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diff --git a/old/63699-0.txt b/old/63699-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e764e81..0000000 --- a/old/63699-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9131 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of MADAME ROLAND, by Ida M. Tarbell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: MADAME ROLAND - A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY - -Author: Ida M. Tarbell - -Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63699] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MADAME ROLAND *** - - - - - MADAME ROLAND - - A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY - - -[Illustration: - - MADAME ROLAND AT THE CONCIERGERIE. - - From a painting by Jules Goupil, now in the museum of Amboise. -] - - - - - MADAME ROLAND - _A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY_ - - - BY - - IDA M. TARBELL - -[Illustration] - - NEW YORK - CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - 1896 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY - CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - - - Norwood Press - J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith - Norwood Mass. U.S.A. - - - - - TO MY DEAR FRIEND - - MADAME CÉCILE MARILLIER - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PREFACE - - -Some eight years ago I undertook a study of the women of the French -Revolution, my object being merely to satisfy myself as to the value of -their public services in that period. In the course of my studies I -became particularly interested in Madame Roland, and when five years ago -I found myself in Paris for an extended period, I decided to use my -leisure in making a more careful investigation of her life and times -than I had been able to do in America. The result of that study is -condensed in this volume. - -Much of the material used in preparing the book is new to the public. -The chapter on Mademoiselle Phlipon’s relations with M. Roland and of -their marriage has been written from unpublished letters, and presents a -very different view of that affair from that which her biographers have -hitherto given, and from that which she herself gives in her Memoirs. -The story of her seeking a title with its privileges in Paris in 1784 -has never before been told, the letters in which the details of her -search are given never having been published. Those of her biographers -who have had access to these letters have been too ardent republicans, -or too passionate admirers of their heroine, to dwell on an episode of -her career which seemed to them inconsistent with her later life. - -The manuscripts of the letters from which these chapters have been -written are now in the _Bibliothèque Nationale_ of Paris. They were -given to the library in 1888, by Madame Faugère, the widow of M. P. -Faugère, to whom they had been given by Madame Champagneux, only -daughter of Madame Roland, that he might prepare a satisfactory edition -of her mother’s works, and write a life of her father. M. Faugère -finished his edition of Madame Roland’s writings, but he died before -completing his life of M. Roland. - -Much of the material used in the book I have obtained from the -descendants of Madame Roland, now living in Paris. My relations with -them came about through that distinguished scholar and gentleman, the -late James Darmesteter. Learning that I was interested in Madame Roland, -he kindly sent me to her great-grandson M. Léon Marillier, a professor -in the _École des Hautes Études_, of Paris. M. Marillier and his wife -were of the greatest service to me, called my attention to the -manuscripts which Madame Faugère had turned over to the _Bibliothèque_, -and which had just been catalogued, and gave me for examination a large -quantity of letters and _cahiers_ from Madame Roland’s girlhood. There -also I met their mother, Madame Cécile Marillier. To her I owe a debt of -gratitude for sympathy and help, which I can never repay. Madame -Marillier gave me freely the family legends of her grandmother, and in -May, 1892, I spent a fortnight at Le Clos, the family home of the -Rolands, where Madame Roland passed her happiest, most natural years. -The old place is rife with memories of its former mistress, and it was -there and afterwards in Villefranche that I found material for Chapters -IV. and V. - -I cannot close this introductory word without acknowledging, too, my -indebtedness to the librarians of the _Bibliothèque Nationale_, of -Paris. During three years I worked there almost daily, and I was treated -with uniform courtesy and served willingly and intelligently. Indeed, I -may say the same for all libraries and museums of Paris where I had -occasion to seek information. - - I. M. T. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I - - PAGE - THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 1 - - - CHAPTER II - - LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 31 - - - CHAPTER III - - SEEKING A TITLE 73 - - - CHAPTER IV - - COUNTRY LIFE 87 - - - CHAPTER V - - HOW THE ROLANDS WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 112 - - - CHAPTER VI - - FIRST POLITICAL SALON 134 - - - CHAPTER VII - - A STICK IN THE WHEEL 155 - - - CHAPTER VIII - - WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 168 - - - CHAPTER IX - - DISILLUSION 210 - - - CHAPTER X - - BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 226 - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE ROLANDS TURN AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 245 - - - CHAPTER XII - - IN PRISON 264 - - - CHAPTER XIII - - DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE 295 - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THOSE LEFT BEHIND 303 - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY 313 - - INDEX 321 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - Madame Roland at the Conciergerie—From a painting by - Jules Goupil, now in the museum of Amboise _Frontispiece_ - - Madame Roland—From a cameo in the Musée Carnavalet _Title_ - - FACING - PAGE - The Place Dauphine in the Eighteenth Century 8 - - The Pont Neuf in 1895 40 - - Roland de la Platière—After the painting by Hesse 64 - - Le Clos de la Platière 96 - - Madame Roland—From the painting by Heinsius in the - museum of Versailles 128 - - Madame Roland—After a crayon portrait owned by the - family 152 - - Madame Roland—From a painting by an unknown artist in - the Musée Carnavalet 192 - - Engraving of Buzot by Nargeot—After the portrait worn by - Madame Roland during her captivity 224 - - Inscription written by Madame Roland on the back of the - portrait of Buzot which she carried while in prison 240 - - The prison, called the Abbaye, where Madame Roland - passed the first twenty-four days of her imprisonment 256 - - The Conciergerie in 1793—Prison where Madame Roland - passed the last eight days of her captivity, and from - which she went to the guillotine. Pont au Change in - the foreground 288 - - Roland de la Platière—From a drawing by Gabriel 304 - - - - - MADAME ROLAND - - - - - I - THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON - - -Since the days when all of the city of Paris, save a few mills, -fortresses, and donjon-towers, was to be found on the Île de la Cité, -the western end of that island has been the quarter of the gold and -silver smiths. Here, in the olden times, when this part of the island -was laid out in gardens and paths, the sellers of ornaments and metal -vessels arranged their wares on the ground or in rude booths; later when -peaked-roofed, latticed-faced buildings filled the space, these same -venders opened their workshops in them; later still, when good King -Henry IV. filled up this western end, built the Pont Neuf and put up the -two fine façades of red brick and stone—mates for the arcades of the -Place Royale—the same class continued here their trade. Even to-day, he -who knows Paris thoroughly seeks the neighborhood of the Quai de -l’Horloge and the Quai des Orfèvres for fine silverware and jewels. - -Among the master engravers who in the latter part of the eighteenth -century plied their trade in this quarter was one Pierre Gatien Phlipon. -His shop was in one of the houses of King Henry’s façade—a house still -standing almost intact, although the majority of them have been replaced -or rebuilt so as to be unrecognizable—that facing the King’s statue on -the west and looking on the Quai de l’Horloge on the north. - -M. Phlipon’s shop was in one of the best situations in Paris. The Pont -Neuf, on which his house looked, was the real centre of the city. Here -in those days loungers, gossips, recruiting agents, venders of all -sorts, _saltimbanques_, quacks, men of fashion, women of pleasure, the -high, the low, _tout Paris_, in short, surged back and forth across the -bridge. So fashionable a promenade had the place become that Mercier, -the eighteenth-century gossip, declared that when one wanted to meet a -person in Paris all that was necessary to do was to promenade an hour a -day on the Pont Neuf. If he did not find him, he might be sure he was -not in the city. - -Engraver by profession, M. Phlipon was also a painter and enameller. He -employed several workmen in his shop and received many orders, but he -had an itching for money-making which led him to sacrifice the artistic -side of his profession to the commercial and to combine with his art a -trade in jewelry and diamonds. We may suppose, in fact, that the reason -M. Phlipon had removed his shop to the Pont Neuf, instead of remaining -in the Rue de la Lanterne, now Rue de la Cité, near Notre Dame, where he -lived until about 1755, was because he saw in the new location a better -opportunity for carrying on trade. - -As his sacrifice of art to commerce shows, M. Phlipon was not a -particularly high-minded man. He was, in fact, an excellent type of what -the small _bourgeoisie_ of Paris was, and is to-day,—good-natured and -vain, thrifty and selfish, slightly common in his tastes, not always -agreeable to live with when crossed in his wishes, but on the whole a -respectable man, devoted to his family, with too great regard for what -his neighbors would say of him to do anything flagrantly vulgar, and too -good a heart to be continually disagreeable. - -His vanity made him fond of display, but it kept him in good company. If -he condescended to trade, he never condescended to traders, but -carefully preserved the relations with artists, painters, and sculptors -which his rank as an engraver brought him. “He was not exactly a -high-minded man,” said his daughter once, “but he had much of what one -calls honor. He would have willingly taken more for a thing than it was -worth, but he would have killed himself rather than not to have paid the -price of what he had bought.” What M. Phlipon lacked in dignity of -character and elevation of sentiments, Madame Phlipon supplied—a serene, -high-minded woman, knowing no other life than that of her family, -ambitious for nothing but duty. She is a perfect model for the gracious -housewife in _La mère laborieuse_ and _Le Bénédicité_ of Chardin, and -her face might well have served as the original for the exquisite pastel -of the Louvre, Chardin’s wife. - -Madame Phlipon’s marriage had been, as are the majority of her class, -one of reason. If she had suffered from a lack of delicacy on the part -of her husband, had never known deep happiness or real companionship, -she had, at least, been loved by the rather ordinary man whom her -superiority impressed, and her home had been pleasant and peaceful. - -The Phlipons led a typical _bourgeois_ life. The little home in the -second story of the house on the Quai de l’Horloge contained both shop -and living apartments. As in Paris to-day the business and domestic life -were closely dovetailed. Madame Phlipon minded the work and received -customers when her husband was out, helped with the accounts, and -usually had at her table one or more of the apprentices. Their busy -every-day life was varied in the simple and charming fashion of which -the French have the secret, leisurely promenades on Sunday, to -Saint-Cloud, Meudon, Vincennes, an hour now and then in the Luxembourg -or Tuileries gardens, an occasional evening at the theatre. As the -families of both Monsieur and Madame Phlipon were of the Parisian -_bourgeoisie_ they had many relatives scattered about in the commercial -parts of the city, and much animation and variety were added to their -lives by the constant informal visiting they did among them. - -The chief interest of the Phlipon household was centred in its one -little girl—the only child of seven left—Marie-Jeanne, or Manon, as she -was called for short. Little Manon had not been born in the house on the -Quai de l’Horloge, but in the Rue de la Lanterne (March 18, 1754), and -the first two years of her life had been spent with a nurse in the -suburbs of Arpajon. She was already a happy, active, healthy, observant -child when she was brought back to her father’s home. The change from -the quiet country house and garden, all of the world she had known, to -the shifting panorama of the Seine and the Pont Neuf made a vivid -impression upon her. The change, in fact, may be counted as the first -step in her awakening. It quickened her power of observation and aroused -in her a restless curiosity. - -Never having known her mother until now, she was almost at once taken -captive by the sweet, grave woman who guarded her with tenderest care, -yet demanded from her implicit obedience. Madame Phlipon obtained over -the child a complete ascendency and kept it so long as she lived. The -father, on the contrary, never was able to win from his little daughter -the homage she gave her mother. Monsieur Phlipon was often impatient and -arbitrary with Manon. The child was already sufficiently developed when -she began to make his acquaintance to discriminate dimly. While she was -pliable to reason and affection, she was obstinate before force and -impatience. She recognized that somehow they were illogical and unjust -and she would endure but never yield to them. Thus among Manon’s first -experiences was a species of hero-worship on one hand, of contempt for -injustice on the other. - -An incessant activity was one of the little girl’s natural qualities. -This and her curiosity explain how she came to learn to read without -anybody knowing exactly when. By the time she was four years old nothing -but the promise of flowers tempted her away from her books, unless, -indeed, it was stories; and with these the artist friends of M. Phlipon -often entertained her, weaving extravagances by the hour, varying the -pastime by repeating rhymes to her—an amusement which was even more -entertaining to them since she repeated them like a parrot. - -Madame Phlipon was a sincere and ardent Catholic and she took advantage -of the eager activity of little Manon to teach her the Old and New -Testament and the catechism. When the child was seven years old, she was -sent to the class to be prepared for her first communion. Here she -speedily distinguished herself, carrying away the prizes, much to the -glory of her uncle Bimont, a young curé of the parish charged with -directing the catechism. - -M. Phlipon and his wife, delighted with the child’s precocity, gave her -masters,—one to teach her to write and to give her history and -geography, another for the piano, another for dancing, another for the -guitar. M. Phlipon himself gave her drawing, and the Curé Bimont Latin. -She attacked these duties eagerly,—getting up at five in the morning to -copy her exercises and do her examples,—active because she could not -help it. - -But her real education was not what she was getting in these -conventional ways. It was what the books she read gave her. These were -of the most haphazard sort: the Bible in old French, to which she was -greatly attached, the _Lives of the Saints_, _The Civil Wars of Appias_, -Scarron, the _Memoirs of Mademoiselle de Montpensier_, a treatise on -Heraldry, another on Contracts, many travels, dramas of all sorts, -_Télémaque_, _Jerusalem Delivered_, even _Candide_. - -The child read with passionate absorption. At first it was simply for -something to do, as she did her exercises or fingered her guitar; but -soon she began to feel strongly and she sought in her books food for the -strange new emotions which stirred her heart, brought tears to her eyes, -and awakened her to the mysteries of joy and sorrow long before she was -able to call those emotions by name. - -In the motley collection of books read by Manon at this period one only -made a life-long impression upon her,—it was Dacier’s _Plutarch_. No one -can understand the eighteenth century in France without taking into -consideration the profound impress made upon it by _Plutarch’s Lives_. -The work was the source of the dreams and of the ambitions of numbers of -the men who exercised the greatest influence on the intellectual and -political life of the period. Jean Jacques Rousseau declares that when -he first read _Plutarch_, at about nine years of age, it cured him of -his love of romance, and formed his free and republican character, and -the impatience of servitude which tormented him throughout his life. -Hundreds of others like Rousseau, many of them, no doubt, in imitation -of him, trace their noblest qualities to the same source. - -When little Manon Phlipon first read the _Lives_, the stories of these -noble deeds moved her almost to delirium. She carried her book to church -all through one Lent in guise of a prayer-book and read through the -service. When at night, alone in her room, she leaned from the window -and looked upon the Pont Neuf and Seine, she wept that she had not been -born in Athens or Sparta. She was beginning to apply to herself what she -read, to feel that the noble actions which aroused such depths of -feeling in her heart were not only glorious to hear of but to perform. -She was filled with awe at the idea that she was herself a creature -capable of sublime deeds. A solemn sense of responsibility was awakened, -and she felt that she must form her soul for a worthy future. When most -children are busy with toys she was trembling before a mysterious -possibility,—a life of great and good deeds, a possibility which she -faintly felt was dependent upon her own efforts. - -[Illustration: - - THE PLACE DAUPHINE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. - - Mademoiselle Phlipon lived in the second story of the house on the - left. -] - -Once penetrated by this splendid ideal, however vague it may have been, -it was inevitable that the rites of the Church, full of mysticism and -exaltation, the teachings of devotion and self-abnegation, the pictures -of lives spent in holy service, should appeal deeply to Manon’s -sensitive and untrained consciousness. As the time of her first -communion approached, and curé and friends combined to impress upon the -child the solemn and eternal importance of the act, she was more and -more stirred by dread and exaltation. All her time was given to -meditation, to prayer, to pious reading. Every day she fingered the -_Lives of the Saints_, sighing after the times when the fury of the -pagans bestowed the crown of martyrdom upon Christians. - -The necessary interruptions to her devotions which occurred in the -household, disturbed her. At last she felt that she could not endure any -longer the profane atmosphere; throwing herself at her parents’ feet, -she begged to be allowed to go to a convent to prepare for the -sacrament. M. and Madame Phlipon, touched by the zeal of their daughter, -consented to let her leave them for a year. - -It was not a difficult matter to find a convent suitable for a young -girl of any class, in the Paris of the eighteenth century. That selected -by the Phlipons for Manon stood in the Rue Neuve Ste. Étienne, a street -now known as Rue Rollin and Rue Navarre. The convent, Dames de la -Congrégation de Notre Dame, established in 1645, was well known for the -gratuitous instruction its sisters gave the children of the very poor as -well as for the simplicity and honesty with which the _pension_ for -young girls was conducted, a thing which could not be said of many of -the convents of that day. - -The instruction given by the Dames de la Congrégation was not, however, -any better than that of other institutions of the kind, if the morals -were. The amount of education regarded as necessary for a French girl of -good family at this period was, in fact, very meagre; even girls of the -highest classes being allowed to grow to womanhood in astonishing -ignorance. Madame du Deffand says that in the convent where she was -placed nothing was taught except “reading and writing, a light, very -light tinting of history, the four rules, some needle-work, many -pater-nosters—that was all.” Madame Louise, the sister of Louis XVI., -did not know her alphabet at twelve, so says Madame Campan. Madame de -Genlis taught her handsome sister-in-law, the favorite of the Duke of -Orleans, to write after she was married. Madame de Genlis herself at -twelve years of age had read almost nothing. - -Manon Phlipon’s acquirements when she entered the convent, at a little -over eleven years of age, were certainly much greater than those of -these celebrated women at her age. It is probable that her instruction -was far above that not only of the girls of her age in the school, but -of the most advanced pupils, perhaps even of some of the good sisters -themselves. - -The superior training of the new pupil was soon known. The discovery -caused her to be petted by all the sisterhood, and she was granted -special privileges of study. She continued her piano lessons and -drawing, so that she had sufficient work to satisfy her active nature -and to make the leisure given her sweet. This leisure she never passed -with her companions. Her frame of mind was altogether too serious to -permit her to romp like a child. The recreation hours she spent apart, -in a quiet corner of the silent old garden, reading or dreaming, -permeated by the beauty of the foliage, the sigh of the wind, the -perfume of the flowers. All this she felt, in her exalted state, was an -expression of God, a proof of his goodness. With her heart big with -gratitude and adoration, she would leave the garden to kneel in the dim -church, and listen to the chanting of the choir and the roll of the -organ. - -Sensitive, unpractical, fervent, the imposing and mystic services -allured her imagination and moved her heart until she lost self-control -and wept, she did not know why. - -During the first days at the convent, a novice took the veil,—one of the -most touching ceremonies of the Church. The young girl appeared before -the altar, dressed like a bride, and in a tone of joyous exaltation sang -the wonderful strain, “Here I have chosen my dwelling-place, here I -establish myself forever.” Then her white garments were taken from her, -and cruel shears cut her long hair, which fell in masses to the floor; -she prostrated herself before the altar, and in sign of her eternal -separation from the world a black cloth was spread over her. Even to the -experienced and unbelieving the sight is profoundly affecting. Manon, -sensitive and overstrung, was seized with the terrible, death-in-life -meaning of the sacrifice; she fancied herself in the place of the young -_dévouée_ and fell to the floor in violent convulsions. - -Under the influence of such emotions, intensified by long prayers, -retreats, meditation, exhortations, from curé and sisters, she took her -first communion. So penetrated was she by the solemnity and the joy of -the act that she was unable to walk alone to the altar. The report of -her piety went abroad in the convent and in the parish, and many a good -old woman whom she met afterwards, mindful of this extraordinary -exaltation, asked her prayers. - -Fortunately for the child’s development, this excessive mysticism, which -was developing a melancholy, sweet to begin with, but not unlikely to -become unhealthy, was relieved a few months after she entered the -convent by a friendship with a young girl from Amiens, Sophie Cannet by -name. - -When Sophie first appeared at the Congrégation, Manon had been deeply -touched by her grief at parting from her mother. Here was a sensibility -which approached her own. She soon saw, too, that the new _pensionnaire_ -avoided the noisy groups of the garden, that she loved solitude and -revery. She sought her and almost at once there sprang up between the -two a warm friendship. Sophie was three years older than Manon; she was -more self-contained, colder, more reasonable. She loved to discuss as -well as to meditate, to analyze as well as to read. She talked well, -too, and Manon had not learned as yet the pretty French accomplishment -of _causerie_, and she delighted to listen to her new friend. - -If the girls were different, they were companionable. Their work, their -study, their walks, were soon together. They opened their hearts to each -other, confided their desires, and decided to travel together the path -to perfection upon which each had resolved. - -To Manon Phlipon this new friendship was a revelation equal to the -vision of nobility aroused by Plutarch; or to that of mystic purity -found in the Church. So far in life she had had no opportunity for -healthy expression. Her excessive sensibility, the emotions which -frightened and stifled her, the aspirations which floated, indefinite -and glorious, before her, all that she felt, had been suppressed. She -could not tell her mother, her curé, the good sisters. Even if they -understood her, she felt vaguely that they would check her, calm her, -try to turn her attention to her lessons, to the practice of good deeds, -to pious exercises. She did not want this. She wanted to feel, to -preserve this tormenting sensibility which was her terror and her joy. - -To Sophie she could tell everything. Sophie, too, was sensitive, devout, -and understood joy and sorrow. The two girls shared the most secret -experiences of their souls. There grew up between them a form of -Platonic love which is not uncommon between idealistic and sensitive -young girls, a relation in which all that is most intimate, most -profound, most sincere in the intellectual and spiritual lives of the -two is exchanged; under its influence the most obscure and indefinite -impressions take form, the most subtile emotions materialize, and vague -and indefinite thoughts shape themselves. - -The effect of this relation on the emotional nature of Manon was -generally wholesome. Her affection for Sophie gave a new coloring to the -pleasure she found in her work, and it dispelled the melancholy which -hitherto had tinged her solitude. More important, it compelled her to -define her feelings so that her friend could understand them: to do this -she was forced to study her own moods and gradually her intelligence -came to be for something in all that she felt. - -When the year which Manon’s parents had given her for the convent was -up, she was obliged to leave her friend. For some time after the parting -Sophie remained at the Congrégation, so that they saw each other often; -but, afterwards, it was by letters that their friendship was kept up. -Never were more ardent love letters written than those of Manon to -Sophie. She commiserated all the world who did not know the joys of -friendship. She suffered tortures when Sophie’s letters were delayed, -and, like every lover since the beginning of the postal service, evolved -plans for improving its promptness and its exactness. She read and -re-read the letters which always filled her pockets, and she rose from -her bed at midnight to fill pages with declarations of her fondness. -This correspondence became one of the great joys of her life. All that -she thought, felt, and saw, she put into her letters. The effort to -express all of herself clearly compelled her to a greater degree of -reflection and crystallized her notions wonderfully. Beside making her -think, it awakened in her a passion for the pen which never left her. -Indeed, it became an imperative need for her to express in writing -whatever she thought or felt. Her emotions and ideas seemed to her -incomplete if they had not been written out. In her early letters there -is a full account of all the influences which were acting on her life, -and of the transformation and evolution they produced. - -When Manon left the Congrégation, it was with the determination to -preserve not only her friend, but her piety. To do the latter, she had -made up her mind to fit herself secretly to return to a convent life -when she reached her majority. She had even chosen already the order -which she should join, and had selected Saint François de Sales, “one of -the most amiable saints of Paradise,” as she rightly characterized him, -as her patron. - -For the time being, however, not a little of the world was mixed with -her preparations for religious retirement. When she came back to the -Quai de l’Horloge,—her first year out of the convent was spent on the -Île Saint Louis with her grandmother Phlipon,—her father and mother -began gradually to initiate her into the round of life which presumably -would be hers in the future. M. Phlipon took especial pride in his -fresh, bright-faced daughter. By his wish she was always dressed with -elegance, and she attracted attention everywhere. The tenderness with -which he introduced her always touched Manon in spite of the fact that -she was often embarrassed by his too evident pride in her. The two went -together to all the Salons and the expositions of art objects, and M. -Phlipon carefully directed her taste here where he was so thoroughly at -home. It was the only real point of contact between them. - -Sundays and fête days were usually devoted to promenades by the -Phlipons. The gayest paths, gardens, and boulevards were always chosen -by M. Phlipon. He enjoyed the crowd and the mirth; and, above all, he -enjoyed showing off his pretty daughter. But she, stern little moralist, -when she discovered that her holiday toilette really gave her pleasure, -that she actually felt flattered when people turned to look at her, that -she found compliments sweet and admiring glances gratifying, trembled -with apprehension. She might forgive her father’s vanity, but she could -not forgive such a feeling in herself. Was it to walk in gardens and to -be admired that she had been born? She gradually convinced herself that -these promenades were inconsistent with her ideal of what was “beautiful -and wise and grand,” and she urged her parents to the country, where all -was in harmony with her thoughts and feelings. Meudon, still one of the -loveliest of all the lovely forests in the environs of Paris, was her -favorite spot. Its quiet, its naturalness, its variety, pleased her -better than the movement and the artificiality of such a place as -Saint-Cloud. In the forest of Meudon her passion for nature was fully -satisfied; here she could study flower and tree, light and shade. - -In her love for nature Manon was in harmony with one of the curious -phases of the sentimental life of the eighteenth century in France. -Nature as food for sentiment seems to have never been discovered until -then by the French people. One searches in vain in French literature -before Bernardin de Saint-Pierre and Rousseau for anything which -resembles a comprehension of and feeling for the external world—yet -unaided Manon Phlipon became naturalist and pantheist. Never did -Bernardin de Saint-Pierre and Rousseau, in their tramps in the environs -of Paris, rejoice more profoundly over the beauties of the world, enter -more deeply into its mysteries, than did she when in her girlhood she -wandered in the _allées_ of the forest of Meudon or of the Bois de -Vincennes. - -But Manon was to see still another side of life,—people in their -relations to one another and to herself. Thus far she had been easily -first in her little world. She had never known the time when she was not -praised for her superiority. Whatever notions of equality she -entertained it is certain that she had not yet discovered that Manon -Phlipon was secondary to anybody else. - -It was on the visits which she began to make with her relatives, that -she first discovered that in the world men are not graded according to -their wisdom and their love for and practice of virtue. She went one day -with her grandmother Phlipon to visit a rich and would-be-great lady, -Madame de Boismorel, in whose house Madame Phlipon had, for many years -after her husband’s death, acted as a kind of governess. She was wounded -on entering by a sentiment not purely democratic—the servants, who loved -the old governess and wished to please her, crowded about the little -girl and complimented her freely. She was offended. These people might, -of course, _look_ at her, but it was not their business to compliment -her. Once in the grand salon she found a typical little old Frenchwoman, -pretentious, vain, exacting. Her _chiffons_, her rouge, her false hair, -her lofty manner with the beloved grandmamma Phlipon whom she addressed -as Mademoiselle,—_Mademoiselle_ to her grandmother, one of the great -personages of her life so far,—her assumption of superiority, her -frivolous talk, revolted this Spartan maid. She lowered her eyes and -blushed before the cold cynicism of the old lady. When she was asked -questions, she replied with amusing sententiousness. “You must have a -lucky hand, my little friend, have you ever tried it in a lottery?” - -“Never, Madame, I do not believe in games of chance.” - -“What a voice! how sweet and full it is, but how grave! Are you not a -little devout?” - -“I know my duty and I try to do it.” - -“Ah! You desire to become a nun, do you not?” - -“I am ignorant of my destiny, I do not seek to penetrate it.” - -Little wonder that after that Madame de Boismorel cautioned the -grandmother, “Take care that she does not become a blue-stocking; it -would be a great pity.” - -Manon went home from this visit full of disdain and anxiety. Evidently -things were not as they ought to be when servants dared to compliment -her to her face; when her own noble ideas were greeted coldly, and when -a vain and vulgar woman could patronize a sweet and bright little lady -like her grandmother; when her grandmother, too, would submit to the -patronage—perhaps even court it. - -She was to observe still more closely the world’s practices. An -acquaintance of the family, one Mademoiselle d’Hannaches, was in -difficulty over an inheritance and obliged to be in Paris to work up her -case. Madame Phlipon took her into her house, where she stayed some -eighteen months. Now Mademoiselle d’Hannaches belonged to an ancient -family, and on account of her birth demanded extra consideration from -those about her and treated her _bourgeois_ friends with a certain -condescension. Manon became a sort of secretary to her and often -accompanied her when she went out on business. “I noticed,” wrote Manon -afterwards, “that in spite of her ignorance, her stiff manner, her -incorrect language, her old-fashioned toilette,—all her -absurdities,—deference was paid her because of her family. The names of -her ancestors, which she always enumerated, were listened to gravely and -were used to support her claim. I compared the reception given to her -with that which Madame de Boismorel had given to me and which had made a -profound impression upon me. I knew that I was worth more than -Mademoiselle d’Hannaches, whose forty years and whose genealogy had not -given her the faculty of writing a sensible or legible letter. I began -to find the world very unjust and its institutions most extravagant.” - -Mademoiselle Phlipon had scarcely become accustomed to these vanities in -the society which she frequented, before she began to observe equally -puzzling and ridiculous pretensions in artistic and literary circles. -Through the kindness of her masters and of the friends of M. and Madame -Phlipon, she was often invited to the reunions of _bels esprits_, so -common in Paris then and now. It was not in a spirit of humiliation and -flattered vanity that so independent an observer and judge as she had -become, surveyed the celebrities she was allowed to look upon and to -listen to, in the various salons to which she was admitted. She saw -immediately the pose which characterized nearly all of the gatherings, -the pretentious vanity of those who read verses or portraits, the -insincerity and diplomacy of those who applauded. The blue-stockings who -read as their own verses which they had not always written, and who were -paid by ambitious salon leaders for sitting at their table; the small -poets who found inspiration in the muffs and snuff-boxes of the great -ladies whose favor they wanted; the bold, and not always too chaste, -compliments,—verily, if they made the gatherings _délicieuses_, as they -who followed them declared, there was a deep gulf between Manon -Phlipon’s standards and those of the society which her family -congratulated her upon being able to see. - -It was during Mademoiselle d’Hannaches’ stay with the Phlipons that -Manon made a visit of eight days to Versailles, then the seat of the -French Court, with her mother, her uncle, and their guest, to whose -influence indeed they owed their garret accommodations in the château. -Many things shocked and humiliated her in the life she saw there, but -she did not go home nearly so bitter and disillusioned as she tried to -represent herself to have been, nine years later, when she told the -story to posterity as an evidence of her early revolt against the abuses -of the monarchy. In fact, the reflections which the week at Versailles -awakened were very just and reasonable. We have them in a letter written -to Sophie some days after her return: - -“I cannot tell you how much what I saw there has made me value my own -situation and bless Heaven that I was born in an obscure rank. You -believe, perhaps, that this feeling is founded on the little value which -I attach to opinion and on the reality of the penalties which I see to -be connected with greatness? Not at all. It is founded on the knowledge -that I have of my own character which would be most harmful to myself -and to the state if I were placed at a certain distance from the throne. -I should be profoundly shocked by the enormous chasm between millions of -men and one individual of their own kind. In my present position I love -my King because I feel my dependence so little. If I were near him, I -should hate his grandeur.... A good king seems to me an adorable being; -still, if before coming into the world I had had my choice of a -government I should have decided on a republic. It is true I should have -wanted one different from any in Europe to-day.” - -Manon was twenty years old when she wrote this letter to Sophie Cannet. -Its reasonable tone is very different from what one would expect from -the passionate little mystic of the convent of the Congrégation, the -sententious critic of Madame de Boismorel. In fact, Manon’s attitude -towards the world had changed. By force of study and reflection she had -come to understand human nature better, and to accept with philosophical -resignation the contradictions, the pettiness, and the injustice of -society. “The longer I live, the more I study and observe,” she told -Sophie, “the more deeply I feel that we ought to be indulgent towards -our fellows. It is a lesson which personal experience teaches us every -day,—it seems to me that in proportion to the measure of light which -penetrates our minds we are disposed to humaneness, to benevolence, to -tolerant kindness.” - -Nor had she at this time any bitterness towards the existing order of -government. If she “would have chosen a republic if she had been allowed -a choice before coming into the world,” she had so far no idea of -rejecting the rule under which she was born. Indeed, she was a very -loyal subject of Louis XVI. When that prince came to the throne she -wrote to her friend: “The ministers are enlightened and well disposed, -the young prince docile and eager for good, the Queen amiable and -beneficent, the Court kind and respectable, the legislative body -honorable, the people obedient, wishing only to love their master, the -kingdom full of resources. Ah, but we are going to be happy!” Nor did -her ideas of equality at this period make her see in the mass of the -common people equals of those who by training, education, and birth had -been fitted to govern. “Truly human nature is not very respectable when -one considers it in a mass,” she reflected one day, as she saw the -people of Paris swarming even to the roofs to watch a poor wretch -tortured on the wheel. In describing a bread riot in 1775, she condemned -the people as impatient, called the measures of the ministers wise, and -excused the government by recalling Sully’s reflection: “With all our -enlightenment and good-will it is still difficult to do well.” And -again, apropos of similar disturbances, she said: “The King talks like a -father, but the people do not understand him; the people are hungry—it -is the only thing which touches them.” Nothing in all this of contempt -of the monarchy, of the sovereignty of the people, of the divine right -of insurrection. - -Manon Phlipon had in fact become, by the time she was twenty years of -age, a thoroughly intelligent and reflective young woman. Instead of -extravagant and impulsive opinions, results of excessive emotionalism -and idealism, which her first twelve years seemed to prophesy, we have -from her intelligent judgments. If it was not a question of some one she -loved, she could be trusted to look at any subject in a rational and -self-controlled way. - -This change had been brought about largely by the reading and reflecting -she had done since leaving the convent. For some time what she read had -depended on what she could get. Her resolution to enter a convent -eventually had made her at first prefer religious books, and she read -Saint Augustine and Saint François de Sales with fervor and joy. With -them she combined, helter-skelter, volumes from the _bouquinistes_, -mainly travels, letters, and mythology. Fortunately she happened on -Madame de Sévigné. Manon appreciated thoroughly the charming style of -this most agreeable French letter-writer, and her taste was influenced -by it, though her style was but little changed. - -This stock was not exhausted before she had the happiness to be turned -loose in the library of an abbé—a friend of her uncle. It was a house -where her mother and Mademoiselle d’Hannaches went often to make up a -party of tric-trac with the two curés. As it was necessary always to -take her along, all parties were satisfied that Manon could lose herself -in a book. For three years she found here all she could read: history, -literature, mythology, the Fathers of the Church. Dozens of obscure -authors passed through her hands; now and then she happened on a -classic—something from Voltaire, from Bossuet. Here too she read _Don -Quixote_. - -But the good abbé died, the tric-trac parties in his library ceased, and -Manon had to turn to the public library for books. She chose without any -plan, generally a book of which she had heard. So far her reading had -been simply out of curiosity, from a need of doing something. Usually -she had several books on hand at once—some serious, others light, one of -which she was always reading aloud to her mother. The habit of reading, -especially aloud, was one of the chief means advised by the French -educators of the time for carrying on a girl’s education. Madame de -Sévigné, Fénelon, Madame de Maintenon, L’abbé de Saint-Pierre, the -authorities at Port Royal, all had made much of the practice. Manon read -their treatises, and finding that she had herself already adopted -methods similar to those of the wisest men and women of her country, -continued her work with new vigor. - -All that she read she analyzed carefully, and she spent much time in -making extracts. Through the courtesy of one of the descendants of -Mademoiselle Phlipon, M. Léon Marillier of Paris, I had in my possession -at one time, for examination, a large number of her _cahiers_ prepared -at this period. They are made of a coarse, grayish-blue paper, with -rough edges, and are covered with a strong, graceful handwriting, almost -never marred by erasures or changes, much of it looking as if it had -been engraved; more characteristic and artistic manuscript one rarely -sees. - -The subjects of the quotations in the _cahiers_ are nearly always deeply -serious. In one there are eight pages on Necessity, long quotations on -Death, Suicide, the Good Man, Happiness, the Idea of God. Another -contains a long analysis of a work on Divorce Legislation, which had -pleased her. Buffon and Voltaire are freely quoted from. - -The passages which attracted her are philosophic and dogmatic rather -than literary and sentimental, or devout. In fact, Manon became, in the -period between fourteen and twenty-one, deeply interested in the -philosophic thought of the day. Soon she was examining dispassionately, -and with a freedom of mind remarkable in so unquestioning a believer as -she had been, the entire system of religion which she had been taught. -Once started on this track, her reading took a more systematic and -intelligent turn. She read for a purpose, not simply out of curiosity. - -It was the controversial works of Bossuet which first induced Manon -Phlipon to apply the test of reason to her faith. Soon after she began -to study the Christian dogma rationally, she revolted against the -doctrines of infallibility and of the universal damnation of all those -who never knew or who had not accepted the faith. When she discovered -that she could not accept these teachings, she resolved to find out if -there was anything else which she must give up, and so attacked eagerly -religious criticism, philosophy, metaphysics. She analyzed most -thoroughly all she read and compared authorities with unusual -intelligence. - -As her investigations went on, she found that her faith was going, and -she told her confessor, who immediately furnished her with the -apologists and defenders of the Church, Abbé Gauchat, Bergier, Abbadie, -Holland, Clark, and others. She read them conscientiously and annotated -them all; some of these notes she left in the books, not unwittingly we -may suspect. The Abbé asked her in amazement if the comments were -original with her. - -These annotations were, in fact, calculated to startle a curé interested -in conserving the orthodoxy of a parishioner. Part of those she made on -the works of the Abbé Gauchat fell into my hands with the extracts -spoken of above. They are the bold, intelligent criticisms of a person -who has resolved to subject every dogma to the test of reason. They are -never contemptuous or scoffing, though there is frequently a tone of -irritation at what she regards as the feebleness of the logic. They are -free from prejudice and from sentiment, and show no deference to -authority. - -Another result of the curé’s loan of controversial works was to intimate -to Manon what books they refuted, and she hastened to procure them one -after another. Thus the _Traité de la tolérance_, _Dictionnaire -philosophique_, the _Questions encyclopédiques_, the _Bons sens_ and the -_Lettres juives_, of the Marquis d’Argens, the works of Diderot, -d’Alembert, Raynal, in fact all the literature of the encyclopedists -passed through her hands. - -Manon Phlipon did not change her religious feelings or devout practices -during this period. She was living a religious life of peculiar -intensity, all the time that she was deep in the examination of -doctrines. The one was for her an affair of the heart, the other of the -head. Her letters to Sophie, after the question of doubt had once been -broached between them, are filled, now with philosophical analyses of -dogma, now with glowing piety, now with severe rules of conduct. It was -some time after she took to reasoning before the subject came up. -Sophie’s own faith was troubled and she pictured her state to her -friend. Manon, touched by this confidence, greater than her own had -been, freely portrayed afterwards her own mental and spiritual -condition. From these letters we find that she reached, very early in -her study, certain conclusions which she never abandoned, and upon these -as a basis erected a system which satisfied her heart and mind and which -regulated her conduct. - -When she first wrote Sophie she was so convinced of the existence of God -for “philosophical reasons” that she declared the authority of the world -could not upset her. With this went the immortality of the soul. These -two dogmas were enough to satisfy her heart and imagination. She did not -need them to be upright, she said, but she did to be happy. She did -right because she had convinced herself that it was to her own and to -her neighbor’s interest. She was happy because she had a reasonable -basis for goodness and nobility, and because she believed in God and in -immortality. On this foundation further study became an inspiration. “My -sentiments have gained an energy, a warmth, a range,” she wrote to -Sophie after reading Raynal’s _Philosophical History_, “that the -exhortations of priests have never given them—the General Good is my -idol, because it must be the result and the reasonable end of -everything. Virtue pleases me, inflames my imagination because it is -good for me, useful to others, and beautiful in itself. I cherish life -because I feel the value of it. I use it to the best advantage possible. -I love all that breathes, I hate nothing but evil, and still I pity the -guilty. With a conduct conformed to these ideas, I live happy and -tranquil, and I shall finish my career in peace and with the greatest -confidence in a God whom I dare believe to be better than I have been -taught.” - -She had her fundamentals, but she had not by any means finished her -investigations. Each system she examined, fascinated her. In turn she -was Jansenist, stoic, deist, materialist, idealist. - -“The same thing happens to me sometimes,” she wrote Sophie, “that -happened to the prince who went to the Court to hear the pleas,—the last -lawyer who spoke always seemed to him to be right.” “I am continually in -doubt, and I sleep there peacefully as the Americans in their hammocks. -This state is best suited to our situation and to the little we know.” - -Whatever her mental vagaries, she never altered her religious practices. -She did not wish to torment her mother, or to set a bad example to those -who took her as a model; for instance, there was her _bonne_ whom she -desired should keep her faith. “I should blame myself for weakening it,” -she said, “as I should for taking away her bread.” - -Only two months before the end of her life Madame Roland summed up her -religious and philosophical life in a passage of her Memoirs. It is -simply a résumé of what in her girlhood she wrote at different times to -Sophie. The main points of this philosophy have been given above. - - - - - II - LOVERS AND MARRIAGE - - -Until she was twenty-one years of age, Manon Phlipon’s life was -singularly free from care. Her studies, her letters to Sophie, her hours -with her mother, her promenades, filled it full. Suddenly in 1775 its -peace was broken by the death of Madame Phlipon. Manon’s veneration and -affection for her mother were sincere and passionate, her dependence -upon her complete. Her death left the girl groping pitifully. The -support and the joy of her life seemed to have been taken from her. But -the necessity of action, her obligations to her father, the kindness of -her friends, her own philosophy, finally calmed her, and she made a -brave effort to adjust herself to her new duties. Her real restoration, -however,—that is, her return to happiness and to enthusiasm, was wrought -by a book—the _Nouvelle Héloïse_, of Jean Jacques Rousseau. - -In the middle and in the latter half of the eighteenth century France -passed through a paroxysm of sentiment. Man was acknowledged a reasoning -being, to be sure, but it was because he was a sensitive one that he was -extolled. His mission was to escape pain and seek happiness. To laugh, -to weep, to vibrate with feeling, was the ideal of happiness. This -sensitiveness to sentiment was shown in the most extravagant ways. Words -ran out in the efforts to paint emotion. Friends no longer saluted, they -fell into each other’s arms. Tears were no longer sufficient for grief, -they were needed for joy. Convulsions and spasms alone expressed sorrow -adequately. At the least provocation women were in a faint and men -trembling. Acute sensibility was cultivated as an Anglo-Saxon cultivates -reserve. - -The prophet of this sentimental generation was Jean Jacques Rousseau, -the hand-book he gave his followers the _Nouvelle Héloïse_. Here -sentimentalism reaches the highest point possible without becoming -unadulterated mawkishness and sensuality, if, indeed, it does not -sometimes pass the limit. To France, however, the book was a revelation. -Rousseau declares that Frenchwomen particularly were intoxicated by it, -and that there were few ladies of rank of whom he could not have made -the conquest if he had undertaken it. It is only necessary to read the -memoirs of the day, to see that Rousseau tells the truth. The story that -George Sand tells of her grandmother, and those Madame de Genlis relates -of the reception of the book by the great ladies of the Palais Royal, -are but examples of the general outburst of admiration which swept -through feminine hearts. - -The _Nouvelle Héloïse_ was a revelation in sentiment to Manon Phlipon. -The severe studies of the past few years had checked and regulated the -excessive and uncontrolled emotions of her girlhood. She had become an -intelligent, reflecting creature. But the death of her mother had -overthrown her philosophy for the moment; then came the _Nouvelle -Héloïse_. Its effect on her was like that of Plutarch twelve years -before. It kindled her imagination to the raptures of love, the beauty -of filial affection, the peace of domestic life, the joy of motherhood. - -Her vigorous, passionate young nature asserted itself; her mind burned -with the possibilities of happiness; sentiment regained the power -temporarily given to the intellect, and from that time was the ruling -force of her life. - -“I fear that he strengthened my weakness,” Manon wrote of Rousseau -towards the end of her life, and certainly he did destroy the fine -harmony that she had established between her reason and her feelings, -making the latter master. She was quite right in thinking it fortunate -that she had not read him earlier. “He would have driven me mad; I -should have been willing to read nobody but him.” - -The _Nouvelle Héloïse_ was not, however, the first of Rousseau she had -read. _Émile_ had passed through her hands, and her religious -convictions had unquestionably been influenced by the Profession of -Faith of the Vicar of Savoy. But she had read him critically so far. Now -all was changed. She plunged enthusiastically into his works. She found -there clearly and fully stated what she herself had vaguely and -imperfectly felt; the sentiments he interpreted had stirred her; many of -the principles he laid down for conduct she had been practising. In less -than a year she was defending his works to Sophie. - -“I am astonished that you wonder at my love for Rousseau. I regard him -as the friend of humanity, as its benefactor and mine. Who pictures -virtue in a nobler and more touching manner? Who renders it more worthy -of love? His works inspire a taste for truth, simplicity, wisdom. As for -myself, I know well that I owe to them all that is best in me. His -genius has warmed my soul, I have been inflamed, elevated, and ennobled -by it. - -“I do not deny that there are some paradoxes in _Émile_, some -proceedings that our customs make impracticable. But how many profound -and wholesome opinions, how many useful precepts! how many beauties to -save the faults! Moreover, I confess that observation has led me to -approve things that at first I treated as foolish and chimerical. His -_Héloïse_ is a masterpiece of sentiment. The woman who can read it -without being better or at least without desiring to become so, has only -a soul of clay, a mind of apathy. She will never rise above the -common.... In all that he has done one recognizes not only a genius, but -an honest man and citizen.... And a scaffold has come near being erected -for this man, to whom, in another century, one will perhaps raise -altars!” - -Manon Phlipon had found in Rousseau her guide. The feminine need of an -authority was satisfied. She accepted him _en bloc_, and to defend and -follow him became henceforth her concern. - -Manon’s first appreciation of Rousseau was, naturally enough, an attempt -to play Julie to a fancied Saint-Preux. It is not to be supposed that -this is the first time in her life that her attention was turned towards -a lover. Ever since her piety began to cool under the combined effects -of study and observation, and her natural vanity and love of attention -began to assert themselves, she had thought a great deal of her future -husband. In a French girl’s life a future husband is a foregone -conclusion, and Manon, like all her countrywomen, had been accustomed to -the presentation of this or that person whom some zealous friend thought -a fitting mate for her. The procession of suitors that passes before the -readers of her Memoirs is so long and so motley that one is inclined to -believe that more than one is there by virtue of the heroine’s -imagination. Manon Phlipon was one of those women who see in every man a -possible lover. - -The applications for her hand began with her guitar master, who, having -taught her all he knew, ended by asking her to marry him. Then there was -a widower who had prepared himself for his courtship by having a wen -removed from his left cheek; the family butcher, who sought to win her -regard by sending her the choicest cuts of steak, and appearing on -Sunday in the midst of the Phlipons’ family promenade, arrayed in lace -and fine broadcloth; and in turn all the eligible young men and widowers -of the Place Dauphine. They were, without exception, peremptorily -declined by the young woman through her father. Had she read Plutarch -and all the philosophers, only to tie herself up to a merchant bent on -getting rich and cutting a good figure in his quarter? - -Her parents, flattered and amused by this cortège, did not at first try -to influence Manon to accept any one, but at last her father became -anxious. The disdain with which she refused all representatives of -commerce annoyed him a little, too. “What kind of a man will suit you?” -he asked her one day. - -“You have taught me to reflect, and allowed me to form studious habits. -I don’t know to what kind of a man I shall give myself, but it will -never be to any one with whom I cannot share my thoughts and -sentiments.” - -“But there are men in business who are polished and well educated.” - -“Yes, but not among those I see. Their politeness consists in a few -phrases and salutations. Their knowledge is always of business. They -would be of little use to me in the education of my children.” - -“Raise them yourself.” - -“That task would seem heavy to me if it were not shared by my husband.” - -“Don’t you think L——’s wife is happy? They have just gone out of -business; they have bought a large property; their house is well kept; -and they see a great deal of good society.” - -“I cannot judge of the happiness of others, and mine will never depend -upon wealth. I believe that there is no happiness in marriage except -when hearts are closely united. I can never give myself to one who has -not the same sentiments as I. Besides, my husband must be stronger than -I; nature and the laws make him my superior, and I should be ashamed of -him if he were not so.” - -“Is it a lawyer that you want? Women are never too happy with such men; -they are bad tempered and have very little money.” - -“But, papa, I shall never marry anybody for his gown. I don’t mean to -say that I want a man of such and such a profession, but a man that I -can love.” - -“But, if I understand you, such a man cannot be found in business?” - -“Ah! I confess that seems to me very probable; I have never found any -one there to my taste; and then business itself disgusts me.” - -“Nevertheless, it is a very pleasant thing to live tranquilly at home -while one’s husband carries on a good business. Look at Madame A——; she -knows good diamonds as well as her husband; she carries on the business -in his absence; she will continue to carry it on if she should become a -widow; their fortune is already large. You are intelligent; you would -inspire confidence; you could do what you wanted to. You would have a -very agreeable life if you would accept Delorme, Dabreuil, or -Obligeois.” - -“Hold on, papa; I have learned too well that in business one does not -succeed unless he sells dear what he has bought cheap; unless he lies -and beats down his workmen.” - -“Do you believe, then, that there are no honest men in commerce?” - -“I am not willing to say that; but I am persuaded that there are but few -of them; and more than that, that those honest men have not the -qualities that my husband must have.” - -“You are making matters very difficult for yourself. What if you do not -find your ideal?” - -“I shall die an old maid.” - -“Perhaps that will be harder than you think. However, you have time to -think of it. But remember, one day you will be alone; the crowd of -suitors will end,—but you know the fable.” - -“Oh, I shall revenge myself by meriting happiness; injustice cannot -deprive me of it.” - -“Ah, there you go in the clouds.” - -The first of Manon’s suitors who really interested her was Pahin de la -Blancherie, a _bel esprit_ who frequented a salon where she was often -seen. He had been attracted by the girl and had by a clever trick, which -Madame Phlipon had seen fit to ignore, gained an entrance to the house. -He interested Manon more than her usual callers. He had read the -philosophers; he expressed noble views; he had been to America; he was -writing a book. This was much better than the young man who plied a -trade and repeated the gossip of the Pont Neuf, and when she learned -from her father that he had asked her hand, but had been dismissed -because of his lack of fortune, she told the loss rather coldly to -Sophie. - -“He seemed to me to have an honest heart, much love for literature and -science, art and knowledge. In fact, if he had a secure position, was -older, had a cooler head, a little more solidity, he would not have -displeased me. Now he has gone and without doubt thinks as little of me -as I do about him.” - -This was nearly two years before Madame Phlipon’s death and Manon saw -almost nothing of La Blancherie until some four months after her loss, -when he came unexpectedly one evening to see her, pale and changed by a -long illness. The sight of the young man agitated her violently. It -recalled her mother, recalled, too, the fact that he alone of all her -suitors had seemed worthy of her. Her agitation embarrassed him. With -tears she told him her grief. He tried to console her and confided to -her the proof-sheets of his forthcoming book. - -Manon described the meeting to Sophie and added her appreciation of the -book. “You know my _Loisirs_,[1] do you not? Here are the same -principles. It is my whole soul. He is not a Rousseau, doubtless, but he -is never tiresome. It is a beautiful morality, agreeably presented, -supported by facts and an infinite number of historic allusions and of -quotations from many authors. I dare not judge the young man because we -are too much alike, but I can say of him what I said to Greuze of his -picture, ‘if I did not love virtue, he would give me a taste for it.’” - -Footnote 1: - - Manon Phlipon wrote before her marriage a series of philosophical and - literary essays which she called _Œuvres de loisir_ or _Mes Loisirs_. - They are reflections on a great variety of subjects, generally - following closely the books she read. Fragments from many of these - essays are found in the letters to Sophie Cannet. It was Mademoiselle - Phlipon’s habit to lend the manuscript of her productions to her - intimate friends and Sophie, of course, was familiar with them all. - The greatest part of the _Loisirs_ were published in 1800 in the - edition of Madame Roland’s works prepared by Champagneux. - -Manon’s imagination was violently excited by this interview and she -received La Blancherie’s visits with delight. Her father, however, was -displeased and insisted that the young man cease coming to the house. -This was all that was needed for Manon to persuade herself that she was -in love. She went farther—she was convinced La Blancherie loved her, was -suffering over their separation, and she shed tears of sympathy for him. -She comforted herself with dreams of his noble efforts to better his -situation and to win her in spite of her cruel father. She wrote Sophie -long letters describing their mutual efforts to be worthy of each other, -letters drawn entirely from her own fancy. - -[Illustration: - - THE PONT NEUF IN 1895. - - The house in which Madame Roland lived as a girl is the second of the - two to the right of the picture. -] - -“We are trying to make each other happy by making ourselves better, and -in this sweet emulation virtue becomes stronger, hope remains. If he has -an opportunity to do a good action, I am sure that he will do it more -gladly when he thinks that it is the sweetest and the only homage that -he can render me.” All this she assumed, but she thought she had -sufficient reason for her opinion. “I judge him by my own heart, nothing -else is so like him. We do not see each other, but we know we love each -other without ever having avowed it. We count on each other. We hasten -along the path of virtue and of sacrifice that we have chosen; there at -least we shall be eternally together.” - -She wrote him a fervent letter, which Sophie delivered, telling him that -it was not her will that he was forbidden the house. She saw that he had -a card for the Mass celebrating her mother’s death. She idealized him in -a manner worthy of Julie herself, without knowing anything in particular -of him, and without his ever having made her any declaration. - -A sentimental young woman rarely conceives her lover as he is. Certainly -the actual La Blancherie was a very different young man from the paragon -of stern virtue Mademoiselle Phlipon pictured, and when the creation of -her imagination was brought face to face, one day in the Luxembourg, -with the flesh and blood original, the latter made a poor showing. To -begin with, he had a feather in his cap, a common enough thing in that -day—“Ah, you would not believe how this cursed plume has tormented me,” -she wrote Sophie. “I have tried in every way to reconcile this frivolous -ornament with that philosophy, with that taste for the simple, with that -manner of thinking which made D. L. B. [it is thus that she designates -La Blancherie in her letters] so dear to me.” But she did not succeed. -No doubt her inability to forgive the feather was made greater by a bit -of gossip repeated to her the same day by a friend who was walking with -her, that La Blancherie had been forbidden the house of one of her -friends because he had boasted that he was going to marry one of the -daughters, and that he was commonly known among their friends as “the -lover of the eleven thousand virgins.” - -Her cure was rapid after this, and when, a few months later, La -Blancherie succeeded in getting an interview with her and represented -his misfortunes and his hopes, she listened calmly, and told him, at -length, that after having distinguished him from the ordinary young man, -and indeed placed him far higher, she had been obliged to replace him -among the large class of average mortals. For some four hours they -debated the situation, and at last La Blancherie withdrew. - -Manon’s first love affair was over, and she sat down with rare -complacency to describe the finale to Sophie. She had no self-reproach -in the affair. As always, she was infallible. - -La Blancherie was, no doubt, an excellent example of the -eighteenth-century literary adventurer. His first book, a souvenir of -college life and his travels in America, was an impossible account of -youthful follies and their distressing results, and seems never to have -aroused anybody’s interest save Manon’s, and that only during one year. -His next venture was to announce himself as the General Agent for -Scientific and Artistic Correspondence, and to open a salon in Paris, -where he arranged expositions of pictures, scientific conferences, -lectures and art _soirées_. In connection with his salon La Blancherie -published from 1779 to 1787 the _Nouvelles de la république des lettres -et des arts_, and a catalogue of French artists from Cousin to 1783. -Both of these works, now extremely rare, are useful in detailed study of -the French art of the eighteenth century, and were used by the De -Goncourts in preparing their work on this subject. - -In 1788 La Blancherie’s salon was closed, and he went to London. By -chance he inhabited Newton’s old house. He was inspired to exalt the -name of the scientist. His practical plan for accomplishing this was to -demand that the name of Newton should be given alternately with that of -George to the Princes of England, that all great scientific discoveries -should be celebrated in hymns which should be sung at divine services, -and that in public documents after the words _the year of grace_ should -be added _and of Newton_. - -In short, La Blancherie was in his literary life vain and pretentious, -without other aim than to make a sensation. In his social relations he -was a perfect type of _le petit maître_, whose philosophy Marivaux sums -up: “A Paris, ma chère enfant, les cœurs on ne se les donne pas, on se -les prête” (In Paris, my dear, we never give our hearts, we only lend -them). Manon Phlipon’s idealization and subsequent dismissal of La -Blancherie is an excellent example of how a sentimental girl’s -imagination will carry her to the brink of folly, and of the -cold-blooded manner in which, if she is disillusioned, she will discuss -what she has done when under the influence of her infatuation. - -No doubt the decline of Manon’s interest in La Blancherie was due no -little to the rise of her interest at this time in another type of -man,—the middle-aged man of experience and culture whom necessity has -forced to work in the world, but whom reflection and character have led -to remain always aloof from it. - -The first of these was a M. de Sainte-Lettre, a man sixty years of age, -who, after thirteen years’ government service in Louisiana with the -savages, had been given a place in Pondicherry. He was in Paris for a -year, and having brought a letter of introduction to M. Phlipon, soon -became a constant visitor of his daughter. His wealth of observation and -experience was fully drawn upon by this curious young philosopher, and -probably M. de Sainte-Lettre found a certain piquancy in relating his -traveller’s tales to a fresh and beautiful young girl whose intelligence -was only surpassed by her sentimentality, and whose frankness was as -great as her self-complacency. At all events they passed some happy -hours together. “I see him three or four times a week,” she wrote -Sophie; “when he dines at the house, he remains from noon until nine -o’clock. There is perfect freedom between us. This man, taciturn in -society, is confiding and gay with me. We talk on all sorts of subjects. -When I am not up, I question him, I listen, I reflect, I object. When we -do not wish to talk, we keep silent without troubling ourselves, but -that does not last long. Sometimes we read a fragment suggested by our -conversation, something well known and classic, whose beauties we love -to review. The last was a song of the poet Rousseau and some verses of -Voltaire. They awakened a veritable enthusiasm,—we both wept and re-read -the same thing ten times.” - -To this odd pair of philosophers a third was added,—a M. Roland de la -Platière, of whom we are to hear much more later on. Manon began at once -to effervesce. “These two men spoil me,” she declared to Sophie; “I find -in them the qualities that I consider most worthy my esteem.” - -But Roland and de Sainte-Lettre both left Paris, the latter retiring to -Pondicherry, where he died some six weeks after his arrival. Before -going away, however, he had put Mademoiselle Phlipon into relation with -an intimate friend of his, a M. de Sévelinges, of Soissons, a widower -some fifty-two years of age, of small fortune but excellent family and -wide culture. This acquaintance was kept up by letter, and in a few -months M. de Sévelinges asked her hand. Now Mademoiselle Phlipon had but -a small dot and that was fast disappearing through the dissipation of -her father, who, since her mother’s death, had taken to amusing himself -in expensive ways. M. de Sévelinges had children who did not like the -idea of his marrying a young wife without fortune. It was to imperil -their expected inheritance. Manon appreciated this and refused M. de -Sévelinges. But he insisted and they hit upon a quixotic arrangement -which Mademoiselle Phlipon describes thus to Sophie: - -“His project is simply to secure a sister and a friend, under a -perfectly proper title. I thank him for a plan that my reason justifies, -that I find honorable for both, and that I feel myself capable of -carrying out.... My sentiments, my situation, everything drives me to -celibacy. In keeping it voluntarily while apparently living in an -opposite state, I do not change the destiny which circumstances have -forced upon me, and at least I contribute by a close relation to the -happiness of an estimable man who is dear to me.... How chimerical this -idea would be for three-fourths of my kind! It seems as if nobody but M. -de Sévelinges and I could have conceived it, and that you are the only -one to whom I could confide it. The realisation of this dream would be -delightful it seems to me. I can imagine nothing more flattering and -more agreeable to one’s delicacy and confidence than this perfect -devotion to pure friendship. Can you conceive of a more delicate joy -than that of sacrificing oneself entirely to the happiness of an -appreciative man?” - -The affair with M. de Sévelinges came to nothing, and as Manon gradually -ceased to think of him she became more and more interested in the M. -Roland already mentioned. - -M. Roland de la Platière was a man about forty-two years of age when he -first met Mademoiselle Phlipon, in 1776. He held the important position -of Inspector-General of Commerce in Picardy, and lived in Amiens, the -chief town of the province. In his specialty he was one of the best -known men in France. His career had been one of energy and patience. -Leaving his home in the Lyonnais when but a boy of eighteen, rather than -to take orders or to go into business as his family proposed, he had -spent two years studying manufacture and commerce in Lyons, and then had -gone to Rouen, where, through the influence of a relative, he had passed -ten years in familiarizing himself with the methods of the factories of -Normandy, at that time one of the busiest manufacturing provinces in -France. M. Roland’s work at Rouen had not been of a simple, -unintelligent kind. He had studied seriously the whole subject of -manufacturing in its relations to commerce, to government, to society, -and had worked out a most positive set of opinions on what was necessary -to be done in France in order to revive her industries. He had already -begun to write, and his pamphlets had attracted the attention of the -ablest men in his department of science. - -In 1764 he had been sent to look after the manufacturing interests of -Languedoc, then in a serious condition, and in 1776 the position of -Inspector in Picardy, the third province of the country from a -manufacturing point of view, was given to him. For a man without -ambition, the duties of the office were simple. They required him to see -that the multitude of vexatious rules which were attached then to the -making of goods and articles of all kinds, were carried out; that the -regulations governing masters and workmen were observed; that the -formalities attending the establishment of new factories were not -neglected; that everything of significance that happened in the -factories in his province was reported; and that all suggestions for -improvement which occurred to him were presented. Evidently an ordinary -man, well protected, could fill the position of an inspector of -manufactures and have an easy life. - -But M. Roland did not understand his duties in this way. The value of -the position in his eyes was that it permitted the regulation of -disputes, allowed criticism, invited suggestions, encouraged study, and -welcomed pamphlets. From the beginning of his connection with Picardy he -had displayed an incredible activity in all of these directions. The -various industrial interests of the province were clashing seriously at -the moment, and the lawyers and councils were only making the -disagreement greater. Roland dismissed all interference and became -himself “the council, the lawyer, and the protector of the -manufacturer.” He became familiar with every master workman of Picardy, -with every industry, with every process, and in the reports sent to the -Council of Commerce at Paris, he attacked, praised, suggested -voluminously. At the same time he was studying seriously. Nothing was -foreign to his profession as he understood it, and though already he had -the reputation of being a _savant_ he went every year to Paris to do -original work in natural history, physics, chemistry, and the arts. - -Roland had only been long enough in Picardy to organize his office well -when he began to urge the Council to try to introduce into France some -of the superior manufacturing processes of other countries. The idea -seemed wise and he was invited to undertake a thorough study of foreign -and domestic manufacturing methods. This commission led him into many -countries. Before M. Roland met Mademoiselle Phlipon, in 1776, he had -been through Flanders, Holland, Switzerland, England, Germany, and -France in pursuit of information. He had studied lace-making at -Brussels, ironware at Nuremberg, linen-making in Silesia, pottery in -Saxony, velvet and embroidered ribbons on the Lower Rhine, paper-making -at Liège, cotton weaving and printing in England. - -His observations had been limited to no special step of the -manufacturing. He looked after the variety of plant which produced a -thread and studied the way it was raised. He knew how native ores were -taken out in every part of Europe. The processes of bleaching, dyeing, -and printing in all countries were familiar to him. He understood all -sorts of machines and had improved many himself. His ideas on designing -were excellent and had been enlarged by intelligent observation of the -arts of many countries. - -On all of his travels Roland had amassed samples of the stuffs he had -seen, had taken notes of dimensions, of prices, of the time required for -special processes, of the cost of materials, had gathered the pamphlets -and volumes written by specialists, often had brought back samples of -machines and utensils. All of this he had applied faithfully in Picardy, -and before the time he comes into our story he had had the satisfaction -of seeing, as a result of his efforts, the number of shops in his domain -tripled, the utensils gradually improved, a great variety of new stuffs -made, the old ones improved, and many new ideas introduced from other -countries. - -At the same time the full reports made of his investigations had won him -honors; the Academy of Science in Paris, the Royal Society of -Montpellier, had made him a correspondent; the academies of Rouen, -Villefranche, and Dijon, an honorary member; different societies of -Rome, an associate. - -He had, too, something besides technical knowledge. He was quite up to -the liberal thought of the day and had ranged himself with the large -body of French philosophers who were working for greater freedom in -commerce, in politics, in religion. In short, M. Roland de la Platière -was a man of more than ordinary value, who had rendered large services -to his country. But with all his value, and partly because of it, he was -not an easy man to get along with. His hard work had undermined his -health and left him morose and irritable. He was so thoroughly convinced -of his own ability and usefulness that he could not suffer opposition -even from his superiors, and he used often, in his reports, an arrogant -tone which exasperated those who were accustomed to official etiquette. -A large quantity of Roland’s business correspondence still exists, and -throughout it all is evidence of his pettish, unbending superiority. In -fact, some very serious controversies arose between him and his -associates at different times, in which if Roland was usually right in -what he urged, his way of putting it was offensive to the last degree. - -Roland prided himself not only on his services, but on his character. He -was independent, active, virtuous. He admired noble deeds and good -lives. He cultivated virtue as he did science and he made himself a -merit of being all this. Nothing is more offensive than self-complacent -virtue. Be it never so genuine, the average man who makes no pretensions -finds it ridiculous and is unmoved by it. Goodness must be unconscious -to be attractive. - -Above all, Roland prided himself on the perfect frankness of his -character, and to prove it he refused to practise the amiable little -flatteries and deceits which, under the name of politeness, keep people -in society feeling comfortable and kindly. Shoe-buckles were a vain -ornament, so he wore ribbons, though by doing it he offended the company -into which he was invited. To tell a man he was “charmed” to see him -when he was merely indifferent, was a lie, therefore he preserved a -silence. He would not follow a custom he could not defend -philosophically, nor repeat a formality which could not be interpreted -literally. By the conventional, what is there to be done with such a -character? They may respect his scientific worth, but they cannot -countenance such contempt for the laws of life as they understand them. - -Mademoiselle Phlipon, however, was not conventional. She admired -frankness and Roland’s disregard of formalities seemed to her a proof of -his simplicity and honesty. She was not offended by the man’s display of -character. She herself was as self-conscious, as convinced of her own -worth, and as fond as he of using it as an argument. As for his -irritability and scientific arrogance, she had little chance to judge of -it. He was so much wiser than she, that she accepted with gratitude and -humility the information he gave. - -It was in 1776 that Roland first came to visit Manon, to whom he had -been presented by Sophie Cannet, with whose family he was allied in -Amiens. The acquaintance did not go far; for in the fall of that year -Roland started out on one of his long trips, this time to Switzerland, -Italy, Sicily, and Malta. It was his plan to put his observations into -letter form and on his return to publish them. He needed some one to -whom he could address the letters, who would guard the copy faithfully -in his absence, and would edit it intelligently if he should never -return. Manon seemed to him a proper person, and so he requested her to -permit his brother, a curé in Cluny College, in Paris, to bring the -letters to her. She naturally was flattered, and the letters which came -regularly were a great delight to her. - -Now the sole object of Roland was evidently to have a safe depot for his -manuscript, yet as the trip stretched out Manon became more and more -interested. Might it not be that this grave philosopher had a more -personal interest in her than she had thought? Might he not be the -friend she sought? Her fancy was soon bubbling in true Rousseau style. -The long silences of M. Roland and the formal letters he wrote were not -sufficient to quiet it. An excuse for this premature ebullition was the -fact that Roland seemed to be the only person in her little world upon -whom for the moment she could exercise her imagination. De Sainte-Lettre -was dead, M. de Sévelinges had withdrawn. True, there was a Genevese of -some note, a M. Pittet, at that time in correspondence with Franklin, -whom she often saw. M. Pittet wrote for the _Journal des dames_ and -talked over his articles beforehand with Mademoiselle Phlipon, even -answering in them objections she had made. She was flattered, it is -evident from her letters to Sophie, by their relation and only waited a -sign to transfer her interest to this eminent Genevese, but the sign was -never given. - -Another reason for her exercising her imagination on Roland was the -dulness of her life at the moment. Though Manon had a large number of -good-natured and devoted relatives and friends who exerted themselves to -please her, she went out but little save to visit her uncle the curé -Bimont. The curé lived in the château at Vincennes. Manon was a real -favorite with the bizarre and amusing colony of retired officers and -their wives, discarded favorites of the Court, and nobles worn out in -the service, to whom a home had been given there. Some of the persons -she met at Vincennes are highly picturesque. Among others were a number -of Americans from Santo Domingo on a visit to an officer. She quickly -came to an understanding with them, and questioned them closely on the -revolution in progress in the neighboring colony. - -In Paris she went out rarely, but when she did go it was usually for a -visit which, at this distance, is of piquant interest. An amusing -attempt she made to see Rousseau is recounted in a letter to Sophie. Not -that she was entirely original in this effort. It was the mode at the -moment to practise all sorts of tricks to get a glimpse of the sulky -philosopher, and Mademoiselle Phlipon, devoted disciple that she was, -could not resist the temptation. A friend of hers had an errand to -Rousseau, of which he spoke before her. He saw immediately that she -would like to discharge it in order to see the man, and kindly turned it -over to her. Manon wrote a letter into which she put many things besides -the errand, and announced that she would go on such a day to receive the -answer. The visit she describes: - -“I entered a shoemaker’s alley, Rue Plâtrière. I mounted to the second -story and knocked at the door. One could not enter a temple with more -reverence than I this humble door. I was agitated, but I felt none of -that timidity which I feel in the presence of petty society people whom -at heart I esteem but little. I wavered between hope and fear.... Would -it be possible, I thought, that I should say of him what he had said of -_savants_: ‘I took them for angels; I passed the threshold of their -doors with respect; I have seen them; it is the only thing of which they -have disabused me.’ - -“Reasoning thus, I saw the door open; a woman of at least fifty years of -age appeared. She wore a round cap, a simple clean house-gown, and a big -apron. She had a severe air, a little hard even. - -“‘Is it here that M. Rousseau lives, Madame?’ - -“‘Yes, Mademoiselle.’ - -“‘May I speak to him?’ - -“‘What do you want?’ - -“‘I have come for the answer to a letter I wrote him a few days ago.’ - -“‘He is not to be spoken to, Mademoiselle, but you may say to the person -who had you write—for surely it is not you who wrote a letter like -that—’ - -“‘Pardon me,’ I interrupted— - -“‘The handwriting is a man’s.’ - -“‘Do you want to see me write?’ I said, laughing. - -“She shook her head, adding, ‘All that I can say to you is that my -husband has given up all these things absolutely. He has left all. He -would not ask anything better than to be of service; but he is of an age -to rest.’ - -“‘I know it, but I should have been flattered to have had this answer -from his mouth. I would have profited eagerly by the opportunity to -render homage to the man whom I esteem the highest of the world. Receive -it, Madame.’ - -“She thanked me, keeping her hand on the lock, and I descended the -stairs with the meagre satisfaction of knowing that he found my letter -sufficiently well written not to believe it the work of a woman.” - -Not all of her visits were so unsuccessful, as her description of one to -Greuze shows: - -“Last Thursday, Sophie, I recalled tenderly the pleasure that we had two -years ago, at Greuze’s. I was there on the same errand. The subject of -his picture is the _Paternal Curse_. I shall not attempt to give you a -full description of it; that would be too long. I shall simply content -myself with saying that, in spite of the number and the variety of the -passions expressed by the artist with force and truthfulness, the work, -as a whole, does not produce the touching impression which we both felt -in considering the other. The reason of this difference seems to me to -be in the nature of the subject. Greuze can be reproached for making his -coloring a little too gray, and I should accuse him of doing this in all -his pictures if I had not seen this same day a picture of quite another -style, which he showed me with especial kindness. It is a little girl, -naïve, fresh, charming, who has just broken her pitcher. She holds it in -her arms near the fountain, where the accident has just happened; her -eyes are not too open; her mouth is still half-agape. She is trying to -see how the misfortune happened, and to decide if she was at fault. -Nothing prettier and more piquant could be seen. No fault can be found -with Greuze here except, perhaps, for not having made his little one -sorrowful enough to prevent her going back to the fountain. I told him -that and the pleasantry amused us. - -“He did not criticise Rubens this year. I was better pleased with him -personally. He told me complacently certain flattering things that the -Emperor said to him.... I stayed three-quarters of an hour with him. I -was there with Mignonne [her _bonne_] simply. There were not many -people. I had him almost to myself. - -“I wanted to add to the praises that I gave him: - - On dit, Greuze, que ton pinceau - N’est pas celui de la vertu romaine; - Mais il peint la nature humaine: - C’est le plus sublime tableau. - -I kept still, and that was the best thing I did.” - -In the quiet life Manon was leading her habits of study and writing -served her to good purpose, and the little room overlooking the Pont -Neuf, where she had worked since a child, was still her favorite shrine. -Almost every day she added something to the collection of reflections -she had begun under the title of _Mes loisirs_, or prepared something -for the letters to Sophie; for these letters to her friend, outside of -the gossip and narrative portions, were anything but spontaneous. Her -habit was to copy into them the long digests she had made of books she -read and of her reflections on these books. Among the manuscript lent me -by M. Marillier I found several evidences of the preparations she made -of her letters. - -In spite of friends, visits, books, and letters, however, Manon was sad -at this period. Her father was leading an irregular life, which shocked -and irritated her. No two persons could have been more poorly prepared -for entertaining each other than M. Phlipon and his daughter. He was -proud of her, but he had no sympathy with the sentiments which made her -refuse the rich husband her accomplishments would have won her. He found -no pleasure in talking with her of other than ordinary events. He -recognized that she felt herself superior to him in many ways, and -though he probably cared very little whether she was or not, he was -annoyed that she felt so. - -Manon, on her part, lacked a little in loyalty towards her father, as -well as in tenderness. She considered him an inferior and always had. -When he took to dissipation, after her mother’s death, in spite of the -honest effort she made to keep his house pleasant and to be agreeable to -him, her pride, as well as her affection, was hurt, and she sometimes -took a censorious tone which could not fail to aggravate the case. There -were often disagreeable scenes between them, after which M. Phlipon went -about with averted eyes and gloomy brow. - -Manon complained to her relatives of the condition of her home, and the -private lectures M. Phlipon received from them only made him more -sullen. Sometimes, to be sure, there were returns to good feeling and -Manon felt hopeful, but soon an extravagant or petty act of her father -brought back her worry. In her despair she was even tempted to give up -her philosopher and marry one of the ordinary but honest and well-to-do -young men her friends and relatives presented. - -Manon was thus occupied and annoyed when M. Roland came back from Italy -in the spring of 1778. As he was much in Paris, the relation between -them soon became very friendly, and he was often at the Quai de -l’Horloge. But we hear almost nothing of him in the letters to Sophie. -The reason was simply that M. Roland had requested his new friend to say -nothing to the Cannets about his visits. Probably he foresaw gossip in -Amiens if it was known he saw much of Mademoiselle Phlipon. Then, too, -Henriette, an older sister of Sophie, was interested in him and he -feared an unpleasant complication in case she knew of his attentions. -Manon carried out his wishes implicitly in spite of her habit of writing -everything to her friend. She even practised some clever little shifts -to make Sophie believe that she did not see M. Roland often and then -only on business connected with his manuscript, or to ask him some -questions about Italian, which she had begun to study. - -The frankness on which she prided herself was completely set aside—a -thing of which she would not have been capable if she had not been more -anxious to please her new friend than she was to keep faith with the -old. Probably, too, she was very well pleased to have an opportunity to -give Roland this proof of her feeling for him. - -In the winter of 1778–79 Roland told her that he loved her. Manon, “en -héroine de la délicatesse,” as she puts it, felt that in the state of -her fortune, which her father was threatening to finish soon, and with -the danger there was of M. Phlipon bringing a scandal on the family, it -was not right for her to marry. She told all this to Roland, who agreed -with her, and they hit on a sort of a Platonic arrangement which went on -very well for a time. They openly declared their affection to each -other; they worked and studied together; they confessed to each other -that the happiness of their lives lay in this mutual confidence and -sympathy. But love is stronger than philosophy, and Roland was ardent. -Manon became unhappy. Was her dream going to fade? Restless and -uncertain, she wrote Roland, who had returned to Amiens, of her fears, -and a correspondence began which soon put an end to their Platonic idyl, -and landed them amid the irritating details which attend a French -betrothal. As this correspondence has never been published, and as it -throws much light on the sentimental side of Manon Phlipon’s life, it is -quoted from rather fully in the following pages. - -Roland had laughed at her first letter complaining of his fervor. In -answer she wrote him a voluminous epistle in which she traced the birth -and growth of her sentimental nature. - -“You laugh at my sermon, now listen to my complaints. I am sad, -discontented, ill. My heart is heavy, and burning tears fall without -giving me relief ... I do not understand myself ... but let me tell you -once for all what I am and wish always to be. - -“It is almost twenty-five years since I received life from a mother -whose gentleness, wisdom, and goodness would be an eternal reproach if -they were not an inspiration. The death of this loved mother caused the -deepest grief I have ever known. By nature I am sensitive (should I pity -or congratulate myself?); a solitary education concentrated my -affections, made them more fervid and profound. I felt happiness and -sorrow before I could call them by name. It was on them that I first -reflected. I was active and isolated.... I was meditating when usually a -child is busy with toys. - -“I have often told you how I was stirred by religious ideas, and how the -restless and vague sentiments which had oppressed me were finally fixed -on certain determined objects. Soon I awoke to the joy of friendship, -and before one would have supposed that I knew I had a heart, it was -overflowing. Young, ardent, happily situated, unconscious of the clash -of interests which makes men wicked, love of duty became a passion with -me and the mere name of virtue aroused my enthusiasm. - -“Eager to know, I began to read history. It became more and more -interesting to me. The story of a brave deed excited me almost to a -delirium. How many times I wept because I had not been born a Spartan or -a Roman! As my horizon enlarged, I began to think about my creed, and my -faith was overthrown. Humanity was dear to me, and I could not endure to -see it condemned without distinction and without pity. I threw over the -authority which would force me to believe a cruel absurdity. The first -step taken, the rest of the route was soon travelled, and I examined all -with the scrupulous defiance which one gives to a doctrine false in an -essential point. The philosophic works that I read at this time aided -me, but did not determine me to come to a decision. Each system seemed -to me to have its weakness and its strength. I held to some of my -brilliant chimeras; I became sceptical by an effort, and I took for my -creed beneficence in conduct and tolerance in opinion. - -“These changes in my ideas had no influence on my morals. They are -independent of all religious system because founded on the general -interest which is the same everywhere. Harmony in the affections seem to -me to constitute the individual goodness of a man; the justice of his -relations with his kind, the wisdom of the social man. The multiplied -relations of the civil life have also, without doubt, multiplied laws -and duties, and those peculiar to each one should be the first subject -of his study. - -“The place which my sex should occupy in the order of nature and of -society very soon fixed my curious attention. I will not say what I -thought of the question which has been raised as to the pre-eminence of -one sex over the other. It has never seemed to me worthy of the -attention of a serious mind. We differ essentially, and the superiority -which in some respects is yours does not alter the reciprocal dependence -in happiness which can only be the common work of both. - -“I appreciated the justice, the power, and the extent of the duties laid -upon my sex. I trembled with joy on finding that I had the courage, the -resolution, and the certainty of always fulfilling them.... I resolved -to change my condition only for the sake of an object worthy of absolute -devotion. In the number of those who solicited (my hand), one only of -whom I have talked to you (M. de Sévelinges) merited my heart. For a -long time I was silent, and it was only when I realized all the barriers -between us that I asked him to leave me. I have had reason since to -congratulate myself on this resolution, which was painful for me beyond -expression. - -“Many changes have come since, but I have steadily refused to marry -except for love. I have lost my fortune and my pride has increased. I -would not enter a family which did not appreciate me enough to be proud -of the alliance or which would think it was honoring me in receiving me. -I have felt in this way a long time, and have looked upon a single life -as my lot. My duties, true, would be fewer and not so sweet, perhaps, -but none the less severe and exacting. Friendship I have regarded as my -compensation, and I have wished to taste it with all the abandon of -confidence. But you are leading me too far, and it is against that that -I would protect myself. - -[Illustration: - - ROLAND DE LA PLATIÈRE. - - After the painting by Hesse. -] - -“I have seen in your strong, energetic, enlightened, practical soul, the -stuff for a friend of first rank. I have been delighted to regard you as -such, and to all the seriousness of friendship I wanted to add all the -fervor of which a tender soul is capable. But you have awakened in my -heart a feeling against which I believed myself armed. I have not -concealed it. I showed it unreservedly and I expected you to give me the -generous support which I needed. But far from sparing my weakness, you -became each day rasher, and you have dared ask me the cause of my -pensiveness, my silence, my pain. Sir, I may be the victim of my -sentiments, but I will never be the plaything of any man.... I cannot -make an amusement of love. For me it is a terrible passion which would -submerge my whole being and which would influence all my life. Give me -back friendship or fear—to force me to see you no more. - -“O my friend, why disturb the beautiful relation between us? My heart is -rich enough to repay you in tenderness for all the privations it imposes -upon you.... Spare me the greatest good that I know, the only one which -makes life tolerable to me,—a friend sincere and faithful. I have not -enough of your philosophy or I have too much of another which does not -resemble yours in this point only, to give myself up inconsiderately to -a passion which for me would be transport and delirium. - -“My friend, come back more moderate, more reserved, let us cherish -zealously, joyfully, and confidently the tastes which can strengthen the -sweet tie which unites us....” - -This letter threw Roland into confusion. He had taken her at her word -when she suggested an intimate friendship. He had taken her at her word -when she told him her affection was becoming love. He had been, perhaps, -too fervent, but how was one to regulate so delicate a situation? He -wrote her a piteous and helpless sort of letter in which he declared he -was unhappy. Manon replied in a way which did not help him particularly -in his quandary: - -“In the midst of the different objects which surround and oppress me, I -see, I feel but you. I hear always, ‘I am unhappy.’ O God! how, why, -since when, are you unhappy? Is it because I exist or because I love -you? The destruction of the first of these causes is in my power and -would cost me nothing. It would take away with it the other, over which -I have no longer any control.” - -Even after this Roland was so obtuse that he was uncertain of her -feeling for him, but finally he asked her squarely if it could be that -all this meant that she loved him. Very promptly she replied: “If I -thought that question was unsettled for you to-day, I should fear it -would always be.” Will she marry him then, _oui ou non_? He asked the -question despairingly, in the tone of a man who expected a scene to -follow, but could see nothing else for him to do honorably. In a letter -of passionate abandon Manon promised to be his wife. Roland was the -happiest of men. - -“You are mine,” he wrote. “You have taken the oath. It is irrevocable. O -my friend, my tender, faithful friend, I had need of that _yes_.” - -Manon’s joy was unbounded and she told it in true eighteenth-century -style. “I weep, I struggle to express myself, I stifle, I throw myself -upon your bosom, there I remain, entirely thine.” Immediately they -entered upon a correspondence, voluminous, extravagant, passionate. -Manon explained to Roland the beginning and the development of her -affection for him, and labored to harmonize two seemingly incongruous -experiences,—her interest in Roland during the time he was in Italy and -the marriage she had contemplated with M. de Sévelinges. The harmony -seems incomplete to the modern reader, but probably Roland was not -exacting since he was sure of his possession. - -In every way she tried to please him, even keeping their betrothal a -secret from Sophie—this at Roland’s request. They planned, confided, -rejoiced, and made each other miserable in true lover-like style. For -some time the worst of their misunderstandings were caused by delays in -letters, but, unfortunately, there were to be annoyances, in the course -of their love, more serious than those of the postman. There was M. -Phlipon; there was Roland’s family; there were all the vexatious -formalities which precede marriage in France. M. Phlipon was the most -serious obstacle to their happiness. Since his wife’s death he had been -constantly growing more dissipated and common. Roland regarded him with -the cold and irritating disapproval of a man convinced of his own -infallibility, and M. Phlipon, conscious of his own shortcomings, -disliked Roland heartily. For some time Roland refused to ask M. Phlipon -for his daughter, but he counselled her to insist upon having the -remnant of her dowry turned over. - -She began to talk to her father of this, and he, incensed at the -suspicion this demand implied, became surly and defiant. He talked to -the neighbors of his desire to live alone and accused Manon of -ingratitude and coldness. She held to her rights, however, and succeeded -finally in having her estate settled. She found at the end that she had -an income of just five hundred and thirty francs a year. - -The disagreement with her father made her unhappy. She wrote Roland -letters full of complaints and sighs. She saw everything black. She -declared that they were farther apart than ever, that her heart was -breaking. After a few weeks of melancholy she came to an understanding -with her father and wrote joyously again. This occurred several times -until at last Roland grew seriously out of patience with her. He told -her that it was her lack of firmness that was at the bottom of her -father’s conduct; that she was “always irresolute, always uncertain, -reasoned always by contraries.” His letters became brief, dry, -impatient. Finally, however, he wrote M. Phlipon, asking for Manon. - -The difficulty that Roland had foreseen with his prospective -father-in-law was at once realized. The old gentleman, incensed that his -daughter would not give him Roland’s letters to examine before he -replied, answered in a way which came very near ending negotiations on -the spot. Since his daughter had taken her property into her own hands -and since she refused to let him see the correspondence which had passed -between her and Roland, she could enjoy still further the privileges her -majority gave her and marry without his consent. - -Roland wrote to Manon, on receiving this curt response, that the _soul_ -of M. Phlipon horrified him; that he loved her as much as ever, -but—“your father, my friend, your father,” and delicately hinted that it -would be impossible for him to present such a man to his own family. -This was in September. For two months they lived in a state of miserable -uncertainty. Roland accused Manon of irresolution, of inconsistency, and -inconsequence; she accused him of fearing the prejudices of society, of -caring less for her than for his family’s good-will. With M. Phlipon -Manon alternately quarrelled and made up. Wretched as the lovers were, -their letters nearly always ended in protestations of affection and -appeals for confidence. - -The first of November Mademoiselle Phlipon brought matters to a crisis -by leaving her father for good and retiring to the Convent of the -Congregation. She wrote Sophie, who, of course, had known nothing of her -affair with Roland, but to whom she had often written freely of her -trouble with her father, that she had taken this resolution in order to -save her family, if possible, from further disgrace. - -In going into the convent she had broken with Roland. They were to -remain friends, but dismiss all projects of marriage; but they continued -to write heart-broken letters to each other. She told him, “I love you. -I feel nothing but that. I repeat it as if it were something new. Your -agonized letters inflame me. I devour them and they kill me. I cover -them with kisses and with tears.” - -Roland was quite as unhappy. He had taken Manon at her word again when -she declared that their engagement was at an end, and that they would -remain friends; but he could not support her unhappiness; he was too -wretched himself. The worst of it was that he could not make out what -she wanted: “You continually reproach me,” he wrote her in November, “of -not understanding you. Is it my fault? Do you not go by -contraries?”—“You complain always of what I say, and you always tell me -to tell you all.... You protest friendship and confidence at the moment -you give me proofs of the contrary. All your letters are a tissue of -contradictions, of bitterness, of reproaches, of wrangling.” - -This unhappy state continued until January, when Roland went to Paris -and saw Manon. Her sadness and her tears overcame him, and again he -begged her to marry him. This time the affair was happier, and in -February Manon Phlipon became Madame Roland. - -Twelve years later, in her Memoirs, Madame Roland gave an account of -this courtship and marriage, which is a curious contrast to that one -finds in the letters written at the time. If these letters show -anything, it is that she was, or at least imagined herself, desperately -in love; that after having outlined a Platonic relation she had broken -it by telling Roland she loved him too well to endure the restrictions -of mere friendship; that she had been extravagantly happy in her -betrothal, and correspondingly miserable in her liberation; and that -when the marriage was finally effected she was thoroughly satisfied. - -But in her Memoirs she says of Roland’s first proposal: “I was not -insensible to it because I esteemed him more than any one whom I had -known up to that time,” but—“I counselled M. Roland not to think of me, -as a stranger might have done. He insisted: I was touched and I -consented that he speak to my father.” She gives the impression that as -far as she was concerned her heart was not in the affair, that she -merely was moved by Roland’s devotion, and that she saw in him an -intelligent companion. Of his coming to her at the convent, she says -that it was he alone who was inflamed by the interview, and she gives -the impression that his renewed proposal awakened in her nothing but -sober and wise reflections: “I pondered deeply what I ought to do. I did -not conceal from myself that a man under forty-five would have hardly -waited several months to make me change my mind, and I confess that I -had no illusions.... If marriage was, as I thought it, a serious tie, an -association where the woman is for the most part charged with the -happiness of two persons, was it not better to exercise my faculties, my -courage, in that honorable task, than in the isolation in which I -lived?” - -But at the time that Madame Roland wrote her Memoirs she was under the -influence of a new and absorbing passion. The love, which twelve years -before had so engulfed all other considerations and affections that she -could for it break up her home, desert her father, take up a solitary -and wretched existence, even contemplate suicide, had become an -indifferent affair of which she could talk philosophically and at which -she could smile disinterestedly. - - - - - III - SEEKING A TITLE - - -The first year of their marriage the Rolands spent in Paris. New -regulations were being planned by the government for the national -manufactures, and Roland had been summoned to aid in the work. It was an -irritating task. His principles of free trade, and free competition, -were sadly ignored, even after all the concessions obtainable from the -government had been granted, and Madame Roland saw for the first time -the irascibility and rigidness of her husband when his opinions were -disregarded. - -They lived in a _hôtel garni_, and she gave all her time to him, -preparing his meals even, for he was never well, and spending hours in -his study aiding him in his work. Roland’s literary labors seem to have -awed her a little at first, and she took up copying and proof-reading -with amusing humility and solemnity. It was not an inviting task for a -young and imaginative mind accustomed to passing leisure hours with the -best thinkers of the world. Roland was writing on manufacturing arts and -getting his letters from Italy ready for the printer. As always, he was -overcrowded with work. He was particular and tenacious, careless about -notes, and wrote an execrable hand,—about the most aggravating type -possible to work with. But his wife accommodated herself to him with a -tact, a submission, a gentleness which were perfect. He found her -judgment so true, her devotion so complete, her notions of style so much -better than his own, that he grew to depend upon her entirely. It was -the object she had in view. She wanted to make herself indispensable to -him. - -Thus the first year of her marriage was largely an apprenticeship as a -secretary and proof-reader. In order to be better prepared for her -duties, she determined to follow the lectures in natural history and -botany at the Jardin des Plantes. This study, begun for practical -reasons, was in reality a delight and a recreation; for she had already -a decided taste for science, and was even something of an observer. The -lectures led to her forming one of the most satisfactory relations of -her life, that with Bosc, a member of the Academy of Sciences, and well -known in Paris for his original work. Bosc took an active interest in -Madame Roland and her husband, and was of great use to them in their -studies, as well as a most congenial comrade. In fact, they saw almost -no one but him at this time. Absorbed in her husband and her new duties, -Madame Roland relished no one who was not in some way essential to that -relation. Even Sophie was neglected; only six letters to her during the -year 1780, after the marriage, appearing in the published collection, -and evidently from their contents they are about all she wrote. - -The year was broken towards its close by a two months’ visit to the -Beaujolais, where Roland’s family lived. That she was heartily welcomed -by her new relatives and charmed by her visit, her reports to Sophie -show. “We are giving ourselves up like school children to the delights -of a country life,” she wrote from Le Clos, “seasoned by all that -harmony, intimacy, sweet ties, pleasant confidences, and frank -friendship can give. I have found brothers to whom I can give all the -affection that the name inspires, and I share joyfully bonds and -relations which were unknown to me.” When she returned to Paris she -declared that she was delighted with her trip, that the separation from -her new family was painful in the extreme, and that the two months with -them were passed in the greatest confidence and closest intimacy. - -From Paris they went to Amiens, which was to be their home for some -time. The old city, with its glorious cathedral, its remnants of middle -age life, and its industrial atmosphere, interested her but little. In -fact, she never had an opportunity to get very near to it. The first -year of her stay she was confined by the birth of her only child, -Eudora. Good disciple of Rousseau that she was, she concluded to nurse -her baby herself, in defiance of French custom, and naturally saw little -of Amiens society. - -When she was able to go out, Roland’s work had become so heavy that she -had little time for anything but copying and proof-reading. He was -preparing a serious part of the famous _Encyclopédie méthodique_, the -continuation of the work of Diderot and D’Alembert. Of this great -undertaking four volumes—numbers 117–120—are devoted to manufactures, -arts, and trades; the first three of these are by Roland, and appeared -in 1784, 1785, and 1790. - -The plan Roland followed in this work is an excellent example of the -methodic mind of the man, bent on analyzing the earth and its contents, -and putting into its proper place there each simplest operation, each -smallest article. He devised an ingenious diagram in which he classified -according to the historic, economic, or administrative side everything -he treated—one is obliged to master this system before he can find the -subject he wants to know about. A botanical analysis is play beside it. -Roland’s contributions to the _Encyclopédie méthodique_ are valuable no -doubt, but one needs a guide-book to find his way through them. - -Roland’s attempt to run over everything which directly or indirectly -concerned his subject, and the enormous number of notes he made, -encumbered his work wofully. He could not resist the temptation to use -everything he had at hand, and as a result his articles are frequently -diffuse and badly arranged, though always full of instruction, even if -it is sometimes a little puerile. Neither could he resist the temptation -to condemn and to argue. - -But though burdened with details sometimes irrelevant, not properly and -sufficiently digested, too personal, indulging in much criticism of his -authorities, not to say considerable carping, the volumes on -manufactures and arts are a colossal piece of work, most valuable in -their day, but which never had their full credit because of the stormy -times in which they appeared, and, perhaps, not a little too, because of -the chaotic series of encyclopedias to which they belonged; for -certainly there could with difficulty be a greater mass of information -published in a more inaccessible shape than that in the _Encyclopédie -méthodique_. - -It was in arranging notes, copying, polishing, and reading proofs of -articles on soaps and oils, dyes and weaving, skins and tanning, that -Madame Roland spent most of her time from 1780 to 1784. A part of the -work which was more happy was the botanizing they did. During their four -years at Amiens, she made, in fact, a very respectable herbarium of -Picardy. - -Of society she saw less than one would suppose, since the Cannets were -here, and since her husband occupied so prominent a place. She did, of -course, see Sophie and Henriette, but not often. Roland did not wish her -to be with them much, and she, obedient to his wishes, complied. They -had one intimate friend—a Dr. Lanthenas that Roland had met in Italy, -and who, since their marriage, had become a constant and welcome visitor -in their home. Then there were their acquaintances in the town—but for -them she cared but little. - -Indeed, she was thoroughly submerged in domestic life. She seems to have -had no thought, no desire, no happiness outside of her husband and her -child. A great number of her letters written at this period to Roland, -who was frequently away from home, have been preserved; one searches -them in vain for any interest in affairs outside her house. She wrote -pages of her _bonnes_, of the difficulty of finding this or that in the -market, of the price of groceries, of the repairs to be made, above all, -of her own ills and of those of Eudora, and she counselled Roland as to -his plasters and potions. Her absorption in her family went so far that -public questions rather bored her than otherwise, as this remark in a -letter in 1781 shows: - -“M. de Vin [one of their friends at Amiens] came to see me yesterday -expressly to tell me of our victory in America over Cornwallis. He -saluted me with this news on entering, and I was forced to carry on a -long political conversation—I cannot conceive the interest that a -private person, such as he is, has in these affairs of kings who are not -fighting for us.” - -Her calm domestic life was broken in 1784. Roland was dissatisfied at -Amiens. His health was miserable. His salary was small. He was out of -patience with the men and circumstances which surrounded him. His idea -was to seek a title of nobility. Such a concession would give him the -rights of the privileged, freedom from taxes of all sorts, a certain -income, a position in society. He would be free to pursue his studies. -There were grounds on which to base his claim. His family was one of the -most ancient of Beaujolais. Then there were his services,—over thirty -years of hard work, long tedious travels, solely for the good of the -country. - -It was decided, in the spring of 1784, that Madame Roland undertake the -delicate and intricate task of presenting the matter at Versailles. In -March she went to Paris, armed with the _mémoire_ which set forth -Roland’s claim. It is a collection of curious enough documents; showing -how one must go back to very ancient times to find the origin of the -Rolands in Beaujolais, how the name is “lost in the night of time, a -tradition placing it between the eleventh and twelfth centuries.” - -The memoir which presents this family tree of Roland is further -strengthened by the names of the foremost of Beaujolais, testifying that -it is “_sincère et véritable_”; and by a row of big black seals. Of -actual connected genealogy the memoir goes no further than 1574. Roland, -however, took a lofty tone, and declared his services were a more solid -and real reason for granting his request. Evidently they had thoroughly -studied the situation, had gathered all the facts which would support -their case, and had enlisted all their relations of influence, so that -when Madame Roland began her diplomatic career she was furnished with -all the arms which reflection on a desired object give a woman of -imagination, eloquence, and beauty. - -The daily letters which they exchanged in the period she was in Paris, -give a fresh and charming picture of favor-seeking in the eighteenth -century. They wrote to each other with frankness and good humor of -everything—rebuffs or advancement. They evidently had concluded to leave -nothing unturned to secure the reward which they were convinced they -deserved. - -Madame Roland established herself, with her _bonne_, at the Hôtel de -Lyon, Rue Saint Jacques, then the Boulevard Saint Michel of the Left -Bank. Her brother-in-law, a prior in the Benedictine Order of the Cluny, -lived near by and helped her settle; brought her what she needed from -his own apartment; passed his evenings with her; did her errands, and -helped her generally. She seems not to have seen her father at all. - -In order to secure the grant of nobility, a favorable recommendation to -the King from the Royal Counsel of Commerce, of which body the -_conseiller ordinaire_ was M. de Calonne, _Contrôleur-général des -finances_, was necessary. To obtain this all possible recommendations -must be brought to M. de Calonne’s attention; particularly was it -necessary to cultivate the directors of commerce, with whom the -Controller-general consulted freely, and on whom he depended for advice. -They had arranged, before she left Amiens, a list of the people upon -whom they could rely directly or indirectly for letters of introduction -and for other favors. - -No sooner was she settled than she began the work of seeing them. At the -very commencement she encountered prejudice and irritation against -Roland. One of her friends, who evidently had been investigating affairs -ahead, assured her that Roland was viewed everywhere with -dissatisfaction, and that the common opinion was, though he did a great -deal of work, he did not know how to keep his place. One of the -directors told her: “Take care how you present him to us as a superior -man. It is his pretension, but we are far from judging him as such.” -“Pedantry, insupportable vanity, eagerness for glory, pretensions of all -sorts, obstinacy, perpetual contradiction, bad writer, bad politician, -determination to regulate everything, incapable of subordination,” were -among the criticisms upon her husband, to which Madame Roland had to -listen. - -All of these complaints she faced squarely, writing them to Roland with -a frankness which is half-amusing, half-suspicious. One wonders if she -is not taking advantage of the situation to tell her husband some -wholesome truths about himself. She did not hesitate, in repeating these -criticisms, to add frequent counsels, which support the suspicion and -show how thoroughly she realized the danger of Roland’s fault-finding -irritation. “Above all, as I told you before my departure, do not get -angry in your letters, and let me see them before they are sent. You -must not irritate them any more. Your pride is well enough known, show -them your good nature now.” - -The criticisms on Roland’s character did not disconcert her. She pressed -ahead, talked, reasoned, urged, obtained promises; in short, showed -herself an admirable intrigante. She was afraid of no one. “As for my -rôle, I know it so well that I could defend it before the King without -being embarrassed by his crown,” she wrote Roland. After she had secured -what she wanted from each person, she did her best to keep them -friendly; for she had decided to ask for a pension if she did not secure -the letters. She succeeded admirably, even M. de Tolozan, one of the -directors whom she called her “bear,” telling her one day: “You have -lost nothing by this trip, Madame. We all do honor to your honesty and -your intelligence, and I am very glad to have made your acquaintance.” - -She seems not to have despised rather questionable methods even: “Did I -not let a certain person who was asking about my family, and who was -astonished that I should take so much trouble for a daughter, believe -that I expected an heir in a few months? That makes the business more -touching. They look at me walk and I laugh in my sleeve. I do not go so -far, though, as to tell a deliberate lie, but, like a good disciple of -Escobar, I give the impression without talking.” - -Whenever she was successful she was frankly delighted, and she began to -think herself capable of great things in diplomacy: “If we were at Paris -with just fifteen thousand livres income, and I should devote myself to -business—I almost said intrigue—I should have no trouble in doing many -things.” Her friends at Paris had as good opinion of her ability as she -herself did. Bosc wrote Roland of her surprising _finesse_ in managing -difficult relations, in interesting people, and of turning even -objections to her own credit. “In fact, she is astonishing,” he says. - -But it was not easy after all. There were delays which wore out her -spirit. And she experienced to the full the effects of the French vice -of doing nothing on time. The continual trips back and forth to -Versailles exasperated her. Then the business of each counsel was so -great that even after she had gotten to M. de Calonne she was obliged to -wait her turn. The money all this cost was, of course, a constant -annoyance. They were poor and could not afford the carriage hire, the -finery, and the presents that favor-seeking in the simplest way cost. -The business of solicitation in itself was much less rasping for her -than one would suspect. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. Her successes -set her writing bubbling letters to Roland. She rarely showed -irritation, almost never impatience of the greatness of others, nor any -sign of feeling her position as a solicitor. It was only the failure to -see her cause advance rapidly that disheartened her. - -The uncertainty lasted until the middle of May, when it became evident -all had been done that could be, and that the title was impossible. She -decided to retire to Amiens and to return later to seek a pension. -Suddenly she got a new bee in her bonnet. When making her farewell -calls, she heard a bit of news which persuaded her that changes were to -be made in the department of commerce by which Roland might be sent to -Lyons as inspector. It was a larger and more interesting city than -Amiens. It was near his home. The salary would be larger, the work -easier. There was no time to consult Roland. If done at all, it must be -done on the spot. She went to work and almost immediately secured her -request. The directors with whom she had been laboring so long to secure -the impossible, were glad enough to grant her what appeared to them -reasonable. At the same time that she received word of the appointment, -a letter came from Roland saying that the change to Lyons, of which she -had written him as soon as it came into her head, would suit him if it -would her. - -Roland took this leadership and decision on the part of Madame in most -excellent spirit. The change was the best that they could do, he wrote; -as for the work, that would go on “in slippers.” He even showed no -resentment at a curtain lecture she gave him adroitly by the way of a -third person, telling him of his duties at Lyons. He cast out of the -account her fears for his health and peace of mind. It was she who -occupied him—if the change pleased her he had no other care. - -Indeed, from the beginning of the campaign, Roland’s letters to his wife -were full of consideration for her position, of anxiety for her health, -of longing for her return. Every ache or fatigue she wrote of caused him -the greatest anxiety. Throughout the correspondence, the expression of -confidence, of mutual help, of tenderness, was perfect. Their interest -extended to every detail of the other’s life, Madame Roland insisting -upon her husband’s wearing a certain plaster for some of his ailments, -and he counselling her not to come home without a new hat. - -They gave each other all the news of Paris and Amiens, and there are -many pages of her letters, especially, which are interesting for those -studying the life of that day: thus, during her stay in Paris, two -famous pieces—the _Danaïdes_ of Gluck and the _Figaro_ of -Beaumarchais—were given for the first time, and her letters on them are -long and vivid. More curious than opera or theatre is the place -mesmerism takes in the letters; the Rolands had taken up the new fad, -presumably to see what it would do for Roland, and were members of the -Magnetic Club of Amiens; Madame Roland repeated to her husband -everything she heard on the subject. - -Wire-pulling, favor-seeking, letter-writing, theatre-going and -Mesmer-studying were over at last, and the end of May she started home, -and glad to go. The separation had been severe for them both. There is -scarcely a letter in the two collections not marked by tenderness; many -of them are passionate in their warmth and longing. It is evident that -at this time Madame Roland had no life apart from her husband. - -Madame Roland reached Amiens early in June. The first day of July she -and her husband left for a trip in England which they had long planned. -She counted much on it; for many years she had been an enthusiastic -admirer of the English Constitution and its effects on the nation. -Roland had been there before and was somewhat known, and naturally she -saw what he thought best to show her. - -The journey lasted three weeks and she wrote full notes of what she saw -for her daughter. These notes were published in Champagneux’s edition of -her works. They are in no respect remarkable for originality of -observation, or for wit. But they are always intelligent and practical, -a result, no doubt, of Roland’s companionship. They touch a wide range -of subjects and they are entertaining as a look at what an -eighteenth-century traveller saw. It is easy to see that Madame Roland, -as most travellers do, sought to confirm her preconceived ideas. -England, for her, was the country of freedom, and she saw that which was -in harmony with her ideas. - - - - - IV - COUNTRY LIFE - - -It was in September of 1784 that the Rolands arrived in Beaujolais. -Although Roland’s new position kept him the greater part of the time at -Lyons, they settled for the winter some twenty-eight kilometres north, -in Villefranche-sur-Saône. It was mainly for economical reasons that -they did not go to Lyons. Roland’s mother had a home at Villefranche and -they could live with her through the winter. The summers and autumns -they meant to spend at Le Clos de la Platière, the family estate about -eleven miles from Villefranche, which had recently come under their -control. With such an arrangement it was necessary to take only a small -apartment at Lyons. As M. Roland could come often to Villefranche and Le -Clos, Madame planned to spend only about two months of the year at -Lyons. - -Villefranche, their first home in the Beaujolais, is to-day a -manufacturing town of perhaps twelve thousand inhabitants. There is a -wearisome commonplace about its rows of flat-faced houses, a dusty, -stupid, factory atmosphere about it as a whole. It seems to be utterly -destitute of those _genre_ pictures which give the flavor to so many -French towns, utterly lacking in those picturesque corners which make -their charm. - -Save Notre Dame des Marais and the hospital, it has no buildings of -note, but Notre Dame des Marais makes up for a multitude of -architectural deficiencies. It is an irregular fifteenth-century Gothic -church whose unbalanced façade is enriched with an absolute riot of -exquisite carvings. Every ogive is latticed with trefoils and flowing -tracery, every niche is peopled, every line breaks into tendrils, -everywhere is the thistle in honor of the house of Bourbon, everywhere -are saints and angels, devils and monsters. A hundred years ago -Villefranche must have been more interesting than it is now. Certainly -it was more picturesque; for its towers and crenellated walls were still -standing, and at either extremity of its chief thoroughfare were massive -gates, doubled with iron. Its picturesqueness interfered somewhat with -its comfort and sanitary condition in Madame Roland’s eyes. She detested -particularly its flat roofs, its little streets, with their surface -sewers. In its organization it was much more complicated than to-day, -and it possessed at least one institution, since disappeared, which -placed it among the leading French towns of the period, that is, an -academy, one of the oldest in the realm. - -The household which the Rolands entered at Villefranche was made up of -Madame de la Platière, Roland’s mother, and an older brother, a priest -of the town. The latter is a pleasant example of the eighteenth-century -curé, half man of pleasure, half priest, spirited and versatile in -conversation, something of a diplomat, faithful to his dogmas and -duties, _bon enfant_ in morals, but in questions of politics and -religion, domineering and prejudiced. - -The _chanoine_ Roland occupied an excellent position at Villefranche. He -was one of the three dignitaries of Notre Dame des Marais; he was the -spiritual adviser of the sisters at the hospital, and he had been for -over thirty years an Academician. With these offices, his family, and -his agreeableness, he was of course received by all the families of the -town and country worth knowing. - -Madame Roland was on very good terms with the _chanoine_ in all the -early years in Beaujolais, caring for him when sick, making visits with -him, talking with him over the fire winter evenings when Roland was away -from home. No doubt he found her a welcome addition in a house which up -to that time had been under the more or less tyrannical rule of his -mother, a woman “of the age of the century,” and “terrible in her -temper.” Madame Roland found him a welcome relief from the care of her -mother-in-law, whom she seems to have regarded rather as an object for -patience and philosophy than for affection. The old lady was trying. She -had the child’s vice of gormandizing, and after each _petite débauche_, -as her daughter-in-law called it, was an invalid for a few days. Then -she invited recklessly, a habit that made much work and expense, and was -particularly obnoxious to Madame Roland because the company passed all -their time at cards. To see the house filled every evening with people -who had not intellect and resources to entertain each other -intelligently was exasperating. - -All these annoyances Madame Roland repeated to her husband in the long -letters she sent him almost every day. More questionable than her habit -of writing these petty vexations to him was her retailing of them to -Bosc, with whom she was in constant correspondence. - -In spite of the drawbacks there was much brightness in the new home, -much of that close intimacy which is the charm of the French interior. -Madame Roland realized this and frequently painted pleasant pictures to -Bosc as contrasts to the disagreeable ones she gave him. - -Although Madame Roland was greeted cordially at Villefranche by the -leading people, as became the wife and sister-in-law of two prominent -men, she never came any nearer to what was really good and enjoyable in -the place than she had in Amiens. The town displeased her, as it -naturally would, since she insisted on comparing it with Paris. She -amused herself in studying the _soul_ of the place, and she found it -frequently small, false, and distorted. Now an analysis of one’s -surroundings is certainly amusing and instructive, but if one is to be a -good neighbor and agreeable member of the society he dissects, he must -keep his observations to himself; must place humanity and courtesy -higher than analysis. Madame Roland did not do this; she showed often -what she thought and felt, and became unpopular in return. Roland, too, -made himself disliked in the Academy of Villefranche by his domineering -ways. - -The Abbé Guillon de Montléon, of Lyons, who was a fellow academician of -Roland’s, relates that whenever he went to the town to attend Academy -meetings, Madame Roland and her husband tried to secure him as their -guest, and he suggests that this attention was due simply to the fact -that they were on bad terms with their townsmen and were obliged to find -their company in outsiders. It seems that a satire on a number of the -leading people of the town had been sent from Paris, and that it was -believed to be the work of M. and Madame Roland. Whether true or not, -those who had been caricatured revenged themselves by cutting them and -by ordering sent to them each day from Paris satirical epigrams and -songs. - -The Abbé Guillon also tells that Roland left the Academy of Villefranche -in a pet because that body refused in 1788 to adopt the subject he had -suggested for a prize contest—“Would it not serve the public good to -establish courts to judge the dead.” - -However, all that the Abbé tells of Roland must be regarded with -suspicion. He wrote after the Revolution, with his heart full of bitter -contempt and hatred of everybody who had been connected with the -movement which led up to the Reign of Terror in Lyons, and, at that -moment, was not capable of impersonal judgments. - -Madame Roland was not much better pleased with Lyons than with -Villefranche. She did not love the place too well. At Lyons she mocked -at everything, she said. She was well situated there, however. Their -apartment was in a fine house in a pleasant quarter, and Madame had the -equipage of a friend to use when she would. She saw many celebrities who -passed through the town; was invited constantly; made visits; in fact, -had an admirable social position, as became the wife of one of the most -active citizens of the town, and Roland certainly was that. His -reputation for solid acquirements had preceded him. On arriving in Lyons -he was made an honorary member of the Academy, and afterwards an active -member, and from that time he constantly was at the front in the work of -the institution. - -In the archives of the Academy of Lyons there are still preserved a -large number of manuscripts by Roland, some of these in the hand of his -wife. They discuss a variety of subjects: the choice of themes for the -public séances of the provincial academies; the influence of literature -in the country and the capital (this paper was given a place in the -published annals); the outlook for a universal language—to be French of -course. One peculiar paper, to come from so dry a pen as his, is on the -“Means of Understanding a Woman.” Plutarch comes in for a eulogy, and -there is an exhortation on the wisdom of knowing our fellows. Most of -the manuscripts are purely scientific, and treat the subjects in which -M. Roland was particularly at home,—the preparation of hides and -leather, of oils and soaps; the processes of drying. Others consider -means for quickening the decaying manufacturing interests of Lyons. -Altogether, it is a very honorable collection. The annals of the Academy -contain also a full printed report of a contest over cotton velvet which -had embroiled Roland in the North. Both sides of the discussion, which -Roland’s efforts to spread the knowledge of the new industry awakened, -are given. - -I have examined all of these manuscripts, as well as Roland’s printed -articles in the _Encyclopédie_, and elsewhere, for a trace of the idea -the Abbé Guillon de Montléon credits to him, in his Memoirs,—that dead -bodies, instead of being buried, be utilized for the good of the -community, the flesh being used for oil and the bones for phosphoric -acid. This idea was advanced, it is said, to settle a dispute over the -cemeteries, which had long agitated Lyons; but as there is no reference -to it in any of Roland’s manuscripts or printed articles, it is probable -that it was never pushed to public attention, as the Abbé would have his -reader believe. The story is told too naturally not to have at least a -shadow of truth, and such a proposition is so like the utilitarian -Roland that, if anybody in France suggested such a thing, it probably -was he. - -If their life in Villefranche and Lyons was not satisfactory, that at -their country home was entirely so; indeed, Madame Roland seems never to -have been so happy, so natural, so charming, as she was at Le Clos, -where she spent much time each year. - -Le Clos is easily reached from Villefranche. One goes to-day, as one -hundred years ago, in carriage, or, as Madame Roland usually did, on -horseback, by one of the hard, smooth roads which have long formed a -network over the Lyonnais. The road runs from the town along a narrow -valley of luxuriant pasture land, strewn in May, the month in which I -visited the place, with purple mints and pure yellow fleur-de-lys. On -either hand are low, steep hillsides, all under cultivation, but so -divided under the French system of inheritance that they look like -patch-work quilts or Roman ribbons. A kilometre from town one begins to -wind and climb. Hill after hill, mountain after mountain, is passed; the -country opens broad and generous. There is a peculiar impression of -warmth and strength produced by the prevailing color of the soil and -building-material. This part of the Lyonnais is clad in a dark stone, -and walls and churches, roads and fields, are all in varying tones of -terra-cotta; here is the fresh, bright reddish-yellow of a plot recently -cultivated and not yet planted; there the dull and worn-out brown of an -ancient wall; but, though the shades are varied, the tone is never lost. -The green of the foliage and fields is peculiarly dark and positive in -contrast with this coloring of the stone. The whole makes a landscape of -originality and a certain rude strength. It looks like a country where -men worked and where there was little to tempt them to idleness. When -one comes to Beaujolais, after the soft gray tone of the Côte-d’Or and -the Seine-et-Marne, or the dull slate which prevails in Bourbonnais, the -contrast is harsh and a little saddening. - -It is a thickly settled country, and one passes many hamlets, all in -terra-cotta, with high walls and old churches topped by Romanesque -towers. At the centre of these hamlets are ancient crucifixes, some of -them of grotesque carvings. On the distant hillsides are châteaux. - -After climbing many hills, one passes along the side of a mountain -ridge. At the end of this ridge one sees a yellow town, of some fifty -houses, a château with its tower razed to the roof, and a small chapel. -It is the village of Theizé. - -While his eyes are still on the village, he falls into a hamlet, at the -end of whose one street is a high wall and gate. It is Le Clos. Shut in -by high yellow walls,—one might almost say fortifications, they are so -long and so high,—the quaint country house, dating from the first of the -last century, is a tranquil, sheltered spot which gives one the feeling -of complete seclusion from the world. On one side of the house lies the -court, with its broad grass-plot, its low wall, its long rows of stone -farm, and vintage buildings; on the other, lies an English garden, -planted thickly with maples, sycamores, and hemlocks, with lilac clumps -and shrubs, with roses and vines. Enclosing this garden on two sides is -a stone terrace, forming a beautiful promenade. From here all the -panorama of the Beaujolais hills, mountains, and valleys opens, with -their vineyards, yellow houses, forests, and here and there a tower—the -bellevue of some rich nineteenth-century proprietor or the relic of some -ancient château. Far beyond the farthest, faintest mountain outline -rises, on clear nights, the opal crest of Mont Blanc. - -To the left of garden and house are vines and fruit trees; to the right, -a long lane and vegetable garden; and everywhere beyond are vines, -vines, vines, to the very brook in Beauvallon at the foot of the -hillside. - -In Madame Roland’s time the country about Le Clos was much more heavily -wooded than now. There was less of vine raising and more of grain, but -many features are unchanged. These trees are of her time no doubt, these -vines, these walls, and she doubtlessly gathered blossoms, as one does -to-day, from the long hedge of _roses panachés_, the wonderful striped -roses of Provence now almost unknown in France, though still rioting the -full length of one of the walls of Le Clos,—fanciful, sweet things which -by their infinite variety set one, in spite of himself, at the endless -search of finding two alike, as in the play of his childhood with the -striped grass of his grandmother’s yard. - -[Illustration: - - LE CLOS DE LA PLATIÈRE. -] - -From the terrace she saw, as we do, in the valley at the right, the -château of Brossette, the friend of Boileau; and on the hillside in -front, the curious little chapel of Saint Hippolyte; and she must often -have heard the story the country folk still tell of the place, how -centuries ago the Saracens ravaged all the country as far as this -valley, but here were driven back. The Franks, in honor of their -victory, raised a chapel to Saint Hippolyte and many miracles were -performed there, and the people came to the shrine in pilgrimage from -long distances. Now, certain neighbors, wishing to possess this -miracle-working statue of Saint Hippolyte, had it carried off, but at -the moment that the person carrying the saint attempted to cross the -brook in Beauvallon, the holy image jumped from his shoulder and ran at -full speed back to the chapel. The pious thieves, seeing the preference -of the saint, like good Christians, gave up their project. - -The mountains of Beaujolais changed from faintest violet to darkest -purple for her as for us, and the crest of Mont Pilate, or the Cat -Mountain as the Lyonnais peasants call Mont Blanc, startled and thrilled -her by its mysterious opalescent beauty when now and then it appeared on -the horizon suddenly, like some celestial thing. - -The house, a white, square structure, with pavilions at the corners of -the court side, and red tiled roof, is unchanged without, though -rearranged somewhat within. Nevertheless, there are many things to -recall the Rolands and their immediate friends; the ancient well; the -brass water-fountain; now and then a book, with Roland de la Platière on -the fly-leaf, in the well-filled cases which one finds in every room; a -terra-cotta bust of Roland himself (by Chinard, dated 1777); portraits -of the family, including one called Madame Roland, which nobody supposes -to be she; photographs of the beautiful La Tour pastels of M. and Madame -Phlipon, now in the museum of Lyons; an oil of the _chanoine_; a few -fine old arms in the collection which decorates the billiard room; a -table whose top is made of squares of variegated marbles brought from -Italy by Roland. - -There is now and then a sign about the house of what it suffered in the -Revolution; for Le Clos was pillaged then and stripped of its contents -at the same time that the château above had its towers razed. On several -of the heavy doors is still clinging the red wax of the official seal -placed by the revolutionary officers. The _chanoine’s_ crucifix is -there, a graceful silver affair darkly oxidized from long burying, he -having hid it in the garden. In the raids on the property nearly all the -furniture was taken, and for many years the peasants were said to -account for new pieces of furniture in their neighbors’ houses by -saying, “Oh, it came from Le Clos.” Some time after the Revolution, M. -Champagneux, who married Eudora, the daughter of Madame Roland, received -a notice from the curé at Theizé that a sum of “conscience money” had -been given him for the family. - -Life must have been then at Le Clos—a hundred years ago—much what it is -now,—a busy, peaceful round of usefulness and kindliness, of generous -hospitality, of unaffected intelligence. Madame Roland entered it with -sentiments kindled by Rousseau. Her imagination had never been more -actively at work than it had over the prospect of this country -retirement. She had shed tears over the prospect of their future -Clarens, its bucolic pleasures, the delicious meditations, the sweet -effusions of friendship, the healthy duties. And Le Clos realized many -of her dreams; largely because she took hold of the practical life of -the house and farm with good-will and intelligence. She was no woman to -allow work to master her,—she managed it. Nor was she weak enough to -fret under it or to regard it as “beneath her.” She respected this most -dignified and useful of woman’s employments and gave it intelligence and -good-will. This acceptance of and cheerfulness over common duties is one -of the really strong things about Madame Roland. - -Some of the prettiest passages in her letters of this period are of her -homely duties. She kept the accounts, directed the servants, interested -herself in every detail of farm and house. She used her scientific -acquirements practically for the benefit of Le Clos and its neighbors. -Bosc she continually applied to for information. Now it was a remedy, -“sure and easy,” against the bites of the viper, of which there were -many in the country—and they still exist; now for the caterpillars which -were troubling the apples; again it was against an enemy of her -artichokes that she demanded, as a service to the province, a remedy. - -She took a lively interest in agricultural discussions, and many were -the flowers, from the rich flora of Le Clos, which she sent her friend -to analyze, or for a confirmation of her own analysis. - -Her devotion to her neighbors was genuine. In her Memoirs she speaks -with pride of their love for her, and this was no meaningless -recollection. Constantly in her letters there was question of service -rendered to this or that one, and we see that it was not without reason -that her husband was worried lest she make herself ill in caring for the -domestics of Le Clos and the peasants of Boitier and Theizé. - -She did more than care for them and instruct them,—she set them a good -example. Especially in religious matters was she careful to do this. One -who has climbed the long steep hill from Le Clos to the church at -Theizé, has a genuine respect for the unselfishness of a woman who would -get out of bed at six o’clock in the morning for her neighbor’s -sake,—“climbing up the rocks,” she called it. This she did, though Le -Clos possessed its own chapel where the curé came to say the Mass. - -She exercised a delightful hospitality. Le Clos was always open for -their friends. Lanthenas spent much of his time there, and one of the -apartments still is called by his name. Bosc she was always urging to -come, and she drew him many a pretty picture of their summer companies. -There was now and then a friend of Bosc, from Paris, who sought them; -for in those days of stage-coaches one had time to stop over _en route_. -There were foreign and French _savants_ who had heard of Roland and came -to pay their respects, and there were the country counts and abbés. - -And there were amusements besides—an occasional _petit bal_ given by a -_locataire_, where she danced “and contre-danced,” and, in spite of her -thirty-one years, only retired at midnight from “wisdom and not from -satiety.” And there was the watch-meeting which she kept with her -people, and the _vogue_, as the Beaujolais people call their provincial -fêtes. Le Clos had one peculiar to itself—a _vogue_ existing to-day. - -It is one of the events of the year at Theizé—this _vogue_—on Ascension -Sunday and Monday. The place is invaded the day before for preparation: -a stand is put up for the musicians; the wine rooms are cleared out for -the lunch tables; the trees and walls are decorated; outside the gate, -too, before night there is sure to establish itself one of the -travelling lotteries which infest France. - -The morning of Ascension Day there comes, between masses, a committee -headed by a band to take possession of the place and present the fête to -Madame. After dinner come the merry-makers,—young and old from all the -country round; a friendly, pleasant company who dance and walk and talk, -only quitting their sports long enough for the traditional service of -cutting the _brioche_,—a ceremony which begins with a grave promenade of -the big cake around the premises, fanfare ahead. This done, the chief of -the _vogue_, in the midst of a respectful silence from all the two or -three hundred peasants looking on, cuts the cake with a flourish so -solemn that it would be worthy of a sacrifice, and passes around the -pieces among the guests. - -The _brioches_ eaten, they dance again, and that until after the night -falls and the stars come out and the children and the old people go -home—a grave dance now and silent; for the night, the wind in the trees, -the simpler music too changes the gay and romping mood of the afternoon -to one of dreaminess and silence. But Monday they come back gayer than -ever and the dance and romp do not end until, late in the evening, -Madame declares the _vogue_ over. - -In this life at Le Clos Madame Roland’s most serious occupation was the -education of her daughter Eudora. She evidently hoped to find in her -little girl a second Manon Phlipon,—an infant prodigy in sentiment and -taste. She discovered early that Eudora was a rollicking, mischievous, -saucy youngster, who would rather frolic than study and who liked to -play with her doll better than to read Plutarch. She was in despair over -this lack of feeling. At the least sign of sentiment she wrote to her -husband or to Bosc, but as a rule she could only complain of the -indifference of the little miss. - -She had begun by nursing her baby,—Rousseau demands it,—but when she -came back from her favor-seeking at Paris the child—three years old—did -not recognize her. “I am like the women who do not nurse their children; -I have done better than they but I am no farther advanced.” At Le Clos -she became thoroughly discouraged and decided to take up Rousseau again -and study _Émile_ and _Julie_ on the education of children. She arrived -at certain conclusions and as she was about to write her husband of them -one day received a letter from him containing similar reflections. She -replied with her full plan. The letter, hitherto unpublished, is very -sensible. - -“What a pleasure to find that we are one in our ideas as in our -feelings, and for one never to have a plan that the other has not -already thought of. For the last twenty-four hours I have been trying -the method that you suggest with our little one. I had re-read Julie’s -plan, and I had decided that we were too far away from it. Controlled by -circumstances, we have either thought too much or not enough of our -child. Busy in a kind of work which demands quiet, we have kept her at -her tasks and her lessons, without taking time to cultivate a taste in -her for them, or of choosing the times when she was the most disposed -for them. When she has rebelled, and we have wanted her to be quiet, we -have been willing to do anything to silence her, so that we could go on -with our work. - -“‘That which makes children cry,’ Julie says, ‘is the attention that is -paid to them. It is only necessary to let them cry all day, a few times, -without paying any attention to them, to cure them of the habit. If one -pets them or threatens them, it has no effect. The more attention that -you give to their tears, the more reason they have for continuing them. -They will break themselves of the habit very soon when they see that no -one takes notice; for, great and small, no one cares to give himself -useless trouble.’ There, my good friend, is where we have been wrong. -Julie’s children were happy and peaceable under her eyes, but they were -subject to no one and only obliged to allow others the same liberty they -enjoyed themselves. - -“We want to be left in peace; that is just, but sometimes we constrain -our child, and she takes her revenge as she can. Moreover, there is no -use denying it, our little one has a strong will, and she has no -sensibility and no taste. It must be that this is, in part, our fault, -and because we have not known how to direct her. More than that, we risk -making a still greater mistake in conquering her by force or by fear, -though we have believed that it could be done in no other way. In acting -thus, we are going to be unhappy, and our child is going to develop a -hard and an unendurable obstinacy. - -“I have resolved: first, never to get angry, and always to be calm and -cold as justice itself when it comes to a question of correction. - -“Second, never to use either whip or blow, movement or tone, which show -impatience. Blows of whatever kind seem to me odious. They harden, -debase, and prevent the birth of sentiment. On this score we have been -guilty. When, as an infant, Eudora put her hands on something that she -ought not to have touched, and did not take them off at the first word, -it seemed to us that a little blow on her rebellious hand might have -good effect. But that little blow has led to the whip; the child has -become a torment, and we are annoyed by it; that little blow was a great -mistake; it is time that we began over again, and we have not a moment -to lose. - -“Third, the child must be happier with us than with any one else; it is -a question then of making her time pass more pleasantly when she is in -our presence than it does elsewhere. That would not be very difficult if -the mother was sewing or at housework, was free to talk with her -sometimes and to teach her little tasks. In a library, between two -desks, where severe research is going on and where silence is necessary, -it is quite natural that the child grow weary; above all, if she is -forbidden to sing or to chatter, and cannot play with any one. - -“None of those persons who have written treatises on education have -considered the student or those of a similar profession; they have -treated the father or the mother as occupied solely in carrying out -their duties, everything else being set aside for them. But the case is -different here; you must carry on your work, and I am only too happy to -aid you in it. I am a wife as well as a mother, and was the one before -becoming the other. - -“Let us try, then, while at our desks to have our child with us, and to -see to it that she is happy beside us. For that we must leave her free -as much as possible. If nature has not fitted her for study, let us not -insist. Let us form her character as well as we can, and let the rest -come by inspiration, not by punishment or caresses. Let us hold -ourselves to these rules, and I am sure that the child will soon feel -the justice and the necessity as well as the effect of our tenderness. - -“For three days now I have not compelled her to do anything. She reads -five or six times a day to amuse herself, and she seems to think that it -is a good act. Without entirely lending myself to her little hypocrisy, -I nevertheless pretend to be partially, at least, her dupe. In the -evening she begs for music and I make a thousand excuses in order to -have the lesson short, gay, and easy. The great thing is obedience. -There have been scenes, I have punished her and she has wept; but I have -pretended not to notice it, and have gone on with my work in perfect -indifference. She has been obliged to stop some time, and it has never -been very long.” - -The success was something, for by another spring, when the little one -was “six years six months and two days old,” she had commenced to -dislike being blamed as much as she did being put on dry bread; she -loved a caress better than her doll; reading amused her when she had -nothing better to do; and she loved to write and dance,—neither of which -fatigued her head,—but could not endure a story which was more than a -half hour long; and was still “a hundred leagues from Robinson.” - -Madame Roland’s return to Rousseau was not confined to his system of -education. She went back to him at this time for inspiration. In going -to Le Clos she had an ideal,—Julie at Clarens. Probably she found that -in practice there was much more hard work and patient endurance in her -Clarens than there were pastorals and sweet emotions. Much as she -approved these stern virtues, considered abstractly, they aroused less -enthusiasm when applied, and she sought her prophet; not without reward, -for again and again she wrote Roland of her delight: - -“I have been devouring _Julie_ as if it were not for the fourth or fifth -time. My friend, I shall always love that book, and if I ever become -_dévote_, it is the only one I shall desire. It seems to me that we -could have lived well with all those people and that they would have -found us as much to their taste as we them to ours.” - -And again after an evening in the chimney corner with Rousseau: “I shall -read him all my life, and if ever we should be in that condition of -which we no longer think, when you, old and blind, make shoe-laces while -I do needle-work, all the books I shall want will be those of Jean -Jacques. He would make us shed delicious tears and would arouse -sentiments which would make us forget our lot.” - -“Delicious tears” are as always her gauge of happiness. She never -learned that the amount of living one is doing, cannot always be -measured by the emotion one experiences. - -In the days at Villefranche and Le Clos, Roland was as dear to her as -ever. She served him with touching devotion, finding her greatest -delight in being useful to him. The long and tiresome extracts on wool -and hides, bleaching and tanning, were never too long and tiresome for -her to copy, in her vigorous, beautiful hand; the numerous academic -papers and public pamphlets never too numerous for her to apply all her -literary skill and her enthusiasm to polishing and brightening. She -arranged everything to make his life easy and to advance his work, and -her affection was poured out as freely as in the days before their -marriage. He is the “friend _par excellence_.” “I love you madly and I -am disposed to snap my fingers at the rest,” she told him. Her -letter-writing, in his absence, she calls “the dearest of her -occupations,” and it must have been, to judge from the following letter -written seven years after her marriage: - -“I had told —— to go after it [Roland’s letter]. I awaited it in vain -all the evening. He had forgotten to go. I sent him again when I sat -down to supper. While I ate I waited, my heart was troubled. The servant -seemed to me to be gone a long time. My heart jumped at every noise I -heard at the door. Overcome, I said: News from him was never dearer, -never awaited with more tender impatience. I scarcely heard what brother -said and I answered yes at random. It was worse still when the package -came. My heart went out to it beforehand. I examined the writing with -strange haste, I opened it, I read. The mutual sentiment which inspires -us leaves me incapable of feeling anything else. I scarcely spoke the -rest of the evening.” - -Unquestionably she believed in the endurance of this affection for -Roland, so far as there is any indication in her letters. Perhaps -something of the secret of the peculiar tenderness between Madame Roland -and her husband at this time was that Roland was but little at home. -Where the imagination has the habit of idealizing situations and -persons, it is difficult to quiet it—it must have its craving satisfied. -But no idealized object will resist long the friction of every-day life -and the disillusion which is inevitable from constant association. -Madame Roland never ceased her habit of idealization, but, fortunately, -her life with Roland was so broken by his repeated absences that her -imagination did still find pleasure in busying itself with him. - - -For several years after they went to Beaujolais there was but one break -in this busy life for Madame Roland,—a trip to Switzerland taken in 1787 -with her husband and her brother-in-law, the Curé of Longpoint. She -wrote full notes of her trip for Eudora, as she had done of her trip to -England. They were printed by Champagneux in the year 1800. They are -less spontaneous than those on England, following almost entirely -Roland’s letters of ten years before. This trip into Switzerland was to -have been followed by one to Italy, which never was taken. - -And so their life went on from 1784 to 1789. On the whole, it was happy, -as it certainly was useful and honorable. To be sure, they were not -quite satisfied. They still felt keenly that the title and privileges -they had asked had been refused, and they still cherished hopes of being -retired. Madame Roland, especially, kept the matter in view and worked -to bring it about; thus, in September of 1787 we find her directing -Roland: “Write to the _bear_ and pay him the compliment of your -encyclopedic work. I have imagined a little letter of which I send you -the idea. To flatter a person’s pretensions is a means of capturing his -good-will. If it is true that he has a mistress, Lanthenas must unearth -her, as well as the sides on which she is accessible. They will be -convenient notes to have in the portfolio, and can be used as one does -certain drugs in desperate cases.” - -On the whole, Madame Roland was very well off, and her life would -undoubtedly have gone on thus to the end, broken after a while, perhaps, -with the much desired pension; perhaps, by even the title of nobility; -she then would have had the “paradise” she so much desired—“the pretty -apartment in town and a bijou at Le Clos”; she might, on the other hand, -have had her sad sentimental picture realized and Roland, blind, have -made shoe-laces and she done needle-work, while they both shed delicious -tears over Rousseau, had there not been something in the air which was -about to take away all from him that had and to give it to him who had -not; to make leaders of country lawyers, and doctors, and schoolmasters, -and to send the diplomats and courtiers a-begging. - -The French Revolution was coming, and to trace briefly how it grew in -the Lyonnais and how our friends in particular regarded it and were -drawn to side with it, is our next affair. - - - - - V - HOW THE ROLANDS WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION - - -Monsieur and Madame Roland had both, throughout their lives, been -intelligent observers and critics of, as well as, to a degree, sufferers -from, the financial and social causes of the French Revolution. They had -both sympathized with the preliminary outbreaks of that revolution -which, beginning early in the century, had recurred at intervals -throughout their lives. They both had thoroughly imbibed the -intellectual causes of the movement, those new ideas of Voltaire, -Diderot, Helvétius, Abbé Raynal, Rousseau, which, coming _after_ the -first agitation,—there had been many a riot in Paris, in Lyons, in -Rouen; the King had been warned many a time that there were still -Ravaillacs; the word _Révolution_ had been often spoken by the French of -the eighteenth century before these men wrote,—had backed up the -revolutionist with philosophy and logic. - -Roland was but ten years old, a boy in the Lyonnais, when the war with -Austria caused so much misery, and when a new levy of men and the -doubling of the taxes desolated and irritated the province. Lyons was -obliged to contribute two million livres at that time to aid the King. -He was seventeen when, in 1751, the misery again became so terrible that -riots occurred throughout France, and D’Argenson wrote: “Nothing but a -near revolution is talked of on account of the bad condition of the -government.” These things could not but have affected him. Indeed, the -bad outlook at Lyons was one reason that he left home with the idea of -making his fortune in America. As a boy, then, Roland had felt the -financial errors of the French government. - -He was at Rouen when, in 1756, the Seven Years’ War broke out. At that -moment the annual receipts of the State were two hundred and fifty-three -million livres, the expenses between three hundred and twenty and three -hundred and thirty millions. That year Roland saw the people obliged to -pay a twentieth of their revenue—the detested _vingtième_. No one was -exempt, and no doubt the bill fell heavily on the manufacturing -interests. This tax was in addition to the _taille_, which tormented the -small proprietors of the country, and from which the nobles and clergy -were free. In addition were the special taxes of which Roland must have -felt the injury especially, both in the Lyonnais and at Rouen. These -included the _aides_, or tax on drinks; the _octroi_, at the gate of -every city; the salt-tax; the special duties on iron, leather, and -paper; the impost on tobacco, cards, and oils; the custom duties at the -frontier of every province of France, as well as at the frontier of the -kingdom. - -Two years later at Rouen, 1758, Roland no doubt felt the effect in his -personal expenses of the result of the gift which the city, in common -with all the cities, boroughs, and seignioralties of the kingdom, was -obliged to pay to help on the war, and to meet which they received -permission to put a tax on all drinks, on meat, hay, and wood. When one -has to pay more for his wood and fire, he reflects why. - -Two years later the Parlement of Rouen, in common with several others of -the kingdom, flatly refused to register the royal edicts creating new -taxes, declaring, with a hardihood superior even to that of the -Parlement of Paris, that the system of taxation was unjust, and the -people the victims of royal abuse, and suggesting audaciously a -parlement of France composed of all the parlements of the kingdom. So -eloquent and so free was this declaration that it was even printed and -sold in Paris. - -Roland’s position made him familiar with all these revolts; he heard -them discussed as well as the King’s haughty, energetic reply to the -deputation of the Parlement. “I am your master. I ought to punish you -for the impudence of your principles. Go back to Rouen, register my -decrees and declaration without further delay. I will be obeyed.” - -He was touched, no doubt, by the remonstrance which the same body sent -to the King in 1763: “Your people, Sire, is unhappy. Everything shows -this sad fact. Your parlements, the only organs of the nation, repeat it -unceasingly.... A deluge of taxes pitilessly ravages our towns and our -provinces; the property, the industry, the person of citizens, all are a -prey to these extraordinary imposts; poverty itself, and the charity -which aids it, have become its tributaries and its victims. The farming -out of the _aides_, whose rules attack all conditions and commerce in -general, weighs on the poor in a most inhuman manner. The farming of the -salt-tax presents a spectacle not less revolting.” - -At Amiens, as inspector of manufactures, Roland had a still better -opportunity to see the defects of the financial and commercial system of -France. At that time, in almost all the villages of the kingdom, the -exercise of the different arts and trades was concentrated in the hands -of a small number of masters, united in trades-unions, who alone could -make and sell certain objects. The man who wished to enter a trade could -only do so by acquiring a _maîtrise_. To do this he must go through a -long and painful apprenticeship and spend much money to satisfy the -numerous imposts and exactions. Frequently a large part of the sum which -he needed for setting up his shop or store was consumed in acquiring his -license. Certain unions excluded all but sons of masters, or those who -had married the widows of masters; others rejected all who were born in -another town—foreigners, as they called them. In a number of the unions -a married man could not be an apprentice. To practise his trade after -having served his apprenticeship, a linen-dealer must pay twenty-one -hundred livres; a dyer, thirteen hundred and fifty; a mason, seventeen -hundred; a butcher, fifteen hundred; a potter, twenty-four hundred; and -so on through all the trades of the community. One could not work if he -would, unless the union gave him permission, and all classes of citizens -were obliged to submit to the dictation of the unions as to whom they -should hire. So narrow was the spirit of these organizations that women -were not allowed to carry on even such industries as embroidery. - -Worse, in Roland’s eyes, were the restrictions on the way in which an -article was to be manufactured. These were so numerous that industrial -genius and initiative were practically prevented, that the manufacturer -could not respond to the demands of fashion and of taste, and that -competition with foreign trade was largely cut off. He could make only -certain stuffs. The dimensions were fixed; the dyeing and stamping must -follow a certain formula; they must bear a certain mark. If by any -accident, intentional or not, a stuff was turned out which did not -conform exactly to the rules, the severest penalty was fixed. A system -of inspection, most irritating and frequently unjust, was made of every -piece of goods; even houses with long reputation for honest -manufacturing were subjected to this examination, which was sometimes -little more than a kind of spying exercised by young and incapable men -who had no commercial training. A grave injustice was according the -title of _manufacture royale_ as a favor, or often, to new institutions, -for a sum. - -Roland clashed constantly with these regulations throughout his term in -Amiens. - -Mademoiselle Phlipon had likewise, in the days before her marriage, been -influenced by public affairs. She was in a centre where the populace -throbbed continually. A stone’s throw from her house the Parlement sat, -and its every act was a sign for popular joy or discontent. There could -be no demonstration without its passing largely under her windows. From -the first days of her life, then, her political education commenced. A -child of less intellectual curiosity and of less sensibility would not -have responded to these popular outbursts. They would have made but -fleeting impressions. It was different with her; she watched it all, -felt the rage or joy of the people, and brooded over its meaning. There -is, indeed, no more fascinating study in her life than the influence -which the panorama of the Pont Neuf and the Place Dauphine had upon her. - -When she was eight years old she saw the smoke of burning volumes, as -she looked from her window towards the Place de la Grève. It was -Rousseau’s _Émile_ going up in smoke. Every year after she saw the same -suggestive sight. Now it was remonstrances against interferences by the -King with the rights of the Parlement which were burned; now the -seditious utterances of the independent parlements of Bretagne, of -Rouen, of Dauphiné; now a too liberal general history of the present -condition of Europe, translated from the English; now too bold -reflections on feudal rights; now Voltaire’s _Dictionnaire -philosophique_; now Holbach; now Raynal; now Helvétius. In 1775 she -heard La Harpe admonished “to be more circumspect in the future,” -because of a daring article he had published. These condemned authors -she was beginning to read. - -She began to hear from her earliest days the word _révolution_. It had -been pronounced frequently for a long time in private, but it began to -be said aloud. When she was nine years old, a Paris priest declared: “We -approach a state of crisis and an age of revolutions. I believe it -impossible that the great monarchies of Europe endure long.” The priest -was condemned at the Châtelet across the river from her window, but his -discourse was printed and scattered right and left. She heard gossip of -how the Parlement had told the King that Frenchmen are free men and not -slaves; and a little later it is quite possible that she saw the King on -his way to the Palais de Justice, where, under the very eyes of the -Parlement, he erased their rebellious decree, and declared: “It is in my -person alone that the sovereign power exists; it is from me alone that -my courts have their existence and their authority; it is to me alone -that independent and indivisible legislative power belongs; public order -emanates entirely from me.” - -In 1770 she saw bread riots and seditious pamphlets posted in Paris. In -January, 1771, came the dissolution and exile of the Parlement because -of its refusal to record Louis XV.’s humiliating decree abrogating its -power and condemning its conduct. Little Manon saw a surging crowd of -Parisians filling the palace and its neighborhood—a crowd in which, -wrote one who watched it, “there was sometimes a dull silence, as in -times of great calamities; sometimes a noise and a murmur like that -which precedes great revolutions.” - -She saw the new and detested body—organ of the King’s despotism—sitting -in a veritable camp, and the walls of the palace covered with abusive -inscriptions. She read, too, many of the hardy pamphlets which flooded -the country after this despotic _coup d’état_. In them the doctrine of -power residing in one individual was roundly attacked; the divine -authority of kings was denied flatly, and the Constitution of England, -with the example of 1688, was held up to the country. We know she -followed the exciting seven months of the trial of Beaumarchais and -Goëzmann. When Louis XVI. came to the throne, she shared the general joy -at his promises, and doubtless felt that it was a true prophet who -printed _resurrexit_ on the statue of Henry IV., in front of her door. - -When in the next year the bread riots began and across the river the -people pillaged the markets, she saw much of the disorder,—people -dancing with joy over a loaf they had secured; guards about the bakeries -to give the bakers an opportunity properly to bake the bread: hungry men -waiting with their eight sous, taking the loaves from the very oven; -shops closed in terror, as the rioters moved from quarter to quarter. - -Married, the Rolands saw together all the abuses of the realm and aided -in the struggles against them. The first year of their married life -Roland labored in vain at Paris with the committee which the King had -summoned from the manufacturing centres of France, to obtain greater -freedom in the industries, and was forced to go back to Amiens with a -list of vexatious restrictions still encumbering all varieties of -manufacturing. - -After their marriage they were constantly cramped for money, for -Roland’s salary was very small, and he had but few privileges in -connection with his position. For instance, when Madame Roland was in -Paris in 1784 seeking the letters of nobility, she was forced to guard -her expenses with the greatest care; to avoid taking _fiacres_ as often -as possible, and to take cheap seats at the theatre. In the Beaujolais -she had been forced to give up going to Lyons often, on account of the -expense of life there, to stay much at Le Clos, and to administer her -household with greatest economy. - -There was no complaint on their part because of their poverty, but there -was dissatisfaction with the system which did not reward properly a man -who had given his life to the interests of his country, and had produced -numbers of valuable works, while it took up insignificant individuals, -and, through favoritism or for a round bribe, gave them easy and amply -paid positions, and allowed them to keep them whatever they did or did -not do; a system which, in short, justified Beaumarchais’ -characterization: “Il fallait un calculateur pour remplir la place, ce -fut un danseur qui l’obtint.” (An accountant was wanted in the place, a -dancer received it.) - -After the Rolands left Amiens, they came into personal contact with the -feudal rights; for in the Beaujolais the peasant was still often obliged -to give personal service to his lord. It was to the lord’s wine-press he -was obliged to take his grapes, to his mill that he must take his wheat. -They saw the effect of the wretched salt-tax, an indirect tax which -forced every inhabitant to buy seven pounds of salt a year, and it cost -eight times what it does to-day, considering the value of money. Not -only was he forced to buy, he was forced to use it in certain ways,—not -a grain of that seven pounds could be employed anywhere except in his -table food. If he wanted to salt pork, he must buy another kind. - -They probably saw, in their rides to and from Lyons, the peasants bent -at their _corvée_, or road tax; for the peasants still made the royal -roads in the Lyonnais. On an average, they gave twelve days a year, and -the use of their own implements, to the highways which they rarely had -the advantage of using. The terrible tolls were another unjust -imposition from which they suffered personally. They were innumerable. -Let a boat of wine attempt to go from Dauphiné, by the Rhone, Loire, and -the canal of Briare, and it paid thirty-five to forty kinds of duties, -not counting the entrée to Paris. From Pontarlier to Lyons there were -twenty-five or thirty tolls. If Madame Roland had bought ten cents worth -of wine in Burgundy, it would have cost her fifteen to eighteen sous -before she got it to Lyons. - -Another experience which intensified their disgust with the _ancien -régime_ was the study of the affairs of Lyons. In a report made, in -1791, on the condition of the city, Roland showed how Lyons, after -having been for a long time one of the most flourishing cities of the -world, because of her active and peculiar industries, and having earned -a world-wide credit, attracted the attention of the government, at that -time completely corrupt. The State forced the city to compromise her -industries and credit in order to lend money. She borrowed again and -again, and gave in return the saddest, most ruinous compensation,—the -permission to tax herself. This had gone on until Lyons was bankrupt, -her industries ruined, her streets full of beggars. - -This condition of finances and society they had long seen, as had the -whole country, must be changed or there would be an upheaval. They had -even calculated on this change when Madame Roland was soliciting the -letters of nobility at Paris, and the probability that when it came -something would fall to them. Like all France, it was in a reform of the -finances that they saw hope, and it was that which they demanded. They -did not believe that France was hopelessly involved, but were confident -that she could extricate herself by severe economies in the -administration, by cutting off favoritism, by arranging a just system of -taxes. Up to 1789 that was all that was demanded. - -Like all France, they participated in those outbursts of joy which swept -over the country at various periods in the reigns of Louis XV. and Louis -XVI., when ministers of force and wisdom devised relief. - -The call for the States-General, in 1788, interested them more deeply -than ever in the reforms needed; the effort of the Parlement of Paris to -prevent the Third Estate naming as many members as the nobility and -clergy together, and to prevent their sitting together aroused them. -When, however, in spite of all opposition, the King issued the edict -allowing the Third Estate double representation and called for the -election of members to, and the preparation of _cahiers_ for, the coming -gathering, the Rolands went to work with energy. It was on the -preparation of the _cahiers_[2] sent to the States-General by the Third -Estate of Lyons that Roland was principally occupied, and it was with -hopefulness that he saw the deputies and the memorials depart for -Versailles, where, on May 4th, the twelve hundred representatives of the -nation met to begin the work of restoring order in France and of making -a constitution. - -Footnote 2: - - Memorials prepared by each of the three classes, setting forth their - grievances, their demands, and the compromises they were willing to - make. - -At Le Clos the Rolands watched eagerly every act of the States-General, -of the King, and of the people. But the drama played in Paris and at -Versailles between May 4th and July 14th, turned their hopefulness to -despair, their gratitude to suspicion, their generosity to resentment, -their pliability to obstinacy. - -Suddenly, on July 14th, the Parisians, terrified at the rumors of a -conspiracy on the part of the Court which had for its object the -overthrow of the pet minister, Necker, the adjournment of the National -Assembly, the abandonment of reforms, and the coercion of the people by -the foreign soldiers who had been massed in and around the capitol, -razed the Bastille. - -With the falling of the Bastille a new ideal arose, full-winged, before -Madame Roland. Before the 14th of July she had no idea that out of the -events she watched so eagerly anything more than a reform of the -existing régime would grow; the old régime, stripped of its abuses and -regulated by a liberal constitution, was all she had asked. Now all was -changed; compromise, half-way measures, were at an end. Instead of -reforms she demanded “complete regeneration.” She saw in the sudden -uprising of the people the “sovereign” exercising “the divine right of -insurrection.” It was what Jean Jacques Rousseau had declared in the -_Social Contract_ the people had the right to do if the government under -which they were living was unjust. She seems to have gone at once to the -conclusion that, since the rightful “sovereign,” had at last asserted -itself, an immediate regeneration was to follow, abuses were to be wiped -out, tyranny destroyed, selfishness annihilated, equality created, and -the world to run at last with precision and to the satisfaction of all -concerned. To her the fall of the Bastille was the revolution of -society. “Friends of humanity, lovers of liberty,” she wrote afterwards, -“we believed it had come to regenerate the human kind, to destroy the -terrible misery of that unhappy class over which we had so often -mourned. We welcomed it with transports.” - -Their transports soon turned to irritation; for the immediate -regeneration she had pictured was replaced by struggles more fierce than -ever before. - -To those of her liberal aspirations, determined on a constitutional -government, recognizing the sovereignty of the people and the equality -of men, two political courses were open at that moment. They could unite -with the liberal party of reform in a struggle to frame a constitution; -could insist while this was doing upon respect for the National -Assembly; could recognize the difficulty of the situation; could respect -the laws and be patient;—or they could refuse alliance with this party -on the ground that reforms were no longer the need of France, but that -complete regeneration must be demanded; could suspect, and induce others -to suspect, the sincerity of all those who applied the doctrines less -vigorously than they did; could encourage by excuses or tacit sympathy -the riotous party which with incredible fecundity was spreading over -France, explaining its actions as the lawful efforts of the sovereign -people to get rid of its oppressors and to take possession of its own -rights. - -Madame Roland did not approve of the first party. It attempted nothing -but reforms. She wanted every vestige of the old régime wiped out. She -suspected it, hated it. It had proved itself unworthy and must be -abolished. The real sovereign must be allowed to prepare a government. -She had no particular idea of what this government should be; certainly -she did not suggest a republic. She was convinced, however, that it -would be a simple matter to arrange something where happiness and -justice and prosperity should be the lot of all. - -To obtain this ideal condition she believed riot and civil war -justifiable; indeed she believed them necessary now that the fall of the -Bastille had not been enough. They were necessary to keep the usurper in -terror and the people suspicious. For her part, even if she were a woman -and for that reason excluded from public activities, she meant to keep -her friends aroused to the necessity of insurrection. - -There is no doubt that the policy of Roland in the Revolution and the -relations which he formed and which shaped his course of action were due -to this determination of Madame Roland to use her influence in -agitation. All their contemporaries remark her ascendency over her -husband. But she did not content herself with inspiring Roland. The two -friends with whom she had been so long in regular correspondence, Bosc -and Lanthenas, she strove, with all her eloquence, to urge to action. “I -write you now but little of personal affairs. Who is the traitor who has -other interest to-day than that of the nation?” Once Bosc wrote her a -story of an interesting adventure; she replied: “I do not know whether -you are in love or not; but I do know this, that in the situation where -we now are, no honest man can follow the torch of love without having -first lit it at the sacred fire of country.” She formed new political -relations—the first, with Brissot de Warville, was of particular -importance to them. - -The Rolands had had a slight correspondence with Brissot before the -Revolution; for he, having been attracted by Roland’s writings, had sent -him certain of his manuscripts as a mark of his esteem. This had led to -an exchange of courteous letters, and, through one of their common -friends in Paris, the relation was still further cemented, and a regular -correspondence had grown up. When the Revolution came, Brissot started -_Le patriote français_ and the Rolands sent him “all,” said Madame -Roland, “which, under the circumstances, seemed to us to be useful to -publish.” A large number of these letters were published in the -_Patriote français_. - -It was not only in Paris that her letters inspired by their ardent -patriotism. They were in relation with a young man at Lyons, called -Champagneux. The 1st of September, 1789, he started the _Courrier de -Lyon_, a journal something in the style of Brissot’s, intended to preach -the principles of 1789, and to show what was passing in the National -Assembly. Madame Roland wrote often to this journal. - -The most important correspondence which she carried on at this time was -with Bancal des Issarts, a lawyer, formerly of Clermont, who had left -his profession for politics. Bancal had been a deputy to the National -Assembly, and, after the closing of the session, had returned to -Clermont, where he had established a society of Friends of the -Constitution. Returning to Paris, he made the acquaintance of Lanthenas -and the two had planned a community in which they wished to associate -the Rolands. Their idea was to buy a quantity of national property and -found a retreat where they could together prosecute the work of -regenerating France, while at the same time having the delights and the -stimulus of intelligent companionship. - -Lanthenas introduced Bancal by letter to the Rolands, and a -correspondence was at once begun. Madame Roland, as a rule, wrote for -both herself and her husband. Her letters are as patriotic and as -passionately vindictive as those she wrote Bosc. - -[Illustration: - - MADAME ROLAND. - - From the painting by Heinsius in the museum of Versailles. -] - -At the same time she preached to her acquaintances at Villefranche and -Le Clos, and solicited subscribers for Brissot’s journal. - -There was nothing vague or uncertain about her position at this moment. -Her convictions, her plan of action, had been taken. It was -uncompromising, unflinching war against the existing government. Twelve -days after the fall of the Bastille, she wrote to Bosc: “You are -occupying yourself with a municipality, and you are letting heads escape -that are going to conjure up new horrors. You are nothing but children; -your enthusiasm is a straw fire and if the National Assembly does not -put on trial two illustrious heads, or some generous Decius does not -take them, you are all mad.” She made the demand because she did not -believe in the King’s and the Court’s sincerity. Every action of theirs -which was liberal, a concession to the popular party, she scoffed at. Of -the appearance of the King and his beautiful Queen in the Assembly she -wrote: “They were abominably frightened, that is all the business shows. -Before we can believe in the sincerity of their promise to agree to what -the Assembly shall do, we must forget all that has passed ... the King -must send away all the foreign troops ... we are nearer than ever to a -frightful slavery if we allow ourselves to be blinded by false -confidence.” - -Her dissatisfaction with the National Assembly was complete. She sneered -at the emotion when Marie Antoinette appeared in their midst seeking -protection: “The French are easily won by the fine appearance of their -masters, and I am persuaded that the half of the Assembly has been -_bête_ enough to be touched at the sight of Antoinette confiding her son -to them. Morbleu! is it then of a child of which it is a question! It is -the safety of twenty million men. All is lost if we do not take care.” -The constitution displeased her, too: “We blush in reading the public -papers. They are plastering up a bad constitution just as they have -botched an incomplete and faulty declaration. Am I not going to see a -demand for the revision of all?” - -She saw clearly that it was not from the people of France, as a whole, -that she would get the revision of the constitution which she asked, or -a second to her demand for the heads of the king and queen. “There is -only one hope,” she said, “it is in Paris. It is for you, Parisians, to -give the example. By a wise and vigorous address show the Assembly that -you know your rights, that you mean to preserve them, that you are ready -to defend them, and that you demand that it declare them. Without such a -movement all is worse than ever. It is not the Palais Royal which must -do it; it is the united districts. However, if they do not respond, let -it be done by whomsoever it may, provided it be in sufficient numbers to -impose and to carry others by its example.” She was even ready to go a -little farther and did it cheerfully: “A civil war is necessary before -we shall be worth anything. All these little quarrels and insurrections -seem to me inevitable; I cannot imagine that it is possible to come from -the bosom of corruption and rise to liberty, without strong convulsions. -They are the salutary crises of a severe sickness, and a terrible -political fever is necessary to take away our bad humors.” - -Truly, there were few better Jacobins in 1793 than Madame Roland was two -months after the fall of the Bastille; for we have here in purity the -doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, the divine right of -insurrection, the demand for the head of Louis XVI., the call to Paris -to take into her hands what the people of the country are not ready to -do, even to use its power of terrorism against the Assembly, composed of -the representatives of the people. - -This spirit, this restless energy, never left her, though she was buried -at Le Clos almost all the first eighteen months of the Revolution. She -kept herself aflame by correspondence with her friends and by her -propagandism among her neighbors, most of them decidedly recalcitrant. -Especially did she incite herself by her reading. Writing to Bancal once -she told him: “I have left all the Italian poets for the _Tacitus_ of -Davanzati. It is not permitted in a time of revolution to turn to -pleasant studies, or objects remote from the public interest. If I can -give a little time this winter to English, I shall read Macaulay’s -history. I shall leave the historian only for the novel of Rousseau, -which is perfectly suited to civism.” - -She saw no danger in her doctrines. They moved to noble sentiments, to -great aspirations. What greater good? That they incited to crimes, too, -she did not admit. She was recklessly indifferent to what is; she looked -only at what might be. Her eyes were turned to America, to Greece, to -Rome, and not to the facts of the struggles of these countries, only to -the fine actions of their heroes, the rounded phrases of their orators. - -The reasonable girl who welcomed Louis XVI. to the throne, the politic -woman who for years had been seeking a title and its advantages, and who -had been willing to devote all her splendid power to reforming the old -régime, had become suddenly inexorable in her demands, unyielding in her -suspicions, fierce in her thought. She believed that one must “watch and -preach to the last sigh or else not mingle with the Revolution.” It was -the revolt of the idealist against compromises made in the past; -resentment for wrongs suffered; the “strike back” for the title not -granted, and for Roland’s talent and services unrecognized; the hope of -realizing dreams of an ideal society. - -Nor was it a momentary enthusiasm. Her conviction never wavered. Others -as firmly founded in the doctrines as she, and as eloquent in their -defence of them, hesitated sometimes, drew back with apprehension at the -torrents of passion and of demagogy they were loosening on France. But -she never admitted that anything but “complete regeneration” could come -of their teachings. It was the woman’s nature which, stirred to its -depths by enthusiasm or passion, becomes narrow, stern, unbending,—which -can do but one thing, can see but one way; that inexplicable feminine -conviction which is superior to experience, and indifferent to logic. - - - - - VI - FIRST POLITICAL SALON - - -The Rolands were not long in embroiling themselves in Lyons and in the -Beaujolais. Disorganization and disorder were increasing daily there, as -in Paris and throughout the country. The aristocracy, clergy, and -commercial portions of the community, irritated at the failure of the -government to restore tranquillity, and discouraged over the delay of -the National Assembly in forcing its way through the difficulties of the -situation, grew hard against the Revolution. There was a universal -demand for order. Disorder grew from day to day. - -The conservative party was firmly convinced that the disorder was the -fault of the friends of the Revolution. There was a suspicion of -everybody who professed the new doctrines. Those who taught them were -regarded as dangerous “agitators.” The reforms to which they had -consented, and which they had left to the National Assembly, would never -be made, they felt, unless the people could be quieted. They saw a -general and universal catastrophe awaiting society if organization was -not restored. - -On the other hand, the liberals saw in the policy of the aristocrats and -clergy a plot against the people; sympathy with the Court. The disorders -which occurred they attributed either to the just indignation of the -long-oppressed “sovereign,” or to hired agitators, brought in by the -conservative party to stir up riots, and thus cover the popular cause -with odium. - -On either hand there were accusations without proof, suspicions without -cause, violence and hatred instead of patience and good-will. All of the -generosity, the dignity, the reasonableness, which the different estates -had shown a year before in the memorials which they had sent to the -States-General, had disappeared. - -Roland and his wife were known to be deeply in sympathy with democratic -ideas, to preach them constantly. In spite of the fact that his natural -relations were with the aristocratic class, Roland was active in the -people’s clubs at Lyons; he was called the Mæcenas of Champagneux. He -was suspected, if not of inciting to disorder, yet of sympathizing with -it, and of regarding it as an instrument for forcing the Court, and -driving the Assembly. He began to be considered a “suspect” by the -conservatives. Such was the feeling towards him when he was a candidate -for mayor, in 1789, that the most improbable stories were circulated -about him. The Abbé Guillon declares in his Memoirs that Roland -disguised himself and went into the taverns, begging the people’s votes; -that he joined in their orgies and distributed among them seditious -pamphlets. These charges are so inconsistent with the real character of -Roland that it is not worth considering them, and they are only worth -quoting as a specimen of the violent suspicions of the liberals, or -_révolutionnaires_, held and spread by the conservative party. - -About this time a question arose in which Roland took an active -interest—that of the octroi. The misery of the people of Lyons demanded -that it be removed. It was retained, however, and the people, desperate, -rose in revolt. This uprising, said the patriots, was “spontaneous.” It -was the “work of agitators,” declared the conservatives. Brissot, in the -_Patriote français_, condemned the riot. Roland wrote, thereupon, a long -letter defending it, and remarked in Lyons, one day, that there never -had been a revolution yet without bloodshed. This was enough for his -opponents to declare him to be the author of the insurrection. “This -report has already [21 July, 1790] reached the capitol,” wrote Madame -Roland to Bancal, “and in three or four quarters of Lyons, where the -mercantile aristocracy is dominant, the strangest things are said -against him. You judge that this storm disturbs us very little; we have -seen more terrible, and would not mind it if our enemies should cause us -to be called to the bar of the National Assembly. Our friend there would -be like Scipio before the assembly of the people.” - -Every-day matters grew more complicated. The aristocracy, in face of the -disorders, called upon the government for troops. The people, like the -Parisians the year before, were exasperated at the idea of guards. At -the same time rumors of an Austrian and Prussian invasion, organized by -the _émigrés_ who had been leaving France ever since the days of October -5th, irritated and frightened the Lyonnais. It was said that the enemy -would enter by the way of Savoy. The idea of a counter-revolution, -centred in Lyons, was spread abroad and inflamed more than ever the -nervous and terrified populace. - -Madame Roland was convinced of the truth of all these rumors, just as -her opponents were convinced that she and her husband meant anarchy and -violence by their patriotic and determined support of the people and the -Revolution. In every letter to Bancal, since June 22d,—she had been -writing him constantly,—she repeated her distrust. In her judgment, it -was her duty to report very alarming signs. Her two principles, at this, -moment, were “security is the tomb of liberty,” “indulgence towards men -in authority tempts them to despotism.” - -Throughout the summer and fall of 1790, the rumors of -counter-revolution, accusation, denials, suspicion, terror, similar to -what Madame Roland was attempting to spread among her friends, agitated -Lyons; and the preparations for the elections of the year were made in -savage excitement. Roland was again a candidate for a position in the -municipality and from day to day was more detested. Madame Roland’s name -was everywhere associated with his. “They write me from Lyons,” she -says, “that at the mention of my name the aristocrats writhe as those -possessed of devils are said to do when holy water is sprinkled on -them.” - -Roland was elected a member of the municipal government in spite of the -machinations of the aristocrats, the power of whom had been greatly -weakened by the discovery in November of an extensive royalist plot. -There was no doubt of the plot this time, and the reaction in favor of -the Revolution was general. - -They left Le Clos after Roland’s election to establish themselves at -Lyons, which they had made up their minds not to abandon until after its -complete regeneration. So serious were the affairs of the city that the -new municipality soon decided to send representatives to Paris to claim -from the National Assembly the payment of the debt that the ancient -régime had made her take upon herself. Roland was one of the deputies -chosen to go. When he went up on this mission his wife accompanied him. - -The opinions on the work of the Assembly which Madame Roland carried up -to Paris were not friendly. She had watched its work all through the -year with critical keenness. All its actions had been tested by her pure -republican standards, and wherever they fell short had been sharply -condemned. She had absolutely no sympathy with delays, with compromises, -with tentative measures, and she was as aggressively suspicious of the -patriotism of the members as she was of the sincerity of the -aristocrats. The condition of the finances troubled her. She could see -no excuse for a delay in giving the country an exact statement of the -public accounts. The press had not enough liberty to please her. “A -people is not free,” she declared, “and cannot become so, unless each -one has the means of uncovering perfidious designs, of revealing the -abuses of talent as well as of authority, of exposing the opinions of -everybody, of weighing the laws in the scales of universal reason. What -does it matter if one is abused, providing one is innocent and always -ready to prove it? This kind of war on virtue seems to me excellent; -perhaps custom and security do nothing for virtue but take away its -energy. It must be attacked to be strong, and it is danger which renders -it sublime.” - -The manner in which the National Assembly did its work inspired her -contempt. It was stupid, mere patch-work. “It jumps perpetually from one -thing to another,” she complained, “and is behind with the things of the -first importance without our knowing why.” - -On account of this feebleness of the Assembly, she insisted that it must -be watched; that addresses should be made to it by the clubs; that the -_bons esprits_ should unite and sketch the objects which it was suitable -for the legislature to consider, to the exclusion of everything else. -She failed to see that it was largely just this interference with the -Assembly which was preventing its doing its work; that it was because -the patriots in their zeal did not mind their own business, but -encumbered the sittings with demands of the most varied character, -threatened the body with disaster if it did not hear them, sent -delegations on errands, now of private and selfish, now of large import, -that the continuity she demanded was wanting. - -They reached Paris towards the end of February, 1791, and installed -themselves at the Hôtel Britannique, in the Rue Guénégaud, opposite the -Hôtel des Monnaies. Here she was within easy reach of all her old -neighbors, and whenever she went out on the street which opened on the -quay, she could see her old home. She had not been in Paris for five -years. In her intimate circle great changes had taken place. Her father -had died in the rude winter of 1787–88; her uncle Bimont, the good curé -of Vincennes, and the Curé Roland, whom they loved so well, who made the -trip in Switzerland with them, and who had welcomed the Revolution as -they did, were both dead. There was left only “the débris of a family, -which in the last ten years had become almost extinct.” She took the -greatest pleasure in going over the places where her early years had -been passed, and the tears of tenderness she shed in looking on these -familiar scenes delighted her. They proved that she had not allowed -ambition, cares, and petty passions to dry up the springs of her soul. - -Her visits to her old friends were scarcely finished before she began to -devote herself to public affairs. The Assembly was sitting only a little -distance from her hotel, in the Manège of the Tuileries, now destroyed, -but then running along the north side of the garden, parallel with the -Rue de Rivoli, and thither she went frequently, but her first impression -of the body saddened and irritated her. All the opinions she had formed -at Le Clos were only intensified by the nearer view. - -Two years and a half afterwards, when she recalled these visits, she -noted an impression which explains unquestionably something of her -harshness towards the Assembly. “I saw, with secret resentment, that if -reason, honesty, principle, controlled the Left, there were advantages -on the Right, that I would have gladly turned over to the good cause -because of their great effect on an assembly. I mean that easy and noble -elocution, that nicety of expression, that polish in the tones of the -voice,—if I am allowed to express myself so,—which a superior education -and familiarity with good society give.” - -Her pride was wounded by the evident superiority of the aristocrats in -manner and in expression. It aroused in her an altogether illogical -bitterness against them. She was irritated because she and her friends, -who alone, she was convinced, understood unselfish patriotism, who alone -held the doctrines in all their purity and simplicity, should yet be -inferior in externals to their rivals. This distinction became a -personal grievance with her. - -After having followed the Assembly two months, she left a session at the -end of April in anger, persuaded that it was incapable of anything but -folly, and vowing never to look at it again,—an engagement she -faithfully kept. At the same time she told Champagneux, with whom she -and Roland were both in correspondence, that she was not going any more -to the theatre: “It is much too frivolous for my taste in such serious -circumstances.” And to Bancal she wrote: “In other days the fine arts -and all that concern them was the greatest charm of the capital in my -eyes, but now that I know that I have a country I feel differently; the -solicitude of the patriot leaves but little place for matters of taste.” - -To the patriotic clubs she did go, however, and one of them, the Cercle -Social, especially interested her. She even sent letters to it -sometimes, without signing them, however. “I do not believe that our -customs permit women to show themselves yet,” she said; “they ought to -inspire and nourish the good, inflame all the sentiments useful to the -country, but not appear to take part in political work. They can act -openly only when the French shall merit the name of free men; until -then, our lightness, our corrupt customs, would make what they tried to -do ridiculous; and would destroy the advantage which otherwise might -result.” While the Cercle Social pleased them both, the Jacobins were -too conservative. “The Jacobins have lost their credit, no longer doing, -or doing badly, the duty that they took upon themselves, to discuss the -subjects before the Assembly,” Madame Roland wrote. “They are led by -their directors’ board, which is under the thumb of two or three -individuals who are much more careful about preserving their own -ascendency than of propagating public spirit and of serving liberty -efficiently. In the club formerly so useful everything is now done by a -clique.” “We have seen those precious Jacobins,” Roland wrote to -Champagneux. “If objects increase in size as we approach them, it is -rare that it is not the contrary with mortals.” No doubt much of their -dissatisfaction with the Assembly and the public was due to the -difficulty Roland had in pushing the claims of Lyons. Paris was crowded -with commissioners from all the towns between Marseilles and Dunkirk, -and there was the greatest trouble in getting hearings from the -committee charged with such affairs, and in persuading the deputies of -the department to present the business to the Assembly. Roland worked -night and day almost, to push the claim of his town. “I sleep less and -walk much more. Truly I have scarcely time to live.” He besieged the -committee rooms, waiting for hours before the doors to collar his man as -he entered or retired. He ate his morsel of bread alone in order to run -to the Assembly, where one was obliged to arrive early in order to find -a seat. - -The spirit in which he went into the work was one of declared war to the -aristocratic party at Lyons and to the old régime. He was determined to -show up the situation, and exhorted his friends at Lyons to uncover all -the rascality and pillage of the old administration. The deputies from -the Lyonnais were not too sympathetic. They found the persistency, the -_vertu_, the incessant indignation, the insistency of Roland, tiresome. -After sitting so many long months, under such exciting circumstances, -they were weary. They saw the difficulties of getting a hearing, too, -from the Assembly. - -Roland poured out all his impatience to Champagneux, who was his -confidant and sympathizer. Long letters, written in his fine, nervous, -execrable hand, went almost daily to Lyons. They were full of -indignation at everything and everybody; especially was the delay -irritating to him. “If affairs do not go backwards like the crab,” he -says, “at least they go no faster than the tortoise.” The delay -disgusted Madame Roland as much as it did her husband. Both committee -and Assembly were blamed by her. She even wished that she were a man -that she might do something herself. - -Of much more importance to their political lives at this moment than -Assembly, clubs, or committee meetings, were the frequent gatherings of -patriots held at the Rolands’ apartments, in the Rue Guénégaud. They -were “grandly lodged,” the quarter was agreeable, and many of their -friends lived but a short distance away. As Roland found it necessary to -see the deputies frequently, he gathered them about him in his home. -Brissot was the nucleus of the little circle. The relation with Brissot -had been, up to this time, purely by correspondence. When they came to -Paris naturally they were anxious to see him. They liked him at once. -His simple manners, his frankness, his natural negligence, seemed in -harmony with the austerity of his principles. A more entire -disinterestedness and a greater zeal for public affairs were impossible, -it seemed to them. He was admirable, too, as a man, a good husband, a -tender father, a faithful friend, a virtuous citizen. His society was -charming; for he was gay, naïve, imprudently confident, the nature of a -sweet-tempered boy of fifteen. Such Brissot seemed to Madame Roland, who -esteemed him more and more the longer she knew him. - -Brissot brought several of his friends to see them. Among the most -important of these were Pétion and Robespierre. The most interesting of -the group was Buzot, of whom we shall hear much, later. To Pétion, -Robespierre, and Buzot were added Clavière, Louis Noailles, Volfius, -Antoine, Garran (“Cato Garran”), Grégoire, Garaud, and several others. -In April Thomas Paine appeared. So agreeable and profitable were these -informal reunions found to be that it was arranged to hold them four -times a week. The guests came between the close of the sessions of the -Assembly and the opening of the Jacobins. The condition of affairs in -general and of the Assembly in particular was discussed; the measures -which should be taken were suggested, and means of proposing them -arranged; the interests of the people, the tactics of the Court and of -individuals, were constantly criticised. - -To Madame Roland these gatherings were of absorbing interest. She -calculated carefully her relation to them, the place she ought to occupy -in them, and she affirms that she never deviated from it. “Seated near a -window before a little table on which were books, writing materials, and -sewing, I worked, or I wrote letters while they discussed. I preferred -to write; for it made me appear more indifferent to what was going on, -and permitted me to follow it almost as well. I can do more than one -thing at a time, and the habit of writing permits me to carry on my -correspondence while listening to something quite different from what I -am writing. It seems to me that I am three; I divide my attention into -two as if it were a material thing, and I consider and direct these two -parts as if I were quite another. I remember one day, when the -gentlemen, not agreeing, made considerable noise, that Clavière, -noticing the rapidity with which I wrote, said good-naturedly that it -was only a woman’s head which was capable of such a thing, but he -declared himself astonished at it all the same. ‘What would you say,’ I -asked, smiling, ‘if I should repeat all your arguments?’ - -“Excepting the customary compliments on the arrival or departure of the -gentlemen, I never allowed myself to pronounce a word, although I often -had to bite my lips to prevent it. If any one spoke to me, it was after -the club work and all deliberation were at an end. A carafe of water and -a bowl of sugar were the only refreshments they found, and I told them -it was all that it seemed to me appropriate to offer to men who came -together to discuss after dinner.” - -She was not always satisfied with the results of these gatherings. There -were plenty of good things said, but they rarely ended in a systematic -résumé. Ideas were advanced, but few measures resulted. It was fruitless -conversation, in short, and she generalized: “The French do not know how -to deliberate. A certain lightness leads them from one subject to -another, but prevents order and complete analysis. They do not know how -to listen. He who speaks always expands his own idea; he occupies -himself rather in developing his own thought than in answering that of -another. Their attention is easily fatigued; a laugh is awakened by a -word and a jest overthrows logic.” A more just observation on French -conversation would be impossible. It is its delight. A constant bound -from one idea to another, indifference to the outcome if the attention -is kept, insistence by each individual upon expressing his thought at -will, with eloquence and with fantasy, lawlessness, recklessness of -expression, characterize all groups of clever Frenchmen who meet to -talk. But this is conversation for pleasure, not discussion for results. -It was in mistaking this intellectual game of words and sentiments for -reflections and reason that one of the greatest mistakes of the Rolands -lay. It was these vagaries of speech in public, in private, in print -(the pamphlets which poured from the press were little more than random -bits of conversation and as little reflective), which kept the public, -the Assembly, the Court, in a constant state of ebb and flow. But Madame -Roland herself was a victim to this popular weakness. Her letters, which -are almost invariably outbursts of feeling rather than of reflection, -may safely be considered an index to what she was in conversation. - -Another real trouble of the moment which Madame Roland notes, though she -does not see that she shares it, she expressed to Bancal: - -“I have had the opportunity of seeing, since my sojourn here, that it is -much more difficult to do good than even reflecting men imagine. It is -not possible to do good in politics, save by uniting efforts; and there -is nothing so difficult as to unite different minds to work persistently -for the same end. Everybody believes only in the efficacy of his own -system, and his own way. He is irritated and bored by that of another, -and because he does not know how to bend to an idea a little different -from his own, he ends by going alone, without doing anything useful. For -more than a century, philosophy has been preaching tolerance; it has -begun to root itself in some minds; but I see little of it in our -customs. Our fine minds laugh at patience as a negative virtue. I -confess that in my eyes it is the true sign of the force of the soul, -the fruit of profound reflection, the necessary means for conciliating -men and spreading instruction, in short, the virtue of a free people. We -have everything to learn on this subject.” - -Madame Roland’s letters written at this period abound in similar just -criticisms on the Revolutionary temper. Her remarkably virile and -comprehensive intellect penetrated the real weaknesses of the movement -whenever she considered men and measures impersonally. Then she grasped -perfectly the meaning of things, and her observations were profound, her -insight keen, her judgments wise, and her conclusions statesmanlike. - -However discreet Madame Roland may have been at the gatherings in her -salon, however silent she may have kept, she gained at this period a -veritable supremacy over the group of patriots. There were many reasons -for this. She embodied in a sort of Greek clearness and chastity the -principles they professed. No one had a clearer conception of the ideal -government which France should have; no one expressed more eloquently -all this government ought to do; no one idealized the future with more -imagination, more hopefulness. No one gave himself more fully to the -cause than this woman who would not go to the theatre because the -country was in peril; who could not look at pictures; who was ashamed to -send Bancal a song in exchange for one he had sent her, because it was -not grave enough for the circumstances; who was even “ashamed to write -of songs.” She became in a way the ideal Revolutionary figure, a Greek -statue, the type of the Republic of which they dreamed. - -Her inflexibility was as great a power over her friends. They wavered, -compromised, stopped at practical results instead of pushing to ideal -ones. She had decision, firmness of purpose, the determination to reach -the end, and her influence over them was powerful because of this -unyielding attitude. Nothing daunted her. Riot and war were sacred -necessities. To die was their duty. Nothing could have been more -inspiring than her firmness of purpose, her superb indifference to -consequences. This high attitude had something of the inspired sibyl in -it. Their “Greek statue” became their prophetess. Her very cruelty was -divine. It was the “wrath of the gods,” the “righteous indignation” of -the moralist. - -No doubt the personal charm of Madame Roland had much to do with her -influence. All who knew her testify to her attractiveness. Guillon de -Montléon, by no means a sympathetic critic, speaks of “her pleasant, -piquant face, her active, brilliant mind.” Arthur Young, who saw her in -1789, describes her as “young and beautiful.” Dumont declares that to -“every personal charm” she joined “all merits of character.” Dumouriez, -who certainly knew all the beautiful women of his day, found her most -attractive, and speaks especially of her taste and elegance in dress. -Lemontey says of her: “Her eyes, her head, her hair, were of remarkable -beauty. Her delicate complexion had a freshness of color which, joined -to her air of reserve and candor, made her seem singularly young. I -found in her none of the elegant Parisian air which she claims in her -Memoirs, though I do not mean to say that she was awkward.” And he adds, -she talked “well, too well.” Indeed, all her contemporaries testify to -her brilliant conversation. Tissot tells of her “sonorous, flexible -voice, infinite charm in talking, eloquence which came from her heart.” -As the tradition in the family of Madame Roland goes, she was short and -stout, possessed no taste in dress, and could be called neither -beautiful, nor even pretty. However, vivacity, sympathy, and -intelligence were so combined in her face, and her voice was so mellow -and vibrating, that she exercised a veritable charm when she talked. She -herself considered her chief attraction to be her conversational power. -In one of the frequent self-complacent passages in her Memoirs, she -repeats a remark of Camille Desmoulins, that he could not understand how -a woman of her age and with so little beauty had so many admirers, and -she comments: “He had never heard me talk.” - -The portraits of Madame Roland, of which there are numbers, nearly all -show a singularly winning and piquant face. Several good collections of -these portraits are in existence. The Coste collection of Lyons -contained thirty-three different engravings and medallions of her, and -the print department of the Carnavalet Museum and of the Bibliothèque -Nationale have both rather good specimens. By far the best collection, -however, is in the town museum of Versailles—a recent donation of M. -Vatel, a well-known collector of Gironde and Charlotte Corday documents -and curios. - -[Illustration: - - MADAME ROLAND. - - After a crayon portrait owned by the family. -] - -The only surely authentic portrait of Madame Roland is that facing this -page. The original is in red crayon and much faded, but a faithful copy -in black, well preserved, bearing the date of 1822, is in the possession -of the great-granddaughter of Madame Roland, Madame Marillier of Paris. -If one compares this portrait with that of Heinsius at Versailles, he -will see that they have nothing in common. Heinsius’ portrait was bought -in Louis Philippe’s time, and bore the name of Madame Roland up to 1865, -when the placard was taken off because nothing proved that it was she. -However, it still figures in the catalogue as Madame Roland, and -photographs made after it are sold in all Paris shops. The director of -the Versailles Gallery was preparing in 1893 to revise the catalogue, -and purposed then to take the necessary steps to establish the -authenticity of the painting, but as late as May, 1894, it still was -marked Madame Roland. The family do not regard the picture as authentic; -one point they make against it is that it is a full-face view, while, -according to their traditions, Madame Roland never allowed anything but -a profile to be made. It bears no resemblance to other authentic -portraits, and is especially displeasing because of the full eyes, and -the bold expression. These characteristics, however, Heinsius gave to -all his portraits of French women; thus, the portraits of Mesdames -Victoire and Adelaide at Versailles are almost coarse in expression, and -in striking contrast to the other pictures of them which hang in the -same gallery. The best reason for supposing Heinsius’ portrait to be -Madame Roland is a sketch owned by the Carnavalet bearing the -inscription M. J. PHLIPON, GRAVÉ PAR SON PÈRE À 19 ANS, which strikingly -resembles it. - -The reproduction of the painting at the Musée Carnavalet, as well as -that of the cameo head, is due to the kindness of the director, M. -Cousins. The painting is a new acquisition of the museum, exhibited for -the first time in April, 1892. It is more apocryphal even than the -picture of Heinsius. It is a picture of the time—that of a very charming -woman, but it has almost nothing in common with Madame Roland. The eyes -are blue and hers were brown, the hair is lighter, the chin is not so -round and firm, the neck is longer. Besides it is a full-face view, thus -contradicting the family tradition. As for the cameo head, it is -evidently made after the family picture or the engraving of Gaucher, -which latter possesses all the characteristics of the former. - -One other portrait should not be forgotten; it is that traced in June, -1793, on the records of the prison of Sainte Pélagie by her jailer. - -Marie-Jeanne Phlipon, wife of Roland, ex-minister, aged thirty-nine -years, native of Paris, living Rue de la Harpe, No. 5. - -Height, five feet; hair and eyebrows dark chestnut; brown eyes; medium -nose; ordinary mouth; oval face; round chin; high forehead. - - - - - VII - A STICK IN THE WHEEL - - -During the months that the Rolands were in Paris, they were in constant -correspondence with Champagneux at Lyons. Their letters, for the most -part unpublished, show the state of mind into which French idealists -worked themselves in this period. Dissatisfied because the Assembly had -not been able to complete the regeneration of France in two years, -suspicious of everybody whose views differed from theirs, anxious to -show how reconstruction should be conducted and how easy it is to run a -government if you understand the principles and possess civic virtue, -this party of which the Rolands are excellent types worked incessantly -to discredit the government, to arouse contempt for the work the -Assembly had been able to do, and to show that Louis XVI. could not be -in earnest in his declaration of fidelity to reforms instituted. - -The Rolands lamented daily in their letters to Champagneux and other -friends that public opinion was languishing, that the country was -falling into the sleep of the enslaved, that the Assembly was worn out. -They tried to arouse them to suspicion like their own by repeating all -the alarming reports which ran the street without, of course, ever -taking pains to verify their truthfulness, and by railing at them -because they were inclined to feel that reforms were being brought about -quite as rapidly as in the nature of the situation was possible. - -It was not many months before their exasperation had reached such a -pitch that they were convinced that civil war was necessary, and they -began to look about for reasons with which to alarm and push on the -people to it. The only adequate one they found was to persuade the -country that the King was plotting with the _émigrés_ on the border, and -that they and the Austrians were watching for a chance to attack France, -overturn the new government, and restore the old régime. On June 22d an -event occurred which in Madame Roland’s opinion was ample proof of the -truthfulness of their opinions. On the morning of that day Madame Roland -opened a letter written the day before to Bancal to say: “The King and -Queen have fled, the shops are closed, the greatest tumult reigns. It is -almost impossible that Lafayette should not be an accomplice.” - -For twenty-four hours she was in an ecstasy of patriotic hopefulness. -The flight of the King was a renunciation of the contract he had made -with his people in taking the oath to support the constitution. The -evident duty of the country was to declare him dethroned and to -establish a republic. She was so excited she could not stay at home, but -went among her friends, urging them to immediate action. - -Her fixed principle that a woman should take no part in public -proceedings was laid aside now. “As long as peace lasted,” she wrote her -friend, “I played a peaceable rôle and exerted that kind of influence -which seems to me suitable to my sex. Now that the flight of the King -has declared war, it seems to me that every one must devote himself -without reserve. I have joined the fraternal societies, because -convinced that zeal and a good thought may sometimes be useful in a time -of crisis.” - -Her joy was short. The tumult which threatened in Paris was promptly -quieted by Lafayette, at the head of the National Guards. The citizens -were exhorted to calm, to vigilance, to confidence in the Assembly. -Madame Roland writhed under this attitude. “Is this the place to be -tranquil and contented?” she cried. She and her friends, convinced that -the measures to prevent a riot and restore order were directed -especially at themselves, gathered at Robespierre’s, where they -considered ways of driving the people to an action of which the Assembly -was incapable. - -In the midst of their activity the King was brought back, and to their -dismay they saw that he would in all probability be kept in place -without public trial. Their alarm was intense. Without the King they -were convinced all would be well. Regeneration was certain if royalty -could be dispensed with. Nothing else was preventing the adoption of a -Republic. He was “worse than a stick in a wheel,” declared Roland to -Champagneux. - -In the _mêlée_ of opinion which followed the King’s return, Madame -Roland’s position was well defined: “To put the King back on the -throne,” she wrote, “is an absurdity; to declare him incapable is to be -obliged, according to the constitution, to name a regent; to name a -regent would confirm the vices of the constitution at a moment when one -can and ought to correct them. The most just measure would be to try -him; but the country is incapable of anything so lofty as that. There is -nothing to do but suspend and guard him while searching those who aided -in his flight; to go on acting without royal consent and, in order to -put more regularity and activity into the distribution and exercise of -power, name a temporary President. In this way it would be easy to show -Paris and the departments that a king is not necessary and that the -machine can go on well enough without him.” This programme she was -willing to “preach from the roofs,” but it was not adopted. The King was -restored. - -The Republic which she and her friends dreamed of at this moment and did -not hesitate to announce, was not in the public mind, and when they -insisted upon it, they were insisting upon an individual opinion of -which the country at large had no conception, and for which it had no -sympathy. By her own confession both the Assembly and the Jacobins “went -into convulsions” at the mere pronunciation of the name _Republic_. -There were only two societies which, after the flight of the King, dared -declare themselves _tyrannicides_,—the Cordeliers and a group of private -individuals. At the Cercle Social they did discuss whether it was -suitable or not to conserve kings, but at the Jacobins the very name -_Republican_ was hissed. Nevertheless they worked valiantly to spread -their ideas. Robert published a pamphlet on the “Advantages of the -flight of the King and the necessity of a new government or Republic.” -Condorcet published a discussion “Whether a king is necessary to the -conservation of liberty”; and Brissot, at the Jacobins, made a hit with -a speech in which he showed that the cry that the King was inviolable -and could not be tried was false; that even if inviolability were -admitted it did not apply in this case; and that according to the -constitution the King could and ought to be tried. - -Thomas Paine was then in Paris, believing as Dumont says, that he had -made the American Revolution and was called upon to make another in -France. With Condorcet, Brissot, and a few others as sympathizers, Paine -formed a republican society. Their first concern was to publish a -journal, the prospectus of which was posted by Paine on the morning of -the first of July. In it he declared that the King by his flight is -“free of us as we are of him. He has no longer any authority; we no -longer owe him obedience; we know him now only as an individual in the -crowd, as M. Louis de Bourbon”; and he concluded his harangue by the -announcement that “A society of republicans had decided to publish in -separate sheets a work entitled _The Republican_. Its object is to -enlighten people’s minds on this republicanism which is calumniated -because it is not understood; on the uselessness, the vices, and the -abuses of the royalty that prejudice persists in defending, although -they may be known.” This poster made a great noise in the Assembly, -where it was denounced as “worthy of all the rigor of the law.” -According to Madame Roland, it was only by flattering the Assembly’s -love for the monarchy and by abusing republicanism and its partisans, -that it was possible to convince the body that however ridiculous the -idea might be, still it was necessary to leave it free course. - -Only two numbers of _The Republican_ appeared, says Madame Roland, in -her Memoirs; only one, says Moncure D. Conway, in his life of Paine. As -a matter of fact, there were at least four issues, that number being in -the collection of Revolutionary pamphlets in the Bibliothèque Nationale. - -It was soon evident that the new cause would not be supported. -Nevertheless, the new word was launched. The effect of the injudicious, -impractical action of Paine, Brissot, and their friends, Robespierre -described a few months later when he had broken with the Brissotins. -“The mere word _Republic_ caused division among the patriots, and gave -the enemies of liberty the evidence they sought to prove that there -existed in France a party which conspired against the monarchy and the -constitution; they hastened to impute to this motive the firmness with -which we defended in the Constituent Assembly the rights of national -sovereignty against the monster of inviolability. It is by this word -that they drove away the majority of the Constituent Assembly; it is -this word which was the signal for that massacre of peaceable citizens -whose whole crime was exercising legally the right of petition, -consecrated by the constitutional laws. At this word the true friends of -liberty were travestied as factious by perverse or ignorant citizens; -and the Revolution put back perhaps a half a century. It was in those -critical times that Brissot came to the society of the Friends of the -Constitution, where he had almost never appeared, to propose changes in -the form of government, when the simplest rules of prudence would have -forbidden us to present the idea to the Constituent Assembly.” - -As soon as the Rolands and their friends saw that the demand for the -Republic was not welcomed by the people, they turned their efforts -towards securing a trial for Louis XVI. - -It seemed to be the only thing for which they were strong enough. To do -this they were willing to unite with even demagogues, agitators, and -with the worst elements of the people. They had only their voice and -their pen, explains Madame Roland; if a popular movement came to their -aid they welcomed it with pleasure without looking after, or disturbing -themselves about, its origin. Beside they could not believe that a party -made up of the idle and the violent, and led by demagogues, could be -formidable. It was a force to be used when needed, and crushed when the -result desired had been obtained. Even when the union of the Brissotins -with the populace had produced so serious a riot as that of July 17, the -“Massacre of the Champ-de-Mars,” as the radicals called it, Madame -Roland did not change her views. She refused to see that the disorder -was provoked in any degree by the people, and attributed the fault -entirely to the Assembly and Lafayette. - -The letters they wrote to their friends after the riot of the -Champ-de-Mars are full of alarms and of suspicions. “In less than -twenty-four hours,” Roland wrote to Champagneux, “there have been about -three hundred imprisoned at the Abbaye and they are kept there in -secret. People are taken up in the night. There has just passed on the -Pont Neuf [it will be remembered that the Rolands were in the Rue -Guénégaud and could easily see] three loaded wagons escorted by many -National Guards. They say Marat is there, and different club members. -Desmoulins is said to have fled; they are after Brissot. The patriotic -journalists are in bad repute, and frightful charges against them are -being spread. The cross of Saint Louis multiplies incredibly. The -aristocrats are more sly and insolent than ever. It was said yesterday -in the Luxembourg that this legislature could not endure more than six -weeks or two months; that there would be war with the foreigners in this -interval; that the King and the ministers would come out ahead; that -they would displace everybody, annul everything; and that they would -re-establish things on the old basis, but assuredly not less despotic -than before.... There is nothing but treason, lies, poisons. Those who -live in hotels, or who are served by caterers, are afraid. A great -number sleep away from home. There were hundreds of deaths at the -Champ-de-Mars; husbands killed their wives; relatives, relatives; -friends, friends. Saint Bartholomew, the dragonades, offered nothing -more horrible.” - -But this is an alarmist’s letter, a repetition of rumors, not a serious -effort to picture what actually occurred. Compare simply its statement -of the number of killed at the Champ-de-Mars—“hundreds”—with the most -trustworthy accounts, and Roland’s and his wife’s state of mind is -clear. Gouverneur Morris, who was in Paris at the moment, went to the -“elevation opposite”—the present Trocadéro—to see the trouble. He says -there were a “dozen or two” killed; Prudhomme says fifty; the official -report gives twelve killed and the same number wounded. The same -exaggerated statements characterize all their letters. - -Before the summer of 1791 was over Madame Roland was certain that public -opinion could not be aroused to another revolution; that the “stick” was -going to stay in the “wheel”; that the Republic could not be -established. As this conviction grew on her, she lost heart. “I have had -enough of Paris, at least for this time.” She wrote: “I feel the need of -going to see my trees, after having seen so many dolts and knaves. One -rejoices in this little circle of honest souls when his cause triumphs, -but when the _cabale_ is on top, when the wicked succeed and error is -ahead, there is nothing to do but go home and plant cabbages.” - -And this she decided to do very soon, for the beginning of September she -left Paris for Villefranche. Everything on the trip discouraged her. She -wrote Robespierre: “I find the people on the route, as in Paris, -deceived by their enemies or ignorant of the true state of things; -everywhere the mass is well disposed; it is just because its interest is -the general interest, but it is misled or stupid. Nowhere have I met -people with whom I could talk openly and advantageously of our political -situation; I contented myself by distributing copies of your address in -all the places through which I passed; they will be found after my -departure and furnish an excellent text for meditation.” - -It was even worse at Villefranche, where, on arriving, she made a tour -of observation. She was convinced that the most of the inhabitants were -utterly despicable, and made so by the existing social institutions; -that they loved the Revolution only because it destroyed what was above -them, but that they knew nothing of the theory of free government, and -did not sympathize with that “sublime and delicious theory which makes -us brothers”; that they hated the name of Republic, and that a king -appeared to them essential to their existence. - -She was as disgusted with Lyons for its devotion to the aristocracy. Its -elections she declared detestable and the deputies nothing but enemies -of liberty. The officers in the department were as badly chosen as the -representatives; “if one was to judge of representative government by -the little experience we have had of it so far, we cannot esteem -ourselves very happy”; the elections were bought, so were the -administrators, so the representatives, who in their turn sold the -people. Even at Le Clos, where she went immediately for the fall -vintage, there was a cloud; for the calumnies spread at Lyons about -Roland when it was a question of nominating him for the Assembly, had -reached the hills, and the people attributed their absence in Paris to -the supposed arrest of Roland for _counter-revolution_. When she went -out to walk she heard behind her the cry _Les aristocrates à la -lanterne_. - -Although Madame Roland sighed to escape from the “dolts and knaves” of -Paris and longed for the peace of the country, the sentiment was only a -passing one. The charm of the little circle she criticised so freely, -the friendships she had formed, her devotion to the public cause, all -these things made the absence from Paris hard to bear. On leaving she -had hoped it would be only temporary. Roland was much talked of as a -candidate for the new Assembly, and if he succeeded, it would take them -back to Paris. She knew before her arrival at Le Clos that he had failed -to secure the nomination. The news deepened her irritation at the -condition of public affairs, strengthened the sense of oppression which -the province produced, made her dissatisfied with Le Clos, her husband’s -future, Eudora. - -She had not seen her little daughter for seven months. She was deeply -disappointed that she had changed so little. It seemed to her that she -had gained nothing in the interval of separation, and that she had no -idea of anything but loving and being loved. There was one way of -awakening the child, however, in her judgment. She told Roland of it in -one of the first letters she wrote him after reaching Villefranche, when -she said: “Hasten back so that we may put our affairs in shape, and -arrange to return to Paris as often as possible. I am not ambitious of -the pleasures there, but such is the stupidity of our only child that I -see no hope of making anything of her except by showing her as many -objects as possible, and finding something which will interest her.” - -For Roland, too, she felt that Paris was necessary. She was pained at -the idea that he was going to be thrown back into silence and obscurity. -He was accustomed to public life; it was more necessary to him than he -himself thought, and she feared that his energy and activity would be -fatal to his health, if they were not employed according to his tastes. - -When Roland came back, he shared her feelings. He soon finished his -affairs at Lyons, for the National Assembly had abolished the office of -inspector of manufactures, and they spent the fall at Le Clos, occupied -with the vintage, but they were restless. They had but little income and -they turned their minds again to the idea of the pension, to which -Roland’s forty years of service had certainly entitled him. If they were -at Paris, perhaps it could be obtained. Then Roland’s work, which was -simply the encyclopædia, would certainly be easier “at the fireside of -light among _savants_ and artists than at the bottom of a desert”; for -such their retreat seemed to them. They felt the need, too, of being -near the centre of affairs; they ought to be where they could “watch”; -where they could help bring about the “shock” which must come soon or -the public cause would be lost forever. Their dissatisfaction became so -great in the end, and public affairs so exciting, that they decided to -go to Paris. - - - - - VIII - WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION - - -But how could they justify themselves in their determination to bring -about a new “shock,” a second revolution? The Revolution was finished. -In the twenty-eight months that the Constituent Assembly had been in -operation, it had formed a constitution, accepted by Louis XVI. in -September, 1791, which had cut from the nation a score of obnoxious and -poisonous social, political, and economic growths. This constitution -guaranteed, as natural and civil rights, that all citizens should be -admissible to place and to employment without other distinction than -that of virtue and talents; that all contributions be levied equally -among the people in proportion to their ability, and that the same -violations of law be punished in the same way. Every man might go and -come as he would, speak, write, print, what he wished. There was no -limit to the right to assemble peaceably, or to make petitions. Property -was inviolable. Relief for the old, the weak, the poor, was promised. -Public education was to be organized. The sovereignty rested in the -nation; from it came all the power. The constitution was represented by -a legislative body, and the King could not dissolve this assembly. He -was King of the French, and his person was sacred, but he was inferior -to the law, and reigned by it and in its name. - -Undoubtedly, as Étienne Dumont said, “the constitution had too much of a -republic for a monarchy, and too much of a monarchy for a republic. The -King was a _hors d’œuvre_. He was everywhere in appearance, and he had -no real power,” but evidently here was a basis which gave every man in -France a chance, and which offered the opportunity to work out a -satisfactory liberal government. To refuse to work with this -constitution was to continue and to increase the disorganization, the -hatred, the fear, which had been agitating France for so long; it was to -prevent the new government having a fair chance, and was to make any -correction of the constitution impossible. How could Madame Roland -justify her resolve to prevent peace? - -Her ideal was not satisfied. It mattered little to her that the people -were indifferent to this ideal; that they were satisfied with the -constitution and asked for nothing but a chance to let it work. The -satisfaction of this ideal had become a necessity, an imperative -personal need. She could not give it up. It was too beautiful. - -Even if she could support the idea of a constitutional monarchy, she -could not believe in the sincerity of the king and court. “I have never -been able to believe in the constitutional vocation of a king, born -under despotism, raised by it and accustomed to exercise it.” She wrote -in her Memoirs: “Louis XVI. would have been a man much above the average -had he sincerely desired a constitution which restrained his power. If -he had been such a man, he would never have allowed the events which -brought about the constitution.” - -In her judgment the supporters of the monarchy were “traitors,” the -constitutionalists a “cabale.” This suspicion had become a disease. - -While she doubted the sincerity, the patriotism, the unselfishness of -all parties but her own, she had profound confidence in herself. She saw -no rôle in the world she says in her Memoirs, which suited her exactly -except that of Providence. She had penetration, and flattered herself -that she knew a “false eye” at first glance. She and Roland were “strong -in reason and in character,” but she was convinced that she was better -than he. “I have as much firmness and more flexibility. My energy has -more agreeable forms, but it is founded on the same principles. I shock -less and I penetrate deeper.” As for the majority of the human race, it -was a “poor” affair. - -She not only suspected the old régime, and believed herself superior to -it; she cherished a personal grievance against it. It had refused her -solicitations although they were just. She did not forgive the -humiliation. She was near enough to the Court now to feel her dependence -upon it. Years before she had written to Sophie: “I love my prince -because I feel my dependence but little; if I were too near him, I -should hate his grandeur.” She is “too near” now, and her prophecy is -realized. She “hates his grandeur.” It is a species of that resentful -jealousy which distorts certain really superior natures when they find -themselves in the presence of material splendor or of persons of lofty -rank. - -When the Rolands went up to Paris in December, 1791, they found there a -number of important persons who felt as they did, members of the -Legislative Assembly, which had assembled on October 1st. They found, -too, that they were already allied with their friends Brissot, -Robespierre, and Pétion, all three of whom held prominent public -positions, Brissot being a deputy to the Assembly from Paris, and at the -head of the diplomatic committee; Robespierre, criminal accuser; Pétion, -mayor. - -This party of new deputies whom they found so congenial were known as -the Gironde from the department whence most of them had come. They were -all young and all endowed with great talent. They had been brought up on -Plutarch and Rousseau, and their heads were filled with noble doctrines -and drafts of perfect constitutions. When they talked, it was in classic -phrases. Their arguments were based on what happened in Greece and Rome. -Their illustrations were drawn from ancient heroes. There could be no -doubt of the sincerity of their patriotism, of the nobility of their -aspirations, of the purity of their lives, of their anxiety to die, if -need be, for France. - -But they had no experience of politics, of men, or of society, save what -they had gotten from short terms in provincial law offices and clubs. -They had never come into contact with other forces than the petty -agitations and wire-pulling of their home towns. Of the force of human -passions, of the lethargy and persistence of the mass of men, of the -fine diplomacy of the trained statesman, they had not a notion. - -They knew their Plutarch well, to be sure; but all they had drawn from -him was a glibness in making fine periods and certain lofty sentiments, -a species of patriotic emotionalism by which they could move and thrill -men. Of practical policy for difficult and complicated situations, like -the one they had been elected to face, they had not a shadow. - -In courage, in audacity, in buoyancy of spirits, in eloquence, in bright -visions, in purity of life, they are all that one’s imagination could -paint. A more lovable and inspiring group of young men was never called -together. But there was not one of them in whom contact with the world -and sober reflection, had developed the common sense, the clear -comprehensive judgment, the hard determination to do his best, and the -simple honesty which alone make men fit for public office. - -They were as blindly partisan as Madame Roland, and what Dumont said of -Brissot was applicable to the Gironde as a whole: “He was one of those -men in whom the party spirit was stronger than all moral, or rather he -saw no moral save in his own party. No one had so much zeal of the -convent as he. Dominican, he would have burned the heretics; Roman, he -would not have been unworthy of following Cato and Regulus; French -republican, he wished to destroy the monarchy and to reach his object -did not shrink from calumny, persecution, or death on the scaffold.” - -They all had the malady of the times,—suspicion. It had become a species -of superstition with them. “One may laugh if he will,” said Dumont, “at -these imaginary terrors, but they made the second revolution.” It was -useless to argue with them, to give them proofs to call upon their -good-will; they were suspicious and what they imagined was as real to -them as if it had actually existed. They did not need proofs, mistrust -never does. They were possessed by a sentiment and reason had no place. - -As for their self-confidence, it was monumental. “No argument, no -criticism, was listened to by them,” says Mme. de Staël. “They answered -the observations of disinterested wisdom by a mocking smile. One wore -himself out in reminding them of circumstances and what had led to them; -if they condescended to answer, they denied the most evident facts and -observations and used in opposition to them common maxims, though, to be -sure, expressed eloquently.” - -Feeling as they did, the only logical thing for them was to struggle to -obtain power. If they were the “Providence” of France, it was their duty -to get to the front. It was not for the sake of power that they made -this effort. It was because they alone in their own judgment were -sufficiently virtuous and enlightened to carry out the doctrines. They -were “called” to preach liberty and a republic, and they went to their -work in the same frame of exaltation and expectation as he goes who -preaches the Kingdom of Heaven. - -The only way in which they could arrive at power was by uniting with one -of the two parties in the Assembly, with the constitutionalists or the -Mountain, as the Radicals were termed. The former was composed of the -well-to-do and the experienced men of the Assembly. It supported the -King. It was the more honest and trustworthy, but it was accused of -“aspiring secretly to increase the royal authority and to form two -chambers.” - -The Mountain was the party of the agitators and the street. It had the -audacity, the violence, and the populace of the faubourgs. The talents, -education, eloquence, refinement, of the Gironde were in harmony with -the conservatives, but they could not believe that there was not a -secret plot hidden under the patriotic pretensions of the -constitutionalists. Their self-pride was irritated, too, by the -aristocratic traditions, the courtly manners, and the reasonableness of -the moderates. There was a subtile superiority in their wisdom, their -gracious bearing, their _finesse_ which the Girondins resented. - -As for the Mountain the Girondins feared its violence, its open advocacy -of bloodshed less than they did its suspicion. They wanted to be -considered the purest of the patriots and they could not support the -idea that there was any one who pushed farther than they in making -claims for the “sovereign” and for the “divine right of insurrection.” -They had not the practical sense, the experience, and the -disinterestedness to judge the Mountain, to see that it was chaotic, -violent, irrational. Because it called itself the representative of the -poor and the suffering, they imagined that it must be virtuous, and they -wished its support. They feared its opinion of them even more than they -feared the skeleton in the conservative closet. - -To gain its favor they were even willing to sacrifice personal dignity -and delicacy. The Mountain was ragged and dirty, ill-bred and -foul-mouthed, but they shared a superstition of the day that rags and -dirt, little bread and a hut for a home, are signs of patriotism, and if -a man is poor, therefore he must have good principles. They found the -coarseness of the Mountain more endurable than the etiquette of the -Court. Pétion, at his public dinners as mayor, received the Gironde. -Among his guests were many “patriots” of the rudest sort, yet Condorcet, -Guadet, Gensonné, Roland, laughed at Chabot when he put on a _bonnet -rouge_ and went through a series of low buffoonery, mocking the King, -and applauded jests of “shocking grossness.” - -Thus suspicion drove them from the conservative party, while fear of -suspicion drove them towards the Mountain. Resentment at superior -refinement turned their sympathy from the decent element of the -Assembly, while a superstition about the true meaning of rags, dirt, and -disorder awakened it for the wanton element. - -Just as they floated between the parties of the Assembly, they -vacillated between the clubs,—the Feuillants, which was for the -constitution, and the Jacobins, which was for anarchy. Their object was -not simply to do what was just and honorable, it was to do what would -carry them into power. They must have power in order to carry their -cause. To serve their party all means were justifiable. It was their -uncertainty about which side would the quicker give them the leadership -of the Assembly which explains their wavering over all the questions -which absorbed the attention of the Legislative Assembly,—such as the -questions of the unsworn priests, the immigration of nobles, and the -declaration of war against Austria. - -When the Rolands came up to Paris in December, the Gironde was floating -between the two other parties, fearing both, suspected by both. Hate, -defiance, exaggeration, were at their height. No one knew what would -happen next. “You would say it was a fleet at anchor in a thick fog,” -wrote Morris to Washington. “No one dares to put up sail for fear of -running against a rock.” - -When Madame Roland appeared on the scene, she had no hesitation in -deciding what should be done by the Gironde. She had been too firmly -convinced since the fall of the Bastille of the benefits of anarchy to -fear it now. The lack of it had long been her despair. She was too -suspicious of all persons of aristocratic origin to tolerate any union -with the conservative party. She was too firmly convinced of the value -of war as a “great school of public virtue” to hesitate about offensive -operations. - -Arrived in Paris, they settled in the Rue de la Harpe, where they lived -very quietly, Roland occupying himself with the encyclopædia, with his -plan for a pension, and with his friends. He went to the chief places of -Gironde rendezvous when he had leisure, and they came to him sometimes. -His chief political work, however, was at the Jacobin Club, where he was -engaged on a committee. - -Their life was very quiet until March, when it suddenly changed. A -friend dropping in one day told Madame Roland that the patriots were to -be asked to form a ministry and that as they were going to seek men of -ability and courage, Roland had been thought of for a portfolio. Some -days later (March 21, 1792) Brissot came to see her to inquire if Roland -would accept if asked. They talked the matter over, considered its -dangers, sounded its possibilities,—the next day Brissot was told in -classic phrase that Roland’s courage did not falter, that the knowledge -of his force inspired him with confidence in his ability to be useful to -the country and to liberty. - -The movement which had brought about the Girondin ministry had been led -by Brissot. After the vetoes of the King to the decrees against the -priests and _émigrés_, every effort had been made by the Jacobins to -show that the ministry of the King was in secret sympathy with Court and -_émigrés_, that while posing as constitutional, they were, in fact, -anti-constitutional. Brissot had led this movement, and had condescended -to some very low manœuvres to discredit certain members of the ministry. -His plans had at last succeeded, and Louis XVI., hoping to quiet -suspicion, had consented to name a cabinet which would satisfy the -Girondins. - -It was in this body that Roland had been asked to take the Department of -the Interior. As was to be expected, the conservatives criticised the -new ministers harshly from the first. Roland was pictured to the country -by the _Mercure_ as one of the principal agitators of Lyons; “no -administrative talent, no experience in affairs of state, a hot head, -and the principles of the times in their greatest exaggeration.” The -conservative element naturally accepted this characterization; for, -outside of the manufacturing world, Roland was utterly unknown. As for -the Jacobin element, it was a question of how far in anarchy the cabinet -would go; if it kept up with them, well and good; if it fell behind, -then let it take care. - -With Roland’s appointment, Madame Roland was at once put into a position -of responsibility and power. The Hôtel of the Interior, into which they -moved, was situated in the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs at the point -where the Rue Ventadour now opens. It was a fine building which had been -arranged elegantly by Calonne for the controller-general. In going into -this palace they did not give up their apartment in the Rue de la Harpe. -The other ministers settled themselves as if they were to remain for -life, but Madame Roland saw only the “luxury of an inn” in the gilded -hôtel, and kept her modest apartment on the Left Bank, a “retreat which -one must always have in mind as certain philosophers their coffins,” she -told Bancal. - -In no way were their habits changed by their new position. Roland was, -perhaps, even a little more severe than usual, and took virtuous delight -in appearing at Court with ribbons on his shoes instead of buckles, to -the horror of the courtiers. They called him a Quaker in Sunday dress, -with his white hair plastered down and sparsely powdered, his plain -black coat, above all his unadorned shoes. Madame Roland arranged her -life with strict regard for her notions of classic simplicity. She -neither made nor received visits, and never invited women to dinner. -Every Friday she had the members of the ministry; twice a week a mixed -company of ministers, deputies, and persons Roland wanted to see. Rarely -were there more than fifteen covers at table. One sat down at five -o’clock to a meal always simple, and at nine o’clock this puritan -household was closed. Of course, there was the theatre, with a _loge_ -for the minister, but it was not often that she left her duties for it. - -These duties were many; for the habit of working with Roland, of -copying, polishing, suggesting, begun the first year of her marriage, -over the dull pages of the encyclopædia and continued at Amiens and Le -Clos, was carried into the ministry of the interior. She went over the -daily mail with her husband. Together they noted the disorders in the -country, and together decided on the policy to pursue. She gave her -opinion on every subject, and exerted an influence on every question of -the ministry. This was in private. In her salon she was as quiet as in -the little salon of the Hôtel Britannique; nevertheless, she was always -the spirit of the gatherings; a skilful and gentle peacemaker in too hot -disputes; an inspiring advocate of the most radical undertakings; an -ardent defender of her own opinions. - -Many of the measures to be proposed in the Assembly by the Girondins -originated in her salon; much of Roland’s business with individuals was -talked over in her presence. It often happened that those who had -business with Roland came to her first with it. - -She was especially influential when it came to choosing persons for the -positions in the department which Roland controlled. She flattered -herself on her ability to tell a true patriot, and criticised and -praised candidates fearlessly. A minister of war was wanted soon after -Roland’s call to the cabinet. He thought of Servan, because the man had -exposed patriotic principles in a creditable book, because he had a -reputation for activity, because he had lost a court position on account -of civism, and above all because he declaimed bitterly against the -aristocrats. They wished to found a journal to represent their party, -and wanted a man “wise and enlightened” as editor. They decided on -Louvet, the author of the most licentious novel of the day, because of -his “noble forehead, the fire which animated his eye,” and the fine and -eloquent political pamphlets he had published. Because Pache had the -simplicity suitable to a republican and the manners of the ancients, -because he came to his office at seven o’clock in the morning and stayed -until three in the afternoon with only a morsel of bread brought in his -pocket for lunch, because he was prudent, attentive, zealous as a clerk, -he was thought fit to be a minister. - -They mistrusted all their colleagues who lacked these qualities. In the -ministry was General Dumouriez, a diplomat of skill, devoted to the -constitution, skilful with men, wise with the King. He had come to see -the Rolands in the Rue de la Harpe with Brissot to announce to them the -call to the ministry. When he left, Madame Roland said to her husband: -“There is a man I have seen for the first time. He has a penetrating -mind, a false eye; perhaps it will be more necessary to suspect him than -anybody in the world. He has expressed great satisfaction with the -patriotic choice he has been charged to announce, but I should not be -astonished if one day he caused you to be dismissed.” - -She mistrusted Dumouriez at once because of his courtly manners, and his -belief that the King was sincere in his efforts to support the -constitution. There was so great a difference between him and Roland -that she could not imagine the two working together. In the one she saw -“uprightness and frankness personified, severe equity without any of the -devices of the courtier or of the society-man.” In the other she -believed she recognized “an intelligent _roué_, a bold knight, who -sneered at everything except his own interests and his own glory.” - -She did not change her idea of Dumouriez, although obliged to confess -that he had more _esprit_ than any one else in the ministry, that he was -“diligent and brave,” “a good general, a skilful courtier, writing well, -capable of great enterprises,” but his “manners!” they were fit only for -the ministerial intrigues of a corrupt court. - -Her suspicions extended to all his friends. “All these fine fellows,” -she said to a friend one day _à propos_ of Dumouriez’s followers, “seem -poor patriots to me. They care too much for themselves to prefer the -public good to their own interests. I can never resist the temptation to -wound their self-sufficiency by pretending not to see the merit of which -they are vainest.” - -As for the good faith of the King, she would not listen to the idea. -During the first three weeks of the ministry of Roland, he and Clavière -were disposed to think well of the King, to have confidence in the turn -things were going to take. But she would tell them when they started out -confidently to the Council meetings: “When I see you go off in that way, -it always seems to me that you are going to commit a _sottise_.” And -when they came back with less done than she expected she declared the -Council was “nothing but a café.” “It is disgraceful. You are in good -humor because you experience no annoyance, even because you are well -treated. You have the air of doing about what you wish in your -departments. I fear that you are being tricked.” When they reminded her -that nevertheless affairs were going well, she replied: “Yes, and time -is being lost.” - -At the moment that Roland was called to office the question of public -tranquillity was most serious. It was not alone in the cities that -riots, pillage, and bloodshed were of constant occurrence. The provinces -were in many places almost uninhabitable. Roland, to cure the disorders, -wrote circulars and put up posters. - -For example, in his own department, Rhone-et-Loire, the question of the -priests was causing more and more difficulty. The provocation came now -from one side, now from another. In certain parishes the constitutional -priests were supported by the municipality, in others the unsworn were -favored. In the midst of these dissensions, births, marriages, and -deaths often went unrecorded. Here a priest declaimed against the -constitution and incited the people not to pay their taxes, there the -National Guard and mayor combined to drive a disturber from the -community. In the district of Villefranche, the constitutional _clergé_ -of “the former province of Beaujolais” brought a long complaint to the -authorities: “The inhabitants of the mountains,” they wrote, “influenced -by fanaticism, are in a state of insurrection. They believe the churches -to be profaned by the mere presence of the sworn priests; during the -services they throw stones against the doors, interrupt the services, -insult the new curés in the midst of their duties, force the faithful to -desert the churches.... The presbyteries are no longer a safe asylum. -Those who inhabit them are forced to keep a guard; they cannot travel -alone without being attacked and exposed to the greatest dangers. There -is not one of them who has not been driven several times from his home. -New-born children are baptized by Non-conformists without the ceremonies -of the Church—the fanatical and barbarous mothers declare that they -would rather choke them than permit them to be baptized by the priests.” - -The religious difficulties were inflamed by the rash and suspicious -actions of the various parties, whose wisdom and diplomacy were annulled -by excessive party spirit. The whole department, in fact, was racked by -religious quarrels, bitter party spirit, fear of _émigrés’_ plots and -foreign invasion, hatred of the constitution and “patriots.” - -Roland had a formula for such a situation, and when the directory of -Rhone-et-Loire asked him for help to restore order, he sent it to them. - -“The present troubles which agitate your department at several points,” -he wrote them, April 18th, “seem to have their source in the diversity -of religious opinions. This diversity of opinion is the fruit of error, -and the error comes from ignorance. If, then, we enlighten men, we -deliver them from prejudices, and if the prejudices were destroyed, -peace would reign on the earth.... It is not by force of arms that one -teaches reason.... In the first place a well-organized state has only -enough troops to prevent invasions, to meet force by force, and to -enable all the citizens to enjoy all the benefits of their own -constitution. Second, internal order should be maintained by -instruction, by public opinion, and finally by the force of the National -Guards.... Elected by the people, you ought to have their confidence. -Your instruction ought to produce the greatest effect, and you ought to -be able through confidence and reason to form and direct public opinion. -These means, used energetically and wisely, are sure. Is there a rare -circumstance when they are too slow? You have all the public force of -your department; you can use it as it is necessary, and you ought to -direct it according to the circumstances. These are your means, sirs, -and you rest responsible before the nation and its representatives, -before the King and your constituency, for all the disorders that you do -not foresee and prevent.” - -One can imagine the feelings of a board of county directors harassed by -daily riots, by incessant quarrels, by threats and plots, on receiving -such a letter from the minister, charged with executing the laws -relative to the internal tranquillity of the State. The directory must -have been composed of men singularly devoid of humor, if even in their -grave situation they did not laugh at Roland’s application of -instruction to the Lyons street-fights. - -To a department which had asked him for troops to restore order, and -secure the free circulation of grain in its territory, he responded that -if it was necessary to use force they must take the National Guards, and -he added: “But must I counsel this step? So soon as one employs arms to -execute the laws, one not only proves that he has not known how to make -himself loved, but that he will never be able to do so. A constitution -which is enforced by the bayonet only, is not a constitution. Other -means are necessary to attach a free people to the laws that it has -made.... Instruct the administrations that you direct, and if they -deviate from the observation of the rules, use that sweetness which -commands so easily, that persuasion which leads to the repentance of a -fault often involuntary. It is so easy for a superior administration to -make itself agreeable to those that it has under its surveillance that, -in fact, I believe I might say it is always the fault of the former when -harmony is broken.” - -And he continued this doctrinal campaign throughout his ministry. For -all the riot-ridden country he had but one formula. And while the people -burnt châteaux, stoned priests, pillaged storehouses, waylaid and stole -grain, murdered nobles, he serenely preached how easily the difficulty -could be ended by applying the dogma. And he believed it with the -incomparable naïveté of the theorist. If some one called his attention -to the fact that the disorders increased in spite of his preaching, he -was unmoved; that was the fault of the “stick in the wheel.” He was not -dissatisfied that disorder should increase. It would show the need for a -new shock. - -Armed with his formulas, his forty years of service, and his “virtue,” -Roland could see no reason why he was not adequate to the situation, and -why he should not act as he saw best. The conviction of his own -sufficiency made him tactless with those who were, in his judgment, less -infallible than he. He assumed a pedagogic tone, a severe mien, a stiff, -patronizing air towards them. He read them lectures, posed before them -as impeccable. To men of experience, used to the world and to politics, -as convinced as Roland of their own sincere desire for the good of -France, and of the sufficiency of their own ideas, this attitude was -exasperating beyond expression. - -It was not long before Roland and Servan, who was charged with the -portfolio of war, began to regulate the King, “to kill him by -pin-pricks,” said Dumouriez. Madame Roland was responsible, to a large -extent, no doubt, for their unpatriotic and traitorous conduct. Servan -was as completely under her rule as Roland, and she had cured both of -them of the confidence and support they gave the King at the beginning -of their ministry, and convinced them of his intention to betray the -constitution and restore the old régime. To deserve their support he -should, she believed, withdraw the vetoes he had put to the measures -against priests and _émigrés_. - -From the beginning of the Gironde ministry matters had steadily grown -worse. In April war had been declared. It had opened badly for the -French and terror and suspicion were greater than ever in Paris. -Religious troubles flamed up all over the provinces, made more intense -by the fear of foreign invasion. As rumors ran, the army was not doing -its duty; the generals were traitors; the court party was plotting to -receive the Prussians, to massacre the patriots, and to overthrow the -constitution. To meet the perils which threatened, Madame Roland had two -measures: the proscription of the Non-conformist priests, and a camp of -twenty thousand soldiers, five from each canton of France, around Paris, -to guard the city from the attack of the foreigners. - -This latter plan she persuaded Servan to present to the Assembly on June -4th without the King knowing anything of his minister’s plans and -without any of the Council save Clavière and Roland being in the secret. -The measure was voted by the Assembly, but it made a noise in Paris. The -National Guards regarded it as a reflection on their patriotism and -capacity. The Feuillants raised a petition of eight thousand names -(largely of women and children, sneered the patriots), protesting -against the measure. At the Assembly and at the Jacobins the measure was -hotly discussed; in the club it was opposed by Robespierre, now in open -rupture with the Girondins, and almost daily attacked by Brissot in the -_Patriote français_. - -The King hesitated to sign the measure when it was presented to him. In -Madame Roland’s eyes this refusal was due to nothing but his disloyalty, -and she advised forcing him to a decision. She was, she says, in a kind -of “moral fever” at the moment, and felt the absolute necessity of some -kind of action which would determine the situation. In her judgment -Roland should withdraw from the ministry if the King did not sign the -measures. But she wished that if he withdrew everybody should know that -he did it because the King would not take his advice. - -In these circumstances Madame Roland proposed to Roland to send a letter -to Louis XVI., stating his opinions, urging the King to consent to the -proscription of the priests and the camp about Paris, and warning him -against the consequences of a refusal. She dashed off this letter in a -single sitting, in the passion of conviction and exaltation which -possessed her. - - “SIRE,—The present condition of France cannot long endure. The - violence of the crisis has reached the highest degree; it must be - terminated by a blow which ought to interest Your Majesty as much as - it concerns the whole Empire. - - “Honored by your confidence, and placed in a position where I owe - you the truth, I dare to speak it; it is an obligation that you - yourself have imposed upon me. - - “The French have adopted a constitution; there are those that are - discontented and rebellious because of it; the majority of the - nation wishes to maintain it, has sworn to defend it with its blood, - and has welcomed joyfully the war which promises to assure it. The - minority, however, sustained by its hopes, has united all its forces - to overthrow it. Hence this internal struggle against the laws, this - anarchy over which good citizens groan, and of which the wicked take - advantage to heap calumny on the new régime. Hence this discord - which has been excited everywhere, for nowhere is there - indifference. The triumph or the overthrow of the constitution is - desired; everywhere people are eager to sustain it or to change it. - I shall refrain from examining it, and consider simply what - circumstances demand; taking as impersonal attitude as possible, I - shall consider what we can expect and what it is best to do. - - “Your Majesty enjoyed great privileges which you believed belonged - to royalty. Brought up in the idea of preserving them, you could not - see them taken from you with pleasure; your desire to recover them - was as natural as your regret at seeing them destroyed. These - sentiments, natural to the human heart, must have entered into the - calculation of the enemies of the Revolution. They counted then on - secret favor, until such times as circumstances permitted open - protection. This disposition could not escape the nation itself, and - it has been driven to defiance. Your Majesty has been constantly - between two alternatives: yielding to your prejudices, to your - private preferences, or making sacrifices dictated by philosophy and - demanded by necessity; that is, either emboldening the rebels by - disturbing the nation; or quieting the nation by uniting with her. - Everything has its course, and this uncertainty must end soon. - - “Does Your Majesty ally yourself openly to-day with those who are - pretending to reform the constitution? Are you going generously to - devote yourself without reserve to its triumph? Such is the true - question, and the present state of things makes a solution - necessary. - - “As for the very metaphysical question, are the French ripe for - liberty, the discussion is of no importance here; it is not a - question of judging what we shall be in a century, but of seeing of - what the present generation is capable. - - “The Declaration of Rights has become a political gospel, and the - French Constitution, a religion for which the people are ready to - die. Already violence has sometimes supplanted the law. When the law - has not been sufficiently vigorous to meet the situation, the - citizens have taken things in their own hands. This is why the - property of the _émigrés_, or persons of their party, has been - exposed to pillage. This is why so many departments have been forced - to punish severely the priests whom public opinion had proscribed, - and who otherwise would have become its victims. - - “In the shock of interests, passion has controlled. The country is - not a word that the imagination amuses itself in embellishing; it is - a being for whom one makes sacrifices, to whom one becomes attached - according to the suffering that it causes, who has been created by - great effort, and raised up in the midst of disturbances, and who is - loved for what it has cost as well as for what it promises. Every - attack made upon it inflames enthusiasm for it. - - “To what point is this enthusiasm going to rise when the enemy’s - forces, united without, intrigue with those within to deal it the - most fatal blows? - -[Illustration: - - MADAME ROLAND. - - From a painting by an unknown artist in the Musée Carnavalet. -] - - “The excitement is extreme in all parts of the Empire; unless - confidence in the intentions of Your Majesty calm it, it will burst - forth in terrible fury. Such confidence can never be based on - professions; it must have facts. - - “It is evident to the French nation that the constitution will work; - that the government will have the necessary strength the moment that - Your Majesty sincerely desires the triumph of the constitution, - sustains the legislative corps with all your executive power, and - takes away every pretext for uneasiness from the people and every - hope from the discontented. - - “For example, two important decrees have been passed; both concern - the tranquillity and the safety of the State. A delay to sanction - them awakens defiance; if it is prolonged, it will cause discontent; - and, it is my duty to say it, in the present state of excitement - discontent may lead to the worst. - - “There is no longer time to hesitate; there is no longer any way of - temporizing. The Revolution has been accomplished in the minds of - the people; it will be finished at the price of blood if wisdom does - not forestall the evils that it is still possible to avoid. - - “I know that it is imagined that anything can be done by extreme - measures; but when force shall have been used to constrain the - Assembly, terror spread throughout Paris, and disunion and stupor in - the suburbs, the whole of France will rise in indignation, and, - throwing herself into a civil war, will develop that sombre energy - always so fatal to those who have provoked it. - - “The safety of the State and the happiness of Your Majesty are - intimately allied; no power can separate them; cruel anguish and - certain misfortune will surround your throne, if you yourself do not - found it on the constitution and if it is not strengthened by the - peace which it ought to bring us. - - “Thus the disposition of the popular mind, the course of events, the - reason of politics, the interest of Your Majesty, make it - indispensable that you unite with the legislative corps and carry - out the desire of the nation; that which principle shows to be a - duty, the present situation makes a necessity.... You have been - cruelly deceived, Sire, by those who have sought to separate you - from your people. It is by perpetually disturbing you that they have - driven you into a course of conduct which has caused alarm. Let the - people see that you are determined to carry out the constitution - upon which they feel that their happiness depends, and you will soon - become the object of their gratitude. - - “The conduct of the priests in many places, the pretext which - fanaticism has given the discontented, have led to a wise law - against these agitators. Will not Your Majesty give it your - sanction? Public peace demands it. The safety of the priests depends - upon it. If this law does not go into force, the departments will be - forced to substitute violent measures for it, as they are doing on - all sides; and the irritated people will make up for it by their - excesses. - - “The attempts of our enemies, the disturbances in the capital, the - great unrest which the conduct of your guard has excited, the - situation of Paris,—all make a camp in this neighborhood necessary. - This measure, whose wisdom and urgency are recognised by all good - citizens, is waiting for nothing but the sanction of Your Majesty. - Why is it that you delay when promptness would win all hearts? - Already the efforts of the staff of the National Guard of Paris - against this measure have awakened the suspicion that it was - inspired by superior influence; already the declamations of certain - demagogues awaken suspicions of their relations with those - interested in overthrowing the constitution; already the intentions - of Your Majesty are compromised; a little more delay, and the people - will see in their King the friend and the accomplice of the - conspirators! - - “Just Heaven! have you struck the powers of the earth with - blindness? will they never have other counsels than those which - bring about their ruin? - - “I know that the austere language of virtue is rarely welcomed by - the throne; I know also that it is because it is so rarely heard - there, that revolutions are necessary; I know above all that it is - my duty to use it to Your Majesty, not only as a citizen, obedient - to law, but as a minister honored by your confidence and fulfilling - the functions which it supposes; and I know nothing which can - prevent me from fulfilling a duty which is on my conscience. - - “It is in the same spirit that I repeat what I have already said to - Your Majesty on the obligation and the utility of carrying out the - law which provides for a secretary in the Council. The simple - existence of this law speaks so powerfully that it seems as if its - execution would follow without delay; it is a matter of great - importance to employ all possible means to preserve in our - deliberations the necessary gravity, wisdom, and maturity; moreover, - for the ministers, some means of verifying their expressions is - necessary. If such existed, I should not be addressing myself in - writing at this moment to Your Majesty. - - “Life is nothing to the man who regards his duties as higher than - everything else; after the happiness of having fulfilled them, the - greatest good that he can know is that he has discharged them with - fidelity; and to do that is an obligation for the public man. - - (Signed.) ROLAND. - - “10 June, 1792. Year IV. of Liberty.” - -Roland sent this letter to the King on June 11th, although he had had -the idea of reading it to the Council the day before, but there was no -opportunity, so says Madame Roland in her Memoirs. According to -Dumouriez, the letter was sent earlier; for he relates that Roland read -the letter at the Council, and that when he had finished it the King -remarked with _sang-froid_: “M. Roland, it was three days ago that you -sent me your letter. It was useless to read it to the Council if it was -to remain a secret between us two.” - -This letter was the climax to the irritating policy which the Gironde -ministers had been pursuing with Louis, and he decided to dismiss them. - -Servan received his discharge first. “Congratulate me,” he cried when he -saw Madame Roland. “I have been put out.” - -“I am piqued,” she replied, “that you are the first to have that honor, -but I hope it will not be long before it is accorded to my husband.” It -was not, for on the 13th Roland followed Servan. He hurried home to tell -his wife. - -“There is only one thing to do,” she cried with vivacity: “it is to be -the first to announce it to the Assembly, sending along a copy of the -letter to the King.” - -The idea was put into effect at once. They were convinced that both -“usefulness and glory” would result. - -If this letter to the King began, as Dumouriez says, with a promise of -secrecy, then to send it to the Assembly was, considering the position -Roland occupied and the oath he had taken, a most disloyal act. But did -it begin so? Madame Roland does not speak of such a promise in her -Memoirs. The report of the letter given in the _Moniteur_ contains no -such opening phrase, though naturally Roland would have cut it out in -sending the document to the Assembly. Many of the memoirs and newspapers -of the day, however, either quote the promise or assume that the letter -was private. - -Dumont, in writing of Madame Roland, says that the greatest reproach -that could be made upon her conduct during the Revolution was persuading -her husband to publish this letter, which commenced, according to him: -“Sire, this letter will never be known save to you and me.” - -Mathieu Dumas says in his _Souvenirs_ that it was confidential, and -declares that it was read in the Council in the presence of the King, -“although the minister had promised to keep it a secret between himself -and His Majesty.” Of the presentation to the Assembly he adds: “It was a -new violation of the secret that the minister had imposed upon himself. -After his retreat propriety made the obligation of secrecy much more -rigorous.” - -The _Guardian of the Constitution_ of June 16th called the letter -“criminal” and its reading sufficient cause for delivering Roland to the -public prosecutor. Among the pamphlets which the publication of the -letter called forth was an anonymous one, in which the author told the -minister that he was under the greater obligation to keep the secret, as -he had promised, because the letter was an attempt to regulate the -King’s private conduct and because it insinuated that His Majesty -intended to betray the constitution. - -The result Madame Roland had foreseen, followed the presentation of the -letter to the Assembly. The reading was interrupted frequently by -applause, and it was ordered printed and distributed throughout the -eighty-three departments. - -“Usefulness and glory” were attained. The Rolands were convinced that -the letter would enlighten France; that it would serve as the shock -necessary to start the movement which would crush the remnants of -monarchical authority. Madame Roland retired to the Rue de la Harpe more -jubilant than she had entered the Hôtel of the Interior. She had not -been proud of their appointment to the ministry; she was of their -dismissal. - -What she and her friends expected would follow the dismissal of the -Girondin ministers, was a popular uprising, forcing the King to -reinstate them. The disturbance did not come of itself, and they set -about to prepare one—the artificial and abortive riot of the 20th of -June. On this date fell the anniversary of the oath of the Tennis Court, -and the citizens of the faubourgs Saint Antoine and Saint Marcel had -asked permission to celebrate it by presenting petitions to the Assembly -and to the King, and planting a tree of liberty. In the effervescence of -public spirit such a demonstration might easily be turned into a riot, -and there was opposition to it from the authorities; however, the -Gironde succeeded in securing the permission. - -On the 20th, the petitioners assembled, a motley crowd of men, women, -and children, armed and carrying banners, and marched to the Assembly, -where they demanded admission. It was against the law, but Vergniaud and -Guadet contended that it should be granted. It was, and eight thousand -persons filed through the hall. - -From the Assembly they pressed to the palace of the King, broke down the -doors, invaded the rooms, surrounded Louis XVI., put the red cap on his -head, but they did not strike. There was no popular fury. There were -cries of _Sanction the decrees_, _Recall the patriotic ministers_, _Away -with the priests_, _Choose between Coblentz or Paris_, but there were no -blows. For the people, the affair was simply a species of Mardi-gras, -and when they were tired of gazing at the splendors of the palace and at -the poor King, who, fearless and patient, let them surge about him, they -retired. The King was still king, the decrees were not signed, the -ministers were not recalled. Said Prudhomme in his report of the day: -“Paris is in consternation, but it is at seeing that this day has not -had the effect that the friends of liberty promised themselves.” - -The reaction was terrific. Lafayette left his army and hurried to Paris -to protest before the Assembly and to demand measures against the -Jacobins. The Feuillants rallied their friends for a desperate effort. -The Court—openly contra-revolutionary now—worked with the _émigrés_ to -make a _coup_ which would sweep out entirely the new régime. - -The patriots were not idle. In their supreme last struggle, never did -Girondin eloquence and intrigue run higher. The open contra-revolutions -in Paris and the foreign enemies now each day nearer the city were -reasons enough for action. By a burst of magnificent eloquence Vergniaud -secured a vote from the Assembly that the country was in danger, and a -call upon France to enlist for its defence. A movement of superb -patriotism followed the declaration. Here was an unmistakable enemy. -Vague alarms were at an end. The foreigners were actually approaching -the capital, and anybody could understand that they were not wanted. The -irritated, harassed country opened its heart and poured out its -blood,—young and old, weak and strong, even women and girls, offered -themselves. - -But this was a movement against foreign invasion—not against the -remnants of monarchical authority. The result looked uncertain. -Consternation and despair seized the Rolands. They foresaw the triumph -of the Court, the hope of a republic lost, and they calculated on what -course the patriots ought to pursue if the _émigrés_ and their allies -reached Paris and combined with the Court to restore the old régime. - -Walking one day in the Champs-Élysées with Lanthenas, Roland met two -Southerners who were in Paris on a commission from their department. -Their names were Barbaroux and Rebecqui. Since the opening of the -Revolution they had been active in the cause of the patriots in -Marseilles, Arles, and Avignon. The overthrow of the Girondin ministry -had alarmed them. Roland’s letter to the King had inspired them with -warm admiration for his courage and patriotism. - -Like all the young blood of the country, they were planning action -against the dangers which threatened. Their plans were well advanced -when they met Lanthenas and Roland. The latter wished to discuss the -situation seriously with them, and the next day Barbaroux went to the -Rue de la Harpe. Madame Roland was with the ex-minister, and the three -were not long in understanding each other. Barbaroux soon won their -confidence by his enthusiasm and eloquence. He was young, but -twenty-five, and of a beauty that won him the name of Antinoüs from -Madame Roland. He was animated, too, by a fiery scorn of “tyrants,” -“courts,” and “kings,” as unbelieving as Madame Roland in the sincerity -of any party outside his own, profoundly convinced of his call to -reverse the monarchy, and already with a record of services rendered to -the Revolution. The Rolands found him “active, laborious, frank, and -brave,” and they opened their hearts to him on the means of saving -France. - -“Liberty is lost,” cried Roland, “if the plots of the courts are not -immediately checked. Lafayette is meditating treason in the North. The -army of the centre is disorganized, in want of munitions, and cannot -stand against the enemy. There is nothing to prevent the Austrians being -in Paris in six weeks. Have we worked for three years for the grandest -of revolutions only to see it overthrown in a day? If liberty dies in -France, it is forever lost to the rest of the world. All the hopes of -philosophy are deceived. The most cruel tyranny will reign upon the -earth. Let us prevent this disaster. Let us arm Paris and the -departments of the North. If they fail, let us carry the statue of -liberty to the South. Let us found somewhere a colony of independent -men.” - -His words were broken by sobs. Madame Roland and Barbaroux wept with -him. Rapidly then the young man sketched his plan. It was Roland’s own. -Arm Paris; if that failed, seize the South. - -A map was brought out and they traced the natural boundaries of the new -State. The Vosges, the Jura, the Loire, and a vast plain between -mountains and river divide France. The plain they would take for a camp; -the river and mountains could be easily defended. If this position was -lost, there was a second boundary; on the east, the Doubs, the Ain, the -Rhone; on the west, the Vienne, the Dordogne; in the centre, the rocks -and rivers of Limoges. Farther still was Auvergne, the mountains of -Velay, the Cévennes, the Alps, Toulon. “And if all these points were -forced, Corsica remained,—Corsica where Genovese and French had not been -able to naturalize tyranny.” - -As they traced the boundaries, they devised plans for fortifications and -for mobilizing the army, but they concluded their council by the -decision that a final effort must be made to save Paris. There must be -another revolt if possible; the King must be deposed and a convention -called which would give France entire a republic. Barbaroux was ready -with a plan to help bring this about and he left them, promising to -bring a battalion and two pieces of cannon from Marseilles. - -They understood that it was an insurrection that he meant to prepare, -but they did not hesitate. All the violence, excess, passion, fear of -Paris must be excited this time; there must not be another 20th of June; -the stick must come out of the wheel now or never; and indifferent to -the possibility that the passion they proposed to use might assert its -right to help rule if it helped create, confident in the sufficiency of -their theory and of themselves, they awaited the promised insurrection. - -But not all of their friends were so serene. Several members of the -party had begun to realize the force of the popular fury they had been -arousing. They began to feel nervous at the prospect in Paris of the -horde of Marseillais Barbaroux had called. The bloodthirstiness of the -Cordeliers clubs began to revolt them. They were forced to admit that -Marat’s journal was more influential than their own. They saw, too, a -threatening thing—hitherto the insurrectionary element had been more or -less chaotic, it was now well organized and it had at its head a man -whom they feared, Danton. What if the mob should refuse to retire after -the overthrow of the King? Would anarchy be an improvement on monarchy? -Would a _sans-culotte_ be a more enlightened administrator than an -aristocrat? - -Vergniaud, Guadet, and Gensonné tried to frighten Louis XVI. into -recalling the ministers by telling him how formidable the threatened -insurrection appeared to them to be, and by assuring him that it might -be avoided by restoring the Girondins. Brissot in the Assembly denounced -“the faction of regicides, which wishes to create a dictator and -establish a republic.” He declared that men who were working to -establish a republic on the debris of the constitution were worthy to be -“smitten by the sword of the law.” If the King was guilty he should not -be deposed in haste, but a commission should be appointed to investigate -the affair thoroughly. Pétion, who, as mayor, had aided in bringing -about the 20th of June, became frightened, and counselled calm. - -But this sudden change could effect nothing now. It was too late for the -Girondins to do anything but join with the Jacobins, making a pretence -to leadership, although already feeling it slipping from them. - -Towards the end of July the allied force summoned France to lay down her -arms. Suspicion was at its height. Excitement and disorder were -increased by the arrival of the Marseillais on July 30th. Either the -allies would reach Paris and save the Court, or Paris must lay hands on -the Court and go out and subdue the allies. There was no certainty of -which it would be. At heart every faction was fearful. The King, the -Court, Lafayette, the allies, the _émigrés_, the Feuillants, Girondins, -Jacobins, Cordeliers, faubourgs, all hesitated. Something was coming. -What was it? There is no period of the Revolution of such awful tension -as this,—the months between the fall of the Gironde ministry and the -10th of August. - -In this exciting period it was the party of insurrection which organized -most thoroughly and most intelligently. The leaders who had taken this -organization upon themselves were Barbaroux, Danton, Camille Desmoulins, -Santerre. They worked through municipal organizations, which, instituted -since the Revolution, were turbulent, impetuous, fierce; these were the -forty-eight sections into which Paris had been divided, and in nearly -all of which the officials were sympathizers with insurrectionary -methods of getting what they wanted. Under the influence of the cry the -_Country is in danger, Paris must act_, the sections had aroused the -people within their limits. During the first days of August, frequent -reunions were held in the Place de la Bastille, at which the most -alarming rumors of the treachery of the King and the approach of the -enemy were circulated. These sections sent deputations to the Assembly -with incendiary addresses. They patrolled the Tuileries lest the -_executive power escape_, they said in unintentional irony. They -fraternized with the Marseillais, over whom the enthusiasm in -revolutionary circles was constant. They swore repeatedly in their -gatherings to save the country. - -By the 9th of August, the populace was in a tumult of alarm and of -exaltation. They were persuaded that they were the providence of France, -and they believed every man who did not join them was a traitor. It had -taken a long time to work up the sections of Paris to the united effort -which Madame Roland had demanded from them in 1789, but it was done at -last, and they were as convinced of the falsity of everybody but -themselves, and of their own call to save the country, as ever Madame -Roland herself had been. - -The 9th of August the ferment was perfect, and the order was given for -sounding the tocsin. At that moment the sections decided that three -commissioners should be appointed in each quarter of Paris to unite with -the Commune, with full powers to devise prompt means of saving the -country. The insurrectionary force thus had a legal representation. This -representation received at the Hôtel de Ville by the regular municipal -council, on evening of August 9th, had before morning superseded it, and -was the governing force of Paris. It was a transfer of power, probably -with the acquiescence of the legal municipality, glad to escape from the -turmoil of things. The new body, to be known as the Commune, was -composed of men almost without exception unknown outside of their -neighborhoods, and there only for agitation and violence. - -While the new Commune was settling itself at the Hôtel de Ville, the -populace it represented was in motion. The force with which the Court -and constitutional party attempted to control the movement was -insufficient, and in part unreliable. In a few hours the leaders of the -opposing force had been disposed; Mandat, the commander of the National -Guards, had been murdered; Pétion had been “chained by ribbons to his -wife’s side”; Louis XVI. and his family had taken refuge in the -Assembly; the Swiss guards, who had attempted to defend the château, had -been ordered by the King to retire to their barracks, and had been -murdered as they went; the château had been invaded. - -The mob filled not only the Tuileries, but the _Manège_ where the -Assembly sat. That body, composed the 10th of August of Girondins and -Jacobins alone, the constitutionals absenting themselves, found itself -under the pressure of a new force,—the populace. They had worked for -fifty days to arouse it. They had allowed it to organize itself. They -had permitted it to do the work of the day. But what were they going to -do with it now? Could they use it? Was there not a possibility that it -may use them? In any case, the objects for which the insurrection had -been prepared must be attained and the suspension of Louis XVI. was -voted; the Gironde ministers, Roland, Servan, and Clavière, were -returned, Danton, Monge, and Lebrun being added to them. - -Madame Roland’s policy had been carried out to the letter; the united -sections had acted; the King was out of the way; the patriots were in -power. - - - - - IX - DISILLUSION - - -Madame Roland’s plan had carried. Since the beginning of the Revolution -she had urged it. In 1789 when she called for “two illustrious heads,” -for “the united sections and not the Palais Royal”; throughout 1790 in -her demands for “blood, since there is nothing else to whip you and make -you go”; in her incessant preaching of civil war; in her remonstrances -in 1791 against the seizure of Marat’s sheets, against the arrest of the -turbulent, against shutting the doors of the Assembly on those who -prevented it doing its work; in the Hôtel of the Interior scoffing at -Roland’s weakness in believing in the sincerity of Louis XVI.; in urging -Servan to present his plan for a camp of twenty thousand soldiers around -Paris without the King’s knowledge; in writing the letter to the King -and in pushing Roland to present it to the Assembly; in encouraging -Barbaroux in his preparations for the 10th of August,—she had preached -the necessity and the wholesomeness of insurrection. - -Throughout this period there is not a word to show that she hesitated -about the wisdom of her demand. She was convinced, and never wavered. It -was her conviction which held Roland. It was her inspiration that fired -the Gironde. Now that the force that she had evoked was organized, -logically she must unite with it. - -Roland began his ministry consistently enough. Within twelve hours after -his appointment he had changed every one in his bureaux suspected of -sympathy with the constitution. He wrote immediately to the departments -describing the Revolution and sending copies of “all the laws and all -the pieces relative to the great discoveries of the 10th of August,” and -lest the people should not hear of them, he urged the curés and -officials to read them aloud whenever they could secure a gathering of -people. - -Everywhere in the departments he upheld the Jacobin party. Thus at Lyons -where the directory of Rhone-et-Sâone had been continually at war with -the municipality because of its moderation, the former body was deposed -and the latter put into power with the compliment that in all cases it -had maintained peace and tranquillity in spite of the fanaticism of the -enemies of the Revolution. Chalier, who came to Paris to represent the -municipality,—Chalier, who believed that calm could only be obtained in -Lyons by filling the streets with “impure blood” and who led in the -horrible massacres of the city,—was, through Roland’s influence, sent -home “with honors.” - -Never was Roland’s energy greater. He worked twenty hours out of -twenty-four, and even his four hours of repose were often interrupted. -By the 20th of August he was able to present the Assembly with a report -on the condition of France. In all his work he was logically in harmony -with the Second Revolution. - -But Roland soon found himself hindered in his activity by an important -part of the insurrectionary force which had produced the 10th of -August,—the Commune of Paris. The commissioners who had been sent to the -Town Hall the night of the 9th, with orders from their sections to -devise means to save the country, had refused to go away; large numbers -of violent Jacobins had joined the body, among them Robespierre and -Marat. The regular municipality had disappeared. - -The Commune believed that there was more need of it now than ever. The -passions which had been excited to call it into being were more -violently agitated than ever. The body felt, and rightly, that only the -greatest vigilance would preserve what had been gained on the 10th of -August; for now, as never before, the aristocratic and constitutional -part of France was against the Jacobin element; now more than ever the -allied powers felt that it was the business of kings to reinstate Louis -XVI. The Commune understood the force against it, saw that only -audacious and intrepid action would conquer it, and went to work with -awful energy to “save the country.” - -The tocsin was set a-ringing: the conservative printing offices were -raided; passports were suspended; barriers were put up; those who had -protested against recent patriotic measures were declared unfit for -duty; the royal family was confined in the Temple; lists of “suspects” -were made out; houses were visited at night to surprise plots, seize -suspected persons, examine papers, and search for firearms; a criminal -court of commissioners from the sections was chosen; the guillotine was -set up in the Carrousel. So much for the interior. To meet the enemy -without they seized horses and ammunition, set up stands where -volunteers could be enrolled, put every able-bodied man in Paris under -marching orders. All of this with a speed, a resolution, a savage sort -of fury which terrified the aristocrats, inflamed the populace, rejoiced -Marat, and alarmed the Assembly. - -From the first Roland found himself in conflict with this new body. He -was the law now, and they were called to act above all law. They had a -reason, the same that he had held for many months,—the divine right of -taking things into your own hands and compelling people to be -regenerated according to your notion. But Roland had reached the point -where all the essentials in his scheme of regeneration had been -gained—the Commune had not. Suddenly he who had been the vigorous -champion of revolutions for removing sticks from government wheels, -found himself the “stick in the wheel.” If he demanded information of -the Commune, he did not receive it. If he complained of its -irregularities, he was called a traitor. If he called attention to the -law, he was ignored. All through August Roland and the Commune continued -to irritate and antagonize one another. - -There was one man through whom they might have been reconciled,—Danton, -he who, with Robespierre and Marat, formed the triumvirate of the new -party of Terror. Danton represented the insurrectionary idea in the -ministry and it was through him alone that Roland and the Gironde might -have worked with the Commune. - -But from the first Madame Roland would have nothing to do with Danton. -When it was announced to her that he had been chosen to the ministry, -she told her friends: “It is a great pity that the Council should be -spoiled by this Danton, who has so bad a reputation.” They told her that -he had been useful to the Revolution; that the people loved him; that it -was no time to make enemies; that he must be used as he was. She could -do nothing to keep him out, but she was not convinced of the wisdom of -the choice. - -He sought her at once; for after the suspension of the King, Danton -never ceased to repeat that the safety of France lay in union,—in an -effort of all parties against the foreign invaders. “The enemy is at our -door and we rend one another. Will all our quarrels kill a Prussian?” -was his incessant warning. Few days passed that he did not drop into the -Hôtel of the Interior; now it was for the Council meeting, to which he -came early, hunting her up in her little salon for a chat before the -meeting began: again he dropped in on the days she was unaccustomed to -receive, begging a cup of tea before he went to the Assembly. Fabre -d’Eglantine often accompanied him. It was not a warm welcome they -received. They talked to her of patriotism, and she replied in a tone of -superiority and with a tinge of suspicion which was evident enough to -Danton and his colleague and could not fail to irritate them. She gave -them to understand that she saw through them, that she felt herself -incorruptible, and that no consideration would induce her to unite with -an element she suspected. - -Danton soon realized her inflexibility and before the end of August he -had ceased his visits. Madame Roland had refused the only mediator -between Gironde and Mountain, and in so doing had lighted another -interior blaze. She was too intelligent a woman for one to suppose that -she did not see the danger in further disunion. Why then for the -Republic’s sake, for humanity’s sake, did she not unite with him? - -The only reason she gives is the physical repugnance that Danton -inspired in her. She confessed that no one could have shown more zeal, a -greater love of liberty, a livelier desire to come to an understanding -for the sake of the public cause, than he. Certainly she had based her -judgments thus far in the Revolution on such indications, but Danton was -of a different nature from the men who surrounded her. A volcanic animal -tremendous in passions as in energy, in intellect, in influence. She -says that never did a face seem to her to show brutal passion so -perfectly. Her imagination had been awakened. All her life she had been -the plaything of this imagination, and every face that came under her -eyes had been read, its owner’s character analyzed and his rôle in life -assigned. Danton she figured poniard in hand, exciting by voice and -gesture a troup of assassins more timid or less bloodthirsty than he. -She could not conquer the effect of this vision and for this reason she -refused his proffer of reconciliation. - -Had Danton offended her by some coarse familiarity? The best reason for -rejecting this explanation of her dislike is that she says nothing about -it. If an unwarranted gallantry had ever occurred, we may be positive -that she would not have kept it to herself. The “confessions” of her -Memoirs make such an interpretation impossible; even her friend -Lanthenas was not spared on this score. It is impossible to suppose that -Danton would have been. - -For the first time, Madame Roland found herself face to face with a man -who was an embodiment of the insurrectionary spirit. Hitherto that -spirit had been an ideal, a theory, an unseen but powerful force which -was necessary to accomplish what she wanted. Personally she had never -come in contact with it. She had idealized it as an avenging spirit, -“terrible but glorious,” cruel but just, awful but divine. That this -force had an end to reach, a personal ambition to satisfy, an ideal to -attain, that it might come into conflict with her, she had not -calculated. In her plan it was simply an avenging fire which she could -use, and which, when she had had enough of it, she could snuff out. - -But now she saw an insurrection as a bald fact. Danton was a positive, -living incarnation of her doctrine. Instead of rhapsodizing over the -“divine right of insurrection,” he organized the slums into brigades; -instead of talking about Utopia, he gave the populace pikes and showed -them how to use them. His policy was one of action. It was a fearful -bloody policy, but it was definite and practical, and a logical result -of what Madame Roland had been preaching. - -The revolt she experienced against Danton’s brutality made her unwilling -that the insurrectionary force should be longer recognized. She suddenly -became conservative, as the radical who has gotten what he wants always -must. She was jealous, too, for her party. They were the patriots, and -they must be the ruling element in the new government. It would be a -shame to share their power with so terrible a Hydra. It was but a little -time before Roland under her influence was at cross-purposes with Danton -in the Council. Roland was destined to run athwart a more relentless and -savage enemy than Danton could ever be,—Marat, _l’Ami du Peuple_; that -Marat the destruction of whose journal by the “satellites of Lafayette” -Madame Roland had complained of but a year ago. The most violent and -uncontrolled type of the Revolutionary fury, Marat had won his following -by his daring _l’Ami du Peuple_, where in turn he had bombarded every -personality of the Revolution who seemed to him to favor anything but -absolute equality, who worked to preserve any vestige of the old régime, -or who hesitated at any extreme of terrorism. In the spring of 1792, the -“Brissotine faction” had been his target. His complaint against it was -the making of the war. Roland he had practically ignored, for until now -Roland had been the defender of Marat’s methods. - -The 11th of August Marat had had his people carry off from the national -printing office four presses,—his due, he claimed, for those that the -old régime had confiscated. It was a bit of lawlessness that Roland felt -he should rebuke. It was a first point against the minister. Soon after -the Department of the Interior received a large amount of money for -printing useful matter. Marat considered his productions of the highest -importance to the country. He asked for fifteen thousand livres. Roland -replied wisely that it was too large a sum for him to give without -knowledge of the object to which it was to be put, but that if Marat -would send him his manuscripts he would submit them to a council to see -if they were suitable to be published at the expense of the nation. But -this was questioning the purity of Marat’s patriotism, submitting to -scrutiny the spokesman of the people, and Marat was angry. He felt, as -Roland had since the beginning of the Revolution, that the right to cry -out against all that he suspected, and to voice all the terrors that -swarmed in his head, was unlimited and divine. - -Thus Roland had antagonized the Commune, Danton, and Marat, before the -September massacres, but he had done nothing to show the public that he -would not support their policy. On the second day of the massacres, -however, acting on the advice of Madame Roland, he put himself in open -conflict with them. - -It was on the second day of September that the riot began. Revolted by -the barbarity of the slaughter, stung by the insult offered them in a -raid on their hôtel, half-conscious, too, that they must do something or -their power would slip from them, they determined on the 3d, that Roland -should protest to the Assembly against the massacre. But to protest was -to put himself in antagonism with the Commune, with Robespierre, Marat, -Danton. It was to make himself forever a suspect, to take his life in -his hand. But that was immaterial to Roland and to his wife. To die was -part of the Gironde programme, and they were all of them serenely -indifferent to death if they could only serve the public by dying. -Roland wrote a letter to the Assembly, which is an admirable specimen of -the way in which he applied theories to situations which needed arms and -soldiers—a letter of platitude and generalities. He called attention to -the danger of disorganization becoming a habit; explained where power -legally belonged, and what the duties of the people were in -circumstances like those they then faced. As for the massacre, he said: -“Yesterday was a day over whose events it is perhaps necessary to draw a -veil. I know that the people, terrible in vengeance, showed a kind of -justice. They do not seize as victims all who fall in their way. They -take those whom they believe to have been too long spared by the law, -and whom they are persuaded in the peril of the moment should be -sacrificed without delay. But I know that it is easy for agitators and -traitors to abuse this effervescence, and that it must be stopped. I -know that we owe to all France the declaration that the executive power -was unable to foresee and prevent these excesses. I know that it is the -duty of the authorities to put a stop to them or to consider themselves -crushed. I know, further, that this declaration exposes me to the rage -of certain agitators. Very well, let them take my life. I desire to save -it only to use it for liberty, for equality.” - -These were bold words considering the situation. They were an open -defiance to the Mountain. They showed that the Minister of the Interior, -hitherto the enemy of the party of Order, had put himself at the head of -that party; that he had suddenly determined that he was going to snuff -out the candle he had gone to so much pains to light. He did not -consider it a serious task. It was only a question of appealing to the -people. “The docile people at the voice of their legislators will soon -feel that they must honor their own work and obey their -representatives.” - -The next day, September 4th, Roland wrote to the commander general of -the National Guard, Santerre, to employ all the forces that the law gave -him to prevent that either persons or property be violated. He sent him -a copy of the law and declared that he threw the responsibility of all -future disorder on Santerre. It was fully two days after this however, -before the massacre was stopped. - -Before the end the revolt of the Rolands was complete and terrible. -They, with the Gironde, were, indeed, very much in the position of -keepers of wild beasts, who, to clear their gardens of troublesome -visitors, let loose the animals. The intruders are driven out, but when -they would whistle in their beasts they find themselves obliged to flee -or to be torn in pieces in turn. “We are under the knife of Robespierre -and Marat,” Madame Roland wrote on the 5th of September, and a few days -later: - -“Marat posts every day the most frightful denunciations against the -Assembly and the Council. You will see both sacrificed. You will believe -that is possible only when you see it done, and then you will groan in -vain over it. My _friend_ Danton directs everything, Robespierre is his -mannikin, Marat holds his torch and his knife; this fierce tribune -reigns and we are only waiting to become its victims. If you knew the -frightful details of this affair,—women brutally violated before being -torn to pieces by these tigers, intestines cut off and worn as ribbons, -bleeding human flesh eaten.... You know my enthusiasm for the -Revolution. Well, I am ashamed of it. It is stained by these wretches. -It is become hideous. It is debasing to remain in office.” - -She had begun to experience one of the saddest disillusions of life,—the -loss of faith in her own undertaking, to see that the thing she had -worked to create was a monster, that it must be throttled, that it was -too horrible to live. - -The massacre was scarcely ended before Marat attacked Roland. He called -him a traitor trying to paralyze the means necessary to save the -country; his letter to the Assembly he stigmatized as a _chef-d’œuvre_ -of cunning and perfidy; he accused him of securing the nomination of as -many Brissotins as possible, of scattering gold by the handful to secure -what he wanted; again it was “opium” he was scattering to hide his -conspiracy with the traitors of the National Assembly. Madame Roland was -immediately brought to the front in Marat’s journal, he giving her the -credit of her husband’s administration. - -“Roland,” he says, “is only a _frère coupe-choux_ that his wife leads by -the ears. It is she who is the Minister of the Interior under the -direction of _L’Illuminé L’Anténas_, secret agent of the Guadet-Brissot -faction.” In the same number of his journal there is an article under -the heading “Bon mot à la femme Roland,” where she is accused of -squandering national funds and of having Marat’s posters pulled down. - -The quarrels between the various factions of the republicans were so -serious before the end of September that the best men of all parties saw -the imperative need of sacrificing all differences and antagonisms, in -order to combine solidly against the enemies of the new régime. - -Roland made overtures to Dumouriez, then at the head of the army, and -was welcomed. Danton did his best to persuade the Girondins to forget -the September massacres, and turn all their attention to protecting the -country. A portion of the party was ready to compromise, but others -refused; they were the circle about Madame Roland. Dumouriez, who came -to Paris after the important victory of Valmy in September, did his best -to reconcile her. In his judgment, “there was but one man who could -support the Gironde, save the King and his country,—that man was -Danton,” but he was unsuccessful in spite of his diplomacy. - -The experiences of September, the desperate condition of affairs, the -need of concentrating the entire force of the nation against the -invaders, the disorganization which was increasing on account of the -dissension among the patriots, the impotence of Roland, the power of the -Commune,—all seemed calculated to force Madame Roland to compromise with -the insurrectionary force as represented by Danton. That she would not -see the necessity of it, that she, so intelligent when she was -unprejudiced, so good a politician when she undertook a cause, should -refuse the only relation which could have enabled the Gironde to keep -the direction of the new government, was no doubt due partly to the fact -that she was at this time under the influence of the deepest passion of -her life. - -A woman in love is never a good politician. The sentiment she -experiences lifts her above all ordinary considerations. All relations -seem petty beside the supreme union which she desires. The object of her -passion becomes the standard for her feelings towards others. She is -revolted by natures which are in opposition to the one which is stirring -hers. The sentiments, the opinions, the course of action of her lover, -become personal matters with her. She is incapable of judging them -objectively. She defends them with the instinctive passion of the -animal, because they are _hers_. Intelligence has little or nothing to -do with this defence. Even if she be a cool-headed woman with a large -sense of humor and see that her championship is illogical, she cannot -give it up. - -[Illustration: - - Engraving of Buzot by Nargeot, after the portrait worn by Madame - Roland during her captivity. -] - -Madame Roland’s antipathy to Danton was intensified by her love for a -man who was in every way his opposite. The reserved, cold dignity of the -one made her despise the tempestuous oratory of the other. His ideals -and theories made Danton’s acts and riots more odious. His refinement -and melancholy put in insupportable contrast the brutality and joviality -of the great Commune leader. She could not see Danton’s importance to -the success of the Second Revolution, when absorbed in a personality so -different. All political tactics and compromises seemed to her -insignificant, trivial, unworthy in connection with her great passion. -Undoubtedly, too, she hoped to see her lover take a position in the new -legislature,—the Convention,—of which he was a member, which would make -the Gironde so strong that it would not need Danton. - - - - - X - BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND - - -In the spring and summer of 1791, which the Rolands spent at the Hôtel -Britannique, they formed many relations which lasted throughout the -Revolution. In this number was a member of the Constitutional Assembly, -François-Nicolas-Léonard Buzot, a young man thirty-one years of age, -coming from Evreux, in Normandy. Buzot had had the typical Gironde -education, had been inspired by the Gironde heroes, and had adopted -their theories. - -Like Manon Phlipon at Paris, Vergniaud at Bordeaux, Barbaroux at -Marseilles, Charlotte Corday at Caen, Buzot had lived an intensely -sentimental life, nourishing himself on dreams of noble deeds and -relations; like them, he had become devoted to a theory of complete -regeneration; and like them, he had proudly flung himself into the -Revolution, aspiring, inexperienced, impassioned, and confident. - -Son of a member of the court of Evreux, Buzot became a lawyer in that -town, and took an active interest with the liberal and enlightened part -of the community in the political struggles of the Revolution. When the -notables were called together in 1787, he was elected one of them. He -aided in naming the deputies to the States-General, in preparing the -petition which the Third Estate sent to that body, and later was elected -a deputy. But his real political cares began in the Constituent -Assembly, where he sat with the extreme Left. His attitude towards the -confiscation of the property of the clergy is a specimen of his -radicalism at this period. “In my judgment,” he declared, -“ecclesiastical property belongs to the nation,” and this was at a -moment when the right of the clergy to hold property had not been -seriously questioned. - -When the Rolands came up to Paris in the spring of 1791, they found -Buzot allied with that part of the Assembly most sympathetic to them and -he supported, during the time they spent in the city, the measures which -they advocated. - -He lived near the Rolands, and soon became a constant visitor at the -house. His wife, an unattractive woman of no special intellectual cast, -was nevertheless amiable and sincere and the four fell into the habit of -visiting back and forth and of often going in company to call on Pétion -and Brissot. - -Madame Roland was more and more attracted by Buzot’s character as she -watched him in the little circle. He not only held the same theories as -she, but he developed them with ardor and a sort of penetrating and -persuasive eloquence which stirred her sympathetic, oratory-loving -nature. His courage was endless, and it was combined with a pride and -indifference to popular opinion, which harmonized with her notion that -the ideal was to be kept in sight rather than the practical means of -working towards it. His suspicion of others, even of some of their -associates, based as it was on sentiments of patriotism, struck her as -an evidence of unusual insight. - -Buzot had less of that gay versatility which annoyed her in many of her -circle, and which seemed to her inconsistent with the serious condition -of public affairs. His nature was grave and he looked at life with a -passionate earnestness which gave a permanent shade of melancholy to his -conduct and his thoughts. In affairs of great importance he became -tragic in his solemn concern. In lighter matters he was rather sober and -reflective. It was an attitude towards life which appealed deeply to -Madame Roland. - -The gentleness of Buzot’s character, the purity of his life, his -susceptibility to sentiment, the strength of his feelings, his love for -nature, his habit of revery, all touched her imagination and caused her -to select him from the circle at the Hôtel Britannique as one possessing -an especially just and sympathetic nature. - -When she left Paris, in the middle of September, 1791, she found the -parting with Buzot and his wife most trying. She was more deeply -attached to them than she knew. But if the two families were to be -separated, they were not to lose sight of each other. A correspondence -was arranged between them, which soon fell quite into the hands of -Madame Roland and Buzot, as the correspondence had done before between -the Rolands and other of their friends. Almost nothing remains of the -letters exchanged between them from the middle of September, 1791, when -she returned to Villefranche, and September, 1792, when Buzot went back -to Paris, a member of the Convention from Evreux, where he had been -acting as president of the civil court. - -But it is not necessary to have the letters to form a clear idea of what -they would be. Letters had always been a means of sentimental expansion -for Madame Roland. She wrote, as she felt, invariably in the eloquent -and glowing phrase which her emotion awakened; now with pathos and -longing, frequently with the real grace and playfulness which her more -spontaneous and natural moods caused. Her letters were invariably deeply -personal. It was her own life and feelings which permeated them, and it -was the sentiments, the interests, the tastes of her correspondent, -which she sought to draw out and to which she responded. An intimate and -sympathetic correspondence of this sort, even if the pretext for it and -the present topic of it is public affairs, as it was in this case, soon -takes a large part in a life. Close exchange of thought and sentiment, -complete and satisfactory, is, perhaps, the finest and truest, as it is -the rarest, experience possible between a man and a woman. When once -realized, it becomes infinitely precious. Madame Roland and Buzot poured -out to each other all their ambitions and dreams, their joys and their -sorrows, sure of perfect understanding. At this time the thoughts which -filled their minds were one, their emotions were one; both relied more -and more upon the correspondence for stimulus. - -To Buzot, harassed by petty criminal trials, and married to a woman who, -whatever her worth, could never be more to him than his housekeeper and -the mother of his children, this intimacy of thought, and hope, and -despair appeared like a realization of the perfect Platonic dream, and -Madame Roland became a sacred and glorified figure in his imagination. - -But if a man and woman carry on such a correspondence for a few months -and then are suddenly thrown into constant intercourse, their relation -becomes at once infinitely delicate. It is only experience, wisdom, -womanly tact, and an enormous force of self-renunciation which can -control such a situation and save the friendship. - -When Buzot and Madame Roland first met at the end of September, 1792, -she was ill prepared for resistance. The Revolution had suddenly -appeared to her fierce, bloody, desperate,—a thing to disown. She could -no longer see in it the divinity she had been worshipping. Her -disillusion had been terrible. The impotence and languor which follow -disillusion enfeebled her will, weakened her splendid enthusiasm, and -threatened to drive her to the conclusion that all effort is worthless. - -It must have been already evident to her that the men upon whom she -relied as leaders were inefficient. Roland, who had been the idol of the -people until since the installation of the Commune, was utterly -powerless to cope with the new force. She saw him reduced to defending -his actions, to answering criticisms on his honesty; she felt that he -was no longer necessary to the public cause; it was a humiliation to -her, and her interest in Roland lessened as his importance decreased. -Brissot had no influence; with a part of the Gironde, Vergniaud, -Gensonné, Guadet, she was not intimate; Robespierre was alienated; -Danton she had refused to work with. But in Buzot there was hope. He had -no record at Paris to hurt him. There were infinite possibilities in his -position in the new Convention. Why should he not become the leader of -the party, the spirit of the war between Gironde and Mountain, the -opponent of Danton, the incarnation of her ideals? The hope she had in -him as her spokesman, as a saviour of the situation, intensified the -interest she felt for him as a friend and comrade. - -Personally, too, apart from all public questions, Buzot attracted her. -His noble face, elegant manners, careful toilette, pleased her. She was -a woman to the tips of her fingers, and Buzot’s courtly air, his -deference to her, his attentions, flattered and satisfied her. She found -in him something of that “superiority,” that “purity of language,” that -“distinguished manner,” the absence of which she had regretted in the -patriots of the Constituent Assembly when she first came up to Paris. He -presented, too, a relief to Roland’s carelessness in dress, to his -indifference to conventionalities. This superiority was the more -attractive because it was in a man so young. Buzot’s youth explains -something of the ideality of the relation between them. A woman who -preserves her illusions, her enthusiasms, her sentiments, as Madame -Roland had, up to thirty-eight, rarely finds in a man much older than -herself the faith, the disinterestedness, the devotion to ideals, the -purity of life and thought which she demands. She is continually shocked -by his cynicism, his experience, his impersonal attitude, his -indifference. Life with him becomes practical and commonplace. It lacks -in hours of self-revelation, in an intimacy of all that she feels deep -and inspiring; there is no mystery in it—nothing of the unseen. But with -a young man of a character and nature like Buzot, she finds a response -to her noblest moods, her most elevated thoughts. - -A young man sees in a relation with a woman of such an elevation of -thought as Madame Roland the type of his dreams, the woman to whom -sentiments and ideals are of far more importance than amusement and -pleasure—the woman capable of great self-sacrifice for duty, of untiring -action for a noble cause, of comprehension of all that is best in him, -of brave resistance to temptation—and yet a woman to the last, dainty in -her love of beauty, flattered by his homage, untiring in her efforts to -please him, capable of a passion wide as the world. - -Buzot’s relation to Madame Roland must have been the dearer to her -because at the moment the intimacy which she had had with several of her -friends was waning. With Roland working twenty hours out of the -twenty-four, tormented by false accusations, conscious of his -helplessness, irritated by dyspepsia and over-work, there could have -been very little satisfactory personal intercourse. Their relation had -come to the point to which every intimate human relation must come, -where forbearance, charity, a bit of humorous cynicism, courage, -self-sacrifice, character, and nobility of heart must sustain it instead -of dreams, transports, passion. She was incapable of the effort. - -Bosc was an old friend and a loving one, but their friendship had -reached the stage where all has been said that could be, and while there -was the security and satisfaction in it which comes from all things to -which one is accustomed,—and it was necessary to her no doubt,—there was -no novelty, no possible future. - -Bancal was interested in a Miss Williams, and since he had made that -known to Madame Roland, she had been less expansive. No woman will long -give her best to a man who holds another woman dearer. - -Lanthenas, who had been for years their friend, to whom she had given -the title of “brother” and received in a free and frank intimacy, had -begun to withdraw his sympathy. - -When Buzot came to Paris, it was natural and inevitable that they should -see much of each other. All things considered, it was natural, -inevitable, perhaps, that love should come from their intimacy; but that -Madame Roland should have prevented the declaration of this love we have -a right to expect when we remember her opinions, her habit of -reflection, and, above all, her experience. - -Madame Roland had never accepted, other than theoretically, the idea -which at the end of the eighteenth century made hosts of advocates,—that -love is its own justification; that any civil or religious tie which -prevents one following the dictates of his heart is unnatural and wrong. -Nor did she accept for herself the practice then common in France, as it -is still, and as it must be so long as marriage remains a matter of -business, of keeping marriage ties for the sake of society, but of -finding satisfaction for the affections in _liaisons_ of which nobody -complains so long as they are _discreet_, to use the French -characterization. Her notions of duty, of devotion, of loyalty, were -those of the _Nouvelle Héloïse_ and allowed only marriage based on -affection and preserved with fidelity to the end. Her theory of life and -human relations would not allow her to be false to Roland. With such -opinions she could not allow Buzot to declare the affection he felt. - -Had she been an inexperienced woman, such a declaration might have come -naturally enough without any reproach for her; she would have been -unprepared for it. Madame Roland was not inexperienced. She knew all the -probability there was of Buzot loving her and she was too skilled in the -human heart to believe herself incapable of a new love. - -Already she had been absorbed by passions whose realization at the -moment had seemed necessary to her life. Her Platonic affection for -Sophie Cannet was of an intensity rarely equalled by the most ardent -love. For La Blancherie she had been ready to say that if she could not -marry him she would marry no one. Roland, before their marriage, she had -overwhelmed by her passion, and since she had followed him incessantly -with protestations of affection. Certainly she knew by this time that -impassioned love may grow cool and that the heart may recover its fire -and vehemence. - -Nor had all her experience been before her marriage. She had not the -excuse of those married women who suppose, in the simplicity of their -innocence and purity, that once married there is no deviation of -affection or loyalty possible, and who, when circumstances throw them -into relations where a new passion is awakened, are overpowered by shame -and surprise. - -Her relations with different ones of her friends after her marriage had -reached points which ought to have taught her serious lessons in -self-repression and in tact. Bosc, with whom she was in correspondence -from the time the Rolands left Paris for Amiens, became deeply attached -to her. Their relation seems to have become more tender during the time -that she spent in Paris seeking a title, and this quite naturally -because of the loss Bosc suffered then in the death of his father, and -because of the very practical aid she had given him in taking care of -his sister. Their correspondence, which, while she was at Amiens, was -gay and unrestrained, an ideal correspondence for two good friends and -comrades, later grew more delicate. Bosc was jealous and moody at times -and caused her uneasiness and sorrow. When they passed through Paris, on -their way to Villefranche, in September, 1784, he found at their meeting -some reason for discontent in their relation with a person he disliked, -and left them abruptly and angrily. - -The quarrel lasted some two months and was dismissed finally with good -sense by Madame Roland telling Bosc playfully, “Receive a sound boxing, -a hearty embrace, friendly and sincere—I am hungry for an old-fashioned -letter from you. Burn this and let us talk no more of our troubles.” - -After this whenever Bosc became too ardent in his letters, or inclined -to jealousy, she treated him in this half-playful, half-matronly style. -Her principle with him remained from the first to the last that there -could be between them no ignorance of the question of their duty. - -The experience with Bosc had taught her the strong probability that a -man admitted to such intimate relations would, at some period in the -friendship, fall more or less in love; and it had shown her, too, that -it is possible for a woman to control this delicate relation and insure -a healthy and inspiring relation. In short, Madame Roland had reason to -congratulate herself, as she did with her usual self-complacency, on her -wisdom and her tact in handling _l’ami_ Bosc. Whether she would not have -been less wise if she had been less in love with her husband, or Bosc -had been of a different nature, a little less dry and choleric, it is -not necessary to speculate here. - -She was quite as happy in directing her relations with Dr. Lanthenas, -whom it will be remembered Roland had picked up in Italy before their -marriage, who had come back with him, who had visited them often at -Amiens, and who had lived with them at Le Clos, where an apartment on -the first floor is still called Lanthenas’ room. He was associated in -all their planning, and in 1790, when Roland, disgusted with the turn -politics had taken, sighed for Pennsylvania, Lanthenas suggested that -the Rolands, and one of his friends at Paris, Bancal des Issarts, and he -himself should buy a piece of national property—the State had just -confiscated some millions’ worth of clerical estates and was selling -them cheap—and should establish together a community where they could -not fail to lead an existence ideal in its peace, its enthusiasm, its -growth. - -This Utopia was discussed at length in their letters, and several pieces -of property near Lyons and Clermont, where Bancal lived, were visited. -Roland was thoroughly taken with the idea, but Madame Roland, while she -saw all the advantages, discovered a possible danger. If she had been -able to resist the siege to her heart by Bosc and Lanthenas, even to win -them over as allies, her relation with Bancal des Issarts had taken -almost immediately a turn more serious for her. She was herself touched -and interested, and her policy when she felt her heart moved was most -questionable. Instead of concealing her feelings and mastering them, she -poured them out to Bancal himself in a way to excite his sympathy and to -inflame his passion. Indeed, the turn their correspondence took in a few -months reminds one forcibly of the letters of Manon Phlipon to M. Roland -in the days when, feeling herself moved by his attentions, she drew a -declaration out of him by portraying a state of heart which no man who -was as decidedly interested as Roland was, could resist. - -It was the new community which troubled her. Bancal had shown himself so -eager for it, she herself saw such a charm in it, that she became -alarmed. To a letter of Bancal’s, which we can suppose to have been -fervid, but which was not so much so that Roland was annoyed by it, it -being he who had received it and sent it on to her, she replied: “My -mind is busy with a thousand ideas, agitated by tumultuous sentiments. -Why is it that my eyes are blinded by constant tears? My will is firm, -my heart is pure, and yet I am not tranquil. ‘It will be the greatest -charm of our life and we shall be useful to our fellows,’ you say of the -affection which unites us, and these consoling words have not restored -my peace. I am not sure of your happiness and I should never forgive -myself for having disturbed it. I have believed that you were feeding it -on a hope that I ought to forbid. Who can foresee the effect of violent -agitations, too often renewed? Would they not be dangerous if they left -only that languor which weakens the moral being and which makes it -unequal to the situation? I am wrong. You do not experience this -unworthy alternative, you could never be weak. The idea of your strength -brings back mine. I shall know how to enjoy the happiness that Heaven -has allotted me, believing that it has not allowed me to trouble you.” - -She was quite conscious of her inconsistency, but with the feminine -propensity for finding an excuse for an indiscretion, she charged it on -the construction of society,—a construction which, it should be noted, -she had years ago convinced herself to be necessary, and which she had -repeatedly accepted, so that there was not the excuse for her that there -is for those who have never reflected that human laws and codes of -morals are simply the best possible arrangement thus far found for men -and women getting on together without a return to the savage state, and -have never made a tacit compact with themselves to be law-abiding -because they saw the reason for being so. - -“Why is it,” she writes, “that this sheet that I am writing you cannot -be sent to you openly? Why can one not show to all that which one would -dare offer to Divinity itself? Assuredly I can call upon Heaven, and -take it as a witness of my vow and of my intentions; I find pleasure in -thinking that it sees me, hears me, and judges me.... When shall we see -each other again? Question that I ask myself often, and that I dare not -answer.” - -Bancal went to Le Clos, and evidently, from passages in their subsequent -letters, there passed between them some scene of passion. - -Later, Bancal went to London to propagate the ideas of the patriots, but -Lanthenas and Roland became anxious that he return to Paris to help them -there. Madame Roland dared not advise him to return, though she could -not conceal her pleasure at the idea that he might, and that, too, after -she was again at Paris. - -“Do as you think best,” she wrote; “at any rate I shall not have the -false delicacy to conceal from you that I am going to Paris, and shall -even push my frankness to confessing that this circumstance adds much -to my scruples in writing you to return. There is, in this situation, -an infinite number of things which one feels but cannot explain, but -that which is very clear, and which I say frankly to you, is that I -wish never to see you bend to light considerations or to half -affections. Remember that if I need the happiness of my friends this -happiness is attached, for those who feel like us, to an absolute -_irreproachability_.” - -[Illustration: - - Inscription written by Madame Roland on the back of the portrait of - Buzot which she carried while in prison. -] - -It was by this constant return to the subject that she kept the relation -between herself and Bancal “interesting.” It was by holding up her -duty—the necessity of “virtue”—that she provoked him. It was the -“coquetry of virtue” which Dumouriez found in her. - -But when Madame Roland went up to Paris she found other interests, new -friends. Bancal received less attention, and he, occupied in making new -friends, gave less attention; gradually the personal tone dropped from -their letters, and by the fall of 1792 the correspondence had become -purely patriotic. The friendship became of still less moment to Madame -Roland when Bancal revealed to her his love for Miss Williams, a young -English girl who had been attracted to Paris by the Revolution, and -there had become associated with the Girondins. - -The affair with Bancal des Issarts proves Madame Roland to have had no -more discretion than an ordinary woman when her heart was engaged, and -drives one to the reluctant conclusion that in her case, as in the -majority of cases, she was saved from folly by circumstances. - -By experience and by reflection, then, she was armed. Indeed, on -whatever side we regard the revelation of her love to Buzot, she was -blamable save one—and that of importance. In the general dissolution of -old ideas, in the return, in theory, to the state of nature, which -intellectual France had made, every law of social life, as every law of -government, had been traced to its origin, and its reasonableness and -justice questioned in the light of pure theory. Marriage had come under -the general dissection. Love is a divine law, a higher wisdom. It is -unjust, unreasonable, unnatural, to separate those who love because of -any previous tie. It is the natural right of man to be happy. - -This opinion in the air had affected Madame Roland. She found it -“bizarre and cruel” that two people should be chained together whom -differences of age, of sentiment, of character, have rendered -incompatible; and although she would not consent to take advantage of -this theory and leave Roland, it justified her in loving Buzot and in -telling him so. - -It was not only the new ideas on love and marriage which influenced her. -In the chaos of laws, of usages, of ideas, of aspirations, of hopes in -which she found herself, there seemed nothing worth saving but this. The -Revolution was stained and horrible. Her friends were helpless, she -herself seemed to be no longer of any use,—why not seize the one last -chance of joy? When the efforts and enthusiasms of one’s youth suddenly -show themselves to be but illusions, and the end of life seems to be at -hand, can it be expected that human nature with its imperious demand for -happiness refuse the last chance offered? Remember, too, that never in -the world’s history had a class of people believed more completely in -the _right_ to happiness, never demanded it more fully. - -At all events Madame Roland and Buzot declared their love. But this was -not enough for her; she felt that she could not deceive Roland and she -told him that she loved Buzot, but that since it was her duty to stay -with him (Roland) she would do it, and that she would be faithful to her -marriage vows. All considerations of kindliness, of reserve, of womanly -tenderness, of honor, should have dictated to Madame Roland that if she -really had no intention of yielding to her love, as she certainly never -had, it was useless and cruel to torment Roland at his age, with failing -health, and in his desperate public position, with the story of her -passion. He loved her devotedly, and she had incessantly worked to -excite and deepen this love—to be told now that she loved another must -wound him in his deepest affections. But she had a sentimental need of -frankness. She loved expansion; she must open her heart to him. In doing -it she heaped upon the overburdened old man the heaviest load a heart -can carry, that of the desertion of its most trusted friend and -companion, and that after years of association and almost daily renewal -of vows of love and fidelity. - -Absorbed by her passion, she found it unreasonable and vexing that -Roland should take her confession to heart, that he did not rejoice over -her candor and accept her “sacrifice” with gratitude and tears. In her -Memoirs she says of Roland’s attitude towards the affair: - -“I honor and cherish my husband as a sensitive daughter adores a -virtuous father, to whom she would sacrifice even her lover; but I found -the man who might have been my lover, and while remaining faithful to my -duties, I was too artless to conceal my feelings. My husband, -excessively sensitive on account of his affection and his self-respect, -could not endure the idea of the least change in his empire; he grew -suspicious, his jealousy irritated me. Happiness fled from us. He adored -me, I sacrificed myself for him, and we were unhappy.” - -Such was the delicate and painful situation in which Madame Roland, -Buzot, and Roland were placed during the struggle between the Gironde -and Mountain. We might expect despair and indifference from them in the -face of the enormous difficulties in the Convention. But they never -faltered. Their courage was superb from first to last. Furthermore, -there is no sign left us of distrust and irritation towards one another. -Buzot supported Roland in every particular. Madame Roland and her -husband were associated as closely as ever in public work. Roland and -Buzot, both of them, were held to an almost Quixotic state of -forbearance and strength by the exalted enthusiasm of this woman of -powerful sentiments and affections. Neither of the men ever looked upon -her with dimmed love and respect. In spite of all she made them suffer, -inspired by her faith in their virtue, they accepted a Platonic life _à -trois_, and for many months were able to work together. - - - - - XI - THE ROLANDS TURN AGAINST THE REVOLUTION - - -Upon Roland the effect of the atrocities of September, and the -consciousness of his own powerlessness, was terrible. His health was -undermined; he could not eat; his skin became yellow; he did not sleep; -his step was feeble, but his activity was feverish; he worked night and -day. Having a chance to become a member of the new legislative body, the -Convention to meet September 21st, he sent in his resignation as -Minister of the Interior. The resignation raised a cry from the Gironde, -and hosts of anxious patriots urged him to remain. - -In the session of September 29th, the question came up in the Convention -of inviting Roland, and those of his colleagues who had resigned with -him, to remain in office. His enemies did not lose the opportunity to -attack him. Danton even went so far as to say: “If you invite him, -invite Madame Roland too; everybody knows that he has not been alone in -his department.” - -This discussion, and the discovery that his election as deputy would be -illegal, persuaded Roland to withdraw his resignation. He announced his -decision in an address which was an unmistakable arraignment of the -Commune and the Mountain, an announcement that the Minister of the -Interior, in remaining in office, remained as their enemy. He abandoned -in this same address an important point of his old policy. Formerly it -had been to Paris that he had appealed. She alone had the energy, the -fire, the daring to act. The rest of the country was apathetic, -passionless; but now he says Paris has done all that is necessary. She -must retire, “must be reduced to her eighty-third portion of influence; -a more extensive influence would excite fears, and nothing would be more -harmful to Paris than the discontent or suspicion of the departments—no -representations, however numerous, should acquire an ascendency over the -Convention.” - -At that particular moment no policy could have been more antagonistic to -the Parisian populace. They were “saving the country.” None but a -traitor would oppose their efforts. Roland not only declared that they -must cease their work; he called for an armed force drawn from all the -departments and stationed about Paris to prevent the city from -interfering with the free action of the Convention. The suspicion which -before the 10th of August he had applied to the constitutional party he -now turned upon the party which had produced that day; the measure he -had proposed to prevent the treason of the Court, he now proposed as a -guard against the excesses of the patriots. - -He ran a Bureau of Public Opinion, which scattered thousands of -documents filled with the eloquent and vague teachings of the Gironde -schools. He urged the pastors to stop singing the _Domine Salvum fac -Regnum_, and to translate their services into French; he discoursed upon -how and when the word _citizen_ should be used, advised a national -costume, suggested that scenes from the classics be regularly reproduced -in public to stir to patriotism, that fêtes celebrating every possible -anniversary be instituted; but chiefly he defended himself against the -charges of his antagonists, extolling his own impeccability and the -exactness of his accounts. No sadder reading ever was printed than the -campaign of words Roland carried on during the four months he struggled -against the Mountain. Fearless, sincere, honest, disinterested as he -was, he was still so pitifully inadequate to the situation, so -ridiculously subjective in his methods, that irritation at his impotence -is forgotten in the compassion it awakens. - -While Roland carried on his Bureau of Public Opinion and defended his -character, Buzot, in the Convention, fought the Mountain more openly and -more bitterly. He had no excuse whatever for the excesses of September; -no veil to draw over the first twenty-four hours, no patience, no -thought of compromise with Robespierre and Danton, the leaders of the -Commune. To his mind they were murderers pure and simple, and the -country was not worth saving, if it could not be saved without them. In -Roland’s case there is always the feeling that if the Commune had -regarded him as necessary, obeyed his directions, let him run his Public -Opinion Office to suit himself, and ceased maligning his character, he -would have condoned their massacre as one of the unhappy but necessary -means of insuring the Revolution; that if these “misled brothers,” as he -called them, had recognized their mistake, he would have opened his arms -to them. Never so with Buzot. Sensitive, idealistic, indifferent to -public applause, from the first he took a violent and pronounced -position against the Mountain, and refused to compromise with them. It -was not hatred alone of the excesses. It was sympathy with Madame -Roland, who had revolted against the Revolution. From the day at Evreux, -when he received a letter from her, telling of her disgust and -disillusion, and setting up a new cause,—the purification of the country -of agitators and rioters,—Buzot’s ideas on the policy of Terror changed. -When he came up to the Convention he immediately made a violent attack -on Robespierre, declared that the Mountain was the most dangerous foe of -the country, that Paris was usurping the power of France, and he never -ceased his war. - -The measure which Madame Roland had suggested a few months before to -protect Paris, the patriots, and the Assembly against the aristocrats, -he now proposed to thwart the activity of Paris and the Commune,—a guard -drawn from all the departments for the defence of the Convention. -Naturally, this drew upon him the hatred of the sections and leaders, -and he was accounted in the Convention, from the 1st of October, the -avowed opponent of the Terrorists. - -Nothing intimidated him. He followed up the proposition for a guard by a -demand for a decree against those who provoked to murder and -assassination. Systematically he refused to believe in the sincerity of -Robespierre and Danton,—they were usurpers aiming at dictatorship. When -in March they sought to organize a revolutionary tribunal, Buzot, -furious and trembling, declared to the Convention that he was weary of -despotism. He signalled the abuses that were made all over France by the -revolutionary bodies, and violently attacked members of the Jacobin -society and of the Mountain, denouncing them as infamous wretches, as -assassins of the country. It was not only murder of which he accused -them,—it was corruption. “Sudden and scandalous fortunes” were noted -among the Terrorists in the Convention,—and he demanded that each deputy -give the condition and origin of his fortune. - -In all these measures Buzot was in harmony with Roland, and he fought -the minister’s cause in the Convention so far as possible. Indeed, it -came to be a sort of personal resentment he showed when Roland was -attacked in the body, and once he went so far that they cried out to -him, “It is not you we are talking about.” It was a lover’s jealousy -against anything which harmed his lady. - -But while attacking the Terrorists Buzot was obliged to prove his -patriotism, to show that he was a republican, and a hater of the -monarchy. He did it by radical measures. While insisting on an armed -force to protect the Convention, he demanded the perpetual banishment of -the _émigrés_, and their death if they set foot in France. A few weeks -later he demanded that whosoever should propose the re-establishment of -royalty in France, under whatsoever denomination, should be punished by -death; afterwards he asked the banishment of all the Bourbons, not -excepting Philippe of Orleans, then sitting in the Convention. - -When it came to the question of the death of Louis XVI., Buzot wished -that the King be heard and not condemned immediately; when he came to -vote, it was for his death with delay and a _referendum_ that he -decided. - -But no amount of violence against the royalists could now prove him a -patriot. That which made a patriot in the fall of 1792 was an altogether -different thing from what made one in the spring of 1792. Buzot, with -the Gironde, was suspected. It was not enough that he opposed the old -régime and approved a Republic, he must approve the vengeance of -Terrorism and support the Terrorists. But he could not do it. He was -revolted by the awful excess, and he underwent a physical repulsion -which was almost feminine and made any union with the party impossible, -whatever the demands of politics were. - -As a matter of fact, the Mountain feared Buzot but little. His -irritability, haughtiness, lack of humor, made him of small importance -as a leader in the Gironde. He could not move the Convention as -Vergniaud; he had none of the wire-pulling skill of Brissot; he was -important chiefly as the spokesman of Madame Roland’s measures. Buzot’s -intimate relations to the Rolands seem to have been well understood. The -contemptuous way in which Marat treated him shows this. Marat called him -_frère tranquille Buzot_; and sneered at him for “declaiming in a -ridiculous tone”; said the _frère tranquille_ had a _pathos glacial_; -called him _le pédant Buzot; the corypheus of the Rolands_. - -In this chaotic and desperate struggle neither Roland nor Buzot were -more active than Madame Roland. She had become a public factor by -Marat’s accusations, and by Danton’s sneers in the Convention. She kept -her place. At home she was as active as ever in assisting her husband. -Many of the official papers of this period, which have been preserved, -are in her hand, or have been annotated by her. Important circulars and -reports she frequently prepared, and Roland trusted her implicitly in -such work. She was his adviser and helper in every particular of the -official work, and at the same time saw many people who were essential -to them. This social activity brought down Marat’s abuse. She was -“Penelope Roland” for him, and in one number of the journal under the -head “Le Trantran de la Penelope Roland,” he wrote: “The woman Roland -has a very simple means of recruiting. Does a deputy need her husband -for affairs of the department, Roland pretends a multiplicity of -engagements and begs to put him off until after the Assembly,—‘Come and -take supper with us, citizen and deputy, we will talk of your business -afterwards.’ The woman Roland cajoles the guests one after the other, -even _en portant la main sous le menton de ses favoris_, redoubles -attention for the new-comer, who soon joins the clique.” - -Marat professes to have this from a deputy who had visited her. It is -abusive and false, but it is well to remember that a year before Madame -Roland had not hesitated to believe and repeat equally ridiculous -stories of Marie Antoinette. Indeed, Madame Roland had the same place in -the minds of the patriots of the fall of 1792, that the Queen had a year -before in the minds of the Gironde. “We have destroyed royalty,” says -_Père Duchesne_, “and in its place we have raised a tyranny still more -odious. The tender other half of the virtuous Roland has France in -leading-strings to-day, as once the Pompadours and the Du Barrys. She -receives every evening at the hour of the bats in the same place where -Antoinette plotted a new Saint Bartholomew with the Austrian committee. -Like the former Queen, Madame Coco (the name _Père Duchesne_ usually -gives Madame Roland), stretched on a sofa, surrounded by her wits, -reasons blindly on war, politics, supplies. It is in this gambling-den -that all the announcements posted up are manufactured.” - -In December she was even obliged to appear before the Convention. Roland -had been accused of being in correspondence with certain eminent -_émigrés_ then in England, and to be plotting with them the -re-establishment of the King. One Viard was said to be the go-between, -and to have had a meeting with Madame Roland. Roland was summoned to -answer the charge and, having responded, demanded that his wife be -heard. Her appearance made a sensation in the Convention, and she -cleared herself so well of the charges that she was loudly applauded, -and was accorded the honors of the session. The spectators alone were -silent and Marat remarked, “See how still the people are; they are wiser -than we.” - -At the beginning of the year 1793, the danger of mob violence was added -to the incessant slanders by Hébert and Marat. “Every day,” says -Champagneux, who was then employed by the minister, “a new danger -appeared. It seemed as if each night would be the last of her life, as -if an army of assassins would profit by the darkness to come and murder -her as well as her husband. The most sinister threats came from all -sides. She was urged not to sleep at the Hôtel of the Interior.” - -At first the alarm was so great on her account that she yielded to her -friends’ wishes, but she hated the idea of flight. One evening the -danger was such that every one insisted on her disguising herself and -leaving the hotel. She consented, but the wig they brought did not fit, -and in a burst of impatience she flung the costume, wig and all, into -the corner and declared she was ashamed of herself; that if any one -wanted to assassinate her, he might do it there; that she ought to give -an example of firmness and she would. And from that day she never left -the hotel until Roland resigned on January 22d. - -The little apartment in the Rue de la Harpe was waiting them. To leave -the Hôtel of the Interior was no trial to them privately. No one could -have been more indifferent to considerations of position and -surroundings. Their convictions of their own right-doing made them -superior to all influences which affect worldly and selfish natures. It -is impossible for such people as the Rolands to “come down” in life. -Material considerations are so external, so mere an incident, that they -can go from palace to hut without giving the matter a second thought. -But retirement did not mean relief. Roland’s reports which he had made -to the Convention, and which he felt justly were a complete answer to -the charges against him, were unnoticed. He begged the body repeatedly -to examine them. He urged his ill-health and his desire to leave Paris -as a reason, but no notice was taken of him. To Roland this neglect -seemed insolence. He felt that he deserved honorable recognition. He -craved it, and was irritated and discouraged when he did not receive it. - -It was evident, too, that his retirement from office had not made his -enemies forget him. They followed him as they had priests, _émigrés_, -and nobles, and Marat repeatedly denounced him as connected with the -opposition to the Mountain. - -It was horrible for them to watch day after day the struggle going on in -the Convention between Gironde and Mountain. Day by day the condition of -the former grew more desperate, their defeat and the triumph of the -policy of vengeance more certain. The most tragic part of the gradual -downfall of the Gironde was not defeat, however. It was disillusion—the -slow-growing and unconfessed suspicion that their dream had been an -error. It was Buzot who felt this most deeply. In his Memoirs he -confesses that gradually he grew convinced that France was not fitted -for the Republic they had dared to give it, and that often he had been -at the point of owning his mistake: - -“My friends and I kept our hope of a Republic in France for a long -time,” he writes; “even when everything seemed to show us that the -enlightened class, either through prejudice or guided by experience and -reason, refused this form of government. My friends did not give up this -hope even at the period when those who governed the Republic were the -most vicious and the vilest of men, and when the French people could be -least counted on.... For myself, I avow that I despaired several times -of the success of this project so dear to my heart. Before my expulsion -from the Convention, not wishing to betray my conscience or my -principles, I was on the point, several times, of retiring from a -position where all the dangers, even that of dishonoring my memory, left -me no hope of doing good; where even our obstinate and useless -resistance did nothing but increase the error of good citizens on the -true situation of the National Convention. A kind of self-love which was -honored by the name of duty kept me at my post in spite of myself. My -friends desired it and I stayed.... It is useless to deny it—the -majority of the French people sighed after royalty and the constitution -of 1790. There were only a few men with noble and elevated souls who -felt worthy of having been born republicans, and whom the example of -America had encouraged to follow the project of a similar institution in -France, who thought in good faith to naturalize it in the country of -frivolities and inconstancy. The rest—with the exception of a crowd of -wretches without intelligence, without education, and without resources, -who vomited injuries on the monarchy as in six months they will on the -Republic, without knowing any reason why—the rest did not desire it, -wanted only the constitution of 1791, and talked of the true republicans -as one talks of extremely sincere fools. Have the events of the 20th of -June, the suffering, the persecution, the assassinations which have -followed them, changed the opinion of the majority in France? No; but in -the cities they pretend to be _sans-culottes_; those that do not are -guillotined. In the country the most unjust requisitions are obeyed, -because those who do not obey them are guillotined; on all sides the -young go to war, because those who do not go are guillotined. The -guillotine explains everything. It is the great weapon of the French -government. This people is republican because of the guillotine. Examine -closely, go into families, search the hearts if they dare open to you; -you will read there hate against the government that fear imposes upon -them. You will see there that all desires, all hopes, turn towards the -constitution of 1791.” - -[Illustration: - - The prison, called the Abbaye, where Madame Roland passed the first - twenty-four days of her imprisonment. -] - -That Buzot should have remained until the end with the Gironde, when -convinced, as he here says, that their efforts for a Republic were -contrary to the will of the country, and when, too, he was revolted -against the excesses its establishment was causing, he explained fully, -when he wrote: “My error was too beautiful to be repented of;” and -again, when he says: “Our dream was too beautiful to be abandoned.” - -The terrible whirlpool had dragged away hopes, ambitions, dreams, from -them. Into it went, too, some of their most valued friends; men whom -they had raised to positions of importance, but who now that they saw -the party defeated abandoned them through fear and disillusion. At the -same time that they were experiencing all the force of their -disillusion, the relation between Roland and his wife was becoming -terribly tense and painful. They felt that they must bring it to an end -in some way, must get away from Buzot, and they resolved to go to the -country. In May Roland wrote, for the eighth time, to the Convention, -begging that the report on his administration be examined. His letter -was not even read to the body. It became more and more probable that -threats which had followed them a long time would take effect soon, and -Roland be arrested. Madame Roland decided that she ought not to remain -in Paris with her daughter any longer, as Roland could escape more -easily if they were at Le Clos. Her health, too, sadly altered by the -storm of emotions which she had passed through, demanded a change. - -The passports permitting them to leave Paris had been delayed some days, -and just as she received them she fell ill. She was not herself again -when the 31st of May came. This day was for the Gironde what the 10th of -August had been for the King. - -During the latter half of May the Convention had been the scene of one -of the maddest, awfulest struggles in the history of legislative bodies, -and the victory had throughout leaned towards the Terrorists. They were -decided, and audacious. The indecision, the platitudes, the disgust, of -the Gironde weakened the party constantly. The struggle was ended by the -riot of May 31st. Before the contest was over the Convention had voted -the expulsion and trial of twenty-two members of the Gironde. Again the -stick was out of the wheel, and the Republic was to roll. - -Roland was not in the number that the Mountain could strike through the -Convention. It had a much more direct and simple, a more _legal_, method -of reaching him. Its Revolutionary committee had already been in -operation some time. Its work was arresting those who stood in the way -of the Republic. That Roland did, Marat had proved time and again, and -now that the time had come to rid the country of the Gironde _in toto_, -it would never do to let him escape. - -It was on the afternoon of May 31st that the arrest of Roland was made -at their apartment in the Rue de la Harpe. Arrests at this period were -so arbitrary a matter, the sympathy or resentment of the officers and -spectators had so much to do with their execution or non-execution, that -it is not surprising that Roland by his own protestations and arguments, -and by the aid of the good people of the house who were friendly to him, -was able to induce the officer in charge to leave his colleagues and go -after further orders. - -Madame Roland took advantage of the delay to attempt a _coup d’état_, go -to the Convention, secure a hearing, present Roland’s case, and trust to -her beauty, her wit, and her eloquence to obtain his release. In her -morning gown, for she was only just off her sick-bed, she sprung into a -cab and drove to the Carrousel. The front court was filled with armed -men; every entrance was guarded. With the greatest difficulty she -reached the waiting-room and attempted to get a hearing from the -president. A terrible uproar came from the Assembly, and after a long -wait she learned what it meant,—the demand for the arrest of the -twenty-two was being made. - -She sent for Vergniaud and explained the situation. She could hope for -nothing in the condition of affairs in the Assembly,—he told her the -Convention was able to do nothing more. “It can do everything,” she -cried; “the majority of Paris only asks to know what ought to be done. -If I am admitted, I shall dare say what you could not without being -accused. I fear nothing in the world, and if I do not save Roland, I -shall say what will be useful to the Republic.” But what use to insist -in this chaos? Not Vergniaud, not Buzot, not the Gironde as a body, had -the power at this final moment to secure a hearing. She was forced to -give it up and retire; not so easy a matter through the suspicious -battalions guarding the approaches to the château. She was even obliged -to leave her cab at last and go home on foot. - -Back in the apartment she found that Roland had escaped. She went from -house to house until she found him. They talked over the situation, he -concluded to fly, she decided to go again to the Convention, and they -parted. - -In spite of weakness and fatigue Madame Roland made, that night, another -attempt to reach the Convention. But when she reached the palace the -session was closed. After infinite difficulty from the citizens who -guarded the Tuileries she reached her home again. She had seated herself -to write a note to Roland when, about midnight, a deputation from the -Commune presented itself, asking for Roland. She refused to answer their -questions, and they retired, leaving a sentinel at the door of the -apartment and at that of the house. She finished her letter and went to -bed. In an hour she was awakened. Her frightened servant told her that -delegates from the section wanted to see her. With perfect calm she -dressed herself for the street and passed into the room where the -commissioners waited. - -“We come, Citoyenne, to arrest you and put on the seals.” - -“Where are your orders?” - -“Here,” says a man drawing an order of arrest from the Revolutionary -committee of the Commune. No reason of arrest is assigned in the -document, which still exists, and the order given is to place her in the -Abbaye to be questioned the next day. She hesitated. Should she resist? -But what was the use? She was in their eyes _mise hors de la loi_ and -she submitted, not sorry at heart perhaps, to be put into a position -where she could resist publicly the tyranny of her enemies. Reinforced -by officers from the section, and by fifty to a hundred good -_sans-culottes_ come to see that the officers do their duty according to -their sovereign will, the commissioners placed seals on boxes and doors, -windows and wardrobes. One zealous patriot wanted to put one on the -piano. They told him it was a musical instrument. Thereupon he contented -himself with pulling out a yardstick and taking its dimensions. - -In this ignorant, vulgar, and violent crowd she came and went serenely, -preparing for her imprisonment. She even noted with amusement their -curiosity and stupidity. It was morning when she left her weeping -household. “These people love you,” said one of the commissioners, as -they went downstairs. “I never have any one about me who does not,” she -replied proudly. - -Two rows of armed men extended from the doorway across the Rue de la -Harpe to the carriage, waiting on the other side of the street. She -looked about as she came out, at all this display of force, at the crowd -of curious Parisian _badauds_ who watched the scene, and with conscious -dignity she advanced “slowly considering the cowardly and mistaken -troop.” It is a short five minutes’ walk from where Madame Roland lived -to the prison of the Abbaye and she soon was within the walls. - -Two days later, June 2d, the arrest of Buzot was decreed by the -Convention. He was seized but escaped from his guards, and fled from -Paris to Evreux, where he was well received by the department which -believed that the Convention had been forced into its decree against the -twenty-two. Roland in the meantime had reached Amiens. The three were -never to see one another again. The cause which brought them together -had separated them forever. - - - - - XII - IN PRISON - - -It was the morning of the first day of June, 1792, that Madame Roland -was taken to the Abbaye. The imprisonment then begun lasted until -November 8th, the day of her death. The record we have of her life -during these five months is full and intimate. - -Separated from her child, her husband in flight, her friends persecuted -by the Commune, she herself only just off a sick-bed, confined in a -prison which had been from the beginning of the Revolution a centre of -riot and the floors of whose halls and courts were still warm with the -blood of the massacre of September, the cries of _à la Guillotine_ -following her from the street, it would not have been strange if her -courage had failed, if she had paled before the fate which she knew in -all probability awaited her. But from the beginning to the end of her -long durance she showed a proud indifference to the result, an almost -reckless audacity in braving her enemies, a splendid courage in -suffering. She was serene, haughty, triumphant, a man, not a woman. - -She declared that she would not exchange the moments which followed her -entrance into the Abbaye for those which others would call the sweetest -of her life. Indifferent to her surroundings, she sank into a revery, -reviewing her past: there was nothing to make her blush, she felt, even -if her heart was the scene of a powerful passion. She calculated the -future and with pride and joy felt that she had the courage to accept -her lot, to defy its rigors. “What can compare to a good conscience, a -strong purpose,” she cries. There is nothing in her situation which is -worth an instant of unrest. Her enemies shall not prevent her loving to -the last, and if they destroy her she will go from life as one enters -upon repose. And this high serenity endured even when, twenty-four days -later, she suffered one of the most cruel and unnecessary outrages of -the Revolution. On June 24th, she was freed. Hurrying home to the Rue de -la Harpe, she flew into the house “like a bird,” calling a gay good-day -to her concierge. She had not mounted four steps of her staircase before -two men who had entered at her heels called: - -“Citoyenne Roland.” - -“What do you want?” - -“In the name of the law we arrest you.” - -That night she slept in the prison of Sainte Pélagie, only a stone’s -throw from the convent where as a girl she had prepared for her first -communion. - -The bitter disappointment of reimprisonment did not bend her spirit. “I -am proud,” she wrote, some hours after her rearrest, “to be persecuted -at a moment when talent and honor are being proscribed. I am assuredly -more tranquil in my chains than my oppressors are in the exercise of -their unjust power. I confess that the refinement of cruelty with which -they ordered me to be set at liberty in order to rearrest me a moment -afterwards, has fired me with indignation. I can no longer see where -this tyranny will go.” This indignation was so bitter that the first -night in her new prison she could not sleep. It was only the first -night, however. To allow herself to be irritated by the injustice of her -enemies was to be their dupe. She would not give them that satisfaction, -and this intrepidity endured to the end. - -There are several reasons for her really phenomenal fortitude. At the -bottom of it was no doubt the fact that material considerations had no -influence on her when they came into conflict with sentiments and -enthusiasms. An ordinary woman would have paled with fear at the sound -of women shouting into her carriage _à la guillotine_; the crowded halls -of the Abbaye, the tocsin sounding all night, the brutality of the -officers and guards, would have sickened her soul; the narrow and dirty -staircases, the bare and foul-smelling rooms, would have revolted her -delicacy; the dreadful associations filled her with shame and disgust. -But Madame Roland found inspiration in the thought of enduring all this. -She would not allow her soul to be moved by filth and noise, and she -moved serenely among the lowest outcasts. These things were externals, -mere incidents in life. They had no real importance in themselves. She -would use them to school her soul to more steadfast endurance,—certainly -she would never allow them to interfere with her soul’s life. - -A stolid and unimaginative mind might have endured her position with -equal calm; a dull and sluggish nature might have been equally -indifferent to the revolting sights; but never was an imagination more -responsive, a nature more vibrant and sensitive than hers. It was no -lack of life and vigor. She was brave and indifferent because the fact -of being so stirred her imagination. This sort of endurance seemed to -her worthy of a hero of antiquity. Her whole nature was kindled by the -thought of being superior to circumstances, of thwarting her enemies by -her courage. - -The training of her whole life helped her to carry out this idea. -Rousseau never drilled and trained Émile more rigidly in the doctrine of -submitting to necessity than she had herself. The more severe her trial, -the higher her courage rose. This she felt was a supreme test, a -martyrdom worthy of a Greek. Her classic conception of patriotism was -satisfied by the thought that she, like the ancients, was in prison for -the country and would undoubtedly die for it. - -Her imprisonment made her a prominent actor, too, in the tragedy. -Hitherto she had been behind the scenes, an influence recognized, to be -sure, by all parties, but acting through others. A woman’s place was not -in public, she believed, and she conformed carefully to her idea. But in -serious natures, feeling deeply their individual responsibility, there -is a demand for action. So long as Roland was minister she had ample -chance to satisfy her patriotic longings for helping. But after his -retirement and since the Gironde had been so demoralized that Buzot -could do little or nothing, she had felt bitterly her impotence. - -Now all was changed; she was in the fight, not as the amanuensis of her -husband, the inspirer of her friend, but as an independent actor. She -must show an example of how a patriot should endure and die, and she -must strike a blow for truth whenever she had a chance. What she did and -said would not only have its influence to-day, it would be quoted in the -future. This conviction of her obligation to help the cause and make -herself a figure in history, exalted her mind. She took a dramatic pose, -and she kept it to the end. If there was a shade of the theatrical in -it,—and there is almost always such a shading in Madame Roland’s -loftiest moods and finest acts,—there is so much indifference to self, -hatred of despotism, contempt of injustice, courage before pain, that -the lack of perfect naturalness is forgotten. - -From the beginning of her imprisonment she lost no opportunity to give a -lesson in civism to those about her. To the guard who brought her to the -Abbaye, and who remarked on leaving her that if Roland was not guilty it -was strange that he absented himself, she said that Roland was _just_, -like Aristides, and severe, like Cato, and that it was his virtues which -had made his enemies pursue him. “Let them heap their rage on me. I can -brave it and be resigned; he must be saved for his country, for he may -yet be able to render great service.” - -She neglected no opportunity of obtaining her liberty, not so much for -the sake of liberty as that it gave her a means of expressing her -opinions. By the advice of Grandpré, an inspector of prisons, protected -formerly by Roland, and who hurried to her aid the first day of her -imprisonment, she wrote to the Convention. In a haughty tone she -described her arrest, the fact that no motive for it was given, the -indignities and illegalities she had suffered, and demanded justice and -protection. - -So severe was the letter that Grandpré, after consulting Champagneux, -brought it back to her to soften a little. After reflection she -consented. “If I thought the letter would be read,” she told Grandpré, -“I would leave it as it is, even if it resulted in failure. One cannot -flatter himself that he will obtain justice of the Assembly. It does not -know how to practise to-day the truths addressed to it, but they must be -said that the departments may hear.” - -Grandpré did his best to have her letter read at the Convention, but in -the turmoil of the early days of June there was nothing to be obtained -from this body save through fear or force. Madame Roland, hearing that -the section in which she lived had taken her and Roland under its care, -wrote to thank them, and to suggest that they try to secure a reading of -the letter. But she took care that they should feel that she was no -tearful suppliant: “I submit this question to your _judgment_; I add no -_prayer_; truth has only one language; it is to expose _facts_; citizens -who desire _justice_ do not care that _supplications_ should be -addressed to them, and _innocence_ does not know how to make them.” - -The letter was read at the section and debated, but the Terrorists from -other quarters filled the hall, and by their menaces prevented any -effectual interference by those disposed in Madame Roland’s favor. -Grandpré insisted that she should write to the ministers of justice and -of the interior. She despised the weakness and mediocrity of both, and -declared she would write nothing unless she could “give them severe -lessons.” Grandpré found the letters she prepared humiliating, and -persuaded her to change them. Even after the changes they were intensely -hostile and contemptuous, anything but politic. - -The “lessons” she gave in her letters she never failed to put into any -conversation she had with public officials. One of these conversations -she relates. It was with a committee of five or six persons who had come -to look after the condition of the prisoners. - -“Good-day, Citoyenne.” - -“Good-day, sir.” - -“Are you satisfied with your quarters? Have you any complaints to make -of your treatment. Do you want anything?” - -“I complain because I am here and I ask to be released.” - -“Isn’t your health good? Are you a little dull?” - -“I am well and I am never dull. _L’ennui_ is a disease of an empty soul -and a mind without resources, but I have a lively sense of injustice. I -complain because I have been arrested without reason, and am detained -without being examined.” - -“Ah, in a time of revolution there is so much to do that one cannot -accomplish everything.” - -“A woman to whom King Philip made about the same answer told him, ‘If -you have not the time to do justice you have not time to be king.’ Take -care that you do not force oppressed citizens to say the same thing to -the people, or rather to the arbitrary authorities who are misleading -them.” - -“Adieu, Citoyenne.” - -“Adieu.” - -She had soon a more serious task than administering gratuitous rebukes -and repeating high-sounding maxims. It was in defending herself against -calumnies and accusations. She did it with spirit and clear-headedness, -as was to be expected, and frequently in a tone of contemptuous asperity -and superiority that could not fail to be exasperating. - -It was on June 12th that she was questioned. She was asked if she knew -anything about the troubles of the Republic during and after Roland’s -ministry, or of the plan to make a Federal Republic; who were the -persons who came to her salon; if she knew any traitors, or was allied -with friends of Dumouriez; what she knew of Roland’s Public Opinion -Bureau and his plan for corrupting the provinces; and lastly where was -Roland. The committee got very little satisfaction out of their victim. -They accused her of sharpness and evasion, and probably the accusation -was just. The interview indicated to Madame Roland the complaint of the -Commune against her, and showed her more clearly than before that there -was no definite reason for her arrest. She was a suspect; that explained -all. - -To vague accusations was added direct calumny. _Père Duchesne_ had not -forgotten _la reine Roland_, and one morning she heard cried under her -cell window: _Visit of Père Duchesne to the citoyenne Roland in the -prison of the Abbaye_. The details of the pretended visit were cried so -that she could hear them and at the same time the people collected in -the market of Saint Germain, held by the side of the prison, were -exhorted to avenge the wrongs Madame Coco had done them. The article was -in Hébert’s most offensive and ribald style and told how its author, -visiting the prison, was taken by Madame Roland for a brigand from La -Vendée; how she rejoiced with him over the losses of the Republic; told -him that aid was coming from Coblentz and England, and assured him that -the contra-revolution had been brought about through Roland. - -At first, hot with indignation at these calumnies, she tried to defend -herself, but she soon saw that to besiege the Revolutionary authorities -any longer was not only useless, but humiliating. It was better suited -to her proud courage to ignore them, and she found in her silence and -disdain a source of inspiration and strength. - -While natural courage, long schooling in self-denial, submission to -necessity, superiority to material considerations, intense patriotism, a -desire to vindicate herself to posterity, explain her remarkable -fortitude in her imprisonment, they do not her triumph. The exaltation -she found in her prison was that of love, a love which duty had thus far -forbidden her even to think of, but which now she felt she dared yield -to. Her jailers had become her liberators. - -In the documents which Madame Roland addressed from her prison to -“posterity” there are frequent allusions to her passion for one whose -name she concealed. In the collection of letters she left for friends, -under the head of “Last Thoughts,” is a passionate and exultant farewell -addressed to one whom “I dare not name, to one whom the most terrible of -passions has not kept from respecting the barriers of virtue.” She bids -him not to mourn that she precedes him to a place where “fatal -prejudices, arbitrary conventions, hateful passions, and all kinds of -tyranny are ended, where one day they can love each other without crime, -and where nothing will prevent their being united.” - -That Buzot was meant, remained a secret of the family for seventy years -after Madame Roland’s death. Her biographers frequently speculated as to -whom the object of her passion was. Lairtullier, writing in 1840, quotes -her portrait of Barbaroux and apostrophizes her thus: “Femme, voilá ton -secret trahi.” Servan and Vergniaud have been named as possibly her -hero. The truth came out in 1864, when a _bouquiniste_ of the Quai -Voltaire advertised for sale a quantity of French Revolution papers -among which were mentioned five letters of Madame Roland to Buzot. He -had bought them from a young man whose father was an amateur of -_bouquins_. Evidently they had been wandering among lovers of old papers -since the day they had been taken from the dead body of Buzot. Those -letters offered for sale were bought by the Bibliothèque Nationale. - -They paint, as no published letters, the exultation of love, its power -to lift the soul above all ordinary influences, free it from accepted -laws and conventionalities, to strengthen it until it glories in -suffering, if by that suffering it can yield itself to love. They show, -too, how noble and pure a conception of such a passion Madame Roland -had. It must not interfere with duty. Neither Roland must be betrayed, -nor the country neglected; if either happened, the crown of their -passion would be broken. Its glory and joy was not in abandon, but in -endurance. - -It was three weeks after she was confined in the Abbaye before she heard -from Buzot. Her first letter to him bears the date of June 22d. Buzot -was at that time at Evreux, exhorting the people to take part in a -movement of federalism to arouse the departments to act against the -usurpation of Paris. She wrote in response to the first letters from him -which her friends had been able to get to her. - -“How often have I re-read them! I press them to my heart; I cover them -with kisses; I had ceased to hope for them!... I came here proud and -calm, praying and still hoping in the defenders of Liberty. When I -learned of the decree against the Twenty-two, I cried, ‘My country is -lost!’ I was in the most cruel anguish until I was sure of your escape. -It was renewed by the decree against you; they owed that atrocity to -your courage. But when I found that you were at Calvados, I recovered my -calm. Continue your generous efforts, my friend. Brutus on the fields of -Philippi despaired too soon of the safety of Rome. So long as a -republican breathes and is free, let him act. He must, he can, be -useful. In any case, the South offers you a refuge; it will be an asylum -for the country. If dangers gather around you, it is there that you must -turn your eyes and your steps; it is there that you must live, for there -you can serve your fellow-men and practise virtue. - -“As for me, I know how to wait patiently for the return of the reign of -justice, or to undergo the last excesses of tyranny in such a way that -my example shall not be vain. If I fear anything, it is that you may -make imprudent efforts for me. My friend, it is by saving your country -that you deliver me. I do not want my safety at its expense, but I shall -die satisfied if I know you are working for your country. Death, -suffering, sorrow, are nothing to me. I can defy all. Why, I shall live -to my last hour without spending a single moment in unworthy agitation.” - -She went over life in the Abbaye, and told him what she knew of her -family and friends. Of Roland she said: - -“The unfortunate Roland has been twenty days in two refuges in the -houses of trembling friends, concealed from all eyes, more of a captive -than I am myself. I have feared for his mind and his health. He is now -in your neighborhood. Would that were true in a moral sense! I dare not -tell you, and you alone can understand, that I was not sorry to be -arrested.... I owe it to my jailers that I can reconcile duty and love. -Do not pity me. People admire my courage, but they do not understand my -joys. Thou who must feel them, savest their charm by the constancy of -thy courage.” - -One would believe it a quotation from a letter of Julie to Saint-Preux. -The 3d of July she sent another letter: - -“I received your letter of the 27th. I still hear your voice; I am a -witness to your resolutions; I share the sentiments which animate you. I -am proud of loving you and of being loved by you.... My friend, let us -not so forget ourselves as to say evil of that virtue which is bought by -great sacrifice, it is true, but which pays in its turn by priceless -compensations. Tell me, do you know sweeter moments than those passed in -the innocence and the charm of an affection that nature recognizes and -that delicacy regulates; which honors duty for the privations that she -imposes upon it and gathers strength in enduring them? Do you know a -greater advantage than that of being superior to adversity and to death; -of finding in the heart something to enjoy and to sweeten life up to the -last sigh? Have you ever experienced better these effects than in the -attachment which binds us, in spite of the contradictions of society and -the horrors of oppression? I have told you that to it I owe my joy in my -captivity. Proud of being persecuted in these times when character and -honesty are proscribed, I would have supported it with dignity, even -without you, but you make it sweet and dear to me. The wretches think to -overwhelm me by putting irons upon me—senseless! What does it matter to -me if I am here or there? Is not my heart always with me? To confine me -in a prison—is it not to deliver me entirely to it? My company, it is my -love! My occupation, it is to think of it!... If I must die, very well. -I know what is best in life, and its duration would perhaps only force -new sacrifices upon me. The most glorified instant of my existence, that -in which I felt most deeply that exaltation of soul which rejoices in -braving all clangers, was when I entered the Bastille that my jailers -had chosen for me. I will not say that I went before them, but it is -true that I did not flee them. I had not calculated on their fury -reaching me, but I believed that if it did, it would give me an -opportunity to serve Roland by my testimony, my constancy, and my -firmness. I would be glad to sacrifice my life for him in order to win -the right to give you my last sigh.” - -She sent for his picture, and writes, July 7th: - -“It is on my heart, concealed from all eyes, felt at every moment, and -often bathed in my tears. Oh, I am filled with your courage, honored by -your affection, and glorying in all that both can inspire in your proud -and sensitive soul. I cannot believe that Heaven reserves nothing but -trials for sentiments so pure and so worthy of its favor. This sort of -confidence makes me endure life and face death calmly. Let us enjoy with -gratitude the goods given us. He who knows how to love as we do, carries -within himself the principle of the greatest and best actions, the price -of the most painful sacrifices, the compensation for all evils. -Farewell, my beloved, farewell.” - -On July 7th, she wrote Buzot the last letter, so far as we know, that he -received from her. In it all the exultation of her ardent passion, all -the force of her noble courage, are concentrated. - -“My friend, you cannot picture the charm of a prison where one need -account only to his own heart for the employment of his moments! No -annoying distraction, no painful sacrifice, no tiresome cares; none of -those duties so much the more binding on an honest heart because they -are respectable; none of those contradictions of law, or of the -prejudices of society, with the sweetest inspirations of nature; no -jealous look spies on what one feels, or the occupation which one -chooses; no one suffers from your inaction or your melancholy; no one -expects efforts or demands sentiments which are not in your power; left -to yourself and to truth, with no obstacles to overcome, no friction to -endure, one can, without harm to the rights and to the affection of -another, abandon his soul to its own righteousness, refind his moral -independence in an apparent captivity, and exercise it with a -completeness that social relations almost always change. I had not -looked for this independence.... Circumstances have given me that which -I could never have had without a kind of crime. How I love the chains -which give me freedom to love you undividedly, to think of you -ceaselessly! Here all other occupation is laid aside. I belong only to -him who loves me and merits so well to be loved by me.... I do not want -to penetrate the designs of Heaven, I will not allow myself to make -guilty prayers, but I bless God for having substituted my present chains -for those I wore before. And this change appears to me the beginning of -favor. If He grants me more, may He leave me here until my deliverance -from a world given over to injustice and unhappiness!” - -“Do not pity me,” she wrote to Buzot in her letter of June 22. She was -not to be pitied. Life and death were kinder to her than to most of -those upon whom fall the supreme misfortune of loving where -conventionalities and law forbid love to go. It took the struggle from -her hand and prevented the disillusion which she must have undergone had -she lived. There is no escaping the conclusion that she would have -ultimately left Roland for Buzot. Her idealization of all relations, -persons, and ideas which stirred her; her imagination from infancy, -given full play; her passionate nature, which she knew but poorly, -though flattering herself that she was entirely its mistress; her -confidence in the superiority of sentiment and in herself,—would have -unquestionably pushed her to a union of some sort with Buzot. She was -happy to be guillotined when she was, otherwise she must have inevitably -suffered the most terrible and humiliating of all the disillusions of a -woman,—the loss of faith in herself, in the infallibility of her -sentiments, in her incapability to do wrong. - -There is a much more natural and simple side to Madame Roland’s five -months in prison than this one of exaltation and endurance, which, when -viewed apart, sometimes becomes a little fatiguing. If one regards only -the heroine, her self-sufficiency is a bit irritating at moments, much -as one must admire it. It is the arrangement of her life, her -occupations, her amusements, which appeal most to ordinary minds, and -which perhaps are a better index to her real force of character than her -exalted periods and professions. - -When first taken to the Abbaye she was obliged to be alone in her cell, -to take a tiny room with dirty walls and a heavily grated window. It -opened on a disagreeable street, and below she could hear by night the -cries of the sentry; by day, the hawking of _Père Duchesne’s_ journal, -and the rudeness of the market people, cries sometimes directed against -herself. Nevertheless she decorated the little cell so gayly with -flowers and books that her jailers called it Flora’s Pavilion. - -At the Abbaye about fifty cents a day were allowed each prisoner for his -expenses, although he could spend more if he had it. Madame Roland -decided to amuse herself by making an experiment,—to see to what she -could reduce her fare. Bread and water was served her for her -_déjeuner_; for dinner (one hundred years ago the French dined at noon) -she ate only one kind of meat, with a salad; in the evening, a little -vegetable, but no dessert. After a time she got on without wine or beer. -“This régime,” she explained, “had a moral end, and as I should have had -as much aversion as contempt for a useless economy, I commenced by -giving a sum to the poor, in order to have the pleasure, when eating my -dry bread in the morning, of thinking that the poor souls would owe it -to me that they could add something to their dinners.” - -When she went to Sainte Pélagie, she found her life a little different. -There the State gave nothing in money for the prisoners, who even paid -for their beds. All that was furnished them was a pound and a half of -bread and a dish of beans each day. She made arrangements with the -concierge of the prison to furnish her meals which were about as simple -as at the Abbaye. The prison itself she found most disagreeable. In -fact, Sainte Pélagie, which exists to-day, though condemned to -destruction, is the most gloomy and forbidding building in Paris. Its -mere presence in the quarter where it stands gives a dreary and hopeless -air to the street. The inmates of the prison at the period when Madame -Roland was confined there were of such a character that she was -subjected to the most disgusting annoyances. In the corridor from which -her cell opened, their rooms separated from one and another only by thin -partitions, were numbers of abandoned and criminal women. So obscene and -revolting were they that she rarely left her room, though she could not -shut out their noise. - -From this pandemonium the concierge succeeded in saving her for a time, -giving her a large chamber near her own, where she even had a piano; but -the inspectors, once aware of the favor, ordered her back into the noisy -corridor. Even there, however, she had her pleasures,—her flowers and -her books. The first Bosc supplied her; the second she bought, or begged -from her friends. She had Thompson, Shaftesbury, an English dictionary, -Tacitus, and Plutarch. She bought pencils and drew a little every day; -altogether it was a busy life. Her day was arranged regularly. In the -morning she studied English, the essay of Shaftesbury on virtue, and -Thompson; after that she drew until noon. Then she had serious work, -for, conscious that her imprisonment might end in her death, she -resolved at its outset to set down as fully as she should have time to, -the facts in the political life of Roland, and to explain her own -relations to him. It is from the material that she was able to write in -this five months and get to her friends, that most of what we know of -her life comes. - -The first undertaken was her _Historical Notes_, written at the Abbaye. -These she did, so rapidly, she says, and with such pleasure, that in -less than a month she had manuscript for a volume. It was a summary of -her public life, and an estimate on the people she had known during it. -She had, herself, a very good opinion of the production: “I wrote it -with my natural freedom and energy, with frank abandon and with the ease -of one who is free from all private considerations, with pleasure in -painting what I had felt and seen, and, finally, with the confidence -that in any case it would be my moral and political testament. It had -the originality which circumstances lent it, and the merit of -reflections born from passing events, and the freshness which belongs to -such an origin.” - -The manuscript was confided to Champagneux, who was still in the -Department of the Interior, but he, arrested, confided it to a person -who, frightened lest it should fall into the hands of the inspectors, -threw it into the fire. “I should have preferred to have been thrown -there myself,” said Madame Roland, when she heard of this disaster. - -Not all of the _Historical Notes_ were destroyed, however, the account -of her own and her husband’s arrest, of her first days at the Abbaye, -and a brief sketch of their official life being saved. - -It was more than a month after she was imprisoned at Sainte Pélagie -before she determined to do over the task. The new undertaking included -a series of portraits and anecdotes drawn from her political life, an -account of her second arrest, and of the first and second ministries. At -the same time that she wrote this, she prepared her private Memoirs,—a -detailed history of her life up to 1777,—and notes on the time between -her marriage and the Revolution. She intended to add to her Memoirs the -story of her relations with Buzot, giving the origin and progress of her -passion, but she was never able to finish it. - -To this literary budget, already large, she afterwards added several -short manuscripts,—a set of “Last Thoughts,” a number of letters, and a -comment on the accusation made by the Mountain against the Gironde, that -it was guilty of a conspiracy against the unity and the indivisibility -of the Republic, and the liberty and safety of the French people. - -Almost all of this matter was given to Bosc, who, thanks to the -concierge of Sainte Pélagie, was allowed to see her twice a week, up to -the middle of October. But Bosc was proscribed later, and obliged to -flee. Unwilling to trust the treasures he held to another, he hid the -manuscripts in the crevice of a rock in the depths of the forest of -Montmorency, where they remained eight months. Later, these papers were -given to Eudora. They remained in the family until given to the -Bibliothèque Nationale, where they now are. - -The difficulties under which she wrote were, of course, great. It was -essential that she should elude her guardians. She had no notes. She was -surrounded by a ribald and noisy company. But these disadvantages only -acted as spurs. She took delight in carrying on this forbidden work -under the eyes of her persecutors. So rapidly did she write that in -twenty-four days she produced two hundred pages of manuscript, including -all the early part of her Memoirs. The words seemed to flow from her -pen. The bulky manuscript of seven hundred pages, preserved at the -Bibliothèque Nationale, is a marvel of neatness and firmness. The -grayish pages are filled evenly from margin to margin in her beautiful -characteristic hand, and there is scarcely a blot or erasure, scarcely a -correction, save those made by Bosc, who published the first edition of -the Memoirs in 1795. - -In style, the political writings are always clear and positive; often -they rise to a real eloquence. Written as they were under the force of -the most powerful emotions, unbiassed judgments cannot be expected. She -was defending her husband primarily in this work, and she did it with -the more earnestness and warmth because she felt, as she wrote Buzot, -that this was one way of compensating him for the sorrow she had caused -him. - -Her judgments on men are not always just. Indeed, they cannot be called -judgments, they are simply her feelings towards those persons at the -moment she wrote. Her indignation against the wrongs done her and her -party is so intense that often her tone is irritated, contemptuous, -impatient. The arrangement is not systematic, as, indeed, it was -impossible to be, under the circumstances, and her pen bounds from one -character to another,—from hero to agitator, from apostrophe to -anecdote,—in a sort of reckless, impassioned hurry. The whole gallery of -the Gironde and its opponents, from 1791 to 1793 pass before us, every -one stamped with a positive, definite character. - -That she poses throughout the narrative is unquestionable. It is to -posterity she speaks, and she wished to appear in the eyes of the future -as she believed herself to be,—the apostle of the ideas of liberty, -equality, and fraternity, the incarnation of patriotism, the most -perfect disinterestedness, and the highest fortitude. - -It was Madame Roland’s plan, in writing her personal Memoirs, to cover -her whole life, and to follow Jean Jacques Rousseau’s _Confessions_. -Although the work was never completed, we have the first twenty-five -years. The charm of the narrative is irresistible. Never, even in the -gayest and most natural of her letters to Bosc and Roland, was Madame -Roland’s pen so happy as in these Memoirs of her youth. They sparkle -with mirth and with tenderness. Never did any one appreciate better his -own youth, nor idealize it more lovingly. To her these souvenirs are -radiant pictures, and she sketches them one after another, with a full -appreciation of all their attractiveness. - -Her early masters, her suitors, her youthful enthusiasm, Sophie, the -Convent des Dames de la Congrégation, Meudon, Vincennes, La Blancherie, -her mother, the Salon, river, Luxembourg, her toilettes, duties, -sorrows, joys, the whole flows in a steady, sparkling stream, vivid with -color, pulsating with life. She relives it all, and without reflection -or hesitation pours out everything which comes into her mind. So full -and natural are these Memoirs that they are really the most attractive -material we have of the life of her class in the eighteenth century. - -In all Madame Roland’s dramatic life there is no more attractive picture -than that which the writing of her Memoirs brings up: this splendid, -passionate woman, glorying in her love and her courage, sitting day -after day before the little table in her prison cell, oblivious to the -cries and oaths which rise about her, indifferent to discomfort, -forgetful of everything but the souvenirs which her flying pen records, -and which bring smiles and tears by turn to her mobile face. Here we -have none of the stilted, prepared style of her early writings, none of -the pose of the political memoirs. It is self-complacent, to be sure, -and we feel that she is making herself out to have been a most -extraordinary young girl, but one cannot help forgiving her, she makes -herself out so charming. However, if one is interested in finding out -the woman as she really was, he must not trust too fully to her -interpretations. She was so interested in herself, idealized herself so -thoroughly, was so serious in her self-confidence, so devoid of -self-reproach, that she was oblivious to her own inconsistencies and -inconsequentialities. - -Rousseau’s _Confessions_ were the model of her Memoirs. The result was -that she related some experiences which good sense and taste, not to say -delicacy, ought to have forbidden her to repeat to any one, above all, -to the public. These passages in her Memoirs are due to her slavish -following of Rousseau. She was incapable of exercising an independent -judgment in a matter of taste, of opinion, of morals, where Rousseau was -concerned, so completely had she adopted him. When she came to writing -her life, she dragged to light unimportant and unpleasant details -because Rousseau had had the bad taste to do the same before her. The -naïveté, with which these things are told, will convince any one that -cares to examine the Memoirs that they mean nothing but she had taken -the foolish engagement to tell everything she could remember about her -life. - -[Illustration: - - THE CONCIERGERIE IN 1793. - - Prison where Madame Roland passed the last eight days of her - captivity, and from which she went to the - guillotine. Pont au Change in the foreground. -] - -The Memoirs, as well as her daily life, her letters, her attitude -towards the authorities, show her courage. But they show, too, the -anguish which shook her from time to time. More than once her firm, -brilliant narrative is broken suddenly—the sentence unfinished—to record -some new outrage against her friends, and as she expresses indignantly -her horror and her grief at the usurpers who are ruling France, one can -almost hear the sob which shook her, but to which she would not yield. -Here and there the gray pages of her beautiful manuscript are spotted by -tear stains. Even now, a hundred years and more after it all, one cannot -read them and see how, in spite of her iron will, her splendid courage, -her heart was sometimes so heavy with woe that her tears would fall, -without a choking in the throat and a dimness of the eyes. - -One crisis after another indeed followed throughout her -imprisonment,—the arrest of the Twenty-two; her own release and -rearrest; the pursuit of Buzot; her friends and Roland’s declared -suspect, imprisoned, driven from Paris, sometimes even guillotined -because of their relations to her; the trial in October of the members -of the Gironde; her summons to the trial as a witness, but the failure -to call her,—a call which she had awaited, “as a soul in pain awaits its -liberator,” she said, so did she desire to have the chance to render one -last service to these friends, in whom she believed so strongly, whom -she deemed so trusty; her anxiety for Eudora; the execution in October -of the Twenty-one; above all, her despair for her country, for France, -which permits the dishonor and murder not of “her children, but of the -fathers of her liberty.” - -The saddest phase of this dark side of her imprisonment was the growing -conviction that she and the patriots had been wrong. At last she saw -what she did when in 1791 she spurned the Assembly. She acknowledged now -that she would have disdained the members of the National Assembly less, -if she could have had an idea of their successors. She had learned to -regret Mirabeau, whose death then had seemed to her well both for his -glory and for the cause of liberty. “The counterpoise of a man of that -force was necessary to oppose the crowd of puppets and to preserve us -from the domination of the bandits.” She had learned that men may -profess, but when their interests and ideals are in opposition it is the -former which wins. She had discovered, at last, that to demand speedy -and immediate regeneration of society is to break the laws of the -universe; that to take away from men what the ages have given them is -simply to restore them to the primitive state of teeth and claws, to let -loose the passions the centuries have tamed. She saw that in politics, -in society, in individual relations, the ideal is the inspiration; the -realization, the laborious effort of centuries. She acknowledged that in -Plutarch she glided over the storms of the Republic, “forgot the death -of Socrates, the exile of Aristides, the condemnation of Phocion.” She -was willing at last to say with Sully, “C’est très difficile de faire le -bien de son pays”; to confess that “if it is permitted to politics to do -good through the wicked, or to profit by their excesses, it is -infinitely dangerous to give them the honor of the one, or not to punish -them for the other.” - -Under the pressure of all these woes she sometimes felt her resolution -weaken. What wonder that when she heard, in October, that Buzot and his -friends, now escaped to the Gascogne, were being tracked so closely that -their arrest was sure, she determined to kill herself? “You know the -malady the English call _heart-break_,” she wrote; “I am attacked -hopelessly by it and I have no desire to delay its effects.” It seemed -to her now that it was weak to await the blow of her tyrants—their _coup -de grâce_ she called it—when she could give it to herself. Why should -she allow them to see how bravely she could die—they who were incapable -of understanding her courage? Three months ago a noble public death -might have served for something. To-day it was pure loss. All this she -wrote to Bosc. She consented, however, to accept his decision as to -whether she ought or not to take her own life, charging him to weigh the -question as if it were impersonal. - -This letter to Bosc bears the date of October 25th. On October 31st, the -condemned Girondins were beheaded. On November 1st, Madame Roland, who -because of Bosc’s arguments had abandoned her resolution to suicide, was -conveyed to the Conciergerie, a prison which in those days was but a -transfer to the cart which led to the guillotine. - -But could she not have been saved? She had friends who would have gladly -dared death for her. All Paris knew of her imprisonment—was there no -lover of justice to intercede? Her friends had tried to save her. Buzot -and Roland both contrived many plans; she repulsed them all. They were -too foolhardy to succeed; they might implicate those who would interest -themselves in carrying them out, or perhaps ruin guardians who had been -kind to her—of these she would hear nothing. Her old friend, Henriette -Cannet, then a widow, came from Amiens, succeeded in reaching her in -prison, insisted on changing garments with her and on remaining in her -place. She would not consent; she would rather “suffer a thousand -deaths” than run the risk of causing that of a friend. And then what did -release mean? Merely the taking on of her old chains. “Nothing would -stop me if I braved dangers only to rejoin you,” she wrote Buzot; “but -to expose my friends and to leave the irons with which the wicked honor -me, in order to take on others that no one sees—there is no hurry for -that.” - -Madame Roland, throughout her imprisonment, had hoped for a popular -uprising, a revolt against tyranny, coming from Paris or the -departments, which would release her and her friends. She never got -thoroughly over her illusion that the people, as a mass, were the ones -that were to reconstruct France; never realized fully how the people -are simply a passive unit, asking only to be let alone, to be allowed -to live as they can without interference; that they have no -initiative, that when they act it is because they have been aroused by -leaders working on them systematically, appealing to their wants, -their desires, their reason sometimes, but more often inflaming their -passions. She never appreciated, save dimly, the fact that throughout -the Revolution, so far, the revolt of the people had been prepared by -agitators,—prepared as she and her friends wished to make the 20th of -July, did make the 10th of August. The people know she is imprisoned; -if they reflect at all, they know that probably it is unjust, but they -are cautious. They have seen, ever since the Revolution commenced, -that he who tries to prevent outrage is sure to be the first to be -punished. They have concluded wisely that the only safe plan is to let -the belligerents fight it out, to follow as well as they can their -usual occupations, and to say nothing. The mass of the Parisians go on -as usual. The Terror has become a part of daily discussion, a part of -the city’s spectacles,—that is all. People buy and sell as usual, the -theatres do not close, not even the Sunday promenade is omitted. They -even take advantage of events to give a livelier interest to their -amusements. The theatres, the fairs, the _cafés chantants_, the maker -of songs and engravings, draw their subjects from the quarrels of the -Assembly, the persecutions of the Commune, the events of the prisons -and of the guillotine. They even use it to advertise their wares: The -real estate agents announce, “in the new state of Kentucky, and the -ancient state of Virginia, lands in a country free from despotism and -anarchy.” The potter improves the chance, and turns out plates and -cups and saucers by the thousands, suitable for all the varying tastes -and shades of opinion; there is elegant Sèvres with a _bonnet rouge_ -for the rich patriot; there is a _vive le roi_, with a sceptre, for -the monarchist; there is a guillotine for the bloodthirsty; there is a -coarse and vulgar joke for the ribald. The cloth-maker prints -patriotic scenes on his curtain stuff; the handkerchief-maker -decorates with transcriptions of the _droits des hommes_; the -hat-maker turns out idealized _bonnets rouges_ suitable for the street -or opera; the fan-maker illuminates with king or _sans-culottes_, -according to taste; the very manufacturer of playing-cards takes off -the time-honored king and queen and knave, and replaces them with -heroes, philosophers, and Revolutionary emblems. Cabinet-maker, -jeweller, shoemaker, weaver, all turn the Revolution to account. For -whether justice reign or fall, the world must go on, and while the few -wrestle with the pains of progress, of achievement, of aspiration, the -mass looks on and calculates what effect the struggle will have on the -price of bread. - - - - - XIII - DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE - - -The inmates of the Conciergerie were still shivering under the horror of -the death of the twenty-one Girondins when Madame Roland appeared among -them. Her coming was an event which awakened the liveliest interest. For -eight months she had been the most influential woman in France. She was -the recognized inspiration of the party which had wrecked the monarchy -and established the Republic, which had been conquered by the force it -had called to life. To the majority she was but a name. They all knew -that her death was a foregone conclusion. They felt that she, too, knew -it, and they watched, many of them with curiosity—for numbers of the -inmates were of constitutional and royalist sympathies—for signs of -revolt and of weakness. Never, however, had she been calmer, never more -serene. - -The prisons of Paris were at that time terribly overcrowded and poorly -cared for. It was the custom to confine people together without any -regard to their character or lives. “On the same straw, and behind the -same bars,” writes an inmate, “the Duchesse de Grammont and a -handkerchief thief, Madame Roland and a wretch of the streets, a sister -and a habitué of Salpétrière. The quarrelling and the obscenity were -often terrible. But from the time of her arrival the chamber of Madame -Roland became an asylum of peace in the bosom of this hell. If she -descended into the court, her simple presence restored good order, and -the unhappy women, on whom no known power had longer any influence, were -restrained by the fear of displeasing her. She gave money to the most -needy, and to all counsel, consolation, and hope.” - -Over many of the prisoners she exercised a kind of spell. “I experienced -every day a new charm in listening to her,” says Comte Beugnot, a -fellow-prisoner who, rare thing, escaped to write his memoirs; “less -from what she said than from the magic of her manner.” “We were all -attentive about her in a kind of stupefied admiration,” declares Rioffe. - -The next day after her arrival she was questioned for the first time; -two days later she underwent a second examination. She had gone into the -tribunal in her usual serene way. She came back deeply moved, her eyes -wet. The interrogation was indeed most trying. The questions were so -couched that in answering them honestly she condemned herself. Did she -not entertain Brissot, Barbaroux, Buzot, Pétion, in conference? She must -admit it, and explain the “conference” as she would, the Revolutionary -tribunal used her admission as a confession of a criminal relation. A -letter written to a person, whom she knew but slightly, and who had -tried to secure a reading of her letters to the Convention, was used as -evidence against her. It was useless to declare that she simply tried -through this correspondent to reach the ear of the authorities and to -obtain news of her friends. Her friends have been guillotined as -traitors to the country, or are in open rebellion at this moment, -conspiring for the destruction of the Republic. This person, if he were -a patriot, would not have been in communication with them. If she were -loyal, she would not want news of them. Let her try to explain and they -accuse her of evasion. Roland’s office for creating public opinion was -brought up. Was she not the directress of this pretended Bureau of -Public Opinion, whose end was evidently to attack the doctrines in their -purest source and to bring about the destruction of the Republic by -sowing disorder? It was useless to explain the tame and harmless nature -of this department of Roland’s work—a department established by public -decree; for they accused her of outraging truth when she did, and told -her that everybody knew that the correspondence carried on by the -perfidious minister had for its principal object to bring the -departments to Paris and to spread calumnies against the faithful -representatives of the people. They asked her the whereabouts of Roland, -and when she refused to tell they informed her that she was in rebellion -against the law. - -It was evident, indeed, that whatever she might say was useless. She was -the friend of the Gironde, and the last of the race must be exterminated -just as royalist and _émigré_ had been. The world was being made over, -and all who objected to the transformation and wished to fight for -another order must be put out of the way. There was not room enough in -France any longer for people of different ways of looking at things. - -The night after her second interrogation, Madame Roland wrote a defence -to read before the tribunal, in which she indignantly denied the -accusations against her friends, and declared herself honored to perish -for her fidelity to them. The defence was in her haughtiest, most -uncompromising style, and showed her at the very end as resolute, as -proud, as triumphant, as ever. But this defence was written in the heat -of indignation at her examination, and for the hearing of the judges she -despised. Away from her persecutors, many times during the days which -followed, her strength failed and her fellow-prisoners remarked, almost -with awe, that she had been weeping. The woman who served her told them: -“Before you she collects all her strength, but in her chamber she -remains often hours at a time, leaning against the window, weeping.” - -On the 7th of November, the witnesses against Madame Roland appeared. -There were three of them;—her faithful _bonne_, for thirteen years in -her service, and who during her imprisonment had dared every danger to -be useful to her, a governess of Eudora’s, and a domestic. The weight of -their testimony was simply that the Girondins had frequented the house. - -That night Madame Roland’s lawyer, a courageous young man, -Chauveau-Lagarde by name, who was ambitious to defend her, came to -consult with her. She listened calmly to him and discussed several -points of her defence. When he rose to go she drew a ring from her -finger and, without a word, gave it to him. The young man divined the -farewell. “Madame,” he cried, “we shall see each other to-morrow after -the sentence.” - -“To-morrow I shall not be alive. I know the fate which awaits me. Your -counsels are dear to me, but they might be fatal to you. They would ruin -you without saving me. Let me never know the sorrow of causing the death -of a good man. Do not come to the court, I shall disown you, but accept -the only token my gratitude can offer. To-morrow I shall exist no more.” - -The next day, November 8th, was her trial. When she came out from her -cell to await for her summons to the court, Comte Beugnot joined her. -“She was clad carefully in white muslin, trimmed with blonde and -fastened by a girdle of black velvet.” He says: “Her face seemed to me -more animated than usual. Its color was exquisite and she had a smile on -her lips. With one hand she held up the train of her gown; the other she -had abandoned to a crowd of prisoners who pressed near to kiss it. Those -who understood the fate which awaited her sobbed about her and commended -her to God.... Madame responded to all with affectionate kindness. She -did not promise to return, she did not say she was going to her death, -but her last words to them were touching counsels. She begged them to -have peace, courage, hope, to practise those virtues which are fitting -for misfortune. An old jailer, called Fontenay, whose good heart had -resisted the practice of his cruel trade for thirty years, came to open -the gate for her, weeping. I did my errand with her in the passage. She -answered me in a few words and in a firm tone. She had commenced a -sentence when two jailers from the interior called her to the tribunal. -At this cry, terrible for another than her, she stopped and, pressing my -hand, said: ‘Good-by, sir, let us make peace, it is time.’ Raising her -eyes, she saw that I was struggling violently to keep back my tears. She -seemed moved and added but two words, ‘Have courage.’” - -The accusation waited her. It was a charge of having “wickedly and -designedly participated in a conspiracy against the unity and -indivisibility of the Republic, against the liberty and surety of the -French people, by collecting at her home the principal leaders of this -conspiracy, and carrying on a correspondence with them tending to -facilitate their murderous projects.” She was not allowed to read her -defence, and the judgment was pronounced at once. She was convicted of -being one of the authors, or accomplices, in a “horrible conspiracy -against the unity and indivisibility of the Republic, the liberty and -surety of the French people,” and was sentenced to be punished by death. - -When she came out from the tribunal the cart awaited her in the prison -court. - - -Standing on the Pont au Change and looking down the Seine, is one of -those fascinating river views of Paris where a wealth of associations -disputes with endless charm the attention of the loiterer. The left of -the view is filled by the Norman Towers of the Conciergerie, the façades -of the prison, the irregular fronts of the houses facing on the Quai de -l’Horloge, and ends in an old house of Henry IV.’s time. It is the house -where Manon Phlipon passed her girlhood. When the cart drove across the -Pont au Change, Madame Roland had before her the window from which, as a -girl, she had leaned at sunset, and “with a heart filled with -inexpressible joy, happy to exist, had offered to the Supreme Being a -pure and worthy homage.” - -She faces death now as she faced life then. The girl and the woman, in -spite of the drama between, are unchanged: the same ideals, the same -courage, the same faith. Not even this tragic last encounter with the -home of her youth moves her calm; for she passed the Pont Neuf, writes -one who saw her, “upright and calm,—her eyes shining, her color fresh -and brilliant,—a smile on her lips, trying to cheer her companion, a man -overwhelmed by the terror of approaching death.” - -It was a long and weary jolt in the rough cart from the Pont Neuf, where -M. Tissot saw her passing, “erect and calm,” by the Rue Saint Honoré to -the Place de la Concorde, then Place de la Guillotine. The hideous, -howling crowd followed and cursed her. But nothing earthly could reach -the heights whither she had risen. At the foot of the guillotine, so -tradition goes, she asked for a pen to write the thoughts which had -arisen in this awful journey to death, but it was refused. Sanson, the -headsman, in a hurry, pressed her to mount the short ladder which led to -the platform; for there was a grim guillotine etiquette which gave her -the right to die first, but she asked him to give her place to her -cringing companion and spare him the misery of seeing her die. Sanson -demurred. It was against his orders. “Can you refuse a lady her last -request?” she said, smiling, and he, a little shamefaced, consented. - -Then her turn came. As they fastened her to the fatal plank, her eyes -fell on a colossal statue of liberty erected to celebrate the first -anniversary of the 10th of August. “O liberté,” she cried, “comme on t’a -jouée.” Then the axe dropped, the beautiful head fell; Madame Roland was -dead. - - - - - XIV - THOSE LEFT BEHIND - - -Madame Roland was dead, but she had left behind the three beings dearest -and closest to her,—her husband, her child, and her lover. - -Roland fled from Paris, as we have seen, on the night of May 31st. He -succeeded in reaching Amiens, where he had lived many years and where he -had many friends; but though more than one home was opened to him the -surveillance of the Mountain was such that he thought it wise to leave -the town. From Amiens he went westward to Rouen, where he easily found -shelter. He was here on June 22d, when Madame Roland wrote her first -letter to Buzot. The life he led there was miserable in the extreme. He -constantly feared to be arrested; he felt that he was jeopardizing the -lives of his hosts by his presence; he fretted under the contempt and -false accusations which the Mountain continued to rain upon him; and, -above all, he was tortured by his inability to do anything to insure the -future of his child or to effect the release of his wife. - -This anxiety had not grown less with time. The events of the summer and -the fall of 1793 only increased day by day his misery and apprehension. -The news of the death of the twenty-one Girondins in October seemed to -turn to bitterness the last drop of his hope. A heavier blow awaited -him. That happened which must have seemed to his simple soul the -impossible,—his wife was guillotined. When the fatal word reached him, -she had been dead for several days. As the news was given him he fell, -stricken with a blessed unconsciousness. When he recovered himself, his -distress was so great that he resolved to put an end to his days. In -vain did the friends who had sheltered and cared for him all these -months urge him to give up his resolution. He would not listen to them, -but with perfect serenity laid before them two plans which he felt he -might follow. The first savored strongly of Madame Roland’s influence: -it was to go _incognito_ to Paris, appear in the Convention, make an -unexpected speech in which he should tell them the truths he felt they -ought to hear, and then ask them to kill him on the guillotine where his -wife had lost her life. The second was to kill himself. - -[Illustration: - - ROLAND DE LA PLATIÈRE. - - From a drawing by Gabriel. -] - -One consideration alone deterred him from carrying out his first plan. -The property of persons guillotined was confiscated by the State. If he -should die in this manner, Eudora would be left penniless, and Roland -abandoned the idea. There remained nothing for him but suicide. On the -evening of November 15th, he bade his friends good-by, and left Rouen by -the route to Paris. About four leagues from Rouen, in the hamlet of -Baudoin, he left the highway, entered the roadway leading to a private -house, seated himself on the ground on the edge of the avenue, and -deliberately ran a cane-sword into his breast. His death must have been -immediate; for passers-by, next morning, seeing him there leaning -against a tree, thought he was sleeping. When the truth was discovered, -a deputy from the Convention, who happened to be at Rouen, went at once -to the spot and took possession of the papers on his person. The only -one of importance was a note which ran: - -“Whoever finds me lying here, let him respect my remains. They are those -of a man who died as he lived, virtuous and honest. - -“The day is not far distant when you will have to bear a terrible -judgment; await that day; you will act then in full knowledge of causes, -and you will understand the meaning of this advice. - -“May my country soon abhor these crimes and return to humanity and -kindliness.” - -On another fold of the paper was written: - - “_Not fear, but Indignation._ - -“I left my refuge as soon as I heard that my wife had been murdered. I -desire to remain no longer in a world covered with crime.” - - -Eudora Roland, born October 7, 1781, was twelve years old at the time of -her mother’s death. Separated the night of the arrest, the two never saw -each other again. Happily, there were warm and faithful friends ready to -take care of her as soon as her serious situation was known. Bosc, who -throughout Madame Roland’s imprisonment showed himself of the most -fearless and tender devotion, went to the apartment in the Rue de la -Harpe soon after the arrest, and took the little girl to the home of a -member of the Convention, Creuzé-la-Touche. Here she remained until a -few days before her mother’s death. Then it became evident that, in -sheltering Eudora, Madame Creuzé-la-Touche was compromising the safety -of her family, and she was compelled to place her charge in a _pension_. -She was not received there, even, until her name had been changed. All -this was a great grief to Madame Roland in her last days. She understood -only too well now that her child was in danger of suffering her own -fate. She wrote an anxious letter to “the person charged with the care -of my daughter,” and to Eudora herself she wrote a courageous adieu: - -“I do not know, my little girl,” she wrote, “that I shall ever see or -write to you again. REMEMBER YOUR MOTHER, that is the best thing I can -say to you. You have seen me happy in doing my duty and in serving those -who were suffering. There is no better life. - -“You have seen me tranquil in misfortune and captivity. I could be so -because I had no remorse, and only pleasant memories of the good I had -done. Nothing else can sustain one in the sorrows of life. Perhaps you -will never experience trials like mine, but you must prepare for others. -A busy, active life is the best safeguard against danger, and necessity, -as well as wisdom, will compel you to work seriously. - -“Be worthy of your parents. They leave you a noble example. If you -follow them, you will not live in vain. - -“Farewell, dear child. I nursed you at my breast. I would inspire you -with my aspirations. The day will come when you will understand the -effort I am making to be strong as I think of your sweet face. - -“Would that I could fold you to my breast! - -“Adieu, my Eudora.” - -It was Madame Roland’s last letter to her child. Bosc, who had been -allowed to visit her twice a week throughout the fall, was now forbidden -to see her. Letters had to be smuggled in and out of the prison, and she -soon ceased to have any trustworthy news of her loved ones. Six days -after the above letter, she wrote to Bosc: - -“My poor little one! Where is she? Tell me, I beg of you. Give me some -details that I may picture her to myself in her new surroundings.” - -It was too late. In less than a week after this letter she was in the -Conciergerie. - -After the death of M. and Madame Roland, Eudora was taken in charge by -Bosc, who, in 1795, published the first edition of Madame Roland’s -Memoirs, to help in her support. Legend has it that Bosc even wanted to -marry the child. Later a marriage was arranged for her with a brother of -Champagneux of Lyons, the old friend of the Rolands. - -After the Revolution, Madame Champagneux recovered her father’s -property, and Le Clos, the family estate, near Villefranche, came into -her possession. This property is still in the family, being owned by one -of Madame Champagneux’s granddaughters, Madame Cécile Marillier of -Paris. - -All of the papers of Madame Roland, which had been confided to Bosc, -were given by him to Eudora, and she seems to have experienced a certain -resentment towards her mother when she found that she had told posterity -so frankly that her only child lacked in depth of sentiment and keenness -of intellect. This feeling only intensified her admiration for her -father, and when Lamartine’s _History of the Girondins_ appeared, she -was deeply indignant at the way in which he belittled M. Roland in order -to make the figure of Madame Roland more brilliant. It was with the hope -that Lamartine’s influence could be counteracted, that she urged a -friend, a grand-nephew of Bosc, M. P. Faugère by name, to take -possession of all the family papers, and prepare a work which would -justify the memory of Roland. M. Faugère was already busy with a new -edition of the Memoirs, but he promised Madame Champagneux to do the -work on M. Roland as soon as that was finished. The Memoirs he -completed, and his edition is by far the best published; but though he -began the study of Roland he died before finishing it. The family papers -remained in the possession of Madame Faugère, who, in 1888, turned over -the most important of them to the Bibliothèque Nationale. - -Madame Champagneux lived to be nearly seventy-seven years old, dying in -Paris July 19, 1858. The last years of her life were clouded by the -death of one of her daughters, a loss from which she is said never fully -to have recovered. - - -Of the three left behind, the fate of Buzot was saddest. At the moment -that he escaped to Evreux, the northwest departments felt that the -Convention had been coerced into the decree against the Gironde and -there was a general revolt against the tyranny of Paris. Buzot and his -friends who had escaped decided, on sounding this feeling, that it was -sufficiently wide-spread and profound to justify them in undertaking a -campaign against the Convention and in favor of federalism. Buzot began -by speaking in the cathedral at Evreux and here he was joined by Pétion, -Barbaroux, and Louvet. The agitators were not long unmolested. The -Convention turned its fiercest anathemas against the “traitors,” as it -called them, and the Revolutionary authorities of the northwest were -ordered to crush them. At first they fled into Brittany, evidently -hoping to find a vessel there for America, but disappointed in this, -they made their way to Gascogne, where one of their number had friends. - -While Buzot was escaping, the patriotic saviours of their country were -exhausting themselves in fantastic efforts to show their hatred of his -“treason.” His house was demolished amid civic rejoicings. His effigy -was burned and riddled with bullets in the process. On the walls near -his residence could be still read a few years ago an inscription written -in the excitement. - - “Buzot le scélérat trahit la liberté; - Pour ce crime infâme, il sera decapité.” - -This effectual and dignified way of dealing with a political opponent -reached its climax on December 30, 1793, when Evreux held a fête of -rejoicing over the recapture of Toulon. The cathedral in which, six -months before, Buzot had spoken had become a “temple of reason and -philosophy.” On the altars were the busts of Marat, Lepelletier, and -Brutus, where once were the forms of Virgin and Child and peaceable -saint. The latter had been transferred to the Place de la Fédération, -where, together with effigies of Buzot and other local celebrities who -had refused to believe and vote as the authorities desired, they were -burned. - -In the mean time Buzot had escaped to Saint Émilion, where, for some -three months, he and his friends were concealed. They busied themselves, -when their places of hiding permitted it, with writing their memoirs. -Buzot discussed his political career and made a violent, often -vindictive, attack on his opponents. There is no direct avowal, in his -work, of his love for Madame Roland, but one feels throughout the -despairing, passionate passages the struggling of a great emotion, -stifled, but not dead. It is said that when the news of Madame Roland’s -death reached Buzot, his friends thought he had gone mad, and it was -many days before the violence of his grief was calmed. - -At the beginning of 1794 the refugees were obliged to change asylums, -and went to the house of a hair-dresser in Saint Émilion, where they -stayed until June of that year. At that time, however, the Revolutionary -authorities of Bordeaux decided that they were not doing their whole -duty in saving the country, and began a house-to-house search throughout -the department. Buzot, with his friends, Pétion and Barbaroux, were -forced to fly. After days of fatigue and fear and hunger, the end came. -Barbaroux, thinking he was discovered, attempted to shoot himself, but -succeeded only in wounding himself, and was captured. - -Just how death came to Buzot no one knows; for when his body was found -it lay beside that of Pétion in a wheat-field, half-eaten by wolves. - -In unconscious irony the peasants have since called the field the _champ -des émigrés_. - - - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY - - - Appel à l’impartiale postérité. Par la citoyenne Roland, femme du - ministre de l’intérieur. 1795. - - Œuvres de J. M. Ph. Roland, femme de l’ex-ministre de l’intérieur. - 1800. 3 vols. - - Mémoires de Madame Roland, avec une notice sur sa vie. Par MM. - Berville et Barrière. 1820. 2 vols. - - Mémoires de Madame Roland. Par Ravenel. 1840. 2 vols. - - Lettres inédites de Mademoiselle Phlipon. Adressées aux demoiselles - Cannet. Par M. Auguste Breuil. 1841. - - Mémoires particuliers de Madame Roland. Par M. François Barrière. - 1855. 1 vol. - - Mémoires de Madame Roland, écrits durant sa captivité. Par M. P. - Faugère. 1864. 2 vols. - - Mémoires de Madame Roland. Par C. A. Dauban. - - Lettres de Madame Roland (Mademoiselle Phlipon) aux demoiselles - Cannet. Par C. A. Dauban. 1867. 2 vols. - - Étude sur Madame Roland et son temps, suivie des lettres de Madame - Roland à Buzot. Par C. A. Dauban. 1864. - - Lettres autographes adressées à Bancal des Issarts. Publiées par - Henriette des Issarts et précédées d’une introduction par - Sainte-Beuve. 1836. - - Papiers de M. et Madame Roland, Nouvelles acquisitions françaises, - Bibliothèque Nationale. 4 vols. In this collection are over 250 - unpublished letters of Madame Roland, a large number by Roland, a - voluminous academic and political correspondence, many - communications to the academies, the documents for establishing - the genealogy of the Roland family, and many other papers. - - Manuscript contributed to the Academy of Lyons by Roland. Now in the - library of the Academy at Lyons. - - Published Reports of the Academy of Lyons. 1785–1790. - - Lettres écrites de Suisse, d’Italie, de Sicile, et de Malte. Par M. ... - à Mademoiselle ... à Paris, en 1776, 1777 et 1778. 1782. 6 vols. - - Dictionnaires des Manufactures des Arts et des Métiers in the - Encyclopédie Méthodique. 4 vols. By Roland. - - Madame Roland. By Mathilde Blind. 1886. - - Four Frenchwomen. By Henry Austin Dobson. 1890. - - Tableau de Paris. Par Mercier. 1783–1789. - - Le Nouveau Paris. Par Mercier. 6 vols. 1795. - - Paris tel qu’il était avant la Révolution. Par M. Thiéry. An IV. - - État ou Tableau de la ville de Paris. Par de Jéze. 1761. - - Dictionnaire historique de la ville de Paris et de ses environs. Par - Hurtant et Magry. 1779. - - Tableaux des Mœurs. 1600–1880. Par Paul Lacombe. 1887. - - L’an 1789. Par Hippolyte Gautier. 1888. - - Paris en 1789. Par Albert Babeau. 1890. - - La vie privée d’autrefois. Par A. Franklin. 17 vols. 1887–1895. - - Mémoires inédits de M^{me} de Genlis. 1825. 10 vols. - - Mémoires de M^{me} d’Épinay. - - La femme au XVIII^{me} Siècle. Par Edmond et Jules de Goncourt. 1874. - 2 vols. - - L’Éducation des femmes par les femmes. Par Octave Gréard. 1887. - - L’Art du XVIII^{me} Siècle. Par Edmond et Jules de Goncourt. 1874. 2 - vols. - - Causeries du Lundi. Par Sainte-Beuve. - - Études sur la littérature contemporaine. Par Edmond Scherer. - - Extrait du journal de mes voyages. 1776. 2 vols. Par Pahin de la - Blancherie. - - Nouvelles de la République des lettres et des arts. 8 vols. 1779–1787. - Par Pahin de la Blancherie. - - Émile—Les Confessions—La Nouvelle Héloïse—Contrat social. Par J. J. - Rousseau. - - Histoire Parlementaire. Par Buchez et Roux. 32 vols. - - L’Esprit public au XVIII^{me} Siècle. Par Charles Aubertin. 1872. - - L’Esprit Révolutionnaire avant la Revolution. Par Felix Rocquain. - - Les causes financières de la Révolution française. Par Charles Gomel. - 1893. - - De l’administration Provinciale et de la réforme de l’impôt. Par - Letrosne. 1779. - - Le Paysan sous l’Ancien Régime. Par Ferdinand Brunetière. Revue des - Deux Mondes. Avril, 1883. - - La Vie Rurale dans l’Ancienne France. Par Albert Babeau, 1883. - - Procés verbaux de l’assemblée provinciale de Lyon. 1787. - - Lettres de l’intendant du Lyonnais pendant 1780–1789. - - Cahiers du Tiers État, de la noblesse, et du clergé de Lyon aux États - Généraux, 1789. - - Almanach Royal de France. - - Almanach National de France. - - Dr. Rigby’s Letters from France in 1789. - - Procés Verbaux. Assemblée Nationale, 1789–1791. 76 vols. - - Letters written in France. H. M. Williams. 1796. - - Histoire littéraire de la Convention Nationale. Par E. Maron. 1860. - - L’eloquence parlementaire pendant la Révolution française. Par F. A. - Aulard. 1885–1886. 2 vols. - - Catalogue d’une collection d’ouvrages historiques sur la Révolution - française. Par E. Gonon. - - Les Origines de la France contemporaine. Par A. Taine. 1878–1885. 3 - vols. - - Considérations sur les principaux événements de la Révolution - française. Par Madame la baronne de Staël. 1843. - - Letters and Speeches of Thomas Paine during the French Revolution. - - Diary and Letters of Gouverneur Morris. 1888. 2 vols. - - Mémoires et correspondance (de Mallet du Pan) pour servir à l’histoire - de la Révolution française. 1851. 2 vols. - - Histoire de la société française pendant la Révolution. Par Edmond et - Jules de Goncourt. 1854. - - De l’autorité de Rabelais dans la révolution présente et dans la - constitution civile du clergé. Par Pierre Louis Ginguené. 1791. - - La démagogie en 1793 à Paris. Charles Aimé Dauban. 1868. - - Souvenirs sur les deux premières assemblées. Par E. Dumont. - - Mémoires sur la Révolution. Par D. J. Garat. 1795. - - J. P. Brissot député du département d’Eure et Loire à ses commettans, - sur la situation de la Convention Nationale, sur l’influence des - anarchistes, et les maux qu’elle a causés, sur la nécessité - d’anéantir cette influence pour sauver la République. 1794. - - Histoire Musée de la République française depuis l’Assemblée des - notables jusqu’à l’empire. Avec les estampes, médailles, - caricatures, portraits historiques et autographes remarquables du - temps. Par Jean Challamel. 2 vols. 1842. - - La société des Jacobins, Recueil de documents pour l’histoire du club - des Jacobins de Paris. Par. F. A. Aulard. 1889–1895. 5 vols. - - Journal d’un bourgeois de Paris pendant la Terreur. Par Edmond Biré. - 1884. - - Légendes révolutionnaires. Par Edmond Biré. 1893. - - Mémoires du comte Beugnot, ancien ministre (1783–1815). Publiés par le - comte Albert Beugnot. 1868. 2 vols. - - Englishmen in the French Revolution, 1789–1795. By John G. Alger. - 1889. - - Glimpses of the French Revolution. By John G. Alger. 1894. - - Le culte de la Raison et le culte de l’Être Suprême. Par F. A. Aulard. - 1892. - - Études et leçons sur la Révolution française. Par F. A. Aulard. - - Dumouriez. Vie et Mémoires. 1822. 4 vols. - - Mémoires inédits de Pétion et Mémoires de Buzot et de Barbaroux. Par - C. A. Dauban. 1866. - - Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins. Par Charles Vatel. 1864–1872. - - Histoire de la faction de la Gironde. Par Camille Desmoulins. - - Les Girondins, leur vie privée, leur vie publique, leur proscription - et leur mort. Joseph Guadet. 2 vols. 1861. - - Recherches historiques sur les Girondins. Par Charles Vatel. 2 vols. - - Histoire des Girondins et des Massacres de Septembre. A. de Granier de - Cassagnac. 1860. 2 vols. - - Protestation contre le livre intitulé Histoire des Girondins et des - Massacres de Septembre. Par Joseph Guadet. 1860. - - La Légende des Girondins. Par E. Biré. 1881. - - Histoire des Girondins. Par A. de Lamartine. 1847. 8 vols. - - La Grande Encyclopédie. Vol. 18. Les Girondins. Par H. Monin. - - Les ministres de la République Française. Roland et Madame Roland. Par - le Baron de Girardot. 1860. - - Histoire de Lyon et des anciennes provinces du Lyonnais. Par Eug. - Fabrier. 1846. 2 vols. - - Almanach de la ville de Lyon et des provinces du Lyonnais. Par Forez - et Beaujolais. 1784–86. - - Histoire de Villefranche. Par Hippolyte Laplatte. - - Bibliographie Historique de la ville de Lyon. Par Gonon. 1845. - - Histoire de Lyon. Par Ballydier. - - Histoire du commerce de l’industrie des fabriques de Lyon. Par C. - Beaulieu. 1838. - - Histoire de la ville de Lyon pendant la Révolution. Par l’Abbe Guillou - de Montléon. - - Les premières années de la Révolution à Lyon. Par Maurice Wahl. 1894. - - - NEWSPAPERS - - Courrier de Lyon. - - Le Patriote Français. - - Moniteur Universel. - - Le Gardien de la Constitution. - - L’Ami du Peuple. - - Journal de la République Française. - - La Sentinelle. - - Mercure de France. - - Le Père Duchèsne. - - - POLITICAL PAMPHLETS - - Correspondance du ministre de l’intérieur Roland avec le Général - Lafayette. - - Lettre au Roi. - - Lettre de Junius à Roland. - - Lettre à M. Roland. - - Lettres sur le ministère de Roland. - - Rapport relatif au 20 Juin. - - Adresse au peuple français. - - Ni Marat ni Roland. Opinion d’Anarcharsis Cloots. 1792. - - Réponses au Prussien Cloots par Roland, Kersaint, Guadet, et Brissot. - - L’ex-ministre de l’intérieur au président de la Convention Nationale. - - Observations de l’ex-ministre Roland sur le rapport fait contre lui - par le député Brival. - - Lettres et pièces intéressantes pour servir à l’histoire des ministres - de Roland, de Servan et de Clavière. - - Conversations et correspondance de M. Champy avec M. Roland. - - À M. Roland de la Platière sur sa “Lettre au Roi,” 17 Juillet, 1792. - - Almanach des Bizarreries Humaines. Par J. C. Bailleul. 1889. - - - - - INDEX - - - Abbaye, Madame Roland imprisoned in the, 261 _et seq._ - - Antoine, 145. - - Assembly, National, see National Assembly. - - - Barbaroux, and the Rolands, their plans, 202–205, 206; - his fate, 309–311. - - Beaumarchais, his _Figaro_ first given, 85; - quoted, 121. - - Beugnot, Comte, his words concerning Madame Roland in prison, 296, 299. - - Buzot, François-Nicolas-Léonard, at the home of the Rolands, 145; - Madame Roland’s passion for, 224, 225; - his early career, 226, 227; - attracts Madame Roland, 227; - his nature, 228; - correspondence with Madame Roland, 228, 230; - his wife not his equal, 227, 230; - his personal attractions, 231, 232; - his love for Madame Roland, 230, 234, 242–244; - his relations toward M. Roland, 244; - his struggle against the Mountain party, 247–249; - his opinion of Danton and Robespierre, 247, 249; - in harmony with M. Roland, 249; - his efforts to prove his patriotism, 250; - could not approve the Terrorists, 250, 251; - his relations with the Rolands well understood, 251; - characterized by Marat as _frère tranquille_, 251; - his words on the Republic, 255–257; - flees from Paris to Evreux, 262, 263; - Madame Roland’s letters to, from prison, 274–280; - his last days and death, 309–311. - - - Cannet, Henriette, offers to take Madame Roland’s place in prison, 292. - - Cannet, Sophie, Manon Phlipon’s friendship with, 12–15. - - Cercle Social, the, patriotic club, 142, 143. - - Chalier, sent home to Lyons by Roland “with honors,” 211. - - Champagneux, M., starts the _Courrier de Lyon_, 128; - in constant correspondence with the Rolands, 155; - arrested, 284. - - Champagneux, brother of above, husband of Eudora Roland, 98, 308. - - Champ-de-Mars, the massacre of, 162, 163. - - Chauveau-Lagarde, ambitious to defend Madame Roland in her trial, 299. - - Clavière, at the home of the Rolands, 145–147. - - Commune, the, 208; - and M. Roland, 212, 213; - vigorous action of, 212. - - Conciergerie, Madame Roland imprisoned in the, 292, 295, 296. - - Condorcet, his pamphlet on “Whether a king is necessary to the - conservation of energy,” 159. - - Constitution, the, formed by the Assembly and accepted by Louis XVI., - 168, 169. - - Constitutionalist party, the, 174. - - Convention, National, see National Assembly. - - Conversation, French, character of, 147, 148. - - Creuzé-la-Touche, shelters Eudora Roland, 306. - - - Dames de la Congrégation de Notre Dame, Convent, Manon Phlipon at, 9 - _et seq._; - instruction given at, 10. - - Danton, at the head of the insurrectionary element, 205, 206, 214; - Madame Roland’s antipathy to, 214–217; - the only mediator between the Gironde and the Mountain parties, 215; - his brutality, 217, 222; - “the one man who could support the Gironde, save the King and his - country,” 223; - his words concerning Madame Roland, 245; - Buzot’s opinion of, 247, 249. - - Desmoulins, Camille, his inability to understand the general admiration - for Madame Roland, 151, 152, 206. - - Dumas, Mathieu, his words on the publication of Roland’s letter to the - King, 198. - - Dumont, his comment on Madame Roland’s persuading her husband to - publish his letter to the King, 198. - - Dumouriez, General, Madame Roland’s distrust of, 181, 182; - Roland made overtures to, 223. - - - _Encyclopédie méthodique_, M. Roland’s contributions to, 76, 77. - - - Faugère, M. P., and the Roland Memoirs, 308, 309. - - Feuillants, the, 176, 189, 201. - - Financial errors of the French government, 113–117, 121, 122. - - France, financial errors of the government, 113–117, 121, 122. - - - Garaud, 146. - - Garran, 145. - - Genlis, Madame de, her lack of knowledge at twelve, 10. - - Gironde, the party of the, character and principles of, 171–176; - Madame de Staël’s words concerning, 173; - its attitude toward the Mountain and constitutionalist parties, - 174–176; - the Girondin ministry, 178; - join the Jacobins, 205; - struggle between the Mountain party and, 255; - expulsion and trial of twenty-two members of, 259; - twenty-one executed, 290. - - Gluck, his _Danaïdes_ first given, 85. - - Grandpré, his assistance to Madame Roland in prison, 269, 270. - - Grégoire, 146. - - Greuze, Manon Phlipon’s visit to, 57, 58. - - Guillon de Montléon, Abbé, his words concerning M. Roland, 91; - his words concerning Madame Roland, 150, 151. - - - Hannaches, Mademoiselle d’, and Manon Phlipon, 19, 20. - - Heinsius, his portrait of Madame Roland, 152, 153. - - - Insurrection, party of the, 205–207. - - - Jacobins, too conservative for the Rolands, 143; - the Girondins join, 205. - - - Lafayette, Marquis de, 157, 200. - - Lanthenas, and the Rolands, 127, 128, 216, 233, 237. - - Le Clos, the country home of M. and Madame Roland, 94 _et seq._; - amusements at, 101; - Madame Roland’s life at, 99–111. - - Louis Noailles, 145. - - Louise, Madame, sister of Louis XVI., did not know her alphabet at - twelve, 10. - - Louis XVI., appears with Marie Antoinette in the National Assembly, - 129, 130; - his flight and return, 156–159; - “worse than a stick in a wheel,” 158; - efforts to secure a trial of, 161, 162; - accepts the constitution, 168; - names a cabinet to suit the Girondins, 178; - Madame Roland doubts the good faith of, 183; - hesitates to sign measure to raise army for protection of Paris - against foreign attack, 189; - Roland’s letter to, concerning the public perils, 190–199; - his words to Roland concerning the letter, 197; - the red cap placed on his head in the riot of the 20th of June, 200. - - Lyons, M. and Madame Roland at, 91–93; - M. Roland’s manuscripts in the archives of the Academy of, 92, 93; - disorders in, 134–137; - rumors of a Prussian and Austrian invasion, 137; - the Rolands detested in, 138; - its devotion to the aristocracy, 165. - - - Mandat, murdered, 208. - - Marat, joins the Commune, 212; - his character, 218; - and M. Roland, 218, 219; - attacks M. and Madame Roland in his journal, 222, 223; - his words concerning Buzot, 251; - his characterization of Madame Roland, 252. - - Marie Antoinette, her appearance in the National Assembly, 129, 130; - her flight, 156. - - Mesmer-study, 85. - - Mirabeau, Madame Roland’s words concerning, 290. - - Morris, Gouverneur, quoted, 163; - his words concerning the attitude of affairs in Paris, 177. - - Mountain party, the, its character, 174–176; - M. Roland’s struggle against, 247; - Buzot’s struggle against, 247–249; - struggle of the Gironde party with, 255. - - - National Assembly, the, 124; - King and Marie Antoinette appear in, 129, 130; - Madame Roland’s dissatisfaction with, 129–131, 138–142; - M. Roland a deputy to, 138; - measure to raise army to protect Paris against attack of foreigners, - voted by, 189; - Roland’s letter to the King presented to the, 197–199; - Madame Roland appears before the Convention, 253; - struggle in, between the Mountain and Gironde parties, 255; - expulsion and trial of members of the Gironde, 259; - Madame Roland’s letter to, from prison, 269, 270. - - Noailles, Louis, 145. - - Notre Dame des Marais, the Gothic church at Villefranche, 88. - - _Nouvelle Héloïse_, Rousseau’s, its influence on Manon Phlipon, 32–35. - - - Paine, Thomas, at the home of the Rolands, 146; - forms a republican society in Paris, 159. - - Paris, gold and silver smiths in the western end of, 1; - measure to guard the city against attack of foreigners, 188 _et - seq._, 201; - life in, during the Revolution, 293, 294. - - Pétion, at the home of the Rolands, 145; - a Girondin, 171; - counsels calm, 205, 208; - his fate, 309–311. - - Phlipon, Madame, mother of Manon Phlipon, her character, 3; - her control over her daughter, 5; - her death, 31. - - Phlipon, Marie-Jeanne, called Manon, afterwards Madame Roland, her - parents, 2–6; - her birth, 5; - her character as a child, 5, 6; - early reading and education, 6 _et seq._; - effect of _Plutarch’s Lives_ on, 7, 8; - her religions zeal, 9; - enters the convent, Dames de la Congrégation de Notre Dame, 9, 10; - her life and work there, 10–14; - her friendship with Sophie Cannet, 12–15; - her piety, 11, 12; - her letters to Sophie Cannet, 14, 15; - her secret resolve to return to convent life, 15; - her dislike for the vanities of life, 16, 17, 20, 21; - her love of nature, 17; - Meudon her favorite spot, 17; - her visit to Madame de Boismorel, 18, 19; - her early contempt for the social conditions, 19–21; - a secretary to Mademoiselle d’Hannaches, 20; - makes an eight-day visit to Versailles, 21; - her description of her impressions there, 22; - her attitude toward the King and government at twenty years of age, - 22–24; - prefers a republic, 22, 23; - her reading after leaving the convent, 24–26; - her _cahiers_, 26; - deeply interested in philosophy, 26, 27; - studies Christian dogma severely and rationally, 27, 28; - her mental and spiritual condition, 28–30; - the influence of Rousseau’s _Nouvelle Héloïse_ on, 31–35; - her words concerning Rousseau and his works, 34, 35; - her notions of a future husband, 35–38; - applicants for her hand, 35, 36; - her love affair with Pahin de la Blancherie, 38–44; - her _Loisirs_, 40, 58; - her interest in Sainte-Lettre, 44, 45; - refuses M. de Sévelinges, 46, 47; - her interest in Roland de la Platière, 45, 52, 53; - her interest in M. Pittet, 54; - the dulness of her life, 54; - her visit to Rousseau, 55, 56; - her visit to Greuze, 57, 58; - her relations with her father, 58, 59; - conceals from Sophie Cannet her feeling for Roland de la Platière, - 60; - Platonic arrangement with Roland, 61; - correspondence between Roland and, 61–69; - difficulty with her father in her betrothal to M. Roland, 67–69; - leaves her father, and retires to the convent, 69, 70; - marries Roland, 71; - her account in her Memoirs of the courtship and marriage, 71, 72. - See Roland, Madame. - - Phlipon, Pierre Gatien, his engraving shop, 2, 3; - his character, 3, 4; - his home life and family, 4, 5; - displeased with Pahin de la Blancherie, 40; - his relations toward his daughter, 58, 59; - grows dissipated, 68; - his attitude toward M. Roland, 68, 69; - death, 140. - - Pittet, M., Manon Phlipon’s interest in, 54. - - _Plutarch’s Lives_, effect of, on Manon Phlipon, 7, 8. - - - Rebecqui, 202. - - Republic, excitement at the name of, 158–160; - not welcomed by the people, 161. - - _Republican_, the, journal, 159, 160. - - Robespierre, at home of the Rolands, 145; - his words concerning a Republic, 160, 161; - criminal accuser, 171; - in open rupture with the Girondins, 189; - joins the Commune, 212, 221, 222; - Buzot’s opinion of, 247, 249. - - Revolution, the French, the Rolands welcomed, 112 _et seq._; - preliminary outbreaks of, 117–120; - the word _révolution_ long used in private, 118; - call for States-General in 1788, 123; - the fall of the Bastille, 124; - disorders in Lyons, 134–137; - rumors of a Prussian and Russian invasion, 137; - the Revolutionary temper, 149; - the flight and return of the king, 156–159; - the massacre of the Champ-de-Mars, 162, 163; - disorders and riots everywhere, 183, 184; - the riot of the 20th of June, 199, 200; - the insurrectionary element organizing, 206, 207; - the Commune, 208, 212, 213; - the September massacres, 219–222; - the execution of the twenty-one Girondins, 290; - the daily life of Parisians during, 293, 294. - - Roland, Eudora, daughter of Madame Roland, born, 75; - her husband Champagneux receives “conscience money,” 98; - her education by her mother, 102; - her life, 305–309; - her resentment toward her mother and admiration for her father, 308. - - Roland, the _chanoine_, brother of M. Roland, 89, 140. - - Roland, Madame, first year of married life, 73–75; - at Amiens, 75; - her child, 75; - helping her husband on the _Encyclopédie_, 77; - absorbed in her domestic life, 78; - her efforts in Paris to secure a title for her husband, 79–84; - secures for her husband the position of inspector at Lyons, 84; - her correspondence with her husband while in Paris, 85, 86; - interest in Mesmerism, 85; - returns to Amiens, 85, 86; - trip to England, 86; - life at Villefranche-sur-Saône, 87 _et seq._; - her relations toward M. Roland’s mother and brother, 89, 90; - in correspondence with Bosc, 90; - not pleased with and not popular at Villefranche, 90, 91; - not pleased with Lyons, 92; - home life at Le Clos, 94, 99–111; - education of her daughter, 102; - her letters on Rousseau’s _Julie_ and the education of children, - 103–108; - her devotion to her husband unabated during life at Le Clos, 108, - 109; - her trip to Switzerland, 109, 110; - a sympathetic witness of preliminary outbreaks of the Revolution, - 112, 117 _et seq._; - cramped for money after marriage, 120; - her idea of “complete regeneration” of social affairs, 124, 125; - her political convictions and plan of action, 125–133; - her influence over her husband and friends, 126–129; - her words after the fall of the Bastille, 129; - concerning the King’s and Marie Antoinette’s appearance in the - National Assembly, 129, 130; - displeased with the constitution, 130; - her firmness, 132; - detested in Lyons, 138; - her dissatisfaction with the National Assembly, 129–131, 138–142; - goes up to Paris, 138, 140; - her irritation at the aristocrats, 142; - gives up going to theatres, and goes to political clubs, 142, 143; - her words concerning Jacobins, 143; - her esteem for Brissot, 145; - her comments on the discussions of patriots that gathered at her - house, 146–148; - her words on the necessity of uniting efforts, 148, 149; - her supremacy over group of patriots around her, 149, 150; - her inflexibility, 150; - her personal charms, 150–152; - the portraits of, 152–154; - her joy at the flight of the King, 156, 157; - her words on the return of the King, 158; - endeavors to secure a trial of the King, 161, 162; - she loses heart, and returns from Paris to Villefranche, 164; - her disgust with Lyons, 165; - her disappointment in her child, 166; - decides to return to Paris, 166, 167; - her ideal of government unsatisfied, 169, 170; - her supreme confidence in herself, 170; - considered herself better than her husband, 170; - her feeling against the old régime, 170; - her attitude on her return to Paris, 176, 177; - her life and habits after her husband entered the Ministry of the - Interior, 179, 180; - her influence in choosing persons for positions in the department, - 180, 181; - her mistrust of General Dumouriez and others, 181, 182; - doubts the good faith of the King, 183; - her measures to meet perils threatening Paris, 188 _et seq._; - she writes letter to the King concerning the perils, 190; - persuades her husband to publish the letter to the King, 197, 198; - meets Barbaroux, 201, 202; - her plan carried, 210; - her antipathy to Danton, 214–217; - her words concerning Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, 221, 222; - her disgust at the brutal turn of affairs in the Revolution, 222; - attacked by Marat, 222, 223; - would not compromise with the insurrectionary force, 223, 225; - her passion for Buzot, 224, 225, 227–244; - her first interest in Buzot, 227, 228; - her correspondence with Buzot, 228–230; - her disillusionment in regard to the Revolution, 230, 231; - her hope in Buzot, 231; - attracted by Buzot’s personal charms, 231, 232; - the waning of her affection for her husband and of her friendship - with Bosc, Lanthenas, and Bancal, 233; - her notions of duty and devotion, 234; - her relations with various friends during her life, 235–241; - influenced by the “new ideas” of love and marriage, she accepts the - love of Buzot, 242, 243; - she tells her husband of her love for Buzot, 243; - her relations to her husband thereafter, 244; - Danton’s words concerning, 245; - holds her place in the struggle, 251; - abused by Marat, 252; - her position compared with that of Marie Antoinette, 252; - appears before the Convention, 253; - danger to her life, 253, 254; - attempts to leave Paris, but falls ill, 258; - her vain endeavor to reach the Convention to plead her husband’s - cause, 259–261; - put under arrest, 261, 262; - her imprisonment in the Abbaye and Sainte Pélagie, 264, 265; - her fortitude in prison, 266, 267; - made a prominent actor in the public tragedy by her imprisonment, - 267, 268; - her letters from prison to the Convention and to the ministers, 269, - 270; - her conversation with a committee visiting her prison, 270, 271; - defending herself against accusations and calumnies, 271–273; - her “Last Thoughts,” 273, 284; - doubt as to the object of her passion alluded to in her last letters, - 274; - her letters to Buzot from prison, 274–280; - would ultimately have left Roland for Buzot, 280; - her life and occupations in prison, 280–283; - her _Historical Notes_ written at the Abbaye prison, 283, 284; - her Memoirs and other writings, 284–289; - rapidity and ease with which she wrote, 285; - Rousseau’s _Confessions_ the model of her Memoirs, 287, 288; - her anguish and despair, 289, 290; - her words concerning Mirabeau, 290; - she resolves to kill herself, 291; - conveyed to the Conciergerie, 292; - refuses assistance from her friends, 292; - had hoped, during her imprisonment, for a popular uprising, 292, 293; - her life in the Conciergerie, 295, 296; - her second examination, 296–298; - her defence, 298; - her trial, 299, 300; - sentenced to death, 301; - her words to Chauveau-Lagarde, refusing his assistance as counsel, - 299; - her trip to the guillotine, and death, 301, 302. - See Phlipon, Marie-Jeanne. - - Roland de la Platière, M., 45; - his position and career, 47–51; - his character and disposition, 51, 52; - first acquaintance with Manon Phlipon, 53; - professes love for Manon Phlipon, 60; - Platonic arrangement with Manon, 61; - correspondence between Manon and, 61–69; - annoyances and obstacles in his love affair with Manon, 67–70; - marries Manon, 71; - the first year after his marriage, 73, 74; - his contribution to the _Encyclopédie méthodique_, 76, 77; - ambitious to obtain a title, 78, 79; - the general prejudice against, 81, 82; - his wife obtains for him the position of inspector of commerce at - Lyons, 84; - his letters to his wife while she was in Paris, 85, 86; - trip to England, 86; - his life at Villefranche-sur-Saône, 87 _et seq._; - his mother and brother, 88–90; - disliked in the Academy of Villefranche, 91; - the Abbé Guillon’s words concerning, 91; - his manuscripts in the archives of the Academy of Lyons, 92, 93; - home life at Le Clos, 94 _et seq._; - sympathized with preliminary outbreaks of the Revolution, 112 _et - seq._; - appreciated the financial errors of the French government, 113–116; - labors against the abuses of the realm, 120; - poverty after marriage, 120; - his wife’s influence over, 126, 127; - becomes embroiled in Lyons, 134–138; - detested in Lyons, 138; - goes to Paris as deputy to the National Assembly, 138; - his words concerning Jacobins, 143; - hard at work in Paris, 143, 144; - his zealous spirit, 144; - gathering of patriots at home of, 145–147; - pronounces the King “worse than a stick in a wheel,” 158; - his pamphlet on the “Advantages of the flight of the king, etc.,” - 159; - his words on the riot in the Champ-de-Mars, 162, 163; - appointed to head of Department of Interior on Girondin ministry, - 177–179; - pictured by the _Mercure_ as one of the principal agitators of Lyons, - 178; - his life and duties as minister, 179, 180; - his formulas in reply to requests of departments that he suppress - disorders, 185–187; - his conduct exasperating, 188; - his letter to the King concerning the perils threatening Paris, - 190–196; - discharged from the ministry, 197; - presents his letter to the Assembly, 197–199; - meets and plans with Barbaroux, 201–205; - everywhere upheld the Jacobin party, 211; - his great energy, 212; - hindered in activity by the Commune, 212–214; - at cross-purposes with Danton, 217; - antagonized Marat, 218, 219; - protests against the September massacres, 219–221; - orders Santerre to quell disorder, 221; - attacked by Marat, 222; - makes overtures to Dumouriez, 223; - Madame Roland informs him of her love for Buzot, 243; - resigns from the ministry, 245; - withdraws his resignation, 246; - his struggle against the Mountain party, 247; - his retirement, 254, 255; - neglected by the Convention, 254, 255, 258; - arrested, 259; - in concealment, 276; - his last days and death, 303–305. - - Rousseau, Jean Jacques, the prophet of the sentimental generation, 32; - his _Nouvelle Héloïse_ and its influence on Manon Phlipon, 32–35; - his _Émile_, 33, 34; - Manon Phlipon’s visit to, 55, 56; - his _Social Contract_, 125; - his _Confessions_ the model of Madame Roland’s Memoirs, 287, 288. - - - Sainte-Lettre, M. de, and Manon Phlipon, 44, 45. - - Sainte Pélagie, the prison of, 281, 282. - - Sanson, the headsman, and Madame Roland, 302. - - Santerre, 206, 221. - - Servan, in the ministry with Roland, 188, 189; - discharged from the ministry, 197. - - Sévelinges, M. de, Manon Phlipon declines hand of, 46, 47. - - Staël, Madame de, her words concerning Girondins, 173, 174. - - - Taxes, heavy previous to the Revolution, 113–116, 121, 122. - - Tissot, his words concerning Madame Roland, 151. - - - Vergniaud, 201. - - Villefranche-sur-Saône, 87 _et seq._; - the Church Notre Dame des Marais, at, 88; - disorders in the district of, 184. - - Volfius, 145. - - - Williams, Miss, Bancal’s love for, 233, 241. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. 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