The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume I Part 79

Madame de la Fite has long pressed me with great earnestness to write to Madame de Genlis, whose very elegant little note to me I never have answered. Alas! what can I do? I think of her as of one of the first among women--I see her full of talents and of charms--I am willing to believe her good, virtuous, and dignified;--yet, with all this, the cry against her is so violent and so universal, and my belief in her innocence is wholly unsupported by proof in its favour, or any other argument than internal conviction, from what I observed of her conduct and manners and conversation when I saw her in London, that I know not how to risk a correspondence with her, till better able to satisfy others, as well as I am satisfied myself: most especially, I dare not enter into such an intercourse through Madame de la Fite, whose indiscreet zeal for us both would lead her to tell her successful mediation to everybody she could make hear her. Already she has greatly distressed me upon this subject. Not content with continual importunity to me to write, ever since my arrival, which I have evaded as gently as possible, to avoid giving her my humiliating reasons, she has now written Madame de Genlis word that I am here, belonging to the same royal household as herself; and then came to tell me, that as we were now so closely connected, she proposed our writing jointly, in the same letter.

All this, with infinite difficulty, I pa.s.sed over,--pleading my little time; which indeed she sees is true. But when M. Argant was here, she said to me, in French, "M. Argant will immediately wait upon Madame de Genlis, for he is going to Paris; he will tell her he saw us together, and he will carry her a letter' from me; and surely Miss Burney will not refuse M. Argant the happiness of carrying two lines from one lady so celebrated to another?" I was quite vexed; a few lines answer the same purpose as a few sheets; since, once her correspondent, all that I am hesitating about is as completely over, right or wrong, as if I wrote to her weekly.

As soon as they left me, I hastened to my dear Mrs. Delany, to consult with her what to do. "By all means," cried she, "tell the affair of your difficulties whether to write to her or not, to the queen: it will unavoidably spread, if you enter into such a correspondence, and the properest step you can take, the safest and the happiest, is to have her opinion, and be guided by it. Madame de Genlis is so public a character, you can hardly correspond with her in private, and it would be better the queen should hear of such an intercourse from yourself than from any other."

I entirely agreed in the wisdom of her advice, though I very much doubted my power to exert sufficient courage to speak, unasked, upon any affair of my own. You may be sure I resolved to spare poor Madame de la Fite, in my application, if I made it: "to write, or not to write," was all I wanted to determine; for the rest, I must run any risk rather than complain of a friend who always means well....

An opportunity offered the next morning, for the queen again commanded me to follow her into her saloon; and there she was so gentle, and so gracious, that I ventured to speak of Madame de Genlis.

It was very fearfully that I took this liberty. I dreaded lest she should imagine I meant to put myself under her direction, as if presuming she would be pleased to direct me. Something, I told her, I had to say, by the advice of Mrs. Delany, which I begged her permission to communicate. She a.s.sented in silence, but with a look of the utmost softness, and yet mixed with strong surprise. I felt my voice faltering, and I was with difficulty able to go on,--so new to me was it to beg to be heard, who, hitherto, have always been begged to speak. There is no absolutely accounting for the forcible emotions which every totally new situation and new effort will excite in a mind enfeebled, like mine, by a long succession of struggling agitations. I got behind her chair, that she might not see a distress she might wonder at: for it was not this application itself that affected me; it was the novelty of my own situation, the new power I was calling forth over my proceedings, and the--O my Susan!--the all that I was changing from--relinquis.h.i.+ng-of the past--and hazarding for the future!

With many pauses, and continual hesitation, I then told her that I had been earnestly pressed by Madame de Genlis to correspond with her; that I admired her with all my heart, and, with all my heart, believed all good of her; but that, nevertheless, my personal knowledge of her was too slight to make me wish so intimate an intercourse, which I had carefully shunned upon all occasions but those where my affection as well as my admiration had been interested; though I felt such a request from such a woman as Madame de Genlis as an honour, and therefore not to be declined without some reason stronger than my own general reluctance to proposals of that sort; and I found her unhappily, and I really and sincerely believed undeservedly, encircled with such powerful enemies, and accused with so much confidence of having voluntarily provoked them, that I could not, even in my own mind, settle if it were right to connect myself with her so closely, till I could procure information more positive in her favour, in order to answer the attacks of those who asperse her,[216] and who would highly blame me for entering into a correspondence with a character not more unquestionably known to me. I had been desirous to wait, suspended, till this fuller knowledge might be brought about; but I was now solicited into a decision, by M. Argant, who was immediately going to her, and who must either take her a letter from me or show her, by taking none, that I was bent upon refusing her request.

The queen heard me with the greatest attention, and then said, "Have you yet writ to her?"

No, I said; I had had a little letter from her, but I received it just as the d.u.c.h.ess of Portland died, when my whole mind was so much occupied by Mrs. Delany, that I could not answer it.

"I will speak to you then," cried she, "very honestly; if you have not yet writ, I think it better you should not write. If you had begun, it would be best to go on; but as you have not, it will be the safest way to let it alone. You may easily say, without giving her any offence, that you are now too much engaged to find time for entering into any new correspondence."

I thanked her for this open advice as well as I was able, and I felt the honour its reliance upon my prudence did me, as well as the kindness of permitting such an excuse to be made.

The queen talked on, then, of Madame de Genlis with the utmost frankness; she admired her as much as I had done myself, but had been so a.s.saulted with tales to her disadvantage, that she thought it unsafe and indiscreet to form any connection with her. Against her own judgment, she had herself been almost tormented into granting her a private audience, from the imprudent vehemence of one of Madame de G.'s friends here, with whom she felt herself but little pleased for what she had done, and who, I plainly saw, from that unfortunate injudiciousness, would lose all power of exerting any influence in future. Having thus unreservedly explained herself, she finished the subject, and has never started it since. But she looked the whole time with a marked approbation of my applying to her.

Poor Madame de Genlis! how I grieve at the cloud which hovers over so much merit, too bright to be hid but not to be obscured.

A DISTINGUISHED ASTRONOMER.

In the evening Mr. Herschel[217] came to tea. I had once seen that very extraordinary man at Mrs. de Luc's, but was happy to see him again, for he has not more fame to awaken curiosity, than sense and modesty to gratify it. He is perfectly una.s.suming, yet openly happy; and happy in the success of those studies which would render a mind less excellently formed presumptuous and arrogant. The king has not a happier subject than this man, who owes wholly to his majesty that he is not wretched: for such was his eagerness to quit all other pursuits to follow astronomy solely, that he was in danger of ruin, when his talents, and great and uncommon genius, attracted the king's patronage. He has now not only his pension, which gives him the felicity of devoting all his time to his darling study, but he is indulged in licence from the king to make a telescope according to his new ideas and discoveries, that is to have no cost spared in its construction, and is wholly to be paid for by his majesty.

This seems to have made him happier even than the pension, as it enables him to put in execution all his wonderful projects, from which his expectations of future discoveries are so sanguine as to make his present existence a state of almost perfect enjoyment. Mr. Locke himself would be quite charmed with him. He seems a man without a wish that has its object in the terrestrial globe.

At night, Mr. Herschel, by the king's command, came to exhibit to his majesty and the royal family the new comet lately discovered by his sister, Miss Herschel; and while I was playing at piquet with Mrs.

Schwellenberg, the Princess Augusta came into the room, and asked her if she chose to go into the garden and look at it. She declined the offer, and the princess then made it to me. I was glad to accept it, for all sorts of reasons.

We found him at his telescope, and I mounted some steps to look through it. The comet was very small, and had nothing grand or striking in its appearance; but it is the first lady's comet, and I was very desirous to see it. Mr. Herschel then showed me some of his new-discovered universes, with all the good humour with which he would have taken the same trouble for a brother or a sister-astronomer: there is no possibility of admiring his genius more than his gentleness.

EFFUSIVE MADAME DE LA ROCHE.

I come now to introduce to you, with a new character, some new perplexities from my situation. Madame de la Fite called the next morning, to tell me she must take no denial to forming me a new acquaintance--Madame de la Roche, a German by birth, but married to a Frenchman;--an auth.o.r.ess, a woman of talents and distinction, a character highly celebrated, and unjustly suffering from an adherence to the Protestant religion.[218]

"She dies with eagerness to see you," she added, in French, "and I have invited her to Windsor, where I have told her I have no other feast prepared for her but to show her Dr. Herschel and Miss Burney."

I leave you to imagine if I felt competent to fulfil such a promise: openly, on the contrary, I a.s.sured her I was quite unequal to it. She had already, she said, written to Madame de la Roche, to come the next day, and if I would not meet her she must be covered with disgrace.

Expostulation was now vain; I could only say that to answer for myself was quite, out of my own power.

"And why?--and wherefore?--and what for?--and surely to me!--and surely for Madame de la Roche!--une femme d'esprit--mon amie--l'amie de Madame de Genlis," etc., etc., filled up a hurried conference in the midst of my dressing for the queen, till a summons interrupted her, and forced me, half dressed, and all too late, to run away from her, with an extorted promise to wait upon her if I possibly could.

Accordingly I went, and arrived before Madame de la Roche. Poor Madame de la Fite received me in transport; and I soon witnessed another transport, at least equal, to Madame de la Roche, which happily was returned with the same warmth; and it was not till after a thousand embraces, and the most ardent professions--"Ma digne amie!--est il possible?--te vois-je?" etc.--that I discovered they had never before met in their lives!--they had corresponded, but, no more![219]

This somewhat lessened my surprise, however, when my turn arrived; for no sooner was I named than all the embra.s.sades were transferred to me--"La digne Miss Borni!--l'auteur de Cecile?--d'Evelina?--non, ce n'est pas possible!-suis-je si heureuse!--oui, je le vois a ses yeux!--Ah! que de bonheur!" etc....

Madame de la Roche, had I met her in any other way, might have pleased me in no common degree; for could I have conceived her character to be unaffected, her manners have a softness that would render her excessively engaging. She is now bien pa.s.see--no doubt fifty--yet has a voice of touching sweetness, eyes of dove-like gentleness, looks supplicating for favour, and an air and demeanour the most tenderly caressing. I can suppose she has thought herself all her life the model of the favourite heroine of her own favourite romance, and I can readily believe that she has had attractions in her youth nothing short of fascinating. Had I not been present, and so deeply engaged in this interview, I had certainly been caught by her myself; for in her presence I constantly felt myself forgiving and excusing what in her absence I as constantly found past defence or apology.

Poor Madame de la Fite has no chance in her presence for though their singular enthusiasm upon "the people of the literature," as Pacchierotti called them, is equal, Madame de la Fite almost subdues by her vehemence, while Madame de la Roche almost melts by her softness. Yet I fairly believe they are both very good women, and both believe themselves sincere.

I returned still time enough to find Mrs. Schwellenberg with her tea-party; and she was very desirous to hear something of Madame de la Roche. I was led by this to give a short account of her: not such a one as you have heard, because I kept it quite independent of all reference to poor Madame de la Fite; but there was still enough to make a little narration. Madame de la Roche had told me that she had been only three days in England, and had yet made but a beginning of seeing les spectacles and les gens celebres;--and what do you think was the first, and, as yet, sole spectacle to which she had been carried?--Bedlam!--And who the first, and, as yet, only homme celebre she had seen--Lord George Gordon!--whom she called le fameux George Gordon, and with whom she had dined, in company with Count Cagliostro.

_Sunday, Sept. 17_--At the chapel this morning, Madame de la Fite placed Madame de la Roche between herself and me, and proposed bringing her to the Lodge, "to return my visit." This being precisely what I had tried to avoid, and to avoid without shocking Madame de la Fite, by meeting her correspondent at her own house, I was much chagrined at such a proposal, but had no means to decline it, as it was made across Madame de la Roche herself.

Accordingly, at about two o'clock, when I came from the queen, I found them both in full possession of my room, and Madame de la Fite occupied in examining my books. The thing thus being done, and the risk of consequences inevitable, I had only to receive them with as little display of disapprobation of their measures as I could help; but one of the most curious scenes followed I have ever yet been engaged in or witnessed.

As soon as we were seated, Madame de la Fite began with a.s.suring me, aloud, of the "conquest" I had made of Madaine de la Roche, and appealed to that lady for the truth of what she said. Madame de la Roche answered her by rising, and throwing her arms about me, and kissing my cheeks from side to side repeatedly.

Madame de la Fite, as soon as this was over, and we had resumed our seats, opened the next subject, by saying Madame de la Roche had read and adored "Cecilia:" again appealing to her for confirmation of her a.s.sertion.

"O, oui, oui!" cried her friend, "mais la vraie Cecile, est Miss Borni!

charmante Miss Borni! digne, douce, et aimable--com to me arms! que je vous embra.s.se millefois!"

Again we were all deranged, and again the same ceremony being performed, we all sat ourselves down. "Cecilia" was then talked over throughout, in defiance of every obstacle I could put in its way. After this, Madame de la Fite said, in French, that Madame de la Roche had had the most extraordinary life and adventures that had fallen to anybody's lot; and finished with saying, "Eh! ma chere amie, contez-nous un peu."

They were so connected, she answered, in their early part with M.

Wieland, the famous author, that they would not be intelligible without his story.

Madame de la Roche, looking down upon her fan, began then the recital.

She related their first interview, the gradations of their mutual attachment, his extraordinary talents, his literary fame and name; the breach of their union from motives of prudence in their friends; his change of character from piety to voluptuousness, in consoling himself for her loss with an actress; his various adventures, and various transformations from good to bad, in life and conduct; her own marriage with M. de la Roche, their subsequent meeting when she was mother of three children, and all the attendant circ.u.mstances.

This narrative was told in so touching and pathetic a manner, and interspersed with so many sentiments of tenderness and of heroism, that I could scarcely believe I was not actually listening to a Clelia, or a Ca.s.sandra, recounting the stories of her youth.[220]

When she had done, and I had thanked her, Madame de la Fite demanded of me what I thought of her, and if she was not delightful? I a.s.sented, and Madame de la Roche then, rising, and fixing her eyes, filled with tears, in my face, while she held both my hands, in the most melting accents, exclaimed, "Miss Borni! la plus chere, la plus digne des Angloises!

dites-moi-m'aimez-vous!"

I answered as well as I could, but what I said was not very positive.

Madame de la Fite came up to us, and desired we might make a trio of friends.h.i.+p, which should bind us to one another for life. And then they both embraced me, and both wept for joyful fondness! I fear I seemed very hard-hearted; but no spring was opened whence one tear of mine could flow.

A DINNER DIFFICULTY.