VOL. 2.] cate. Extracted from Lady Morgan's " France." 11 phere, Madame de Staël has steadily an invitation from this distinguished wriproceeded in the magnificent march of ter herself brought me at once to her regenius governed by principle; and her treat, in her convent of the Carmelitesopinions, while they are supported by all an order recently restored with more than the force of female enthusiasm, derive an its original severity, and within whose additional weight from the masculine in- walls Madame de Genlis has retired. As dependence and steadiness of their advo- I drove "aux Carmes," it is difficult to say, whether Madame de Genlis or MaI had to lament that Madame de Staël dame de la Valière was uppermost in had left France at the moment when I my imagination. Adjoining to the glooentered it; and I was tantalized by invi- my and monastic structure which incloses tations, which proposed my meeting her the Carmelite sisterhood (in barriers at the house of a mutual friend, at the which even royalty is no longer permitted time when imperious circumstances obli- to pass), stands a small edifice appropriged me to return to Ireland. I was thus ated to the lay-guest of this silent and prevented from seeing one of the most solitary retreat. The pretty garden bedistinguished women of the age, from longing exclusively to this wing of the whose works I had received infinite plea- convent, is only divided from its great sure, and (as a woman I may add) infi- garden by a low wall, and it admits at its nite pride. Her character was uniformly extremity the melancholy view of a small described to me by her friends, as largely chapel or oratory, fatally distinguished by partaking of a disposition whose kindness the murder of the bishops and priests, knew no bounds; and of feelings which imprisoned there during the reign of Rolent themselves, in ready sympathy, to ev- bespierre. Madame de Genlis received ery claim of friendship, and every call of me with a kindness, a cordiality, that had benevolence. Among those who knew all the naïveté and freshness of youthful her well, the splendour of her reputation feeling and youthful vivacity. There was seems sunk in the popularity of her character; and "C'est une excellente personne"--- C'est un bon enfant," were epithets of praise constantly lavished on one, who has so many more brilliant claims to celebrity. nothing of age in her address or conversation; and vigour, animation, a tone of decision, rapidity of utterance, spoke the full possession of every feeling and every faculty: and I found her in the midst of occupations and pursuits, which might startle the industry of youth to undertake or to accomplish. Madame de Genlis was at Paris when I arrived there; but I was told on every side that she had retired from the world; When I entered her apartment, she was that she was invisible alike to friends and painting flowers in a book, which she strangers-that, "elle s'était jetée dans la called her Herbier sacré, in which she religion!" or that "elle s'était mise en was copying all the plants mentioned in retraite dans une société de Capucines." the Bible. She shewed me another volI had despaired therefore of seeing a per- ume, which she had just finished, full of son, out of whose works I had been edu- trophies and tasteful devices, which she cated, and whose name and writings were called L'Herbier de reconnaisance.— intimately connected with all my earliest "But I have little time for such idle associations of books and literature; when amusements," said Madame de Genlis. She was, in fact then engaged in abridgBoth Madame de Staël and Madame de ing some ponderous tomes of French MéGenlis appeared to me to be rather unpopular with the royalists and ultras: the one, for her moires, in writing her Journal de la Jeusupposed republican principles; the other, for nesse, and in preparing for the press her the part she took in the early part of the revo- new novel Les Battuécas, which she has lution. Of Madame de Staël they constantly since given to the world. said to me," C'est de éloquence, si vous voulez ; cependant c'est une phrasiere que Madame de S.!" Her harp was, nevertheless, well strung Of Madame de Genlis-"Pour son style, c'est and tuned; her piano-forte covered with d'une pureté très facile et élégante, mais il n'y a rien de naturel dans ses romans, que les enfans" new music; and when I gave her her The Battuecas of Madame de Genlis must, lute to play for me it did not require the however, by this, have reconciled her to the drawing up of a single string. All was energy and occupation. It was impossi most inveterate friends of legitimacy, church, state, and the King of Spain! 12 Lady Morgan's Characters of Mesdames de Staël and de Genlis. [voL. 2. ble not to make some observation on such téraire de société, and it was suggested versatility and variety of pursuits. "Oh! to Buonaparte, that if he granted four this is nothing," said Madame de Genlis; thousand franks per annum to a man who "what I pride myself on, is knowing was not an author, and was therefore twenty trades, by all of which I could destitute of the usual claim on such stated earn my bread." bounty, that there were two friends of She conversed with great earnestness, that person, equally clever, literary, and but with great simplicity, without effort distressed, who would expect, or at least as without pretension; and laughed ask for a similar provision. "Eh bien," heartily at some anecdotes I repeated to said Buonaparte, " cela fait douze mille her, which were then in circulation in francs ;" and he ordered the other two Paris. When I mentioned the story of distressed literati to be put on the annuiher receiving a mysterious pupil, who ty-list with their friend. came veiled to her apartments, whose face It was said to me in Paris, that Madhad never been seen even by her atten- ame de Genlis had retired to the Carmedants, she replied, that there was no mys- lites" désabusée des vanités de ce monde, tery in the case; that she received two or et de chimères de la célébrité." I know three unfortunate young people,who had not how far this may be true, but it is no means of supporting themselves, and certain, that if she has done with the to whom she taught the harp as a mode vanities of the world, she has by no of subsistence, as she had done to Case- means relinquished its refinements and mir, now one of the finest harpists in the tastes even amidst the coldness and ausworld. I could not help telling her, I terity of a convent. Her apartment believed she had a passion for educating: might have answered equally for the orashe replied," Au contraire cela m'a tou- tory of a saint, or the boudoir of a cojours ennuyé ;" and added, it was the quette. Her blue silk draperies, her alaonly means now left her of doing good. baster vases, her fresh-gathered flowers, I had been told in Paris, that Madame and elegant Grecian couch, breathed still de Genlis had carried on a secret corres- of this world: but the large crucifix pondence with the late emperor, which is (that image of suffering and humility) another term for the higher walks of es- which hung at the foot of that couch pionnage. I ventured one day to talk to the devotional books that lay mingled her on the subject; and she entered on it with lay works, and the chaplets and rowith great promptitude and frankness. saries which hung suspended from a wall, "Buonaparte," she said, was extreme- where her lute vibrated, and which her ly liberal to literary people-a pension paintings adorned, indicated a vocation. of four thousand francs per annum was before which Genius lay subdued, and the assigned to all authors and gens-de-lettres Graces forgotten. On shewing me the whose circumstances admitted of their pious relics which enriched this pretty acceptance of such a gratuity. He gave cell, Madame de Genlis pointed out to me, however, six thousand, and a suite of my admiration a Christ on the cross, apartments at the Arsenal. As I had which hung at the foot of her bed, never spoken to him, never had any in- was so celebrated for the beauty of its tercourse with him whatever, I was execution, that the pope had sent for it struck with this liberality, and asked him when he was in Paris, and blessed it ere what he expected I should do to merit he returned the sad and holy representait. When the question was put to tion to its distinguished owner. Napoleon, he replied carelessly, 'Let she naturally placed great value on a Madame de Genlis write me a letter once beautiful rosary which had belonged to a month.' As no subject was dictated, Fenelon, and which that elegant saint had I chose literature, but I always abstained worn and prayed over till a few days befrom politics." Madame de Geulis fore his death. added, that, though she never had any interview with him, yet, on her recommendation, he had pensioned five indigent persons of literary talent. One of these persons was a mere lit It And If years could be taken into the account of a lady's age, Madame de Genlis must be far advanced in life; for it is some time back since the Baron de Grimm speaks of her as a "demoiselle VOL. 2.] Mental Effect of the Celebration of High-Mass. 13 de qualîte, qui n'était connue alors, que of those sad impressions, which time par sa jolie voir, et son talent pour la slowly and imperceptibly prints, with his harpe." Infirmity, however, seems to withering and silent touch, on the firmest have spared her slight and emaciated muscle and the brightest bloom. My figure; her dark eye is still full of life visits to the cloisters of the Carmelites and expression; and tho' her features were as frequent as the duties of Madame are thin, worn, and sharply marked, and de Genlis,and my own engagements in the her complexion wan and pale, the traces world would admit; and if I met this distinof age are neither deep nor multiplied. If guished and highly endowed person with her person is infinitely less fresh and vig- the high-beating throb of expectation, I orous than her mind, still it exhibits few parted from her with admiration and regret. IN SIR, MODERN CEREMONY OF HIGH MASS. From the Monthly Magazine. I had ever heard. The music of the RoN an entertaining, but anonymous, mish Ritual is exceedingly fine, and here volume, entitled, "Memorandums of it was heard to the fullest advantage. a Residence in France in the Winter of The venerable air and magnitude of the 1815-16," I met with the following building-the great numbers of the comsingular account of the effects of the municants-the gorgeous habiliments of celebration of high mass, upon the mind the long train of priests-the splendor of the author, concluding with a com- of the prolonged ceremony-the exquisite pliment to the talents and virtues of my chanting of the singers-were altogether late much respected friend-the Rev. infinitely impressive. I was so overHugh Worthington:powered with my own emotions, that I could scarcely stifle the hysterical sobs which rose in spite of my exertions. I felt a sensation of awe, of reverential awe, which almost made me dread to lift up my eyes, lest I should encounter the reproving glance of an offended Deity. My conscience brought before me all the faults I had ever been guilty of; and I was overwhelmed with a sense of my own unworthiness and reprobation. Forgetting for a moment that I was assisting at a communion of which I was not a member, I knelt down and received the sacrament with as sincere a dévotion as ever influenced the breast of the most bigotted believer in modern miracles! I thought not of the peculiar tenets of Catholic or Protestant, and only reflected on the power and the mercy of the Creator, and on the miserable impotence and unworthiness of human nature. I thought on that perfect Man, who sacrificed his life for the benefit of his abandoned fellow-creatures, and I ate the bread in commemoration of his sufferings. My feelings were excited to a degree of "The long preparation added still to the intensity, which could not long have coneffect. The organ swelled out its majestic tinued without causing madness. tones with the most exquisite modulation wished to retire, but had not the power "I had frequently attended the celebration of high mass in England, and had often admired it as a fine and imposing spectacle, but never saw it in so great a degree of perfection as on á festival at the church of St. Roch, in Paris. I do not remember the occasion, but am not likely ever to forget the ceremony or the feelings it inspired. I had been previously harassed with unusual fatigue, had passed several nights of broken rest, and had pursued my studies with a degree of assiduity and intensity which had quite unhinged my nerves, and left me in a state of body approaching very nearly to hysterical agitation. Under a feeling so oppressive and distressing, I looked about anxiously for something to turn the current of my thoughts, and tranquillize the painful irritation of my brain. The church of St. Roch was open and illuminated with unusual splendor; I passed in; and, hiring one of the little chairs, of which there are many hundred always ready, seated myself, and waited patiently for the commencement. I 14 Extructs from "De Courci," a poem. [VOL. 2. the ardent and unaffected piety, the saintlike purity of devotion which characterized the late Hugh Worthington, a man whose religious tenets I know not, but whose lively influential faith-whose energetic performance of his dutieswhose exquisite simplicity of heart, and overpowering eloquence, rendered him to remove myself; on a sudden, some Yet the highest enjoyment of these quarrel at the door respecting a dog blessings would not have incapacitated which had been admitted into the church, me for relishing and sympathising with turned the whole course of my ideas, and all the pomp and magnificence which had before produced so strong an effect on the mind, faded into nothingness and folly. I returned home dissatisfied and discontented. When I 'communed with my own heart in my chamber, and was still,' I reverted to the occurrence of the day. My body was now renovated by rest and a worthy member of the ministry of refreshment, and I could calmly review Christ, and an honor to human nature.' my feelings and the cause of them: how Whatever, Mr. Editor, may be did all the magnificent spectacle I had thought of the former portion of this exwitnessed sink into nothing, when com- tract, I am persuaded the latter part will pared with the humble prayer of a con- be acceptable to many of your readers; trite heart! I was angry and dissatisfied and gratifying as it is to meet with a with the conviction that pressed itself tribute of respect to the memory of a upon me, that the feelings which were at beloved friend, a natural wish arises to the moment so sublime and overwhelming, extend the sphere of its circulation: were really the result of corporeal, not of Your insertion of the above will thereintellectual impressions; and that the fore much oblige, J. EVANS. same ceremony would have had no such effect had I been in health and vigor. WE May 3, 1817. DE COURCI. From the European Magazine. E have understood that the au- in two cantos. In this there is much thor of this work is a young man demonstration of poetic thought; the in whom the scintilla of a poetic genius subject is interesting, and the versificahave long been noticed with the approv- tion peculiarly harmonious and correct. ing voice of all who know him. And The author, in his preface, informs us, by a well-written and modest preface, that he "is indebted for the outline of we are informed from himself, that the his tale to the narrative of a fact recordcontents of his book have been already ed in the celebrated Encyclopédie Mésanctioned by the indulgence and flat- thodique. It is, however, much altered, tering encomiums of illustrious patronage. and some incidents are amplified, and If we are not mistaken in our infor- some others entirely added: though the mation, the author of this volume is the character of its principal features remains Mr. Thomson, who by his Odes and unchanged."-This narrative seems to Addresses has given much flow of soul be comprehended in the incidents of a to those feasts of Reason, the festivals of reconciliation between two rival chiefour metropolitan charitable institutions. tains by the marriage of a son and daugh-We see indeed, by the notifications of ter of their respective families ;-the the Commemorative Addresses included in this volume, that his Muse has, with a kindred affection, united herself to the Christian grace of Charity: and we venture to add, that by such generous efforts on his part, much efficient aid has been given to the sacred cause. This first poem in the work before us is "De Courci," a metrical romance, guilty secret of a domestic murder, and the retribution of Divine Providence.— The poetic version of it consists of two cantos; and we must observe, that he who could render the facts so interesting, had fact enough to extend his poem beyond such narrow limits. We regret that he did not so extend it, as we are fully convinced, by the specimen with VOL. 2.] Thomson's new Poem of " De Courci." which he has indulged us, that his talent Fair Land !---when evening's milder beam was equal to the task. The rival Chieftains are De Courci and Montmorenci.-The union of their families and the cessation of their party feuds are effected by the marriage of Adelaide, De Courci's daughter, and Victor, Montmorenci's son.-The deed of murderous atrocity has been perpetrated by the parent of De Courci, who slew his father from an impulse of avaricious anxiety to anticipate the possessions of the family domain-he, in his turn, is confined for life by his son in a dilapidated part of the castle-and is discovered by St. Clair, the friend of Victor-to whom the guilty father tells his tale of assassination and remorse.-The retribution of divine justice is accomplished by the dreadful effects of a thunder-storm, in which the castle and all its inhabitants are destroyed on the bridal night. These events Mr. Thomson has adorned with much brilliancy of imagery and poetical effect. The opening of the poem is preceded by a very beautiful address to the genius under whose influence he writes: "HARP OF ROMANCE! whose changeful measures flow Of blended feeling and of impulse high, Kindles in youthful hearts a warmer glow, And steals the dewy tear from Beauty's eye: Oh! do not now such influence deny, Though rude the hand that wakes thy sleep- But, with thy notes of sweetest minstrelsy, swell, tell." There is much aptitude of allusion in this invocation, and an unfeigned simplicity which unites poetic elegance with strength of diction. The poem opens with the following highly-finished description of an autumnal evening in Provence. "FAIR PROVENCE!---whose elysian clime Flings its broad shadows o'er the stream, 15 Each mountain brow, its beams enshrining While clouds, of every form and dye, That shed to earth their silver blaze: The apostrophe to Connubial Love, which follows the reconciliation of the Houses of De Courci and Montmorenci, by the union of their junior branches, is worthy of a poet's pen, which describes the most intimate sympathies of the human bosom by the most interesting display of the chastened passion which actuates them. «O Love !---Ileaven's sweetest boon! be stow'd To cheer our dreary pilgrim road ; |