The Women of the French Salons [23]
and loved to air them, hence the people who move across the pages of her novels are often lost in a cloud of speculation. But she gave a fresh impulse to literature, adding a fine quality of grace, tenderness, and pure though often exaggerated sentiment. Mme. de La Fayette, who had more clearness of mind as well as a finer artistic sense, gave a better form to the novel and pruned it of superfluous matter. The sentiment which casts so soft and delicate a coloring over her romances was more subtle and refined. It may be questioned, however, if she wrote so much that has been incorporated in the thought of her time.
CHAPTER IV. LA GRANDE MADEMOISELLE Her Character--Her Heroic Part in the Fronde--Her Exile-- Literary Diversions of her Salon--A Romantic Episode
There are certain women preeminently distinguished by diversity of gifts, who fail to leave behind them a fame at all commensurate with their promise. It may be from a lack of unity, resulting from a series of fragmentary efforts, no one of which is of surpassing excellence; it may be that the impression of power they give is quite beyond any practical manifestation of it; or it may be that talents in themselves remarkable are cast into the shade by some exceptional brilliancy of position. The success of life is measured by the harmony between its ideals and its attainments. It is the symmetry of the temple that gives the final word, not the breadth of its foundations nor the wealth of its material.
It was this lack of harmony and fine proportion which marred the career of a woman who played a very conspicuous part in the social and political life of her time, and who belongs to my subject only through a single phase of a stormy and eventful history. No study of the salons would be complete without that of the Grande Mademoiselle, but it was not as the leader of a coterie that she held her special claim to recognition. By the accident of birth she stood apart, subject to many limitations that modified the character of her salon and narrowed its scope, though they emphasized its influence. It was only an incident of her life, but through the quality of its habitues and their unique diversions it became the source of an important literature.
Anne Marie Louise d'Orleans, Duchesse de Montpensier, has left a very distinct record of herself in letters, romances, memoirs and portraits, written out of an abounding fullness of nature, but with infinite detail and royal contempt for precision and orthography. She talks naively of her happy childhood, of her small caprices, of the love of her grandmother, Marie de Medicis, of her innocent impressions of the people about her. She dwells with special pleasure upon a grand fete at the Palais Royal, in which she posed as an incipient queen. She was then nineteen. "They were three entire days in arranging my costume," she writes. "My robe was covered with diamonds, and trimmed with rose, black, and white tufts. I wore all the jewels of the crown and of the Queen of England, who still had some left. No one could be better or more magnificently attired than I was that day, and many people said that my beautiful figure, my imposing mien, my fair complexion, and the splendor of my blonde hair did not adorn me less than all the riches which were upon my person." She sat resplendent upon a raised dais, with the proud consciousness of her right and power to grace a throne. Louis XIV, than a child, and the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II, were at her feet. The latter was a devoted suitor. "My heart as well as my eyes regarded the prince de haut en bas," she says. "I had the spirit to wed an emperor."
There were negotiations for her marriage with the Emperor of Austria, and she thought it wise to adapt herself in advance to his tastes. She had heard that he was religious, and immediately began to play the part of a devote so seriously, that she was seized with a violent desire to become a veritable religieuse and enter the convent of the Carmelites. She could neither eat nor sleep, and it was feared
CHAPTER IV. LA GRANDE MADEMOISELLE Her Character--Her Heroic Part in the Fronde--Her Exile-- Literary Diversions of her Salon--A Romantic Episode
There are certain women preeminently distinguished by diversity of gifts, who fail to leave behind them a fame at all commensurate with their promise. It may be from a lack of unity, resulting from a series of fragmentary efforts, no one of which is of surpassing excellence; it may be that the impression of power they give is quite beyond any practical manifestation of it; or it may be that talents in themselves remarkable are cast into the shade by some exceptional brilliancy of position. The success of life is measured by the harmony between its ideals and its attainments. It is the symmetry of the temple that gives the final word, not the breadth of its foundations nor the wealth of its material.
It was this lack of harmony and fine proportion which marred the career of a woman who played a very conspicuous part in the social and political life of her time, and who belongs to my subject only through a single phase of a stormy and eventful history. No study of the salons would be complete without that of the Grande Mademoiselle, but it was not as the leader of a coterie that she held her special claim to recognition. By the accident of birth she stood apart, subject to many limitations that modified the character of her salon and narrowed its scope, though they emphasized its influence. It was only an incident of her life, but through the quality of its habitues and their unique diversions it became the source of an important literature.
Anne Marie Louise d'Orleans, Duchesse de Montpensier, has left a very distinct record of herself in letters, romances, memoirs and portraits, written out of an abounding fullness of nature, but with infinite detail and royal contempt for precision and orthography. She talks naively of her happy childhood, of her small caprices, of the love of her grandmother, Marie de Medicis, of her innocent impressions of the people about her. She dwells with special pleasure upon a grand fete at the Palais Royal, in which she posed as an incipient queen. She was then nineteen. "They were three entire days in arranging my costume," she writes. "My robe was covered with diamonds, and trimmed with rose, black, and white tufts. I wore all the jewels of the crown and of the Queen of England, who still had some left. No one could be better or more magnificently attired than I was that day, and many people said that my beautiful figure, my imposing mien, my fair complexion, and the splendor of my blonde hair did not adorn me less than all the riches which were upon my person." She sat resplendent upon a raised dais, with the proud consciousness of her right and power to grace a throne. Louis XIV, than a child, and the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II, were at her feet. The latter was a devoted suitor. "My heart as well as my eyes regarded the prince de haut en bas," she says. "I had the spirit to wed an emperor."
There were negotiations for her marriage with the Emperor of Austria, and she thought it wise to adapt herself in advance to his tastes. She had heard that he was religious, and immediately began to play the part of a devote so seriously, that she was seized with a violent desire to become a veritable religieuse and enter the convent of the Carmelites. She could neither eat nor sleep, and it was feared