any years. It is evident that
the air of France does not agree with you." The true reasons for the
suppression of her work were not assigned, but were turned off with
the remark that "It is not French; and that the French are not yet
reduced to seek for models in the countries which she admired."

In 1810, M. de Rocca, a French officer, who was yet suffering from
dangerous wounds, received in Spain, arrived at Geneva. His personal
condition and his reputation for brilliant courage heightened the
interest excited by his youth and noble physiognomy. He first saw
Madame de Stael at a public assembly. She entered the ball-room,
dressed in a costly but unbecoming style, and followed by a train of
admirers. "Is this the far-famed woman?" said Rocca; "she is very
ugly, and I detest such straining for effect." A few words of
sympathy, set off by the music of her voice, effected a complete
revolution in his feelings. Wishes and hopes apparently the most
extravagant took possession of his heart--for she was now a widow. "I
will love her so much that she will marry me," said he, and his words
were soon fulfilled; but the event was carefully concealed until the
death of Madame de Stael; for she was peculiarly sensitive to public
opinion, and refused to acknowledge a marriage which might have
excited ridicule--so great was the disparity of age and of condition
between the parties. She was unwilling likewise to change her name.
"Mon nom est a l'Europe," said she to M. Rocca, when, on a subsequent
occasion, he jestingly asked her to marry him.

For this marriage, as well as for her former one, Madame de Stael has
been severely censured. Many apologies, if any be really necessary,
may be found for her. Since the death of her father, she had felt,
more than before, the want of an essential accessory to her happiness.
Speaking of the asylum which she hoped to find in England, she said,
"I feel the want of love, of cherishing, of some one to lean upon; if
I can find in that country a man possessing real nobleness of
character, I will gladly yield up my liberty." Heartbroken and
disappointed, both as a woman and an author, she had returned to
Coppet, to find her residence there more irksome and unhappy than
ever. She was advised not to go farther than ten leagues from home;
and fear lest she should involve her friends, induced her to forbid
their coming to her. Her fears were not altogether without reason.
Regardless of the advice she ha