civilized world. Her little
library was the sanctuary for all confidential conversation upon
matters of state. Here her husband met his political friends to mature
their measures. The gentlemen gathered, evening after evening, around
the table in the center of the room, M. Roland, with his serene,
reflective brow, presiding at their head, while Madame Roland, at her
work-table by the fireside, employed herself with her needle or her
pen. Her mind, however, was absorbed by the conversation which was
passing. M. Roland, in fact, in giving his own views, was but
recapitulating those sentiments with which his mind was imbued from
previous conference with his companion.

It is not possible that one endowed with the ardent and glowing
imagination of Madame Roland should not, at times, feel inwardly the
spirit of exultation in the consciousness of this vast power. From the
windows of her palace she looked down upon the shop of the mechanic
where her infancy was cradled, and upon those dusty streets where she
had walked an obscure child, while proud aristocracy swept by her in
splendor--that very aristocracy looking now imploringly to her for a
smile. She possessed that peculiar tact, which enabled her often to
guide the course of political measures without appearing to do so. She
was only anxious to promote the glory of her husband, and was never
more happy than when he was receiving plaudits for works which she had
performed. She wrote many of his proclamations, his letters, his state
papers, and with all the glowing fervor of an enthusiastic woman.
"Without me," she writes, "my husband would have been quite as good a
minister, for his knowledge, his activity, his integrity were all his
own; but with me he attracted more attention, because I infused into
his writings that mixture of spirit and gentleness, of authoritative
reason and seducing sentiment, which is, perhaps, only to be found in
the language of a woman who has a clear head and a feeling heart."
This frank avowal of just self-appreciation is not vanity. A _vain_
woman could not have won the love and homage of so many of the noblest
men of France.

A curious circumstance occurred at this time, which forcibly and even
ludicrously struck Madame Roland's mind, as she reflected upon the
wonderful changes of life, and the peculiar position which she now
occupied. Some French artists had been imprisoned by the pope at Rome.
The Executive Council of France wished to remo