e lexicographer. In Lady Morgan's _Memoirs_ we read: "Mme.
Bonaparte, wife of Jerome, who had abandoned her in a cruel and
dastardly way, was not of the _pate_ out of which victims and martyrs
are made. She held her difficult position with a scornful courage that
excites pity for the woman's nature so scathed and outraged. Her letters
bear the impress of a life run to waste: they are clever, mordant and
amusing, but the bitter sense of wrong cannot be concealed: there is a
dissatisfaction--one might almost call it jealousy--in the topics
discussed." Mme. Bonaparte keeps her friend _au courant_ with Paris
gossip, but we have only space to glance at the revelation of her weary,
empty heart: "PARIS, November, 1816. DEAR LADY MORGAN: I have executed
all your commissions except that _aupres de_ Mme. de Genlis. I have been
so unwell it has been impossible for me to visit the penitent at the
Carmelites. I meet the princess de Beauveau every week at Mme.
Rumford's, where there is an assemblage of _gens d'esprit_--not that I
call myself one of them. However, people say that I am very good, which
is my passport to these _reunions_. I have been asking after the _Novice
of St. Dominic_, which has not yet been seen by any of your friends."
[William Pitt read this novel for the fifth time a few days before his
death.] "I have been very triste: tout m'ennuie dans ce mondeci, et je
ne scais pas pourquoi, unless it be the recollection of what I have
suffered. I think the best thing for me is to return to my dear child. I
love him so entirely that seeing him may render my feelings less
poignant. Any inconveniences are more supportable than being separated
from one's children. How much more we love them than our husbands! the
latter are often so selfish and cruel; but children cannot force mothers
from their affection."... "PARIS, 1817 Your kind letter by Tom Moore
reached me. He seldom sees me: I did not take with him at all.... How
happy you must be at filling the world with your name! Mme. de Stael and
Mme. de Genlis are forgotten, and if the love of fame be of any weight,
your excursion to Paris was a brilliant success. Your work on France has
appeared through a French translation, in which they have suppressed
what they thought best. Its truths cannot at this moment be admitted
here, but in all other countries it will have complete success. The
violent clamor of the Paris gazettes proves it to be too well written.
They are publishing i