hing of the tone of the past regime. There
were also the men of the new generation, men who were saturated with the
principles of the Revolution though regretting its methods. Among these
were Chebnier, Regnault, and Benjamin Constant.

The influence of Mme. de Stael was at its height during this period.
Her talent, her liberal opinions, and her persuasive eloquence gave
her great power over the constitutional leaders. The measures of the
Government were freely discussed and criticized in her salon, and men
went out with positions well defined and speeches well considered. The
Duchesse d'Abrantes relates an incident which aptly illustrates this
power and its reaction upon herself. Benjamin Constant had prepared a
brilliant address. The evening before it was to be delivered, Mme. de
Stael was surrounded by a large and distinguished company. After tea was
served he said to her:

"Your salon is filled with people who please you; if I speak tomorrow,
it will be deserted. Think of it."

"One must follow one's convictions," she replied, after a moment's
hesitation.

She admitted afterward that she would never have refused his offer not
to compromise her, if she could have foreseen all that would follow.

The next day she invited her friends to celebrate his triumph. At four
o'clock a note of excuse; in an hour, ten. From this time her fortunes
waned. Many ceased to visit her salon. Even Talleyrand, who owed her so
much, came there no more.

In later years she confessed that the three men she had most loved were
Narbonne, Talleyrand, and Mathieu de Montmorency. Her friendship for the
first of these reached a passionate exaltation, which had a profound and
not altogether wholesome influence upon her life. How completely she was
disenchanted is shown in a remark she made long afterward of a loyal and
distinguished man: "He has the manners of Narbonne and a heart." It is
a character in a sentence. Mathieu de Montmorency was a man of pure
motives, who proved a refuge of consolation in many storms, but her
regard for him was evidently a gentler flame that never burned to
extinction. Whatever illusions she may have had as to Talleyrand--and
they seem to have been little more than an enthusiastic appreciation of
his talent--were certainly broken by his treacherous desertion in her
hour of need. Not the least among her many sorrows was the bitter taste
of ingratitude.

But Napoleon, who, like Louis XIV, sought to draw all infl