he died because he was no longer an object | fulfil their end. of curiosity." A distinct idea of the person is in each case represented. But the reader shall judge. There are deficiencies in this biography. Dates are wanted; many facts are unregis- "SOPHIE ARNOULD.-On the 14th of tered; the close is hurried. But in point February, 1744, at Paris, in the very room of effect is it not an admirable piece of wri- in which the Admiral de Coligny was asting? Do you not carry away from it a sassinated, a little girl was born, who might distinct idea of Beaumarchais, the man, serve as a representative of the most frivoand of his position as a writer? Did you lous and licentious portion of French soever carry away so distinct an idea of any ciety at the close of the eighteenth century; man from an ordinary biographical diction- this child was Sophie Arnould. Her wit ary? This is the point we direct attention more than her beauty, the freedom of her to, because the excellence of Janin's arti- conversation more than her wit, have been cle is precisely the excellence needed by the cause of the celebrity of this dissolute our compilers of biographies: whereas the woman. Sophie Arnould was the daughfaults of Janin's article are such as our writer of a man who let furnished lodgings, ters are not likely to fall into. and she was early accustomed to see all The publication which is now taking kinds of people and hear all kinds of conplace of a Biographical Dictionary' on an versation. She was, however, sent to a immense scale, by the Society for the Dif- convent, and even there her powerful, clear, fusion of Useful Knowledge, leads us to lay and fresh voice caused her to be remarked greater stress on the graphic power of Jules among the other fine voices. One Holy Janin than we should otherwise deem ne- Thursday, at the Val-de-Grâce, young Socessary. That 'Biographical Dictionary' phie sang so well that the Princess of Mois very useful; but not half so useful as it dena asked to see her. In those days it might be. Valuable as a work of reference was still the fashion, although decreasing for any particular fact, it is almost useless daily, for great ladies to pass a few days in for any other purpose; praiseworthy enough retirement in a convent after the saturnalia in its industry, it seems to have relied sole- of the carnival. This was the reason of ly upon its exactness. But we believe this the Princess of Modena's being at the Valto be a misconception, not only of the na-de-Grâce. No sooner had she left this dull ture of biography, but also of the wants of retreat and returned to court, than she anthe public. The superficial exactness of nounced that she had heard in the convent dates and facts should be sustained by the the most beautiful voice in the world, and greater excellences of distinct conception as fine voices were not more common in and graphic execution. A man's life is not the days of Louis XV. than in our own, made up of its events alone. It was his in- there was a general desire to hear the young dividuality that gave those events their sig-pensionnaire. She was fetched from the nificance; it is his individuality, therefore, convent, and found herself suddenly transthat should above all things be distinctly ported into the royal chapel of Versailles, conceived. In many cases, we are aware, at one end of which, by the side of the this is not possible; the materials with which to paint such a picture are not at kand. In many cases, however, it is very possible and highly desirable. king of France, Madame de Pompadour occupied the gilded seat of Madame de Maintenon. The still trembling girl sung a solo passage from one of the psalms, and Doubtless many persons will object to the royal chapel was entranced. Louis Janin's Memoirs as being superficial, de- XVth's court went to divine service as to ficient in information, deficient in method. the opera. The chapel was like every other Granted. We do not praise them for their part of the palace-a place of diversion; information, we do not pass over their care-the preacher in his pulpit, the officiating lessness; we only insist on their graphic power. minister at the altar, and singer in the choir, were discussed as Lekain and Mdlle ConJanin's Memoir of Sophie Arnould is not tat were discussed at the theatre. The less characteristic. In it, as in Beaumar- success of this splendid voice at Versailles chais, there are the same evidences of care- may therefore be imagined. Louis XV. lessness, but also the same talent. Both was as much delighted as he had been by these memoirs seem to have been written the Devin de Village. Madame de Pomoff with scarcely a thought, with scarcely padour, who was burthened with all the But careless as they are they ennuis of an agreeable despotism, exclaim an erasure. · ed, when speaking of young Sophie-Il y was in those days called a salon, that is, a a là dequoi faire une princesse.' And cer- sort of newspaper party, as powerful as a tainly no princess could have been more printed newspaper is in our days. To her cheaply created. There was no longer drawing-room, therefore, as to a rendezany thought of sending her back to the vous of dissipation and licentiousness, both convent or the chapel. Now that she had nobles and wits flocked; for the good unsung in the profane chapel of Versailles, derstanding which existed between men of the next step for her was the boards of the rank and literary men at that period, is opera; there lay henceforth her fame and worthy of remark: the nobles to talk with fortune: thus had Madame de Pompadour and flatter the philosophers, the philosodecided. Sophie Arnould, therefore, made phers to doubt respecting the nobles. Imher début at the opera, and at once felt the prudent as both classes were, they did not importance of her new position; she al- see that at no distant period the noble ways remembered having seen Madame de would be crushed like glass by the wit, and Pompadour sitting like a queen in the gal- that, in his turn, the wit would lose much lery of the chapel at Versailles, and be- of his power and be seriously compromised lieved that nothing was therefore impossi- by a life of fellowship with the noble. They ble to herself. Her first appearance took therefore all clustered round Sophie Arplace on the 15th of December, 1757, and nould; amongst the most illustrious were she was at once applauded, admired, and D'Alembert, the chief of the encyclopædia proclaimed one of the queens of that frivo-writers; Diderot, the fiery revolutionist, lous and witty period. A year later Sophie whose words would, at another bar, have Arnould was all-powerful on that beautiful been as powerful as Mirabeau's; Helvestage, the rendezvous of the high society tius, the mystical dreamer; Mably, the bomof these days,-the same theatre which bastic historian; Duclos, l'homme droit et Voltaire celebrated in such fine poetry. adroit; and J. J. Rousseau himself, the She thus, in twenty-two years, created all the awkward and eloquent misanthrope. And great lyrical dramas, and especially three to these men, whose names were European, characters in which she was inimitable: these ardent prophets of the coming revoThelaïre, in Castor and Pollux;' Ephise, lution, Sophie Arnould talked as with her in 'Dardanus; and Iphigénie, in 'Iphigé- equals; she seemed to say, 'We conspire nie en Aulide.' Her singing was full of together.' Those very men who, jestingly passion; her acting full of energy. Gar- overthrew the most ancient monarchy of rick said of her, on seeing her play, 'Voilà the universe, became the flatterers and hunotre maître à tous.' She was, in fact, all- morers of Sophie Arnould; there was not powerful on the stage: her voice, look, a writer of the period without his bit of gesture, and smile were irresistible. But flattery for the goddess; not one poet who the triumph of this woman did not stop did not devote a few lines to her. Dorat, there another one awaited her. After a poet of note in those days; Marmontel, amusing all this grand society on the stage, who really was a great man; Rulhière, she was still expected to amuse outside the admired for the verses he had written; Fatheatre by all sorts of sallies and bon mots, vart, the Scribe of Louis XVth's reign, full of wit, but often worthy of Billingsgate. celebrated the beautiful, glorious, witty, In the chaotic state of French society at amorous, gallant, sceptical, sneering, madthat period, it happened that persons con- cap, unfaithful, complex Sophie Arnould. nected with the theatre, actresses especially, Thus surrounded, caressed, celebrated, and had usurped an important place. As no- applauded, on the stage and in the drawing body was any longer in their proper posi- room, how could this woman's head escape tion, neither noblemen, writers, nor artists, being turned? She felt that to reign in confusion had been carried to such an ex-peace in this world of irony and calumny, tent that more than one very important drawing room in all respects was governed, directed, and regulated by either very superior or very inferior women. It was thus that Sophie Arnould at once found herself an important personage both in town and country. She had lovers, and many of them; some among the highest nobility; and she consequently held what of wit and sarcasm, of licentiousness and disorder, she must carry irony and calumny, wit and sarcasm, licentiousness and disorder to a greater extent than any one else, and she did so; and by this means she attracted the universal admiration of town and court. Around Sophie Arnould every one listened anxiously; what she was going to say, and what virtue she was going to attack? what fame she was going to de-over her door, 'Ite missa est; allez vous stroy? With her there was no means of en, la messe est dite;' a profane allusion, avoiding odium or ridicule; she spared no which may be thus translated: Depart one; she respected no one-herself less all members of French society, who are than anybody; she carried audacity to the daily proscribed, made fugitives, or execugreatest extent it could be carried. Had a [ted. You have decked me out to love me; writer of that period been as bold as Sophie depart, we are quits. I allowed myself to Arnould, he would have been sent to rot in be loved by you; I made you laugh by my the Bastile. Hands were clapped round wit; I made you partakers in my licentiousthis woman; her witticisms were laughed ness; I corrupted you, and you corruptat before uttered; and she talked like a ed me. Depart! you are conquered by the clever spoiled child, who, by talking a great people whose daughters you have dishonordeal, sometimes says very clever things: ed, and I am the daughter of the people. the rest goes for nothing. Such was the Thus a time always comes when vice restyle of this woman's success: she became venges itself on vice, corruption on corrupin her old age sharp, cutting, ill-natured, tion; and this is not one of the least interand cruel. The mots of Mademoiselle Ar-esting sights to a moralist.' cient French society under skepticism and the nobles, and she now witnessed the rise of a new society, born of belief and the sovereign will of a child of the people named Bonaparte; and the poor woman could not understand why the church and not the opera, the sword of Bonaparte and not the wit of Sophie Arnould, were employed in this resurrection of society." nould have been preserved, like those of all "Sophie Arnould died in 1802, forgotgreat people, and even occupy a considera- ten, sad, and wondering at what had come ble place amongst the ana. Unfortunately, to pass. She had witnessed the fall of anthe witty things which were repeated and said in the best houses in Paris, could not now be repeated in a tap room. Here are some, however, which are exquisite. She said one day to a very pretty but silly woman, who was complaining of having too many admirers, 'Oh! my dear, it is so easy for you to get rid of them! you have only to speak! Being one day found by a man of rank, her lover, but himself dissipated Another value of memoirs such as the and faithless, téte-à-tête with a Knight of foregoing is that they are pages of history Malta, "Of what do you complain?' said as well as pages of biography. Not only is she; the knight wages war against infi- the person vividly presented to you, but the dels.' One of her companions, who posses-age in which he lived is brought into view. sed a harsh and vulgar voice, was hissed on Read the Baron de Valcknaer's Memoires the stage. This is strange,' said Sophie; de Madame de Sévigné.' It is an ample 'that lady certainly has the voice of the biography; in the course of which all the people.' She said, on showing a snuff-box history of the period-all the celebrated on which were painted Sully and Choiseul, persons of the period-are passed in review.. 'Here is the receipt and here the expense.' Many critics object to this mode of writing To a young man who said in her presence, biograahy, as encroaching too largely on 'L'esprit court les rues,' she replied, 'C'est the province of history; but the objection un bruit que les sots font courir.' She is not valid. The celebrated persons, whose jested thus all her life upon the most serious lives men are curious to read, were in a subjects; and even when this society, of great measure the creatures of their age; which she had been both slave and mistress, in this respect it is impossible to understand was broken up,-when the France of the nobles of 1740 had become the France of 1793,-when all this gay world of which she had been the plaything, and which had been hers, was scattered here and there, in prisons, in exile, and on the scaffold,-this ungrateful girl never ceased laughing. She bought at Luzarches, at no great distance from the château of Champlâtreux, a presbytery, the cure of which was a wanderer and fugitive, and established herself in this sacred house, there quietly to end a life of passions and riotousness. She even wrote their actions or appreciate their motives, without a distinct view of the spirit of their times; and by such a view we do not mean a dissertation, but a picture. The two most important qualities of a biography are represented in the two foregoing specimens by Jules Janin. Add to them the necessary dates, and a few of the omitted facts, which would supply the wants of those who consulted them merely for reference on such points, and you have perfect biographies. A. G. FEAST OF THE POETS FOR SEPTEMBER 1844. From Tait's Magazine. PART I. BALLADS AND SONGS. THE ANCIENT GENTLEWOMAN.* SHE was a good old soul as you did ever see: Her father was an admiral, a brave old boy was he, Who fought upon the salt, salt sea, and many a scar he bore; But he rests within the family vault, and he will fight no more. She was an ancient gentlewoman, of lineage high and bold; And they said she had a great huge chest filled to the brim with gold; For there her rents she did lay by, that were paid most punctually, And at her girdle, all the day, she bore about the key. And her chambers they were richly deck't, with velvet, and with pall; And many a portrait, dark and grim, in armor clad the wall; And lovely ladies, too, attired in silken sheen were there, With poodle dogs upon their knees, and powder in their hair. And rusty armor hung around, that her greatsires had worn, Mixed with the spoils of sylvan war, with spear, and bow, and horn: And paved with marble was the hall; and by the chimney there She sat, and listened to the poor within an oaken chair. Her rivers they were filled with fish, her pastures swarmed with kine, And in her cellars there was store of old and generous wine: But though she cheered her neighbors' hearts, she And she had a chapel in her house, and there she went each day; She had an ancient chaplain, too-his hair was silver gray Amidst her household did she kneel, upon the cushioned floor, And many a stranger there would pray, who ne'er had prayed before. She was a stately gentlewoman, of form erect and proud; And though her heart was warm and kind, her voice was stern and loud: She leaned upon an oaken staff, her face was long and thin; And many a straggling hair appeared upon her maiden chin. Hast heard the ancient story, The worthy old Greek theme Of lovely Galatea And ugly Polypheme? It is a tale of sadness, As many tales there be: Attend and I will tell it, As it was told to me. In ancient Sicily- That rules the stormy sea- Beneath his shaggy hair, (So ancient Virgil sayeth,) One big round eye did stare. His trunk was like a huge tree Deep buried in a moss; S. R. W. His skin was hard and horny, Like some rhinoceros. He was a bloody savage, Till he could drink no more. (That such a thing should be!) Of lovely Galatea, A daughter of the sea. And swore she might command him But the maid was cold as marble, From Pluto's gloomy sphere. Doris More than mad Triton's eye; E'en wert thou free from blame,- Oust me I vow revenge!" And Ocean from its blue depths Replied, "It will be strange !" And from their hollow caverns The rocks replied-" Revenge!" II. It was an hour of stillness, Thin clouds were floating idly, The green and healthy braes. The flowers were half awake, And toilsome men were basking Like the serpent in the brake. The Borean winds were sleeping, Asleep was ocean's roar, And ripple was chasing ripple On the silver-sounding shore. The countless ocean daughters Were weaving from the waves Bright webs of scattered sun-light To deck their sparry caves; And in her secret chamber, Belit with emeralds rare, The sea-queen Amphitrite Was platting her sea-green hair. Were dumb-for father Neptune Within a silent bay, The bosomed beach enclose; Into that face so fair; He drank the dew of heaven, Deep draughts of beauty rare, He sang he sang, his sweet day labors, Beneath the sunny copes, She bended gently o'er him, Beneath his breast of snow; She smoothed the mossy pillow |