Some protests against the growing despotism proceeded from the Tribunat, and notably from Constant. It is superfluous to say that Madame de Staël applauded these with fervor. It is well known how, the evening previous to a celebrated speech which he was about to make, Constant consulted her on the subject. She encouraged him warmly, although already perceiving that the path which she had elected to tread would, in all likelihood, lead to exile. The salon was full of her friends at the time, but Constant warned her that, if he spoke the next day, everybody would desert her. “You must obey your conscience,” she replied; but adds that, had she known what she would have to suffer from that day, and throughout the next ten years, her answer might have been different. But here we think that Madame de Staël’s literary instinct carried her away. She was very sincere, but very imaginative, and, when writing for the public, it must often have been difficult for her to distinguish between what she felt _before_ and _after_ the fact. Considering what her disposition was, and the opportunities for eloquence afforded both to herself and Constant by an attitude of hostility to Napoleon, it is impossible to resist the conclusion that she enjoyed her opposition with one-half of her nature, if she regretted its results with the other. For some weeks after Constant’s speech Madame de Staël’s salon, usually so animated, was silent and deserted. Joseph Bonaparte was forbidden by his brother to attend it; but most people needed no prohibition, they absented themselves of their own accord under various pretexts. Fouché, the Minister of Police, called on her, and insinuated that a brief retirement into the country would be advisable, as giving the storm time to blow over. She took the hint, and retired for a short time to St. Ouen. On her return to Paris she avers that she did not find Napoleon’s wrath at all appeased. Apparently she expected it to die a spontaneous death, for she did not adopt the only means by which she could have pacified him, but continued to applaud, if not instigate, an active hostility to his measures. It would have been grand and magnanimous of Napoleon to have despised the enmity of a woman, but he was neither grand nor magnanimous. Moreover, the last thing which Madame de Staël probably desired was to be despised. Nobody can deny her the meed of admiration which she deserved for her love of liberty, and the indomitable spirit with which, when in exile, she refused to conciliate her oppressor by one word of praise. But, inasmuch as she knew with whom she had to deal, and what would be the consequence of her actions, one must admit that the amount of pity which she claimed for herself, and has generally received, is excessive. She was in direct contradiction to her own theories of a woman’s true duty, when interfering in politics; and in being treated by Napoleon as a man might have been, she paid the penalty of the splendid