The earliest intercourse between Madame de Staël and Napoleon Bonaparte occurred between his return from Italy and his departure for Egypt, towards the end of 1797. At first she submitted as willingly as France—as indeed the whole world, to the fascination of his genius; but she was one of the earliest to discover that he was merely a skilful chess-player, who had chosen the human race as his adversary, and expected to checkmate it. She expressed her opinions openly and with all the force for which she was celebrated, and they left upon the first man of the day many unpleasant impressions. The future emperor gathered something from his brother Joseph concerning the principles of the most popular saloon in Paris, and watched for an opportunity to get rid of such an influential foe. Her father wrote a book which gave great umbrage. It was not deemed safe to touch him; but he who was reckoned the greatest hero of the modern world, was cowardly enough to visit the sin of the father upon the daughter; and so Madame de Staël was informed that her presence would be tolerated in Paris no longer. In 1802, she was exiled from France itself. Rejoining her sick husband, she closed his eyes in death at Poligny, and became an eligible widow. The death of her father in 1804, recalled her to Coppet. Subsequently, she was permitted to return to Paris. But fresh difficulties occurred with Napoleon, and she was banished anew to Coppet. In 1808, the Baron de Staël, secured an interview with the master of the world, and pleaded eloquently on behalf of his mother. The inexorable deliverance of the emperor is too characteristic and amusing to be omitted. “Let her go to Rome, Naples, Vienna, Berlin, Milan, Lyons; if she wants to publish libels, let her go to London. I should think of her with pleasure in any of those cities; but Paris, you see, is where I live myself, and I want none but those who love me there.” The Baron de Staël renewed his entreaties. “You are very young; if you were as old as I, you would judge more accurately; but I like to see a son pleading for his mother. If I had put her in prison, I would liberate her, but I will not recall her from exile. Every one knows that imprisonment is misery; but your mother need not be miserable when all Europe is left to her.” The man of destiny acted on the dictate of a sound prudential policy. A woman so uncompromising and fearless—of such weight of genius and reputation—was not to be tolerated in Paris by the head of a government more or less the sport of the hour. During this stay at Coppet she made the acquaintance (1810) of a young Italian of good family named Rocca, who had fought in the French army in Spain, and had gone to Geneva to recover from his wounds. The young officer of hussars, aged twenty-five, worshipped Madame de Staël; and she, a mature matron of forty-six, married him, but the marriage was kept secret, in order, it is said, that she should not be obliged to change her celebrated name.