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Ricordi politici e civili, No. 118, Op. Ined. vol. i. See De Stendhal, Histoire de la peinture en Italie, pp. 285-91, for a curious catalogue of examples. The modern sense of honor is based, no doubt, to some extent on a delicate amour propre, which makes a man desirous of winning the esteem of his neighbors for its own sake.
That she was now middle-aged, stout and dowdy "like a cook with pretty hands," as Stendhal said of her mattered nothing to her admirers, many of whom remembered her in the days of her lovely youth. She was, in their eyes, as much a Queen as if she wore a crown; and, moreover, she was a woman of magnetic charm and clever brain.
Presupposing always, to begin with, that the term "philosopher" be not confined to the philosopher who writes books, or even introduces HIS philosophy into books! Stendhal furnishes a last feature of the portrait of the free-spirited philosopher, which for the sake of German taste I will not omit to underline for it is OPPOSED to German taste.
Stendhal speaks of Byron's "Apollonic power;" and Sainte Beuve writes to the same intent, with some judicious caveats. M. Taine concludes his survey of the romantic movement with the remark: "In this splendid effort, the greatest are exhausted. One alone Byron attains the summit.
It was le coup de foudre of a French writer on the affections M. Stendhal. Miss Birkenhead had won my heart from the first moment of our meeting. Why should I attempt to describe a psychological experience as rare as instantaneous conversion, or more so? Miss Birkenhead was tall and dark, with a proud pale face, and eyes which unmistakably indicated the possession of a fine sense of humour.
There is a maxim by Chateaubriand, or perhaps it was Stendhal maxims have a way of leaving home which claims that the equilibrium of society rests upon the acquiescence of its oppressed and unfortunate. In passing the battered chestnut roaster of the unfortunate Mottka, Policeman Billings was aware in his own way of the foregoing elements of social philosophy.
It is the method of Richardson flowering in a time of greater freedom and more cynical questioning of the gods. But giving Stendhal his full mint and cummin of praise, he yet was but the forerunner of a mightier man. Undoubtedly, he prepared the soil and was a necessary link in the chain of development wherewith fiction was to forge itself an unbreakable sequence of strength.
On the subject of Touraine Stendhal is extremely refreshing; he finds the scenery meagre and much overrated, and proclaims his opinion with perfect frankness.
Musset occupied three pages, and Victor Duray thirty, Lamartine seven pages and Thiers almost forty. Copious narrations of the French defeats of 1870 had been extracted from La Debacle of Zola. Neither Montaigne, nor La Rochefoucauld, nor La Bruyere, nor Diderot, nor Stendhal, nor Balzac, nor Flaubert appeared. Part II: Middle forms. 7th Edition, 1902, Dumont-Schauberg.
Stendhal died in Paris in March 1842; and granting that he was at Civita Vecchia when the poet made his earlier voyage no certainty even while he held the appointment the ship cannot have touched there on its way to Trieste. It is also a mistake to suppose that Mr. Browning was specially interested in ancient chronicles, as such.
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