rk on that country, in 1810 going _incognito_ to
Paris to have it printed. Ten thousand copies, ready for sale, were
destroyed before reaching the public. This work opened the German
world to the French; it applied, to a great nation, the doctrine of
progress, defending the independence and originality of nations, while
endeavoring to show that the future lay in the reciprocal respect
of the rights of people, declaring that nations are not at all the
arbitrary work of men or the fatal work of circumstances, and that the
submission of one people to another is contrary to nature. She wished
to make "poor and noble Germany" conscious of its intellectual
riches, and to prove that Europe could obtain peace only through
the liberation of that country. The censors accused her of lack
of patriotism in provoking the Germans to independence, and of
questionable taste in praising their literature; consequently, the
book was denounced, all the copies obtainable were destroyed, and a
vigorous search for the manuscript was undertaken. After this episode,
her friends were not permitted to visit her at Coppet.

In 1811 she was secretly married to a young Italian officer, Albert de
Rocca, a handsome man of twenty-three--she was then forty-five. In him
she realized the conditions which she described in _Delphine_, namely,
a man who braved an opinion and prejudices; and she was ready to
submit herself to him, Coppet became the centre for endless pleasures
and fetes; Mme. de Stael began to write comedies and to forget Paris
entirely. This blissful happiness was suddenly checked by the emperor,
who determined to show his displeasure and also to give evidence
of his power by banishing Schlegel and exiling Mme. Recamier and De
Montmorency, who continued to visit Mme. de Stael. Fear for the safety
of her husband and children influenced her to leave for Russia, where
the czar ordered all Russians to honor her as the enemy of Napoleon.
Indeed, she was everywhere received like a visiting queen.

In the autumn of 1816 she returned to Paris, and spent a number of
months very happily in her old style--in the society of the salon.
Though devoured by insomnia, enervated by the use of opium, and
besieged by fear of death, she accepted all invitations, and kept
open house herself, receiving in the morning, at dinner, and in the
evening; and though at night she paced the floor for hours or
tossed about on her bed until morning, she was yet fresh for all