ut we have yet to
learn that lead is priceless because it is weighty, or that gold is
valueless because it glitters. The Damascus blade is none the less keen
because it is polished, nor the Corinthian shaft less strong because it
is fluted and its capital curved."

The production of such a woman, in that age, in which there is so much
learning combined with eloquence, and elevation of sentiment with acute
observation, and the graces of style with the spirit of
philosophy,--candid, yet eulogistic; discriminating, yet
enthusiastic,--made a great impression on the mind of cultivated Europe.
Napoleon however, with inexcusable but characteristic meanness, would
not allow its publication. The police seized the whole edition--ten
thousand--and destroyed every copy. They even tried to get possession of
the original copy, which required the greatest tact on the part of the
author to preserve, and which she carried with her on all her travels,
for six years, until it was finally printed in London.

Long before this great work was completed,--for she worked upon it six
years,--Madame de Stael visited, with Sismondi, that country which above
all others is dear to the poet, the artist, and the antiquarian. She
entered that classic and hallowed land amid the glories of a southern
spring, when the balmy air, the beautiful sky, the fresh verdure of the
fields, and the singing of the birds added fascination to scenes which
without them would have been enchantment. Chateaubriand, the only French
writer of her day with whom she stood in proud equality, also visited
Italy, but sang another song; she, bright and radiant, with hope and
cheerfulness, an admirer of the people and the country as they were; he,
mournful and desponding, yet not less poetic, with visions of departed
glory which the vast debris of the ancient magnificence suggested to his
pensive soul, O Italy, Italy! land of associations, whose history never
tires; whose antiquities are perpetual studies; whose works of art
provoke to hopeless imitation; whose struggles until recently were
equally chivalric and unfortunate; whose aspirations have ever been with
liberty, yet whose destiny has been successive slaveries; whose hills
and plains and vales are verdant with perennial loveliness, though
covered with broken monuments and deserted cities; where monks and
beggars are more numerous than even scholars and artists,--glory in
debasement, and debasement in glory, reminding us of