in the _Soirees de St. Petersbourg_, which Joseph de Maistre is
said to have drawn from his less formidable brother, often suggests
itself as one follows the whimsicalities of the _Voyage_ and the
_Expedition_. The affectation is so natural, the mannerism so simple,
that it is some time before one realises how great in degree both are.
[Sidenote: His illustrations on the lighter side of Sensibility.]
Looked at from a certain point of view, Xavier de Maistre illustrates
the effect of the Sensibility theory on a thoroughly good-natured,
cultivated, and well-bred man of no particular force or character or
strength of emotion. He has not the least intention of taking
Sensibility seriously, but it is the proper thing to take it somehow or
other. So he sets himself to work to be a man of feeling and a humorist
at the same time. His encounter with the leper is so freshly and simply
told, there is such an air of genuineness about it, that it seems at
first sight not merely harsh, but unappreciative, to compare it to
Sterne's account of his proceedings with his monks and donkeys, his
imaginary prisoners, and his fictitious ensigns. Yet there is a real
contact between them. Both have the chief note of Sensibility, the
taking an emotion as a thing to be savoured and degusted
deliberately--to be dealt with on scientific principles and strictly
according to the rules of the game. One result of this proceeding, when
pursued for a considerable time, is unavoidably a certain amount of
frivolity, especially in dealing with emotions directly affecting the
player. Sympathy such as that displayed with the leper may be strong and
genuine, because there is no danger about it; there is the _suave mari
magno_ preservative from the risk of a too deep emotion. But in matters
which directly affect the interest of the individual it does not do to
be too serious. The tear of Sensibility must not be dropped in a manner
giving real pain to the dropper. Hence the humoristic attitude. When
Xavier de Maistre informs us that "le grand art de l'homme de genie est
de savoir bien elever sa bete," he means a great deal more than he
supposes himself to mean. The great art of an easy-going person, who
believes it to be his duty to be "sensible," is to arrange for a series
of emotions which can be taken gently.
The author of the _Voyage_ takes his without any extravagance. He takes
good care not to burn his fingers metaphorically in this matter, though
he
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