MADAME DE STAEL*HOLSTEIN’S DELPHINE. 
Trarvest song of ‘the peasants of Languedoc, 
‘the burden of which was : 
~* *© Accordez-moi-donc, ma mére, 
» Pour mon époux, mon amant 5 
. JeVamerai tendrement, . 
/ Comine yous aimez mon. pere. 
«¢ Dear mother, for my husband give 
The youth whose constant vows L prove: 
~ Vil love him fondly while I live, 
_ AS you my father fondly love. 
<¢ The little girl lifted up to. her mother her 
charming eyes as she sung these words ;. her 
countenance was all innocence, but educated 
by parents who.live only on affection, she 
ve ght in her voice and look that me- 
jancholy,» which is so inieresting at such av 
age, that melancholy, which is a presage of 
the fate that threatens the unconscious in- 
fant: the mother took up the same burden, 
singing, ; 
> let©EIle t’'accorde ta metre, 
»» Pour ten époux, ton amant ; 
Tu Vaimeras tendrenent, 
~. dsinsi qu'elle aiine ton pére. 
«© Dear girl, I, for your husband, give 
The youth whose constant yows you prove ; 
Fondly you'll love him while you live ; 
As T your father fondly love. 
_.€* At these words there was something so 
impassioned in the look of Madame de Bel. 
mont, and so much modesty immediatel 
succeeded the emotion, that I felt myself pe- 
. netrated with enthusiastic respect for these 
family ties, of which we may be so proud 
while they render us happy. At length the 
father sung in his turn. 
«© Ma fille, imite ta:mére, 
») -Prends pour époux ton amant; 
~~» Bet chévis-le tendrement, 
“Comme eile a chéri ton ptre. 
~**Dear girl, your mother’s steps pursue ; 
uke the fond youth whose vows vou prove; 
And love him with affection true, 
For such to me your mother’s love. 
i mo The voice of M. de Belmont was lost as 
he uttered these words, and it was not with- 
outa considerable effort he recovered it, so as 
for all three to repeat the burden together to 
a mountain air, in which fancy scemed to 
r the echoes of the Pyrenees. 
hie. Their voices were perfectly true, and the 
onorous, base of the husband gave a mascu- 
é dignity tothe softer tones of the females; 
cir situation, the expression of their coun- 
janees, all was in harmony with the purest 
sibility; from which nothing distracted the 
agination, or even lefi it any thing to de-- 
Delphine has since told me that she 
isso much aflected by this pertect union 
-eyery thing capable of moving the heart, 
t she wanted power to support it. Her- 
8 had nearly suffocated her, when Ma- 
me de Belmont, almost throwing herself 
10 her arms, said to ber,—Amiable Del- 
ine, I know you well, but do you suppose 
621 
we are unhappy? Oh, how much.are you 
mistaken! And as if the music had in an in- 
stant established an intimacy between us, she 
seated hetself by Madame..d’Albémar, and 
said to her, When I knew you ten years ago, 
M. de Belmont had already, loved me for 
some years, but as it was apprehended he 
would lose his sight, my relauions objected 
to our marriage. . He became completely 
blind, and I then no longer paid any atten- 
tion to my family. Every moment's delay, 
when I was become so necessary to him, ap- 
peared to me insupportable ; and as I had 
neither father nor mother, I thought I hada 
right to determine for myself. I married hin 
without the knowledge of my relations, and 
for some time I suffered enovgh from their 
threats to annul the marriage : but when they 
were thoroughly convinced that it was not in 
their power, they eudeavoured all they could: 
to ruin us, and succeeded. However, as I 
had been for some tiin¢ under apprehénsions 
that they would effect a separation between 
me and M. de Belmont, I was scarcely sen- 
sible of the loss of our fortune, my imagina- 
tion being struck only with the misfortune I 
had escaped. 
«« My husband,’she continued, ‘ instructed 
his son, I educated my daughter, and our po- 
verty naturally bringing us closer to our chil: 
dren, affords us new enjoyments. When we 
are pertectly happy in our affections, per- 
haps certain misfortunes, which strengthen 
our ties by the power of circumstances, are 
favours of Providence. I should not venture 
to say so before M. de Belmont, did TI net 
know that his blindness does not render him 
unhappy ; but this accident fixes him in the 
bosom of his family ; it renders my arm, my 
voice, my presence necessary to him every in- 
stant: he has seen me in the days of my early 
youth, he willalways retain the same remem- 
brance of me, and I may be permitted to 
love bim with all the enthusiasm of affec- 
tion, without the expression of my_senti- 
ments being checked by that timidity, which 
the loss.of personal charms induces. I will 
say it before M. de Belmont, madam, he 
must hear what I think of him, for I will 
not quit him an instant, even to-indulge my- 
self in the pleasure of praising him. The 
first happiness of a woman is to have married 
aman whom she respects as much as she 
loves him ; who is superior to her in talents 
and frame of mind, and who decides on every 
thing for her, not domineering over her will, 
but enlightening her understanding, and sup- 
porting her weakness. Even on .occasions 
when her opinion differs from his, she yields 
with pleasure and confidence to him who is 
responsible for their common lot, and can 
alone repair an error, even if he should com- 
mitone. That marriage may fulfil the de 
sign of nature, the-hasband should possess a 
superiority over his wife by his real merit, a 
superiority which she may acknowledge, and 
by which she may profit; unhappy the wo- 
amen obliged to conduct chemngtives through 
