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WHOSE maiden name was Moller, was born in Hamburg, March 19th, 1728. In 1751, the famous Frederic Gottleib Klopstock became acquainted with this young enthusiastic German maiden. The story of their courtship and marriage has been told by the lady herself; any abridgement would mar its beautiful simplicity; even its imperfect English has the charm of truth; it is like the lisping, stammering language of a child, who is only earnest to make you understand its feelings, and caring nothing for the criticism its language may cause. These letters of Mrs. Klopstock were addressed to Richardson the novelist, author of Sir Charles Grandison.
You will know all that concerns me. Love, dear sir, is all what me concerns! and love shall be all what I will tell you in this letter.
In one happy night I read my husband's poem, the Messiah. I was extremely touched with it. The next day I asked one of his friends, who was the author of this poem? and this was the first time I heard Klopstock's name. I believe, I fell immediately in love with him. At the least, my thoughts were ever with him filled, especially because his friend told me very much of his character. But I had no hopes ever to see him, when quite unexpectedly I heard that he should pass through Hamburg. I wrote immediately to the same friend, for procuring by his means that I might see the author of the Messiah, when in Hamburg. He told him that a certain girl at Hamburg wished to see him, and, for all recommendation, showed him some letters, in which I made bold to criticise Klopstock's verses. Klopstock came, and came to me. I must confess, that, though greatly prepossessed of his qualities, I never thought him the amiable youth whom I found him. This made its effect.
After having seen him two hours, I was obliged to pass the evening in a company, which had never been so wearisome to me. I could not speak, I could not play; I thought I saw nothing but Klopstock. I saw him the next day, and the following, and we were very seriously friends. But the fourth day he departed. It was an strong hour the hour of his departure! He wrote soon after, and from that time our correspondence began to be a very diligent one. I sincerely believed my love to be friendship. I spoke with my friends of nothing but Klopstock, and showed his letters. They rallied at me and said I was in love. I rallied them again, and said that they must have a very friendshipless heart, if they had no idea of friendship to a man as well as to a woman. Thus it continued eight months, in which time my friends found as much love in Klopstock's letters as in me. I perceived it likewise, but I would not believe it. At the last Klopstock said plainly that he loved, and I startled as for a wrong thing. I answered, that it was no love, but friendship, as
it was what I felt for him; we had not seen one another enough to love. (As if love must have more time than friendship:) This was sincerely my meaning, and I had this meaning till Klopstock came again to Hamburg. This he did a year after we had seen one another the first time. We saw, we were friends, we loved; and we believed that we loved; and a short time after I could even tell Klopstock that I loved. But we were obliged to part again and wait two years for our wedding. My mother would not let marry me a stranger. I could marry then without her consentment, as by the death of my father my fortune depended not on her; but this was an horrible idea for me; and thank heaven that I have prevailed by prayers. At this time, knowing Klopstock, she loves him as her lifely son, and thanks God that she has not persisted. We married, and I am the happiest wife in the world. In some few months it will be four years that I am so happy, and still I dote upon Klopstock as if he was my bridegroom.
He is good, really good, in all his actions, in all the foldings of his heart. I know him; and sometimes I think if we knew others in the same manner, the better we should find them. For it may be that an action displeases us which would please us, if we knew its true aim and whole extent. No one of my friends is so happy as I am; but no one has had courage to marry as I did: They have married-as people marry; and they are happy- as people are happy.
HAMBURG, August 26, 1758.
Why think you, Sir, that I answer so late? I will tell you my reasons. Have not you guessed that I, summing up all my happinesses, and not speaking of children, had none? Yes, Sir, this has been my only wish ungratified for these four years. But thanks, thanks to God! I am in full hope to be a mother in the month of November. The little preparations for my child (and they are so dear to me) have taken so much time, that I could not answer your letter, nor give you the promised scenes of the Messiah. This is likewise the reason wherefore I am still here; for properly we dwell in Copenhagen. Our staying here is only on a visit (but a long one) which we pay my family. My husband has been obliged to make a little visit alone to Copenhagen, I not being able to travel yet. He is yet absent a cloud over my happiHe will soon return-But what does that help? he is yet equally absent! We write to each other every post- but what are letters to presence? But I will speak no more of this little cloud; I will only tell my happiness! But I cannot tell how I rejoice! A son of my dear Klopstock! Oh, when shall I have him! It is long since I made the remark that the children of geniuses are not geniuses. No children at all, bad sons, or, at the most, lovely daughters, like you and Milton. But a daughter or a son, only with a good heart, without genius, I will nevertheless love dearly.
This is no letter, but only a newspaper of your Hamburg daughter. When I have my husband
and my child, I will write you more, (if God gives me health and life.) You will think that I shall be not a mother only, but a nurse also; though the latter (thank God! that the former is not so too) is quite against fashion and good manners, and though nobody can think it possible to be always with the child at home. M. KLOPSTOCK.
But these hopes were never, in this life, to be realized; the mother and babe both died; — and the poor bereaved husband and father was left desolate! In a letter to a friend, Klopstock describes the manner of her death and their last parting. After having prayed with her for a long time, he said, as he bent over her, "Be my guardian angel, if God permits." "You have ever been mine," she replied. And when with stifled voice he again repeated, "If God permits, be my guardian angel!" she fixed her eyes upon him full of love, and said, "Ah, who would not be your guardian angel!"
Just before she died, she said, with the serene smile of an angel, My love, you will follow me!"
Some time after her decease, Klopstock published her writings, which are, "Letters from the Dead to the Living;" "The Death of Abel," a tragedy; and several small poems. Her husband says that these were written entirely for her own amusement, and that she always blushed and was very much embarrassed whenever he found her writing, and expressed a wish to see what she had done.
He says, too, "that her taste was correct, and highly cultivated, and that her criticisms upon his poetry were always extremely apt and judicious; he knew instantly by her countenance, whether his thoughts pleased her; and so perfect was their sympathy, that their souls could hold delightful communion almost without the aid of language."
A CELEBRATED Dutch artist, was born at Amsterdam, iu 1650. She married Adrian Block, and arrived at great excellence in drawing, painting, and embroidery. She also modelled in wax, made artificial ornaments, and flowers; but her principal excellence was in cutting figures out of paper with the scissors; and her portraits and landscapes in this way were so celebrated, that foreigners visited Amsterdam to see them, amongst whom was Peter the Great, of Russia. Sea-pieces, animals, architecture, and still-life, were her favourite subjects; but she also cut portraits on paper with as striking a resemblance as if they had been painted by the ablest artists. The elector-palatine offered her one thousand florins for three small pictures of her cutting, which she refused as insufficient. At the request of the emperor of Germany, she designed a trophy with the arms of the empire, ornamented with laurel crowns, wreaths of flowers, and other suitable designs, which she executed with great correctness of drawing and wonderful beauty. The empress gave her for it four thousand florins. She also cut the emperor's portrait, which is hung up in
the imperial cabinet at Vienna. She died in 1715, aged sixty-five.
KÖNIGSMARK, MARIE AURORE, COUNTESS OF,
ONE of the numerous mistresses of Augustus II., king of Poland and elector of Saxony, was born in 1678. She was descended from one of the oldest families in Brandenburg, and was a woman of great beauty and talents, and of uncommon political abilities. Thoroughly educated, she spoke several languages, played on various instruments, composed music, and sang and painted with great skill; she also excelled in conversation. In 1678 she went to Dresden, and, at first sight, Augustus fell in love with her. She rejected his overtures for some time, but at last yielded, and became the mother of the famous Marshal Saxe. When the love of Augustus declined, the countess of Königsmark conducted herself so discreetly that he always remained her friend. By his influence she was appointed superintendent of Quedlinberg, in 1700, where she remained till her death, in 1728. She was beloved by all around her, and was very kind to the poor.
KRÜDENER, JULIANNA, BARONESS OF VALERIA,
WAS born in Riga, about 1776. Her father, Baron Vietinghoff, one of the richest landed proprietors in Courland, gave her a careful education. When a young girl, her parents took her to Paris, where her father's house was the resort of men of talents; and her wit, beauty, and cheerfulness, were much admired. In her fourteenth year, she was married to Baron Krüdener, a Livonian, about thirty-six years old. She accompanied her husband to Copenhagen and Venice, where he was Russian minister. In these places, and in St. Petersburg, Madame Krüdener, placed by rank and wealth in the first circles, was one of their most brilliant ornaments. She was surrounded by admirers of her talents and beauty; but she was not happy. She became the mother of two children; but her natural liveliness of temperament, and the allurements of the world, led her into levities which finally caused a divorce from her husband. In 1791 she returned to her father's house, in Riga, where she was considered one of the most amiable and accomplished ladies, with a feeling heart and lively imagination. But Riga did not satisfy her, and she lived alternately at Paris and St. Petersburg. Her love of amusements involved her, in both places, in many difficulties. In the midst of these, she wrote a novel, of which she had formed the plan at an earlier period"Valerie ou Lettres de Gustave de Linar à Erneste de G."-in which she delineated certain scenes of her own life. The disasters of Prussia arrived; and Madame Krüdener, being then about the person of the queen of Prussia, and participating in her affliction, turned her mind from the pleasures of the world to the subject of religion, though, perhaps, little change may have been produced in the essentials of her character. Ambition, a lively sensibility, and love of excitement, seem to have
remained the great springs of her actions. She was now attracted by the principles of the Moravians. She went again to Paris, where she found many disciples, chiefly among those who, having been accustomed to live on excitements from early youth, and having become sickened with those of fashionable life, turn with pleasure to those of devotion. On the commencement of the war of the northern powers against Napoleon, Madame Krüdener went to Geneva. She began to believe herself called to preach the gospel to the poor; and therefore visited the prison at Heidelberg, and preached to the criminals condemned to death. In 1814 she returned to Paris, where she became acquainted with Alexander, the emperor of Russia, who had already shown a disposition to religious contemplations, and upon whom her conversation had great influence. In Paris she had
admitted to see her. At length the police transported her to the Russian frontier, where she received orders not to go to Moscow or to St. Petersburg. In 1824, she went with her daughter and her son-in-law to the Crimea, and died there the same year, December 13th, at Karafubasar. She appears to have been an amiable enthusiast, pouring out pious effusions, mingled with arrogant prophecies; and is one of the many instances where ardent zeal and good intention (for it is probable that she considered herself to be doing right) are by no means sufficient to render one capable of effecting a great reformation.
prayer-meetings, attended by distinguished person- LABBÉ, LOUISE, (LA BELLE CORDIÉRE),
ages, where she was seen in the back-ground of a suite of rooms, in the dress of a priestess, kneeling in prayer. It is very generally believed that her conversations with Alexander were mainly instrumental in suggesting the idea of the holy alliance: it is certain that in her later sermons she held it up almost as a new covenant. In 1815 she went to Bâle, where a small community of devout mystics was already collected. Here a young clergyman of Geneva followed her, and preached in the prayer-meetings which the baroness held every evening. Women and girls went in numbers to these meetings, and gave liberally to the poor, often to a degree much beyond what they could afford. effect.
These meetings had a very bad moral Cases were reported which excited great scandal, and a preacher named Fäsch finally denounced the priestess. The magistracy of Bâle obliged her to leave the city. She experienced the same treatment at Lörrach, Aaran, and other places; yet, according to the common course of things, the number of her followers increased, particularly among young females. At the same time, she carried on an extensive correspondence, and money was sent to her from great distances. In 1816, with her daughter, she went to reside not far from Bâle, in Baden. Here she assembled many poor people, great numbers of whom were vagabonds, whom she provided with food and lodgings without labour. These were very ready to profit by the kindness of the benevolent lady, who preached against the cold-heartedness of the rich as the source of all evil. The public peace was so much disturbed by these proceedings, that her place of residence was surrounded by soldiers, in 1817, and her disciples carried away to Lörrach. She wrote, in consequence, a remarkable letter to the minister at Carlsruhe, in which she spoke of the "desert of civilization" through which she was obliged to wander, and reminded him of the law of God, requiring the authorities to take care of the poor. She now travelled about, preaching in the open air, often surrounded by thousands of people, and giving bountifully to the poor. Wherever she arrived, she was under the surveillance of the police. In Leipsic, police officers were even placed at her door, so that nobody could be
Was born in Lyons, in 1525 or 1526. Her father, Pierre Chardin, surnamed Labbé, was a ropemaker or seller. He had her carefully instructed in the Greek, Latin, Spanish, and Italian languages, and also in riding and military exercises. She was fond of music, hunting, and war. Her boldness was increased by the example of the heroines of her own time. Before she was sixteen, she went to Perpignan, in the army of the young dauphin, where, under the name of Captain Loys, she showed great valour. Among the numerous admirers attracted by her beauty, her talents, and her courage, a young warrior, whose name is unknown, inspired her with a lasting passion.
Louise Labbé married Ennemond Perrin, a wealthy rope-seller, by which she was enabled to devote herself entirely to her literary tastes. Her house, near Lyons, became the resort of men of letters, and persons of distinction. In these societies, where Louise was the presiding genius, every thing was collected that could gratify the understanding, delight the imagination, or captivate the senses. The charms, talents, and assemblies of La belle Cordiére, excited jealousy, and provoked scandal in the society of Lyons. Her writings, too, sometimes voluptuous, and sometimes satirical, afforded new provocation for censure, for which her conduct gave suspicion if not proof.
The most celebrated of her works is a fiction entitled "Debat de Folie et d'Amour;" it is dedicated to her illustrious friend Clemence de Bourges. This piece is full of wit, originality, and beauty. Erasmus and La Fontaine were both indebted to it; the first, for the idea of "The Praise of Folly," and the last, for "L'Amour et la Folie." truth, La Fontaine's poem is only a versification of the prose story of Louise Labbé. Her elegies and sonnets are highly esteemed by the French.
We may find some excuse for her conduct in the character of the age, when gallantry was not considered dishonourable; and she herself was surrounded by a crowd of agreeable and distinguished, but licentious men. Her generosity, her taste for learning, and her acquirements, so extraordinary for the times, effaced this stain in the eyes of
most of her contemporaries, as we learn from tributes of esteem paid her. The street in Lyons where her house was situated was called after her, and still bears the name of La Belle Cordiére. The charm of her conversation, her accomplishments, her talents, the verses which she composed and sung to the lute, contributed to fascinate her admirers to the end of her life. She died in 1566.
LABROUSE, CLOTILDE SUZETTE
A CELEBRATED French visionary, was born May 8th, 1747, of respectable parents, in the town of Vauxains, in Perigord, in the department of Dordogne. From the age of four she displayed deep religious fervour, and her greatest happiness was in the performance of her religious duties, to which, notwithstanding the remonstrances of her mother, and the raillery of her young companions, she devoted the most of her time. From her earliest years she regarded herself as an especial instrument to make known the will of God. She fasted, wore a girdle lined with sharp points, slept on the floor in winter, cut off her beautiful hair, and gave up music, of which she was very fond. She had offers of marriage, from a young man of great piety and immense fortune, whom she liked, but refused to marry, as she said an internal voice commanded her to do, that she might not fail in the great mission which had devolved on her.
Her strongest desire was to travel to convert mankind, but this she was prevented from doing till 1779; she hen escaped from her home, and arrived safely in Paris, where she passed some time under the protection of the Duchess de Bourbon. Here she was visited by all classes of people, and regarded as a prophetess. She predicted various events, and carried on a profound argument with the Abbé Maury, in which she came off victorious. Leaving Paris, where she had been very successful, she returned to Perigord, and went from there to Rome, to convert the pope and cardinals "to the principles of liberty and equality; of the civil constitution of the clergy; and to persuade the pope to abdicate his temporal power." Suzette preached at the different places through which she passed; but when she reached Boulogne, in October, 1792, she was ordered by the pope's legate to leave the city. She took refuge in Viterbo; but the pope had her seized, and confined in the castle of San Angelo. She was not ill-treated, however; and when the Directory, in 1796, requested her liberation, she replied that she did not wish to leave Italy till 1800, when she had predicted that there would be a sign in heaven which would open the eyes of the pope himself. But when the French took Rome, in 1798, she returned to Paris, where she was surrounded by a number of disciples, although the year 1800 passed without the sign. Her followers, many of whom were learned men, remained steadfast, however, and Suzette continued to have visions till she was seventy-four. She died in 1821. Pontard, bishop of Paris, remained faithful to her to the last.
ONE of the terrible heroines or rather furies of the French revolution, born about 1768, was an actress of high reputation, and very beautiful. She was one of the leaders in that crowd of ferocious women who attacked the Hotel-de-Ville, and obliged the king and his family to return from Versailles to Paris. She founded a club of women, in which she was the chief speaker; and joined in the attack on the Tuilleries, in which she showed such intrepidity, that the city of Marseilles decreed to her a civic crown. She entered with her whole soul into all the scenes of savage cruelty which disgraced those times. After having been the recognised leader and orator of the republican women for some time, she suddenly lost nearly all her influence by falling violently in love with, and endeavouring with her usual reckless impetuosity, to save, but in vain, a young nobleman who was imprisoned.
The latter part of her life was passed in a small shop, where she gained her livelihood by the sale of petty articles. The time or manner of her death is not known.
BELONGED to the noble family of Noailles, and was married, when quite young, to General Lafayette. When, in 1793, he was imprisoned at Olmutz by the Austrians, she was confined in Paris, and only saved from the guillotine by the death of Robespierre. The first use she made of her freedom was to proceed to Vienna, where, through the compassion of prince de Rossenberg, she succeeded in obtaining an audience of the emperor. She pleaded earnestly for the release of her husband on the grounds of common justice and humanity, and urged her strong desire to see him restored to his family. The emperor said it was out of his power to grant her request, but he was willing she and her two daughters, (then about twelve and fifteen years of age,) should enliven the prisoner by taking up their abode with him. This indulgence was gratefully accepted, and the long-separated friends were restored to each other.
Madame Lafayette was deeply affected at the emaciated figure and pale countenance of her husband. She found him suffering under annoyances much worse than she had feared.
She wished to write to the emperor; but this was refused. She made applications for redress in other quarters, but received no answer, except, "Madame Lafayette has submitted to share the captivity of her husband. It is her own choice."
At length, her health, already impaired by sixteen months imprisonment in Paris, began to give way. She solicited permission to go to Vienna, to breathe pure air, and consult a physician. During two months she received no reply; but, at last, she was informed that the emperor permitted her to go out, upon condition that she never returned to the prison.
Being desired to signify her choice in writing, she wrote as follows.
"I consider it a duty to my family and friends
to desire the assistance necessary for my health; but they well know it cannot be accepted by me at the price attached to it. I cannot forget that while we were on the point of perishing, myself by the tyranny of Robespierre, and my husband by the physical and moral sufferings of captivity, I was not permitted to obtain any intelligence of him, nor to acquaint him that his children and myself were yet alive; and I shall not expose myself to the horrors of another separation. Whatever then may be the state of my health, and the inconveniences of this abode for my daughters, we will gratefully avail ourselves of his Imperial Majesty's generosity, in permitting us to partake this captivity in all its circumstances."
painfully interesting. She was united, before the age of twenty, to the Honourable William Lamb, (Lord Melbourne,) and was long the delight of the fashionable circles, from the singularity as well as the grace of her manners, her literary accomplishments, and personal attractions. On meeting with Lord Byron, she contracted an unfortunate attachment for the noble poet, which continued three years, and was the theme of much remark. The poet is said to have trifled with her feelings, and a rupture took place. "For many years Lady Caroline led a life of comparative seclusion, principally at Brocket Hall. This was interrupted by a singular and somewhat romantic occurrence. Riding with Mr. Lamb, she met, just by the park-gates, the hearse which was conveying the remains of Lord Byron to Newstead Abbey. She was taken home insensible: an illness of length and severity succeeded. Some of her medical attendants imputed her fits, certainly of great inco
After this, Madame Lafayette fearful of being separated from her husband, refrained from making any complaint; although the air of the prison was so foetid, that the soldiers, who brought food, covered their faces when they opened the door. She remained with him till he was set at free-herence and long continuance, to partial insanity. dom, after four years' captivity, by the intervention of Bonaparte. Madame Lafayette's health suffered so much from the close confinement, that she died soon after her release, in 1807.
LA FERTÉ IMBAULT, MARIA THERESA GEOFFRIN, MARCHIONESS DE, DAUGHTER of the celebrated Madame Geoffrin, was born at Paris in 1715. She married, in 1733, the Marquis de la Ferté, great-grandson of the marshal of that name; and distinguished herself, not only by her literary talents, but also by her opposition to the philosophical party among the French literati of the last century, with whom her mother had been intimately connected. In 1771, the Marquis de Croismare, a man of wit, and a friend of Madame de la Ferté Imbault, founded the burlesque order of the Lanturelas, of which he appointed that lady the grand-mistress, while he was himself the grand-master. This whimsical institution gave rise to a great many songs and lively verses; and it attracted so much attention that Catharine II. was accustomed to advise all the Russian nobles who visited Paris to become Lanturelus, an honour which was sought by several sovereign princes. The Marchioness drew up a series of extracts from the writings of the ancient Pagan and Christian philosophers, for the instruction of the grandchildren of Louis XV.; and she wrote a great number of letters to persons of rank and celebrity, which remain in manuscript in the hands of her husband's relations. She died at Paris, in 1791.
LAFITE, MARIE ELIZABETH DE, Was born at Paris in 1750, and died at London in 1794. She wrote "Reponses à Démêler ou Essai d'une Maniere d'éxercer l'attention;""Entretieres, Drames, et Contes Moraux, à l'usage des Enfans." She also translated into French, some of the works of Wieland, Gellert, and Lavater.
LAMB, LADY CAROLINE, DAUGHTER of the Earl of Besborough, was born in 1785. The history of Lady Caroline Lamb is
At this supposition she was invariably and bitterly indignant. Whatever be the cause, it is certain from that time her conduct and habits materially changed; and about three years before her death a separation took place between her and Mr. Lamb, who continued, however, frequently to visit, and, to the day of her death, to correspond with her. It is just to both parties to add, that Lady Caroline constantly spoke of her husband in the highest, and most affectionate terms of admiration and respect. A romantic susceptibility of temperament and character seems to have been the bane of this unfortunate lady. Her fate illustrates the wisdom of Thomson's advice
Then keep each passion down, however dear,
Lady Caroline Lamb was the authoress of three works of fiction, which, from extrinsic circumstances, were highly popular in their day. The first,
Glenarvon," was published in 1816; and the hero was understood to shadow forth the character and sentiments of Lord Byron! It was a representation of the dangers attending a life of fashion. The second, "Graham Hamilton," depicted the difficulties and dangers inseparable, even in the most amiable minds, from weakness and irresolution of character. The third, “Ada Reis," (1823,) is a wild Eastern tale, the hero being introduced as the Don Juan of his day, a Georgian by birth, who, like Othello, "is sold to slavery," but rises to honours and distinctions. In the end Ada is condemned, for various misdeeds, to eternal punishment!
THE daughter of respectable parents, was born in London about 1766. She was subject to attacks of insanity, and in one of them, in 1796, brought on by over-exertion, and anxiety about her mother, then quite an aged person, she stabbed her mother to the heart, killing her instantly. After recovering from this attack, she resided with her brother Charles, the well-known author of "Essays of Elia," who devoted his whole life to her. They