“ ... Toward the close of the last summer arrived here as a sort of semi official appendage to the British embassy an old acquaintance of yours, Sir Francis D’Ivernois, who as you know has been for many years a distinguished political writer in the French language and in the Interest of the British Government. He came not I believe with, but very soon after, the Embassador Lord Cathcart.[18] just at the same time a lady of celebrated fame, Madame de Staël, the daughter of Mr. Necker, was also here on a transient visit.[19] As I had not the honor of being personally known to Madame de Staël and as we had just received information of the American Declaration of war against Britain, I had no expectation of having any communication or intercourse either with the Embassador or the lady. And I regretted this the less as my whole soul was at that period absorbed in the distressed situation of my family.... Early one morning I received a note from Madame de Staël, requesting me to call on her at her lodgings that same day at noon as she wished to speak to me on a subject respecting America.
“I went accordingly at the hour appointed and upon entering the lady’s _salon_ found there a company of some fifteen or twenty persons, not a soul of whom I had ever seen before. An elderly gentleman in the full uniform of an English General was seated on a sofa and the lady whom I immediately perceived to be Madame de Staël was complimenting him with equal elegance and fluency upon the glories of his nation, his countryman, Lord Wellington, and his own. The Battle of Salamanca and the bombardment of Copenhagen were themes upon which much was to be said and upon which she said much.[20]
“When I went in she intermitted her discourse for a moment to receive me and offer me a seat which I immediately took and for about half an hour had the opportunity to admire the brilliancy of her genius as it sparkled incessantly in her conversation. There was something a little too broad and direct in the substance of the panegyrics which she pronounced to allow them the claim of refinement. There was neither disguise nor veil to cover their naked beauties, but they were expressed with so much variety and vivacity that the hearers had not time to examine the thread of their texture. Lord Cathcart received the compliments pointed at himself with becoming modesty; those to his nation with apparent satisfaction and those to the conquest of Salamanca with silent acquiescence. The lady insisted that the British was the most astonishing nation of antient or modern times, the only preservers of social order, the defenders exclusively of the liberties of mankind, to which his lordship added that their glory was in being a moral nation, a character which he was sure they would always preserve. The glittering sprightliness of the Lady and the stately gravity of the Embassador were as well contrasted as their respective topics of praise, and if my mind had been at cast to relish anything in the nature of an exhibition I should have been much amused at hearing a Frenchwoman’s celebration of the generosity of the English towards other nations and a lecture upon national morality from the commander of the expedition Copenhagen.