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George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 39 39 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 8 8 Browse Search
Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing) 6 6 Browse Search
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe 1 1 Browse Search
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall) 1 1 Browse Search
Adam Badeau, Grant in peace: from Appomattox to Mount McGregor, a personal memoir 1 1 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 2, 17th edition. 1 1 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard). You can also browse the collection for De Stael or search for De Stael in all documents.

Your search returned 8 results in 5 document sections:

George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 2: (search)
and even luxurious establishment on the inside, though of slight pretensions outside. The room—a long hall — that Mad. de Stael used for private theatricals was fitted up by Auguste for a library, in which he placed the books both of his mother andd at one end of it a fine statue of Necker, by Tieck. The family portraits, Necker and Mad. Necker, the Baron and Mad. de Stael, Auguste, and a bust of Mad. de Broglie, made in 1815, are in another room, and Auguste's cabinet is just as he left it.ls, with a good deal of feeling. The door of the monument in which rest the remains of Necker and his wife, with Mad. de Stael at their feet, has been walled up. Auguste is buried on the outside, and round the whole is a high wall, the gate to which is not opened at all, as both Necker and Mad. de Stael desired their cemetery might never be made a show. Whenever she herself arrived at Coppet she took the key and visited it quite alone, but otherwise the enclosure was never opened. Geneva,
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 5: (search)
emoirs and papers to look over, and see what I can find in them . . . . The evening was made pleasant to us by a visit from Rosini, the author of the Monaca di Monza, of Luisa Strozzi, etc.,—a round, easy, good-natured, vain, and very agreeable person, about as old as Carmignani; somewhat jealous, as an author, of the reputation of Manzoni, Grossi, and the rest of his successful contemporaries, and extremely frank in suffering it to be seen. He is full of anecdote, and talked about Mad. de Stael and Schlegel at the time they were here in 1815-16, of Manzoni, and of himself. He seems extremely well pleased that the Monaca di Monza has gone through eighteen editions, and declares that he is no imitator of Manzoni or anybody else; for that in 1808 he had made collections for an historical romance on the times of Erasmus, in which Lorenzo dea Medici, and the coterie around him at Florence, were to have been introduced; that he showed his materials and his plan to his friends at the ti
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 6: (search)
ian. Of her children, and of her husband and his public career, she spoke with all her natural frankness; and about America and our institutions she was curious, but is evidently less democratically inclined than when I knew her before. Her conversation was always earnest, sometimes brilliant, and I was sorry when the approach of dinner interrupted it. Her pretty, or rather beautiful daughter came first, with her husband; then M. Doudan and then Alphonse de Rocca, the youngest son of Mad. de Stael, now about twenty-five, extremely ugly in the lower part of his face, like his mother,— very good-natured, it is said, but with a moderate capacity. The Duke de Broglie came last, with Guizot, who, having had his hints beforehand, pretended to remember a great deal more about me than my vanity could render credible. See Vol. I. p. 256. He talked at first, with much French esprit, upon a recent article of Montalembert on the Revival of the Arts, upon an Edinburgh review on Bacon attri
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 7: (search)
astoret had a grande reception this evening, with the ancien regime about her. I alluded to it, but she said: No, we are not in favor; we have our old friends only about us. At that time there were some of the greatest names in French history before her; Crillon, Bethune, and Montmorency. I told her I was going to Mad. de Broglie's, and she spoke of her with great affection and regard, but said their different views of religion and politics kept them quite asunder. She said she knew Mad. de Stael well at one period, but I think the same causes prevented her from ever seeing much more of the mother than of the daughter. February 23.—Mrs. Fry—the famous Mrs. Fry—has been here a few days, with her husband and a friend Josiah, and has excited some sensation. Her object is to have something done about the French prisons, which are no doubt bad enough; . . . . and though she will, I think, bring nothing to pass, she produces the same sort of impression of her goodness here that she do<
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 17: (search)
east, such as it is, I observe that those who have been here once are more glad to come again than if they had never been, and that those who have lived here long are apt to hanker after it, and come at last to end their days among its ruins and recollections . . .. Nor am I much astonished at it. The society is not exactly like what society is in any other capital in the world; but it is very attractive, and has gradually settled into forms well fitted to its condition and character. Mad. de Stael—who was a good judge, and a dainty one, too, in such matters—is known to have liked it very much, and to have spoken of it in a way that sometimes surprised her friends in Paris. In Corinne,—I think it is, at any rate it is somewhere,—speaking of Rome she says, C'est le salon de l'europe, and the phrase has its force. More or less distinguished and intellectual persons come here every winter from the different countries of Europe, and as there is really but one society, they must either