The French are not an adventurous
nation: they are not fond of travelling. Hugo says Paris is the world,
and to the average Frenchman it embodies the world it comprises: it
_is_ the world. Expatriated, he would rather dwell, like the poet, on a
barren island within sight of the shores of France than seek or find
new worlds to conquer. It must therefore be conceded that the sentiment
which brought us our allies in 1780 was a hearty one, nor had they
encouragement from the example of others; for, although La Fayette,
young and full of ardor, had fired the hearts of his compatriots, and
made it the fashion to help us even before the alliance in 1778, yet
the expedition of that year under the comte d'Estaing had been an utter
failure. There was, however, a strong incentive which brought the young
nobles of the time to us, and that was the one which the old
philosopher declared to be at the bottom of every case--a woman. In
this particular instance the prestige was heightened by the fact that
she was also a queen. Marie Antoinette was then at the zenith of her
beauty and power. The timid, shrinking dauphiness, forced to the arms
of an unwilling husband, himself a mere cipher, had expanded into a
fascinating woman, reigning triumphantly over the court and the
affections of her vacillating spouse.
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