Of all the absurd and capricious institutions which
France, under either her old or her new Régime, has
dignified by the name of Law, the modern divorce claims
the pre-eminence for cruelty and injustice;—at least, if Madame Dormeuil’s relation is to be accredited.—Mme. Dormeuil was a beautiful and accomplished young woman,
and married to a handsome and well-informed young man. Six years of perfect happiness
they enjoyed together, and perhaps Hymen thought this was as large a portion of
felicity as he commonly allows; for after this period, a degree of languor and
insipidity is too often found consequent on a state of uninterrupted tranquility.
Mons. Dormeuil required variety, and sought it in the
scenes of dissipation; and hence proceeded those vicious and libertine pursuits which
never fail to undermine the conjugal affection. Among other depravities, the French Husband had a mistress whom he wished to marry;
and, as the Legislature had so easily and so conveniently devised the means of
breaking old chains, and forging new, he resolved on availing himself of so desirable
a privilege, and being divorced from his amiable and most affectionate wife. Madame
Dormeuil protests against the divorce, with an
obstinacy as inflexible as was that of Catherine of Arragon:—she protested against all the formalities necessary
to ascertain the separation, and she insisted on keeping the name and arms of Dormeuil, and on being the true and [Page 540]lawful
wife of the old Régime:—she was, however, divorced against her consent, and Monsieur
married his new Love.

Of this connection, also, the inconstant husband grew tired; and he felt the same
inclination to be emancipated from the second captivity, which had induced him to
break the first. The matter being so easily adjusted, and the remedy for matrimonial
ennui so immediately at hand, Dormeuil is a second time
divorced; and with his first wife he became once
more desperately in love. Her affections were never alienated from him, but stood
the
brunt of all his cruelties with the most persevering affection:— but the same
firmness, which had directed her conduct in opposing the divorce, now supported her
in refusing to renew the ci-devant nuptial vow; since
that act would have been acknowleging the legality of the
divorce, which she had with so much pertinacity refused to sanction. The
situation of Monsieur and Madame now becomes whimsically laughable; they love each
other to distraction: but they must not live together, and renew the conjugal
endearments, because she is not his wife, and would be
liable to be considered as his mistress; and it would be a breach of good morality,
which would necessarily implicate her reputation on the ground of decorum, were they
again to inhabit the same house. We leave the reader to Mme. Dormeuil’s own description of the caprices of her destiny; which she details
with refined and romantic sentiments of prudery, truly French, and extremely artificial and unnatural.

The author informs us that he suppressed
the publication of the second of these novels for some time, because he dared not
to
print it, lest a resemblance might be discovered between the characters which he
describes, and those which personally existed when it was written. We have only to
observe on this head, that we give him credit for his
prudence in taking care of his own. In this novel, as
in most others, Love is the burden of the song; and the cabals of politics, the union
of party, and the enthusiasm of patriotism, are all superseded by the irresistible
control of the little deity. The lovely and innocent Adéle exchanged the horrors of
a
prison for the arms of an affectionate husband, and was without doubt very well
pleased with the bargain: at the same time, the revolutionist most probably preserved himself from the guillotine by his
amorous apostacy. Love was therefore the protector of both.

The third story exhibits those romantic and self-denying practices, which the
writers of novels dignify with the name of heroism. Our days of romance, however,
have been so long past, that we are utterly incapable of deciding on the [Page 541]merits or demerits of these sentimental heroines; who inflict so much misery on
themselves, by erecting the standard of virtue on false principles.

M. Fiévée’s novels are agreeably written, in correct and elegant French; and, altogether,
they are interesting and affecting.