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TO MRS. GROTE. - Alexis de Tocqueville, Memoir, Letters, and Remains of Alexis de Tocqueville, vol. 2 [1861]

Edition used:

Memoir, Letters, and Remains of Alexis de Tocqueville. Translated from the French by the translator of Napoleon’s Correspondence with King Joseph. With large Additions. In Two Volumes (London: Macamillan, 1861). 2 vols.

Part of: Memoir, Letters, and Remains of Alexis de Tocqueville, 2 vols.

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TO MRS. GROTE.

I received yesterday, my dear Mrs. Grote, a few lines from you in a letter of Senior’s. Both the text and the commentary were welcome, and I thank both writers. Just before, I had received another letter from you, with a number of the Spectator, in which I found the letter to which you allude.* It seemed to me that I had been translated by a masterly hand; so much so, that I am not sure whether I do not like myself better in my English than in my French clothes. As to the publication itself, I own I was afraid that it might make people fancy that I wanted to criticise the late military operations; which would be very improper on the part of a foreigner, especially of one who was ignorant of the details. I had no intention of finding fault with what your aristocracy has lately been doing. I only said that, in the present crisis, the aristocracy, if it wishes to hold its ground, must make immense efforts, and that it must not think its safety ensured by the courage displayed by some of its members on the field of battle. I hope that those who read this little extract will have thus understood it.

From what you say, I see that you too find this severe season trying. As long as this temperature continues, I cannot, of course, think of leaving this house and establishing myself elsewhere. We keep close to our fireside, without any intention of moving; though the cold has made our abode more uncomfortable than ever. We found that the only room which, from its aspect, is warm and light in this weather, is the one which I had made my study. We have gradually retired to it, as the besieged take refuge in the donjon when the external fortifications have given way. You will imagine that we are beginning to get tired of living in this manner. I console myself, however, by fancying that I am employing myself usefully. When I am getting on well, it even seems to me that I spend my time very agreeably; but our apartment turns into a miserable hole when I am not in the humour. You know that an author is like a gambler: if the luck is in his favour, play is the most delightful of occupations; fortune changes, and it seems to him the worst of all. I think I remember when I was young hearing the same things said of love, but I no longer allow myself to make such comparisons.

Adieu, dear Mrs. Grote. My wife sends a thousand kind regards.

[*]Some passages in M. de Tocqueville’s letter to Mrs. Grote of the 4th of February, had been translated by her, and inserted in the Spectator.