We may infer from these words the perpetual anguish of Madame de La Fayette during the three first years of the revolution. In the Duchesse d'Ayen she found a support full of sweetness and tenderness; who, though sharing none of the opinions of her son-in-law, believed firmly in the rectitude of his intentions. Her angelic sister, the Viscountess de Noailles, felt exactly as she did, loved equally a husband, young, handsome, brave, and charming, associated in the most advanced ideas of M. de La Fayette, and, like him, a member of the Assembly. The eldest daughter, too, of Madame de La Fayette, began at this time to be of much comfort to her; she had her make her first communion in 1790. It was, in the midst of the great political events of that epoch, the first concern of her maternal heart.

The civil constitution of the clergy was to be one of the most sensible tribulations of Madame de La Fayette. She considered she should, more particularly on account of her personal situation, declare her attachment for the Catholic Church; consequently she was present at the refusal of the oath which the curé of Saint Sulpice made from the pulpit, of whom she was a parishioner; she was constantly meeting there with persons most known by their opposition to the new principles, and with those then called the aristocratie. She took part assiduously in the offices, at first in the churches and afterward in the oratories where the persecuted clergy took refuge.

She continually received the nuns who fled to her for protection; or priests not under oath, whom she encouraged in the exercise of their functions, and the preservation of their religious liberty. She well knew that such conduct was hurtful to the popularity of her husband, of great importance to her to preserve, but no consideration could stop her in what she considered a duty.

M. de La Fayette never interfered with the conduct of his wife; he held as nobly to his principles of liberty of conscience in this respect as in all others. Aloud he disapproved of the oath extorted from the Catholic priests, opposed it wherever he could, and was at least successful in preventing the articles relative to this civil constitution of the clergy from being constitutional; on the contrary, they were even rejected from the class of ordinary laws that any new legislature might revise. For General La Fayette deluded himself that the constitution of 1791 was destined to last. But whatever his sentiments, that which made him respect the religious convictions of his wife, and oppose all his power to the persecution of the clergy, does great honor to his character. As the priests under oath were habitually received by the commander of the National Guard at Paris, Madame de La Fayette never dissimulated before them her attachment to the ancient bishops; but she mingled in her expressions so much adroitness with her sincerity that she never wounded them. Only once she deviated from the rule of tolerance that she imposed on herself on her husband's account, and that was when the newly elected constitutional Bishop of Paris, came to dine officially with the general. She would not recognize by her presence the quality of his diocese, and dined out, although she knew by doing so it could not fail to be made a subject of remark.

Meanwhile, the ever-increasing revolutionary delirium multiplied disorders, paralyzed the efforts of the constitutional party, and rendered the part of M. de La Fayette more and more difficult. He was suspected on both sides, by the court and by the Jacobins, and was rapidly wearing out the remains of an expiring popularity in an already useless struggle.

The king, to escape the odious tyranny of which he was the victim, attempted to fly from Paris; we know the rest. Arrested at Varennes, brought back to the Tuileries, he and his family were placed in the closest confinement. The unhappy prince at last resigned himself to accept the constitution, the Constituent Assembly terminated its sittings, and was replaced by the Legislative Assembly, and General La Fayette, sincere in the illusion that the revolution was finished and the future secured, gave in his resignation as commander of the National Guard, and set out for Auvergne with his wife and children. Now in the destiny of Madame de La Fayette there came a short truce of happiness; the journey from Paris to Chavaniac was a series of ovations that popular enthusiasm spread, for the last time, before her idol. The Duchess d' Ayen and the Viscountess de Noailles came a little while to share this apparent and transitory calm; but the Duke d'Ayen had emigrated to Switzerland, and Madame de Montagu had taken refuge in England. The formation of three grand army corps had been decreed, in imminent danger of a foreign war; the command of the centre was confided to General La Fayette, who repaired to his camp in 1791.

The year 1792 saw the hideous journey of the 20th of June, soon after followed by the scenes more lamentable still, of the 10th of August.

At the news of the wicked attempt of the 20th of June, the General de La Fayette did not fear to address to the assembly, from Maubeuge, where were then his head-quarters, a letter in which he declaimed with indignation and vehemence against the Jacobins; and finally, quitting his camp, he hastened to Paris and appeared at the bar of the Assembly; there to brand energetically the violences committed at the Tuileries, and demand the punishment of the guilty. Was not this act of courage alone sufficient honor for a lifetime? But finally, seeing he had nothing to hope from the Assembly, he attempted to organize a resistance at Sedan in order to save Louis XVI. The triumphant Jacobins replied, on the 10th of August, by a decree of proscription to the refusal which M. de La Fayette made to recognize the fall of the king; a price was put upon his head, and, constrained in his turn to seek a refuge in a foreign land, the patriot of 1789 fell on the frontier into an Austrian post, was arrested with his aides-de-camp, conducted first to Namur, then to Wesel, and considered by the allied powers as an enemy of universal peace, whose liberty was incompatible with the surety of European governments.

The arbitrary detention of MM. de La Fayette, Latour Maubourg, and Bureaux de Pusy, remains one of the disgraces of the government of the Emperor Francis II., and he cannot be blamed enough for it; but in the condition of parties and in view of the renown of M. de La Fayette, had it not for him some great advantages? In our eyes, the five years of carcere duro inflicted upon the hero of American liberty, completed his glory. Such were the sentiments of Madame de Staël when she wrote to congratulate him on his release: "Your misfortune has preserved your glory, and if your health can be restored, you will come out perfect from the tomb where your name has acquired a new lustre." But dating from this epoch, what was not the ineffable anguish of Madame de La Fayette? Informed of the arrest of her husband, she had but one thought—to release him or share his captivity. But she had two other duties to fulfil; to get her son out of France, and, if possible, to confide him to the friendship of General Washington, and to protect the interests of the creditors of General La Fayette by giving them the sequestrated estates for security, and in both she experienced great difficulty. Arrested at Chavaniac, where she was resting with her son, aged thirteen, her two daughters, and the aged aunt who had brought up M. de La Fayette, she obtained from Roland, then minister of the interior, permission not to be taken to Paris, but to remain at Chavaniac on parole. Encouraged by this testimony of humanity, and hoping to be delivered from an engagement that weighed so heavily on her, she smothered her natural pride and again addressed herself to Roland: