At nineteen he was
destined by his mother to be married. Now every one knows how marriages
are managed in France, not only in the time of Saint-Simon, but even to
the present day. A mother or an aunt, or a grandmother, or an
experienced friend, looks out; be it for son, be it for daughter, it is
the business of her life. She looks and she finds: family, suitable;
fortune, convenient; person, _pas mal_; principles, Catholic, with a due
abhorrence of heretics, especially English ones. After a time, the lady
is to be looked at by the unhappy _pretendu_; a church, a mass, or
vespers, being very often the opportunity agreed. The victim thinks she
will do. The proposal is discussed by the two mammas; relatives are
called in; all goes well; the contract is signed; then, a measured
acquaintance is allowed: but no _tete-a-tetes;_ no idea of love. 'What!
so indelicate a sentiment before marriage! Let me not hear of it,' cries
mamma, in a sanctimonious panic. 'Love! _Quelle betise!_' adds _mon
pere_.
But Saint-Simon, it seems, had the folly to wish to make a marriage of
inclination. Rich, _pair de France_, his father--an old _roue_, who had
been page to Louis XIII.--dead, he felt extremely alone in the world.
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