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he had neither the courage； the heroism； nor the partisan spirit of her more ardent companion。 With all her devotion she was something of a sybarite and liked repose。 She had the tact； during all the troubles which scattered her little circle； to retain her friends； of whatever religious color； though not without a few temporary clouds。 Her diplomatic moderation did not quite please the religieuses of Port Royal； and chilled a little her pleasant relations with d'Andilly。
Toward the close of her life； the Marquise was in the habit of secluding herself for days together； and declining to see even her dearest friends。 The Abbe de la Victoire； piqued at not being received； spoke of her one day as 〃the late Mme。 la Marquise de Sable。〃
La Rochefoucauld writes to her； 〃I know no more inventions for entering your house； I am refused at the door every day。〃 Mme。 de La Fayette declares herself offended； and cites this as a proof of her attachment； saying； 〃There are very few people who could displease me by not wishing to see me。〃 But the friends of the Marquise are disposed to treat her caprices very leniently。 As the years went by and the interests of life receded； Mme。 de Sable became reconciled to the thought that had inspired her with so much dread。 When she died at the advanced age of seventy… nine； the longed…for transition was only the quiet passing from fevered dreams to peaceful sleep。
It is a singular fact that this refined； exclusive； fastidious woman； in whom the artistic nature was always dominant to the extent of weakness； should have left a request to be buried； without ceremony； in the parish cemetery with the people； remote alike from the tombs of her family and the saints of Port Royal。
CHAPTER VI。 MADAME DE SEVIGNE Her GeniusHer YouthHer unworthy HusbandHer impertinent CousinHer love for her DaughterHer LettersHotel de CarnavaletMme。 Duiplessis GuenegaudMme。 de CoulangesThe Curtain Falls
Among the brilliant French women of the seventeenth century； no one is so well…known today as Mme。 de Sevigne。 She has not only been sung by poets and portrayed by historians； but she has left us a complete record of her own life and her own character。 Her letters reflect every shade of her many…sided nature； as well as the events； even the trifling incidents； of the world in which she lived； the lineaments； the experiences； the virtues； and the follies of the people whom she knew。 We catch the changeful tints of her mind that readily takes the complexion of those about her； while retaining its independence； we are made familiar with her small joys and sorrows； we laugh with her at her own harmless weaknesses； we feel the inspiration of her sympathy； we hear the innermost throbbings of her heart。 No one was ever less consciously a woman of letters。 No one would have been more surprised than herself at her own fame。 One is instinctively sure that she would never have seated herself deliberately to write a book of any sort whatever。 While she was planning a form for her thoughts； they would have flown。 She was essentially a woman of the great world； for which she was fitted by her position； her temperament； her esprit； her tastes； and her character。 She loved its variety； its movement； its gaiety； she judged leniently even its faults and its frailties。 If they often furnished a target for her wit； behind her sharpest epigrams one detects an indulgent smile。
The natural outlet for her full mind and heart was in conversation。 When she was alone； they found vent in conversation of another sort。 She talks on paper。 Her letters have the unstudied freedom； the rapidity； the shades； the inflections of spoken words。 She gives her thoughts their own course； 〃with reins upon the neck；〃 as she was fond of saying； and without knowing where they will lead her。 But it is the personal element that inspires her。 Let her heart be piqued； or touched by a profound affection； and her mind is illuminated； her pen flies。 Her nature unveils itself； her emotions chase one another in quick succession； her thoughts crystallize with wonderful brilliancy； and the world is reflected in a thousand varying colors。 The sparkling wit； the swift judgment； the subtle insight； the lightness of touch； the indefinable charm of stylethese belong to her temperament and her genius。 But the clearness； the justness of expression； the precision； the simplicity that was never banalsuch qualities nature does not bestow。 One must find their source in careful training； in wise criticism； in early familiarity with good models。
Living from 1626 to 1696； Mme。 de Sevigne was en rapport with the best life of the great century of French letters。 She was the granddaughter of the mystical Mme。 de Chantal； who was too much occupied with her convents and her devotions to give much attention to the little Marie； left an orphan at the age of six years。 The child did not inherit much of her grandmother's spirit of reverence； and at a later period was wont to indulge in many harmless pleasantries about her pious ancestress and 〃our grandfather； St。 Francois de Sales。〃 Deprived so early of the care of a mother； she was brought up by an uncle； the good Abbe de Coulangesthe 〃Bien…Bon〃whose life was devoted to her interests。 Though born in the Place Royale； that long…faded center of so much that was brilliant and fascinating two centuries ago； much of her youth was passed in the family chateau at Livry； where she was carefully educated in a far more solid fashion than was usual among the women of her time。 She had an early introduction to the Hotel de Rambouillet； and readily caught its intellectual tastes； though she always retained a certain bold freedom of speech and manners； quite opposed to its spirit。
Her instructors were Chapelain and Menage； both honored habitues of that famous salon。 The first was a dull poet； a profound scholar； somewhat of a pedant； and notoriously careless in his dressle vieux Chapelain； his irreverent pupil used to call him。 When he died of apoplexy； years afterwards； she wrote to her daughter： 〃He confesses by pressing the hand； he is like a statue in his chair。 So God confounds the pride of philosophers。〃 But he taught her Latin； Spanish； and Italian； made her familiar with the beauties of Virgil and Tasso； and gave her a critical taste for letters。
Menage was younger； and aspired to be a man of the world as well as a savant。 Repeating one day the remark of a friend； that out of ten things he knew he had learned nine in conversation； he added； 〃I could say about the same thing myself〃a confession that savors more of the salon than of the library。 He had a good deal of learning； but much pretension； and Moliere has given him an undesirable immortality as Vadius in 〃Les Femmes Savantes；〃 in company with his deadly enemy； the Abbe Cotin； who figures as 〃Trissotin。〃 It appears that the susceptible savant lost his heart to his lively pupil； and sighed not only in secret but quite openly。 He wrote her bad verses in several languages； loaded her with eulogies； and followed her persistently。 〃The name of Mme。 de Sevigne；〃 said the Bishop of Laon； 〃is in the works of Menage what Bassan's dog is in his portraits