th taxes. Nothing can more strongly mark the general debasement of
sentiment, than that Madame de Sevigne, a woman whose character the
breath of slander had never ventured to asperse, should describe this
scene without one word of reprobation, but, on the contrary, should
conclude with a wish that this season of happiness at the court may
endure.

The following extract seems to show that she had a yearning for
something better in the midst of this idle dissipation--though the
terms in which she expresses herself are far from commendable: "I wish
I could be religious. I plague La Moresse--the abbe--about it every
day. I belong at present neither to God nor devil; and I find this
condition very uncomfortable; though, between you and me, I think it
the most natural in the world. One does not belong to the devil,
because one fears God, and has at bottom a principle of religion; but
then, on the other hand, one does not belong to God, because his laws
appear hard, and self-denial is not pleasant. Hence the great number
of the lukewarm, which does not surprise me at all; I enter perfectly
into their reasons; only God, you know, hates them, and that must not
be. But there lies the difficulty. Why must I torment you with these
rhapsodies? My dear child, _I ask your pardon_, as they say in these
parts. I rattle on in your company, and forget every thing else in the
pleasure of it. Don't make me any answer. Send me only news of your
health, with a spice of what you feel at Grignan, that I may know you
are happy; that is all. Love me. We have turned the phrase into
ridicule; but it is natural; it is good."

Perhaps she was led into these reflections by her admiration for the
beautiful Duchess de Longueville, who, from having been "the greatest
of sinners, became the greatest of saints:" a princess of the blood
royal,--a leader in all the dissolute scenes which characterized the
wars of the Fronde,--she voluntarily retired to a convent, where she
practised all those austerities, by which the pious Catholic believed
he might atone for past transgressions. Of the sincerity of her
conversion she gave repeated testimonies, and Madame de Sevigne ever
speaks of her with the greatest veneration and respect. That she had
too much good practical sense to be deceived by those who sought by
the excitement of religious rites to make up for the loss of the
excitements of pleasure, or who assumed the garb of religion in mere
compliance with th