th them, and the
hours glided swiftly, cheered by the brilliance of philosophy and
genius. The journals of the day were read, Madame Roland being usually
called upon as reader. When not thus reading, she usually sat at her
work-table, employing her fingers with her needle, while she took a
quiet and unobtrusive part in the conversation. "This kind of life,"
says Madame Roland, "would be very austere, were not my husband a man
of great merit, whom I love with my whole heart. Tender friendship and
unbounded confidence mark every moment of existence, and stamp a value
upon all things, which nothing without them would have. It is the life
most favorable to virtue and happiness. I appreciate its worth. I
congratulate myself on enjoying it; and I exert my best endeavors to
make it last." Again she draws the captivating picture of rural
pleasures. "I am preserving pears, which will be delicious. We are
drying raisins and prunes. We make our breakfast upon wine; overlook
the servants busy in the vineyard; repose in the shady groves, and on
the green meadows; gather walnuts from the trees; and, having
collected our stock of fruit for the winter, spread it in the garret
to dry. After breakfast this morning, we are all going in a body to
gather almonds. Throw off, then, dear friend, your fetters for a
while, and come and join us in our retreat. You will find here true
friendship and real simplicity of heart."

Madame Roland, among her other innumerable accomplishments, had
acquired no little skill in the science of medicine. Situated in a
region where the poor peasants had no access to physicians, she was
not only liberal in distributing among them many little comforts, but,
with the most self-denying assiduity, she visited them in sickness,
and prescribed for their maladies. She was often sent for, to go a
distance of ten or twelve miles to visit the sick. From such appeals
she never turned away. On Sundays, her court-yard was filled with
peasants, who had assembled from all the region round, some as
invalids, to seek relief, and others who came with such little tokens
of their gratitude as their poverty enabled them to bring. Here
appears a little rosy-cheeked boy with a basket of chestnuts; or a
care-worn mother, pale and thin, but with a grateful eye presenting to
her benefactrice a few small, fragrant cheeses, made of goat's milk;
and there is an old man, hobbling upon crutches, with a basket of
apples from his orchard. She