itings, distinguished from the part he had taken in public
affairs, he formed the centre of one of those remarkable French literary
societies, a society which numbered among its members La Fontaine,
Racine, Boileau. Among his most attached friends was Madame de
La Fayette (the authoress of the "Princess of Cleeves"), and this
friendship continued until his death. He was not, however, destined to
pass away in that gay society without some troubles. At the passage of
the Rhine in 1672 two of his sons were engaged; the one was killed, the
other severely wounded. Rochefoucauld was much affected by this, but
perhaps still more by the death of the young Duc de Longueville, who
perished on the same occasion.

Sainte Beuve says that the cynical book and that young life were the
only fruits of the war of the Fronde. Madame de Sevigne, who was with
him when he heard the news of the death of so much that was dear to
him, says, "I saw his heart laid bare on that cruel occasion, and his
courage, his merit, his tenderness, and good sense surpassed all I ever
met with. I hold his wit and accomplishments as nothing in comparison."
The combined effect of his wounds and the gout caused the last years of
Rochefoucauld's life to be spent in great pain. Madame de Sevigne,
who was {with} him continually during his last illness, speaks of the
fortitude with which he bore his sufferings as something to be admired.
Writing to her daughter, she says, "Believe me, it is not for nothing he
has moralised all his life; he has thought so often on his last moments
that they are nothing new or unfamiliar to him."

In his last illness, the great moralist was attended by the great
divine, Bossuet. Whether that matchless eloquence or his own philosophic
calm had, in spite of his writings, brought him into the state Madame
de Sevigne describes, we know not; but one, or both, contributed to
his passing away in a manner that did not disgrace a French noble or a
French philosopher. On the 11th March, 1680, he ended his stormy life in
peace after so much strife, a loyal subject after so much treason.

One of his friends, Madame Deshoulieres, shortly before he died sent
him an ode on death, which aptly describes his state-- "Oui, soyez alors
plus ferme, Que ces vulgaires humains Qui, pres de leur dernier terme,
De vaines terreurs sont pleins. En sage que rien n'offense, Livrez-vous
sans resistance A d'inevitables traits; Et, d'une demarche egale, Passez
cette