undertaking, and more warmth in the execution. George says that she
has heard all the greatest singers of modern times, but that her
grandmother, in her old age, singing fragments of the operas of her own
time in a cracked and trembling voice, and accompanying herself on an
old harpsichord with three fingers of a palsied hand, always remained to
her a type of art above all others.

The first volume of these memoirs gives interesting notice of the
friendships which surrounded Madame Dupin during her married life. These
embraced various celebrities, historical and literary. Her husband was
the congenial friend of the best minds of the day, and was able, among
other things, to procure her the difficult pleasure of an interview
with Jean Jacques Rousseau, then living near her in great spleen and
retirement. We cannot do better than to give the relation of this in
her own words, as preserved by her grand-daughter. It is highly
characteristic of the parties and of the times.

"Before I had seen Rousseau, I had read the 'Nouvelle Heloise' in one
breath, and at the last pages I found myself so overcome that I wept and
sobbed. My husband gently rallied me for this; but that day I could only
cry from morning till evening. During this, M. de Francueil, with the
address and the grace which he knew how to put into everything, ran to
find Jean Jacques. I do not know how he managed it, but he carried him
off, he brought him, without having communicated to me his intention.

"I, unconscious of all this, was not hastening my toilet. I was with
Madame d'Esparbes de Lussan, my friend, the most amiable woman in
the world, and the prettiest, _though she squinted a little, and was
slightly deformed._ M. de Francueil had come several times to see if I
was ready. I did not observe any marks of haste in my husband, and did
not hurry myself, never suspecting that he was there, the sublime Bear,
in my parlor. He had entered, looking partly foolish and partly cross,
and had seated himself in a corner, showing no other impatience than
that about dinner, in order to get away very soon.

"Finally, my toilet finished, and my eyes still red and swollen, I go
to the parlor. I see a little man, ill-dressed and scowling, who rose
clumsily, who _chewed out_ some confused words. I look, and I guess who
it is,--I try to speak,--I burst into tears. Francueil tries to put
us in tune by a pleasantry, and bursts into tears. We could not say
anything to each o