usand francs.

Napoleon's remark proved correct. La Fayette, though he spent most of
the evening of his life in directing the cultivation of his estate, was
always present at every crisis in the affairs of France to plead the
cause of constitutional liberty. He made a fine remark once in its
defense, when taunted with the horrors of the French Revolution: "The
tyranny of 1793," he said, "was no more a republic than the massacre of
St. Bartholomew was a religion."

His visit to America in 1824 is well remembered. He was the guest of the
nation; and Congress, in recompense of his expenditures during the
Revolutionary War, made him a grant of two hundred thousand dollars and
an extensive tract of land. It was La Fayette who, in 1830, was chiefly
instrumental in placing a constitutional monarch on the throne of
France. The last words, he ever spoke in public were uttered in behalf
of the French refugees who had fled from France for offenses merely
political; and the last words he ever wrote recommended the abolition of
slavery. He died May 19, 1834, aged seventy-seven. His son, George
Washington, always the friend of liberty, like his father, died in 1849,
leaving two sons--inheritors of a name so full of inspiration to the
world.

* * * * *

LIII.

LYDIA SIGOURNEY

(BORN 1791--DIED 1865.)

THE LESSON OF A USEFUL AND BEAUTIFUL LIFE.

"A beautiful life I have had. Not more trial than was for my good.
Countless blessings beyond expectation or desert.... Behind me stretch
the green pastures and still waters by which I have been led all my
days. Around is the lingering of hardy flowers and fruits that bide the
Winter. Before stretches the shining shore."

These are the words of Mrs. Sigourney, written near the close of a life
of seventy-four years. All who have much observed human life will agree
that the rarest achievement of man or woman on this earth is a solid and
continuous happiness. There are very few persons past seventy who can
look back upon their lives, and sincerely say that they would willingly
live their lives over again. Mrs. Sigourney, however, was one of the
happy few.

Lydia Huntley, for that was her maiden name, was born at Norwich,
Connecticut, on the first of September, 1791. Her father was Ezekiel
Huntley, an exceedingly gentle, affectionate man, of Scotch parentage,
who had as little of a Yankee in him as any man in Connecticut. Unlike a
Yankee, he ne