sin against good taste the Parisian world
could not forgive, and even her friends turned against her for a
time. But the Duchesse due Maine came to her aid with an all-powerful
influence, and restored her finally to her old position. For some years
she passed the greater part of her time at Sceaux, and was a favorite at
this lively little court.

It is needless to trace here the details of a career which gives us
little to admire and much to condemn. It was about 1740 when her salon
became noted as a center for the fashionable and literary world of
Paris. Montesquieu and d'Alembert were then among her intimate friends.
Of the latter she says: "The simplicity of his manners, the purity of
his morals, the air of youth, the frankness of character, joined to all
his talents, astonished at first those who saw him." It is said to have
been through her zeal that he was admitted to the Academy so young.
Among others who formed her familiar circle were her devoted friend
Pont de Veyle; the Chevalier d'Aydie; Formont, the "spirituel idler and
amiable egotist," who was one of the three whom she confesses really to
have loved; and President Henault, who brought always a fund of lively
anecdote and agreeable conversation. This world of fashion and letters,
slightly seasoned with philosophy, is also the world of Mme. de
Luxembourg, of the brilliant Mme. de Mirepoix, of the Prince and
Princesse de Beauvau, and of the lovely Duchesse de Choiseul, a femme
d'esprit and "mistress of all the elegances," whose gentle virtues fall
like a ray of sunlight across the dark pages of this period. It is the
world of elegant forms, the world in which a sin against taste is
worse than a sin against morals, the world which hedges itself in by a
thousand unwritten laws that save it from boredom.

After the death of the Duchesse du Maine, Mme. du Deffand retired to the
little convent of St. Joseph, where, after the manner of many women of
rank with small fortunes, she had her menage and received her friends.
"I have a very pretty apartment," she writes to Voltaire; "very
convenient; I only go out for supper. I do not sleep elsewhere, and I
make no visits. My society is not numerous, but I am sure it will please
you; and if you were here you would make it yours. I have seen for some
time many savants and men of letters; I have not found their society
delightful." The good nuns objected a little to Voltaire at first, but
seem to have been finally reconc