g of her pupil, and his subsequent trials and privations,
writes:

"How often, since his misfortunes, have I applauded myself
for the education I have given him; for having taught him the
principal modern languages; for having accustomed him to
wait on himself; to despise all kinds of effeminacy; to sleep
habitually on a wooden bed, with no covering but a mat; to
expose himself to heat, cold, and rain; to accustom himself
to fatigue by daily and violent exercise, by walking ten or
fifteen miles with leaden soles to his shoes; and, finally,
for having given him the taste and habit of travelling. He
had lost all that he inherited from birth and fortune; and
nothing remained but what he had received from nature and
me."

In one of her earlier letters, she wrote: "The Duke of Chartres has
greatly improved in disposition during the past year. He was born
with good inclinations, and has now become intelligent and virtuous.
Possessing none of the frivolities of the age, he disdains the
puerilities which occupy the thoughts of so many young men of
rank--such as fashions, dress, trinkets, follies of all kinds, and a
desire for novelties. He has no passion for money, is disinterested,
despises glare, and is, consequently, truly noble. Finally, he has an
excellent heart, which is common to his brothers and sister, and
which, joined to reflection, is capable of producing all other good
qualities."

[Illustration: STORMING THE BASTILE.]

During the boyhood of Louis Philippe, revolutionary principles were
rapidly spreading over France; and, as he approached manhood, they
had reached their maturity. The example of his father, and the
teachings of Madame de Genlis, inclined him strongly in the direction
of popular rights, though his mother did not at all sympathize with
these revolutionary principles. When the exasperated people rose and
demolished the Bastile--the symbol and the instrument of as great
despotic power as ever existed upon earth--Madame de Genlis took her
pupils into Paris to witness the sublime drama. In describing the
scene, she writes eloquently:

"This redoubtable fortress was covered with men, women, and
children, working with unequalled ardor, even on the most
lofty parts of the building and on its turrets. The
astonishing number of these voluntary laborers, their
activity, their enthusiasm, their delight at seeing the fall
of that ter