tion, she bowed to the statue of Liberty, saying, "O Liberty, how many crimes are committed in thy name!" She bade her companion ascend the scaffold first, that he might escape the pain of seeing her die. To the last, she preserved her courage and dignity of

manner.

The news of her death reached her husband at Rouen. He resolved not to outlive her. He doubted whether to surrender himself to the Revolutionary Tribunal, or to commit suicide. He decided on the latter course, in order to save for his child his property, which by law would be confiscated if he died by the judgment of a court. On the 15th of November, he was found dead on the road to Paris, four miles from Rouen. In his pocket was found a paper, setting forth the reasons for his death. "The blood that flows in torrents in my country dictates my resolve; indignation caused me to quit my retreat. As soon as I heard of the murder of my wife, I determined no longer to remain on the earth tainted by crime."

MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ.

THE subject of this memoir, as celebrated in her own particular department of literature as Shakspere or Molière were in theirs, would have been very much surprised to find herself occupying a conspicuous place in the "Lives of Celebrated Women." She made no pretensions to authorship, and her "Letters," which have been esteemed models of epistolary composition, are the unpremeditated and unrevised outpourings of a mind rich in wit and good sense, and a heart filled with the warmest affections, and were written without the slightest idea that they would ever be read by any other persons than those to whom they were addressed.

Maria de Robertin-Chantal, Baroness de Chantal and Bombilly, was born on the 5th of February, 1626. Her father was the head of a distinguished and noble family of Burgundy. Of his rough wit and independence his daughter has preserved a specimen. When Schomberg was transformed, by Louis XIII., from a minister of finance to a field-marshal, Chantal wrote to him the following letter:

meaning that he owed his advancement, not to his military exploits, but to his rank, his having a black beard, like his master, and to his intimacy with that

master.

When Maria was about a year and a half old, the English made a descent upon the Island of Rhé; and her father placed himself at the head of a party of gentlemen who volunteered to assist in repelling them, in which honorable service he lost his life. His widow

survived him five years. She was the daughter of a secretary of state, and her family, that of De Coulanges, belonged to the class of nobility who owed that distinction to civil services, and who were known as "nobles of the robe," to distinguish them from those who could trace their descent from the heroes of the crusades and the days of chivalry.

It seems to have been expected that the paternal grandmother would have taken charge of the education of the little orphan. But she was too much occupied with the affairs of the other world, and with founding religious houses, of which eighty-seven owed their existence to her, and Maria was left in the hands of her maternal relations. The pious labors of the "Blessed Mother of Chantal" were acknowledged by the head of the church, and her name now fills a place in the calendar, among the saints. The guardianship of the young baroness devolved on her uncle, Christophe de Coulanges, abbé de Livry.

Most men would have shrunk from the task of personally superintending the education of a young girl, and would, in conformity to the customs of the times, have consigned her to a convent, where she would

have been taught to read, to write, to dance, and to embroider; and then her education would have been deemed complete. It is no slight evidence of the good sense of her uncle that he retained her in his own house. The decision was a fortunate one for posterity; for her faculties, which the formal training of the convent would have cramped, were called into exercise and expanded by an unusual indulgence in the range of reading, and probably by a familiar intercourse with the men of letters who sought her uncle's society. Under his instructions she doubtless acquired a knowledge of the Latin and Italian languages, and something of the Spanish. All this, however, is to some extent matter of inference, for we have no record of her early life. She tells us in her "Letters" that she was brought up at court, and there she formed her manners and her fortunately without the corruption of her morals. From the accounts given by her witty and profligate cousin Bussy-Robertin, we can obtain a tolerably correct idea of her appearance when she entered as an actor upon the scene of life. She was somewhat tall for a woman; had a good shape, a pleasing voice, a fine complexion, brilliant eyes, and a profusion of light hair; but her eyes, though brilliant, were small, and, together with the eyelashes, were of different tints: her lips, though well colored, were too flat, and the end of her nose too square. De Bussy tells us that she had more shape than grace, yet danced well; she had also a taste for singing. He makes to her the objection that she was too playful "for a woman of quality.”

tastes

Not beautiful, but highly attractive, of cordial manners, and with a lively sensibility, at one moment dis

solved in tears, and at another almost dying with laughter, Mademoiselle de Robertin, then eighteen years old, was married to the Marquis de Sévigné, of an ancient family of Brittany. Her letters written during the first years of her marriage are full of gayety; there is no trace of misfortune or sorrow. But her husband was fond of pleasure, extravagant in his expenses, heedless, and gay a character not likely to escape the contagion of that universal depravity of manners which prevailed at the French court. His conduct threw a cloud over their happiness. Madame de Sévigné bore her misfortunes with dignity and patience. In spite of his misconduct, she loved him deeply; and his death, not long afterwards, in a duel, caused her the most profound sorrow.

Her uncle, the abbé, resumed his former office of protector and counsellor. He withdrew her from the contemplation of her grief, and drew her attention to her duties, the chief and dearest of which was the education of her two children, a son and a daughter. To this object, and to rendering the life of her uncle happy, she resolved to devote herself. Of her obligations to her uncle she thus speaks in a letter written many years afterwards, on the occasion of his death: "I am plunged in sorrow: ten days ago I saw my dear uncle die; and you know what he was to his dear niece. He has conferred on me every benefit in the world, either by giving me property of his own, or preserving and augmenting that of my children. He drew me from the abyss into which M. de Sévigné's death plunged me; he gained lawsuits; he put my affairs in good order; he paid our debts; he has made