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Updated: May 12, 2025
No one seemed to observe the horrible brutality of the service, where each man, let him be never so refined, was compelled to endure the filth and vermin of his neighbour who might be half a savage and was bound to become wholly one; and when Madame de Grignan wrote an account of a visit to a galley, her friend Madame de Sévigné replied that she would "much like to see this sort of Hell," and the men "groaning day and night under the weight of their chains."
We seem to see their faces, not their manner, watch the play of intellect and feeling, while they speak. The variety is infinite and full of charm. Mme. de Sevigne talks upon paper, of the trifling affairs of every-day life, adding here and there a sparkling anecdote, a bit of gossip, a delicate characterization, a trenchant criticism, a dash of wit, a touch of feeling, or a profound thought.
When Madame de Sévigné saw Louise de La Vallière some months later at court, she likened her to a modest violet, hiding beneath its leaves; but not so completely as to evade the eyes of royalty. And if Louise was lovely in her gown of virginal white, the King was a no less pleasing object to gaze upon.
A few, charged with the vitality of genius, retain their freshness and live among the enduring monuments of the society that gave them birth. The finest outcome of this prevailing taste was Mme. de Sevigne, who still reigns as the queen of graceful letter writers.
There was just a suspicion of irony in Madame de Kerman's tone, in spite of its caressing softness; it was so impossible to conceive of anyone really finding nature endurable, much less pretending to discover in trees and flowers anything amusing or suggestive of sentiment! But Madame de Sevigne was quite impervious to her friend's raillery.
The words precision, justness, and force are those which correctly describe her elegance. She would have written as Pascal and Nicole did rather than like Mme. de Sévigné; but this severe firmness and this tendency of her esprit did not make her inaccessible to the beauties of sentiment."
That the admiration was not merely feigned because it was the fashion, here is the testimony of a woman of the finest taste, Madame de Sévigné, given in her intimate letters to her daughter, who, in these confidences, spared no one who deserved criticism: The king and all the Court are charmed with Esther. The prince has wept over it. I cannot tell you how delightful the piece is.
Wormwood's object was effected. Two people were silenced and uncomfortable, and a sort of mist hung over the spirits of the whole party. The dinner went on and off, like all other dinners; the ladies retired, and the men drank, and talked indecorums. Mr. Oh! la belle chose que la Poste! Lettres de Sevigne. Ay but who is it? As you Like it.
"But still it might have happened," continued Lady Bearcroft, "that her ladyship did not notice the delicacy of the way in which the thing was put for it really was put so that nobody could take hold of it against any of us you understand; and after all, such a curiosity of a Sevigne as this, and such fine 'di'monds, was too pretty, and too good a thing to be refused hand-over-head, in that way.
Descartes never intended to make us believe all that." In her youth Mme. de Sevigne did not like the country because it was windy and spoiled her beautiful complexion; perhaps, too, because it was lonely. But with her happy gift of adaptation she came to love its tranquillity.
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