C praperly done, missus, an' a month and torment and terrify the sentries so afterwards poor Rosie hab a nice baby much that to place them on that particboy. She berry well and just lying wid | ular spot has had perforce to be abande baby a few days afterwards, an' her doned, although naturally the fact and sisters in de room wid her, for dey its reason is not announced to the pubberry kind and sorry for her. When lic. Truly, in these islands Duppies all de sudden she rise up in her bed are a power. an' look an' look, an' her hair stand right out, an' she 'gin to cry an' bawl 'Oh moder, moder- go 'way, moder; take your handkerchief' -for she had a nice silk handkerchief dat belonged to her moder on her head, an' she try an' unfasten de handkerchief. She try an' frow it in de air, an' she beating de air all de time wid her hands an' crying out piercing, an' den de lights an' de candles all burn blue. Oh, missus, her sisters tell me it was fearful to see her, for dey see nobody but deir sister screaming mad wid terror an' calling for her moder to leave her, for she no fit to die; but den she struggle less an' less, an' in a minute or two she die wid a shriek of 'moder,' an' den de sisters remember how deir moder had pramised to fetch her." From Belgravia. MONTAIGNE'S ADOPTED DAUGHTER. THOSE writers who, thanks to a long life, serve as links between two distinct periods of literature, always offer an interesting study, however small the part which they themselves played in either period. The greater the contrast between any two such periods, the more interesting the life of the connecting link. No two ages of French literature could be apparently more sharply divided than the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, or, to speak more accurately, the Renaissance and the classical period. Mlle. de Gournay, who, were it not for her title of the adopted daughter of Montaigne, would now be completely forgotten, living, as she did, from 1565 to 1645, was a contemporary of such dissimilar writers as, Oh, missus!" she said faintly, "if on the one hand, Montaigne and Amyot, such a ting shuld happen as a Duppy the two chief prose writers of the sixcome for me I should die ob fear," and teenth century, Ronsard and Jodelle, such fears no doubt do cause inexpli- the two most famous members of the cable deaths and help to fill the luna- Pléiade, and, on the other hand, of tic asylums year after year. I heard of Malherbe, Balzac, Voiture, Chapelain, one patient who imagines she has swal-Scarron and the rest of the writers who lowed several Duppies, and maintains that they disagree dreadfully with each other and herself in consequence in their present circumscribed quarters. Margaret stopped. She was quite shaking with terror at her own tale, and her face under the warm brown skin looked grey. 66 One more characteristic fact and I have finished. paved the way for Boileau, who was nine years old at her death. But Marie Le Jars de Gournay, to give her her full name, deserves to be studied, not only owing to the length of her life, but also because she is one of I was told, and on good authority, the most grotesque figures in the histhat the south-west entrance of the tory of French literature. Her father, "Camp" in one of the principal West Guillaume Le Jars, Seigneur de GourIndian garrison towns has practically to nay, a person of honor and underbe left without a sentry, for no negro standing," to use his daughter's words, has yet been found to face the Duppies died just as he was well on the way to that infest this particular spot. Long, restore the fallen fortunes of his house long ago, in the days when yellow by his successes at court, where he was fever reigned supreme, some English treasurer of the king's household. His officers were buried there, and ever widow and children took up their abode since their death their Duppies rise up at the castle of Gournay, in Picardy, Her where Marie, though a mere child, de- | the first to appreciate the "Essays," voted herself to study with such energy which were at this time comparatively that, in spite of the "aversiou " of her unknown. mother, who was doubtless troubled to From this date she "began to desire see the hours which should have been the acquaintance of the author more devoted to the acquisition of household than anything else in the world." accomplishments, spent in the reading wish was granted five years later, of books - without any help whatever, when, she and her mother being at and, which is less extraordinary, with- Paris, where Montaigne was also presout a grammar, she managed to learn ent engaged in reprinting the "EsLatin by the tedious process of care- says," she managed to let him know of fully comparing certain translations her admiration, with the result that, with their originals. It is perhaps ad- the very next day, the philosopher of visable to make one's first acquaintance Bordeaux presented himself, offering with a language unhampered by the her the affection of a father for his cut and dried rules of grammar, still it daughter." During the nine months is not the less extraordinary that a they remained in Paris, they met conchild should have had the inclination stantly, and, on their return to Gourfor, and, what is more, the determina- nay, the great man accompanied tion to continue, a course of study them. When he left them to return to which must chiefly have consisted of Bordeaux, she hastily sent after him a guess-work. Her method was scarcely manuscript, entitled "Le Proumenoir the same as the Hamiltonian system, de M. de Montaigne," because, she for, although grammar is of secondary writes in the preface (which is dated, importance in that, an interlinear word Gournay, November 26th, 1588), for word translation is considered in- we were walking together only three dispensable, while Marie de Gournay days ago, I repeated to you the story had probably, judging from most of the which follows." The story in questranslations of the period, to content tion is a Persian tale, somewhat longherself with what was a very free para- winded and with a very complicated phrase rather than a literal rendering. plot, as was the fashion in those days. She started on Greek with the same It was accompanied by a translation of method, but it is not surprising that the second book of the "Eneid," and she gave it up in despair. Her thirst a "Bouquet Poétique," chiefly consistfor knowledge was unquenchable. She studied, equally unassisted, history, ethics, grammar, geometry, and at this early age acquired a taste for chemistry, or rather alchemy, which, in later years, led her to waste what little money she had in a search for what has evaded the grasp of many a more learned person, the Philosopher's Stone. "as ing of epigrams (of a sort to be expected from a young lady just over twenty) and similar trifles in verse. The book, when published five years later, had a certain amount of success, and is interesting as being her first work. In after years it was reprinted at the request of certain ladies of the highest rank," amongst whom one would like to number, although there is no authority for it, "the incomparable Arthenice," Madame de Rambouillet, the patroness and friend of most of the literary men and women of the day. Montaigne, even after so short an acquaintance, had formed a very high opinion of his "adopted daughter," a title which he had bestowed on her, and of which she used to say she was more proud than she would have been I have taken pleasure in publishing in several places the expectations I entertain of Marie Le Jars de Gournay, my adopted daughter, whom I certainly love far more than if she were my own blood, and treasure up in my solitary retreat as one of the best parts of my being; I have no regard to anything else in this world but her. If one may presage from her youth, this soul Who shall deny, after this last paragraph, that the "Essays are, as their author terms them, "a book of good faith"? she is most entitled not to be altogether forgotten. Montaigne when he died had been engaged in preparing another edition of the "Essays; " with the full consent of his widow, Mlle. de Gournay undertook to complete his work. Her task, but we may be sure it was a labor of love, was finished in 1595. The edition, which she published in that year, was, however, superseded by the second and improved edition which, dedicated to Richelieu, she brought out by subscription, as we should term it, forty years later, in 1635. This, which, in spite of divers attacks on it, has been the standard edition ever since, is remarkable not only for the preface, which is at once an elaborate eulogy and a defence from all possible criticism that her adopted father's work might be submitted to, but also for the trouble she took to trace to their sources and translate the numerous Greek and Latin quotations with which the "Essays are studded. Chapelain, in one of his letters, accuses her, very unjustly, of having brought it out for the sake of gain alone. "Philosophy," he writes, 'goes ill with love of gain, and I do not like the daughter of the great Montaigne announcing that she is reprinting the Essays' only for the sake of honoring his memory. She Montaigne's adopted daughter lost must put up with this reprimand, and her mother in 1591, and proceeded to with my reproach that, in this point, establish herself in Paris, living on an she does not show herself too filial." income which, when the eldest son had This is unnecessarily severe, but had his, the lion's share, consisting as Chapelain, as we shall see, rather disit did of "rents ill-paid," was sufficient liked Mlle. de Gournay. The book to leave her uncomfortably off. The was dedicated to Richelieu not so much following year, to her equally great for his sake as for Montaigne's; for, sorrow, her adopted father died, and although she does pay the cardinal then Mlle. de Gournay did what was a a somewhat extravagant compliment very brave thing when we remember when, and it is not, of course, sarcasm, the state of France at the time. In she praises him as "the author of so spite of the danger from the numerous many undying works of various kinds, bands of marauding soldiers that were that it seems you have undertaken to prowling about the country, she made enrich and extend the Empire of Imher way from Paris to Bordeaux to mortality," her real reason was her sympathize with Montaigne's widow"hope that the impure hands which and daughter. She remained with for a long time have blasted the reputhem fifteen months, and, during her tation of this same book, by so many visit, started on the work for which bad editions, will no longer dare to In a commit the sacrilege of approaching | whole in due course to the English it when they shall see it under your court, where, naturally, nothing could protection." She had indeed very pro- be made of it. She was undeceived nounced views about the duties of edi- later on, but not before she had, in one tors. In the preface to an edition of of her pamphlets, alluded to the "honher own works she writes: "If this orable expressions of his late Very book survives me I forbid every one to Serene Highness, the King of Entake anything from it or to change any- gland." It was a cruel trick, but practhing in it, under pain of being held tical jokes were a fashion of the day. detestable by all honorable men, and considered violators of an innocent tomb. The insults, nay the murders of reputation that are matters of everyday occurrence in this impertinent age, call on me to publish this imprecation.' At Paris, Mlle. de Gournay was received in good society (for, was she not, as Tallemant des Réaux puts it, bien demoiselle ?) but, unfortunately, became a general laughing-stock, first, probably, because she was a confirmed old maid, and secondly because she was an authoress. She never married, because, like another famous old maid of the same period, to whom she bears a remarkable resemblance, Mlle. de Scudéri, she had no great opinion of men. Mlle. de Scudéri did not marry, because she thought that every man had it implanted in his nature to become a tyrant, Mlle. de Gournay, because she held very pronounced and very advanced views upon the equality of the sexes, a subject which, as Lady Mary Montague says of herself, was apt to run away with her." It should perhaps, to be perfectly fair to both sides, be added that both Mlle. de Scudéri and Mlle. de Gournay possessed mental rather than bodily beauty. Her chief tormentors were the Count de Moret, an illegitimate son of Henri IV., the Chevalier de Bueil, and M. de Yvrande. These 66 pests,' as Tallemant dubs them, played a cruel practical joke upon her. She was induced to believe, by means of a letter purporting to be inspired by James I., that that monarch was burning to possess her portrait and an account of her life. She was taken in, spent six weeks in writing an autobiography, and more money than she could afford in having her portrait taken, and despatched the It was about this time that she gave up literature for alchemy, and spent most of her money in a search for the Philosopher's Stone. When blamed by some Job's comforter for having wasted her fortune in such a way, she made the highly original excuse, in the true spirit of a philosopher, that "her fortune was not sufficiently important to deserve being taken care of!" tract of hers which she called her "Apologie," she gives a detailed answer to her critics (or her drapeurs, as she terms them) who had accused her, though it is hard to say what business it was of theirs, of being a spendthrift. "Not only," she writes, "my clothing expenses, but also the expenses of my lodging, board, and furniture, have always been those of a frugal housewife. I never had but a mattress of wool, whatever the season, my tapestry was but light, and everything else was on a similar scale. As to the carriage that I kept, that is necessary to ladies of my rank, owing to their birth; it is, too, indispensable, owing to the length and dirt of the streets of Paris. Besides, the general and tyrannic fashion of the age makes the lack of a carriage so great a disgrace, that it is not permitted to those who would live with a certain amount of propriety to reflect whether they can afford one or not." A more laughable, as it was a less cruel, practical joke than that mentioned above was played upon her by the same gentlemen, of which an entertaining account is given by Tallemant in his historiette on Racan. It is perhaps worth quoting at full length as a specimen of many similar anecdotes which abound in the "Historiettes "" of Tallemant, who is the Brantôme of his period. the 66 am very happy to have made the acquaintance of two such handsome and witty gentlemen." With these words they separated. A moment afterwards the real Racan entered, terribly out of breath. He was somewhat asthmatic, and the lady was lodging on the third floor. "Mademoiselle," said he, somewhat unceremoniously, may I sit down?" He proceeded to do so very awkwardly, besides stammering as he spoke. “Oh, Jamyn, what an extraordinary creature," cried Mlle. de Gournay. "Mademoiselle, in a quarter of an hour, when I have taken breath, I shall be charmed to tell you why I have come. Might I ask why the devil you lodge so high up? Well, I must thank you for the present of your book; I am very much obliged to you for it." The lady, in spite of his thanks, continued to look at him with contempt. Jamyn," she said, "disabuse this poor gentleman. I have given copies only to M. de Malherbe and M. de Racan." 'Well, I am M. de Racan." "Oh, this is too good. At least the other two were pleasant enough, but this gentle 66 66 I The Chevalier de Bueil and M. de | you are the culprit. But never mind, Yvrande, knowing that Racan intended to youth may laugh at age. At all events I call on Mlle. de Gournay at three o'clock on a certain day to thank her for her book, bethought themselves of playing him and the poor lady a trick. The Chevalier went to her house at one, and proceeded to knock. Jamyn (her companion) informed Mlle. de Gournay that a gentleman wished to see her. She happened to be writing some poetry, but rising, said: "That was a happy thought I had, but perhaps it will return and this gentleman very possibly will not." The Chevalier was announced as M. de Racan; Mlle. de Gournay, who only knew the latter by name, believed it. She paid him a thousand compliments, in her usual way, and thanked him especially because, although he was young and handsome, he did not disdain to call on a poor old maid. The Chevalier, who was a man of wit, completely deceived her. She was charmed to see him in such a good humor, and, noticing that her cat was mewing, said to Jamyn: "Keep my pet Piaillon quiet, I want to listen to M. Racan." Soon after he had gone, Yvrande arrived, and, finding the door half open, said, as he came in, I enter in a very unceremonious man-man, Jamyn, is but a sorry buffoon. ner, mademoiselle, but the illustrious Mlle. C de Gournay ought not to be treated as an ordinary person.' "That's a very pleasant compliment," cried the old maid, "Jamyn, give me my tablets, I'll make a note of it." "I have come, mademoiselle," he continued, "to thank you for the honor you have done me in giving me your book.” "Excuse me, sir, I can't possibly have given it to you; still I ought to have done so. Jamyn, hand me a copy for this gentleman.' "I have one already, mademoiselle, and to prove it, I tell you there are such and such words in such and such a chapter." Afterwards he said that, in return for her present, he had brought her some verses of his own; she took them and proceeded to read them. "Ah, Jamyn, these are excellent - Jamyn can be present, sir, she is a natural daughter of Amadis Jamyn, a page of Ronsard's. This is very good indeed, here you imitate Malherbe and here you imitate Colomby: But am I not to know your name?" Certainly, mademoiselle, I'm called Racan. "You are making fun of me." "Am I likely to make fun of such a heroine, the adopted daughter of the great Montaigne ?" "Well, well," she swered, "the gentleman who has just left must have played a trick on me, or else 66 an don't know, sir, who you really are, but at However, the lady discovered her mistake later on, offered a full apology to the unfortunate poet, and they were the best of friends ever after. The above anecdote commonly known as "Les Trois Racaus," of which a slightly different version is given in the "Ménagiana" of Ménage (a learned pedant of the day and a friend of Mlle. de Gournay), who makes the infuriated lady belabor the mystified Racan with her shoe, hugely delighted all Paris. Boisrobert, who was a kind of head-buffoon in Richelieu's establishment, used to enact the scene for his benefit when the cardinal |