and in cold blood, while on the contrary they are the product of the first impulse of the effort we instinctively make to find an expression corresponding to the intensity of our passion.  There is nothing of this kind in Madame de Sevigne’s letters; and however violent her grief may be, it always speaks in accurate and fitting language.  This is a valuable quality, and one extremely rare.  That we may not be surprised at finding it so highly developed in her, we need only remember what has just been said of the way in which she was unconsciously prepared to become a great writer.

Another characteristic of Madame de Sevigne’s letters, not less remarkable, is that generally her most loving messages are cleverly expressed.  I do not refer merely to certain isolated phrases that have sometimes appeared rather affected.  “The north wind bound for Grignan makes me ache for your chest.”  “My dear, how the burden within you weighs me down!” “I dare not read your letters for fear of having read them.”  These are only occasional flashes; but almost always, when on the point of giving way to all her emotion, she gives her phrase an ingenious turn, she makes witty observations, is bright, pleasing, elegant.  All this seems to some readers to proceed from a mind quite self-possessed, and not so far affected by passion as to be inattentive to elegant diction.

Just now I placed naturalness among Madame de Sevigne’s leading qualities.  There are those who are not of this opinion, and contend that naturalness is just the merit she most lacks; but we must define our meaning.  Naturalness for each one is what is conformable to his nature; and as each one of us has a nature of his own very different from that of his neighbors, naturalness cannot be exactly the same in every instance.  Moreover, education and habit give us each a second nature which often has more control over us than the original one.  In the society in which Madame de Sevigne lived, people made a point of speaking wittily.  The first few times one appeared in this society, it required a little study and effort to assume the same tone as the rest.  One had to be on the watch for those pleasant repartees that, among the frequenters of the Rambouillet and Richelieu houses, gave the new-comer a good reputation; but after a while these happy sayings came unsought.  To persons trained in such a school, what might at first sight appear subtle and refined is ordinary and natural.  Whether they speak or write, their ideas take a certain form which is not the usual one; and bright, witty, and dainty phrases, which would require labor from others, occur to them spontaneously.