sional liveliness of remark, and its notice of a good many facts omitted by most of our other historians; yet, as its spirit was purely republican, its advancement to a s andard work was rendered impossible in England. The style is nervous and animated, although sometimes loose and inaccurate, and the reflections of the author are often acute and sagacious, always noble and benevolent. The five volumes of the History were followed, in 1778, by another, entitled "The History of England from the Revolution to the present time, in a series of Letters to the Reverend Dr. Wilson, rector of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, and prebendary of Westminster," 4to., Bath. The six letters of which this volume consists come down to the termination of the administration of Sir Robert Walpole, in 1742. A female historian, by its singularity, would not fail to excite curiosity; and as Mrs. Macaulay had ventured to step beyond the province of her sex, as it was then considered, she was more severely criticised for her political opinions than a man would have been. As her talents could not be denied, her adversaries resorted to petty, personal scurrilities against her. They said she was "deformed," "ugly," "disagreeable;" and that her ambition to become distinguished had, therefore, taken this course, most absurd for a woman -attempting to encroach on the province of man. Mrs. Arnold, a lady who subsequently became the warm friend of Mrs. Macaulay, remarks, that these notions had prejudiced her, and adds: "Judge then of my surprise, when I saw a woman elegant in her manners, delicate in her person, and with features, if not perfectly beautiful, so fascinating in their expression, as deservedly to rank her face among the higher order of human countenances. Her height was above the middle size, inclining to tall; her shape slender and elegant; the contour of her face, neck, and shoulders, graceful. The form of her face was oval, her complexion delicate, and her skin fine; her hair was of a mild brown, long and profuse; her nose between the Roman and the Grecian; her mouth small, her chin round, as was the lower part of her face, which made it appear to more advantage in front than in profile. Her eyes were as beautiful as imagination can conceive; full of penetration and fire; but their fire softened by the mildest beams of benevolence; their colour was a fine dark hazel, and their expression the indication of a superior soul. Infirm health, too often the attendant on an active and highly cultivated understanding, gave to her countenance an extreme delicacy, which was peculiarly interesting. To this delicacy of constitution was added a most amiable sensibility of temper, which rendered her feelingly alive to whatever concerned those with whom she was connected either by nature or by friendship."

In her friendships, we are told by this lady, she was fervent, disinterested, and sincere; zealous for the prosperity, and for the moral improvement, of those whom she distinguished and loved.

In 1785, Mrs. Macaulay visited the United States, and travelled through the greater part of the country, where she was very kindly received.

She terminated her journey by a visit to General
Washington, with whom she corresponded for the
remainder of her life. She resided after her re-
turn principally at Binfield, in Berkshire.

In 1778, or according to another account, in 1785, Mrs. Macaulay, having lost her first husband, married a Mr. Graham, of whom all that is told is that he was so many years her junior as to expose the lady to much irreverent remark. She also wrote several pamphlets, both during the progress of her great work, and after its completion. of these the catalogue-makers have preserved the following titles: "Remarks on Hobbe's Rudiments of Government and Society," 1767; enlarged and republished in 1769, with the more striking title of "Loose Remarks on some of Mr. Hobbes' Positions;" "Observations on a pamphlet (Burke's) entitled Thoughts on the Causes of the present Discontents," 1770; "An Address to the People of England, Scotland, and Ireland, on the present Important Crisis of Affairs," 1775; "A Treatise on the Immutability of Moral Truth," called in a second much enlarged edition, "Letters on Education," 1790; and "Observations on the Reflections of the Right Hon. E. Burke on the Revolution in France, in a Letter to the Right Hon. the Earl of Stanhope," 1791.

This excellent woman died June 23d, 1791. Her friend Mrs. Arnold, in her account of the private character of Mrs. Macaulay, says: "As a wife, a mother, a friend, neighbour, and the mistress of a family, she was irreproachable and exemplary. My sentiments of this amiable woman are derived from a long and intimate acquaintance with her various excellencies; and I have observed her in different points of view. I have seen her exalted on the dangerous pinnacle of worldly prosperity, surrounded by flattering friends, and an admiring world; I have seen her marked out by party prejudice as an object of dislike and ridicule; I have seen her bowed down by bodily pain and weakness; but never did I see her forget the urbanity of a gentlewoman, her conscious dignity as a rational creature, or a fervent aspiration after the highest degree of attainable perfection. I have seen her humble herself in the presence of her Almighty Father; and, with a contrite heart, acknowledging her sins and imploring his forgiveness; I have seen her languishing on the bed of sickness, enduring pain with the patience of a Christian, and with the firm belief, that the light. afflictions of this life are but for a moment, and that the fashion of the world will pass away, and give place to a system of durable happiness."

Dr. Wilson, prebendary of Westminster, was an enthusiastic admirer of hers, and erected a statue to her, as a patroness of liberty, in the church at Walbrook; but on the death of Dr. Wilson, this mark of homage was removed by his successor.

1

and after the independence was secured, they returned to Skye. Here Flora died, at the advanced age of seventy. By her particular request her body was enclosed and buried in one of the sheets that had been used by the unfortunate prince during the night he rested at Kingsburgh, and which she had preserved, unwashed, for that purpose. Flora Macdonald was the mother of seven children, all of whom were an honour to her name. Dr. Johnson's interview with her is recorded in his "Tour to the Hebrides."

trous defeat of Culloden, when prince Charles Edward, a hunted fugitive, was seeking concealment in the Western Isles, Flora was on a visit to her brother, in South Uist, where, as it happened, the prince lay hid. The circumstances which induced this young and beautiful girl to become the companion of the prince's wanderings, and the sharer of his dangers and almost unexampled hardships, have never been clearly explained. The most probable account, and no doubt the true one, is, that her stepfather, Hugh Macdonel, though in command of a company of royal militia, was in secret so well disposed towards the cause of the Stuarts, that he was induced to allow his stepdaughter to aid in the prince's escape, and to write privately to him by a trusty messenger, making him the offer. Flora was conducted to the prince at midnight, where in a lonely hut they concerted measures for his escape. The isles were overrun with soldiers; the prince's pursuers had traced him to South Uist, and thirty thousand pounds were offered for his apprehension. It was therefore necessary to be prompt, wary, and courageous, in the attempt, all of which qualities Flora brought to the undertaking. After passing through numerous adventures, concealed in rocks and caves, and exposed to imminent danger, they succeeded in leaving the isle; the prince dressed as a female, and personating the character of Betty Burke, an Irish woman in attendance upon Miss Macdonald. On approaching Skye, the boat was fired upon by the soldiers on shore, and Flora, though the bullets fell thick around her, positively refused the prince's request to lie down in the boat for shelter, unless he would consent to do so also, and he was obliged to yield to her importunities to ensure her safety. They succeeded in effecting a landing in Skye. Here, Flora was called upon to exercise all her skill, fortitude, and courage, in behalf of the prince; and many interesting anecdotes of the romantic incidents connected with her efforts to conceal and aid him in his escape, are on record. She conducted him in safety to Portaree, whose arrangements were made to convey him to a neighbouring island, and parted from him after receiving his warmest assurances of gratitude and regard. Twenty days after they parted the prince escaped to France, but before half that period had elapsed Flora was arrested, and carried on board a vessel of war, where she was confined five months. She was then conveyed to London, and detained under surveillance for eight months. In July, 1747, she was finally set at liberty, by the provisions of the Act of Indemnity. While in London, Flora was visited by people of the highest distinction, and on her departure she was presented with fifteen hundred pounds, which had been subscribed by the Jacobite ladies of the metropolis. In 1750, Flora became the wife of Alexander Macdonald, of Kingsburgh. A few years after, in consequence of the embarrassment of their affairs, they were compelled to emigrate to America, where they settled upon an estate which they purchased in North Carolina. On the breaking out of the revolutionary war, Macdonald sided with the royalist party,

MADISON, MRS.,

WAS the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Payne, of Virginia, members of the society of Friends, who manumitted their slaves soon after their marriage, and removed to Pennsylvania. Miss Dolly Payne was educated in Philadelphia, and, when very young, married Mr. Todd, a lawyer in that city, who soon left her a widow, with one son. In 1794, Mrs. Todd became the wife of Mr. James Madison, and went to live on his estates in Virginia, till he was appointed secretary of state, in 1801, when they removed to Washington, where Mrs. Madison won the admiration of all by the charms of her elegant hospitality. Mrs. Madison also presided at the White House, in the absence of Mr. Jefferson's daughters, and her frank and cordial manners gave a peculiar charm to the frequent parties there assembled. But there were individuals who never visited at the president's, nor met at the other ministerial houses, whom Mrs. Madison won, by the sweet influence of her conciliatory disposition, to join her evening circle, and sit at her husband's table-always covered with the profusion of Virginia hospitality, but not always in the style of European elegance. The wife of a foreign minister ridiculed the enormous size and number of the dishes, observing that "it was more like a harvest-home supper, than the entertainment of a secretary of state." Mrs. Madison heard of this and similar remarks, and only answered with a smile, "that she thought abundance was preferable to elegance; that circumstances formed customs, and customs formed taste; and as the profusion, so repugnant to fo

son of Louis XIV. and Madame de Montespan, who was then a year old, had not yet been made public. The child had a lame foot, and the physician advised that he should be sent to the waters of Barége. This trust was committed to Madame Scarron, as a safe person; and from this time she had the charge of the duke of Maine's education. The letters she wrote to the king on this subject charmed him, and were the origin of her fortune. Louis gave her the lands and name of Maintenon in 1679, which was the only estate she ever had, though afterwards in a position that afforded her an opportunity of acquiring an immense property.

Her elevation, however, was to her only a retreat. Shut up in her rooms, which were on the same floor with the king, she confined herself to the society of two or three ladies, whom she saw but seldom. The king came to her apartment every day, and continued there till after midnight. Here he did business with his ministers, while Madame de Maintenon employed herself with reading or needle-work, carefully avoiding all interference in state affairs, but studying more how to please him who governed, than to govern. She made but little use of her influence over the king, either to enable her to confer benefits or do injuries.

About the end of 1685, Louis married Madame de Maintenon. She was then fifty years of age, and the king forty-eight. This union was kept a profound secret, and she enjoyed very little public distinction in consequence of her elevation. But after the king began to lead this retired life with Madame de Maintenon, the court grew every day more serious; and the monotony of her life was so great, that she once exclaimed to her brother, "I can bear this no longer; I wish I were dead!”

The convent of St. Cyr was built by her at the end of the park of Versailles, in 1686. She gave the form to this establishment, assisted in making the rules, and was herself superior of the convent, where she often went to dissipate her ennui and melancholy.

The king died, September 2d, 1715; after which event, Madame de Maintenon retired wholly to St. Cyr, and spent the remainder of her days in acts of devotion. Louis XIV. made no certain provision for her, but recommended her to the duke of Orleans, who bestowed on her a pension of 80,000 livres, which was all she would accept. She died, April 15th, 1719.

In 1756, the letters of Madame de Maintenon were published in nine volumes, at Amsterdam; but with many arbitrary changes. Another, and more complete edition, was published in 1812. In 1848, "A History of Madame de Maintenon, &c., by M. le Duc de Noailles," appeared in Paris. This last work gives a highly favourable portrait of the character of Madame de Maintenon. Her talents no one ever questioned; and none, save the enemies of virtue, have doubted hers. The following morceaux are from her published letters:

tions. Songez, mon cher frère, au voyage d'Amé-
rique, aux malheurs de notre père, aux malheurs
de notre enfance, à ceux de notre jeunesse, et vous
bénirez la providence, au lieu de murmurer contre
la fortune. Il y a dix ans que nous étions bien
éloignés l'un et l'autre du point où nous sommes
aujourd'hui. Nos espérances étaient si peu de
chose, que nous bornions nos vues à trois mille
livres de rente. Nous en avons à présent quatre
fois plus, et nos souhaits ne seraient pas encore
remplis! Nous jouissons de cette heureuse médio-
crité que vous vantiez si fort. Soyons contens.
Si les biens nous viennent, recevons-les de la main
de Dieu; mais n'ayons pas de vues trop vastes.
Nous avons le nécessaire et le commode; tout le
reste n'est que cupidité. Tous ces désirs de gran-
deur partent du vide d'un cœur inquiet. Toutes
vos dettes sont payées; vous pouvez vivre déli-
cieusement, sans en faire de nouvelles. Que dé-
sirez-vous de plus? Faut-il que des projets de
richesse et d'ambition vous coûtent la perte de
votre repos et de votre santé ? Lisez la vie de
Saint Louis, vous verrez combien les grandeurs de
ce monde sont au-dessous des désirs du cœur de
l'homme. Il n'y a que Dieu qui puisse le rassa-
sier. Je vous le répète, vous n'êtes malheureux
que par votre faute. Vos inquiétudes détruisent
votre santé, que vous devriez conserver, quand ce
ne serait que parce que je vous aime. Travaillez
sur votre humeur; si vous pouvez la rendre moins
bilieuse et moins sombre, ce sera un grand point
de gagné. Ce n'est point l'ouvrage des réflexions
seules; il y faut de l'exercice, de la dissipation,
une vie unie et réglée. Vous ne penserez pas bien,
tant que vous vous porterez mal; dès que le corps
est dans l'abattement, l'âme est sans vigueur.
Adieu. Ecrivez-moi plus souvent, et sur un ton
moins lugubre.

LETTRE À M. D'AUBIGNÉ, SON FRÈRE.

On n'est malheureux que par sa faute. Ce cera toujours mon texte et ma réponse à vos lamenta

A MADAME DE ST. GÉRAN.

Vous voulez savior, Madame, ce qui m'a attiré
un si beau présent. La chose du monde la plus
simple. On croit dans le monde que je le dois à
Madame de Montespan, on se trompe: je le dois
au petit duc. Le roi s'amusant avec lui, et con-
tent de la manière dont il répondit à ses questions,
lui dit: "Vous êtes bien raisonnable."- "Il faut
que je le sois, répondit l'enfant ; j'ai une gouver-
nante qui est la raison même."—"Allez lui dire,
reprit le roi, que vous lui donnerez ce soir cent
mille francs pour vos dragées." La mère me
brouille avec le roi; son fils me réconcilie avec
lui; je ne suis pas deux jours de suite dans la
même situation: je ne me fais point à cette vie,
moi qui me croyais capable de me faire à tout.
On ne m'envierait pas ma condition, si l'on savait
de combien de peines elle est environnée, combien
de chagrin elle me coûte. C'est un assujettisse-
ment qui n'a point d'exemple; je n'ai ni le temps
d'écrire, ni de faire mes prières; c'est un vérita-
ble esclavage. Tous mes amis s'adressent à moi,
et ne voient pas que je ne puis rien, même pour
mes parens. On ne m'accordera point le régi-
ment que je demande depuis quinze jours: on ne
m'écoute que quand on n'a personne à écouter.
J'ai parlé trois fois à M. Colbert; je lui ai repré-