furnaces, drugs and minerals,
diminishing those charms and accomplishments which might have been the
delight of the most elegant circles. But though these interested
wretches took advantage of her ill-applied education to obscure her
natural good sense, her excellent heart retained its purity; her amiable
mildness, sensibility for the unfortunate, inexhaustible bounty, and
open, cheerful frankness, knew no variation; even at the approach of old
age, when attacked by various calamities, rendered more cutting by
indigence, the serenity of her disposition preserved to the end of her
life the pleasing gayety of her happiest days.

Her errors proceeded from an inexhaustible fund of activity, which
demanded perpetual employment. She found no satisfaction in the
customary intrigues of her sex, but, being formed for vast designs,
sought the direction of important enterprises and discoveries. In her
place Madam de Longueville would have been a mere trifler, in Madam de
Longueville's situation she would have governed the state. Her talents
did not accord with her fortune; what would have gained her distinction
in a more elevated sphere, became her ruin. In enterprises which suited
her disposition, she arranged the plan in her imagination, which was ever
carried of its utmost extent, and the means she employed being
proportioned rather to her ideas than abilities, she failed by the
mismanagement of those upon whom she depended, and was ruined where
another would scarce have been a loser. This active disposition, which
involved her in so many difficulties, was at least productive of one
benefit as it prevented her from passing the remainder of her life in the
monastic asylum she had chosen, which she had some thought of. The
simple and uniform life of a nun, and the little cabals and gossipings of
their parlor, were not adapted to a mind vigorous and active, which,
every day forming new systems, had occasions for liberty to attempt their
completion.

The good bishop of Bernex, with less wit than Francis of Sales, resembled
him in many particulars, and Madam de Warrens, whom he loved to call his
daughter, and who was like Madam de Chantel in several respects, might
have increased the resemblance by retiring like her from the world, had
she not been disgusted with the idle trifling of a convent. It was not
want of zeal prevented this amiable woman from giving those proofs of
devotion which might have been expected from a new