t was about the only social gathering point where culture and
morality were the primary requisites. As she advanced in years, she
became even more influential. After her death in 1733, her salon
ceased to exist, but others, patterned after hers, soon sprang up; to
those, her friends attached themselves--Fontenelle frequented several,
Henault became the leader of that of Mme. du Deffand.

The finest resume that can be given of Mme. de Lambert, is found in
the letters of the Marquis d'Argenson: "Her works contain a complete
course in the most perfect morals for the use of the world and the
present time. Some affectation of the _preciosite_ is found; but, what
beautiful thoughts, what delicate sentiments! How well she speaks
of the duties of women, of friendship, of old age, of the difference
between actual character and reputation!"

The salon of Mme. de Lambert forms a period of transition from the
seventeenth century type in which elegance, politeness, courtesy, and
morality were the first requisites, to the eighteenth century salon in
which _esprit_ and wit were the essentials demanded. It retained the
dignity, discipline, refinement, and sentiments of morality of
the Hotel de Rambouillet; it showed, also, the first signs of
pure intellectuality. The salons to follow, will exhibit decidedly
different characteristics.

Chapter V

Mistresses and Wives of Louis XIV

The story of the wives and mistresses of Louis XIV., embraces that
which is most dramatic morally (or immorally dramatic) in the history
of French women. The record of the eighteenth century heroines is
essentially a tragic one, while that of those of the previous century
is essentially dramatic in its sadness, remorse, and repentance.

The mistress, as a rule, was unhappy; there were few months during the
period of her glory, in which she was entirely free from anxiety or in
which her conscience was at rest. Mme. de Montespan "was for so many
years the sick nurse of a soul worn out with pride, passion, and
glory." Mme. de Maintenon wrote to one of her friends: "Why cannot
I give you my experience? Why cannot I make you comprehend the ennui
which devours the great, and the troubles that fill their days? Do you
not see that I am dying of sadness, in a fortune the vastness of which
could not be easily imagined? I have been young and pretty; I have
enjoyed pleasures; I have spent years in intellectual intercourse;
I have attained favor; and I prote