eeding with his last work, 'L'Ancien
Regime et la Revolution,' he wrote: "After sitting at my desk for five
or six hours, I can write no longer; the machine refuses to act. I am in
great want of rest, and of a long rest. If you add all the perplexities
that besiege an author towards the end of his work, you will be able to
imagine a very wretched life. I could not go on with my task if it
were not for the refreshing calm of Marie's companionship. It would be
impossible to find a disposition forming a happier contrast to my own.
In my perpetual irritability of body and mind, she is a providential
resource that never fails me." [2013]

M. Guizot was, in like manner, sustained and encouraged, amidst his many
vicissitudes and disappointments, by his noble wife. If he was treated
with harshness by his political enemies, his consolation was in the
tender affection which filled his home with sunshine. Though his public
life was bracing and stimulating, he felt, nevertheless, that it was
cold and calculating, and neither filled the soul nor elevated the
character. "Man longs for a happiness," he says in his 'Memoires,' "more
complete and more tender than that which all the labours and triumphs of
active exertion and public importance can bestow. What I know to-day,
at the end of my race, I have felt when it began, and during its
continuance. Even in the midst of great undertakings, domestic
affections form the basis of life; and the most brilliant career has
only superficial and incomplete enjoyments, if a stranger to the happy
ties of family and friendship."

The circumstances connected with M. Guizot's courtship and marriage are
curious and interesting. While a young man living by his pen in
Paris, writing books, reviews, and translations, he formed a casual
acquaintance with Mademoiselle Pauline de Meulan, a lady of great
ability, then editor of the PUBLICISTE. A severe domestic calamity
having befallen her, she fell ill, and was unable for a time to carry on
the heavy literary work connected with her journal. At this juncture a
letter without any signature reached her one day, offering a supply of
articles, which the writer hoped would be worthy of the reputation of
the PUBLICISTE. The articles duly arrived, were accepted, and
published. They dealt with a great variety of subjects--art, literature,
theatricals, and general criticism. When the editor at length recovered
from her illness, the writer of the articles disclosed