the phenomena of the age," she writes, "and certainly
the most amiable.... You can look back upon the past without remorse. At
any age this is the most beautiful of privileges, but at our time of
life it is invaluable." Madame Lenormant, even more enthusiastic, calls
her a saint, which she certainly was not, but a gracious woman of the
world. Some acts of her life it is impossible to defend. They tarnish
the lustre of an otherwise irreproachable career. Still, when we think
of the low tone of morals prevalent in her youth, together with her many
and great temptations, it is surprising that she should have preserved
her purity of heart, and earned the respect and love of the best and
wisest of her contemporaries. No woman has ever received more universal
and uniform homage, or has been more deeply lamented. Her death left a
void in French society that has never been filled. The _salon_, which,
from its origin in the seventeenth century, was so vital an element in
Paris life, no longer exists. That of the Hotel de Rambouillet was the
first; that of the Abbaye-aux-Bois the last. "_On se reunit encore, on
donne des fetes splendides, on ne cause plus_."

* * * * *

THE WELLFLEET OYSTERMAN.

Having walked about eight miles since we struck the beach, and passed
the boundary between Wellfleet and Truro, a stone post in the sand,--for
even this sand comes under the jurisdiction of one town or another,--we
turned inland over barren hills and valleys, whither the sea, for some
reason, did not follow us, and, tracing up a hollow, discovered two or
three sober-looking houses within half a mile, uncommonly near the
eastern coast. Their garrets were apparently so full of chambers that
their roofs could hardly lie down straight, and we did not doubt that
there was room for us there. Houses near the sea are generally low and
broad. These were a story and a half high; but if you merely counted the
windows in their gable-ends, you would think that there were many
stories more, or, at any rate, that the half-story was the only one
thought worthy of being illustrated. The great number of windows in the
ends of the houses, and their irregularity in size and position, here
and elsewhere on the Cape, struck us agreeably,--as if each of the
various occupants who had their _cunabula_ behind had punched a hole
where his necessities required it, and according to his size and
stature, without regard to outside eff