also those moral reflections, in which the soul, refined by anguish, is elevated to the most sublime objects. Mr. D. had returned from Guienne, and was employed anew in Flanders. His business rendered a journey to Paris frequently necessary. Besides that she had his two brothers with her, who were strongly attached to her; so that she had all the consolation it was possible for her to receive. She lost the abbé de la Garde, and then Mr. Deshoulières, who died at Paris the 3d Jan. 1693, in the 72d year of his age. He was a man of honour, mild and amiable in his deportment. He was 42 at the time of their union. Though younger, she did not expect to survive him. The children renounced the succession of their father, and she saw but a gloomy prospect before her. Very little of her fortune remained, and her pension would cease at her death. These thoughts occasioned the allegorical verses to her sheep, which she recommended to the care of the king, under the name of the god Pan. age, which may Amid these distresses, and considering her be called advanced, that she should retain any part of her charms, seems almost incredible, yet that she did, admits of no doubt.— Mrs. le Hay, her friend, better known by the name of Miss Chéron, took her likeness in November 1693, from which all the engravings have been made. This induced her to compose reflections on the ardent desire of passing her name to posterity. We think this piece exhibits her own feelings, which she endeavours to overcome by sound argument. Furnishing so much matter for panegyric, she could hardly be entirely exempt from the impulse of vanity. Near the close of the same year, she paraphrased threc psalms, this was her last work. Her afflictions were so considerably increased in 1694, that her death was currently reported, until the editor of The Polite Mercury undeceived the public. But her disorder was incurable. She felt that she was gradually dying, showed her usual firmness and resignation, and when she saw death at her bedside, sought with fervour all the succour of the church. She expired with these sentiments the 17th February, 1694, having languished eleven years and six months. She was buried the 19th of the same month in the church of St. Roch. According to the statement of those who take an interest in her memory, she was upwards of sixty years of age. Her mind was delicate, her memory prodigious, her penetra'tion quick, her taste refined, and her genius extensive. Her works might be cited as models of the natural and pathetic: they are ranked with the most remarkable for elegance and genius in the reign of Louis XIV. "We admire" said the author of Parnasse Français, "the beauty of the thoughts, the grace of expression, and the harmony and disposition of the rhymes. No person ever spoke better of love and noble gallantry; nor treated better of morals, nor made more just reflections on the human mind. She is called, like Sappho, the tenth Muse, and the French Calliope." To these titles she justly joined those of generous friend, faithful consort, best of sisters, and, above all, most tender mother. To counterbalance so many excellent qualities, she might be reproached, in a few instances (rare indeed) with giving too full scope to her pleasantry, which perhaps slightly blemishes her glory. Her son died in the month of August following, in the 27th year of his age. He was named Jean Alexander de la Fon de Boisguerin Deshoulières. His conduct at first gave much pain to his family; but as the principle of it was spirit and vivacity, application succeeded his early aberrations. Miss Deshoulières was left sole heiress of the name and talents of her mother. Antoinette Theresa de la Fon de Boisguèrin Deshoulières, was born at Paris in 1662, and was nurtured in the very bosom of Poesy. It would have been singular, if, with natural talents, she had not succeeded; for, besides her mother, she had Corneille, Charpentier, Bencerade, and all the men of talents who visited Mrs. D. as instructors. Her capacity was first discovered in her letters; and Mr. de Pontis having dedicated to her in 1683, a narrative of the bombardment of Algiers, The Polite Mercury, which mentioned the circumstance, adds that she wrote as well in prose as Mrs. D. wrote in verse: the preface she wrote to her mother's works is a proof of it. She derived as much honour from her first attempt, as would gratify many poets at the end of their career; and the prize she obtained at the academy was still more glorious, because Fontenelle had written upon the same subject. Animated by the praises she received on this occasion, she made poetry her chief study. In 1688, she composed a short piece on the death of Cochon, the mareschal of Vivonne's dog; a humorous piece which was well received. Her mind was peculiarly adapted to works which required more delicacy than elevation; she succeeded perfectly in detached pieces and in depicting nature. She was very small, and by no means possessed the perfections of her mother; but her eyes were lively and gracious. She pleased without being handsome. She was remarkable for vivacity. There was no constraint in her manners; and by virtue and genius she made ample amends for the austerity of her exterior. Her excellent character procured her numerous friends, illustrious and faithful. The friendship of some was changed into love, among them was Mr. Caze, to whom she was not indifferent. Judging from the verses written by him and joined by Miss D. to hers, he was considered, in regard to mind, worthy of so fine a conquest. Whether he was so by birth and fortune, is what we have not been able to discover. We know only that he was in the army, and was killed in 1692. From the time of his death, the Muse of Miss D. which before delighted in song, poured out lamentations on the fate of Thirsis, which name she gave him, choosing for herself that of Tris. Her love which was founded on virtue, she did not conceal, nor her regret, which at once proved her candour and sensibility. The year following she lost her father, mother, brother, and uncles. So many reiterated losses overwhelmed her with grief, as appears by several pieces which she wrote upon the subject. Thus having survived all that was dear to her, she reaped the sorrows as well as the laurels with which Parnassus abounded on the death of her mother. The king gave her a pension the fifth of March, 1694, of three hundred livres, and an equal sum in August following. Perhaps she owed these to the memory of her mother. But undoubtedly her own merit alone procured that which she required in 1714, twenty years afterward, equal to both. Her pension was soon the only property she possessed. She thought herself obliged to pay the debts of her family, and gave up all the estates, though the resolution must have been painful to her at that juncture. In 1695 she published the rest of the works of Mrs. D. with her own annexed, which she acknowledged to be very inferior. She procured the beautiful engraving of her mother by Van Schupen from the original by Miss Chéron. She presented the works of her mother by the hand of Mr. d'Audiffret to the Academy at Ricovrate. The literati were of opinion they were the best substitute they could have for the loss of her mother. Mr. d'Audiffret was a Provençal gentleman, who possessed much will but little property, and who had been under great obligations to Mrs. Deshoulières. He accompanied the prince of Conti when king of Poland; and was sent ambassador to the court of Lorrain. On his return the friends of both proposed his marrying Miss D. with whose merit he apppeared to be touched before he set out on his travels. The negociation succeeded, and the parties were congratulated; but afterwards, whether Mr. d'Andiffret changed his mind with regard to her, or whether owing to some reflection of her own on the state of her health, is not known, they preferred continuing merely friends, and the marriage never took place. Miss D. wrote stanzas on the peace in 1697; and a hymn on the same subject when the war was hottest in 1703. She addressed an epistle to the king in 1714. She corresponded with a great many celebrated persons. The most considerable work of her undertaking was an opera of Callirhoé, of which she wrote the two first acts. She might have succeeded in this kind of writing if she had bent her mind to it. She discontinued her piece on hearing that another person was writing on the same subject. Roi, appeared in 1712. The opera of Callirhoé, by Mr. Miss D. composed towards the close of her life, an Invocation to Apollo on the regency of the duke of Orleans, and an Adieu to the Muses on account of the bad state of her health. Her temperament, which was always extremely delicate, frequently interrupted her studies. She was early attacked with the same disorder which afflicted her mother. But she was devoid of the same patient submission. After suffering twenty years, she died at Paris, the eighth of August 1718, aged fiftysix years, and was buried in the church of St. Roch by the side of her mother, of whom she was, if we may so speak, a diminutive; for it appeared as if Nature designed by her to exhibit to the suc ceeding generation a faint idea of her mother. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. ON THE STUDY OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. The book of NATURE is open to thy view. And read the dictates of the Almighty mind To search with the scrutinising eye of Philosophy into the secrets of Nature, and attempt the solution of her most intricate phenomena, to investigate the hidden properties of the minutest works of the Creator, and the laws of their reciprocal dependance on each other, is certainly an amusement the noblest and most pregnant with importance and utility, the human mind devested of prejudice, and unshackled by superstition, is capable of enjoying. To the unbelieving atheist and the superstitious bigot the study of nature affords an equally useful, and impressive lesson. To the view of the first it presents not only the works of God, but their mutual relation to and dependance on each other, for increase and existence; the progress of one part of the creation accelerated or retarded by its coöperation with others. The lines |