I shall complete the reading of this with pleasure." Here we have the real Madame de Sevigne, whom we love, on whom we rely, who is as earnest as she is amiable and gay, who goes to the very core of things, and who tells the truth of herself as well as of others.

"You ask me, my dear child, whether I continue to be really fond of life.

I confess to you that I find poignant sorrows in it, but I am even more disgusted with death; I feel so wretched at having to end all this thereby, that, if I could turn back again, I would ask for nothing better.

I find myself under an obligation which perplexes me: I embarked upon life without my consent, and I must go out of it; that overwhelms me.

And how shall I go?
Which way?
By what door?
When will it be?
In what condition?
Shall I suffer a thousand, thousand pains, which will make me die desperate?
Shall I have brain-fever?
Shall I die of an accident?
How shall I be with God?
What shall I have to show Him?
Shall fear, shall necessity bring me back to Him?
Shall I have no sentiment but that of dread?
What can I hope?
Am I worthy of heaven?
Am I worthy of hell?
Nothing is such madness as to leave one's salvation in uncertainty, but nothing is so natural; and the stupid life I lead is the easiest thing in the world to understand.