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unable to refuse, but it only tended to confirm the palfion that carried him slowly to his grave.
The Chevalier de Menil was set at liberty, but exiled to his estate at Anjou. She was detained some months longer. The correspondence by letters was renewed: but MENIL, now at liberty and among his acquaintances, was less paffionate and exact than MENIL in the Bastile.
“ Being at a window, I saw MAISON-ROUGE coming “ in a great hurry across the court with a paper in his “ hand. He entered my room in a state of perturba66 tion that alarmed me. While I was looking at him “ with astonishment, he gave me the paper-it was “ the lettre de cachet that set me at liberty :
-You are “ now free, said he, and I lose you-I most ardently " defired this moment I would have given my life to
procure your liberty-it is obtained, and I shall cease “ to see you !” She was discharged from the Bastile on the 6th of June 1720.-The cat, that had amused her in her solitude, became the favourite companion of MAISON-ROUGE.--He says, in a letter to her, dated the 7th, “ I wished you away--you are gone, and I
The robuft health of MAISON-ROUGE from this time VOL. IV.
gradually declined. To restore it, he was sent to drink the waters in his native province, where in a few months he ended his life, "of which he had long been weary. "
Mademoiselle de LAUNAY resumed her place about the person, and in the confidence, of the Duchess of MAINE. But the impatience of de Menil to see her, fell infinitely short of what she had expected. The impreffions he had received, while a prisoner like herself, were gone off; and after a few months spent in pretexts on one hand, and disappointment on the other, their connection ended.
RONDELL was taken into the service of the Duchess of MAINE.-Madeinoiselle de LAUNAY refused several proposals of marriage, and, among others, of DACIER, after the death of his celebrated wife. She at last married Monfieur de STAAL, an officer of a good family, but small fortune, and a widower with two daughters. She died at Passy, on the 15th of June 1750.
This is an art
There is hardly any delufion by which men are greater fufferers in their happiness than by their expecting too much from what is called pleasure ; that is, from thofe intenfe delights which vulgarly engrofs the name of pleasure. The very expectation spoils them. When they do come, we are often engaged in taking pains to persuade ourselves how much we are pleased, rather than enjoying any pleasure which springs naturally out of the object. And whenever we depend upon being vastly delighted, we most frequently go home secretly grieved at miffing our aim. Likewise, when this humour of being prodigioufly delighted has once taken hold of the imagination, it hinders us from providing for, or acquiescing in, those gentle soothing engagements, a due variety and succession of which are the only things that fup
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ply a continued stream of happiness. It has been shewn, there is a limit at which they ever afterwards decline. They are by necessity of short duration, as the organs cannot hold on their emotions beyond a certain length of time; and if you endeavour to compensate for this imperfection in their nature, by the frequency with which you repeat them, you lose more than you gain by the fatigue of the faculties and diminution of sensibility. We have in this account said nothing of the loss of opportunities, or the decay of faculties, which whenever they happen leave the voluptuary destitute and desperate; teased by desires that can never be gratified, and the memory of pleasures which must return no more. On the contrary, moderate enjoyment, admitting frequent reiteration without diminution, and occupying the mind without exhausting it, gets gradually stronger, till it becomes a HABIT. As business is often painful, and is never pleasant beyond a certain bound, the habitual increase of moderate pleasures, are admirably contrived for reconciling us to whatever course of life may be our lot. The HABITS themselves are much the same; for whatever is made habitual becomes smooth, and easy, and often almost indifferent. The return to an old habit is likewise easy, whatever the habit be. Therefore the advantage is on the side of those habits which allow of indulgence in the deviation of them. The luxurious receive no greater pleasure from their dainties than the peasant does from his bread and cheese ; but the peasant whenever he goes abroad finds a feast, whereas the epi-' cure must be well entertained to escape disgust. Those who spend every day at a coffee-house reading the magazines and papers, and those who go every day to the plough, pass their time much alike; intent upon what they are about, wanting nothing, regretting nothing, they are both in a state of ease': but then, whatever, suspends the occupation of the frequenter of the coffeehouse distresses him; whereas to the labourer, every interruption is a refreshment: and this appears in the dif-' ferent effect that Sabbath produces upon the two, which proves a day of recreation to the one, but lamentable burden to the other. The man who has learned to live alone, feels his spirits enlivened whenever he enters into company, and takes his leave without regret: another, who has long been accustomed to a crowd or continual succession of company, experiences in company no great elevation of spirits, nor much higher satisfaction than what the man of a retired life finds in his chimneySo far their conditions are equal : but let a