GRIGNAN, March 29, 1696.
[329] As the death of Madame de Sévigné happened in the beginning
of April, it is probable that this letter is the last she wrote.
We consider its recovery as a fortunate circumstance.
When I have no other employment I weep and bewail aloud the death
of Blanchefort, that amiable, that excellent youth, who was held
up to all our young people as a model for imitation. A reputation
completely established, valor acknowledged and worthy of his name,
a disposition happy for himself (for a bad disposition is a torment
to its possessor), for his friends, and for his family; alive to the
affection of his mother and his grandmother, loving them, honoring
them, appreciating their merit, taking pleasure in proving to them
his gratitude, and thereby repaying them for their extreme affection;
uniting good sense with a fine person; not vain of his youth, as
most young people are, who seem to think themselves paragons of
perfection--and this dear boy, with all his perfections, gone in a
moment, like a blossom borne away by the wind, without being in battle,
without having an opportunity to fight, and without breathing even an
unhealthy air! Where, my dear cousin, can we find words to express
our ideas of the grief of these two mothers, and to convey to them an
adequate sense of what we feel here? We do not think of writing to
them, but if at any time you should have an opportunity of mentioning
my daughter, and me, and the Grignans, make known our regret at
this irreparable misfortune. Madame de Vins has lost every thing, I
own;[330] for when the heart has chosen between two sons, one only is
seen. I can talk of nothing else. I bow in reverence to the holy and
modest tomb of Madame de Guise, whose renunciation of that of the kings
her ancestors, merits an eternal crown. I think M. de Saint-Géran happy
indeed, and so I think you, for having to comfort his wife; say to her
for us every thing you think proper. And as for Madame de Miramion,
that mother of the church, she will be a public loss. Adieu, my dear
cousin, I can not change my tone. You have finished your jubilee. The
delightful trip to Saint Martin’s has closely followed the sackcloth
and ashes you mentioned to me. The happiness M. and Madame de Marsan
are now enjoying well deserves that you should sometimes see them, and
put them into your basket; and I deserve a place in that in which you
put those who love you; but I fear that for them you have no basket.
[330] Madame de Vins had lost an only son.