[3] The lady here mentioned was Madame de la Mesangire of Rouen. She was a beautiful brunette; but in compliance with her desire to be concealed, the author has spoken of her in the following pages, as having a fair complexion. The park belonging to her residence, is described in the "First Evening."
You expect to be entertained with a history of splendid feasts, hunting, and card-parties; and you will hear of nothing, but planets, worlds, and vortexes:[4] for the discussion of these latter subjects, formed our principal amusement. Fortunately you are a philosopher, therefore I have the less reason to dread raillery from such a quarter; on the reverse, I may even hope for your congratulations, on having rendered the Marchioness sensible to the charms of philosophy: we could not have made a more valuable acquisition; for youth and beauty, in every cause holds such power, that if wisdom herself were desirous of being welcomed by mortals, and would assume the form of this lovely woman, surely with such an exterior, and such fascinating eloquence, she could not fail to attract every heart.
[4] The Vortexes of Descartes, occupied the attention of the learned, for nearly a century; but this hypothesis was superceded by a discovery of the laws of attraction. Although Newton's famous book on principles was published in 1687, Fontenelle always retained his educational prejudice in favour of the Vortexes. A few years before his death, he consulted me on a little work he had some time since composed on the subject. I endeavoured to dissuade him from making it public; but Falconet was afterwards weak enough to do so. The book is entitled "Theory of the Cartesian Vortexes, with Reflections on Attraction." The author's name was never affixed to the work.
Notwithstanding all this, you must not expect to be transported with admiration, whilst I repeat the conversations I have held with her ladyship: my genius should be equal with her's, to relate what she said, in her own delightful manner. Conscious of inability, I must relinquish the attempt, and leave you to discern through the recital, that rapidity of apprehension, which characterizes the mind of the Marchioness. From the wonderful quickness with which she comprehends the most abstruse subjects, I consider her already learned: at least, I may be allowed to say, that after a little study, she might attain the heights of science; when many, who spend their lives amid the dull disputes of vast libraries, remain for ever in the deepest ignorance.
Before I recount our various conversations, perhaps you may expect some description of their scene; some picture of the romantic country, under whose shades the Marchioness is enjoying the autumn. If so, you will be disappointed: so many people have exercised their talents on this gay species of writing, that I shall dispense with the ceremony, and merely say, that on my arrival I had the pleasure of finding myself the only visitor.
The two first days were passed in relating the news of Paris, which I had just quitted. When that subject was exhausted, an evening walk in the park, suggested the discussion of those learned topics, the commencement of which you will find in the next page.
FIRST EVENING.[5]
[5] This first book has been translated into a variety of languages; it is the best eclogue that has been composed in the last fifty years: the descriptions and imagery it contains are perfectly suited to the style of pastoral poetry; indeed many of the images would not have disgraced the pen of a Virgil.
Dubos. Reflections on Poetry and Painting.