She then married the innocent young girl to the Marquis de Caylus, a debauched, worthless reprobate—­a union whose only merit lay in the fact that her niece could thus remain near her at court.  At the latter place, her beauty, gayety, and caustic wit, her adaptable and somewhat superficial character and her freedom of manners and speech, did not fail to attract many admirers.  Her frankness in expressing her opinions was the source of her disgrace; Louis XIV. took her at her word when she exclaimed, in speaking of the court:  “This place is so dull that it is like being in exile to live here,” and forbade her to appear again in the place she found so tiresome.  Those rash words cost her an exile of thirteen years, and only through good behavior, submission, and piety was she permitted to return.

She appeared at a supper given by the king, and, by the brilliancy of her beauty and esprit, she attracted everyone present and soon regained her former favor and friends.  From that time she was the constant companion of Mme. de Maintenon, until the king’s death, when she returned to Paris; at that place her salon became an intellectual centre, and there the traditions of the seventeenth century were perpetuated.

Sainte-Beuve said that Mme. de Caylus perfectly exemplified what was called urbanity—­“politeness in speech and accent as well as in esprit.”  In her youth she was famous for her extraordinary acting in the performance, at Saint-Cyr, of Racine’s Esther.  Mme. de Sevigne wrote:  “It is Mme. de Caylus who makes Esther.”  Her brief and witty Souvenirs (Memoirs), showing marvellous finesse in the art of portraiture, made her name immortal.  M. Saint-Amand describes her work thus: 

“Her friends, enchanted by her lively wit, had long entreated her to write—­not for the public, but for them—­the anecdotes which she related so well.  Finally, she acquiesced, and committed to paper certain incidents, certain portraits.  What a treasure are these Souvenirs—­so fluently written, so unpretentious, with neither dates nor chronological order, but upon which, for more than a century, all historians have drawn!  How much is contained in this little book which teaches more in a few lines than interminable works do in many volumes!  How feminine it is, and how French!  One readily understands Voltaire’s liking for these charming Souvenirs.  Who, than Mme. de Caylus, ever better applied the famous precept:  ’Go lightly, mortals; don’t bear too hard.’”

She belonged to that class of spontaneous writers who produce artistic works without knowing it, just as M. Jourdain wrote prose, and who do not even suspect that they possess that chief attribute of literary style—­naturalness.  What pure, what ready wit!  What good humor, what unconstraint, what delightful ease!  What a series of charming portraits, each more lifelike, more animated, still better than all the others!  “These little miniatures—­due to the brush of a woman of the world—­are better worth studying than is many a picture or fresco.”