they were based upon the quality of the guests rather than upon
material display. But the modes of entertainment were as varied
as the tastes and abilities of the women who presided. Many of
the well-known salons were open daily. Sometimes there were
suppers, which came very much into vogue after the petits soupers
of the regent. The Duchesse de Choiseul, during the ministry of
her husband, gave a supper every evening excepting on Friday and
Sunday. At a quarter before ten the steward glanced through the
crowded rooms, and prepared the table for all who were present.
The Monday suppers at the Temple were thronged. On other days a
more intimate circle gathered round the tables, and the ladies
served tea after the English fashion. A few women of rank and
fortune imitated these princely hospitalities, but it was the
smaller coteries which presented the most charming and
distinctive side of French society. It was not the luxurious
salon of the Duchesse du Maine, with its whirl of festivities and
passion for esprit, nor that of the Temple, with its brilliant
and courtly, but more or less intellectual, atmosphere; nor that
of the clever and critical Marechale de Luxembourg, so elegant,
so witty, so noted in its day--which left the most permanent
traces and the widest fame. It was those presided over by women
of lesser rank and more catholic sympathies, of whom Voltaire
aptly said that "the decline of their beauty revealed the dawn of
their intellect;" women who had the talent, tact, and address to
gather about them a circle of distinguished men who have crowned
them with a luminous ray from their own immortality. The names
of Mme. de Lambert, Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du
Deffand, Mme. Necker, Mme. de Stael, and others of lesser note,
call up visions of a society which the world is not likely to see
repeated.