her rapid and flowing style, nothing is forgotten in her details, nothing escapes her in her descriptions. With what grace has she depicted the charming deliverer of the unhappy Lanval? Her beauty is equally impressive, engaging, and seductive; an immense crowd follows but to admire her; the white palfrey on which she rides seems proud of his fair burthen; the greyhound which follows her, and the falcon that she carries, announce her nobility. How splendid and commanding her appearance, and with what accuracy is the costume of the age she lived in observed? But Mary did not only possess a most refined taste, she had also to boast of a mind of sensibility. The English muse seems to have inspired her; all her subjects are sad and melancholy; she appears to have designed to melt the hearts of her readers, either by the unfortunate situation of her hero, or by some truly afflicting catastrophe. Thus she always speaks to the soul, calls forth all its feelings, and very frequently throws it into the utmost consternation.
Fauchet was unacquainted with the lays of Mary, for he only mentions her fables[1]. La Croix du Maine and Du Verdier have done nothing more than cite this latter work[2]. But what is more astonishing, Monsieur le Grand, who published many of her lays, has not ascribed them all to her. He had probably never met with a complete collection of them like that in the British Museum, but only some of those that had been separately transcribed; and, in that case, he could not have seen the preface to them, in which Mary has named herself.
The second work of our poetess consists of a collection of fables, generally called Æsopian, which she has translated into French verse.
In the prologue to this work she informs her readers that she
