The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-10-27

Antiquity is far from having furnished me
all the materials for il; the IDEAL was re-
vealed to me by you. shall explain all
these things one day; choose the world to
know that SO perfect creature was not
created by me.
And again, at later age, he says:
g If my name survives me, which appears
more and more probable, shall be called
the philosopher of tho Abbye aux Bots,
and my philosophy will be considered as
inspired by you. Remember that it was
only through Eurydice that Orpheus tad
any true mission to his brother men; and
remember, TOO, that Eurydiee was mar
vellous vision. The dedication Of the Pal
iigenesie will explain all this TO posterity.
This thought is one Of my joys Ibelisve
that am now entering on the last staged
my life; this stage may be prolonged Tor
some time, but know well what what is
at the end Of it. shall fall asleep in The
bosom Of great hope, and full Of conf
dence in the thought that your memory and
mine will live the same life.
have been the more desiIous to enlarge
on this part Of Mime. Recanlier's life, be-
cause il illustrates what have 80 often re.
marked, the Incompatible tenderness and
consistency Of the French in Friendship
How the vulgar notion OF the instability Of
French friendship arose, cannot guess
Nobody can have lived among them with
out seeing instances Of devo,edness to which
We can offer no parallel. IL it be thought
that | am exaggerating, let anybody show
ME here in England an example of wo-
man who has neither youth nor beauty,
fortune, nor what is called connection, liv-
ing in most remote and inconvenient spot,
and going nowhere, whose modest salon
is the daily resort Of FIVE or six among the
most eminent men in the country, and the
frequent resort Of great number Of distin-
guished men and women.
And Nine. Recamier, however supreme,
was far from being alone in this respect
| could mention other houses in Paris where
faithful band assembled, with nearly equal
punctuality around the friend Of many
years. Were it permitted to speak OF onb's
self, my own experience would suffice to
prove the steadiness, warmth, aud devoted.
ness of French friendship but shall have
another example Of it to cite among the
friends of Nine. Recamier.
] In the month of June, 1S47, nj. Bal
lanehe, whose health was very infrm, was
attacked with Inflammation Of the lungs.
During the eight days his illness lasted, bis
sweetness and serenity never abandoned
him for all instant, and at last he experi.
enced the great Joy Of seeing her who was
the life Of his heart take her seat, suffering
and blind, by his bedside, which she did
not quit, till, with the calmness Of sage
and the resignation Of saint. he fell asleep,
as he had said, in the bosom Of great
hope"
| shall never forget the sort Of conster
nation, mingled with sorrow which this
death caused. Everybody felt regret for sc
pure and excellent a man, but yet more ol
grief and pity for Nine. Recamier, whose
loss was felt TO be overwhelming and Ell
tirely irreparable. had happened to hear
that Nj. Ampere, whom | knew 10 have
been for some time suffering from the effecrs
Of his dangerous illness in Egypt, was go.
ing TO recruit his shattered health in the
Pyrenees. He was to accompany NJ.
Cousin, and the day Of their departure was
fixed. Two or three days after the death
Of NJ. BallanChe | went to the Abbaye
aux Bots TO inquire for Nine. Recamier. -
NJ. Ampere, who had instantly taken, as far
as it las possible, the place Of his venerable
and lainonted friend, came out 10 speak to
me. After talking Of her and her unut.
terable loss, | said, "And you? You will
be obliged to give up your Journey. -.
"Oh," said he, 'Je ny pe'asais plus. -.
The demands and perils of his own health
were utterly forgotten. M. Ampere has, 7
am sure, totally forgotten our conversation,
but | do not forget the effect it produced on
me.
should gladly digress little to quote
the beautiful speech which M. de Tocque-
vile, in the name Of the Academic, pro.
nounced over the grave Of M. Ballanche;
OF the eloquent address to the departed OF
his fellow townsman, NJ. de la Prade.--
A few words OF the latter cannot bear to
omit:
There was in your mind, in its serenity,
its charming simplicity, its tenderness,
something more than is found in the wisest
and the best. Your virtue was of a divine
nature; il was at once a prolonged inno-
cence and an acquired wisdom. In you,
learned old age had retained the purity and
the candor which in others does not out.
live infancy. Serene and radiant as your
soul may now be in the mansions of peace,
we can hardly conceive Of it as more low
ing and more pure than we beheld it on
this earth of impurity and strife.
Such was the friend who was taken from
Nine. Recamier, when age and infrmity
had made him most necessary to her. No
wonder that she never recovered from the
shock. The last interview had with her
has left on my mind picture which no
length Of years will eface. The servant
who came to the door told me he did not
think Nine. Recamier could SEQ me; she
had one OF her attacks in the throat, and
had completely lost her voice--but he
would inquire. said, did not expect to
be received; | wanted TO know how she
was. He returned, saying Nine. Recamier
wished to see me. 1t was early-before
three-and she was alone. She was sit
ting with her hands folded on her lap, and
her feet resting on the ledge of low chair
before her, in an attitude of utter though