The daily national Whig. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1847-1849, 1849-01-31

other hand the breaking of my heart, of which the
act before me was to cause mo to do with my own
hand sacrifice Of self-loyo or sacrifice Of feel
ing, was to- be made. covered my eyes with my
hand. made the choice with my heart. l took
the plan OF the alse Of Mly from the hands OF the
notary. tore Il, md replied to M. dc @. II ae-
cept." AIllly was saved and was boupd.--1hiak
of Bien Assis and condemn me If you dare.-In my
place would you have done otherwisel
BE calm, however. In giving up these simple
pages have given up nothing but myself There Is
In them neither name nor memory which can
suffer pain or a shadow from my indiscretion.
have lived In an atmosphere Of goodness, of genius,
Of generosity, Of love and virtue. remember only
the good; forget the others without effort. My soul
is like those Stoves In which the Mexican gold washe
separate the SIND from the pure gold In the tor
rents Of the Cordilleras. The sand falls through tho
gold remains. Why should we charge our memory
with what does not serve 70 nourish TO charm, Or to
Now, when the grief of this publicity weighs too
sadly on my mind, when represent to myself the
pity of some, the smile OF others, the indifference Of
all in turning over these pages which ought to have
remained in the dark like thefs made upon the mod
esty of life or the intimacy Of the family hearth,
| saddle my horse, ascend with gentle pace the
pebby path TO Milly look on the right side and on
the LEFT. on the meadows and on the vineyards, on
the peasants who salute me at distance with af-
fectionate nod of the head; go and seat myself in
the autumn sun, In the most retired corner of the
garden from whence the paternnl roof the vines the
| orchard, are best seen. contemplate with mos.
mense Ivy, planted by my mother, rounds and gives
veriure to the angles, like natural butresses rising
from the earth 10 prevent our old walls from crumb
ling before mel listen to the sound of the vnedres-
ser spade moving the earth on the hill which have
keptfor them see rising from their lava roofs the
smoke OF the vine branches with which the women
light their hearths and which reminds them Of the
fields look at the shadows of the lindens increas-
ing with evening and slowly lengthening towards
me- like phantoms coming to kiss my feet In bene.
diction I say the world b!ames me, my friends do
not understand me; It Is well, have no right to
complain. But this garden this empty house, these
vines these trees, these old men, these children thank
me for having borne little shame in order TO pre-
serve them untouched or happy about me TIL my last
evening. Ali well, we will accept this penalty fol
their sakes. will relate it again to my ather to my
mother, TO the shades Of my sisters when shall meet
them again in the house Of the Eternal Father and
they will moi accuse me, they-they will pity me- and
bless me perhaps for what have done.p
Initiate them, then, my old friend, and If you can
not approve me, at least excuse me- thinking of the
walls and trees where you grew up in the atmosphere
of your first years. all envelt ped they are with the
memory Of your fathers.
A. DE LAMARTINE.
| Saint Point, Dec. 25, 1877.
The reader will see from the date Of the letter. tina
II was written before the late revolution in France
and, of course before Lamartne became as widely
known as he Is now.