Washington sentinel. [volume] (City of Washington [D.C.]) 1853-1856, 1855-09-06

ton and sympathy of the Democratic party, we
cannot understand. The ninth resolution in the
above series is eyasive, sneaking, and contradic-
tory. II means everything and nothing. II is in
tended TO cheat the South, and please the North.
II lays upon the Missouri settlers in Kansas all the
blame for the condition of things that exists there.
1t has not one word of reproach, rebuke, or ad-
monltlon for the emssaries of the Emgrant Aid
Society. II declares "fixed hostility to the ex-
tension Of slavery into free territory" and yet
asseyerates that the Sofs "wi faithfully adhere
to all the compromises Of the Constitution and
maintain all the rights of the States. y
Such chicanery is unworthy of sensible men.
1t deceives nobody, but disgusts everybody. The
creed OF the Softs may better suit the latitude of
New York than that of their rivals, the Hards,
but 1t will win them small favor beyond the linn
It's OF that State. We had some hopes Of seeing
the Softs, not as band or faction but as indi-
vidual Democrats, coming over to the Hard plat
form and ticket, Those hopes have been disap.
pointed. The fanatcal spirit that prevailed in
their late convention, even more than their reso-
lutions and candidates. shows that these two divi-
sions of the New York Democracy are as wide
asunder as ever they were
Lamartine's Last visit 10 Count D,Orsay.
Nj. de Lamartine has written in one of the news
papers a biographical and obituary notice of the
late Duke de Grammont. In it there is an inter-
estiDg alusion to the late celebrated Count Or
say, which correspondent of the Boston Atlas
thus translates:
in val fam ly
sion for the brother of the Duchess de Grammont,
ravished few months before the noon of life
from the tender friendship of his sister. The
world has not known all it lost in the Count Or
say, brother-in-law of the Duke de Grammont
lie was known only by his hereditary beauty, by
his adventures, by his talents, by his light celebri
ties, which would have been excused in another,
and which possessed eciai only because he himsel II
was born brilliant.
"Wo to those who shine! the faults share the
splendor OF their nature. NJ de Chateaubriahd
who has spoken OF the Count d'Orsay in his me-
moirs, has been bitter when he should have been
charitable for the impulsveness of youth and pas
sion. Dante himself does not speak with that
harshness of the fate of love; when Francesa da
Rimina has spoken, Dante does not condemn, he
does not excuse, he does not absolve; he is melt
ed, he pites, he weeps Naught but tear should
have been given to that youth of 'Orsay He
quilted that youth man, and the man gave pro-
natural qualities less esteemed, we know,
than acquired qualities, because they cost no eff
fort; they are certainly less meritorious, but we
do not know that they are less amiable
Mature has always more grace than voltion.
Alfwas nature in Count 'Orsay, and that nature,
for moment bowed by excess of wealth, became
vigorously straight amid the agitatons of misfor-
tunes and Yeas. Yet a little while, and France
would have cherished in him child prodigal of
his genius. Let those who have not known Count
d'Orsay judge him without indulgence and JUS
tce, but let his friends land we were among them)
retrace to themselves in his person, one of the
| richest luxuries of nature. The very faults and
repentance of his youth made, to to say, part Of
| the projections of his manhood They gave to his
| still young physiognomy that melancholy which
| is the increasing shadow of our souvenirs on our
face, as the of our life sets in the West they
| gave TO his mind that intelligent and merciful
| liberation which one can better bestow others,
when one has once felt for himself the pleasure
and the necessity.
when, during his last and only sickness, "a
disease of the heart) visited him in his sculp-
tors studio, in that little museum, changed into
a sick chamber, that he might breathe his last be-
| fore the objects of his love--when lying on that
/ bed OF repose, in the midst of his paintings, his
marbles, his drawings, his unfinished busts, he
| looked like statue Of Antinous, which was un-
coored, without losing line of its beauty in the
| beams OF the sun on the eve of sinking from the
sky-we could not tire of contemplating, with
secret tenderness, the serenity, not to say the
splendor, of that dying man. He lay under no
illusion; he raised illusions to those who loved
him, to spare them premature grief. He would
willingly have concealed his last sigh to steal
away pain from his friends, from that sister
from those nieces who were about to weep him
forever"