New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1869-11-05

the walls of Paris though it is well enough known
here Prince Napoleon had been looked for, but ne
did not come sending only note of hearty regret aV
his enforced absence, and the Princess Mathide'
warm friend of SainteBeuve. could not come either
as she is playing Empress at COmpeigne The crowd
however did not diminish as the house was leit' DuV
lined the whole street. overlooking the narrow sue
walks, and coming close up TO our carriage WihuC"'
Where the little rue Mont Parnasse deboucheS ln'o
the ample Boulevards, first, Boulevard MONT a.,
nasse then. Boulevard D'Enfer. the crowd was SIN
oft endanr and il increased rather than diminished
until when the procession filed into the cemetery
there mnst have been at least 1900 people standlug'
for the most part bareheaded, about the grave III
was certaiplv an impressive sight but 1elt the
want Of the, spoken word. /, for one, was nearby
Glad 10 be rid of the priests; but where was Vne
voice Of the friend felt 1t haTd That mere III
Paris man of the life and purposes OF SalnteBeuVe'
n Iifs devoted 10 high ideal life of duty, OF renun-
citation of heroism. noble and worthy Ite' shoulu
miss at this supreme moment OF falling as SEED INTO
IN q minds of this multitude. II only that example
couId have been presented to this multitude. ii only
that lesson could have been read Prayers couid
have been dispensed with. What are called
the consultations of religion might have been
SHARED the lesson of his life without
moral-drawn OF doctrine enforced, would have been
holy seed and might have fallen into many fresh,
Youthful heart But he had willed it otherwise, and
the great crowd stood under the dull blank sky,
under the whitening trees, and with uncovered
heads. in a silence broken by no whisper, waited
until the last rite had been performed. The tomb
was covered with plain OblOng stone bearing,
simply the name of the mother OF Salnte-BeuVe,
Augustine COiliot, veuve Sainte-Beuve" and the
date of her death, 18th November, 1890 To remove
this stone stonemasOn and his boy apprentice, in
their blue trowsers and white blouses, dusty from
their work. ply leisurely and rudey their levers, and
at last by dint of clumsy ilapplied strength raise
il up The coffin is lowered the stone replaced, and
the friend and executor of the deceased NJ Lacaus-
SADIE holding large wreath of violets in
his hand. his face streaming with tears, and
his voice low and broken, pronounces these
words. written down by Sainte-Beuve
himself. to be used on this occasion: Adieu.
Sal -Beuve; adieu our friend; adieu" And turning
to the crowd: Gentlemen, who have accompanied
him hither. thank you in his name. Gentlemen,
the ceremony is finished" This was ALL and in
silence as they had come, the immense multitude
slowly went away.
returned with Mr. Reid to the house, and found
the crowd about it hardly diminished. Within,
visitors and friends were wandering from room to
room. after having written their names on loose
sheets of paper placed for that purpose in small
room, as though sort of hall of entry access
was had TO the dnng-room and drawing-ToOm and
by them to the garden. We all of us like to know
something of the surroundings of famous men, and
why, since 1 have seen it, should 1 not de-
scribe the interior of Sainte-Beuve's house
1t is not arranged as is usual almost
universal in Paris. In the first place there is no
court and it is only in the very poorest streets and
among the very poorest of the poor people that
houses are to be found opening directly from the
street To an American the house has slngularly
homelike and familiar look. Lest should be called
to account by some other observer let me say that
there is at the side of the house and fronting what
suppose to be the kitchen and offices which extend
from the rear line of the house like an L. a good
sized yard separated from the street by high iron
railing but il is still true that the outside OF the
house proper is, for all the world, like small New
York house of two stories anda-halt such an one as
Is seldom seen IN Paris. opening tne uOOTi we
find ourselves in a very small entry, for hall" would
be too fine q word with narrow staircase
against the opposite wall and door at the
left leading into the room where all the world
is writing its name, as have described by way OF
respect to the friends The room into which this
opens was perhaps, the dining-roOm; il gives, in
its turn into the pretty drawlngroon, with IT'S deco
ration, common in Paris, OF white and gold. and
from both these rooms the long windows permit us
TO pass ntOhe pretty garden 1t is not so formal as
most of these city gardens are but though small,
looks as if its owner had endeavored to give IT the
air of bit of country ground. and here in fact
Sainte Beuve took pleasure in strOlliDg about, play
ing with his pet animals, of which he was very fond
Here was his handsome family of cats, three splen-
magnificent fur. and whom he called respectively La
Glorieuse and La JOlie. Here, too his two rabbits
hoped cOntentedly about, living IN harmony with
the cats and at times permitted to share their
games while his pigeons summed themselves along
the garden-wall, flew In and out of his
study window 10 pick up the crumbs with which he
was in the habit of feeding them on his table The
morning after his death they came usual but the
gentle hand that had fed them daily lay passive
upon the bed hard by and could feed them no more.
Another hand gave them their crumbs on the accus-
toned table Did the birds see that the hand was
their masters These little traits show the kind
heart the tender feeling that often reveals itself
in his wTtingS-in the spirit that dictates Judg-
ment in the turn of a phrase, in the praise which
envelops severe criticism and almost cures the
wound. And if the testimony OF his friends may be
receIved-and how many friends he had!-th tascl-
nation for which he was 50 famous was not mere
brilliant charm of manner it was the radiance that
streamed out from heart as warm as his intel
lect was splendid He loved justice he wOTshlpped
truth: this evident in all he said and in all he
wrote the conviction that these qualities were in
herent in HIM took away the sting from his Tebuke.
and made his praise more worth than gold. But all
was one his love for his garden pets, his affection
pleasure hetOOk IN the companOnshlpo OF the young,
the delight he had IN laborng to reestablish for
gotten name, 20 revive persisted reputation, all was
spirit, and as it began with his earliest youth,
so it never left him till his dying day.
Nothing could well be palmer than the way in
which the little house is furnished. Sainte-BeuYe
was never married, and all the world knows he was
not rich. The only luxury in which he INDUCED
himself in the purchase OF rare books, and con
sideTinR the use he made of them this could hardly
be termed a luxury. Thus his house wanted, it, in
deed it were a want the air that is given by
the multitude of things with which in our time, and
il is almost popularity of our time, our rooms are
encountered and IL wanted also that charm which is
given the humblest dwelling by the constant touch
of a wOmans hand adjusting repairing, adorulng
One more room visited and truth 10 say had no
intention of visiting it, for felt and feel that it was
an intrusion though was of course not unbidden.
and though of course was not alone But thought
only that was TO be allowed TO see the room in
which the master had worked, and was glad of the
opportunity before knew it stood in the room
where he worked daily, and where only few hours