He would have
nothing to do with any one except God only--or rather the mysterious
Isis beyond the veil. Being unmarried, he died in the arms of his
secretary. He was sixty-five years old. His power of work and of memory
was immense and intact. What is Scherer thinking about this life and
this death?
October 19, 1869.--An admirable article by Edmond Scherer on
Sainte-Beuve in the _Temps_. He makes him the prince of French critics
and the last representative of the epoch of literary taste, the future
belonging to the bookmakers and the chatterers, to mediocrity and to
violence. The article breathes a certain manly melancholy, befitting a
funeral oration over one who was a master in the things of the mind. The
fact is, that Sainte-Beuve leaves a greater void behind him than either
Beranger or Lamartine; their greatness was already distant, historical;
he was still helping us to think. The true critic acts as a fulcrum for
all the world. He represents the public judgment, that is to say the
public reason, the touchstone, the scales, the refining rod, which tests
the value of every one and the merit of every work. Infallibility of
judgment is perhaps rarer than anything else, so fine a balance of
qualities does it demand--qualities both natural and acquired, qualities
of mind and heart.
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