"As much as lieth in
you, be at peace with all men." On the bed of death the soul should have
no eyes but for eternal things. All the littlenesses of life disappear.
The fight is over. There should be nothing left now but remembrance of
past blessings--adoration of the ways of God. Our natural instinct leads
us back to Christian humility and pity. "Father, forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against us."
Prepare thyself as though the coming Easter were thy last, for thy days
henceforward shall be few and evil.
February 11, 1880.--Victor de Laprade [Footnote: Victor de Laprade, born
1812, first a disciple and imitator of Edgar Quinet, then the friend of
Lamartine, Lamennais, George Sand, Victor Hugo; admitted to the Academy
in 1857 in succession to Alfred de Musset. He wrote "Parfums de
Madeleine," 1839; "Odes et Poemes," 1843; "Poemes Evangeliques," 1852;
"Idylles Heroiques," 1858, etc. etc.] has elevation, grandeur, nobility,
and harmony. What is it, then, that he lacks? Ease, and perhaps humor.
Hence the monotonous solemnity, the excess of emphasis, the
over-intensity, the inspired air, the statue-like gait, which annoy one
in him. His is a muse which never lays aside the _cothurnus_, and a
royalty which never puts off its crown, even in sleep.
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