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[133] famous, the effect her situation produced on me, she said: ‘Il ne faut pas me juger de ce que vous voyez ici. Ce n'est pas moi,—ce n'est que l'ombre de ce que j'etais il y a quatre mois,—et une ombre qui peut-être disparaitra bientot.’ I told her that M. Portal and her other physicians did not think so. ‘Oui,’ said she, while her eye kindled in the consciousness that she was about to say one of those brilliant things with which she had so often electrified a drawing-room,—‘oui, je le sais, mais ils y mettent toujours tant de vanite d'auteur, que je ne m'y fie pas du tout. Je ne me releveraijamais de cette maladie. J'en suis sure.’ She saw at this moment that the Duchess de Broglie had entered the apartment, and was so much affected by the last remark, that she had gone to the window to hide her feelings. She therefore began to talk about America. Everything she said was marked with that imagination which gives such a peculiar energy to her works, and which has made her so long the idol of French society; but whenever she seemed to be aware that she was about to utter any phrase of force and aptness, her languid features were kindled with an animation which made a strange contrast with her feeble condition. Especially when she said of America,—‘vous êtes l'avant garde du genre humain, vous êtes l'avenir du monde,’— there came a slight tinge of feeling into her face, which spoke plainly enough of the pride of genius. As I feared to weary her with conversation, I asked her daughter if I should not go; but she said she was glad to see her mother interested, and wished rather that I should stay. I remained therefore half an hour longer,—until dinner was announced,—during which we talked chiefly of the prospects of Europe, of which she despairs.

When I rose to go she gave me her hand, and said, under the impression I was soon going to America, ‘Vous serez bientot chez vous, —et moi j'y vais aussi.’ I pretended not to understand her, and told her I was sure I should see her in Switzerland, much better. She looked on her daughter, while her eyes filled with tears, and said in English, ‘God grant me that favor,’ and I left her.

The impression of this scene remained upon us all during the dinner; but in the evening old M. St. Leon and Mm. Lacretelle and Villemain (the latter I find to be one of the most eloquent professors in Paris) came in, and gave a gayer air to the party and conversation.

May 13.—I passed this evening with Say, the author of the book on political economy, which is now considered one of the best, or the very best extant, as it is the full development of Adam Smith's system, with an explanation in the notes of the systems of the Economists.

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