Es, and he says to her, weeping, "Ah, my wife, our dear child is dead,
since they do not wish me to see him." And the narrator adds with
admiration; "I always seem to see a good farmer and his excellent wife a
prey to the deepest despair at the loss of their beloved child." Tears
are no longer concealed, as it is a point of honor to be a human being.
One becomes human and familiar with one's inferiors. A prince, on a
review, says to the soldiers on presenting the princess to them, "My
boys, here is my wife." There is a disposition to make people happy and
to take great delight in their gratitude. To be kind, to be loved is the
object of the head of a government, of a man in place. This goes so far
that God is prefigured according to this model. The "harmonies of
nature" are construed into the delicate attentions of Providence; on
instituting filial affection the Creator "deigned to choose for our best
virtue our sweetest pleasure."[2318]--The idyll which is imagined to
take place in heaven corresponds with the idyll practiced on earth. From
the public up to the princes, and from the princes down to the public,
in prose, in verse, in compliments at festivities, in official replies,
in the style of royal edicts down to the songs of the market-women,
there is a constant interchange of graces and of sympathies. Applause
bursts out in the theater at any verse containing an allusion to
princes, and, a moment after, at the speech which exalts the merits of
the people, the princes return the compliment by applauding in their
turn.[2319]--On all sides, just as this society is vanishing, a mutual
deference, a spirit of kindliness arises, like a soft and balmy autumnal
breeze, to dissipate whatever harshness remains of its aridity and to
mingle with the radiance of its last hours the perfume of dying roses.
We now encou
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