part of his life: her influence on him is
visible through the whole of it. The union of the illustrious
brothers Humboldt with their mother was especially full and tender.
While she lived, they shared souls; and, after her departure, the
sons idolized her memory. Long years had passed, when William,
expiring in the arms of his elder brother, said, "I shall soon be
with our mother." And Alexander said, "I did not think my old eyes
had so many tears." The relation of Guizot, the distinguished French
statesman and author, with his mother, was one of the deepest,
fullest, and noblest friendships that ever conjoined mother and son.
Madame Guizot went through the horror and tragedy of the Revolution,
to which her husband was one of the choicest victims, with a heroism
and a dignity unsurpassed; and devoted herself to her maternal duties
with a calm energy and wisdom whose proper fruits she lived long to
enjoy. Her character revealed the purest feminine qualities in
conspicuous perfection. Her honored old age showed all that is lovely
and all that is august united, in her history, her spirit, her
manners, her acquirements, and her presence, to attract confidence
and to command respect. Indissolubly joined, through more than sixty
years, with her brilliant and high-souled son, she was not more proud
and fond of him than he was of her.

FRIENDSHIPS OF DAUGHTERS AND FATHERS.

CICERO and his daughter, Tullia, enjoyed an extraordinary friendship.
From all the hints left us, it is to be gathered that Tullia was a
woman of sweet and noble character. It is certain that she was most
affectionately devoted to her father; and that she had
accomplishments of knowledge and taste, qualifying her to be his
companion and his delight in his age and grief. It is affecting to
read how eagerly, on his recall from exile, she hurried to Brundusium
to throw herself into his arms. She died at about thirty-two. He was
thrown into a state of lamentable prostration. Turn where he would in
his inconsolable sorrow, engage in whatever he might, tears
constantly overtook him. His friends, Atticus, Csar, Brutus,
Sulpicius, and others, wrote letters of sympathy to him. He retired
to one of country-seats. Seeking the solace of solitude, he buried
himself every morning in the thickest of the wood, and came not out
till evening. In his former reverses, he says he could turn to one
place for shelter and peace. "A daughter I had, in whose sweet
conversation I c