ing great and good must
have been in this man, something loving and kindly, that has kept his
name so cherished in the popular memory, and gained him such lasting
reverence and affection.

But, Madam, one may respect the dead without feeling awe-stricken at the
plumes of the hearse; and I see no reason why one should sympathize with
the train of mutes and undertakers, however deep may be their mourning.
Look, I pray you, at the manner in which the French nation has performed
Napoleon's funeral. Time out of mind, nations have raised, in memory
of their heroes, august mausoleums, grand pyramids, splendid statues of
gold or marble, sacrificing whatever they had that was most costly and
rare, or that was most beautiful in art, as tokens of their respect and
love for the dead person. What a fine example of this sort of
sacrifice is that (recorded in a book of which Simplicity is the great
characteristic) of the poor woman who brought her pot of precious
ointment--her all, and laid it at the feet of the Object which, upon
earth, she most loved and respected. "Economists and calculators" there
were even in those days who quarrelled with the manner in which the poor
woman lavished so much "capital;" but you will remember how nobly and
generously the sacrifice was appreciated, and how the economists were
put to shame.

With regard to the funeral ceremony that has just been performed here,
it is said that a famous public personage and statesman, Monsieur Thiers
indeed, spoke with the bitterest indignation of the general style of the
preparations, and of their mean and tawdry character. He would have
had a pomp as magnificent, he said, as that of Rome at the triumph of
Aurelian: he would have decorated the bridges and avenues through which
the procession was to pass, with the costliest marbles and the finest
works of art, and have had them to remain there for ever as monuments of
the great funeral.

The economists and calculators might here interpose with a great deal of
reason; for, indeed, there was no reason why a nation should impoverish
itself to do honor to the memory of an individual for whom, after
all, it can feel but a qualified enthusiasm: but it surely might have
employed the large sum voted for the purpose more wisely and generously,
and recorded its respect for Napoleon by some worthy and lasting
memorial, rather than have erected yonder thousand vain heaps of tinsel,
paint, and plaster, that are already cracking