Nell[_5_]
November 7th 07, 05:24 AM
In the generosity and kindliness of her heart, she forgave them all;
and, instead of nursing a feeling of bitterness, she pitied them! She
had done with the outer world! Arenenberg was now her world--Arenenberg,
in which her last and only happiness, her son, the heir of the imperial
name, lived with her--Arenenberg, which was as a temple of memory, in
which Hortense was the pious and believing priestess.
At Arenenberg Hortense wrote the sad and touching story of her journey
through Italy, France, and England, which she undertook, in the heroism
of maternal love, in order to rescue her son. The noblest womanhood, the
most cultivated mind, the proudest and purest soul, speaks from out this
book, with which Hortense has erected a monument to herself that is more
imperishable than all the monuments of stone and bronze, for this
monument speaks to the heart--those to the eyes only. Hortense wrote
this book with her heart often interrupted by the tears that dimmed her
eyes; she concludes it with a touching appeal to the French people,
which it may well be permitted us to repeat here; it is as follows:
"The renewal of the law of exile, and the assimilation made between us
and the Bourbons, testify to the sentiments and fears that are
entertained respecting us. No friendly voice has been raised in our
behalf;
and, instead of nursing a feeling of bitterness, she pitied them! She
had done with the outer world! Arenenberg was now her world--Arenenberg,
in which her last and only happiness, her son, the heir of the imperial
name, lived with her--Arenenberg, which was as a temple of memory, in
which Hortense was the pious and believing priestess.
At Arenenberg Hortense wrote the sad and touching story of her journey
through Italy, France, and England, which she undertook, in the heroism
of maternal love, in order to rescue her son. The noblest womanhood, the
most cultivated mind, the proudest and purest soul, speaks from out this
book, with which Hortense has erected a monument to herself that is more
imperishable than all the monuments of stone and bronze, for this
monument speaks to the heart--those to the eyes only. Hortense wrote
this book with her heart often interrupted by the tears that dimmed her
eyes; she concludes it with a touching appeal to the French people,
which it may well be permitted us to repeat here; it is as follows:
"The renewal of the law of exile, and the assimilation made between us
and the Bourbons, testify to the sentiments and fears that are
entertained respecting us. No friendly voice has been raised in our
behalf;