[This was M. de Tocqueville's last letter to Mr. Senior. He died on the
16th of April.--ED.]
Hotel Westminster, Rue de la Paix, April 25, 1859.
My dear Madame de Tocqueville,--I was in the country, and it was only
last Friday, as I was passing through London on my way to Paris, that I
heard of the irreparable loss that we, indeed that France and Europe,
have suffered.
It cannot alleviate your distress to be told how universal and deep is
the sympathy with it--quite as much in England as in France.
It has thrown a gloom over society, not only over that portion which had
the happiness and the honour of intimacy with M.A. de Tocqueville, but
even of his acquaintances, and of those too whose acquaintance was only
with his works.
I have, as you know, been for about a year, the depositary of a large
packet confided to me by M. de Tocqueville last spring. About six months
ago he begged me to return it to him, in Paris, when I had a safe
opportunity. No such opportunity offered itself, so that the packet
remains in my library awaiting your orders.
Since I began this letter I have been informed by M. de Corcelle that you
are likely to be soon in Paris. I shall not venture to send it by the
post, lest it should cross you on the road.
I shall anxiously inquire as to your arrival, in the hope that you will
allow one who most sincerely loved and admired your husband, morally and
intellectually, to see you as soon as you feel yourself equal to it.
Believe me, my dear Madame de Tocqueville, with the truest sympathy,
yours most truly,