168 MEMOIR OF AUGUSTE BRAVAIS. 



Madame Bravais was convinced that labor would be a salutary diver- 

 sion for her husband, while at the same time she dreaded excessive 

 fatigue. Tenderness came to her aid and promi^ted her to resort to a 

 plan to a\'oid this evil. It was a charming and at the same time heart- 

 rending sight to see her as early as four o'clock in the morning assisting at 

 his table; forgetting her own griefs, by turns endeavoring to moderate 

 his ardor, and to raise his waning courage. But the evil continually in- 

 creased, the work no longer amounted to anything; memory was at 

 fault; he could no longer recover the ingenious ideas which he had pre- 

 viously remembered without committing them to paper. He vrished to put 

 the last touches to a large memoir upon mirage, which would have com- 

 pleted his labors on meteorological optics, and which, with his usual 

 modesty, he pronounced the most imperfect of his works. He corrected 

 it; he curtailed it; he spoiled it, and, alas, finally made the sad discovery 

 that it was impossible for him to comi)lete it. The darkness of the night 

 seemed to shroud the intellect hitherto so active and brilliant; he left 

 the Polytechnic School for ever, and we ceased to see him among us. 



A well-lcnown disease developed itself, accompanied with fever and 

 great suffering. He was sustained in this trying period by deep re- 

 ligious sentiments, the unalterable sweetness of his character manifest- 

 ing itself in a wonderfnl resignation. 



Madame Bravais went with him to Versailles. She obtained quarters 

 at the entrance of the park, and later near the Bois de Vaucressou and 

 of Lamarche, changing her residence as often as was needful, in order 

 to obtain new and picturesque situations. This at first seemed to please 

 him, but at length ceased to produce any effect. He still took quite long 

 walks Vv'ith his friends, who remained faithful to him in his misfortunes, 

 particularly with Doctor Berigny, collaborator in the Anmiaire Meteo- 

 rologiqne, whose unceasing devotion continued to the end. He retained 

 his strength, and preserved all the sweetness and kind expression of his 

 countenance, l)ut his memory was gone beyond recall. He recognized 

 neither objects nor individuals, perhaps even did not always know dis- 

 tinctly the one who became to him a tender mother, consecrating her life 

 to relieving his sufferings, and administering to his wants. 



Some glimpse of light occasionally pierced through this cruel night, 

 and gave rise to hopes which unfortunately were destined soon to vanish. 

 One day he saw, on entering his chamber, his uniform as a marine 

 officer, hanging over a chair; his face brightened, and a tear escaped 

 from his eye. Another day he smiled on receiving a bouquet of wild 

 flowers, whi(!h his sister had gathered for him and laid upon his knee. 

 This was the last smile of our fellow-member; he passed away on the 

 30th of I^Iarch, 1863. 



Madame Bravais only left her pillow to pray near his coffin. The 

 tomb alone se]iarated her from one to whom for seven years she had 

 been as a guardian angel. Having lost all whom she loved on earth, 

 her only son aiul her husband, she felt as though there was no longer 

 a place for her in the world. She embraced a religious life in a convent 

 belonging to one of the most austere orders, where happily vshe has found 

 consolation in her devotion and in the assurance which has been given 

 her that the threads which were broken upon earth will be united in 

 Heaven. 



Gentlemen, may the honor which you bestow to-day on the remem- 

 brance of a dearly beloved husband penetrate into this asylum of grief, 

 and become a balm for a wound which even time will not have power 

 to heal. The voice of the heart is heard under these sacred vaults, 

 where the voice of the world may not penetrate. 



