174 MEMOIR OF GEOFFEOY SAINT HILAIRE. 



safety at St. rirmin to effect the deliverance of his former teachers, 

 and in 1793 he sheltered under his roof the unfortunate Roucher, 

 author of the poem of "The Months." Again, in 1830, the same 

 roof became the asylum of de Quelen, archbishop of Paris, a fugitive 

 at the time from popular menace and pursuit. To a friend who pointed 

 out to him the danger which he incurred by this new act of generosity, 

 he replied, "Bear with me this one time more ; you know I am an 

 old oiiender in this way." 



He allowed himself no relaxation from his labors, except in the 

 tender intercourse of his family. To this no one could surrender 

 himself with more perfect abandonment and relish. He had the 

 satisfaction of early recognizing in his son a noble intelligence, to 

 which he might securely confide the care of his fame and the main- 

 tenance of his doctrines. "Judge," said he, one day to a friend, 

 " whether I ought not to be happy. Behold here the most cherished 

 treasures of my son ;" and so saying he opened a closet in which the 

 young boy had religiously collected every thing which had been 

 written concerning his father's labors. 



Voltaire, in a celebrated verse, had boldly proclaimed of himself — 

 " Yes, I love glory, and I dare avow it." 



"With an equal love of celebrity Geoffroy was as little disposed to 

 dissemble it. Perhaps no one ever aspired to renown more frankly 

 and openly, and it has been given to few solely devoted to the sci- 

 ences to obtain a greater share of it. His views, his principles, even 

 his language, have penetrated everywhere, and left everywhere the 

 impress of his influence. All the celebrated academies numbered 

 him among their members. Learned strangers made the pilgrimage 

 of Paris with the sole purpose of seeing him. Our own provinces 

 and the neighboring nations, especially Germany, that home of 

 Goethe, that country of the Okens, the Caruses, and the Spixes, sent 

 every year a throng of young neophytes who desired to hear and to 

 know this chief of a great school. 



In a retired corner of the museum is a little hermitage where 

 Daubenton, a half century before, had installed Geoffroy. It was in 

 this domicile, endeared to him by so many recollections, that the latter, 

 when advanced in years, saw himself surrounded by disciples who 

 ascribed to him the same infallibility which he himself accorded to 

 the sciences, and in this regard his belief well entitled him to be the 

 head of a school of believers. Towards the close of his life he was 

 affected with total blindness, but this was attended with many alle- 

 viations. His latter days were soothed by the caresses of two young 

 children, for whom he fondly anticipated a career like his own, and 

 the pious cares of a daughter, in whom his own qualities were mir- 

 rored, surrounded him with tender assiduities. The noble companion 

 of his life survived to press his faltering hands, the mother of a son 

 who was the solace and glory of his old age. 



• Geoffroy expired tranquilly June 19, 1844. This bold investigator 

 of nature, who had cast upon her mysteries so penetrating a glance, 

 in receiving the last farewell of a beloved child, said to her with 

 calmness : "Be assured, my daughter, we shall meet again 1" 



