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THE LATE W. H. HUNTINGTON.

From Galignant's Messenger, Paris, Oct. 6.

Funeral services over the remains of Mr. William H. Huntington were held in the American Chapel, Rue de Berri, yesterday afternoon. The casket was placed in front of the altar and was covered with beautiful flowers sent by Mr. George A. Lucas, one of Mr. Huntington's oldest Paris friends; Mr. Henry James, Mr. John Munroe, Mr. Sichel, Mr. Edward King, Mrs. R. Ogden Doremus and others. Wreaths and crosses were also placed on the coffin in behalf of Mr. Theodore Child, absent from Paris, Mr. W. T and Mr. Harry Walters, of Baltimore, Dr. Fordyce Barker and Mr. S. P. Avery, of New-York. The Episcopal service for the dead was read by the Rev. Dr. Mackay, and the choir sang, "Sleep thy last Sleep," "O Paradise," "Blessed are they who die in the Lord," and "Abide with Me." Among those present were the United States Minister, Mr. MacLane; Secretary Vignaud, Consul-General Walker, Mr. George A. Lucas, Mr. Henry James, Mr. John Munroe, Colonel MacKaye, Mr. Henry Bacon, Mr. D. R. Knight, Mr. Walter Gay, Mr. W. B. Baird and many other friends of Mr. Huntington whose names escape us. After the ceremony the body was placed in the mortuary chapel, where it will remain until it is sent to Norwich.

The disappearance of so well-known a member of the American colony as Mr. Huntington merits a longer notice than we were able to give on the morning following his death. Mr. Huntington was, as we have already stated, born at Norwich, Conn., in August, 1820. After graduating from the Harvard Law School he came to Paris in 1851, and, like so many of his countrymen, when once here he decided to make it his home. When Mr. Henry J. Raymond started The New-York Times, he selected Mr. Huntington as his first Paris correspondent, but as soon as Mr. Charles A. Dana became the managing editor of THE TRIBUNE, Mr. Huntington transferred his labors to Mr. Greeley's paper, as he was an intimate friend of Mr. Dana. In those days there were no Atlantic cables and boats like the Etruria and Alaska were unknown. Parisian newspaper letters were, therefore, a greater novelty than they are to-day. Correspondents were not obliged to serve up undigested facts hot for the telegraphic operator, but had time to think out their subjects and to express themselves in good language. A man of broad culture, delicate taste, excellent judgment and liberal sympathies, Mr. Huntington was well qualified to instruct his countrymen on the various phases of French political and social life, and it is no disparagement to the other correspondents who were his contemporaries to say that no better letters were sent to the American press than those written by Mr. Huntington for THE NEW-YORK TRIBUNE. Since 1876 Mr. Huntington had ceased to write, and had devoted his leisure to making a collection of engravings, portraits, busts, books, in fact everything concerning Washington, Franklin and Lafayette. Two years ago, when he was first attacked with the illness that finally caused his death, Mr. Huntington sent this collection to the Metropolitan Museum, at New-York, where it is now on exhibition.

To speak of Mr. Huntington in private life is simply to say that he was a gentleman in every sense of the word. His long residence abroad and his great love for France had in nowise lessened his American sentiment. To show the esteem in which he was held by his countrymen, we need only say that his modest bachelor's apartment in the Rue La Bruyere has been visited by nearly all the prominent men who have come abroad during the last thirty years, beginning with Mr. Sumner and ending with General Grant. Among Frenchmen, Mr. Huntington was very well known and respected, as the eulogies which have appeared in the Parisian press since his death amply show. Charitable as far as his modest means would permit, as unostentatious in his good deeds as in his daily appearance, Mr. Huntington has calmly passed away, leaving behind the example of a well-spent life and the souvenir of a most charming gentleman.
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Mrs. Cantine called to say she and her husband would come and see us this evening, but later sent a note saying  he had an engagement. She invited us to a dancing party at her her home but I declined. She was very frank and very indiscreet in her comments on her prospective guests, but she speaks impulsively and without bitterness. She seems to think society here not very stimulating.- We sat in the sitting room and found it very cosy and homelike. We both of us thought and talked of an our dear Mother as we put down the carpet today. We remembered how she and Sara went to N.Y. and bought it and all the interest she felt in putting it down and getting the room ready. Dear Mother. It will be two years Monday since she closed her eyes on all her interests which were our interests, and left us to sadly feel how changed is this lonely house without her loving and directing presence. - Poor Mabel Reed made us a long call yesterday. She was staying at Mrs. Jansen Andersons for a day or two. What an experience the poor child has had and how full of sympathy and interest we both feel for her. She has grown into a very pretty and interesting woman. I wrote to Wilmart today about trying to get one of my Milwaukee pictures "Changing Skies" into the Fall Academy Exhibition.

Saturday Nov. 1" 1885
It was very cold last night but milder today cloudy and grey and tonight it is raining. I wrote a long letter to Mary and also to Lucy, to Booth speaking of his mothers death a note to Lambdin, one to Fuller sending him my check for ten dollar, his repayment on the frame of his picture, a note to Dr Rosa for him to give me an appointment and sent the subscription to the Christian Leader to Mar. 15" 1886 and telling them how my father has taken the paper ever since it first started as the Christian Messenger. Am reading "Middlemarch" again and am struck afresh with the masterly drawing of Lydgates character and the deadening effect which debt exerts over a high minded man. Many things in his career appealed to me with startling force and made me shudder at what a man may be driven to by the lack of money. Poor little Charley Mayer the telegraph messenger who disappeared in the storm of last Thursday night was found drowned up the creek. He was a bright, manly little fellow and his sad death that wild night is most melancholy. Girard in whose office he was for a time was much attached to him and has written some remarks about him for Mr. Fuller who is to preach his funeral service tomorrow Our poor girl Sarah seems hopelessly homesick and yet the poor woman has no home to grieve for. Sarah and I have great pity

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