An Attic Philosopher in Paris

y, Ju

Juno (Junius, June) by the Roma

ved, as well as those that followed-Sexteles, September, October, November, December-although these designations did not accord with the newly arranged order of the months. At last, after a time the month Quintiles, in which Juli

e that in which the state of Venice used to enroll its illustrious names and its great deeds. It seems that mankind feels a necessity for honoring itself in its elect ones, and that it raises it

world; everyone shares them, for everyone suffers or benefits by his actions. Genius is a lighthouse, m

. When glory has benefited men, that admiration is gratitude; when it is only remarkable in itsel

that their vanity makes them thus to aggrandize one of their own creations, or whether they try to conceal the humiliation of subjection by exaggerating the importance of those who rule them. They wish to honor themselves through their master; they e

d, at least desires to obey a powerful chief. Serfs have been known to consider themselves dishonored when they became the pr

rriages in the Rue Lepelletier. The foot-passengers who were stopped at a crossing recognized the persons in some of thes

as threadbare. He followed with envious looks these possessors of the privileges of power or

enowned, all their wishes fulfilled; they are the sovereigns of the world, either by their intellect or their power; and while I, poor

s and authority really wear life as a crown, while the greater part of mankind receive it as a yoke? Is the difference of rank but a different use

lf, who is the first usher-in-waiting to one of our ministers. I took him some letters f

rived; he will take them this morning to St. Cloud, and in the evening he has invited his friends to a private ball. I

rns. Most of them contained severe criticisms on the last political acts of the

ng, a secretary came for the

ere holding him up to indignation or to scorn! Like the Roman victor in his triumph, he had to endure

be incurable? What is the worth of a life exposed to the attacks of envious hatred or furious conviction? The Christians yielded only the fragment

hastily. Important news had been received: the minister is just summon

s again, while their brother went off to the council. The carriage, which should have gone filled

barometer of the political atmosphere. If he gets leave, all goes well; if he is kept at his post, the country is

im, and he told me several cur

e exigencies of party forbid him to meet them. If their intercourse continued, it would awaken suspicion; people would imagine that some dishonorable bargain was going on; his friends would be held to be traitors desir

m, and talks of the times when they could be open friends. By dint of precautions they have hitherto succeeded in concealing this blot of frien

ven proceeds to crime. The usher assured me that several warnings had been given the minister w

ot but deplore. Misled by passion, over-persuaded by entreaties, or compelled for reputation's sake, he has many times held the balance with an unsteady hand. How sad the

nner went into his own room. An instant afterward his bell was heard; his secretary was called to send off notices to all those invited for the evening; the ball wou

just seen is an answer to my doubts the other day. Now I kno

lls what we bel

on why Charles V. aspired to

itated from the heights of heaven to the very depths of the earth? of that path of pain along which they must forever bear the burden of

ust keep him separated from ordinary humanity; they must surround him with a continual worship, and, by a constant ceremonial, keep up

te, hour by hour, the actions of the king and queen; "so that," says Voltaire, "by reading it one can tell all that the sovereigns of Spain have done, or will do, from Philip II to the day of judgment." It was by this l

dote related by Madame Campan of Marie Antoinette, wife of Louis XVI. One day, being at her toilet, when the chemise was about to be presented to her by one of the assistants, a lady of very ancient family entered and claimed the honor, as she had the right by etiquette; but, at the moment she was about to fulfil her duty, a lady of higher rank appeared, and in her turn took the garment

d man, whose appearance and features reminded me of my father. There was the same beautiful smile, t

ng to myself the conversations of that guide whom God in his merc

our two minds together by an interchange of tho

sed to say that virtue could make herself devoted friends, but she did not take pupils: therefore he was not desiro

g forgotten, all at once put forth the blade and come into ear! It is a treasure laid asid

evenings, there is one which now returns to my memory, doub

-boy, clerk, and laborer, he was made to bear alone all the work of a trade of which his master reaped all the profits. In truth, this latter had a peculiar talent for making the most of the labor of other people. Though unfit himself for the execution of any kind of work, no one knew b

lley of Montmorency, the wood of Meudon, or among the windings of the Marne. Excited by the fresh air, the penetrating perfume of the growing vegetation, or the fragrance of the honeysuckles, he would walk on until hunger or fatigue made itself felt. Then he would sit under a hedge, or by the side of a stream, and would make a rustic feast, by turns on watercresses, wood strawberries, and blackberries picked from the hedge

an honest face; but his eyes, which were rather deep-set under his eyebrows, had a somewhat uneasy and timid expression. He was dressed in a brown cloth coat, a gray waistcoat, black breeches,

t to him as he passed. In doing so, a plant he held fell from h

"I have not yet seen any of them in thes

in abundance on the top of the hill, towar

"Ah! I shall go and look for them; I have gath

e appeared seized with a scruple. He observed to his companion that the road he was going was halfway up the hill, and led in the direction of the castle of the D

the old man refused; it even seemed to my father that his good intention at last excited his suspicion. He there

ossy glade, he read once more the last volume of Emile. The delight of reading it had so completely absorbed him that he had ceased to se

tasy; he raised his head, and perceived the tradesman-look

collection of which seemed to h

er. "I have found all that you told me of, a

ar, and even asked if his young "brother botanist" did not think of returning to Paris.

ht without impertinence ask the name of it. M

immediately

n remaining cold and silent. The former extolled the glory of the great Genevese writer, whose genius had made him a citizen of the world; he expatiated on this privileg

een flattered by success: how many times has it been wounded by satire? And be assured that human pride is like the Sybarite who was prevented from sleeping by a crease in a roseleaf. The activity of a vigorous mind, by which the world profits, almost always turns against him who possesses it. He expects more from it as he grows older; the ideal he pursues continually disgusts him with the actual; he is like a man who, with a too-refined sight, discern

with which his companion pronounced thes

which led from Meudon Castle to that

ld man, uttered an exclamation of surpris

Jacques-there

ge disappeared

onfounded, and amazed, his eyes

red on hearing his name

the idle; but, as soon as a man has had the misfortune to make himself a name, he becomes public property. Every one rakes into his life, relates his most trivial actions, and insults his feelings; he becomes like those walls, which every passer-by may deface with some abusive writing. Perhaps you will say that I have myself encou

sked myself a week ago. Yes, I now feel that fame and power are gifts that are dearly bought; and that,

er to be

h humble live

k'd up in a gl

a golde

I., Act II