al hour of his life.

When he surveyed himself from head to foot in the mental mirror before
him, he was content! He was truly that which he wished to be. The
programme of his life, as he had laid it down, was faithfully carried
out.

By a powerful effort of his mighty will, he succeeded in himself
adopting, rather than disdaining in others, all those animal instincts
that govern the vulgar. These he believed fetters which bound the
feeble, but which the strong could use. He applied himself ceaselessly
to the development and perfection of his rare physical and intellectual
gifts, only that he might, during the short passage from the cradle
to the tomb, extract from them the greatest amount of pleasure. Fully
convinced that a thorough knowledge of the world, delicacy of taste and
elegance, refinement and the point of honor constituted a sort of moral
whole which formed the true gentleman, he strove to adorn his
person with the graver as well as the lighter graces. He was like a
conscientious artist, who would leave no smallest detail incomplete.
The result of his labor was so satisfactory, that M. de Camors, at the
moment we rejoin him, was not perhaps one of the best men in the world,
but he was beyond doubt one of the happiest and most amiable. Like all
men who have determined to cultivate ability rather than scrupulousness,
he saw all things developing to his satisfaction. Confident of his
future, he discounted it boldly, and lived as if very opulent. His rapid
elevation was explained by his unfailing audacity, by his cool judgment
and neat finesse, by his great connection and by his moral independence.
He had a hard theory, which he continually expounded with all imaginable
grace: "Humanity," he would say, "is composed of speculators!"

Thoroughly imbued with this axiom, he had taken his degree in the grand
lodge of financiers. There he at once made himself an authority by his
manner and address; and he knew well how to use his name, his political
influence, and his reputation for integrity. Employing all these, yet
never compromising one of them, he influenced men by their virtues, or
their vices, with equal indifference. He was incapable of meanness; he
never wilfully entrapped a friend, or even an enemy, into a disastrous
speculation; only, if the venture proved unsuccessful, he happened to
get out and leave the others in it. But in financial speculations, as in
battles, there must be what is called "food for po