sm kept within the bounds
of a reserve but little in keeping with the evident warmth of their
friendships. At these times Lucien discreetly took his leave, a feeling
of curiosity mingling with the sense of something like pain at the
ostracism to which he was subjected by these strangers, who all
addressed each other by their Christian names. Each one of them, like
d'Arthez, bore the stamp of genius upon his forehead.

After some private opposition, overcome by d'Arthez without Lucien's
knowledge, the newcomer was at length judged worthy to make one of the
_cenacle_ of lofty thinkers. Henceforward he was to be one of a little
group of young men who met almost every evening in d'Arthez's room,
united by the keenest sympathies and by the earnestness of their
intellectual life. They all foresaw a great writer in d'Arthez; they
looked upon him as their chief since the loss of one of their number,
a mystical genius, one of the most extraordinary intellects of the age.
This former leader had gone back to his province for reasons on which
it serves no purpose to enter, but Lucien often heard them speak of this
absent friend as "Louis." Several of the group were destined to fall by
the way; but others, like d'Arthez, have since won all the fame that was
their due. A few details as to the circle will readily explain Lucien's
strong feeling of interest and curiosity.

One among those who still survive was Horace Bianchon, then a
house-student at the Hotel-Dieu; later, a shining light at the Ecole de
Paris, and now so well known that it is needless to give any description
of his appearance, genius, or character.

Next came Leon Giraud, that profound philosopher and bold theorist,
turning all systems inside out, criticising, expressing, and
formulating, dragging them all to the feet of his idol--Humanity; great
even in his errors, for his honesty ennobled his mistakes. An intrepid
toiler, a conscientious scholar, he became the acknowledged head of a
school of moralists and politicians. Time alone can pronounce upon the
merits of his theories; but if his convictions have drawn him into paths
in which none of his old comrades tread, none the less he is still their
faithful friend.

Art was represented by Joseph Bridau, one of the best painters among the
younger men. But for a too impressionable nature, which made havoc of
Joseph's heart, he might have continued the traditions of the great
Italian masters, though, for that matter,