tom of their souls an
insupportable wretchedness. The richest became libertines; those of
moderate fortune followed some profession and resigned themselves to the
sword or to the church. The poorest gave themselves up with cold
enthusiasm to great thoughts, plunged into the frightful sea of aimless
effort. As human weakness seeks association and as men are gregarious by
nature, politics became mingled with it. There were struggles with the
'garde du corps' on the steps of the legislative assembly; at the theatre
Talma wore a wig which made him resemble Caesar; every one flocked to the
burial of a Liberal deputy.

But of the members of the two parties there was not one who, upon
returning home, did not bitterly realize the emptiness of his life and
the feebleness of his hands.

While life outside was so colorless and so mean, the inner life of
society assumed a sombre aspect of silence; hypocrisy ruled in all
departments of conduct; English ideas, combining gayety with devotion,
had disappeared. Perhaps Providence was already preparing new ways,
perhaps the herald angel of future society was already sowing in the
hearts of women the seeds of human independence. But it is certain that a
strange thing suddenly happened: in all the salons of Paris the men
passed on one side and the women on the other; and thus, the one clad in
white like brides, and the other in black like orphans, began to take
measure of one another with the eye.

Let us not be deceived: that vestment of black which the men of our time
wear is a terrible symbol; before coming to this, the armor must have
fallen piece by piece and the embroidery flower by flower. Human reason
has overthrown all illusions; but it bears in itself sorrow, in order
that it may be consoled.

The customs of students and artists, those customs so free, so beautiful,
so full of youth, began to experience the universal change. Men in taking
leave of women whispered the word which wounds to the death: contempt.
They plunged into the dissipation of wine and courtesans. Students and
artists did the same; love was treated as were glory and religion: it was
an old illusion. The grisette, that woman so dreamy, so romantic, so
tender, and so sweet in love, abandoned herself to the counting-house and
to the shop. She was poor and no one loved her; she needed gowns and hats
and she sold herself. Oh! misery! the young man who ought to love her,
whom she loved, who used to take her to the