would see that what they purpose is
no puny enterprise; nor what they aim at, a selfish conquest.'

'You came to me once before--I remember the incident well; I was living
in the Avenue aux Abois when you summoned me to a meeting at St. Cloud.
The Monarchy might have been saved even then. It was late, but not too
late. I advised a ministry of such materials as the people might trust
and the court corrupt--men of low origin, violent, exacting, but venal.
Six months of such rule would have sent France back to all her ancient
traditions, and the king been more popular than ever. But they would not
hear me: they talked of walking in the high path of duty; and it has
led some to the scaffold, and the rest to exile! But what concern have
I with these things? Do you know, young man, that all your king could
promise, all the mighty people themselves could bestow upon me as I lie
here, could not equal the pleasure that moss-rose yields me, nor the
ecstasy of delight I feel when a gentle wind blows fresh upon my cheek.
Say it out, sir; say out what that supercilious smile implies,' cried
he, his eyes lighting up with all their ancient fire. 'Tell me at once
it was Mirabeau the voluptuary that spoke there! Ay, and I 'll not
gainsay you! If to exult in the perfection of the senses nature has
given me; to drink in with ecstasy what others imbibe in apathy; to feel
a godlike enjoyment where less keenly gifted temperaments had scarcely
known a pleasure--if this is to be a voluptuary, I am one.'

'But why, with powers like yours, limit your enjoyment to mere sensual
pleasures? Why not taste the higher and purer delight of succouring
misfortune and defending the powerless?'

'I _did_ try it,' said the sick man, sighing. 'I essayed to discover
the pleasures of what you would call morality. I was generous; I forgave
injuries; I pardoned ingratitude; I aided struggling misery; but the
reward was not forthcoming;--these things gave me no happiness.'

'No happiness!'

'None. I tried to forget I was a dupe; I did my best to believe myself
a benefactor of my species; I stopped my ear against any praises from
those I had befriended; but nothing in my heart responded to their
joy. I was not happier. Remember, boy,' cried he, 'that even your own
moralists only promise the recompense for virtue in another world. I
looked for smaller profits and prompter payment. The mockery of his
smile, as he spoke, seemed to wound Gerald; for, as he turned