f noble ideas by the
continual feeling of the sacrifice of life; yet it does not occupy the
whole man. He can not always apply his thoughts to it. Peace lulls them.
Moreover, one has also to fear seeing them suddenly interrupted by an
obscure blow or an absurd and untimely accident. And if a man be killed
in the execution of his plan, posterity preserves an idea of the plan
which he himself had not, and which may be wholly preposterous; and this
is the evil side of the profession for a man of letters."

De Thou smiled with pleasure at the simple language of this superior
man--this man whom he so admired, and in his admiration loved. He
pressed the hand of the young sage of Touraine, and drew him into an
adjoining cabinet with Corneille, Milton, and Moliere, and with them
enjoyed one of those conversations which make us regard as lost the time
which precedes them and the time which is to follow them.

For two hours they had enchanted one another with their discourse, when
the sound of music, of guitars and flutes playing minuets, sarabands,
allemandes, and the Spanish dances which the young Queen had brought
into fashion, the continual passing of groups of young ladies and their
joyous laughter, all announced that the ball had commenced. A very young
and beautiful person, holding a large fan as it were a sceptre, and
surrounded by ten young men, entered their retired chamber with her
brilliant court, which she ruled like a queen, and entirely put to the
rout the studious conversers.

"Adieu, gentlemen!" said De Thou. "I make way for Mademoiselle de
l'Enclos and her musketeers."

"Really, gentlemen," said the youthful Ninon, "we seem to frighten you.
Have I disturbed you? You have all the air of conspirators."

"We are perhaps more so than these gentlemen, although we dance," said
Olivier d'Entraigues, who led her.

"Ah! your conspiracy is against me, Monsieur le Page!" said Ninon,
looking the while at another light-horseman, and abandoning her
remaining arm to a third, the other gallants seeking to place themselves
in the way of her flying ceillades, for she distributed her glances
brilliant as the rays of the sun dancing over the moving waters.

De Thou stole away without any one thinking of stopping him, and was
descending the great staircase, when he met the little Abbe de Gondi,
red, hot, and out of breath, who stopped him with an animated and joyous
air.

"How now! whither go you? Let the foreigners and sav