refore went at once into trade, and
manufactured, for instance, sealing wax, or--Madame, this paragraph
must be brought to an end, or I shall be out of breath--in fine, in such
times it is impossible to advance far in geography.

I succeeded better in natural history, for there we find fewer changes,
and we always have standard engravings of apes, kangaroos, zebras,
rhinoceroses, etc., etc. And having many such pictures in my memory, it
often happens that at first sight many mortals appeared to me like old
acquaintances.

I also did well in mythology, and took a real delight in the mob of gods
and goddesses who, so jolly and naked, governed the world. I do not
believe that there was a schoolboy in ancient Rome who knew the
principal points of his catechism--that is, the loves of Venus--better
than I. To tell the plain truth, it seems to me that if we must learn
all the heathen gods by heart, we might as well have kept them from the
first; and we have not, perhaps, gained so much with our New-Roman
Trinity or still less with our Jewish unity. Perhaps the old mythology
was not in reality so immoral as we imagine, and it was, for example, a
very decent idea of Homer to give to much-loved Venus a husband.

But I succeeded best in the French class of the Abbe d'Aulnoi, a French
_emigre_, who had written a number of grammars, and wore a red wig, and
jumped about very nervously when he lectured on his _Art poetique_ and
his _Histoire Allemande_. He was the only one in the whole gymnasium who
taught German history. Still, French has its difficulties, and to learn
it there must be much quartering of troops, much drumming, much
_apprendre par coeur_, and, above all, no one must be a _bete
allemande_. There was here, too, many a hard nut to crack; and I can
remember as plainly as though it happened but yesterday that I once got
into a bad scrape through _la religion_. I was asked at least six times
in succession, "Henry, what is French for 'the faith?'" And six times,
with an ever increasing inclination to weep, I replied, "It is called
_le credit_." And after the seventh question the furious examinator,
purple in the face, cried, "It is called _la religion_"--and there was a
rain of blows and a thunder of laughter from all my schoolmates. Madame,
since that day I never hear the word _religion_ without having my back
turn pale with terror, and my cheeks turn red with shame. And to tell
the honest truth, _le credit_ has during my