to God.

LXXV.

This second father very soon became so fond of me, that he proposed to
give me occasionally, in his library, some lessons in those elevated
sciences which had rendered him illustrious, and now constituted his
chief relaxation. I went to him sometimes in the morning; Julie would
come at the same hours. It was a rare and touching spectacle to see
that old man seated in the midst of his books,--a monument of human
learning and philosophy, of which he had exhausted all the pages during
his long life,--discovering the mysteries of Nature and of thought to a
youth who stood beside him; while a woman, young and lovely as that
ideal philosophy, that loving wisdom,--the Beatrice of the poet of
Florence,--attended as his first disciple, and was the fellow-learner
of that younger brother. She brought the books, turned over the page,
and marked the chapters with her extended rosy finger; she moved amid
the spheres, the globes, the instruments, and the heaps of volumes, in
the dust of human knowledge; and seemed the soul of Nature disengaging
itself from matter, to kindle it and teach it to burn and love.

I learned and understood more in a few days than in years of dry and
solitary study; but the frequent infirmities of age in the master too
often interrupted these morning lessons.

LXXVI.

I invariably spent a part of my night in the company of her who was to
me both night and day, time and eternity. As I have already said, I
always arrived when importunate visitors had left the drawing-room.
Sometimes I remained long hours on the quay or on the bridge, walking
or standing still by turns, and waiting in vain for the inside shutter
to open and to give the mute signal on which we had agreed. How have I
watched the sluggish waters of the Seine beneath the arches of the
bridge, bearing away in their course the trembling rays of the moon, or
the reflected light of the windows of the city. How many hours and half
hours have I not reckoned as they sounded from the near or distant
churches, and cursed their slowness or accused their speed! I knew the
tones of every brazen voice in the towers of Paris. There were lucky
and unlucky days. Sometimes I went in, without waiting an instant, and
only found her husband with her, who spent in lively talk, or friendly
conversation, the hours that unbent and prepared him for sleep. At
other times I only met one or two friends; they dropped in for a short
time, br