ettiness of his folly.
Moreover, the rich man has passions, the peasant only wants. The peasant
is therefore doubly poor; and if, politically, his aggressions must be
pitilessly repressed, to the eyes of humanity and religion he is sacred.

CHAPTER II. A BUCOLIC OVERLOOKED BY VIRGIL

When a Parisian drops into the country he is cut off from all his usual
habits, and soon feels the dragging hours, no matter how attentive his
friends may be to him. Therefore, because it is so impossible to prolong
in a tete-a-tete conversations that are soon exhausted, the master
and mistress of a country-house are apt to say, calmly, "You will be
terribly bored here." It is true that to understand the delights of
country life one must have something to do, some interests in it; one
must know the nature of the work to be done, and the alternating harmony
of toil and pleasure,--eternal symbol of human life.

When a Parisian has recovered his powers of sleeping, shaken off the
fatigues of his journey, and accustomed himself to country habits,
the hardest period of the day (if he wears thin boots and is neither
a sportsman nor an agriculturalist) is the early morning. Between the
hours of waking and breakfasting, the women of the family are sleeping
or dressing, and therefore unapproachable; the master of the house is
out and about on his own affairs; a Parisian is therefore compelled
to be alone from eight to eleven o'clock, the hour chosen in all
country-houses for breakfast. Now, having got what amusement he can
out of carefully dressing himself, he has soon exhausted that resource.
Then, perhaps, he has brought with him some work, which he finds it
impossible to do, and which goes back untouched, after he sees the
difficulties of doing it, into his valise; a writer is then obliged to
wander about the park and gape at nothing or count the big trees. The
easier the life, the more irksome such occupations are,--unless, indeed,
one belongs to the sect of shaking quakers or to the honorable guild
of carpenters or taxidermists. If one really had, like the owners of
estates, to live in the country, it would be well to supply one's self
with a geological, mineralogical, entomological, or botanical hobby;
but a sensible man doesn't give himself a vice merely to kill time for
a fortnight. The noblest estate, and the finest chateaux soon pall on
those who possess nothing but the sight of them. The beauties of nature
seem rather squalid co