est of all
Victor Hugo's productions, but is in many respects the
greatest work of fiction ever conceived. An enormous range of
matter is pressed into its pages--by turn historical,
philosophical, lyrical, humanitarian--but running through all
the change of scene is the tragedy and comedy of life at its
darkest and its brightest, and of human passions at their
worst and at their best. It is more than a novel. It is a
magnificent plea for the outcasts of society, for those who
are crushed by the mighty edifice of social order. Yet
throughout it all there is the insistent note of the final
triumph of goodness in the heart of man. The story appeared in
1862, when Hugo was sixty years old, and was written during
his exile in Guernsey. It was translated before publication
into nine languages, and published simultaneously in eight of
the principal cities of the world. Hugo died on May 22, 1885.
(See also Vol. XVII.)

_I.--Jean Valjean, Galley-Slave_

Early in October 1815, at the close of the afternoon, a man came into
the little town of D----. He was on foot, and the few people about
looked at him suspiciously. The traveller was of wretched appearance,
though stout and robust, and in the full vigour of life. He was
evidently a stranger, and tired, dusty, and wearied with a long day's
tramp.

But neither of the two inns in the town would give him food or shelter,
though he offered good money for payment.

He was an ex-convict--that was enough to exclude him.

In despair he went to the prison, and asked humbly for a night's
lodging, but the jailer told him that was impossible unless he got
arrested first.

It was a cold night and the wind was blowing from the Alps; it seemed
there was no refuge open to him.

Then, as he sat down on a stone bench in the marketplace and tried to
sleep, a lady coming out of the cathedral noticed him, and, learning his
homeless state, bade him knock at the bishop's house, for the good
bishop's charity and compassion were known in all the neighbourhood.

At the man's knock the bishop, who lived alone with his sister, Madame
Magloire, and an old housekeeper, said "Come in;" and the ex-convict
entered.

He told them at once that his name was Jean Valjean, that he was a
galley-slave, who had spent nineteen years at the hulks, and that he had
been walking for four days since his release. "It is the same whe