e called
my fanaticism (this was a word very much in vogue and applied
indiscriminately to almost everything). I observed, indeed, that he had
a more profound esteem for me, I may even say a sort of respect which
did not express itself in words, but which was revealed by a thousand
little signs of compliance and deference.

One day, when he was speaking of the great power exercised by gentleness
of manners in alliance with a resolute will, citing both good and bad
examples from the history of men, especially the gentleness of the
apostles and the hypocrisy of the priests of all religions, it came into
my mind to ask him if, with my headstrong nature and hasty temper, I
should ever be able to exercise any influence on my fellows. When I used
this last word I was, of course, thinking only of Edmee. Arthur replied
that the influence which I exercised would be other than that of studied
gentleness.

"Your influence," he said, "will be due to your natural goodness of
heart. Warmth of soul, ardour and perseverance in affection, these are
what are needed in family life, and these qualities make our defects
loved even by those who have to suffer from them most. We should
endeavour, therefore, to master ourselves out of love for those who
love us; but to propose to one's self a system of moderation in the
most intimate concerns of love and friendship would, in my opinion, be
a childish task, a work of egotism which would kill all affection, in
ourselves first, and soon afterwards in the others. I was speaking of
studied moderation only in the exercise of authority over the masses.
Now, should your ambition ever . . ."

"You believe, then," I said, without listening to the last part of his
speech, "that, such as I am, I might make a woman happy and force her to
love me, in spite of all my faults and the harm they cause?"

"O lovelorn brain!" he exclaimed. "How difficult it is to distract your
thoughts! . . . Well, if you wish to know, Bernard, I will tell you what
I think of your love-affair. The person you love so ardently loves you,
unless she is incapable of love or quite bereft of judgment."

I assured him that she was as much above all other women as the lion
is above the squirrel, the cedar above the hyssop, and with the help of
metaphors I succeeded in convincing him. Then he persuaded me to tell
him a few details, in order, as he said, that he might judge of my
position with regard to Edmee. I opened my heart without