and so little did my taste
second the routine of trifles in which I had been lately engaged, that
in looking upon the earnest features of the man on which the solitary
light streamed calm and full; and impressed with the deep quiet and
solitude of the chamber, together with the undisturbed sanctity of
comfort presiding over the small, bright hearth, and contrasting what I
saw with the brilliant scene--brilliant with gaudy, wearing, wearisome
frivolities--which I had just quitted, a sensation of envy at the
enjoyments of my dependant entered my breast, accompanied with a
sentiment resembling humiliation at the nature of my own pursuits. I am
generally thought a proud man; but I am never proud to my inferiors;
nor can I imagine pride where there is no competition. I approached
Desmarais, and said, in French,--

"How is this? why did you not, like your fellows, take advantage of my
absence to pursue your own amusements? They must be dull indeed if they
do not hold out to you more tempting inducements than that colossal
offspring of the press."

"Pardon me, Sir," said Desmarais, very respectfully, and closing the
book, "pardon me, I was not aware of your return. Will Monsieur doff his
cloak?"

"No; shut the door, wheel round that chair, and favour me with a sight
of your book."

"Monsieur will be angry, I fear," said the valet (obeying the first two
orders, but hesitating about the third), "with my course of reading: I
confess it is not very compatible with my station."

"Ah, some long romance, the 'Clelia,' I suppose,--nay, bring it hither;
that is to say, if it be movable by the strength of a single man."

Thus urged, Desmarais modestly brought me the book. Judge of my surprise
when I found it was a volume of Leibnitz, a philosopher then very much
the rage,--because one might talk of him very safely, without having
read him.* Despite of my surprise, I could not help smiling when my eye
turned from the book to the student. It is impossible to conceive an
appearance less like a philosopher's than that of Jean Desmarais. His
wig was of a nicety that would not have brooked the irregularity of
a single hair; his dress was not preposterous, for I do not remember,
among gentles or valets, a more really exquisite taste than that of
Desmarais; but it evinced, in every particular, the arts of the toilet.
A perpetual smile sat upon his lips,--sometimes it deepened into a
sneer, but that was the only change it ever experience