ects sleep, disturbing and
interrupting it. I vaguely remember the strange sensation which I
experienced when the pale crescent of the moon appeared in my window
and the iron squares cut it with ominous black lines into small silver
squares....

When I started for the lecture I felt exhausted and rather inclined to
silence than to conversation; the vision of the night before disturbed
me. But when I saw those dear faces, those eyes full of hope and ardent
entreaty for friendly advice; when I saw before me that rich field,
already ploughed, waiting only for the good seed to be sown, my heart
began to burn with delight, pity and love. Avoiding the customary
formalities which accompany the meetings of people, declining the hands
outstretched to greet me, I turned to the audience, which was agitated
at the very sight of me, and gave them my blessing with a gesture to
which I know how to lend a peculiar majesty.

"Come unto me," I exclaimed; "come unto me; you who have gone away from
that life. Here, in this quiet abode, under the sacred protection of the
iron grate, at my heart overflowing with love, you will find rest and
comfort. My beloved children, give me your sad soul, exhausted from
suffering, and I shall clothe it with light. I shall carry it to those
blissful lands where the sun of eternal truth and love never sets."

Many had begun to cry already, but, as it was too early for tears, I
interrupted them with a gesture of fatherly impatience, and continued:

"You, dear girl, who came from the world which calls itself free--what
gloomy shadows lie on your charming and beautiful face! And you, my
daring youth, why are you so pale? Why do I see, instead of the ecstasy
of victory, the fear of defeat in your lowered eyes? And you, honest
mother, tell me, what wind has made your eyes so red? What furious rain
has lashed your wizened face? What snow has whitened your hair, for it
used to be dark?"

But the weeping and the sobs drowned the end of my speech, and besides,
I admit it without feeling ashamed of it, I myself brushed away more
than one treacherous tear from my eyes. Without allowing the agitation
to subside completely, I called in a voice of stern and truthful
reproach:

"Do not weep because your soul is dark, stricken with misfortunes,
blinded by chaos, clipped of its wings by doubts; give it to me and I
shall direct it toward the light, toward order and reason. I know the
truth. I have conceived the world