rately the woman he loved; on the contrary, he
kept her in the bluest and least cloudy heaven of love. The problem of
eternal beatitude is one of those whose solution is known only to God.
Here, below, the sublimest poets have simply harassed their readers when
attempting to picture paradise. Dante's reef was that of Vandenesse; all
honor to such courage!

Felix's wife began to find monotony in an Eden so well arranged;
the perfect happiness which the first woman found in her terrestrial
paradise gave her at length a sort of nausea of sweet things, and made
the countess wish, like Rivarol reading Florian, for a wolf in the fold.
Such, judging by the history of ages, appears to be the meaning of that
emblematic serpent to which Eve listened, in all probability, out of
ennui. This deduction may seem a little venturesome to Protestants, who
take the book of Genesis more seriously than the Jews themselves.

The situation of Madame de Vandenesse can, however, be explained without
recourse to Biblical images. She felt in her soul an enormous power that
was unemployed. Her happiness gave her no suffering; it rolled along
without care or uneasiness; she was not afraid of losing it; each
morning it shone upon her, with the same blue sky, the same smile, the
same sweet words. That clear, still lake was unruffled by any breeze,
even a zephyr; she would fain have seen a ripple on its glassy surface.
Her desire had something so infantine about it that it ought to be
excused; but society is not more indulgent than the God of Genesis.
Madame de Vandenesse, having now become intelligently clever, was
aware that such sentiments were not permissible, and she refrained from
confiding them to her "dear little husband." Her genuine simplicity had
not invented any other name for him; for one can't call up in cold blood
that delightfully exaggerated language which love imparts to its victims
in the midst of flames.

Vandenesse, glad of this adorable reserve, kept his wife, by deliberate
calculations, in the temperate regions of conjugal affection. He never
condescended to seek a reward or even an acknowledgment of the infinite
pains which he gave himself; his wife thought his luxury and good taste
her natural right, and she felt no gratitude for the fact that her pride
and self-love had never suffered. It was thus in everything. Kindness
has its mishaps; often it is attributed to temperament; people are
seldom willing to recognize it as the