on them for so many years of their
life. Animated by a salutary emulation, they will energetically struggle
to accomplish the most arduous duties, in order that one day they may be
distinguished from the rest, and rewarded as you are."

We ask, which of the two sights--the beheaded assassin, or the good man
rewarded--would act on the million with more salutary and more fruitful
effect?

No doubt many delicate minds will be indignant at the bare thought of
these ignoble substantial rewards awarded to the most ethereal thing in
the world,--Virtue! They will find all sorts of arguments, more or less
philosophical, platonic, theological, and especially economic, against
such a proposition; such as, "Virtue is its own reward;" "Virtue is a
priceless gem;" "The satisfaction of the conscience is the noblest of
recompenses;" and, finally, this triumphant and unanswerable objection,
"The eternal happiness which awaits the just in another life ought to be
sufficient to encourage mankind to do well." To this we reply that
society, in order to intimidate and punish the guilty, does not appear
to us to rely entirely and exclusively on the divine vengeance, which
they tell us will visit them in another world. Society anticipates the
last judgment by human judgments. Awaiting the inexorable hour of the
archangels in armour, with sounding trumpets and fiery swords, society
modestly comforts herself with--_gens-d'armes_.

We repeat, to terrify the wicked, we materialise, or rather we reduce to
human, perceptible, and visible proportions, the anticipated effects of
divine wrath. Why should we not do the same with the divine rewards to
worthy and virtuous people?

* * * * *

But let us leave these mad, absurd, stupid, impracticable utopianisms,
like real utopianisms, as they are. Society is as well as it is. Ask
those merry souls, who, with uncertain step, stupid look, and noisy
laugh, have just quitted the gay banquet, if it is not.

CHAPTER XII.

THE PROTECTRESS.

The inspectress soon entered with Goualeuse into the little room where
Clemence was staying. The pale cheek of the young girl was still
slightly coloured in consequence of her conversation with La Louve.

"Madame la Marquise, pleased with the excellent character I have given
of you," said Madame Armand to Fleur-de-Marie, "has desired to see you,
and will, perhaps, be so good as to have you released from here before
the expirat