llections of 1793-94 and incapable of dwelling
upon anything else. The twelvemonths' dream was so vivid that those
who had experienced it could not come back to real life. They were
ever haunted by the same sinister fancy; they had a _delirium tremens_
of blood. They were uncompromising in their belief, and the world at
large, which no longer pitched its note to their cry, seemed idle and
empty in their eyes. Left standing alone like the survivors of a world
of giants, loaded with the opprobrium of the human race, they could
hold no sort of communion with the living. I could quite understand
the effect which Lakanal must have produced when he returned from
America in 1833 and appeared among his colleagues of the _Academic
des Sciences Morales et Politiques_ like a phantom. I could understand
Daunou looking upon M. Cousin and M. Guizot as dangerous Jesuits. By
a not uncommon contrast these survivors of the fierce struggles and
combats of the Revolution had become as gentle as lambs. Man, to be
kind, need not necessarily have a logical basis for his kindness. The
most cruel of the Inquisitors of the middle ages, Conrad of Marburg
for instance, were the kindest of men. This we see in _Torquemada_,
where the genius of Victor Hugo shows us how a man may send his
fellows to the stake out of charity and sentimentalism.

LITTLE NOEMI.

PART I.

Although the religious and too premature sacerdotal education which I
had received prevented me from being on any intimate terms with young
people of the other sex, I had several little girl-friends one of
whom more particularly has left a profound impression upon me. From an
early age I preferred the society of girls to boys, and the latter
did not like me, as I was too effeminate for them. We could not play
together, as they called me "Mademoiselle," and teased me in a variety
of ways. On the other hand, I got on very well with girls of my own
age, and they found me very sensible and steady. I was about twelve or
thirteen, and I could not account for the preference. The vague idea
which attracted me to them was, I think, that men are at liberty to do
many things which women cannot, and the latter consequently had, in
my eyes, the charm of being weak and beautiful creatures, subject in
their daily life to rules of conduct which they did not attempt to
override. All those whom I had known were the pattern of modesty.
The first feeling which stirred in me was one of pity, so to