rson to whom you write reduces your talent; you are obliged to write
down to his level. The public has a broader intelligence than any one
person. There are a great many fools, it is true, among the "all," but
the "all" comprises as well the few thousand clever men and women for
whom alone the world may be said to exist. It is in view of them that
one should write.

[Footnote 1: I will add towards animals as well. I could not possibly
behave unkindly to a dog, or treat him roughly, and with an air of
authority.]

FIRST STEPS OUTSIDE ST. SULPICE.

PART V.

I now bring to a conclusion these _Recollections_ by asking the reader
to forgive the irritating fault into which writing of this kind leads
one in every sentence. Vanity is so deep in its secret calculations
that even when frankly criticising himself the writer is liable to the
suspicion of not being quite open and above board. The danger in such
a case is that he will, with unconscious artfulness, humbly confess,
as he can do without much merit, to trifling and external defects so
as indirectly to ascribe to himself very high qualities. The demon
of vanity is, assuredly, a very subtle one, and I ask myself whether
perchance I have fallen a victim to it. If men of taste reproach me
with having shown myself to be a true representative of the age while
pretending not to be so, I beg them to rest well assured that this
will not happen to me again.

Claudite jam rivos, pueri; sat prata biberunt

I have too much work before me to amuse myself in a way which many
people will stigmatise as frivolous. My mother's family at Lannion,
from which I have inherited my disposition, has supplied several cases
of longevity; but certain recurrent symptoms lead me to believe that
so far as I am concerned I shall not furnish another. I shall thank
God that it is so, if I am thus spared years of decadence and loss of
power, which are the only things I dread. At all events, the remainder
of my life will be devoted to a research of the pure objective truth.
Should these be the last lines in which I am given an opportunity of
addressing myself to the public, I may be allowed to thank them for
the intelligent and sympathetic way in which they have supported me.
In former times the most that a man who went out of the beaten track
could expect was that he would be tolerated. My age and country have
been much more indulgent for me. Despite his many defects and his
humble orig