hief　of　the　Second　Administrative　Division。　　That　same　year；　the　Emperor；　whose　attention　had　been　called　to　him　by　the　Minister；　ordered　him　to　make　a　report　upon　the　organisation　of　the　English　navy。　　This　work；　which　reflected　a　profoundly　liberal　and　philosophic　spirit；　of　which　the　editor　himself　was　unconscious；　was　only　finished　in　1807about　eighteen　months　after　the　defeat　of　Admiral　Villeneuve　at　Trafalgar。　　Napoleon；　who；　from　that　disastrous　day；　never　wanted　to　hear　the　word　ship　mentioned　in　his　presence；　angrily　glanced　over　a　few　pages　of　the　memoir；　and　then　threw　it　in　the　fire；　vociferating；　'Words！words！　I　said　once　before　that　I　hated　ideologists。'　　My　father　was　told　afterwards　that　the　Emperor's　anger　was　so　intense　at　the　moment　that　he　stamped　the　manuscript　down　into　the　fire　with　his　boot…　heels。　　At　all　events；　it　was　his　habit；　when　very　much　irritated；　to　poke　down　the　fire　with　his　boot…soles。　　My　father　never　fully　recovered　from　this　disgrace；　and　the　fruitlessness　of　all　his　efforts　towards　reform　was　certainly　the　cause　of　the　apathy　which　came　upon　him　at　a　later　day。　　Nevertheless；　Napoleon；　after　his　return　from　Elba；　sent　for　him；　and　ordered　him　to　prepare　some　liberal　and　patriotic　bulletins　and　proclamations　for　the　fleet。　After　Waterloo；　my　father；　whom　the　event　had　rather　saddened　than　surprised；　retired　into　private　life；　and　was　not　interfered　with　except　that　it　was　generally　averred　of　him　that　he　was　a　Jacobin；　a　buveur…de…sangone　of　those　men　with　whom　no　one　could　afford　to　be　on　intimate　terms。　　My　mother's　eldest　brother；　Victor　Maldent；　and　infantry　captainretired　on　half…pay　in　1814；　and　disbanded　in　1815aggravated　by　his　bad　attitude　the　situation　in　which　the　fall　of　the　Empire　had　placed　my　father。　　Captain　Victor　used　to　shout　in　the　cafes　and　the　public　balls　that　the　Bourbons　had　sold　France　to　the　Cossacks。　　He　used　to　show　everybody　a　tricoloured　cockade　hidden　in　the　lining　of　his　hat；　and　carried　with　much　ostentation　a　walking…stick；　the　handle　of　which　had　been　so　carved　that　the　shadow　thrown　by　it　made　the　silhouette　of　the　Emperor。
  〃Unless　you　have　seen　certain　lithographs　by　Charlet；　Madame；　you　could　form　no　idea　of　the　physiognomy　of　my　Uncle　Victor；　when　he　used　to　stride　about　the　garden　of　the　Tuileries　with　a　fiercely　elegant　manner　of　his　ownbuttoned　up　in　his　frogged　coat；　with　his　cross…of…honour　upon　his　breast；　and　a　bouquet　of　violets　in　his　button…hole。
  〃Idleness　and　intemperance　greatly　intensified　the　vulgar　recklessness　of　his　political　passions。　　He　used　to　insult　people　whom　he　happened　to　see　reading　the　'Quotidienne；'　or　the　'Drapeau　Blanc；'　and　compel　them　to　fight　with　him。　　In　this　way　he　had　the　pain　and　the　shame　of　wounding　a　boy　of　sixteen　in　a　duel。　　In　short；　my　Uncle　Victor　was　the　very　reverse　of　a　well…behaved　person；　and　as　he　came　to　lunch　and　dine　at　our　house　every　blessed　day　in　the　year；　his　bad　reputation　became　attached　to　our　family。　　My　poor　father　suffered　cruelly　from　some　of　his　guest's　pranks；　but　being　very　good…natured；　he　never　made　any　remarks；　and　continued　to　give　the　freedom　of　his　house　to　the　captain；　who　only　despised　him　for　it。
  〃All　this　which　I　have　told　you；　Madame；　was　explained　to　me　afterwards。　　But　at　the　time　in　question；　my　uncle　the　captain　filled　me　with　the　very　enthusiasm　of　admiration；　and　I　promised　myself　to　try　to　become　some　day　as　like　him　as　possible。　　So　one　fine　morning；　in　order　to　begin　the　likeness；　I　put　my　arms　akimbo；　and　swore　like　a　trooper。　　My　excellent　mother　at　once　gave　me　such　a　box　on　the　ear　that　I　remained　half　stupefied　for　some　little　while　before　I　could　even　burst　out　crying。　　I　can　still　see　the　old　arm…chair；　covered　with　yellow　Utrecht　velvet；　behind　which　I　wept　innumerable　tears　that　day。
  〃I　was　a　very　little　fellow　then。　　One　morning　my　father；　lifting　me　upon　his　knees；　as　he　was　in　the　habit　of　doing；　smiled　at　me　with　that　slightly　ironical　smile　which　gave　a　certain　piquancy　to　his　perpetual　gentleness　of　manner。　　As　I　sat　on　his　knee；　playing　with　his　long　white　hair；　he　told　me　something　which　I　did　not　understand　very　well；　but　which　interested　me　very　much；　for　the　simple　reason　that　it　was　mysterious　to　me。　　I　think　but　am　not　quite　sure；　that　he　related　to　me　that　morning　the　story　of　the　little　King　of　Yvetot；　according　to　the　song。　　All　of　a　sudden　we　heard　a　great　report；　and　the　windows　rattled。　　My　father　slipped　me　down　gently　on　the　floor　at　his　feet；　he　threw　up　his　trembling　arms；　with　a　strange　gesture；　his　face　became　all　inert　and　white；　and　his　eyes　seemed　enormous。　　He　tried　to　speak；　but　his　teeth　were　chattering。　　At　last　he　murmured；　'They　have　shot　him！'　　I　did　not　know　what　he　meant；　and　felt　only　a　vague　terror。　　I　knew　afterwards；　however；　that　hew　was　speaking　of　Marshal　Ney；　who　fell　on　the　7th　of　December；　1815；　under　the　wall　enclosing　some　waste　ground　beside　our　house。
  〃About　that　time　I　used　often　to　meet　on　the　stairway　an　old　man　（or；　perhaps；　not　exactly　an　old　man）　with　little　black　eyes　which　flashed　with　extraordinary　vivacity；　and　an　impassive；　swarthy　face。　He　did　not　seem　to　me　aliveor　at　least　he　did　not　seem　to　me　alive　in　the　same　way　that　other　men　are　alive。　　I　had　once　seen；　at　the　residence　of　Monsieur　Denon；　where　my　father　had　taken　me　with　him　on　a　visit；　a　mummy　brought　from　Egypt；　and　I　believed　in　good　faith　that　Monsieur　Denon's　mummy　used　to　get　up　when　no　one　was　looking；　leave　its　gilded　case；　put　on　a　brown　coat　and　powdered　wig；　and　become　transformed　into　Monsieur　de　Lessay。　　And　even　to…day；　dear　Madame；　while　I　reject　that　opinion　as　being　without　foundation；　I　must　confess　that　Monsier　de　Lessay　bore　a　very　strong　resemblance　to　Monsieur　Denon's　mummy。　　The　fact　is　enough　to　explain　why　this　person　inspired　me　with　fantastic　terror。
  〃In　reality；　Monsieur　de　Lessay　was　a　small　gentleman　and　a　great　philosopher。　　As　a　disciple　of　Mably　and　Rousseau；　he　flattered　himself　on　being　a　man　without　any　prejudices；　and　this　pretension　itself　is　a　very　great　prejudice。
  〃He　professed　to　hate　fanaticism；　yet　was　himself　a　fanatic　on　the　topic　of　toleration。　　I　am　telling　you；　Madame；　about　a　character　belonging　to　an　age　that　is　past。　　I　fear　I　may　not　be　able　to　make　you　understand；　and　I　am　sure　I　shall　not　be　able　to　interest　you。　It　was　so　long　ago！　　But　I　will　abridge　as　much　as　possible：　　besides；　I　did　not　promise　you　anything　interesting；　and　you　could　not　have　expected　to　hear　of　remarkable　adventures　in　the　life　of　Sylvestre　Bonnard。〃
  Madame　de　Gabry　encouraged　me　to　proceed；　and　I　resumed：
  〃Monsieur　de　Lessay　was　brusque　with　men　and　courteous　to　ladies。　He　used　to　kiss　the　hand　of　my　mother；　whom　the　customs　of　the　Republic　and　the　Empire　had　not　habituated　to　such　gallantry。　　In　him；　I　touched　the　age　of　Louis　XVI。　　Monsieur　de　Lessay　was　a　geographer；　and　nobody；　I　believe；　ever　showed　more　pride　then　he　in　occupying　himself　with　the　face　of　the　earth。　　Under　the　Old　Regime　he　had　attempted　philosophical　agriculture；　and　thus　squandered　his　estates　to　the　very　last　acre。　　When　he　had　ceased　to　own　one　square　foot　of　ground；　he　took　possession　of　the　whole　globe；　and　prepared　an　extraordinary　number　of　maps；　based　upon　the　narratives　of　travellers。　　But　as　he　had　been　mentally　nourished　with　the　very　marrow　of　the　〃Encyclopedie；〃　he　was　not　satisfied　with　merely　parking　off　human　beings　within　so　many　degrees；　minutes；　and　seconds　of　latitude　and　longitude。　　he　also　occupied　himself；　alas！　with　the　question　of　their　happiness。　　It　is　worthy　of　remark；　Madame；　that　those　who　have　given　themselves　the　most　concern　about　the　happiness　of　peoples　have　made　their　neighbors　very　miserable。　Monsieur　de　Lessay；　who　was　more　of　a　geometrician　than　D'Alembert；　and　more　of　a　philosopher　than　Jean　Jacques；　was　also　more　of　a　royalist　than　Louis　XVIII。　　But　his　love　for　the　King　was　nothing　to　his　hate　for　the　Emperor。　　He　had　joined　the　conspiracy　of　Georges　against　the　First　Consul；　but　in　the　framing　of　the　indictment　he　was　not　included　among　the　inculpated　parties；　having　been　either　ignored　or　despised；　and　this　injury　he　never　could　forgive　Bonaparte；　whom　he　called　the　Ogre　of　Corsica；　and　to　whom　he　used　to　say　he　would　never　have　confided　even　the　command　of　a　regiment；　so　pitiful　a　soldier　he　judged　him　to　be。
  〃In　1820；　Monsieur　de　Lessay；　who　had　then　been　a　widower　for　many　years；　married　again；　at　the　age　of　sixty；　a　very　young　woman；　whom　he　pitilessly　kept　at　work　preparing　maps　for　him；　and　who　gave　him　a　daughter　some　years　after　their　marriage；　and　died　in　childbed。　My　mother　had　nursed　her　during　her　brief　illness；　and　had　taken　care　of　the　child。　　The　name　of　that　child　was　Clementine。
  〃It　was　from　the　time　of　that　birth　and　that　death　that　the　relations　between　our　family　and　Monsieur　de　Lessay　began。　　In　the　meanwhile　I　had　been　growing　dull　as　I　began　to　leave　my　true　childhood　behind　me。　　I　had　lost　the　charming　power　of　being　able　to　see　and　feel；　and　things　no　longer　caused　me　those　delicious　surprises　which　form　the　enchantment　of　the　more　tender　age。　　For　the　same　reason；　perhaps；　I　have　no　distinct　remembrance　of　the　period　following　the　birth　of