that the grateful Henri de Marsay was hardly moved at aught in 1814；
except when he looked at the portrait of his beloved bishop； the only
personal possession which the prelate had been able to bequeath him
（admirable type of the men whose genius will preserve the Catholic；
Apostolic； and Roman Church； compromised for the moment by the
feebleness of its recruits and the decrepit age of its pontiffs； but
if the church likes！）。
The continental war prevented young De Marsay from knowing his real
father。 It is doubtful whether he was aware of his name。 A deserted
child； he was equally ignorant of Madame de Marsay。 Naturally； he had
little regret for his putative father。 As for Mademoiselle de Marsay；
his only mother； he built for her a handsome little monument in Pere
Lachaise when she died。 Monseigneur de Maronis had guaranteed to this
old lady one of the best places in the skies； so that when he saw her
die happy； Henri gave her some egotistical tears； he began to weep on
his own account。 Observing this grief； the abbe dried his pupil's
tears； bidding him observe that the good woman took her snuff most
offensively； and was becoming so ugly and deaf and tedious that he
ought to return thanks for her death。 The bishop had emancipated his
pupil in 1811。 Then； when the mother of M。 de Marsay remarried； the
priest chose； in a family council； one of those honest dullards；
picked out by him through the windows of his confessional； and charged
him with the administration of the fortune； the revenues of which he
was willing to apply to the needs of the community； but of which he
wished to preserve the capital。
Towards the end of 1814； then； Henri de Marsay had no sentiment of
obligation in the world； and was as free as an unmated bird。 Although
he had lived twenty…two years he appeared to be barely seventeen。 As a
rule the most fastidious of his rivals considered him to be the
prettiest youth in Paris。 From his father； Lord Dudley； he had derived
a pair of the most amorously deceiving blue eyes； from his mother the
bushiest of black hair； from both pure blood； the skin of a young
girl； a gentle and modest expression； a refined and aristocratic
figure； and beautiful hands。 For a woman； to see him was to lose her
head for him； do you understand？ to conceive one of those desires
which eat the heart； which are forgotten because of the impossibility
of satisfying them； because women in Paris are commonly without
tenacity。 Few of them say to themselves； after the fashion of men； the
〃/Je Maintiendrai/；〃 of the House of Orange。
Underneath this fresh young life； and in spite of the limpid springs
in his eyes； Henri had a lion's courage； a monkey's agility。 He could
cut a ball in half at ten paces on the blade of a knife； he rode his
horse in a way that made you realize the fable of the Centaur； drove a
four…in…hand with grace； was as light as a cherub and quiet as a lamb；
but knew how to beat a townsman at the terrible game of /savate/ or
cudgels； moreover； he played the piano in a fashion which would have
enabled him to become an artist should he fall on calamity； and owned
a voice which would have been worth to Barbaja fifty thousand francs a
season。 Alas； that all these fine qualities； these pretty faults； were
tarnished by one abominable vice： he believed neither in man nor
woman； God nor Devil。 Capricious nature had commenced by endowing him；
a priest had completed the work。
To render this adventure comprehensible； it is necessary to add here
that Lord Dudley naturally found many women disposed to reproduce
samples of such a delicious pattern。 His second masterpiece of this
kind was a young girl named Euphemie； born of a Spanish lady； reared
in Havana； and brought to Madrid with a young Creole woman of the
Antilles； and with all the ruinous tastes of the Colonies； but
fortunately married to an old and extremely rich Spanish noble； Don
Hijos； Marquis de San…Real； who； since the occupation of Spain by
French troops； had taken up his abode in Paris； and lived in the Rue
St。 Lazare。 As much from indifference as from any respect for the
innocence of youth； Lord Dudley was not in the habit of keeping his
children informed of the relations he created for them in all parts。
That is a slightly inconvenient form of civilization； it has so many
advantages that we must overlook its drawbacks in consideration of its
benefits。 Lord Dudley； to make no more words of it； came to Paris in
1816 to take refuge from the pursuit of English justice； which
protects nothing Oriental except commerce。 The exiled lord； when he
saw Henri； asked who that handsome young man might be。 Then； upon
hearing the name； 〃Ah； it is my son。 。 。 。 What a pity！〃 he said。
Such was the story of the young man who； about the middle of the month
of April； 1815； was walking indolently up the broad avenue of the
Tuileries； after the fashion of all those animals who； knowing their
strength； pass along in majesty and peace。 Middle…class matrons turned
back naively to look at him again； other women； without turning round；
waited for him to pass again； and engraved him in their minds that
they might remember in due season that fragrant face； which would not
have disadorned the body of the fairest among themselves。
〃What are you doing here on Sunday？〃 said the Marquis de Ronquerolles
to Henri； as he passed。
〃There's a fish in the net；〃 answered the young man。
This exchange of thoughts was accomplished by means of two significant
glances； without it appearing that either De Ronquerolles or De Marsay
had any knowledge of the other。 The young man was taking note of the
passers…by with that promptitude of eye and ear which is peculiar to
the Parisian who seems； at first； to see and hear nothing； but who
sees and hears all。
At that moment a young man came up to him and took him familiarly by
the arm； saying to him： 〃How are you； my dear De Marsay？〃
〃Extremely well；〃 De Marsay answered； with that air of apparent
affection which amongst the young men of Paris proves nothing； either
for the present or the future。
In effect； the youth of Paris resemble the youth of no other town。
They may be divided into two classes： the young man who has something；
and the young man who has nothing； or the young man who thinks and he
who spends。 But； be it well understood this applies only to those
natives of the soil who maintain in Paris the delicious course of the
elegant life。 There exist； as well； plenty of other young men； but
they are children who are late in conceiving Parisian life； and who
remain its dupes。 They do not speculate； they study； they /fag/； as
the others say。 Finally there are to be found； besides； certain young
people； rich or poor； who embrace careers and follow them with a
single heart； they are somewhat like the Emile of Rousseau； of the
flesh of citizens； and they never appear in society。 The diplomatic
impolitely dub them fools。 Be they that or no； they augment the number
of those mediocrities beneath the yoke of which France is bowed down。
They are always there； always ready to bungle public or private
concerns with the dull trowel of their mediocrity； bragging of their
impotence； which they count for conduct and integrity。 This sort of
social /prizemen/ infests the administration； the army； the
magistracy； the chambers； the courts。 They diminish and level down the
country and constitute； in some manner； in the body politic； a lymph
which infects it and renders it flabby。 These honest folk call men of
talent immoral or rogues。 If such rogues require to be paid for their
services； at least their services are there； whereas the other sort do
harm and are respected by the mob； but； happily for France； elegant
youth stigmatizes them ceaselessly under the name of louts。
At the first glance； then； it is natural to consider as very distinct
the two sorts of young men who lead the life of elegance； the amiable
corporation to which Henri de Marsay belonged。 But the observer； who
goes beyond the superficial aspect of things； is soon convinced that
the difference is purely moral； and that nothing is so deceptive as
this pretty outside。 Nevertheless； all alike take precedence over
everybody else； speak rightly or wrongly of things； of men；
literature； and the fine arts； have ever in their mouth the Pitt and
Coburg of each year； interrupt a conversation with a pun； turn into
ridicule science and the /savant/； despise all things which they do
not know or which they fear； set themselves above all by constituting
themselves the supreme judges of all。 They would all hoax their
fathers； and be ready to shed crocodile tears upon their mothers'
breasts； but generally they believe in nothing； blaspheme women； or
play at modesty； and in reality are led by some old woman or an evil
courtesan。 They are all equally eaten to the bone with calculation；
with depravity； with a brutal lust to succeed； and if you plumbed for
their hearts you would find in all a stone。 In their normal state they
have the prettiest exterior； stake their friendship at every turn； are
captivating alike。 The same badinage dominates their ever…changing
jargon； they seek for oddity in their toilette； glory in repeating the
stupidities of such and such actor who is in fashion； and commence
operations； it matters not with whom； with contempt and impertinence；
in order to have； as it were； the first move in the game； but； woe
betide him who does not know how to take a blow on one cheek for the
sake of rendering two。 They resemble； in fine； that pretty white spray
which crests the stormy waves。 They dress and dance； dine and take
their pleasure； on the day of Waterloo； in the time of cholera or
revolution。 Finally； their expenses are all the same； but here the
contrast comes in。 Of this fluctuating fortune； so agreeably flung
away； some possess the capital for which the others wait； they have
the same tailors； but the bills of the latter are still to pay。 Next；
if the first； like sieves； take in ideas of all kinds without
retaining any； the latter compare them and assimilate all the good。 If
the first believe they know something； know nothing and understand
everything； lend all to those wh