I invariably spent a part of my night in the company of her who was to
me both night and day, time and eternity. As I have already said, I
always arrived when importunate visitors had left the drawing-room.
Sometimes I remained long hours on the quay or on the bridge, walking
or standing still by turns, and waiting in vain for the inside shutter
to open and to give the mute signal on which we had agreed. How have I
watched the sluggish waters of the Seine beneath the arches of the
bridge, bearing away in their course the trembling rays of the moon, or
the reflected light of the windows of the city. How many hours and half
hours have I not reckoned as they sounded from the near or distant
churches, and cursed their slowness or accused their speed! I knew the
tones of every brazen voice in the towers of Paris. There were lucky
and unlucky days. Sometimes I went in, without waiting an instant, and
only found her husband with her, who spent in lively talk, or friendly
conversation, the hours that unbent and prepared him for sleep. At
other times I only met one or two friends; they dropped in for a short
time, bringing the news or the excitement of the day, and devoted to
friendship the first hours of their evening, which they generally
concluded in some political drawing-room. These were in general
parliamentary men, eminent orators of the two chambers,--Suard, Bonald,
Mounier, Reyneval, Lally-Tolendal, the old man with the youthful mind,
and Lainé. This latter was the most perfect copy of ancient eloquence
and virtue that I have seen to venerate in modern times; he was a Roman
in heart, in eloquence, and in appearance, and wanted but the toga to
be the Cicero or the Cato of his day. I felt peculiar admiration and
tender respect for this personification of a good citizen; he, in his
turn, took notice of me, and often distinguished me by some look and
word of preference. He has since been my master; and if one day I had
to serve my country, or to ascend a tribune, the remembrance of his
patriotism and his eloquence would be ever present to me as a model
that I could not hope to equal, but might imitate at a distance.
These men came round the little work-table in turn, while Julie sat
half reclined upon the sofa. I remained silent and respectful in one
corner of the room, far from her, listening, reflecting, admiring, or
disapproving inwardly, but scarcely opening my lips unless questioned,
and only joining in the conversation by a few timid and cautious words
said in a low tone. With a strong conviction on most subjects, I have
always felt an extreme shyness in expressing it before such men; they
appeared to me infinitely my superiors from age and in authority.
Respect for time, for genius, and for fame is part of my nature,--a ray
of glory dazzles me; white hairs awe me; an illustrious name bows me
voluntarily before it. I have often lost something of my real value by
this timidity, but nevertheless I have never regretted it. The
consciousness of the superiority of others is a good feeling in youth,
as at all ages, for it elevates the ideal standard to which we aspire.
Self-confidence in youth is an overweening insolence towards time and
Nature. If the feeling of the superiority of others is a delusion, it
is at least a delusion which raises human nature, and is better than
that which lowers it. Alas, we but too soon reduce it to its true but
sad proportions.
These visitors at first paid little attention to me. I used to see them
stoop towards Julie, and ask, in a low tone, who I was. My thoughtful
countenance and my immovable and modest attitude seemed to surprise and
please them; insensibly they drew towards me, or seemed by a gracious
and encouraging gesture to address some of their remarks to me. It was
an indirect invitation to take my share in the conversation. I said a
few words in grateful recognition, but I soon relapsed into my silence
and obscurity, for fear of prolonging the conversation by keeping it
up. I considered them merely as the frame of a picture; the only real
interest I felt was in the face, the speech, and the mind of her from
whom I was shut out by their presence.