where he lived, nor who were his protectors, nor what were his means
of subsistence. Looking about them for the causes of this reserve,
some of his colleagues thought him a "carbonaro," others an Orleanist;
there were others again who doubted whether to call him a spy or a man
of solid merit. Desroys was, however, simple and solely the son of a
"Conventionel," who did not vote the king's death. Cold and prudent by
temperament, he had judged the world and ended by relying on no one
but himself. Republican in secret, an admirer of Paul-Louis Courier
and a friend of Michael Chrestien, he looked to time and public
intelligence to bring about the triumph of his opinions from end to
end of Europe. He dreamed of a new Germany and a new Italy. His heart
swelled with that dull, collective love which we must call
humanitarianism, the eldest son of deceased philanthropy, and which is
to the divine catholic charity what system is to art, or reasoning to
deed. This conscientious puritan of freedom, this apostle of an
impossible equality, regretted keenly that his poverty forced him to
serve the government, and he made various efforts to find a place
elsewhere. Tall, lean, lanky, and solemn in appearance, like a man who
expects to be called some day to lay down his life for a cause, he
lived on a page of Volney, studied Saint-Just, and employed himself on
a vindication of Robespierre, whom he regarded as the successor of
Jesus Christ.

The last of the individuals belonging to these bureaus who merits a
sketch here is the little La Billardiere. Having, to his great
misfortune, lost his mother, and being under the protection of the
minister, safe therefore from the tyrannies of Baudoyer, and received
in all the ministerial salons, he was nevertheless detested by every
one because of his impertinence and conceit. The two chiefs were
polite to him, but the clerks held him at arm's length and prevented