which he was driven. The nature of these straits is an old story all
over the world, and Vauvenargues did the same things that young men in
want of money have generally done. It cannot be said, I fear, that he
passed along those miry ways without some defilement. He bethinks him on
one occasion that a rich neighbour has daughters. 'Why should I not
undertake to marry one of them within two years, with a reasonable
dowry, if he would lend me the money I want and provided I should not
have repaid it by the time fixed?'[6] We must make allowance for the
youth of the writer, and for a different view of marriage and its
significance from our own. Even then there remains something to regret.
Poverty, wrote Vauvenargues, in a maxim smacking unwontedly of
commonplace, cannot debase strong souls, any more than riches can
elevate low souls.[7] That depends. If poverty means pinching and
fretting need of money, it may not debase the soul in any vital sense,
but it is extremely likely to wear away a very priceless kind of
delicacy in a man's estimate of human relations and their import.

Vauvenargues has told us what he found the life of the camp. Luxurious
and indolent living, neglected duties, discontented sighing after the
delights of Paris, the exaltation of rank and mediocrity, an insolent
contempt for merit; these were the characteristics of the men in high
military place. The lower officers meantime were overwhelmed by an
expenditure that the luxury of their superiors introduced and
encouraged; and they were speedily driven to retire by the disorder of
their affairs, or by the impossibility of promotion, because men of
spirit could not long endure the sight of flagrant injustice, and
because those who labour for fame cannot tie themselves to a condition
where there is nothing to be gathered but shame and humiliation.[8]

To these considerations of an extravagant expenditure and the absence of