feeling set them up as symbols; they were, by their austere
magnificence, to represent both the splendour of wealth and its
intangible. The old habits of gallantry had been reformed, Tut
fashionable lovers were now secretly replaced by muscular labourers
or stray grooms. Nevertheless, scandals were rare, a foreign journey
concealed nearly all of them, and the Princesses of the Trusts remained
objects of universal esteem.

The rich formed only a small minority, but their collaborators, who
composed the entire people, had been completely won over or completely
subjugated by them. They formed two classes, the agents of commerce or
banking, and workers in the factories. The former contributed an immense
amount of work and received large salaries. Some of them succeeded in
founding establishments of their own; for in the constant increase of
the public wealth the more intelligent and audacious could hope for
anything. Doubtless it would have been possible to find a certain
number of discontented and rebellious persons among the immense crowd of
engineers and accountants, but this powerful society had imprinted its
firm discipline even on the minds of its opponents. The very anarchists
were laborious and regular.

As for the workmen who toiled in the factories that surrounded the
town, their decadence, both physical and moral, was terrible; they were
examples of the type of poverty as it is set forth by anthropology.
Although the development among them of certain muscles, due to the
particular nature of their work, might give a false idea of their
strength, they presented sure signs of morbid debility. Of low stature,
with small heads and narrow chests, they were further distinguished from
the comfortable classes by a multitude of physiological anomalies, and,
in particular, by a common want of symmetry between the head and the