wonderful events which were to end on the morrow in the advent of the
most singular of "new boys." Games were at an end. All the children
came round in silence to hear the story of Louis Lambert, discovered,
like an aerolite, by Madame de Stael, in a corner of the wood.
Monsieur Haugoult had to tell us all about Madame de Stael; that
evening she seemed to me ten feet high; I saw at a later time the
picture of Corinne, in which Gerard represents her as so tall and
handsome; and, alas! the woman painted by my imagination so far
transcended this, that the real Madame de Stael fell at once in my
estimation, even after I read her book of really masculine power, _De
l'Allemagne_.

But Lambert at that time was an even greater wonder. Monsieur
Mareschal, the headmaster, after examining him, had thought of placing
him among the senior boys. It was Louis' ignorance of Latin that
placed him so low as the fourth class, but he would certainly leap up
a class every year; and, as a remarkable exception, he was to be one
of the "Academy." _Proh pudor_! we were to have the honor of counting
among the "little boys" one whose coat was adorned with the red ribbon
displayed by the "Academicians" of Vendome. These Academicians enjoyed
distinguished privileges; they often dined at the director's table,
and held two literary meetings annually, at which we were all present
to hear their elucubrations. An Academician was a great man in embryo.
And if every Vendome scholar would speak the truth, he would confess
that, in later life, an Academician of the great French Academy seemed
to him far less remarkable than the stupendous boy who wore the cross
and the imposing red ribbon which were the insignia of our "Academy."

It was very unusual to be one of that illustrious body before
attaining to the second class, for the Academicians were expected to