and brushed aside all the reminders that were left of them, and
God in his infinite mercy allows flowers and grasses to grow again
on this bloody ground. Don't think that by these flowers, I mean
to say that one forgets. No, on the contrary, I am thinking of
remembrance, the remembrance of the victory that has been won
after so many sacrifices; I am thinking of all those voices of the
conscience which come to soothe us, and to tell us that our Father
in Heaven is satisfied with what we have done."

A person who had intimately known both Balzac and my aunt said one day
that they completed each other by the wide difference which existed in
their opinions in regard to the two important subjects of religion and
politics. The remark was profoundly true, because it was this very
difference which allowed them to bring into their judgments an
impartiality which we seldom meet with in our modern society. They
mutually respected and admired each other, and even when they were not
in perfect accord, or just because they were not in perfect accord as
to this or that thing, they nevertheless tried, thanks to the respect
which they entertained for each other, to look upon mankind, its
actions, follies and mistakes, with kindness and indulgence. The
curious thing in regard to their situation was that my aunt who had
been born and reared in one of the most select and prejudiced of
aristocratic circles, never knew what prejudice was, and remained
until the last day of her life a staunch liberal, who could never
bring herself to ostracize her neighbor, because he happened to think
or to believe otherwise than she did herself. She was perfectly
indifferent to advantages of birth, fortune or high rank, and she was
rather inclined to criticize than to admire the particular society and
world amidst which she moved. Balzac on the contrary, though a
_bourgeois_ by origin, cared only for those high spheres for which he