The college school at Vendome possesses a literary society whose
membership is confined to the Greats, and which gives performances of
scenes from tragedies and comedies, poetic recitations, etc. Honore
conceived the ambition to have some writing of his own produced by this
society. He practised rhyming, composed poems, and undertook an epic,
one line of which has remained famous,

"O Inca! luckless and unhappy king,"

for it made him the butt and by-word of the entire school. He was
nicknamed "The Poet," and laughed at for his formless efforts. The
director of the school, M. Mareschal, told him a fable, with the
charitable intent of turning him aside from his ambitions. There was
once upon a time a young linnet in a soft and downy nest; but the young
linnet longed for the free and open air and the blue sky. Its wings had
not yet grown, and yet the imprudent bird made up its mind to fly. What
happened? Why, simply that the young linnet fell from the tree in which
the nest was built, and hurt itself pitifully. Warning to poets who
presume too far upon their powers. Honore disregarded the fable, just
as he had disregarded reproofs, mockery and punishment, and burrowed
deeper than ever into the Oratorian library, in a sort of somber
phrensy. He neglected his studies and assigned tasks for the sake of
the secret and forbidden work that constituted what he called later on,
in Louis Lambert, his contraband studies. Although he continued to
write poetry, his mind as it ripened and gathered strength in its
singular solitude aspired to still loftier works, based upon
metaphysics and pure reason.

While his comrades translated Virgil and Demosthenes, he had begun to