are base born. No, I have some savings left yet. War to society, war to
the knife!"

"Monnier," said Lebeau, in a voice that evinced emotion, "listen to me: I
have received injuries from society which, when they were fresh, half-
maddened me--that is twenty years ago. I would then have thrown myself
into any plot against society that proffered revenge; but society, my
friend, is a wall of very strong masonry, as it now stands; it may be
sapped in the course of a thousand years, but stormed in a day--no. You
dash your head against it--you scatter your brains, and you dislodge a
stone. Society smiles in scorn, effaces the stain, and replaces the
stone. I no longer war against society. I do war against a system in
that society which is hostile to me--systems in France are easily
overthrown. I say this because I want to use you, and I do not want to
deceive."

"Deceive me, bah! You are an honest man," cried Monnier; and he seized
Lebeau's hand, and shook it with warmth and vigour.

"But for you I should have been a mere grumbler. No doubt I should have
cried out where the shoe pinched, and railed against laws that vex me;
but from the moment you first talked to me I became a new man. You
taught me to act, as Rousseau and Madame de Grantmesnil had taught me to
think and to feel. There is my brother, a grumbler too, but professes to
have a wiser head than mine. He is always warning me against you--
against joining a strike--against doing any thing to endanger my skin.
I always went by his advice till you taught me that it was well enough
for women to talk and complain; men should dare and do."

"Nevertheless," said Lebeau, "your brother is a safer counsellor to a