of man, who was possessed of neither instinct nor reason, and who had never heard nor spoken any kind of articulate speech?  It seemed difficult to expend any regrets over the poor wretch now visibly drawing towards the very end of an existence which had not been life in any sense of the word; yet the old woman watched him with touching anxiety, and was rubbing his legs where the hot water did not reach them with as much tenderness as if he had been her husband.  Benassis himself, after a close scrutiny of the dull eyes and corpse-like face, gently took the cretin’s hand and felt his pulse.

“The bath is doing no good,” he said, shaking his head; “let us put him to bed again.”

He lifted the inert mass himself, and carried him across to the truckle-bed, from whence, no doubt, he had just taken him.  Carefully he laid him at full length, and straightened the limbs that were growing cold already, putting the head and hand in position, with all the heed that a mother could bestow upon her child.

“It is all over, death is very near,” added Benassis, who remained standing by the bedside.

The old woman gazed at the dying form, with her hands on her hips.  A few tears stole down her cheeks.  Genestas remained silent.  He was unable to explain to himself how it was that the death of a being that concerned him so little should affect him so much.  Unconsciously he shared the feeling of boundless pity that these hapless creatures excite among the dwellers in the sunless valleys wherein Nature has placed them.  This sentiment has degenerated into a kind of religious superstition in families to which cretins belong; but does it not spring from the most beautiful of Christian virtues—­from charity, and from a belief in a reward hereafter, that most effectual support of our social system, and the one thought that enables us to endure our miseries?  The hope of inheriting eternal bliss helps the relations of these unhappy creatures and all others round about them to exert on a large scale, and with sublime devotion, a mother’s ceaseless protecting care over an apathetic creature who does not understand it in the first instance, and who in a little while forgets it all.  Wonderful power of religion! that has brought a blind beneficence to the aid of an equally blind misery.  Wherever cretins exist, there is a popular belief that the presence of one of these creatures brings luck to a family—­a superstition that serves to sweeten lives which, in the midst of a town population, would be condemned by a mistaken philanthropy to submit to the harsh discipline of an asylum.  In the higher end of the valley of Isere, where cretins are very numerous, they lead an out-of-door life with the cattle which they are taught to herd.  There, at any rate, they are at large, and receive the reverence due to misfortune.