There had been those who hated the nobles, who cried out against priests, who conspired against kings; abuses and prejudices had been attacked; but all that was not so great a novelty as to see a smiling people.  If a noble or a priest or a sovereign passed, the peasants who had made war possible began to shake their heads and say:  “Ah! when we saw this man in such a time and place he wore a different face.”  And when the throne and altar were mentioned, they replied:  “They are made of four planks of wood; we have nailed them together and torn them apart.”  And when some one said:  “People, you have recovered from the errors which led you astray; you have recalled your kings and your priests,” they replied:  “We have nothing to do with those prattlers.”  And when some one said “People, forget the past, work and obey,” they arose from their seats and a dull jangling could be heard.  It was the rusty and notched sabre in the corner of the cottage chimney.  Then they hastened to add:  “Then keep quiet, at least; if no one harms you, do not seek to harm.”  Alas! they were content with that.

But youth was not content.  It is certain that there are in man two occult powers engaged in a death-struggle:  the one, clear-sighted and cold, is concerned with reality, calculation, weight, and judges the past; the other is athirst for the future and eager for the unknown.  When passion sways man, reason follows him weeping and warning, him of his danger; but when man listens to the voice of reason, when he stops at her request and says:  “What a fool I am; where am I going?” passion calls to him:  “Ah, must I die?”

A feeling of extreme uneasiness began to ferment in all young hearts.  Condemned to inaction by the powers which governed the world, delivered to vulgar pedants of every kind, to idleness and to ennui, the youth saw the foaming billows which they had prepared to meet, subside.  All these gladiators glistening with oil felt in the bottom of their souls an insupportable wretchedness.  The richest became libertines; those of moderate fortune followed some profession and resigned themselves to the sword or to the church.  The poorest gave themselves up with cold enthusiasm to great thoughts, plunged into the frightful sea of aimless effort.  As human weakness seeks association and as men are gregarious by nature, politics became mingled with it.  There were struggles with the ‘garde du corps’ on the steps of the legislative assembly; at the theatre Talma wore a wig which made him resemble Caesar; every one flocked to the burial of a Liberal deputy.

But of the members of the two parties there was not one who, upon returning home, did not bitterly realize the emptiness of his life and the feebleness of his hands.