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Updated: May 4, 2025
I adore souvenirs d'enfance. Her eyes were bright with eagerness. 'Oh, she was very pretty. The prettiest little girl I've ever seen. She had the most wonderful eyes deep, deep, into which you could look a hundred miles; you know the sort; dreamy, poetical, sad; oh, lovely eyes. And she used to wear her hair down her back; it was very long, and soft soft as smoke, almost; almost impalpable.
So you know him then!" and the Prince leant forward from the seat which faced them. "An ami d'enfance?" "We used to play cricket and fish and bird's-nest," she said. "Tom my brother Tom was his fag at Eton he is one of my oldest friends dear old Jack." "How fortunate I met him to-night!" "Indeed, yes."
Hence all the insufferable cant about happy infancy, and 'the glorious schoolboy days, which have generally no more foundation in fact than have the 'Chateaux en Espagne' we build up for the future. I wager that the real Amant d'enfance, when he arrives, is not half so great a friend with the fair Amelie as his unworthy shadow.
He quoted a passage from the Journal in his Preface to the "Souvenirs d'Enfance et de Jeunesse," describing it as the saying "d'un penseur distingue, M. Amiel de Geneve." Since then M. Renan has devoted two curious articles to the completed Journal in the Journal des Desbats.
Souvenirs d'Enfance et de Jeunesse. Par Ernest Renan. Guardian, 18th July 1883. The sketches which M. Renan gives us of his early life are what we should have looked for from the writer of the Vie de Jésus. The story of the disintegration of a faith is supposed commonly to have something tragic about it.
Pardon, cherie, sije m'oublie trop; mais c'est si doux de causer avec une amie d'enfance. "At the Tower stairs we stopped to take on board a gentleman in a very fine peach-blossom suit, and with a huge periwig, at which Papillon began to laugh, and had to be chid somewhat harshly. He was a very civil-spoken, friendly person, and he brought with him a lad carrying a viol.
Ernest Renan in his Souvenirs d'Enfance, tells of a Brittany legend, firmly believed in that wild land, of the vanished city of "Is," which ages ago disappeared beneath the waves.
Hence all the insufferable cant about happy infancy, and 'the glorious schoolboy days, which have generally no more foundation in fact than have the 'Chateaux en Espagne' we build up for the future. I wager that the real Amant d'enfance, when he arrives, is not half so great a friend with the fair Amelie as his unworthy shadow.
We were at school together, and like twins, except for the difference in colouring. Ah, les beaux jours d'enfance, Hilda, my love! And you are quite, quite unchanged since the happy days at Madame Haut Ton's. 'Queen Hildegarde' we used to call her then, Miss Merryweather. Yes, indeed! she was the proudest, the most exclusive girl on Murray Hill.
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