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Updated: June 5, 2025
I took up a volume of La Rochefoucauld, which was lying on the table near grandmamma's copy and I chanced to open it at this maxim: "On n'est jamais si heureux ni si malheureux qu'on s'imagine."
"Ah malheureux, you're lost!" the painter had exclaimed in answer to this, and without even taking the trouble to explain his ominous speech. Gaston Probert however had not been frightened by it, and he continued to be thankful for the sensitive plate that nature had lodged in his brain and that culture had brought to so high a polish.
I remembered in this abode a passage in one of the best letters ever written by Rousseau, and addressed to Voltaire, on the subject of his poem, entitled Sur la Loi Naturelle, et sur le Désastre de Lisbonne; in which, referring to an assertion of Voltaire's that few persons would wish to live over again on the condition of enduring the same trials, and which Rousseau combats by urging that it is only the rich, fatigued by their pleasures, or literary men, of whom he writes "Des gens de lettres, de tous les ordres d'hommes le plus sédentaire, le plus malsain, le plus réfléchissant, et, par conséquent, le plus malheureux," who would decline to live over again, had they the power.
Mademoiselle, if you would but have your portrait painted as you are, with your hand on the post, by Sargent or Carolus Duran, there would be some noise in the Salon." "Is that you, Vicomte?" came a voice from the foot of the stairs Mrs. Holt's voice. "I come this instant, Madame," he replied, looking over the banisters, and added: "malheureux que je suis!
Cloud, where he found Blücher and his staff in possession: "The great hall was a common guard-house, in which the Prussians were drinking, spitting, smoking, and sleeping in all directions." Denon complained greatly of the Prussians and said he was "malheureux to have to do with a bête féroce, un animal indécrottable, le Prince Blücher."
I could not, exactly, go round asking people to "pity the sorrows of a disappointed lover!" As Lamartine sings in his "Tear of Consolation": "Qu'importe a ces hommes mes freres Le coeur brise d'un malheureux? Trop au-dessus de mes miseres, Mon infortune est si loin d'eux!" How could I implore sympathy? Would you have given me yours?
Poor Peters, he's a fine fellow, you know; but this business of living in the muck and filth, c'est malheureux. Besides, Peters is an old man. It's a dirty bloody shame, that's what it is. A bloody shame that all of us here should be forced to live like pigs with this scum! "I tell you what, Mr. We've lived together and suffered together and I'm not a man to forget it.
It is, nevertheless, melancholy to observe the traces of devastation visible in all directions: the people themselves appear not to regard it, but this may arise partly from the long and habitual feelings generated by the scenes to which the Revolution daily gave rise, and partly from the constitutional cheerfulness of the natives, who seldom view objects through the same dark medium that ours are supposed to do, and who, though they are not celebrated for patience, are of all mankind the least liable to despondency. When I spoke to M. Boderie of my regret at the destruction of an ancient structure like the one in question, his answer was, immediately, "oui c'est bien malheureux; mais enfin que voulez-vous?" He was "desolé" or had "le coeur très sensible
The circumstance of this letter falling into my hands has forcibly reminded me of these lines of Bertaut: “‘Malheureuse est l’ignorance Et plus malheureux le savoir.” “Having through this lost a confidence which alone rendered life supportable to me, it is impossible for me to take the journey so much thought of.
Other operas followed in rapid succession, among which may be mentioned "La Dot de Suzette" and "Le Calife de Bagdad" . The latter of these was remarkably popular, and drew from the severe Cherubim the following rebuke: "Malheureux! Are you not ashamed of such undeserved triumph?"
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