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So he would do well to avoid shops inscribed with the motto, "Ici l'on peut ecrire soi-meme." He is acute enough to deceive an entire congress of diplomatists. In a couple of words, he is a moral half-caste, not quite a fraud, nor entirely genuine. But, hush! he has succeeded already; nobody asks anything further, and every one calls him an illustrious man.

Ernest, if Mamma and pretty Evy had not been so kind to me;" and the child shook her head mournfully, as if she had pitie de soi-meme. "But you won't stay away so long again, will you? Sophy play to-morrow; come to-morrow, and swing Sophy; no nice swinging since you've been gone." While Sophy spoke Evelyn turned half round, as if to hear Maltravers answer; he hesitated, and Evelyn spoke.

Tout notre mal vient de ne pouvoir etre seuls; de la le jeu, le luxe, la dissipation, le vin, les femmes, l'ignorance, la medisance, l'envie, l'oubli de soi-meme et de Dieu. La Bruyere.

Since we have quoted Browning's apparent criticism of the self-revealing poet, it is only fair to quote some of his unquestionably sincere utterances on the other side of the question. "Art," says Aristotle, "is an imitation of life." "L'art, mes enfants," says the modern poet, speaking through the lips of Verlaine, "c'est d'être absolument soi-même."

If you have made his acquaintance, my dear Pelham, I advise you most soberly to look to yourself, for if he doth not steal, beg, or borrow of you, Mr. Howard de Howard will grow fat, and even Mr. Aberton cease to be a fool. And now, most noble Pelham, farewell. Il est plus aise d'etre sage pour les autres que de l'etre pour soi-meme."

At least the Surveillant let me alone on the Soi-Meme topic. After my brief visit to Satan I wallowed in a perfect luxury of dirt. And no one objected. And my fine friends, being my fine friends, understood.

If you have made his acquaintance, my dear Pelham, I advise you most soberly to look to yourself, for if he doth not steal, beg, or borrow of you, Mr. Howard de Howard will grow fat, and even Mr. Aberton cease to be a fool. And now, most noble Pelham, farewell. Il est plus aise d'etre sage pour les autres que de l'etre pour soi-meme."

It was, after all, only natural that she should put off going to bed, for she rarely slept for more than two or three hours. The greater part of that empty time, during which conversation was impossible, she devoted to her books. But she hardly ever found anything to read that she really enjoyed. Of the two thousand volumes she possessed all bound alike, and stamped on the back with her device of a cat she had only read four or five hundred; the rest were impossible. She perpetually complained to Walpole of the extreme dearth of reading matter. In nothing, indeed, is the contrast more marked between that age and ours than in the quantity of books available for the ordinary reader. How the eighteenth century would envy us our innumerable novels, our biographies, our books of travel, all our easy approaches to knowledge and entertainment, our translations, our cheap reprints! In those days, even for a reader of catholic tastes, there was really very little to read. And, of course, Madame du Deffand's tastes were far from catholic they were fastidious to the last degree. She considered that Racine alone of writers had reached perfection, and that only once in Athalie. Corneille carried her away for moments, but on the whole he was barbarous. She highly admired 'quelques centaines de vers de M. de Voltaire. She thought Richardson and Fielding excellent, and she was enraptured by the style but only by the style of Gil Blas. And that was all. Everything else appeared to her either affected or pedantic or insipid. Walpole recommended to her a History of Malta; she tried it, but she soon gave it up it mentioned the Crusades. She began Gibbon, but she found him superficial. She tried Buffon, but he was 'd'une monotonie insupportable; il sait bien ce qu'il sait, mais il ne s'occupe que des bêtes; il faut l'être un peu soi-même pour se dévouer

Also a nightly inspection was instituted; consisting of our being counted thrice by a planton, who then divided the total by three and vanished. Soi-meme reminds me of a pleasant spirit who graced our little company with a good deal of wit and elegance.

"Au reste, ma fille, une de mes grandes envies, ce serait d'etre devote; je ne suis ni an Dieu, ni an Diable; cet etat m'ennuie, quoiqu' entre nous je le trouve le plus naturel du monde. On n'est point an Diable parce qu'on craint Dieu, et qu' an fond on a un principe de religion; on n'est point a Dieu aussi, parce que sa loi paroit dure, et qu' on n'aime point a se detruire soi-meme."