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Updated: June 25, 2025
The same final judgment, accompanied by a very different series of comments, was pronounced on the Journal a year later by M. Paul Bourget, a young and rising writer, whose article is perhaps chiefly interesting as showing the kind of effect produced by Amiel's thought on minds of a type essentially alien from his own.
And so it was that he was heart and soul with the insurgents when, on the 31st of October, tidings of disaster came pouring in on them in quick succession: the loss of Bourget, that had been captured from the enemy only a few days before by a dashing surprise; M. Thiers' return to Versailles from his visit to the European capitals, prepared to treat for peace, so it was said, in the name of Napoleon III.; and finally the capitulation of Metz, rumors of which had previously been current and which was now confirmed, the last blow of the bludgeon, another Sedan, only attended by circumstances of blacker infamy.
In vain Bellemare's officers went here and there. They were sent from pillar to post, from one aged General to another, and at eleven o'clock on the day when Bourget was taken, after the troops had been driven out of it, the artillery, every formality having been gone through, was on its way to the village.
In the forts they are perfectly cool under the heaviest fire, and both at Le Bourget and at Chatillon they fought like heroes. "Ten thousand of them," observed a general to me the other day, "are worth more than the whole National Guards." The bombardment still continues.
He is then a naturalist observing a bug, with no more than a naturalist's chance of being able to tell the bug anything new about itself, and no more than a naturalist's chance of being able to teach it any new ways which it will prefer to its own. To return to that first question. M. Bourget, as teacher, would simply be France teaching America.
"You are fully entitled to know where you are going, and I have not the smallest desire to keep it from you," I replied, still speaking in a smooth, courteous voice. "I propose that you should take up your residence for a time the very shortest time possible at Le Bourget, a small place at the head of the lake. You may know it; there is a snug little hotel in the village, the Dent du Chat.
They stopped with their plunder at an isolated house belonging to the Chaussard brothers, where the Chaussards' uncle, one Bourget, lived, who was knowing to the whole plot from its inception. This old man, aided by his wife, welcomed the brigands, charged them to make no noise, unloaded the bags of money, and gave the men something to drink. The wife performed the part of sentinel.
The eye next overlooking the barrier of mountains, ranged through immense tracts of distant countries; the plains where Lyons is situated; the woodlands and lakes of Savoy; amongst which that of Bourget was near enough to discover its beauties, all glowing with the warm haze of the setting sun.
Where would you find an author like Bourget among the English? Which of them could have written 'Mensonges'? Which of them could " "I know, dear, I know! They haven't the bite. That is what you mean. They have only the bark." "Exactly! And when one sits down to a book " "Just so, dear. The dog that can only bark is a very dull dog.
From the batteries at Bondy and Avron there has been some sharp firing, the object of which has been to oblige the Prussians to keep inside the Forest of Bondy, and to disquiet them whenever they take to digging anywhere outside it. The plain of Avron is a very important position as it commands the whole country round. The end of Le Bourget, towards Paris appears entirely deserted.
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