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called Gelis was a student at the Ecole des Chartes。 From the conversation
which followed I was able to learn that his neighbor； blond and wan
almost to diaphaneity； taciturn and sarcastic was Boulmier； a fellow
student。 Gelis and the future doctor （I hope he will become one some day）
discoursed together with much fantasy and spirit。 In the midst of the
loftiest speculations they would play upon words； and make jokes after the
peculiar fashion of really witty personsthat is to say； in a style of
enormous absurdity。 I need hardly say； I suppose； that they only deigned to
maintain the most monstrous kind of paradoxes。 They employed all their
powers of imagination to make themselves as ludicrous as possible； and all
their powers of reasoning to assert the contrary of common sense。 All the
better for them！ I do not like to see young folks too rational。
The student of medicine； after glancing at the title of the book that
Boulmier held in his hand； exclaimed；
〃What！you read Micheletyou？〃
〃Yes；〃 replied Boulmier； very gravely。 〃I like novels。〃
Gelis； who dominated both by his fine stature； imperious gestures； and
ready wit； took the book； turned over a few pages rapidly； and said；
〃Michelet always had a great propensity to emotional tenderness。 He
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wept sweet tears over Maillard； that nice little man introduced la
paperasserie into the September massacres。 But as emotional tenderness
leads to fury； he becomes all at once furious against the victims。 There was
no help for it。 It is the sentimentality of the age。 The assassin is pitied； but
the victim is considered quite unpardonable。 In his later manner Michelet
is more Michelet than ever before。 There is no common sense in it； it is
simply wonderful！ Neither art nor science； neither criticism nor narrative；
only furies and fainting…spells and epileptic fits over matters which he
never deigns to explain。 Childish outcriesenvies de femme grosse！and a
style； my friends！not a single finished phrase！ It is astounding！〃
And he handed the book back to his comrade。 〃This is amusing
madness；〃 I thought to myself； 〃and not quite so devoid of common sense
as it appears。 This young man； though only playing has sharply touched
the defect in the cuirass。〃
But the Provencal student declared that history was a thoroughly
despicable exercise of rhetoric。 According to him； the only true history
was the natural history of man。 Michelet was in the right path when he
came in contact with the fistula of Louis XIV。； but he fell back into the old
rut almost immediately afterwards。
After this judicious expression of opinion； the young physiologist went
to join a party of passing friends。 The two archivists； less well acquainted
in the neighbourhood of a garden so far from the Rue Paradis…au…Marais；
remained together； and began to chat about their studies。 Gelis； who had
completed his third class…year； was preparing a thesis on the subject of
which he expatiated with youthful enthusiasm。 Indeed； I thought the
subject a very good one； particularly because I had recently thought
myself called upon to treat a notable part of it。 It was the Monasticon
Gallicanum。 The young erudite （I give him the name as a presage） wanted
to describe all the engravings made about 1690 for the work which Dom
Michel Germain would have had printed but for the one irremediable
hindrance which is rarely foreseen and never avoided。 Dom Michel
Germain would have had printed but for the one irremediable hindrance
which is rarely foreseen and never avoided。 Dom Michel Germain left his
manuscript complete； however； and in good order when he died。 Shall I be
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
able to do as much with mine？but that is not the present question。 So far
as I am able to understand； Monsieur Gelis intends to devote a brief
archaeological notice to each of the abbeys pictured by the humble
engravers of Dom Michel Germain。
His friend asked him whether he was acquainted with all the
manuscripts and printed documents relating to the subject。 It was then that
I pricked up my ears。 They spoke at first of original sources； and I must
confess they did so in a satisfactory manner； despite their innumerable and
detestable puns。 Then they began to speak about contemporary studies on
the subject。
〃Have you read；〃 asked Boulmier； 〃the notice of Courajod？〃
〃Good！〃 I thought to myself。
〃Yes；〃 replied Gelis； 〃it is accurate。〃
〃Have you read；〃 said Boulmier； 〃the article of Tamisey de Larroque in
the 'Revue des Questions Historiques'？〃
〃Good！〃 I thought to myself； for the second time。
〃Yes；〃 replied Gelis； 〃it is full of things。〃。。。
〃Have you read；〃 said Boulmier； 〃the 'Tableau des Abbayes
Benedictines en 1600；' by Sylvestre Bonnard？〃
〃Good！〃 I said to myself； for the third time。
〃Mai foi！ no！〃 replied Gelis。 〃Bonnard is an idiot！〃 Turning my head； I
perceived that the shadow had reached the place where I was sitting。 It
was growing chilly； and I thought to myself what a fool I was to have
remained sitting there； at the risk of getting rheumatism； just to listen to
the impertinence of those two young fellows！
〃Well！ well！〃 I said to myself as I got up。 〃Let this prattling fledgling
write his thesis and sustain it！ He will find my colleague； Quicherat； or
some other professor at the school； to show him what an ignoramus he is。 I
consider him neither more nor less than a rascal； and really； now that I
come to think of it； what he said about Michelet awhile ago was quite
insufferable； outrageous！ To talk in that way about an old master replete
with genius！ It was simply abominable！〃
April 17。
〃Therese； give me my new hat； my best frock…coat； and my silver…
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headed cane。〃
But Therese is deaf as a sack of charcoal and slow as Justice。 Years
have made her so。 The worst is that she thinks she can hear well and move
about well； and； proud of her sixty years of upright domesticity； she serves
her old master with the most vigilant despotism。
〃What did I tell you？〃 。。。And now she will not give me my silver…
headed cane； for fear that I might lose it！ It is true that I often forget
umbrellas and walking…sticks in the omnibuses and booksellers' shops。 But
I have a special reason for wanting to take out with me to…day my old cane
with the engraved silver head representing Don Quixote charging a
windmill； lance in rest； while Sancho Panza； with uplifted arms； vainly
conjures him to a stop。 That cane is all that came to me from the heritage
of my uncle； Captain Victor； who in his lifetime resembled Don Quixote
much more than Sancho Panza； and who