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which absorbed all his moments as well as his thoughts, he
hardly saw the Gillenormands at all. He made his appear-
ance at meals; then they searched for him, and he was not to
be found. Father Gillenormand smiled. ‘Bah! bah! He is just
of the age for the girls!’ Sometimes the old man added: ‘The
deuce! I thought it was only an affair of gallantry, It seems
that it is an affair of passion!’
It was a passion, in fact. Marius was on the high road to
adoring his father.
At the same time, his ideas underwent an extraordinary
change. The phases of this change were numerous and suc-
cessive. As this is the history of many minds of our day, we
think it will prove useful to follow these phases step by step
and to indicate them all.
That history upon which he had just cast his eyes ap-
palled him.
The first effect was to dazzle him.
Up to that time, the Republic, the Empire, had been to
him only monstrous words. The Republic, a guillotine in
the twilight; the Empire, a sword in the night. He had just
taken a look at it, and where he had expected to find only
a chaos of shadows, he had beheld, with a sort of unprec-
edented surprise, mingled with fear and joy, stars sparkling,
Mirabeau, Vergniaud, Saint-Just, Robespierre, Camille,
Desmoulins, Danton, and a sun arise, Napoleon. He did not
know where he stood. He recoiled, blinded by the brilliant
lights. Little by little, when his astonishment had passed
off, he grew accustomed to this radiance, he contemplated
these deeds without dizziness, he examined these personag-