In those papers, smelling of tobacco, and covered with writing so vile
as to be almost hieroglyphic, there are suggestions for a fortune, and
forecasts of unerring acumen. There are hints as to certain parts of
America and Asia which have been fully justified, both before and
since Juste and I could set out.
Marcas, like us, was in the most abject poverty. He earned, indeed,
his daily bread, but he had neither linen, clothes, nor shoes. He did
not make himself out any better than he was; his dreams had been of
luxury as well as of power. He did not admit that this was the real
Marcas; he abandoned this person, indeed, to the caprices of life.
What he lived by was the breath of ambition; he dreamed of revenge
while blaming himself for yielding to so shallow a feeling. The true
statesman ought, above all things, to be superior to vulgar passions;
like the man of science. It was in these days of dire necessity that
Marcas seemed to us so great--nay, so terrible; there was something
awful in the gaze which saw another world than that which strikes the
eye of ordinary men. To us he was a subject of contemplation and
astonishment; for the young--which of us has not known it?--the young
have a keen craving to admire; they love to attach themselves, and are
naturally inclined to submit to the men they feel to be superior, as
they are to devote themselves to a great cause.
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