the stones of the parapet, that all along the quays stimulate book
lovers with posters saying, "Four Sous--Six Sous--Ten Sous--Twelve
Sous--Thirty Sous?" These catacombs of glory have devoured many hours
that belonged to the poets, to the philosophers and to the men of
science of Paris.

Great is the number of ten-sous pieces spent in the four-sous stalls!

The professor saw a pamphlet by Vicq-d'Azyr, a complete Charles Bonnet
in the edition of Fauche Borel, and an essay on Malus.

"And such then is the sum of our achievements," he said to himself.
"Malus! A genius arrested in his course when he had almost captured
the empire of light! But we have had Fresnel. Fresnel has done
excellent things!--Oh, they will recognize some day that light is only
a mode of substance."

The professor held the notice on Malus. He turned its pages. He had
known Malus. He recalled to himself and recited the names of all the
Maluses. Then he returned to Malus, to his dear Malus, for they had
entered the Institute together at the return to Paris of the
expedition to Egypt. Ah! It was then the Institute of France and not a
mass of disunited Academies.

"The Emperor had preserved," said Marmus to himself, "the saintly idea
of the Convention. I remember," he muttered aloud, "what he said to me
when I was presented to him as a member of the Institute. Napoleon the
First said, 'Marmus, I am the Emperor of the French, but you are the
King of the infinitely little and you will organize them as I have
organized the Empire.' Ah, he was a very great man and a man of wit!