How many things have not people been proud of
     How rich we find ourselves when we rummage in old drawers
     Husband who loves you and eats off the same plate is better
     I would give two summers for a single autumn
     I do not accept the hypothesis of a world made for us
     I came here for that express purpose
     I am not wandering through life, I am marching on
     Ignorant of everything, undesirous of learning anything
     In his future arrange laurels for a little crown for your own
     It (science) dreams, too; it supposes
     It is silly to blush under certain circumstances
     Learned to love others by embracing their own children
     Life is not so sweet for us to risk ourselves in it singlehanded
     Love in marriage is, as a rule, too much at his ease
     Man is but one of the links of an immense chain
     Rather do not give—­make yourself sought after
     Reckon yourself happy if in your husband you find a lover
     Recollection of past dangers to increase the present joy
     Respect him so that he may respect you
     Shelter himself in the arms of the weak and recover courage
     Sometimes like to deck the future in the garments of the past
     The heart requires gradual changes
     The future that is rent away
     The recollection of that moment lasts for a lifetime
     The future promises, it is the present that pays
     Their love requires a return
     There are pious falsehoods which the Church excuses
     Ties that unite children to parents are unloosed
     Ties which unite parents to children are broken
     To be able to smoke a cigar without being sick
     To love is a great deal—­To know how to love is everything
     We are simple to this degree, that we do not think we are
     When time has softened your grief
     Why mankind has chosen to call marriage a man-trap

PRINCE ZILAH

By Jules Claretie

With a Preface by Compte d’Haussonville of the French Academy

JULES CLARETIE

Arsene Arnaud Claretie (commonly called Jules), was born on December 3, 1840, at Limoges, the picturesque and smiling capital of Limousin.  He has been rightly called the “Roi de la Chronique” and the “Themistocle de la Litterature Contemporaine.”  In fact, he has written, since early youth, romances, drama, history, novels, tales, chronicles, dramatic criticism, literary criticism, military correspondence, virtually everything!  He was elected to the French Academy in 1888.