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DEBRIS FROM THE REVOLUTION.
De Camors, on leaving college had entered upon life with a heart swelling with the virtues of youth--confidence, enthusiasm, sympathy.
The horrible neglect of his early education had not corrupted in his veins those germs of weakness which, as his father declared, his mother's milk had deposited there; for that father, by shutting him up in a college to get rid of him for twelve years, had rendered him the greatest service in his power.
Those classic prisons surely do good.

The healthy discipline of the school; the daily contact of young, fresh hearts; the long familiarity with the best works, powerful intellects, and great souls of the ancients--all these perhaps may not inspire a very rigid morality, but they do inspire a certain sentimental ideal of life and of duty which has its value.
The vague heroism which Camors first conceived he brought away with him.
He demanded nothing, as you may remember, but the practical formula for the time and country in which he was destined to live.

He found, doubtless, that the task he set himself was more difficult than he had imagined; that the truth to which he would devote himself--but which he must first draw from the bottom of its well--did not stand upon many compliments.

But he failed no preparation to serve her valiantly as a man might, as soon as she answered his appeal.