'With Lavoisier,' I answered.

'You are happy in being rich and free,' he cried; then from the depths of his bosom came the sigh of a man,--one of those sighs which reveal a hell of anguish hidden in the brain or in the heart, a something ardent, concentrated, not to be expressed in words.

He ended his sentence with a look that startled me.

After a pause, he told me that Poland being at her last gasp he had taken refuge in Sweden.

There he had sought consolation for his country's fate in the study of chemistry, for which he had always felt an irresistible vocation.