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e pupils themselves were often cruel to each other。
It was here that Honore de Balzac formed his own character； alone； and suffered alone； sensitive and repressed child that he was。 From the very first months of the sojourn in the College of Vendome； he was classed among the apathetic and lazy pupils； among those of whom nothing could be made； who would never be an honour to the school that trained them and could be ignored excepting for the purposes of punishment。 Honore had an insurmountable aversion for all the required tasks； he was indifferent to the charms of Greek themes or Latin translations； and history alone had the power of stirring him and awakening his appetite for knowledge。 He was habitually sluggish and stupid in the eyes of his masters； but what a formidable； unknown work was going on in the brain of this child！
We may picture him in the classroom； during study hour； leaning on his left elbow and holding an open book with his right hand； while he rubs his shoes one against the other； with a mechanical movement。 What is he reading？ Morality in Action and in Example。 His obscure desires are taking definite form。 To become a great man； a hero； one of those whose names are transmitted from age to age； such from choice will be his own destiny。 He seizes his pen and rapidly writes 〃Balzac； Balzac； Balzac〃 over all the white margins of the book on morality。 （This book passed into the possession of M。 Jules Claretie。） Then once more he leans upon his elbow； gazing out of the window at a corner of verdure which he can just glimpse； and forthwith he is off again in one of his interminable reveries。
The harsh voice of his teacher interrupts him：
〃You are doing nothing； M。 Balzac。〃
The boy falls back from his dreams into the classroom。 The reproof has hurt him keenly。 He fixes his magnetic black eyes upon the teacher。 Is it bitterness； disdain or anger towards him for having destroyed those fruitful meditations？ At all events； the teacher feels something like a shock。 He says：
〃If you look at me like that； M。 Balzac； you will receive the ferrule。〃
The ferrule！ The thong of leather that cut so painfully when it fell with dreaded rhythm； one； two； three； on the tips of the fingers or the palm of the hand。
Punishments rained heavily on Balzac； the bad pupil； who seems to have been perpetually in disgrace over his tasks and lessons。 These punishments included the extra copying of lines in such numbers that he has been declared the inventor of the three…pointed pen； and then there was imprisonment in the dormitory； 〃the wooden breeches；〃 as it was called in the college； and where he remained for weeks at a time。 Whether he suffered from these punishments and from the contempt of his teachers； Honore at least never complained； for whatever left his mind free to follow its own self…cultivation was a welcome opportunity。
He had a tutor； the librarian of the rich Oratorian library； who during those rare recreation hours； when he had no extra lines to copy； was supposed to give him special lessons in mathematics。 But by a tacit agreement the teacher paid no attention to the pupil； and the latter was permitted to read and carry away any books which took his fancy。 In point of fact； no book seemed to him too austere or too repellent or too obscure for his youthful understanding。 He absorbed pell…mell works upon religion； treatises of chemistry and physics； and historical and philosophical works。 He even developed a special taste for dictionaries； dreaming over the exact sense of words； the adventures that befall them in the course of time and their final destinies。
〃The absorption of ideas through reading had become in his case a curious phenomenon；〃 so Honore de Balzac has recorded in Louis Lambert； in which he has painted in the person of his hero his own formative years in the college school of Vendome。 〃His eye would take in seven or eight lines at once； and his mind would grasp the meaning with a velocity equal to that of his glance； sometimes even a single word in a phrase was enough to give him the essence of it。 His memory was prodigious。 He retained thoughts acquired through reading with the same fidelity as those suggested to him in the course of reflection or conversation。 In short； he possessed every kind of memory： that of places； of names； of things； and of faces。 Not only could he recall objects at will； but he could see them again within himself under the same conditions of position and light and colour as they had been at the moment when he first perceived them。 This same power applied equally to the most intangible processes of the understanding。 He could remember； according to his own expression； not merely the exact spot from which he had gleaned a thought in any given book； but also the conditions of his own mind at far…off periods。 By an undreamed…of privilege； his memory could thus retrace the progress and entire life history of his mind from the earliest acquired ideas down to the latest ones to unfold； from the most confused down to the most lucid。 His brain； which while still young was habituated to the difficult mechanism of the concentration of human forces； drew from this rich storehouse a multitude of images admirable for their reality and freshness； and which supplied him with mental nutriment through all his periods of clear…sighted contemplation。〃
Such was the mental condition of Honore at the time when he was regarded by his masters as a dullard； a mediocre pupil who might as well be left to reap the consequences of his own laziness。 Clad in his grey uniform； ill shod and with hands red and swollen from chilblains； he held aloof from his comrades； indifferent alike to their games and their taunts。 The ruddy colour of well…rounded cheeks； due to long walks in the open air of the countryside around Tours； had disappeared and his face was now as white and delicate as a young girl's； while his eyes had become blacker and more mysterious than ever。
Honore de Balzac received visits from his parents at Easter and at the time of the distribution of prizes。 It was a joyous occasion； long awaited by the boy； who retained the warmest affection for his family。 But his joy was short…lived。 The pupil Balzac had won no prizes； he had received black marks； he had done no work； consequently； instead of the loving greeting that he expected； he was met only with words of disappointment and censure； he was told that he did not appreciate the sacrifices that were being made to educate him； he was idle and lazy； they hoped that next year he would do better and at last give them some little satisfaction。
Honore listened to these reproofs with bowed head； and probably he made promises； in his desire to bring a smile to their faces and to receive some of those endearments that he had hungered for； through long days of solitude。 But each year he again took up his interrupted dream； more laboriously and more fiercely than before。
The college school at Vendome possesses a literary society whose membership is confined to the Greats； and which gives performances of scenes from tragedies and comedies； poetic recitations； etc。 Honore conceived the ambition to have some writing of his own produced by this society。 He practised rhyming； composed poems； and undertook an epic； one line of which has remained famous；
〃O Inca！ luckless and unhappy king；〃
for it made him the butt and by…word of the entire school。 He was nicknamed 〃The Poet；〃 and laughed at for his formless efforts。 The director of the school； M。 Mareschal； told him a fable； with the charitable intent of turning him aside from his ambitions。 There was once upon a time a young linnet in a soft and downy nest； but the young linnet longed for the free and open air and the blue sky。 Its wings had not yet grown； and yet the imprudent bird made up its mind to fly。 What happened？ Why； simply that the young linnet fell from the tree in which the nest was built； and hurt itself pitifully。 Warning to poets who presume too far upon their powers。 Honore disregarded the fable； just as he had disregarded reproofs； mockery and punishment； and burrowed deeper than ever into the Oratorian library； in a sort of somber phrensy。 He neglected his studies and assigned tasks for the sake of the secret and forbidden work that constituted what he called later on； in Louis Lambert； his contraband studies。 Although he continued to write poetry； his mind as it ripened and gathered strength in its singular solitude aspired to still loftier works； based upon metaphysics and pure reason。
While his comrades translated Virgil and Demosthenes； he had begun to write a Treatise upon the Will； a symbolic work which contained the germs of his entire destiny。 His fellow students； rendered curious by his sustained application； continuing month after month； tried in vain to steal glimpses over his shoulder； but Honore de Balzac would permit no profane eye to fall upon his manuscript。 He eluded their persistence and entrusted the precious pages to a box which he could secure under lock and key。 A conspiracy was formed。 They wanted to know what he had been writing all this time with such serious intent that nothing could take his attention from it。 During a recreation period Ho