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ute counsels of passion。 He never said to himself：
〃What if I were to go to such a place？ What if I were to try such and such a thing？〃
The girl whom he could no longer call Ursule was evidently somewhere； nothing warned Marius in what direction he should seek her。
His whole life was now summed up in two words； absolute uncertainty within an impenetrable fog。 To see her once again； he still aspired to this； but he no longer expected it。
To crown all； his poverty had returned。
He felt that icy breath close to him； on his heels。
In the midst of his torments； and long before this； he had discontinued his work； and nothing is more dangerous than discontinued work； it is a habit which vanishes。 A habit which is easy to get rid of； and difficult to take up again。
A certain amount of dreaming is good； like a narcotic in discreet doses。 It lulls to sleep the fevers of the mind at labor； which are sometimes severe； and produces in the spirit a soft and fresh vapor which corrects the over…harsh contours of pure thought； fills in gaps here and there； binds together and rounds off the angles of the ideas。
But too much dreaming sinks and drowns。 Woe to the brain…worker who allows himself to fall entirely from thought into revery！
He thinks that he can re…ascend with equal ease； and he tells himself that； after all； it is the same thing。
Error！
Thought is the toil of the intelligence； revery its voluptuousness。 To replace thought with revery is to confound a poison with a food。
Marius had begun in that way； as the reader will remember。 Passion had supervened and had finished the work of precipitating him into chimaeras without object or bottom。
One no longer emerges from one's self except for the purpose of going off to dream。 Idle production。
Tumultuous and stagnant gulf。
And； in proportion as labor diminishes； needs increase。
This is a law。
Man； in a state of revery； is generally prodigal and slack； the unstrung mind cannot hold life within close bounds。
There is； in that mode of life； good mingled with evil； for if enervation is baleful； generosity is good and healthful。 But the poor man who is generous and noble； and who does not work； is lost。
Resources are exhausted； needs crop up。
Fatal declivity down which the most honest and the firmest as well as the most feeble and most vicious are drawn； and which ends in one of two holds； suicide or crime。
By dint of going outdoors to think； the day es when one goes out to throw one's self in the water。
Excess of revery breeds men like Escousse and Lebras。
Marius was descending this declivity at a slow pace； with his eyes fixed on the girl whom he no longer saw。
What we have just written seems strange； and yet it is true。
The memory of an absent being kindles in the darkness of the heart； the more it has disappeared； the more it beams； the gloomy and despairing soul sees this light on its horizon； the star of the inner night。
Shethat was Marius' whole thought。
He meditated of nothing else； he was confusedly conscious that his old coat was being an impossible coat； and that his new coat was growing old； that his shirts were wearing out； that his hat was wearing out； that his boots were giving out； and he said to himself：
〃If I could but see her once again before I die！〃
One sweet idea alone was left to him； that she had loved him； that her glance had told him so； that she did not know his name； but that she did know his soul； and that； wherever she was； however mysterious the place； she still loved him perhaps。 Who knows whether she were not thinking of him as he was thinking of her？
Sometimes； in those inexplicable hours such as are experienced by every heart that loves； though he had no reasons for anything but sadness and yet felt an obscure quiver of joy； he said to himself： 〃It is her thoughts that are ing to me！〃
Then he added： 〃Perhaps my thoughts reach her also。〃
This illusion； at which he shook his head a moment later； was sufficient； nevertheless； to throw beams； which at times resembled hope； into his soul。
From time to time； especially at that evening hour which is the most depressing to even the dreamy； he allowed the purest； the most impersonal； the most ideal of the reveries which filled his brain； to fall upon a notebook which contained nothing else。
He called this 〃writing to her。〃
It must not be supposed that his reason was deranged。 Quite the contrary。
He had lost the faculty of working and of moving firmly towards any fixed goal； but he was endowed with more clear…sightedness and rectitude than ever。
Marius surveyed by a calm and real； although peculiar light； what passed before his eyes； even the most indifferent deeds and men； he pronounced a just criticism on everything with a sort of honest dejection and candid disinterestedness。
His judgment； which was almost wholly disassociated from hope； held itself aloof and soared on high。
In this state of mind nothing escaped him； nothing deceived him； and every moment he was discovering the foundation of life； of humanity； and of destiny。
Happy； even in the midst of anguish； is he to whom God has given a soul worthy of love and of unhappiness！ He who has not viewed the things of this world and the heart of man under this double light has seen nothing and knows nothing of the true。
The soul which loves and suffers is in a state of sublimity。
However； day followed day； and nothing new presented itself。 It merely seemed to him； that the sombre space which still remained to be traversed by him was growing shorter with every instant。 He thought that he already distinctly perceived the brink of the bottomless abyss。
〃What！〃 he repeated to himself； 〃shall I not see her again before then！〃
When you have ascended the Rue Saint…Jacques； left the barrier on one side and followed the old inner boulevard for some distance； you reach the Rue de la Sante； then the Glaciere； and； a little while before arriving at the little river of the Gobelins； you e to a sort of field which is the only spot in the long and monotonous chain of t