The Life of the Fly 



problems solved by chemistry, yet another ray 

 of sunshine was reserved for me, adding its 

 gladness to that of my success. Let us go 

 back a couple of years. The chief-Inspectors 

 visited our grammar-school. These person- 

 ages travel in pairs : one attends to literature, 

 the other to science. When the inspection was 

 over and the books checked, the staff was sum- 

 moned to the principal's drawing-room, to re- 

 ceive the parting admonitions of the two lumi- 

 naries. The man of science began. I should 

 be sadly put to It to remember what he said. 

 It was cold professional prose, made up of 

 soulless words w^hich the hearer forgot once 

 the speaker's back was turned, words merely 

 boring to both. I had heard enough of these 

 chilly sermons In my time; one more of them 

 could not hope to make an impression on me. 

 The inspector In literature spoke next. At 

 the first words which he uttered, I said to my- 

 self: 



'Oho ! This is a very different business !' 

 The speech was alive and vigorous and 

 imageful; Indifferent to scholastic common- 

 places, the ideas soared, hovering gently in the 

 serene heights of a kindly philosophy. This 

 time, I listened with pleasure; I even felt 

 stirred. Here was no official homily: it was 

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