the South, of the Present, of the Past, spread abroad and ripened in the good soil of France, under the western sun, to produce such a life! And when will the mysterious chance which combines elements and forces bring forth a second example of this good genius?"
Castres is the industrial centre of the department of the Tarn and is a busy town of more than 20,000 inhabitants. Endless spinning and weaving of woollens and of sheets goes on there, and there are dyeworks and tanneries and other factories. It has a certain seriousness of character, its houses are grey, its temperament business-like. It is overlooked by the Montagne Noire, a sombre blue mountain. But the country round is bathed in southern sunshine; vines, plum trees and peach trees abound, and Jaurès describes the maize growing higher than his head so that,[1] "when I cross the fields it seems as if I were in a real forest. In the evening when the moon rises, and there is a light breeze, a strong and health-giving odour, very enjoyable to breathe, streams forth from it.…"
During part of the time that Jean and his brother Louis were attending the college or boys' school of Castres, their parents lived at a distance of five kilometres out of the town and the boys had to walk backwards and forwards every day. These walks were delightful to Jean, who even
- ↑ Quelques pages sur J. Jaurès, by L. Levy-Bruhl.
