that Jaurès always kept something rustic about him even when in the full swing of a Parisian journalist's life. When he first went up to Paris he was considered by his comrades to be[1] "very much of a Southerner, rather rustic, rather hirsute," but also "intelligent and gifted with an extraordinary facility." He worked rapidly, and exhausted by the sudden change from the country to the airlessness of Paris, he slept much and long, a habit which was quite scandalous in the eyes of the boys' superintendent. His many questions and his hearty laugh were rather trying to the feelings of some of the older professors, who were used to respectful silence in their classes. He seems however to have won their hearts by his transparent simplicity and goodness.
When he had to write a paper, or give a lesson at the training school, his method was not to take many notes, but to think much and to use his wonderful memory. When he had read what was necessary about the subject in hand, he balanced himself on a chair and ruminated. Then if he had to write a paper he seized a pen and wrote page after page with great rapidity in a large hand. If he were preparing a lesson he wrote nothing, but thought for a long time and, when the moment came, gave forth with ease.
- ↑ Quelques pages sur J. Jaurès, by L. Levy-Bruhl.
