After having read “Venice Preserved” and admired the union of Pierre and Jaffier, Balzac says that he began to consider the peculiar virtues of those who are thrown outside of the social order,—the honesty of the galleys, the fidelity of robbers, and the privileges of that enormous power which these men obtain in fusing all ideas into one supreme will,—and concluded that, man being greater than men, society should belong entirely to those whose brilliancy, intelligence, and wealth could be joined in a fanaticism warm enough to melt their different forces into a single jet. An occult power of this description, he argued, would be the master of society; it would reverse obstacles, enchain desires, and give to one the superhuman power of all; it would be a world within a world, admitting none of its ideas, recognizing none of its laws; it would be a league of filibusters in yellow gloves and dogcarts, who could at all times be ready to devote themselves in their entirety to any one among them who should require their united aid. This novel conception was not only the motif of the “Histoire des Treize,” but no sooner was the book completed than Balzac, in accordance with his mania for living his characters, attempted to reproduce it in real life,—or rather, in the other life, for his true world was the one which he carried in his brain,—and without difficulty recruited for this purpose Jules Sandeau, Léon Gozlan, Laurent Jan, Gérard de Nerval, Merle, Alphonse Karr, and Granier de Cassagnac. The aim of the association, which he explained with that tumultuous eloquence for which he was famous and which silenced every objection, was simply to grasp the leading-strings of the principal newspapers, invade the theatres, take seats in the Académie, and become millionaires and peers of France. When any one of them produced a book or a play, the others were to write about it, talk about it, and advertise it generally, until its success was assured; and as nothing succeeds like success, a good commencement was all that was needed to insure an easy and glorious ascent. The project was enthusiastically received and unanimously approved. The society was entitled the “Cheval Rouge,” and Balzac was elected chief. In order to avoid suspicion, it was agreed that in public the members should not appear to know each other, and Karr relates that for a long time Balzac would pretend, whenever he saw him, that they met for the first time, and would communicate with him only in an actor’s aside. The meetings of the society were pre-arranged by the chief. The notices consisted of a card, on which was painted a red horse, and the words, stable, such a day, such a place; in order to make it still more fantastic, the place was changed each time.