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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An "Attic" Philosopher, Complete + +Author: Emile Souvestre + +Release Date: October 30, 2004 [EBook #3999] +Last Updated: August 23, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN "ATTIC" PHILOSOPHER, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + AN “ATTIC” PHILOSOPHER + </h1> + <h3> + (Un Philosophe sous les Toits) + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Emile Souvestre + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + With a Preface by JOSEPH BERTRAND, of the French Academy + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> EMILE SOUVESTRE </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>AN “ATTIC” PHILOSOPHER</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>NEW-YEAR’S GIFTS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>THE CARNIVAL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>WHAT WE MAY LEARN BY LOOKING OUT + OF WINDOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>LET US + LOVE ONE ANOTHER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>COMPENSATION + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>UNCLE MAURICE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>THE PRICE OF POWER AND THE WORTH + OF FAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>MISANTHROPY + AND REPENTANCE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>THE + FAMILY OF MICHAEL AROUT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> + </a> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>OUR COUNTRY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>MORAL USE OF + INVENTORIES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>THE END + OF THE YEAR <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + EMILE SOUVESTRE + </h2> + <p> + No one succeeds in obtaining a prominent place in literature, or in + surrounding himself with a faithful and steady circle of admirers drawn + from the fickle masses of the public, unless he possesses originality, + constant variety, and a distinct personality. It is quite possible to gain + for a moment a few readers by imitating some original feature in another; + but these soon vanish and the writer remains alone and forgotten. Others, + again, without belonging to any distinct group of authors, having found + their standard in themselves, moralists and educators at the same time, + have obtained undying recognition. + </p> + <p> + Of the latter class, though little known outside of France, is Emile + Souvestre, who was born in Morlaix, April 15, 1806, and died at Paris July + 5, 1854. He was the son of a civil engineer, was educated at the college + of Pontivy, and intended to follow his father’s career by entering the + Polytechnic School. His father, however, died in 1823, and Souvestre + matriculated as a law-student at Rennes. But the young student soon + devoted himself entirely to literature. His first essay, a tragedy, ‘Le + Siege de Missolonghi’ (1828), was a pronounced failure. Disheartened and + disgusted he left Paris and established himself first as a lawyer in + Morlaix. Then he became proprietor of a newspaper, and was afterward + appointed a professor in Brest and in Mulhouse. In 1836 he contributed to + the ‘Revue des Deux Mondes’ some sketches of life in Brittany, which + obtained a brilliant success. Souvestre was soon made editor of La Revue + de Paris, and in consequence early found a publisher for his first novel, + ‘L’Echelle de Femmes’, which, as was the case with his second work, Riche + et Pauvre’, met with a very favorable reception. His reputation was now + made, and between this period and his death he gave to France about sixty + volumes—tales, novels, essays, history, and drama. + </p> + <p> + A double purpose was always very conspicuous in his books: he aspired to + the role of a moralist and educator, and was likewise a most impressive + painter of the life, character, and morals of the inhabitants of Brittany. + </p> + <p> + The most significant of his books are perhaps ‘Les Derniers Bretons + (1835-1837, 4 vols.), Pierre Landais (1843, 2 vols.), Le Foyer Breton + (1844, 2 vols.), Un Philosophe sons les Toits, crowned by the Academy + (1850), Confessions d’un Ouvrier (1851), Recits et Souvenirs (1853), + Souvenirs d’un Vieillard (1854); also La Bretagne Pittoresque (1845), and, + finally, Causeries Historiques et Litteraires (1854, 2 vols.)’. His + comedies deserve honorable mention: ‘Henri Hamelin, L’Oncle Baptiste + (1842), La Parisienne, Le Mousse, etc’. In 1848, Souvestre was appointed + professor of the newly created school of administration, mostly devoted to + popular lectures. He held this post till 1853, lecturing partly in Paris, + partly in Switzerland. + </p> + <p> + His death, when comparatively young, left a distinct gap in the literary + world. A life like his could not be extinguished without general sorrow. + Although he was unduly modest, and never aspired to the role of a + beacon-light in literature, always seeking to remain in obscurity, the + works of Emile Souvestre must be placed in the first rank by their + morality and by their instructive character. They will always command the + entire respect and applause of mankind. And thus it happens that, like + many others, he was only fully appreciated after his death. + </p> + <p> + Even those of his ‘confreres’ who did not seem to esteem him, when alive, + suddenly found out that they had experienced a great loss in his demise. + They expressed it in emotional panegyrcs; contemporaneous literature + discovered that virtue had flown from its bosom, and the French Academy, + which had at its proper time crowned his ‘Philosophe sons les Toits’ as a + work contributing supremely to morals, kept his memory green by bestowing + on his widow the “Prix Lambert,” designed for the “families of authors who + by their integrity, and by the probity of their efforts have well deserved + this token from the Republique des Lettres.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + JOSEPH BERTRAND + de ‘Academie Francaise. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + AN “ATTIC” PHILOSOPHER + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 1. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. NEW-YEAR’S GIFTS + </h2> + <h3> + January 1st + </h3> + <p> + The day of the month came into my mind as soon as I awoke. Another year is + separated from the chain of ages, and drops into the gulf of the past! The + crowd hasten to welcome her young sister. But while all looks are turned + toward the future, mine revert to the past. Everyone smiles upon the new + queen; but, in spite of myself, I think of her whom time has just wrapped + in her winding-sheet. The past year!—at least I know what she was, + and what she has given me; while this one comes surrounded by all the + forebodings of the unknown. What does she hide in the clouds that mantle + her? Is it the storm or the sunshine? Just now it rains, and I feel my + mind as gloomy as the sky. I have a holiday today; but what can one do on + a rainy day? I walk up and down my attic out of temper, and I determine to + light my fire. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately the matches are bad, the chimney smokes, the wood goes out! + I throw down my bellows in disgust, and sink into my old armchair. + </p> + <p> + In truth, why should I rejoice to see the birth of a new year? All those + who are already in the streets, with holiday looks and smiling faces—do + they understand what makes them so gay? Do they even know what is the + meaning of this holiday, or whence comes the custom of New-Year’s gifts? + </p> + <p> + Here my mind pauses to prove to itself its superiority over that of the + vulgar. I make a parenthesis in my ill-temper in favor of my vanity, and I + bring together all the evidence which my knowledge can produce. + </p> + <p> + (The old Romans divided the year into ten months only; it was Numa + Pompilius who added January and February. The former took its name from + Janus, to whom it was dedicated. As it opened the new year, they + surrounded its beginning with good omens, and thence came the custom of + visits between neighbors, of wishing happiness, and of New-Year’s gifts. + The presents given by the Romans were symbolic. They consisted of dry + figs, dates, honeycomb, as emblems of “the sweetness of the auspices under + which the year should begin its course,” and a small piece of money called + stips, which foreboded riches.) + </p> + <p> + Here I close the parenthesis, and return to my ill-humor. The little + speech I have just addressed to myself has restored me my + self-satisfaction, but made me more dissatisfied with others. I could now + enjoy my breakfast; but the portress has forgotten my morning’s milk, and + the pot of preserves is empty! Anyone else would have been vexed: as for + me, I affect the most supreme indifference. There remains a hard crust, + which I break by main strength, and which I carelessly nibble, as a man + far above the vanities of the world and of fresh rolls. + </p> + <p> + However, I do not know why my thoughts should grow more gloomy by reason + of the difficulties of mastication. I once read the story of an Englishman + who hanged himself because they had brought him his tea without sugar. + There are hours in life when the most trifling cross takes the form of a + calamity. Our tempers are like an opera-glass, which makes the object + small or great according to the end you look through. + </p> + <p> + Usually, the prospect that opens out before my window delights me. It is a + mountain-range of roofs, with ridges crossing, interlacing, and piled on + one another, and upon which tall chimneys raise their peaks. It was but + yesterday that they had an Alpine aspect to me, and I waited for the first + snowstorm to see glaciers among them; to-day, I only see tiles and stone + flues. The pigeons, which assisted my rural illusions, seem no more than + miserable birds which have mistaken the roof for the back yard; the smoke, + which rises in light clouds, instead of making me dream of the panting of + Vesuvius, reminds me of kitchen preparations and dishwater; and lastly, + the telegraph, that I see far off on the old tower of Montmartre, has the + effect of a vile gallows stretching its arms over the city. + </p> + <p> + My eyes, thus hurt by all they meet, fall upon the great man’s house which + faces my attic. + </p> + <p> + The influence of New-Year’s Day is visible there. The servants have an air + of eagerness proportioned to the value of their New-Year’s gifts, received + or expected. I see the master of the house crossing the court with the + morose look of a man who is forced to be generous; and the visitors + increase, followed by shop porters who carry flowers, bandboxes, or toys. + Suddenly the great gates are opened, and a new carriage, drawn by + thoroughbred horses, draws up before the doorsteps. They are, without + doubt, the New-Year’s gift presented to the mistress of the house by her + husband; for she comes herself to look at the new equipage. Very soon she + gets into it with a little girl, all streaming with laces, feathers and + velvets, and loaded with parcels which she goes to distribute as + New-Year’s gifts. The door is shut, the windows are drawn up, the carriage + sets off. + </p> + <p> + Thus all the world are exchanging good wishes and presents to-day. I alone + have nothing to give or to receive. Poor Solitary! I do not even know one + chosen being for whom I might offer a prayer. + </p> + <p> + Then let my wishes for a happy New Year go and seek out all my unknown + friends—lost in the multitude which murmurs like the ocean at my + feet! + </p> + <p> + To you first, hermits in cities, for whom death and poverty have created a + solitude in the midst of the crowd! unhappy laborers, who are condemned to + toil in melancholy, and eat your daily bread in silence and desertion, and + whom God has withdrawn from the intoxicating pangs of love and friendship! + </p> + <p> + To you, fond dreamers, who pass through life with your eyes turned toward + some polar star, while you tread with indifference over the rich harvests + of reality! + </p> + <p> + To you, honest fathers, who lengthen out the evening to maintain your + families! to you, poor widows, weeping and working by a cradle! to you, + young men, resolutely set to open for yourselves a path in life, large + enough to lead through it the wife of your choice! to you, all brave + soldiers of work and of self-sacrifice! + </p> + <p> + To you, lastly, whatever your title and your name, who love good, who pity + the suffering; who walk through the world like the symbolical Virgin of + Byzantium, with both arms open to the human race! + </p> + <p> + Here I am suddenly interrupted by loud and increasing chirpings. I look + about me: my window is surrounded with sparrows picking up the crumbs of + bread which in my brown study I had just scattered on the roof. At this + sight a flash of light broke upon my saddened heart. I deceived myself + just now, when I complained that I had nothing to give: thanks to me, the + sparrows of this part of the town will have their New-Year’s gifts! + </p> + <p> + Twelve o’clock.—A knock at my door; a poor girl comes in, and greets + me by name. At first I do not recollect her; but she looks at me, and + smiles. Ah! it is Paulette! But it is almost a year since I have seen her, + and Paulette is no longer the same: the other day she was a child, now she + is almost a young woman. + </p> + <p> + Paulette is thin, pale, and miserably clad; but she has always the same + open and straightforward look—the same mouth, smiling at every word, + as if to court your sympathy—the same voice, somewhat timid, yet + expressing fondness. Paulette is not pretty—she is even thought + plain; as for me, I think her charming. Perhaps that is not on her + account, but on my own. Paulette appears to me as one of my happiest + recollections. + </p> + <p> + It was the evening of a public holiday. Our principal buildings were + illuminated with festoons of fire, a thousand flags waved in the night + winds, and the fireworks had just shot forth their spouts of flame into + the midst of the Champ de Mars. Suddenly, one of those unaccountable + alarms which strike a multitude with panic fell upon the dense crowd: they + cry out, they rush on headlong; the weaker ones fall, and the frightened + crowd tramples them down in its convulsive struggles. I escaped from the + confusion by a miracle, and was hastening away, when the cries of a + perishing child arrested me: I reentered that human chaos, and, after + unheard-of exertions, I brought Paulette out of it at the peril of my + life. + </p> + <p> + That was two years ago: since then I had not seen the child again but at + long intervals, and I had almost forgotten her; but Paulette’s memory was + that of a grateful heart, and she came at the beginning of the year to + offer me her wishes for my happiness. She brought me, besides, a + wallflower in full bloom; she herself had planted and reared it: it was + something that belonged wholly to herself; for it was by her care, her + perseverance, and her patience, that she had obtained it. + </p> + <p> + The wallflower had grown in a common pot; but Paulette, who is a + bandbox-maker, had put it into a case of varnished paper, ornamented with + arabesques. These might have been in better taste, but I did not feel the + attention and good-will the less. + </p> + <p> + This unexpected present, the little girl’s modest blushes, the compliments + she stammered out, dispelled, as by a sunbeam, the kind of mist which had + gathered round my mind; my thoughts suddenly changed from the leaden tints + of evening to the brightest colors of dawn. I made Paulette sit down, and + questioned her with a light heart. + </p> + <p> + At first the little girl replied in monosyllables; but very soon the + tables were turned, and it was I who interrupted with short interjections + her long and confidential talk. The poor child leads a hard life. She was + left an orphan long since, with a brother and sister, and lives with an + old grandmother, who has “brought them up to poverty,” as she always calls + it. + </p> + <p> + However, Paulette now helps her to make bandboxes, her little sister + Perrine begins to use the needle, and her brother Henry is apprentice to a + printer. All would go well if it were not for losses and want of work—if + it were not for clothes which wear out, for appetites which grow larger, + and for the winter, when you cannot get sunshine for nothing. Paulette + complains that her candles go too quickly, and that her wood costs too + much. The fireplace in their garret is so large that a fagot makes no more + show in it than a match; it is so near the roof that the wind blows the + rain down it, and in winter it hails upon the hearth; so they have left + off using it. Henceforth they must be content with an earthen + chafing-dish, upon which they cook their meals. The grandmother had often + spoken of a stove that was for sale at the broker’s close by; but he asked + seven francs for it, and the times are too hard for such an expense: the + family, therefore, resign themselves to cold for economy! + </p> + <p> + As Paulette spoke, I felt more and more that I was losing my fretfulness + and low spirits. The first disclosures of the little bandbox-maker created + within me a wish that soon became a plan. I questioned her about her daily + occupations, and she informed me that on leaving me she must go, with her + brother, her sister, and grandmother, to the different people for whom + they work. My plan was immediately settled. I told the child that I would + go to see her in the evening, and I sent her away with fresh thanks. + </p> + <p> + I placed the wallflower in the open window, where a ray of sunshine bid it + welcome; the birds were singing around, the sky had cleared up, and the + day, which began so loweringly, had become bright. I sang as I moved about + my room, and, having hastily put on my hat and coat, I went out. + </p> + <p> + Three o’clock.—All is settled with my neighbor, the chimney-doctor; + he will repair my old stove, and answers for its being as good as new. At + five o’clock we are to set out, and put it up in Paulette’s grandmother’s + room. + </p> + <p> + Midnight.—All has gone off well. At the hour agreed upon, I was at + the old bandbox-maker’s; she was still out. My Piedmontese + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [In Paris a chimney-sweeper is named “Piedmontese” or “Savoyard,” + as they usually come from that country.] +</pre> + <p> + fixed the stove, while I arranged a dozen logs in the great fireplace, + taken from my winter stock. I shall make up for them by warming myself + with walking, or by going to bed earlier. + </p> + <p> + My heart beat at every step that was heard on the staircase; I trembled + lest they should interrupt me in my preparations, and should thus spoil my + intended surprise. But no!—see everything ready: the lighted stove + murmurs gently, the little lamp burns upon the table, and a bottle of oil + for it is provided on the shelf. The chimney-doctor is gone. Now my fear + lest they should come is changed into impatience at their not coming. At + last I hear children’s voices; here they are: they push open the door and + rush in—but they all stop in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of the lamp, the stove, and the visitor, who stands there + like a magician in the midst of these wonders, they draw back almost + frightened. Paulette is the first to comprehend it, and the arrival of the + grandmother, who is more slowly mounting the stairs, finishes the + explanation. Then come tears, ecstasies, thanks! + </p> + <p> + But the wonders are not yet ended. The little sister opens the oven, and + discovers some chestnuts just roasted; the grandmother puts her hand on + the bottles of cider arranged on the dresser; and I draw forth from the + basket that I have hidden a cold tongue, a pot of butter, and some fresh + rolls. + </p> + <p> + Now their wonder turns into admiration; the little family have never seen + such a feast! They lay the cloth, they sit down, they eat; it is a + complete banquet for all, and each contributes his share to it. I had + brought only the supper: and the bandbox-maker and her children supplied + the enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + What bursts of laughter at nothing! What a hubbub of questions which + waited for no reply, of replies which answered no question! The old woman + herself shared in the wild merriment of the little ones! I have always + been struck at the ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness. + Being used to live only for the present, they make a gain of every + pleasure as soon as it offers itself. But the surfeited rich are more + difficult to satisfy: they require time and everything to suit before they + will consent to be happy. + </p> + <p> + The evening has passed like a moment. The old woman told me the history of + her life, sometimes smiling, sometimes drying her eyes. Perrine sang an + old ballad with her fresh young voice. Henry told us what he knows of the + great writers of the day, to whom he has to carry their proofs. At last we + were obliged to separate, not without fresh thanks on the part of the + happy family. + </p> + <p> + I have come home slowly, ruminating with a full heart, and pure enjoyment, + on the simple events of my evening. It has given me much comfort and much + instruction. Now, no New-Year’s Day will come amiss to me; I know that no + one is so unhappy as to have nothing to give and nothing to receive. + </p> + <p> + As I came in, I met my rich neighbor’s new equipage. She, too, had just + returned from her evening’s party; and, as she sprang from the + carriage-step with feverish impatience, I heard her murmur “At last!” + </p> + <p> + I, when I left Paulette’s family, said “So soon!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE CARNIVAL + </h2> + <h3> + February 20th + </h3> + <p> + What a noise out of doors! What is the meaning of these shouts and cries? + Ah! I recollect: this is the last day of the Carnival, and the maskers are + passing. + </p> + <p> + Christianity has not been able to abolish the noisy bacchanalian festivals + of the pagan times, but it has changed the names. That which it has given + to these “days of liberty” announces the ending of the feasts, and the + month of fasting which should follow; carn-ival means, literally, + “farewell to flesh!” It is a forty days’ farewell to the “blessed pullets + and fat hams,” so celebrated by Pantagruel’s minstrel. Man prepares for + privation by satiety, and finishes his sin thoroughly before he begins to + repent. + </p> + <p> + Why, in all ages and among every people, do we meet with some one of these + mad festivals? Must we believe that it requires such an effort for men to + be reasonable, that the weaker ones have need of rest at intervals? The + monks of La Trappe, who are condemned to silence by their rule, are + allowed to speak once in a month, and on this day they all talk at once + from the rising to the setting of the sun. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it is the same in the world. As we are obliged all the year to be + decent, orderly, and reasonable, we make up for such a long restraint + during the Carnival. It is a door opened to the incongruous fancies and + wishes that have hitherto been crowded back into a corner of our brain. + For a moment the slaves become the masters, as in the days of the + Saturnalia, and all is given up to the “fools of the family.” + </p> + <p> + The shouts in the square redouble; the troops of masks increase—on + foot, in carriages, and on horseback. It is now who can attract the most + attention by making a figure for a few hours, or by exciting curiosity or + envy; to-morrow they will all return, dull and exhausted, to the + employments and troubles of yesterday. + </p> + <p> + Alas! thought I with vexation, each of us is like these masqueraders; our + whole life is often but an unsightly Carnival! And yet man has need of + holidays, to relax his mind, rest his body, and open his heart. Can he not + have them, then, with these coarse pleasures? Economists have been long + inquiring what is the best disposal of the industry of the human race. Ah! + if I could only discover the best disposal of its leisure! It is easy + enough to find it work; but who will find it relaxation? Work supplies the + daily bread; but it is cheerfulness that gives it a relish. O + philosophers! go in quest of pleasure! find us amusements without + brutality, enjoyments without selfishness; in a word, invent a Carnival + that will please everybody, and bring shame to no one. + </p> + <p> + Three o’clock.—I have just shut my window, and stirred up my fire. + As this is a holiday for everybody, I will make it one for myself, too. So + I light the little lamp over which, on grand occasions, I make a cup of + the coffee that my portress’s son brought from the Levant, and I look in + my bookcase for one of my favorite authors. + </p> + <p> + First, here is the amusing parson of Meudon; but his characters are too + fond of talking slang:—Voltaire; but he disheartens men by always + bantering them:—Moliere; but he hinders one’s laughter by making one + think:—Lesage; let us stop at him. Being profound rather than grave, + he preaches virtue while ridiculing vice; if bitterness is sometimes to be + found in his writings, it is always in the garb of mirth: he sees the + miseries of the world without despising it, and knows its cowardly tricks + without hating it. + </p> + <p> + Let us call up all the heroes of his book.... Gil Blas, Fabrice, Sangrado, + the Archbishop of Granada, the Duke of Lerma, Aurora, Scipio! Ye gay or + graceful figures, rise before my eyes, people my solitude; bring hither + for my amusement the world-carnival, of which you are the brilliant + maskers! + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, at the very moment I made this invocation, I recollected I + had a letter to write which could not be put off. One of my attic + neighbors came yesterday to ask me to do it. He is a cheerful old man, and + has a passion for pictures and prints. He comes home almost every day with + a drawing or painting—probably of little value; for I know he lives + penuriously, and even the letter that I am to write for him shows his + poverty. His only son, who was married in England, is just dead, and his + widow—left without any means, and with an old mother and a child—had + written to beg for a home. M. Antoine asked me first to translate the + letter, and then to write a refusal. I had promised that he should have + this answer to-day: before everything, let us fulfil our promises. + </p> + <p> + The sheet of “Bath” paper is before me, I have dipped my pen into the ink, + and I rub my forehead to invite forth a sally of ideas, when I perceive + that I have not my dictionary. Now, a Parisian who would speak English + without a dictionary is like a child without leading-strings; the ground + trembles under him, and he stumbles at the first step. I run then to the + bookbinder’s, where I left my Johnson, who lives close by in the square. + </p> + <p> + The door is half open; I hear low groans; I enter without knocking, and I + see the bookbinder by the bedside of his fellow-lodger. This latter has a + violent fever and delirium. Pierre looks at him perplexed and out of + humor. I learn from him that his comrade was not able to get up in the + morning, and that since then he has become worse every hour. + </p> + <p> + I ask whether they have sent for a doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, indeed!” replied Pierre, roughly; “one must have money in one’s + pocket for that, and this fellow has only debts instead of savings.” + </p> + <p> + “But you,” said I, rather astonished; “are you not his friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Friend!” interrupted the bookbinder. “Yes, as much as the shaft-horse is + friend to the leader—on condition that each will take his share of + the draught, and eat his feed by himself.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not intend, however, to leave him without any help?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! he may keep in his bed till to-morrow, as I’m going to the ball.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to leave him alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Well! must I miss a party of pleasure at Courtville—[A Parisian + summer resort.]—because this fellow is lightheaded?” asked Pierre, + sharply. “I have promised to meet some friends at old Desnoyer’s. Those + who are sick may take their broth; my physic is white wine.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he untied a bundle, out of which he took the fancy costume of a + waterman, and proceeded to dress himself in it. + </p> + <p> + In vain I tried to awaken some fellow-feeling for the unfortunate man who + lay groaning there close by him; being entirely taken up with the thoughts + of his expected pleasure, Pierre would hardly so much as hear me. At last + his coarse selfishness provoked me. I began reproaching instead of + remonstrating with him, and I declared him responsible for the + consequences which such a desertion must bring upon the sick man. + </p> + <p> + At this the bookbinder, who was just going, stopped with an oath, and + stamped his foot. “Am I to spend my Carnival in heating water for + footbaths, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “You must not leave your comrade to die without help!” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Let him go to the hospital, then!” + </p> + <p> + “How can he by himself?” + </p> + <p> + Pierre seemed to make up his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m going to take him,” resumed he; “besides, I shall get rid of + him sooner. Come, get up, comrade!” He shook his comrade, who had not + taken off his clothes. I observed that he was too weak to walk, but the + bookbinder would not listen: he made him get up, and half dragged, half + supported him to the lodge of the porter, who ran for a hackney carriage. + I saw the sick man get into it, almost fainting, with the impatient + waterman; and they both set off, one perhaps to die, the other to dine at + Courtville Gardens! + </p> + <p> + Six o’clock.—I have been to knock at my neighbor’s door, who opened + it himself; and I have given him his letter, finished at last, and + directed to his son’s widow. M. Antoine thanked me gratefully, and made me + sit down. + </p> + <p> + It was the first time I had been into the attic of the old amateur. + Curtains stained with damp and hanging down in rags, a cold stove, a bed + of straw, two broken chairs, composed all the furniture. At the end of the + room were a great number of prints in a heap, and paintings without frames + turned against the wall. + </p> + <p> + At the moment I came in, the old man was making his dinner on some hard + crusts of bread, which he was soaking in a glass of ‘eau sucree’. He + perceived that my eyes fell upon his hermit fare, and he looked a little + ashamed. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to tempt you in my supper, neighbor,” said he, with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + I replied that at least I thought it a very philosophical one for the + Carnival. + </p> + <p> + M. Antoine shook his head, and went on again with his supper. + </p> + <p> + “Every one keeps his holidays in his own way,” resumed he, beginning again + to dip a crust into his glass. “There are several sorts of epicures, and + not all feasts are meant to regale the palate; there are some also for the + ears and the eyes.” + </p> + <p> + I looked involuntarily round me, as if to seek for the invisible banquet + which could make up to him for such a supper. + </p> + <p> + Without doubt he understood me; for he got up slowly, and, with the + magisterial air of a man confident in what he is about to do, he rummaged + behind several picture frames, drew forth a painting, over which he passed + his hand, and silently placed it under the light of the lamp. + </p> + <p> + It represented a fine-looking old man, seated at table with his wife, his + daughter, and his children, and singing to the accompaniment of musicians + who appeared in the background. At first sight I recognized the subject, + which I had often admired at the Louvre, and I declared it to be a + splendid copy of Jordaens. + </p> + <p> + “A copy!” cried M. Antoine; “say an original, neighbor, and an original + retouched by Rubens! Look closer at the head of the old man, the dress of + the young woman, and the accessories. One can count the pencil-strokes of + the Hercules of painters. It is not only a masterpiece, sir; it is a + treasure—a relic! The picture at the Louvre may be a pearl, this is + a diamond!” + </p> + <p> + And resting it against the stove, so as to place it in the best light, he + fell again to soaking his crusts, without taking his eyes off the + wonderful picture. One would have said that the sight of it gave the + crusts an unexpected relish, for he chewed them slowly, and emptied his + glass by little sips. His shrivelled features became smooth, his nostrils + expanded; it was indeed, as he said himself, “a feast for the eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “You see that I also have my treat,” he resumed, nodding his head with an + air of triumph. “Others may run after dinners and balls; as for me, this + is the pleasure I give myself for my Carnival.” + </p> + <p> + “But if this painting is really so precious,” replied I, “it ought to be + worth a high price.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! eh!” said M. Antoine, with an air of proud indifference. “In good + times, a good judge might value it at somewhere about twenty thousand + francs.” + </p> + <p> + I started back. + </p> + <p> + “And you have bought it?” cried I. + </p> + <p> + “For nothing,” replied he, lowering his voice. “These brokers are asses; + mine mistook this for a student’s copy; he let me have it for fifty louis, + ready money! This morning I took them to him, and now he wishes to be off + the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “This morning!” repeated I, involuntarily casting my eyes on the letter + containing the refusal that M. Antoine had made me write to his son’s + widow, which was still on the little table. + </p> + <p> + He took no notice of my exclamation, and went on contemplating the work of + Jordaens in an ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “What a knowledge of chiaroscuro!” he murmured, biting his last crust in + delight. “What relief! what fire! Where can one find such transparency of + color! such magical lights! such force! such nature!” + </p> + <p> + As I was listening to him in silence, he mistook my astonishment for + admiration, and clapped me on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You are dazzled,” said he merrily; “you did not expect such a treasure! + What do you say to the bargain I have made?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” replied I, gravely; “but I think you might have done better.” + </p> + <p> + M. Antoine raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “How!” cried he; “do you take me for a man likely to be deceived about the + merit or value of a painting?” + </p> + <p> + “I neither doubt your taste nor your skill; but I cannot help thinking + that, for the price of this picture of a family party, you might have had—” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” + </p> + <p> + “The family itself, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The old amateur cast a look at me, not of anger, but of contempt. In his + eyes I had evidently just proved myself a barbarian, incapable of + understanding the arts, and unworthy of enjoying them. He got up without + answering me, hastily took up the Jordaens, and replaced it in its + hiding-place behind the prints. + </p> + <p> + It was a sort of dismissal; I took leave of him, and went away. + </p> + <p> + Seven o’clock.—When I come in again, I find my water boiling over my + lamp, and I busy myself in grinding my Mocha, and setting out my + coffee-things. + </p> + <p> + The getting coffee ready is the most delicate and most attractive of + domestic operations to one who lives alone: it is the grand work of a + bachelor’s housekeeping. + </p> + <p> + Coffee is, so to say, just the mid-point between bodily and spiritual + nourishment. It acts agreeably, and at the same time, upon the senses and + the thoughts. Its very fragrance gives a sort of delightful activity to + the wits; it is a genius that lends wings to our fancy, and transports it + to the land of the Arabian Nights. + </p> + <p> + When I am buried in my old easy-chair, my feet on the fender before a + blazing fire, my ear soothed by the singing of the coffee-pot, which seems + to gossip with my fire-irons, the sense of smell gently excited by the + aroma of the Arabian bean, and my eyes shaded by my cap pulled down over + them, it often seems as if each cloud of the fragrant steam took a + distinct form. As in the mirages of the desert, in each as it rises, I see + some image of which my mind had been longing for the reality. + </p> + <p> + At first the vapor increases, and its color deepens. I see a cottage on a + hillside: behind is a garden shut in by a whitethorn hedge, and through + the garden runs a brook, on the banks of which I hear the bees humming. + </p> + <p> + Then the view opens still more. See those fields planted with apple-trees, + in which I can distinguish a plough and horses waiting for their master! + Farther on, in a part of the wood which rings with the sound of the axe, I + perceive the woodsman’s hut, roofed with turf and branches; and, in the + midst of all these rural pictures, I seem to see a figure of myself + gliding about. It is my ghost walking in my dream! + </p> + <p> + The bubbling of the water, ready to boil over, compels me to break off my + meditations, in order to fill up the coffee-pot. I then remember that I + have no cream; I take my tin can off the hook and go down to the + milkwoman’s. + </p> + <p> + Mother Denis is a hale countrywoman from Savoy, which she left when quite + young; and, contrary to the custom of the Savoyards, she has not gone back + to it again. She has neither husband nor child, notwithstanding the title + they give her; but her kindness, which never sleeps, makes her worthy of + the name of mother. + </p> + <p> + A brave creature! Left by herself in the battle of life, she makes good + her humble place in it by working, singing, helping others, and leaving + the rest to God. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the milk-shop I hear loud bursts of laughter. In one of the + corners of the shop three children are sitting on the ground. They wear + the sooty dress of Savoyard boys, and in their hands they hold large + slices of bread and cheese. The youngest is besmeared up to the eyes with + his, and that is the reason of their mirth. + </p> + <p> + Mother Denis points them out to me. + </p> + <p> + “Look at the little lambs, how they enjoy themselves!” said she, putting + her hand on the head of the little glutton. + </p> + <p> + “He has had no breakfast,” puts in one of the others by way of excuse. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little thing,” said the milkwoman; “he is left alone in the streets + of Paris, where he can find no other father than the All-good God!” + </p> + <p> + “And that is why you make yourself a mother to them?” I replied, gently. + </p> + <p> + “What I do is little enough,” said Mother Denis, measuring out my milk; + “but every day I get some of them together out of the street, that for + once they may have enough to eat. Dear children! their mothers will make + up for it in heaven. Not to mention that they recall my native mountains + to me: when they sing and dance, I seem to see our old father again.” + </p> + <p> + Here her eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “So you are repaid by your recollections for the good you do them?” + resumed I. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! yes!” said she, “and by their happiness, too! The laughter of these + little ones, sir, is like a bird’s song; it makes you gay, and gives you + heart to live.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke she cut some fresh slices of bread and cheese, and added some + apples and a handful of nuts to them. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my little dears,” she cried, “put these into your pockets against + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to me: + </p> + <p> + “To-day I am ruining myself,” added she; “but we must all have our + Carnival.” + </p> + <p> + I came away without saying a word: I was too much affected. + </p> + <p> + At last I have discovered what true pleasure is. After beholding the + egotism of sensuality and of intellect, I have found the happy + self-sacrifice of goodness. Pierre, M. Antoine, and Mother Denis had all + kept their Carnival; but for the first two, it was only a feast for the + senses or the mind; while for the third, it was a feast for the heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. WHAT WE MAY LEARN BY LOOKING OUT OF WINDOW + </h2> + <h3> + March 3d + </h3> + <p> + A poet has said that life is the dream of a shadow: he would better have + compared it to a night of fever! What alternate fits of restlessness and + sleep! what discomfort! what sudden starts! what ever-returning thirst! + what a chaos of mournful and confused fancies! We can neither sleep nor + wake; we seek in vain for repose, and we stop short on the brink of + action. Two thirds of human existence are wasted in hesitation, and the + last third in repenting. + </p> + <p> + When I say human existence, I mean my own! We are so made that each of us + regards himself as the mirror of the community: what passes in our minds + infallibly seems to us a history of the universe. Every man is like the + drunkard who reports an earthquake, because he feels himself staggering. + </p> + <p> + And why am I uncertain and restless—I, a poor day-laborer in the + world—who fill an obscure station in a corner of it, and whose work + it avails itself of, without heeding the workman? I will tell you, my + unseen friend, for whom these lines are written; my unknown brother, on + whom the solitary call in sorrow; my imaginary confidant, to whom all + monologues are addressed and who is but the shadow of our own conscience. + </p> + <p> + A great event has happened in my life! A crossroad has suddenly opened in + the middle of the monotonous way along which I was travelling quietly, and + without thinking of it. Two roads present themselves, and I must choose + between them. One is only the continuation of that I have followed till + now; the other is wider, and exhibits wondrous prospects. On the first + there is nothing to fear, but also little to hope; on the other are great + dangers and great fortune. Briefly, the question is, whether I shall give + up the humble office in which I thought to die, for one of those bold + speculations in which chance alone is banker! Ever since yesterday I have + consulted with myself; I have compared the two and I remain undecided. + </p> + <p> + Where shall I find light—who will advise me? + </p> + <p> + Sunday, 4th.—See the sun coming out from the thick fogs of winter! + Spring announces its approach; a soft breeze skims over the roofs, and my + wallflower begins to blow again. + </p> + <p> + We are near that sweet season of fresh green, of which the poets of the + sixteenth century sang with so much feeling: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now the gladsome month of May + All things newly doth array; + Fairest lady, let me too + In thy love my life renew. +</pre> + <p> + The chirping of the sparrows calls me: they claim the crumbs I scatter to + them every morning. I open my window, and the prospect of roofs opens out + before me in all its splendor. + </p> + <p> + He who has lived only on a first floor has no idea of the picturesque + variety of such a view. He has never contemplated these tile-colored + heights which intersect each other; he has not followed with his eyes + these gutter-valleys, where the fresh verdure of the attic gardens waves, + the deep shadows which evening spreads over the slated slopes, and the + sparkling of windows which the setting sun has kindled to a blaze of fire. + He has not studied the flora of these Alps of civilization, carpeted by + lichens and mosses; he is not acquainted with the myriad inhabitants that + people them, from the microscopic insect to the domestic cat—that + reynard of the roofs who is always on the prowl, or in ambush; he has not + witnessed the thousand aspects of a clear or a cloudy sky; nor the + thousand effects of light, that make these upper regions a theatre with + ever-changing scenes! How many times have my days of leisure passed away + in contemplating this wonderful sight; in discovering its darker or + brighter episodes; in seeking, in short, in this unknown world for the + impressions of travel that wealthy tourists look for lower! + </p> + <p> + Nine o’clock.—But why, then, have not my winged neighbors picked up + the crumbs I have scattered for them before my window? I see them fly + away, come back, perch upon the ledges of the windows, and chirp at the + sight of the feast they are usually so ready to devour! It is not my + presence that frightens them; I have accustomed them to eat out of my + hand. Then, why this fearful suspense? In vain I look around: the roof is + clear, the windows near are closed. I crumble the bread that remains from + my breakfast to attract them by an ampler feast. Their chirpings increase, + they bend down their heads, the boldest approach upon the wing, but + without daring to alight. + </p> + <p> + Come, come, my sparrows are the victims of one of the foolish panics which + make the funds fall at the Bourse! It is plain that birds are not more + reasonable than men! + </p> + <p> + With this reflection I was about to shut my window, when suddenly I + perceived, in a spot of sunshine on my right, the shadow of two pricked-up + ears; then a paw advanced, then the head of a tabby-cat showed itself at + the corner of the gutter. The cunning fellow was lying there in wait, + hoping the crumbs would bring him some game. + </p> + <p> + And I had accused my guests of cowardice! I was so sure that no danger + could menace them! I thought I had looked well everywhere! I had only + forgotten the corner behind me! + </p> + <p> + In life, as on the roofs, how many misfortunes come from having forgotten + a single corner! + </p> + <p> + Ten o’clock.—I cannot leave my window; the rain and the cold have + kept it shut so long that I must reconnoitre all the environs to be able + to take possession of them again. My eyes search in succession all the + points of the jumbled and confused prospect, passing on or stopping + according to what they light upon. + </p> + <p> + Ah! see the windows upon which they formerly loved to rest; they are those + of two unknown neighbors, whose different habits they have long remarked. + </p> + <p> + One is a poor work-woman, who rises before sunrise, and whose profile is + shadowed upon her little muslin window-curtain far into the evening; the + other is a young songstress, whose vocal flourishes sometimes reach my + attic by snatches. When their windows are open, that of the work-woman + discovers a humble but decent abode; the other, an elegantly furnished + room. But to-day a crowd of tradespeople throng the latter: they take down + the silk hangings and carry off the furniture, and I now remember that the + young singer passed under my window this morning with her veil down, and + walking with the hasty step of one who suffers some inward trouble. Ah! I + guess it all. Her means are exhausted in elegant fancies, or have been + taken away by some unexpected misfortune, and now she has fallen from + luxury to indigence. While the work-woman manages not only to keep her + little room, but also to furnish it with decent comfort by her steady + toil, that of the singer is become the property of brokers. The one + sparkled for a moment on the wave of prosperity; the other sails slowly + but safely along the coast of a humble and laborious industry. + </p> + <p> + Alas! is there not here a lesson for us all? Is it really in hazardous + experiments, at the end of which we shall meet with wealth or ruin, that + the wise man should employ his years of strength and freedom? Ought he to + consider life as a regular employment which brings its daily wages, or as + a game in which the future is determined by a few throws? Why seek the + risk of extreme chances? For what end hasten to riches by dangerous roads? + Is it really certain that happiness is the prize of brilliant successes, + rather than of a wisely accepted poverty? Ah! if men but knew in what a + small dwelling joy can live, and how little it costs to furnish it! + </p> + <p> + Twelve o’clock.—I have been walking up and down my attic for a long + time, with my arms folded and my eyes on the ground! My doubts increase, + like shadows encroaching more and more on some bright space; my fears + multiply; and the uncertainty becomes every moment more painful to me! It + is necessary for me to decide to-day, and before the evening! I hold the + dice of my future fate in my hands, and I dare not throw them. + </p> + <p> + Three o’clock.—The sky has become cloudy, and a cold wind begins to + blow from the west; all the windows which were opened to the sunshine of a + beautiful day are shut again. Only on the opposite side of the street, the + lodger on the last story has not yet left his balcony. + </p> + <p> + One knows him to be a soldier by his regular walk, his gray moustaches, + and the ribbon that decorates his buttonhole. Indeed, one might have + guessed as much from the care he takes of the little garden which is the + ornament of his balcony in mid-air; for there are two things especially + loved by all old soldiers—flowers and children. They have been so + long, obliged to look upon the earth as a field of battle, and so long cut + off from the peaceful pleasures of a quiet lot, that they seem to begin + life at an age when others end it. The tastes of their early years, which + were arrested by the stern duties of war, suddenly break out again with + their white hairs, and are like the savings of youth which they spend + again in old age. Besides, they have been condemned to be destroyers for + so long that perhaps they feel a secret pleasure in creating, and seeing + life spring up again: the beauty of weakness has a grace and an attraction + the more for those who have been the agents of unbending force; and the + watching over the frail germs of life has all the charms of novelty for + these old workmen of death. + </p> + <p> + Therefore the cold wind has not driven my neighbor from his balcony. He is + digging up the earth in his green boxes, and carefully sowing the seeds of + the scarlet nasturtium, convolvulus, and sweet-pea. Henceforth he will + come every day to watch for their first sprouting, to protect the young + shoots from weeds or insects, to arrange the strings for the tendrils to + climb on, and carefully to regulate their supply of water and heat! + </p> + <p> + How much labor to bring in the desired harvest! For that, how many times + shall I see him brave cold or heat, wind or sun, as he does to-day! But + then, in the hot summer days, when the blinding dust whirls in clouds + through our streets, when the eye, dazzled by the glare of white stucco, + knows not where to rest, and the glowing roofs reflect their heat upon us + to burning, the old soldier will sit in his arbor and perceive nothing but + green leaves and flowers around him, and the breeze will come cool and + fresh to him through these perfumed shades. His assiduous care will be + rewarded at last. + </p> + <p> + We must sow the seeds, and tend the growth, if we would enjoy the flower. + </p> + <p> + Four o’clock.—The clouds that have been gathering in the horizon for + a long time are become darker; it thunders loudly, and the rain pours + down! Those who are caught in it fly in every direction, some laughing and + some crying. + </p> + <p> + I always find particular amusement in these helter-skelters, caused by a + sudden storm. It seems as if each one, when thus taken by surprise, loses + the factitious character that the world or habit has given him, and + appears in his true colors. + </p> + <p> + See, for example, that big man with deliberate step, who suddenly forgets + his indifference, made to order, and runs like a schoolboy! He is a + thrifty city gentleman, who, with all his fashionable airs, is afraid to + spoil his hat. + </p> + <p> + That pretty woman yonder, on the contrary, whose looks are so modest, and + whose dress is so elaborate, slackens her pace with the increasing storm. + She seems to find pleasure in braving it, and does not think of her velvet + cloak spotted by the hail! She is evidently a lioness in sheep’s clothing. + </p> + <p> + Here, a young man, who was passing, stops to catch some of the hailstones + in his hand, and examines them. By his quick and business-like walk just + now, you would have taken him for a tax-gatherer on his rounds, when he is + a young philosopher, studying the effects of electricity. And those + schoolboys who leave their ranks to run after the sudden gusts of a March + whirlwind; those girls, just now so demure, but who now fly with bursts of + laughter; those national guards, who quit the martial attitude of their + days of duty to take refuge under a porch! The storm has caused all these + transformations. + </p> + <p> + See, it increases! The hardiest are obliged to seek shelter. I see every + one rushing toward the shop in front of my window, which a bill announces + is to let. It is for the fourth time within a few months. A year ago all + the skill of the joiner and the art of the painter were employed in + beautifying it, but their works are already destroyed by the leaving of so + many tenants; the cornices of the front are disfigured by mud; the + arabesques on the doorway are spoiled by bills posted upon them to + announce the sale of the effects. The splendid shop has lost some of its + embellishments with each change of the tenant. See it now empty, and left + open to the passersby. How much does its fate resemble that of so many + who, like it, only change their occupation to hasten the faster to ruin! + </p> + <p> + I am struck by this last reflection: since the morning everything seems to + speak to me, and with the same warning tone. Everything says: “Take care! + be content with your happy, though humble lot; happiness can be retained + only by constancy; do not forsake your old patrons for the protection of + those who are unknown!” + </p> + <p> + Are they the outward objects which speak thus, or does the warning come + from within? Is it not I myself who give this language to all that + surrounds me? The world is but an instrument, to which we give sound at + will. But what does it signify if it teaches us wisdom? The low voice that + speaks in our breasts is always a friendly voice, for it tells us what we + are, that is to say, what is our capability. Bad conduct results, for the + most part, from mistaking our calling. There are so many fools and knaves, + because there are so few men who know themselves. The question is not to + discover what will suit us, but for what we are suited! + </p> + <p> + What should I do among these many experienced financial speculators? I am + only a poor sparrow, born among the housetops, and should always fear the + enemy crouching in the dark corner; I am a prudent workman, and should + think of the business of my neighbors who so suddenly disappeared; I am a + timid observer, and should call to mind the flowers so slowly raised by + the old soldier, or the shop brought to ruin by constant change of + masters. Away from me, ye banquets, over which hangs the sword of + Damocles! I am a country mouse. Give me my nuts and hollow tree, and I ask + nothing besides—except security. + </p> + <p> + And why this insatiable craving for riches? Does a man drink more when he + drinks from a large glass? Whence comes that universal dread of + mediocrity, the fruitful mother of peace and liberty? Ah! there is the + evil which, above every other, it should be the aim of both public and + private education to anticipate! If that were got rid of, what treasons + would be spared, what baseness avoided, what a chain of excess and crime + would be forever broken! We award the palm to charity, and to + self-sacrifice; but, above all, let us award it to moderation, for it is + the great social virtue. Even when it does not create the others, it + stands instead of them. + </p> + <p> + Six o’clock.—I have written a letter of thanks to the promoters of + the new speculation, and have declined their offer! This decision has + restored my peace of mind. I stopped singing, like the cobbler, as long as + I entertained the hope of riches: it is gone, and happiness is come back! + </p> + <p> + O beloved and gentle Poverty! pardon me for having for a moment wished to + fly from thee, as I would from Want. Stay here forever with thy charming + sisters, Pity, Patience, Sobriety, and Solitude; be ye my queens and my + instructors; teach me the stern duties of life; remove far from my abode + the weakness of heart and giddiness of head which follow prosperity. Holy + Poverty! teach me to endure without complaining, to impart without + grudging, to seek the end of life higher than in pleasure, farther off + than in power. Thou givest the body strength, thou makest the mind more + firm; and, thanks to thee, this life, to which the rich attach themselves + as to a rock, becomes a bark of which death may cut the cable without + awakening all our fears. Continue to sustain me, O thou whom Christ hath + called Blessed! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. LET US LOVE ONE ANOTHER + </h2> + <h3> + April 9th + </h3> + <p> + The fine evenings are come back; the trees begin to put forth their + shoots; hyacinths, jonquils, violets, and lilacs perfume the baskets of + the flower-girls—all the world have begun their walks again on the + quays and boulevards. After dinner, I, too, descend from my attic to + breathe the evening air. + </p> + <p> + It is the hour when Paris is seen in all its beauty. During the day the + plaster fronts of the houses weary the eye by their monotonous whiteness; + heavily laden carts make the streets shake under their huge wheels; the + eager crowd, taken up by the one fear of losing a moment from business, + cross and jostle one another; the aspect of the city altogether has + something harsh, restless, and flurried about it. But, as soon as the + stars appear, everything is changed; the glare of the white houses is + quenched in the gathering shades; you hear no more any rolling but that of + the carriages on their way to some party of pleasure; you see only the + lounger or the light-hearted passing by; work has given place to leisure. + Now each one may breathe after the fierce race through the business of the + day, and whatever strength remains to him he gives to pleasure! See the + ballrooms lighted up, the theatres open, the eating-shops along the walks + set out with dainties, and the twinkling lanterns of the newspaper criers. + Decidedly Paris has laid aside the pen, the ruler, and the apron; after + the day spent in work, it must have the evening for enjoyment; like the + masters of Thebes, it has put off all serious matter till tomorrow. + </p> + <p> + I love to take part in this happy hour; not to mix in the general gayety, + but to contemplate it. If the enjoyments of others embitter jealous minds, + they strengthen the humble spirit; they are the beams of sunshine, which + open the two beautiful flowers called trust and hope. + </p> + <p> + Although alone in the midst of the smiling multitude, I do not feel myself + isolated from it, for its gayety is reflected upon me: it is my own kind, + my own family, who are enjoying life, and I take a brother’s share in + their happiness. We are all fellow-soldiers in this earthly battle, and + what does it matter on whom the honors of the victory fall? If Fortune + passes by without seeing us, and pours her favors on others, let us + console ourselves, like the friend of Parmenio, by saying, “Those, too, + are Alexanders.” + </p> + <p> + While making these reflections, I was going on as chance took me. I + crossed from one pavement to another, I retraced my steps, I stopped + before the shops or to read the handbills. How many things there are to + learn in the streets of Paris! What a museum it is! Unknown fruits, + foreign arms, furniture of old times or other lands, animals of all + climates, statues of great men, costumes of distant nations! It is the + world seen in samples! + </p> + <p> + Let us then look at this people, whose knowledge is gained from the + shop-windows and the tradesman’s display of goods. Nothing has been taught + them, but they have a rude notion of everything. They have seen pineapples + at Chevet’s, a palm-tree in the Jardin des Plantes, sugar-canes selling on + the Pont-Neuf. The Redskins, exhibited in the Valentine Hall, have taught + them to mimic the dance of the bison, and to smoke the calumet of peace; + they have seen Carter’s lions fed; they know the principal national + costumes contained in Babin’s collection; Goupil’s display of prints has + placed the tiger-hunts of Africa and the sittings of the English + Parliament before their eyes; they have become acquainted with Queen + Victoria, the Emperor of Austria, and Kossuth, at the office-door of the + Illustrated News. We can certainly instruct them, but not astonish them; + for nothing is completely new to them. You may take the Paris ragamuffin + through the five quarters of the world, and at every wonder with which you + think to surprise him, he will settle the matter with that favorite and + conclusive answer of his class—“I know.” + </p> + <p> + But this variety of exhibitions, which makes Paris the fair of the world, + does not offer merely a means of instruction to him who walks through it; + it is a continual spur for rousing the imagination, a first step of the + ladder always set up before us in a vision. When we see them, how many + voyages do we take in imagination, what adventures do we dream of, what + pictures do we sketch! I never look at that shop near the Chinese baths, + with its tapestry hangings of Florida jessamine, and filled with + magnolias, without seeing the forest glades of the New World, described by + the author of Atala, opening themselves out before me. + </p> + <p> + Then, when this study of things and this discourse of reason begin to tire + you, look around you! What contrasts of figures and faces you see in the + crowd! What a vast field for the exercise of meditation! A half-seen + glance, or a few words caught as the speaker passes by, open a thousand + vistas to your imagination. You wish to comprehend what these imperfect + disclosures mean, and, as the antiquary endeavors to decipher the + mutilated inscription on some old monument, you build up a history on a + gesture or on a word! These are the stirring sports of the mind, which + finds in fiction a relief from the wearisome dullness of the actual. + </p> + <p> + Alas! as I was just now passing by the carriage-entrance of a great house, + I noticed a sad subject for one of these histories. A man was sitting in + the darkest corner, with his head bare, and holding out his hat for the + charity of those who passed. His threadbare coat had that look of neatness + which marks that destitution has been met by a long struggle. He had + carefully buttoned it up to hide the want of a shirt. His face was half + hid under his gray hair, and his eyes were closed, as if he wished to + escape the sight of his own humiliation, and he remained mute and + motionless. Those who passed him took no notice of the beggar, who sat in + silence and darkness! They had been so lucky as to escape complaints and + importunities, and were glad to turn away their eyes too. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the great gate turned on its hinges; and a very low carriage, + lighted with silver lamps and drawn by two black horses, came slowly out, + and took the road toward the Faubourg St. Germain. I could just + distinguish, within, the sparkling diamonds and the flowers of a + ball-dress; the glare of the lamps passed like a bloody streak over the + pale face of the beggar, and showed his look as his eyes opened and + followed the rich man’s equipage until it disappeared in the night. + </p> + <p> + I dropped a small piece of money into the hat he was holding out, and + passed on quickly. + </p> + <p> + I had just fallen unexpectedly upon the two saddest secrets of the disease + which troubles the age we live in: the envious hatred of him who suffers + want, and the selfish forgetfulness of him who lives in affluence. + </p> + <p> + All the enjoyment of my walk was gone; I left off looking about me, and + retired into my own heart. The animated and moving sight in the streets + gave place to inward meditation upon all the painful problems which have + been written for the last four thousand years at the bottom of each human + struggle, but which are propounded more clearly than ever in our days. + </p> + <p> + I pondered on the uselessness of so many contests, in which defeat and + victory only displace each other by turns, and on the mistaken zealots who + have repeated from generation to generation the bloody history of Cain and + Abel; and, saddened with these mournful reflections, I walked on as chance + took me, until the silence all around insensibly drew me out from my own + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + I had reached one of the remote streets, in which those who would live in + comfort and without ostentation, and who love serious reflection, delight + to find a home. There were no shops along the dimly lighted street; one + heard no sounds but of distant carriages, and of the steps of some of the + inhabitants returning quietly home. + </p> + <p> + I instantly recognized the street, though I had been there only once + before. + </p> + <p> + That was two years ago. I was walking at the time by the side of the + Seine, to which the lights on the quays and bridges gave the aspect of a + lake surrounded by a garland of stars; and I had reached the Louvre, when + I was stopped by a crowd collected near the parapet they had gathered + round a child of about six, who was crying, and I asked the cause of his + tears. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that he was sent to walk in the Tuileries,” said a mason, who + was returning from his work with his trowel in his hand; “the servant who + took care of him met with some friends there, and told the child to wait + for him while he went to get a drink; but I suppose the drink made him + more thirsty, for he has not come back, and the child cannot find his way + home.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do they not ask him his name, and where he lives?” + </p> + <p> + “They have been doing it for the last hour; but all he can say is, that he + is called Charles, and that his father is Monsieur Duval—there are + twelve hundred Duvals in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he does not know in what part of the town he lives?” + </p> + <p> + “I should not think, indeed! Don’t you see that he is a gentleman’s child? + He has never gone out except in a carriage or with a servant; he does not + know what to do by himself.” + </p> + <p> + Here the mason was interrupted by some of the voices rising above the + others. + </p> + <p> + “We cannot leave him in the street,” said some. + </p> + <p> + “The child-stealers would carry him off,” continued others. + </p> + <p> + “We must take him to the overseer.” + </p> + <p> + “Or to the police-office.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the thing. Come, little one!” + </p> + <p> + But the child, frightened by these suggestions of danger, and at the names + of police and overseer, cried louder, and drew back toward the parapet. In + vain they tried to persuade him; his fears made him resist the more, and + the most eager began to get weary, when the voice of a little boy was + heard through the confusion. + </p> + <p> + “I know him well—I do,” said he, looking at the lost child; “he + belongs in our part of the town.” + </p> + <p> + “What part is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yonder, on the other side of the Boulevards—Rue des Magasins.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have seen him before?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! he belongs to the great house at the end of the street, where + there is an iron gate with gilt points.” + </p> + <p> + The child quickly raised his head, and stopped crying. The little boy + answered all the questions that were put to him, and gave such details as + left no room for doubt. The other child understood him, for he went up to + him as if to put himself under his protection. + </p> + <p> + “Then you can take him to his parents?” asked the mason, who had listened + with real interest to the little boy’s account. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care if I do,” replied he; “it’s the way I’m going.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will take charge of him?” + </p> + <p> + “He has only to come with me.” + </p> + <p> + And, taking up the basket he had put down on the pavement, he set off + toward the postern-gate of the Louvre. + </p> + <p> + The lost child followed him. + </p> + <p> + “I hope he will take him right,” said I, when I saw them go away. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear,” replied the mason; “the little one in the blouse is the same + age as the other; but, as the saying is, he knows black from white;’ + poverty, you see, is a famous schoolmistress!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd dispersed. For my part, I went toward the Louvre; the thought + came into my head to follow the two children, so as to guard against any + mistake. + </p> + <p> + I was not long in overtaking them; they were walking side by side, + talking, and already quite familiar with each other. The contrast in their + dress then struck me. Little Duval wore one of those fanciful children’s + dresses which are expensive as well as in good taste; his coat was + skilfully fitted to his figure, his trousers came down in plaits from his + waist to his boots of polished leather with mother-of-pearl buttons, and + his ringlets were half hid by a velvet cap. The appearance of his guide, + on the contrary, was that of the class who dwell on the extreme borders of + poverty, but who there maintain their ground with no surrender. His old + blouse, patched with pieces of different shades, indicated the + perseverance of an industrious mother struggling against the wear and tear + of time; his trousers were become too short, and showed his stockings + darned over and over again; and it was evident that his shoes were not + made for him. + </p> + <p> + The countenances of the two children were not less different than their + dress. That of the first was delicate and refined; his clear blue eye, his + fair skin, and his smiling mouth gave him a charming look of innocence and + happiness. The features of the other, on the contrary, had something rough + in them; his eye was quick and lively, his complexion dark, his smile less + merry than shrewd; all showed a mind sharpened by too early experience; he + walked boldly through the middle of the streets thronged by carriages, and + followed their countless turnings without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + I found, on asking him, that every day he carried dinner to his father, + who was then working on the left bank of the Seine; and this responsible + duty had made him careful and prudent. He had learned those hard but + forcible lessons of necessity which nothing can equal or supply the place + of. Unfortunately, the wants of his poor family had kept him from school, + and he seemed to feel the loss; for he often stopped before the + printshops, and asked his companion to read him the names of the + engravings. In this way we reached the Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle, which the + little wanderer seemed to know again. Notwithstanding his fatigue, he + hurried on; he was agitated by mixed feelings; at the sight of his house + he uttered a cry, and ran toward the iron gate with the gilt points; a + lady who was standing at the entrance received him in her arms, and from + the exclamations of joy, and the sound of kisses, I soon perceived she was + his mother. + </p> + <p> + Not seeing either the servant or child return, she had sent in search of + them in every direction, and was waiting for them in intense anxiety. + </p> + <p> + I explained to her in a few words what had happened. She thanked me + warmly, and looked round for the little boy who had recognized and brought + back her son; but while we were talking, he had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + It was for the first time since then that I had come into this part of + Paris. Did the mother continue grateful? Had the children met again, and + had the happy chance of their first meeting lowered between them that + barrier which may mark the different ranks of men, but should not divide + them? + </p> + <p> + While putting these questions to myself, I slackened my pace, and fixed my + eyes on the great gate, which I just perceived. Suddenly I saw it open, + and two children appeared at the entrance. Although much grown, I + recognized them at first sight; they were the child who was found near the + parapet of the Louvre, and his young guide. But the dress of the latter + was greatly changed: his blouse of gray cloth was neat, and even spruce, + and was fastened round the waist by a polished leather belt; he wore + strong shoes, but made for his feet, and had on a new cloth cap. Just at + the moment I saw him, he held in his two hands an enormous bunch of + lilacs, to which his companion was trying to add narcissuses and + primroses; the two children laughed, and parted with a friendly good-by. + M. Duval’s son did not go in till he had seen the other turn the corner of + the street. + </p> + <p> + Then I accosted the latter, and reminded him of our former meeting; he + looked at me for a moment, and then seemed to recollect me. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me if I do not make you a bow,” said he, merrily, “but I want + both my hands for the nosegay Monsieur Charles has given me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are, then, become great friends?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I should think so,” said the child; “and now my father is rich too!” + </p> + <p> + “How’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Duval lent him some money; he has taken a shop, where he works + on his own account; and, as for me, I go to school.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied I, remarking for the first time the cross that decorated + his little coat; “and I see that you are head-boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Charles helps me to learn, and so I am come to be the first in + the class.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you now going to your lessons?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and he has given me some lilacs; for he has a garden where we play + together, and where my mother can always have flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is the same as if it were partly your own.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is! Ah! they are good neighbors indeed. But here I am; good-by, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded to me with a smile, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + I went on with my walk, still pensive, but with a feeling of relief. If I + had elsewhere witnessed the painful contrast between affluence and want, + here I had found the true union of riches and poverty. Hearty good-will + had smoothed down the more rugged inequalities on both sides, and had + opened a road of true neighborhood and fellowship between the humble + workshop and the stately mansion. Instead of hearkening to the voice of + interest, they had both listened to that of self-sacrifice, and there was + no place left for contempt or envy. Thus, instead of the beggar in rags, + that I had seen at the other door cursing the rich man, I had found here + the happy child of the laborer loaded with flowers and blessing him! The + problem, so difficult and so dangerous to examine into with no regard but + for the rights of it, I had just seen solved by love. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. COMPENSATION + </h2> + <h3> + Sunday, May 27th + </h3> + <p> + Capital cities have one thing peculiar to them: their days of rest seem to + be the signal for a general dispersion and flight. Like birds that are + just restored to liberty, the people come out of their stone cages, and + joyfully fly toward the country. It is who shall find a green hillock for + a seat, or the shade of a wood for a shelter; they gather May flowers, + they run about the fields; the town is forgotten until the evening, when + they return with sprigs of blooming hawthorn in their hats, and their + hearts gladdened by pleasant thoughts and recollections of the past day; + the next day they return again to their harness and to work. + </p> + <p> + These rural adventures are most remarkable at Paris. When the fine weather + comes, clerks, shop keepers, and workingmen look forward impatiently for + the Sunday as the day for trying a few hours of this pastoral life; they + walk through six miles of grocers’ shops and public-houses in the + faubourgs, in the sole hope of finding a real turnip-field. The father of + a family begins the practical education of his son by showing him wheat + which has not taken the form of a loaf, and cabbage “in its wild state.” + Heaven only knows the encounters, the discoveries, the adventures that are + met with! What Parisian has not had his Odyssey in an excursion through + the suburbs, and would not be able to write a companion to the famous + Travels by Land and by Sea from Paris to St. Cloud? + </p> + <p> + We do not now speak of that floating population from all parts, for whom + our French Babylon is the caravansary of Europe: a phalanx of thinkers, + artists, men of business, and travellers, who, like Homer’s hero, have + arrived in their intellectual country after beholding “many peoples and + cities;” but of the settled Parisian, who keeps his appointed place, and + lives on his own floor like the oyster on his rock, a curious vestige of + the credulity, the slowness, and the simplicity of bygone ages. + </p> + <p> + For one of the singularities of Paris is, that it unites twenty + populations completely different in character and manners. By the side of + the gypsies of commerce and of art, who wander through all the several + stages of fortune or fancy, live a quiet race of people with an + independence, or with regular work, whose existence resembles the dial of + a clock, on which the same hand points by turns to the same hours. If no + other city can show more brilliant and more stirring forms of life, no + other contains more obscure and more tranquil ones. Great cities are like + the sea: storms agitate only the surface; if you go to the bottom, you + find a region inaccessible to the tumult and the noise. + </p> + <p> + For my part, I have settled on the verge of this region, but do not + actually live in it. I am removed from the turmoil of the world, and live + in the shelter of solitude, but without being able to disconnect my + thoughts from the struggle going on. I follow at a distance all its events + of happiness or grief; I join the feasts and the funerals; for how can he + who looks on, and knows what passes, do other than take part? Ignorance + alone can keep us strangers to the life around us: selfishness itself will + not suffice for that. + </p> + <p> + These reflections I made to myself in my attic, in the intervals of the + various household works to which a bachelor is forced when he has no other + servant than his own ready will. While I was pursuing my deductions, I had + blacked my boots, brushed my coat, and tied my cravat; I had at last + arrived at the important moment when we pronounce complacently that all is + finished, and that well. + </p> + <p> + A grand resolve had just decided me to depart from my usual habits. The + evening before, I had seen by the advertisements that the next day was a + holiday at Sevres, and that the china manufactory would be open to the + public. I was tempted by the beauty of the morning, and suddenly decided + to go there. + </p> + <p> + On my arrival at the station on the left bank, I noticed the crowd + hurrying on in the fear of being late. Railroads, besides many other + advantages, possess that of teaching the French punctuality. They will + submit to the clock when they are convinced that it is their master; they + will learn to wait when they find they will not be waited for. Social + virtues, are, in a great degree, good habits. How many great qualities are + grafted into nations by their geographical position, by political + necessity, and by institutions! Avarice was destroyed for a time among the + Lacedaemonians by the creation of an iron coinage, too heavy and too bulky + to be conveniently hoarded. + </p> + <p> + I found myself in a carriage with two middle-aged women belonging to the + domestic and retired class of Parisians I have spoken of above. A few + civilities were sufficient to gain me their confidence, and after some + minutes I was acquainted with their whole history. + </p> + <p> + They were two poor sisters, left orphans at fifteen, and had lived ever + since, as those who work for their livelihood must live, by economy and + privation. For the last twenty or thirty years they had worked in jewelry + in the same house; they had seen ten masters succeed one another, and make + their fortunes in it, without any change in their own lot. They had always + lived in the same room, at the end of one of the passages in the Rue St. + Denis, where the air and the sun are unknown. They began their work before + daylight, went on with it till after nightfall, and saw year succeed to + year without their lives being marked by any other events than the Sunday + service, a walk, or an illness. + </p> + <p> + The younger of these worthy work-women was forty, and obeyed her sister as + she did when a child. The elder looked after her, took care of her, and + scolded her with a mother’s tenderness. At first it was amusing; afterward + one could not help seeing something affecting in these two gray-haired + children, one unable to leave off the habit of obeying, the other that of + protecting. + </p> + <p> + And it was not in that alone that my two companions seemed younger than + their years; they knew so little that their wonder never ceased. We had + hardly arrived at Clamart before they involuntarily exclaimed, like the + king in the children’s game, that they “did not think the world was so + great”! + </p> + <p> + It was the first time they had trusted themselves on a railroad, and it + was amusing to see their sudden shocks, their alarms, and their courageous + determinations: everything was a marvel to them! They had remains of youth + within them, which made them sensible to things which usually only strike + us in childhood. Poor creatures! they had still the feelings of another + age, though they had lost its charms. + </p> + <p> + But was there not something holy in this simplicity, which had been + preserved to them by abstinence from all the joys of life? Ah! accursed be + he who first had the bad courage to attach ridicule to that name of “old + maid,” which recalls so many images of grievous deception, of dreariness, + and of abandonment! Accursed be he who can find a subject for sarcasm in + involuntary misfortune, and who can crown gray hairs with thorns! + </p> + <p> + The two sisters were called Frances and Madeleine. This day’s journey was + a feat of courage without example in their lives. The fever of the times + had infected them unawares. Yesterday Madeleine had suddenly proposed the + idea of the expedition, and Frances had accepted it immediately. Perhaps + it would have been better not to yield to the great temptation offered by + her younger sister; but “we have our follies at all ages,” as the prudent + Frances philosophically remarked. As for Madeleine, there are no regrets + or doubts for her; she is the life-guardsman of the establishment. + </p> + <p> + “We really must amuse ourselves,” said she; “we live but once.” + </p> + <p> + And the elder sister smiled at this Epicurean maxim. It was evident that + the fever of independence was at its crisis in both of them. + </p> + <p> + And in truth it would have been a great pity if any scruple had interfered + with their happiness, it was so frank and genial! The sight of the trees, + which seemed to fly on both sides of the road, caused them unceasing + admiration. The meeting a train passing in the contrary direction, with + the noise and rapidity of a thunderbolt, made them shut their eyes and + utter a cry; but it had already disappeared! They look around, take + courage again, and express themselves full of astonishment at the marvel. + </p> + <p> + Madeleine declares that such a sight is worth the expense of the journey, + and Frances would have agreed with her if she had not recollected, with + some little alarm, the deficit which such an expense must make in their + budget. The three francs spent upon this single expedition were the + savings of a whole week of work. Thus the joy of the elder of the two + sisters was mixed with remorse; the prodigal child now and then turned its + eyes toward the back street of St. Denis. + </p> + <p> + But the motion and the succession of objects distract her. See the bridge + of the Val surrounded by its lovely landscape: on the right, Paris with + its grand monuments, which rise through the fog, or sparkle in the sun; on + the left, Meudon, with its villas, its woods, its vines, and its royal + castle! The two work-women look from one window to the other with + exclamations of delight. One fellow-passenger laughs at their childish + wonder; but to me it is deeply touching, for I see in it the sign of a + long and monotonous seclusion: they are the prisoners of work, who have + recovered liberty and fresh air for a few hours. + </p> + <p> + At last the train stops, and we get out. I show the two sisters the path + that leads to Sevres, between the railway and the gardens, and they go on + before, while I inquire about the time of returning. + </p> + <p> + I soon join them again at the next station, where they have stopped at the + little garden belonging to the gatekeeper; both are already in deep + conversation with him while he digs his garden-borders, and marks out the + places for flower-seeds. He informs them that it is the time for hoeing + out weeds, for making grafts and layers, for sowing annuals, and for + destroying the insects on the rose-trees. Madeleine has on the sill of her + window two wooden boxes, in which, for want of air and sun, she has never + been able to make anything grow but mustard and cress; but she persuades + herself that, thanks to this information, all other plants may henceforth + thrive in them. At last the gatekeeper, who is sowing a border with + mignonette, gives her the rest of the seeds which he does not want, and + the old maid goes off delighted, and begins to act over again the dream of + Paired and her can of milk, with these flowers of her imagination. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the grove of acacias, where the fair was going on, I lost + sight of the two sisters. I went alone among the sights: there were + lotteries going on, mountebank shows, places for eating and drinking, and + for shooting with the cross-bow. I have always been struck by the spirit + of these out-of-door festivities. In drawing-room entertainments, people + are cold, grave, often listless, and most of those who go there are + brought together by habit or the obligations of society; in the country + assemblies, on the contrary, you only find those who are attracted by the + hope of enjoyment. There, it is a forced conscription; here, they are + volunteers for gayety! Then, how easily they are pleased! How far this + crowd of people is yet from knowing that to be pleased with nothing, and + to look down on everything, is the height of fashion and good taste! + Doubtless their amusements are often coarse; elegance and refinement are + wanting in them; but at least they have heartiness. Oh, that the hearty + enjoyments of these merry-makings could be retained in union with less + vulgar feeling! Formerly religion stamped its holy character on the + celebration of country festivals, and purified the pleasures without + depriving them of their simplicity. + </p> + <p> + The hour arrives at which the doors of the porcelain manufactory and the + museum of pottery are open to the public. I meet Frances and Madeleine + again in the first room. Frightened at finding themselves in the midst of + such regal magnificence, they hardly dare walk; they speak in a low tone, + as if they were in a church. + </p> + <p> + “We are in the king’s house,” said the eldest sister, forgetting that + there is no longer a king in France. + </p> + <p> + I encourage them to go on; I walk first, and they make up their minds to + follow me. + </p> + <p> + What wonders are brought together in this collection! Here we see clay + moulded into every shape, tinted with every color, and combined with every + sort of substance! + </p> + <p> + Earth and wood are the first substances worked upon by man, and seem more + particularly meant for his use. They, like the domestic animals, are the + essential accessories of his life; therefore there must be a more intimate + connection between them and us. Stone and metals require long + preparations; they resist our first efforts, and belong less to the + individual than to communities. Earth and wood are, on the contrary, the + principal instruments of the isolated being who must feed and shelter + himself. + </p> + <p> + This, doubtless, makes me feel so much interested in the collection I am + examining. These cups, so roughly modelled by the savage, admit me to a + knowledge of some of his habits; these elegant yet incorrectly formed + vases of the Indian tell me of a declining intelligence,—in which + still glimmers the twilight of what was once bright sunshine; these jars, + loaded with arabesques, show the fancy of the Arab rudely and ignorantly + copied by the Spaniard! We find here the stamp of every race, every + country, and every age. + </p> + <p> + My companions seemed little interested in these historical associations; + they looked at all with that credulous admiration which leaves no room for + examination or discussion. Madeleine read the name written under every + piece of workmanship, and her sister answered with an exclamation of + wonder. + </p> + <p> + In this way we reached a little courtyard, where they had thrown away the + fragments of some broken china. + </p> + <p> + Frances perceived a colored saucer almost whole, of which she took + possession as a record of the visit she was making; henceforth she would + have a specimen of the Sevres china, “which is only made for kings!” I + would not undeceive her by telling her that the products of the + manufactory are sold all over the world, and that her saucer, before it + was cracked, was the same as those that are bought at the shops for + sixpence! Why should I destroy the illusions of her humble existence? Are + we to break down the hedge-flowers that perfume our paths? Things are + oftenest nothing in themselves; the thoughts we attach to them alone give + them value. To rectify innocent mistakes, in order to recover some useless + reality, is to be like those learned men who will see nothing in a plant + but the chemical elements of which it is composed. + </p> + <p> + On leaving the manufactory, the two sisters, who had taken possession of + me with the freedom of artlessness, invited me to share the luncheon they + had brought with them. I declined at first, but they insisted with so much + good-nature, that I feared to pain them, and with some awkwardness gave + way. + </p> + <p> + We had only to look for a convenient spot. I led them up the hill, and we + found a plot of grass enamelled with daisies, and shaded by two + walnut-trees. + </p> + <p> + Madeleine could not contain herself for joy. All her life she had dreamed + of a dinner out on the grass! While helping her sister to take the + provisions from the basket, she tells me of all her expeditions into the + country that had been planned, and put off. Frances, on the other hand, + was brought up at Montmorency, and before she became an orphan she had + often gone back to her nurse’s house. That which had the attraction of + novelty for her sister, had for her the charm of recollection. She told of + the vintage harvests to which her parents had taken her; the rides on + Mother Luret’s donkey, that they could not make go to the right without + pulling him to the left; the cherry-gathering; and the sails on the lake + in the innkeeper’s boat. + </p> + <p> + These recollections have all the charm and freshness of childhood. Frances + recalls to herself less what she has seen than what she has felt. While + she is talking the cloth is laid, and we sit down under a tree. Before us + winds the valley of Sevres, its many-storied houses abutting upon the + gardens and the slopes of the hill; on the other side spreads out the park + of St. Cloud, with its magnificent clumps of trees interspersed with + meadows; above stretch the heavens like an immense ocean, in which the + clouds are sailing! I look at this beautiful country, and I listen to + these good old maids; I admire, and I am interested; and time passes + gently on without my perceiving it. + </p> + <p> + At last the sun sets, and we have to think of returning. While Madeleine + and Frances clear away the dinner, I walk down to the manufactory to ask + the hour. The merrymaking is at its height; the blasts of the trombones + resound from the band under the acacias. For a few moments I forget myself + with looking about; but I have promised the two sisters to take them back + to the Bellevue station; the train cannot wait, and I make haste to climb + the path again which leads to the walnut-trees. + </p> + <p> + Just before I reached them, I heard voices on the other side of the hedge. + Madeleine and Frances were speaking to a poor girl whose clothes were + burned, her hands blackened, and her face tied up with bloodstained + bandages. I saw that she was one of the girls employed at the gunpowder + mills, which are built further up on the common. An explosion had taken + place a few days before; the girl’s mother and elder sister were killed; + she herself escaped by a miracle, and was now left without any means of + support. She told all this with the resigned and unhopeful manner of one + who has always been accustomed to suffer. The two sisters were much + affected; I saw them consulting with each other in a low tone: then + Frances took thirty sous out of a little coarse silk purse, which was all + they had left, and gave them to the poor girl. I hastened on to that side + of the hedge; but, before I reached it, I met the two old sisters, who + called out to me that they would not return by the railway, but on foot! + </p> + <p> + I then understood that the money they had meant for the journey had just + been given to the beggar! Good, like evil, is contagious: I run to the + poor wounded girl, give her the sum that was to pay for my own place, and + return to Frances and Madeleine, and tell them I will walk with them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + .......................... +</pre> + <p> + I am just come back from taking them home; and have left them delighted + with their day, the recollection of which will long make them happy. This + morning I was pitying those whose lives are obscure and joyless; now, I + understand that God has provided a compensation with every trial. The + smallest pleasure derives from rarity a relish otherwise unknown. + Enjoyment is only what we feel to be such, and the luxurious man feels no + longer: satiety has destroyed his appetite, while privation preserves to + the other that first of earthly blessings: the being easily made happy. + Oh, that I could persuade every one of this! that so the rich might not + abuse their riches, and that the poor might have patience. If happiness is + the rarest of blessings, it is because the reception of it is the rarest + of virtues. + </p> + <p> + Madeleine and Frances! ye poor old maids whose courage, resignation, and + generous hearts are your only wealth, pray for the wretched who give + themselves up to despair; for the unhappy who hate and envy; and for the + unfeeling into whose enjoyments no pity enters. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. UNCLE MAURICE + </h2> + <p> + June 7th, Four O’clock A.M. + </p> + <p> + I am not surprised at hearing, when I awake, the birds singing so joyfully + outside my window; it is only by living, as they and I do, in a top story, + that one comes to know how cheerful the mornings really are up among the + roofs. It is there that the sun sends his first rays, and the breeze comes + with the fragrance of the gardens and woods; there that a wandering + butterfly sometimes ventures among the flowers of the attic, and that the + songs of the industrious work-woman welcome the dawn of day. The lower + stories are still deep in sleep, silence, and shadow, while here labor, + light, and song already reign. + </p> + <p> + What life is around me! See the swallow returning from her search for + food, with her beak full of insects for her young ones; the sparrows shake + the dew from their wings while they chase one another in the sunshine; and + my neighbors throw open their windows, and welcome the morning with their + fresh faces! Delightful hour of waking, when everything returns to feeling + and to motion; when the first light of day strikes upon creation, and + brings it to life again, as the magic wand struck the palace of the + Sleeping Beauty in the wood! It is a moment of rest from every misery; the + sufferings of the sick are allayed, and a breath of hope enters into the + hearts of the despairing. But, alas! it is but a short respite! Everything + will soon resume its wonted course: the great human machine, with its long + strains, its deep gasps, its collisions, and its crashes, will be again + put in motion. + </p> + <p> + The tranquillity of this first morning hour reminds me of that of our + first years of life. Then, too, the sun shines brightly, the air is + fragrant, and the illusions of youth-those birds of our life’s + morning-sing around us. Why do they fly away when we are older? Where do + this sadness and this solitude, which gradually steal upon us, come from? + The course seems to be the same with individuals and with communities: at + starting, so readily made happy, so easily enchanted; and at the goal, the + bitter disappointment or reality! The road, which began among hawthorns + and primroses, ends speedily in deserts or in precipices! Why is there so + much confidence at first, so much doubt at last? Has, then, the knowledge + of life no other end but to make it unfit for happiness? Must we condemn + ourselves to ignorance if we would preserve hope? Is the world and is the + individual man intended, after all, to find rest only in an eternal + childhood? + </p> + <p> + How many times have I asked myself these questions! Solitude has the + advantage or the danger of making us continually search more deeply into + the same ideas. As our discourse is only with ourself, we always give the + same direction to the conversation; we are not called to turn it to the + subject which occupies another mind, or interests another’s feelings; and + so an involuntary inclination makes us return forever to knock at the same + doors! + </p> + <p> + I interrupted my reflections to put my attic in order. I hate the look of + disorder, because it shows either a contempt for details or an unaptness + for spiritual life. To arrange the things among which we have to live, is + to establish the relation of property and of use between them and us: it + is to lay the foundation of those habits without which man tends to the + savage state. What, in fact, is social organization but a series of + habits, settled in accordance with the dispositions of our nature? + </p> + <p> + I distrust both the intellect and the morality of those people to whom + disorder is of no consequence—who can live at ease in an Augean + stable. What surrounds us, reflects more or less that which is within us. + The mind is like one of those dark lanterns which, in spite of everything, + still throw some light around. If our tastes did not reveal our character, + they would be no longer tastes, but instincts. + </p> + <p> + While I was arranging everything in my attic, my eyes rested on the little + almanac hanging over my chimney-piece. I looked for the day of the month, + and I saw these words written in large letters: “FETE DIEU!” + </p> + <p> + It is to-day! In this great city, where there are no longer any public + religious solemnities, there is nothing to remind us of it; but it is, in + truth, the period so happily chosen by the primitive church. “The day kept + in honor of the Creator,” says Chateaubriand, “happens at a time when the + heaven and the earth declare His power, when the woods and fields are full + of new life, and all are united by the happiest ties; there is not a + single widowed plant in the fields.” + </p> + <p> + What recollections these words have just awakened! I left off what I was + about, I leaned my elbows on the windowsill, and, with my head between my + two hands, I went back in thought to the little town where the first days + of my childhood were passed. + </p> + <p> + The ‘Fete Dieu’ was then one of the great events of my life! It was + necessary to be diligent and obedient a long time beforehand, to deserve + to share in it. I still recollect with what raptures of expectation I got + up on the morning of the day. There was a holy joy in the air. The + neighbors, up earlier than usual, hung cloths with flowers or figures, + worked in tapestry, along the streets. I went from one to another, by + turns admiring religious scenes of the Middle Ages, mythological + compositions of the Renaissance, old battles in the style of Louis XIV, + and the Arcadias of Madame de Pompadour. All this world of phantoms seemed + to be coming forth from the dust of past ages, to assist—silent and + motionless—at the holy ceremony. I looked, alternately in fear and + wonder, at those terrible warriors with their swords always raised, those + beautiful huntresses shooting the arrow which never left the bow, and + those shepherds in satin breeches always playing the flute at the feet of + the perpetually smiling shepherdess. Sometimes, when the wind blew behind + these hanging pictures, it seemed to me that the figures themselves moved, + and I watched to see them detach themselves from the wall, and take their + places in the procession! But these impressions were vague and transitory. + The feeling that predominated over every other was that of an overflowing + yet quiet joy. In the midst of all the floating draperies, the scattered + flowers, the voices of the maidens, and the gladness which, like a + perfume, exhaled from everything, you felt transported in spite of + yourself. The joyful sounds of the festival were repeated in your heart, + in a thousand melodious echoes. You were more indulgent, more holy, more + loving! For God was not only manifesting himself without, but also within + us. + </p> + <p> + And then the altars for the occasion! the flowery arbors! the triumphal + arches made of green boughs! What competition among the different parishes + for the erection of the resting-places where the procession was to halt! + It was who should contribute the rarest and the most beautiful of his + possessions! + </p> + <p> + It was there I made my first sacrifice! + </p> + <p> + The wreaths of flowers were arranged, the candles lighted, and the + Tabernacle dressed with roses; but one was wanting fit to crown the whole! + All the neighboring gardens had been ransacked. I alone possessed a flower + worthy of such a place. It was on the rose-tree given me by my mother on + my birthday. I had watched it for several months, and there was no other + bud to blow on the tree. There it was, half open, in its mossy nest, the + object of such long expectations, and of all a child’s pride! I hesitated + for some moments. No one had asked me for it; I might easily avoid losing + it. I should hear no reproaches, but one rose noiselessly within me. When + every one else had given all they had, ought I alone to keep back my + treasure? Ought I to grudge to God one of the gifts which, like all the + rest, I had received from him? At this last thought I plucked the flower + from the stem, and took it to put at the top of the Tabernacle. Ah! why + does the recollection of this sacrifice, which was so hard and yet so + sweet to me, now make me smile? Is it so certain that the value of a gift + is in itself, rather than in the intention? If the cup of cold water in + the gospel is remembered to the poor man, why should not the flower be + remembered to the child? Let us not look down upon the child’s simple act + of generosity; it is these which accustom the soul to self-denial and to + sympathy. I cherished this moss-rose a long time as a sacred talisman; I + had reason to cherish it always, as the record of the first victory won + over myself. + </p> + <p> + It is now many years since I witnessed the celebration of the ‘Fete Dieu’; + but should I again feel in it the happy sensations of former days? I still + remember how, when the procession had passed, I walked through the streets + strewed with flowers and shaded with green boughs. I felt intoxicated by + the lingering perfumes of the incense, mixed with the fragrance of + syringas, jessamine, and roses, and I seemed no longer to touch the ground + as I went along. I smiled at everything; the whole world was Paradise in + my eyes, and it seemed to me that God was floating in the air! + </p> + <p> + Moreover, this feeling was not the excitement of the moment: it might be + more intense on certain days, but at the same time it continued through + the ordinary course of my life. Many years thus passed for me in an + expansion of heart, and a trustfulness which prevented sorrow, if not from + coming, at least from staying with me. Sure of not being alone, I soon + took heart again, like the child who recovers its courage, because it + hears its mother’s voice close by. Why have I lost that confidence of my + childhood? Shall I never feel again so deeply that God is here? + </p> + <p> + How strange the association of our thoughts! A day of the month recalls my + infancy, and see, all the recollections of my former years are growing up + around me! Why was I so happy then? I consider well, and nothing is + sensibly changed in my condition. I possess, as I did then, health and my + daily bread; the only difference is, that I am now responsible for myself! + As a child, I accepted life when it came; another cared and provided for + me. So long as I fulfilled my present duties I was at peace within, and I + left the future to the prudence of my father! My destiny was a ship, in + the directing of which I had no share, and in which I sailed as a common + passenger. There was the whole secret of childhood’s happy security. Since + then worldly wisdom has deprived me of it. When my lot was intrusted to my + own and sole keeping, I thought to make myself master of it by means of a + long insight into the future. I have filled the present hour with + anxieties, by occupying my thoughts with the future; I have put my + judgment in the place of Providence, and the happy child is changed into + the anxious man. + </p> + <p> + A melancholy course, yet perhaps an important lesson. Who knows that, if I + had trusted more to Him who rules the world, I should not have been spared + all this anxiety? It may be that happiness is not possible here below, + except on condition of living like a child, giving ourselves up to the + duties of each day as it comes, and trusting in the goodness of our + heavenly Father for all besides. + </p> + <p> + This reminds me of my Uncle Maurice! Whenever I have need to strengthen + myself in all that is good, I turn my thoughts to him; I see again the + gentle expression of his half-smiling, half-mournful face; I hear his + voice, always soft and soothing as a breath of summer! The remembrance of + him protects my life, and gives it light. He, too, was a saint and martyr + here below. Others have pointed out the path of heaven; he has taught us + to see those of earth aright. + </p> + <p> + But, except the angels, who are charged with noting down the sacrifices + performed in secret, and the virtues which are never known, who has ever + heard of my Uncle Maurice? Perhaps I alone remember his name, and still + recall his history. + </p> + <p> + Well! I will write it, not for others, but for myself! They say that, at + the sight of the Apollo, the body erects itself and assumes a more + dignified attitude: in the same way, the soul should feel itself raised + and ennobled by the recollection of a good man’s life! + </p> + <p> + A ray of the rising sun lights up the little table on which I write; the + breeze brings me in the scent of the mignonette, and the swallows wheel + about my window with joyful twitterings. The image of my Uncle Maurice + will be in its proper place amid the songs, the sunshine, and the + fragrance. + </p> + <p> + Seven o’clock.—It is with men’s lives as with days: some dawn + radiant with a thousand colors, others dark with gloomy clouds. That of my + Uncle Maurice was one of the latter. He was so sickly, when he came into + the world, that they thought he must die; but notwithstanding these + anticipations, which might be called hopes, he continued to live, + suffering and deformed. + </p> + <p> + He was deprived of all joys as well as of all the attractions of + childhood. He was oppressed because he was weak, and laughed at for his + deformity. In vain the little hunchback opened his arms to the world: the + world scoffed at him, and went its way. + </p> + <p> + However, he still had his mother, and it was to her that the child + directed all the feelings of a heart repelled by others. With her he found + shelter, and was happy, till he reached the age when a man must take his + place in life; and Maurice had to content himself with that which others + had refused with contempt. His education would have qualified him for any + course of life; and he became an octroi-clerk—[The octroi is the tax + on provisions levied at the entrance of the town]—in one of the + little toll-houses at the entrance of his native town. + </p> + <p> + He was always shut up in this dwelling of a few feet square, with no + relaxation from the office accounts but reading and his mother’s visits. + On fine summer days she came to work at the door of his hut, under the + shade of a clematis planted by Maurice. And, even when she was silent, her + presence was a pleasant change for the hunchback; he heard the clinking of + her long knitting-needles; he saw her mild and mournful profile, which + reminded him of so many courageously-borne trials; he could every now and + then rest his hand affectionately on that bowed neck, and exchange a smile + with her! + </p> + <p> + This comfort was soon to be taken from him. His old mother fell sick, and + at the end of a few days he had to give up all hope. Maurice was overcome + at the idea of a separation which would henceforth leave him alone on + earth, and abandoned himself to boundless grief. He knelt by the bedside + of the dying woman, he called her by the fondest names, he pressed her in + his arms, as if he could so keep her in life. His mother tried to return + his caresses, and to answer him; but her hands were cold, her voice was + already gone. She could only press her lips against the forehead of her + son, heave a sigh, and close her eyes forever! + </p> + <p> + They tried to take Maurice away, but he resisted them and threw himself on + that now motionless form. + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” cried he; “dead! She who had never left me, she who was the only + one in the world who loved me! You, my mother, dead! What then remains for + me here below?” + </p> + <p> + A stifled voice replied: + </p> + <p> + “God!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice, startled, raised himself! Was that a last sigh from the dead, or + his own conscience, that had answered him? He did not seek to know, but he + understood the answer, and accepted it. + </p> + <p> + It was then that I first knew him. I often went to see him in his little + toll-house. He joined in my childish games, told me his finest stories, + and let me gather his flowers. Deprived as he was of all external + attractiveness, he showed himself full of kindness to all who came to him, + and, though he never would put himself forward, he had a welcome for + everyone. Deserted, despised, he submitted to everything with a gentle + patience; and while he was thus stretched on the cross of life, amid the + insults of his executioners, he repeated with Christ, “Father, forgive + them, for they know not what they do.” + </p> + <p> + No other clerk showed so much honesty, zeal, and intelligence; but those + who otherwise might have promoted him as his services deserved were + repelled by his deformity. As he had no patrons, he found his claims were + always disregarded. They preferred before him those who were better able + to make themselves agreeable, and seemed to be granting him a favor when + letting him keep the humble office which enabled him to live. Uncle + Maurice bore injustice as he had borne contempt; unfairly treated by men, + he raised his eyes higher, and trusted in the justice of Him who cannot be + deceived. + </p> + <p> + He lived in an old house in the suburb, where many work-people, as poor + but not as forlorn as he, also lodged. Among these neighbors there was a + single woman, who lived by herself in a little garret, into which came + both wind and rain. She was a young girl, pale, silent, and with nothing + to recommend her but her wretchedness and her resignation to it. She was + never seen speaking to any other woman, and no song cheered her garret. + She worked without interest and without relaxation; a depressing gloom + seemed to envelop her like a shroud. Her dejection affected Maurice; he + attempted to speak to her; she replied mildly, but in few words. It was + easy to see that she preferred her silence and her solitude to the little + hunchback’s good-will; he perceived it, and said no more. + </p> + <p> + But Toinette’s needle was hardly sufficient for her support, and presently + work failed her! Maurice learned that the poor girl was in want of + everything, and that the tradesmen refused to give her credit. He + immediately went to them privately and engaged to pay them for what they + supplied Toinette with. + </p> + <p> + Things went on in this way for several months. The young dressmaker + continued out of work, until she was at last frightened at the bills she + had contracted with the shopkeepers. When she came to an explanation with + them, everything was discovered. Her first impulse was to run to Uncle + Maurice, and thank him on her knees. Her habitual reserve had given way to + a burst of deepest feeling. It seemed as if gratitude had melted all the + ice of that numbed heart. + </p> + <p> + Being now no longer embarrassed with a secret, the little hunchback could + give greater efficacy to his good offices. Toinette became to him a + sister, for whose wants he had a right to provide. It was the first time + since the death of his mother that he had been able to share his life with + another. The young woman received his attentions with feeling, but with + reserve. All Maurice’s efforts were insufficient to dispel her gloom: she + seemed touched by his kindness, and sometimes expressed her sense of it + with warmth; but there she stopped. Her heart was a closed book, which the + little hunchback might bend over, but could not read. In truth he cared + little to do so; he gave himself up to the happiness of being no longer + alone, and took Toinette such as her long trials had made her; he loved + her as she was, and wished for nothing else but still to enjoy her + company. + </p> + <p> + This thought insensibly took possession of his mind, to the exclusion of + all besides. The poor girl was as forlorn as himself; she had become + accustomed to the deformity of the hunchback, and she seemed to look on + him with an affectionate sympathy! What more could he wish for? Until + then, the hopes of making himself acceptable to a helpmate had been + repelled by Maurice as a dream; but chance seemed willing to make it a + reality. After much hesitation he took courage, and decided to speak to + her. + </p> + <p> + It was evening; the little hunchback, in much agitation, directed his + steps toward the work-woman’s garret just as he was about to enter, he + thought he heard a strange voice pronouncing the maiden’s name. He quickly + pushed open the door, and perceived Toinette weeping, and leaning on the + shoulder of a young man in the dress of a sailor. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of my uncle, she disengaged herself quickly, and ran to him, + crying out: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! come in—come in! It is he that I thought was dead: it is + Julien; it is my betrothed!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice tottered, and drew back. A single word had told him all! + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him as if the ground shook and his heart was about to break; + but the same voice that he had heard by his mother’s deathbed again + sounded in his ears, and he soon recovered himself. God was still his + friend! + </p> + <p> + He himself accompanied the newly-married pair on the road when they left + the town, and, after wishing them all the happiness which was denied to + him, he returned with resignation to the old house in the suburb. + </p> + <p> + It was there that he ended his life, forsaken by men, but not as he said + by the Father which is in heaven. He felt His presence everywhere; it was + to him in the place of all else. When he died, it was with a smile, and + like an exile setting out for his own country. He who had consoled him in + poverty and ill-health, when he was suffering from injustice and forsaken + by all, had made death a gain and blessing to him. + </p> + <p> + Eight o’clock.—All I have just written has pained me! Till now I + have looked into life for instruction how to live. Is it then true that + human maxims are not always sufficient? that beyond goodness, prudence, + moderation, humility, self-sacrifice itself, there is one great truth, + which alone can face great misfortunes? and that, if man has need of + virtues for others, he has need of religion for himself? + </p> + <p> + When, in youth, we drink our wine with a merry heart, as the Scripture + expresses it, we think we are sufficient for ourselves; strong, happy, and + beloved, we believe, like Ajax, we shall be able to escape every storm in + spite of the gods. But later in life, when the back is bowed, when + happiness proves a fading flower, and the affections grow chill-then, in + fear of the void and the darkness, we stretch out our arms, like the child + overtaken by night, and we call for help to Him who is everywhere. + </p> + <p> + I was asking this morning why this growing confusion alike for society and + for the individual? In vain does human reason from hour to hour light some + new torch on the roadside: the night continues to grow ever darker! Is it + not because we are content to withdraw farther and farther from God, the + Sun of spirits? + </p> + <p> + But what do these hermit’s reveries signify to the world? The inward + turmoils of most men are stifled by the outward ones; life does not give + them time to question themselves. Have they time to know what they are, + and what they should be, whose whole thoughts are in the next lease or the + last price of stock? Heaven is very high, and wise men look only at the + earth. + </p> + <p> + But I—poor savage amid all this civilization, who seek neither power + nor riches, and who have found in my own thoughts the home and shelter of + my spirit—I can go back with impunity to these recollections of my + childhood; and, if this our great city no longer honors the name of God + with a festival, I will strive still to keep the feast to Him in my heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE PRICE OF POWER AND THE WORTH OF FAME + </h2> + <h3> + Sunday, July 1st + </h3> + <p> + Yesterday the month dedicated to Juno (Junius, June) by the Romans ended. + To-day we enter on July. + </p> + <p> + In ancient Rome this latter month was called Quintiles (the fifth), + because the year, which was then divided into only ten parts, began in + March. When Numa Pompilius divided it into twelve months this name of + Quintiles was preserved, as well as those that followed—Sexteles, + September, October, November, December—although these designations + did not accord with the newly arranged order of the months. At last, after + a time the month Quintiles, in which Julius Caesar was born, was called + Julius, whence we have July. Thus this name, placed in the calendar, is + become the imperishable record of a great man; it is an immortal epitaph + on Time’s highway, engraved by the admiration of man. + </p> + <p> + How many similar inscriptions are there! Seas, continents, mountains, + stars, and monuments, have all in succession served the same purpose! We + have turned the whole world into a Golden Book, like that in which the + state of Venice used to enroll its illustrious names and its great deeds. + It seems that mankind feels a necessity for honoring itself in its elect + ones, and that it raises itself in its own eyes by choosing heroes from + among its own race. The human family love to preserve the memory; of the + parvenus of glory, as we cherish that of a great ancestor, or of a + benefactor. + </p> + <p> + In fact, the talents granted to a single individual do not benefit himself + alone, but are gifts to the world; everyone shares them, for everyone + suffers or benefits by his actions. Genius is a lighthouse, meant to give + light from afar; the man who bears it is but the rock upon which this + lighthouse is built. + </p> + <p> + I love to dwell upon these thoughts; they explain to me in what consists + our admiration for glory. When glory has benefited men, that admiration is + gratitude; when it is only remarkable in itself, it is the pride of race; + as men, we love to immortalize the most shining examples of humanity. + </p> + <p> + Who knows whether we do not obey the same instinct in submitting to the + hand of power? Apart from the requirements of a gradation of ranks, or the + consequences of a conquest, the multitude delight to surround their chiefs + with privileges—whether it be that their vanity makes them thus to + aggrandize one of their own creations, or whether they try to conceal the + humiliation of subjection by exaggerating the importance of those who rule + them. They wish to honor themselves through their master; they elevate him + on their shoulders as on a pedestal; they surround him with a halo of + light, in order that some of it may be reflected upon themselves. It is + still the fable of the dog who contents himself with the chain and collar, + so that they are of gold. + </p> + <p> + This servile vanity is not less natural or less common than the vanity of + dominion. Whoever feels himself incapable of command, at least desires to + obey a powerful chief. Serfs have been known to consider themselves + dishonored when they became the property of a mere count after having been + that of a prince, and Saint-Simon mentions a valet who would only wait + upon marquises. + </p> + <p> + July 7th, seven o’clock P. M.—I have just now been up the + Boulevards; it was the opera night, and there was a crowd of carriages in + the Rue Lepelletier. The foot-passengers who were stopped at a crossing + recognized the persons in some of these as we went by, and mentioned their + names; they were those of celebrated or powerful men, the successful ones + of the day. + </p> + <p> + Near me there was a man looking on with hollow cheeks and eager eyes, + whose thin black coat was threadbare. He followed with envious looks these + possessors of the privileges of power or of fame, and I read on his lips, + which curled with a bitter smile, all that passed in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Look at them, the lucky fellows!” thought he; “all the pleasures of + wealth, all the enjoyments of pride, are theirs. Their names are renowned, + all their wishes fulfilled; they are the sovereigns of the world, either + by their intellect or their power; and while I, poor and unknown, toil + painfully along the road below, they wing their way over the mountain-tops + gilded by the broad sunshine of prosperity.” + </p> + <p> + I have come home in deep thought. Is it true that there are these + inequalities, I do not say in the fortunes, but in the happiness of men? + Do genius and authority really wear life as a crown, while the greater + part of mankind receive it as a yoke? Is the difference of rank but a + different use of men’s dispositions and talents, or a real inequality in + their destinies? A solemn question, as it regards the verification of + God’s impartiality. + </p> + <p> + July 8th, noon.—I went this morning to call upon a friend from the + same province as myself, who is the first usher-in-waiting to one of our + ministers. I took him some letters from his family, left for him by a + traveller just come from Brittany. He wished me to stay. + </p> + <p> + “To-day,” said he, “the Minister gives no audience: he takes a day of rest + with his family. His younger sisters are arrived; he will take them this + morning to St. Cloud, and in the evening he has invited his friends to a + private ball. I shall be dismissed directly for the rest of the day. We + can dine together; read the news while you are waiting for me.” + </p> + <p> + I sat down at a table covered with newspapers, all of which I looked over + by turns. Most of them contained severe criticisms on the last political + acts of the minister; some of them added suspicions as to the honor of the + minister himself. + </p> + <p> + Just as I had finished reading, a secretary came for them to take them to + his master. + </p> + <p> + He was then about to read these accusations, to suffer silently the abuse + of all those tongues which were holding him up to indignation or to scorn! + Like the Roman victor in his triumph, he had to endure the insults of him + who followed his car, relating to the crowd his follies, his ignorance, or + his vices. + </p> + <p> + But, among the arrows shot at him from every side, would no one be found + poisoned? Would not one reach some spot in his heart where the wound would + be incurable? What is the worth of a life exposed to the attacks of + envious hatred or furious conviction? The Christians yielded only the + fragments of their flesh to the beasts of the amphitheatres; the man in + power gives up his peace, his affections, his honor, to the cruel bites of + the pen. + </p> + <p> + While I was musing upon these dangers of greatness, the usher entered + hastily. Important news had been received: the minister is just summoned + to the council; he will not be able to take his sisters to St. Cloud. + </p> + <p> + I saw, through the windows, the young ladies, who were waiting at the + door, sorrowfully go upstairs again, while their brother went off to the + council. The carriage, which should have gone filled with so much family + happiness, is just out of sight, carrying only the cares of a statesman in + it. + </p> + <p> + The usher came back discontented and disappointed. The more or less of + liberty which he is allowed to enjoy, is his barometer of the political + atmosphere. If he gets leave, all goes well; if he is kept at his post, + the country is in danger. His opinion on public affairs is but a + calculation of his own interest. My friend is almost a statesman. + </p> + <p> + I had some conversation with him, and he told me several curious + particulars of public life. + </p> + <p> + The new minister has old friends whose opinions he opposes, though he + still retains his personal regard for them. Though separated from them by + the colors he fights under, they remain united by old associations; but + the exigencies of party forbid him to meet them. If their intercourse + continued, it would awaken suspicion; people would imagine that some + dishonorable bargain was going on; his friends would be held to be + traitors desirous to sell themselves, and he the corrupt minister prepared + to buy them. He has, therefore, been obliged to break off friendships of + twenty years’ standing, and to sacrifice attachments which had become a + second nature. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, however, the minister still gives way to his old feelings; he + receives or visits his friends privately; he shuts himself up with them, + and talks of the times when they could be open friends. By dint of + precautions they have hitherto succeeded in concealing this blot of + friendship against policy; but sooner or later the newspapers will be + informed of it, and will denounce him to the country as an object of + distrust. + </p> + <p> + For whether hatred be honest or dishonest, it never shrinks from any + accusation. Sometimes it even proceeds to crime. The usher assured me that + several warnings had been given the minister which had made him fear the + vengeance of an assassin, and that he no longer ventured out on foot. + </p> + <p> + Then, from one thing to another, I learned what temptations came in to + mislead or overcome his judgment; how he found himself fatally led into + obliquities which he could not but deplore. Misled by passion, + over-persuaded by entreaties, or compelled for reputation’s sake, he has + many times held the balance with an unsteady hand. How sad the condition + of him who is in authority! Not only are the miseries of power imposed + upon him, but its vices also, which, not content with torturing, succeed + in corrupting him. + </p> + <p> + We prolonged our conversation till it was interrupted by the minister’s + return. He threw himself out of the carriage with a handful of papers, and + with an anxious manner went into his own room. An instant afterward his + bell was heard; his secretary was called to send off notices to all those + invited for the evening; the ball would not take place; they spoke + mysteriously of bad news transmitted by the telegraph, and in such + circumstances an entertainment would seem to insult the public sorrow. + </p> + <p> + I took leave of my friend, and here I am at home. What I have just seen is + an answer to my doubts the other day. Now I know with what pangs men pay + for their dignities; now I understand + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + That Fortune sells what we believe she gives. +</pre> + <p> + This explains to me the reason why Charles V. aspired to the repose of the + cloister. + </p> + <p> + And yet I have only glanced at some of the sufferings attached to power. + What shall I say of the falls in which its possessors are precipitated + from the heights of heaven to the very depths of the earth? of that path + of pain along which they must forever bear the burden of their + responsibility? of that chain of decorums and ennuis which encompasses + every act of their lives, and leaves them so little liberty? + </p> + <p> + The partisans of despotism adhere with reason to forms and ceremonies. If + men wish to give unlimited power to their fellow-man, they must keep him + separated from ordinary humanity; they must surround him with a continual + worship, and, by a constant ceremonial, keep up for him the superhuman + part they have granted him. Our masters cannot remain absolute, except on + condition of being treated as idols. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, these idols are men, and, if the exclusive life they must + lead is an insult to the dignity of others, it is also a torment to + themselves. Everyone knows the law of the Spanish court, which used to + regulate, hour by hour, the actions of the king and queen; “so that,” says + Voltaire, “by reading it one can tell all that the sovereigns of Spain + have done, or will do, from Philip II to the day of judgment.” It was by + this law that Philip III, when sick, was obliged to endure such an excess + of heat that he died in consequence, because the Duke of Uzeda, who alone + had the right to put out the fire in the royal chamber, happened to be + absent. + </p> + <p> + When the wife of Charles II was run away with on a spirited horse, she was + about to perish before anyone dared to save her, because etiquette forbade + them to touch the queen. Two young officers endangered their lives for her + by stopping the horse. The prayers and tears of her whom they had just + snatched from death were necessary to obtain pardon for their crime. Every + one knows the anecdote related by Madame Campan of Marie Antoinette, wife + of Louis XVI. One day, being at her toilet, when the chemise was about to + be presented to her by one of the assistants, a lady of very ancient + family entered and claimed the honor, as she had the right by etiquette; + but, at the moment she was about to fulfil her duty, a lady of higher rank + appeared, and in her turn took the garment she was about to offer to the + queen; when a third lady of still higher title came in her turn, and was + followed by a fourth, who was no other than the king’s sister. The chemise + was in this manner passed from hand to hand, with ceremonies, courtesies, + and compliments, before it came to the queen, who, half naked and quite + ashamed, was shivering with cold for the great honor of etiquette. + </p> + <p> + 12th, seven o’clock, P.M.—On coming home this evening, I saw, + standing at the door of a house, an old man, whose appearance and features + reminded me of my father. There was the same beautiful smile, the same + deep and penetrating eye, the same noble bearing of the head, and the same + careless attitude. + </p> + <p> + I began living over again the first years of my life, and recalling to + myself the conversations of that guide whom God in his mercy had given me, + and whom in his severity he had too soon withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + When my father spoke, it was not only to bring our two minds together by + an interchange of thought, but his words always contained instruction. + </p> + <p> + Not that he endeavored to make me feel it so: my father feared everything + that had the appearance of a lesson. He used to say that virtue could make + herself devoted friends, but she did not take pupils: therefore he was not + desirous to teach goodness; he contented himself with sowing the seeds of + it, certain that experience would make them grow. + </p> + <p> + How often has good grain fallen thus into a corner of the heart, and, when + it has been long forgotten, all at once put forth the blade and come into + ear! It is a treasure laid aside in a time of ignorance, and we do not + know its value till we find ourselves in need of it. + </p> + <p> + Among the stories with which he enlivened our walks or our evenings, there + is one which now returns to my memory, doubtless because the time is come + to derive its lesson from it. + </p> + <p> + My father, who was apprenticed at the age of twelve to one of those + trading collectors who call themselves naturalists, because they put all + creation under glasses that they may sell it by retail, had always led a + life of poverty and labor. Obliged to rise before daybreak, by turns + shop-boy, clerk, and laborer, he was made to bear alone all the work of a + trade of which his master reaped all the profits. In truth, this latter + had a peculiar talent for making the most of the labor of other people. + Though unfit himself for the execution of any kind of work, no one knew + better how to sell it. His words were a net, in which people found + themselves taken before they were aware. And since he was devoted to + himself alone, and looked on the producer as his enemy, and the buyer as + prey, he used them both with that obstinate perseverance which avarice + teaches. + </p> + <p> + My father was a slave all the week, and could call himself his own only on + Sunday. The master naturalist, who used to spend the day at the house of + an old female relative, then gave him his liberty on condition that he + dined out, and at his own expense. But my father used secretly to take + with him a crust of bread, which he hid in his botanizing-box, and, + leaving Paris as soon as it was day, he would wander far into the valley + of Montmorency, the wood of Meudon, or among the windings of the Marne. + Excited by the fresh air, the penetrating perfume of the growing + vegetation, or the fragrance of the honeysuckles, he would walk on until + hunger or fatigue made itself felt. Then he would sit under a hedge, or by + the side of a stream, and would make a rustic feast, by turns on + watercresses, wood strawberries, and blackberries picked from the hedges; + he would gather a few plants, read a few pages of Florian, then in + greatest vogue, of Gessner, who was just translated, or of Jean Jacques, + of whom he possessed three old volumes. The day was thus passed + alternately in activity and rest, in pursuit and meditation, until the + declining sun warned him to take again the road to Paris, where he would + arrive, his feet torn and dusty, but his mind invigorated for a whole + week. + </p> + <p> + One day, as he was going toward the wood of Viroflay, he met, close to it, + a stranger who was occupied in botanizing and in sorting the plants he had + just gathered. He was an elderly man with an honest face; but his eyes, + which were rather deep-set under his eyebrows, had a somewhat uneasy and + timid expression. He was dressed in a brown cloth coat, a gray waistcoat, + black breeches, and worsted stockings, and held an ivory-headed cane under + his arm. His appearance was that of a small retired tradesman who was + living on his means, and rather below the golden mean of Horace. + </p> + <p> + My father, who had great respect for age, civilly raised his hat to him as + he passed. In doing so, a plant he held fell from his hand; the stranger + stooped to take it up, and recognized it. + </p> + <p> + “It is a Deutaria heptaphyllos,” said he; “I have not yet seen any of them + in these woods; did you find it near here, sir?” + </p> + <p> + My father replied that it was to be found in abundance on the top of the + hill, toward Sevres, as well as the great Laserpitium. + </p> + <p> + “That, too!” repeated the old man more briskly. “Ah! I shall go and look + for them; I have gathered them formerly on the hillside of Robaila.” + </p> + <p> + My father proposed to take him. The stranger accepted his proposal with + thanks, and hastened to collect together the plants he had gathered; but + all of a sudden he appeared seized with a scruple. He observed to his + companion that the road he was going was halfway up the hill, and led in + the direction of the castle of the Dames Royales at Bellevue; that by + going to the top he would consequently turn out of his road, and that it + was not right he should take this trouble for a stranger. + </p> + <p> + My father insisted upon it with his habitual good-nature; but, the more + eagerness he showed, the more obstinately the old man refused; it even + seemed to my father that his good intention at last excited his suspicion. + He therefore contented himself with pointing out the road to the stranger, + whom he saluted, and he soon lost sight of him. + </p> + <p> + Many hours passed by, and he thought no more of the meeting. He had + reached the copses of Chaville, where, stretched on the ground in a mossy + glade, he read once more the last volume of Emile. The delight of reading + it had so completely absorbed him that he had ceased to see or hear + anything around him. With his cheeks flushed and his eyes moist, he + repeated aloud a passage which had particularly affected him. + </p> + <p> + An exclamation uttered close by him awoke him from his ecstasy; he raised + his head, and perceived the tradesman-looking person he had met before on + the crossroad at Viroflay. + </p> + <p> + He was loaded with plants, the collection of which seemed to have put him + into high good-humor. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand thanks, sir,” said he to my father. “I have found all that you + told me of, and I am indebted to you for a charming walk.” + </p> + <p> + My father respectfully rose, and made a civil reply. The stranger had + grown quite familiar, and even asked if his young “brother botanist” did + not think of returning to Paris. My father replied in the affirmative, and + opened his tin box to put his book back in it. + </p> + <p> + The stranger asked him with a smile if he might without impertinence ask + the name of it. My father answered that it was Rousseau’s Emile. + </p> + <p> + The stranger immediately became grave. + </p> + <p> + They walked for some time side by side, my father expressing, with the + warmth of a heart still throbbing with emotion, all that this work had + made him feel; his companion remaining cold and silent. The former + extolled the glory of the great Genevese writer, whose genius had made him + a citizen of the world; he expatiated on this privilege of great thinkers, + who reign in spite of time and space, and gather together a people of + willing subjects out of all nations; but the stranger suddenly interrupted + him: + </p> + <p> + “And how do you know,” said he, mildly, “whether Jean Jacques would not + exchange the reputation which you seem to envy for the life of one of the + wood-cutters whose chimneys’ smoke we see? What has fame brought him + except persecution? The unknown friends whom his books may have made for + him content themselves with blessing him in their hearts, while the + declared enemies that they have drawn upon him pursue him with violence + and calumny! His pride has been flattered by success: how many times has + it been wounded by satire? And be assured that human pride is like the + Sybarite who was prevented from sleeping by a crease in a roseleaf. The + activity of a vigorous mind, by which the world profits, almost always + turns against him who possesses it. He expects more from it as he grows + older; the ideal he pursues continually disgusts him with the actual; he + is like a man who, with a too-refined sight, discerns spots and blemishes + in the most beautiful face. I will not speak of stronger temptations and + of deeper downfalls. Genius, you have said, is a kingdom; but what + virtuous man is not afraid of being a king? He who feels only his great + powers, is—with the weaknesses and passions of our nature—preparing + for great failures. Believe me, sir, the unhappy man who wrote this book + is no object of admiration or of envy; but, if you have a feeling heart, + pity him!” + </p> + <p> + My father, astonished at the excitement with which his companion + pronounced these last words, did not know what to answer. + </p> + <p> + Just then they reached the paved road which led from Meudon Castle to that + of Versailles; a carriage was passing. + </p> + <p> + The ladies who were in it perceived the old man, uttered an exclamation of + surprise, and leaning out of the window repeated: + </p> + <p> + “There is Jean Jacques—there is Rousseau!” + </p> + <p> + Then the carriage disappeared in the distance. + </p> + <p> + My father remained motionless, confounded, and amazed, his eyes wide open, + and his hands clasped. + </p> + <p> + Rousseau, who had shuddered on hearing his name spoken, turned toward him: + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said he, with the bitter misanthropy which his later + misfortunes had produced in him, “Jean Jacques cannot even hide himself: + he is an object of curiosity to some, of malignity to others, and to all + he is a public thing, at which they point the finger. It would signify + less if he had only to submit to the impertinence of the idle; but, as + soon as a man has had the misfortune to make himself a name, he becomes + public property. Every one rakes into his life, relates his most trivial + actions, and insults his feelings; he becomes like those walls, which + every passer-by may deface with some abusive writing. Perhaps you will say + that I have myself encouraged this curiosity by publishing my Confessions. + But the world forced me to it. They looked into my house through the + blinds, and they slandered me; I have opened the doors and windows, so + that they should at least know me such as I am. Adieu, sir. Whenever you + wish to know the worth of fame, remember that you have seen Rousseau.” + </p> + <p> + Nine o’clock.—Ah! now I understand my father’s story! It contains + the answer to one of the questions I asked myself a week ago. Yes, I now + feel that fame and power are gifts that are dearly bought; and that, when + they dazzle the soul, both are oftenest, as Madame de Stael says, but ‘un + deuil eclatant de bonheur! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Tis better to be lowly born, + And range with humble livers in content, + Than to be perk’d up in a glistering grief, + And wear a golden sorrow. + + [Henry VIII., Act II., Scene 3.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. MISANTHROPY AND REPENTANCE + </h2> + <h3> + August 3d, Nine O’clock P.M. + </h3> + <p> + There are days when everything appears gloomy to us; the world, like the + sky, is covered by a dark fog. Nothing seems in its place; we see only + misery, improvidence, and cruelty; the world seems without God, and given + up to all the evils of chance. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday I was in this unhappy humor. After a long walk in the faubourgs, + I returned home, sad and dispirited. + </p> + <p> + Everything I had seen seemed to accuse the civilization of which we are so + proud! I had wandered into a little by-street, with which I was not + acquainted, and I found myself suddenly in the middle of those dreadful + abodes where the poor are born, to languish and die. I looked at those + decaying walls, which time has covered with a foul leprosy; those windows, + from which dirty rags hang out to dry; those fetid gutters, which coil + along the fronts of the houses like venomous reptiles! I felt oppressed + with grief, and hastened on. + </p> + <p> + A little farther on I was stopped by the hearse of a hospital; a dead man, + nailed down in his deal coffin, was going to his last abode, without + funeral pomp or ceremony, and without followers. There was not here even + that last friend of the outcast—the dog, which a painter has + introduced as the sole attendant at the pauper’s burial! He whom they were + preparing to commit to the earth was going to the tomb, as he had lived, + alone; doubtless no one would be aware of his end. In this battle of + society, what signifies a soldier the less? + </p> + <p> + But what, then, is this human society, if one of its members can thus + disappear like a leaf carried away by the wind? + </p> + <p> + The hospital was near a barrack, at the entrance of which old men, women, + and children were quarrelling for the remains of the coarse bread which + the soldiers had given them in charity! Thus, beings like ourselves daily + wait in destitution on our compassion till we give them leave to live! + Whole troops of outcasts, in addition to the trials imposed on all God’s + children, have to endure the pangs of cold, hunger, and humiliation. + Unhappy human commonwealth! Where man is in a worse condition than the bee + in its hive, or the ant in its subterranean city! + </p> + <p> + Ah! what then avails our reason? What is the use of so many high + faculties, if we are neither the wiser nor the happier for them? Which of + us would not exchange his life of labor and trouble with that of the birds + of the air, to whom the whole world is a life of joy? + </p> + <p> + How well I understand the complaint of Mao, in the popular tales of the + ‘Foyer Breton’ who, when dying of hunger and thirst, says, as he looks at + the bullfinches rifling the fruit-trees: + </p> + <p> + “Alas! those birds are happier than Christians; they have no need of inns, + or butchers, or bakers, or gardeners. God’s heaven belongs to them, and + earth spreads a continual feast before them! The tiny flies are their + game, ripe grass their cornfields, and hips and haws their store of fruit. + They have the right of taking everywhere, without paying or asking leave: + thus comes it that the little birds are happy, and sing all the livelong + day!” + </p> + <p> + But the life of man in a natural state is like that of the birds; he + equally enjoys nature. “The earth spreads a continual feast before him.” + What, then, has he gained by that selfish and imperfect association which + forms a nation? Would it not be better for every one to turn again to the + fertile bosom of nature, and live there upon her bounty in peace and + liberty? + </p> + <p> + August 20th, four o’clock A.M.—The dawn casts a red glow on my + bed-curtains; the breeze brings in the fragrance of the gardens below. + Here I am again leaning on my elbows by the windows, inhaling the + freshness and gladness of this first wakening of the day. + </p> + <p> + My eye always passes over the roofs filled with flowers, warbling, and + sunlight, with the same pleasure; but to-day it stops at the end of a + buttress which separates our house from the next. + </p> + <p> + The storms have stripped the top of its plaster covering, and dust carried + by the wind has collected in the crevices, and, being fixed there by the + rain, has formed a sort of aerial terrace, where some green grass has + sprung up. Among it rises a stalk of wheat, which to-day is surmounted by + a sickly ear that droops its yellow head. + </p> + <p> + This poor stray crop on the roofs, the harvest of which will fall to the + neighboring sparrows, has carried my thoughts to the rich crops which are + now falling beneath the sickle; it has recalled to me the beautiful walks + I took as a child through my native province, when the threshing-floors at + the farmhouses resounded from every part with the sound of a flail, and + when the carts, loaded with golden sheaves, came in by all the roads. I + still remember the songs of the maidens, the cheerfulness of the old men, + the open-hearted merriment of the laborers. There was, at that time, + something in their looks both of pride and feeling. The latter came from + thankfulness to God, the former from the sight of the harvest, the reward + of their labor. They felt indistinctly the grandeur and the holiness of + their part in the general work of the world; they looked with pride upon + their mountains of corn-sheaves, and they seemed to say, Next to God, it + is we who feed the world! + </p> + <p> + What a wonderful order there is in all human labor! + </p> + <p> + While the husbandman furrows his land, and prepares for every one his + daily bread, the town artizan, far away, weaves the stuff in which he is + to be clothed; the miner seeks underground the iron for his plow; the + soldier defends him against the invader; the judge takes care that the law + protects his fields; the tax-comptroller adjusts his private interests + with those of the public; the merchant occupies himself in exchanging his + products with those of distant countries; the men of science and of art + add every day a few horses to this ideal team, which draws along the + material world, as steam impels the gigantic trains of our iron roads! + Thus all unite together, all help one another; the toil of each one + benefits himself and all the world; the work has been apportioned among + the different members of the whole of society by a tacit agreement. If, in + this apportionment, errors are committed, if certain individuals have not + been employed according to their capacities, those defects of detail + diminish in the sublime conception of the whole. The poorest man included + in this association has his place, his work, his reason for being there; + each is something in the whole. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing like this for man in the state of nature. As he depends + only upon himself, it is necessary that he be sufficient for everything. + All creation is his property; but he finds in it as many hindrances as + helps. He must surmount these obstacles with the single strength that God + has given him; he cannot reckon on any other aid than chance and + opportunity. No one reaps, manufactures, fights, or thinks for him; he is + nothing to any one. He is a unit multiplied by the cipher of his own + single powers; while the civilized man is a unit multiplied by the whole + of society. + </p> + <p> + But, notwithstanding this, the other day, disgusted by the sight of some + vices in detail, I cursed the latter, and almost envied the life of the + savage. + </p> + <p> + One of the infirmities of our nature is always to mistake feeling for + evidence, and to judge of the season by a cloud or a ray of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Was the misery, the sight of which made me regret a savage life, really + the effect of civilization? Must we accuse society of having created these + evils, or acknowledge, on the contrary, that it has alleviated them? Could + the women and children, who were receiving the coarse bread from the + soldier, hope in the desert for more help or pity? That dead man, whose + forsaken state I deplored, had he not found, by the cares of a hospital, a + coffin and the humble grave where he was about to rest? Alone, and far + from men, he would have died like the wild beast in his den, and would now + be serving as food for vultures! These benefits of human society are + shared, then, by the most destitute. Whoever eats the bread that another + has reaped and kneaded, is under an obligation to his brother, and cannot + say he owes him nothing in return. The poorest of us has received from + society much more than his own single strength would have permitted him to + wrest from nature. + </p> + <p> + But cannot society give us more? Who doubts it? Errors have been committed + in this distribution of tasks and workers. Time will diminish the number + of them; with new lights a better division will arise; the elements of + society go on toward perfection, like everything else. The difficulty is + to know how to adapt ourselves to the slow step of time, whose progress + can never be forced on without danger. + </p> + <p> + August 14th, six o’clock A.M.—My garret window rises upon the roof + like a massive watch-tower. The corners are covered by large sheets of + lead, which run into the tiles; the successive action of cold and heat has + made them rise, and so a crevice has been formed in an angle on the right + side. There a sparrow has built her nest. + </p> + <p> + I have followed the progress of this aerial habitation from the first day. + I have seen the bird successively bring the straw, moss, and wool designed + for the construction of her abode; and I have admired the persevering + skill she expended in this difficult work. At first, my new neighbor spent + her days in fluttering over the poplar in the garden, and in chirping + along the gutters; a fine lady’s life seemed the only one to suit her. + Then all of a sudden, the necessity of preparing a shelter for her brood + transformed our idler into a worker; she no longer gave herself either + rest or relaxation. I saw her always either flying, fetching, or carrying; + neither rain nor sun stopped her. A striking example of the power of + necessity! We are indebted to it not only for most of our talents, but for + many of our virtues! + </p> + <p> + Is it not necessity that has given the people of less favored climates + that constant activity which has placed them so quickly at the head of + nations? As they are deprived of most of the gifts of nature, they have + supplied them by their industry; necessity has sharpened their + understanding, endurance awakened their foresight. While elsewhere man, + warmed by an ever brilliant sun, and loaded with the bounties of the + earth, was remaining poor, ignorant, and naked, in the midst of gifts he + did not attempt to explore, here he was forced by necessity to wrest his + food from the ground, to build habitations to defend himself from the + intemperance of the weather, and to warm his body by clothing himself with + the wool of animals. Work makes him both more intelligent and more robust: + disciplined by it, he seems to mount higher on the ladder of creation, + while those more favored by nature remain on the step nearest to the + brutes. + </p> + <p> + I made these reflections while looking at the bird, whose instinct seemed + to have become more acute since she had been occupied in work. At last the + nest was finished; she set up her household there, and I followed her + through all the phases of her new existence. + </p> + <p> + When she had sat on the eggs, and the young ones were hatched, she fed + them with the most attentive care. The corner of my window had become a + stage of moral action, which fathers and mothers might come to take + lessons from. The little ones soon became large, and this morning I have + seen them take their first flight. One of them, weaker than the others, + was not able to clear the edge of the roof, and fell into the gutter. I + caught him with some difficulty, and placed him again on the tile in front + of his house, but the mother has not noticed him. Once freed from the + cares of a family, she has resumed her wandering life among the trees and + along the roofs. In vain I have kept away from my window, to take from her + every excuse for fear; in vain the feeble little bird has called to her + with plaintive cries; his bad mother has passed by, singing and fluttering + with a thousand airs and graces. Once only the father came near; he looked + at his offspring with contempt, and then disappeared, never to return! + </p> + <p> + I crumbled some bread before the little orphan, but he did not know how to + peck it with his bill. I tried to catch him, but he escaped into the + forsaken nest. What will become of him there, if his mother does not come + back! + </p> + <p> + August 15th, six o’clock.—This morning, on opening my window, I + found the little bird dying upon the tiles; his wounds showed me that he + had been driven from the nest by his unworthy mother. I tried in vain to + warm him again with my breath; I felt the last pulsations of life; his + eyes were already closed, and his wings hung down! I placed him on the + roof in a ray of sunshine, and I closed my window. The struggle of life + against death has always something gloomy in it: it is a warning to us. + </p> + <p> + Happily I hear some one in the passage; without doubt it is my old + neighbor; his conversation will distract my thoughts. + </p> + <p> + It was my portress. Excellent woman! She wished me to read a letter from + her son the sailor, and begged me to answer it for her. + </p> + <p> + I kept it, to copy it in my journal. Here it is: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “DEAR MOTHER: This is to tell you that I have been very well ever + since the last time, except that last week I was nearly drowned with + the boat, which would have been a great loss, as there is not a + better craft anywhere. + + “A gust of wind capsized us; and just as I came up above water, I + saw the captain sinking. I went after him, as was my duty, and, + after diving three times, I brought him to the surface, which + pleased him much; for when we were hoisted on board, and he had + recovered his senses, he threw his arms round my neck, as he would + have done to an officer. + + “I do not hide from you, dear mother, that this has delighted me. + But it isn’t all; it seems that fishing up the captain has reminded + them that I had a good character, and they have just told me that I + am promoted to be a sailor of the first class! Directly I knew it, + I cried out, ‘My mother shall have coffee twice a day!’ And really, + dear mother, there is nothing now to hinder you, as I shall now have + a larger allowance to send you. + + “I include by begging you to take care of yourself if you wish to do + me good; for nothing makes me feel so well as to think that you want + for nothing. + + “Your son, from the bottom of my heart, + + “JACQUES.” + </pre> + <p> + This is the answer that the portress dictated to me: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MY GOOD JACQUOT: It makes me very happy to see that your heart is + still as true as ever, and that you will never shame those who have + brought you up. I need not tell you to take care of your life, + because you know it is the same as my own, and that without you, + dear child, I should wish for nothing but the grave; but we are not + bound to live, while we are bound to do our duty. + + “Do not fear for my health, good Jacques; I was never better! I do + not grow old at all, for fear of making you unhappy. I want + nothing, and I live like a lady. I even had some money over this + year, and as my drawers shut very badly, I put it into the savings’ + bank, where I have opened an account in your name. So, when you + come back, you will find yourself with an income. I have also + furnished your chest with new linen, and I have knitted you three + new sea-jackets. + + “All your friends are well. Your cousin is just dead, leaving his + widow in difficulties. I gave her your thirty francs’ remittance + and said that you had sent it her; and the poor woman remembers you + day and night in her prayers. So, you see, I have put that money in + another sort of savings’ bank; but there it is our hearts that get + the interest. + + “Good-bye, dear Jacquot. Write to me often, and always remember the + good God, and your old mother, + + “PHROSINE MILLOT.” + </pre> + <p> + Good son, and worthy mother! how such examples bring us back to a love for + the human race! In a fit of fanciful misanthropy, we may envy the fate of + the savage, and prefer that of the bird to such as he; but impartial + observation soon does justice to such paradoxes. We find, on examination, + that in the mixed good and evil of human nature, the good so far abounds + that we are not in the habit of noticing it, while the evil strikes us + precisely on account of its being the exception. If nothing is perfect, + nothing is so bad as to be without its compensation or its remedy. What + spiritual riches are there in the midst of the evils of society! how much + does the moral world redeem the material! + </p> + <p> + That which will ever distinguish man from the rest of creation, is his + power of deliberate affection and of enduring self-sacrifice. The mother + who took care of her brood in the corner of my window devoted to them the + necessary time for accomplishing the laws which insure the preservation of + her kind; but she obeyed an instinct, and not a rational choice. When she + had accomplished the mission appointed her by Providence, she cast off the + duty as we get rid of a burden, and she returned again to her selfish + liberty. The other mother, on the contrary, will go on with her task as + long as God shall leave her here below: the life of her son will still + remain, so to speak, joined to her own; and when she disappears from the + earth, she will leave there that part of herself. + </p> + <p> + Thus, the affections make for our species an existence separate from all + the rest of creation. Thanks to them, we enjoy a sort of terrestrial + immortality; and if other beings succeed one another, man alone + perpetuates himself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE FAMILY OF MICHAEL AROUT + </h2> + <h3> + September 15th, Eight O’clock + </h3> + <p> + This morning, while I was arranging my books, Mother Genevieve came in, + and brought me the basket of fruit I buy of her every Sunday. For the + nearly twenty years that I have lived in this quarter, I have dealt in her + little fruit-shop. Perhaps I should be better served elsewhere, but Mother + Genevieve has but little custom; to leave her would do her harm, and cause + her unnecessary pain. It seems to me that the length of our acquaintance + has made me incur a sort of tacit obligation to her; my patronage has + become her property. + </p> + <p> + She has put the basket upon my table, and as I want her husband, who is a + joiner, to add some shelves to my bookcase, she has gone downstairs again + immediately to send him to me. + </p> + <p> + At first I did not notice either her looks or the sound of her voice: but, + now that I recall them, it seems to me that she was not as jovial as + usual. Can Mother Genevieve be in trouble about anything? + </p> + <p> + Poor woman! All her best years were subject to such bitter trials, that + she might think she had received her full share already. Were I to live a + hundred years, I should never forget the circumstances which made her + known to me, and which obtained for her my respect. + </p> + <p> + It was at the time of my first settling in the faubourg. I had noticed her + empty fruit-shop, which nobody came into, and, being attracted by its + forsaken appearance, I made my little purchases in it. I have always + instinctively preferred the poor shops; there is less choice in them, but + it seems to me that my purchase is a sign of sympathy with a brother in + poverty. These little dealings are almost always an anchor of hope to + those whose very existence is in peril—the only means by which some + orphan gains a livelihood. There the aim of the tradesman is not to enrich + himself, but to live! The purchase you make of him is more than an + exchange—it is a good action. + </p> + <p> + Mother Genevieve at that time was still young, but had already lost that + fresh bloom of youth which suffering causes to wither so soon among the + poor. Her husband, a clever joiner, gradually left off working to become, + according to the picturesque expression of the workshops, a worshipper of + Saint Monday. The wages of the week, which was always reduced to two or + three working days, were completely dedicated by him to the worship of + this god of the Barriers,—[The cheap wine shops are outside the + Barriers, to avoid the octroi, or municipal excise.]—and Genevieve + was obliged herself to provide for all the wants of the household. + </p> + <p> + One evening, when I went to make some trifling purchases of her, I heard a + sound of quarrelling in the back shop. There were the voices of several + women, among which I distinguished that of Genevieve, broken by sobs. On + looking farther in, I perceived the fruit-woman holding a child in her + arms, and kissing it, while a country nurse seemed to be claiming her + wages from her. The poor woman, who without doubt had exhausted every + explanation and every excuse, was crying in silence, and one of her + neighbors was trying in vain to appease the countrywoman. Excited by that + love of money which the evils of a hard peasant life but too well excuse, + and disappointed by the refusal of her expected wages, the nurse was + launching forth in recriminations, threats, and abuse. In spite of myself, + I listened to the quarrel, not daring to interfere, and not thinking of + going away, when Michael Arout appeared at the shop-door. + </p> + <p> + The joiner had just come from the Barriers, where he had passed part of + the day at a public-house. His blouse, without a belt, and untied at the + throat, showed none of the noble stains of work: in his hand he held his + cap, which he had just picked up out of the mud; his hair was in disorder, + his eye fixed, and the pallor of drunkenness in his face. He came reeling + in, looked wildly around him, and called Genevieve. + </p> + <p> + She heard his voice, gave a start, and rushed into the shop; but at the + sight of the miserable man, who was trying in vain to steady himself, she + pressed the child in her arms, and bent over it with tears. + </p> + <p> + The countrywoman and the neighbor had followed her. + </p> + <p> + “Come! come!” cried the former in a rage, “do you intend to pay me, after + all?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask the master for the money,” ironically answered the woman from the + next door, pointing to the joiner, who had just fallen against the + counter. + </p> + <p> + The countrywoman looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he is the father,” returned she. “Well, what idle beggars! not to + have a penny to pay honest people; and get tipsy with wine in that way.” + </p> + <p> + The drunkard raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “What! what!” stammered he; “who is it that talks of wine? I’ve had + nothing but brandy! But I am going back again to get some wine! Wife, give + me your money; there are some friends waiting for me at the ‘Pere la + Tuille’.” + </p> + <p> + Genevieve did not answer: he went round the counter, opened the till, and + began to rummage in it. + </p> + <p> + “You see where the money of the house goes!” observed the neighbor to the + countrywoman; “how can the poor unhappy woman pay you when he takes all?” + </p> + <p> + “Is that my fault?” replied the nurse, angrily. “They owe to me, and + somehow or other they must pay me!” + </p> + <p> + And letting loose her tongue, as these women out of the country do, she + began relating at length all the care she had taken of the child, and all + the expense it had been to her. In proportion as she recalled all she had + done, her words seemed to convince her more than ever of her rights, and + to increase her anger. The poor mother, who no doubt feared that her + violence would frighten the child, returned into the back shop, and put it + into its cradle. + </p> + <p> + Whether it is that the countrywoman saw in this act a determination to + escape her claims, or that she was blinded by passion, I cannot say; but + she rushed into the next room, where I heard the sounds of quarrelling, + with which the cries of the child were soon mingled. The joiner, who was + still rummaging in the till, was startled, and raised his head. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment Genevieve appeared at the door, holding in her arms the + baby that the countrywoman was trying to tear from her. She ran toward the + counter, and throwing herself behind her husband, cried: + </p> + <p> + “Michael, defend your son!” + </p> + <p> + The drunken man quickly stood up erect, like one who awakes with a start. + </p> + <p> + “My son!” stammered he; “what son?” + </p> + <p> + His looks fell upon the child; a vague ray of intelligence passed over his + features. + </p> + <p> + “Robert,” resumed he; “it is Robert!” + </p> + <p> + He tried to steady himself on his feet, that he might take the baby, but + he tottered. The nurse approached him in a rage. + </p> + <p> + “My money, or I shall take the child away!” cried she. “It is I who have + fed and brought it up: if you don’t pay me for what has made it live, it + ought to be the same to you as if it were dead. I shall not go until I + have my due, or the baby.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would you do with him?” murmured Genevieve, pressing Robert + against her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Take it to the Foundling!” replied the countrywoman, harshly; “the + hospital is a better mother than you are, for it pays for the food of its + little ones.” + </p> + <p> + At the word “Foundling,” Genevieve had exclaimed aloud in horror. With her + arms wound round her son, whose head she hid in her bosom, and her two + hands spread over him, she had retreated to the wall, and remained with + her back against it, like a lioness defending her young. The neighbor and + I contemplated this scene, without knowing how we could interfere. As for + Michael, he looked at us by turns, making a visible effort to comprehend + it all. When his eye rested upon Genevieve and the child, it lit up with a + gleam of pleasure; but when he turned toward us, he again became stupid + and hesitating. + </p> + <p> + At last, apparently making a prodigious effort, he cried out, “Wait!” + </p> + <p> + And going to a tub filled with water, he plunged his face into it several + times. + </p> + <p> + Every eye was turned upon him; the countrywoman herself seemed astonished. + At length he raised his dripping head. This ablution had partly dispelled + his drunkenness; he looked at us for a moment, then he turned to + Genevieve, and his face brightened up. + </p> + <p> + “Robert!” cried he, going up to the child, and taking him in his arms. + “Ah! give him me, wife; I must look at him.” + </p> + <p> + The mother seemed to give up his son to him with reluctance, and stayed + before him with her arms extended, as if she feared the child would have a + fall. The nurse began again in her turn to speak, and renewed her claims, + this time threatening to appeal to law. At first Michael listened to her + attentively, and when he comprehended her meaning, he gave the child back + to its mother. + </p> + <p> + “How much do we owe you?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + The countrywoman began to reckon up the different expenses, which amounted + to nearly thirty francs. The joiner felt to the bottom of his pockets, but + could find nothing. His forehead became contracted by frowns; low curses + began to escape him. All of a sudden he rummaged in his breast, drew forth + a large watch, and holding it up above his head: + </p> + <p> + “Here it is—here’s your money!” cried he with a joyful laugh; “a + watch, a good one! I always said it would keep for a drink on a dry day; + but it is not I who will drink it, but the young one. Ah! ah! ah! go and + sell it for me, neighbor, and if that is not enough, I have my earrings. + Eh! Genevieve, take them off for me; the earrings will square all! They + shall not say you have been disgraced on account of the child—no, + not even if I must pledge a bit of my flesh! My watch, my earrings, and my + ring—get rid of all of them for me at the goldsmith’s; pay the + woman, and let the little fool go to sleep. Give him me, Genevieve; I will + put him to bed.” + </p> + <p> + And, taking the baby from the arms of his mother, he carried him with a + firm step to his cradle. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to perceive the change which took place in Michael from this + day. He cut all his old drinking acquaintances. He went early every + morning to his work, and returned regularly in the evening to finish the + day with Genevieve and Robert. Very soon he would not leave them at all, + and he hired a place near the fruit-shop, and worked in it on his own + account. + </p> + <p> + They would soon have been able to live in comfort, had it not been for the + expenses which the child required. Everything was given up to his + education. He had gone through the regular school training, had studied + mathematics, drawing, and the carpenter’s trade, and had only begun to + work a few months ago. Till now, they had been exhausting every resource + which their laborious industry could provide to push him forward in his + business; and, happily, all these exertions had not proved useless: the + seed had brought forth fruit, and the days of harvest were close by. + </p> + <p> + While I was thus recalling these remembrances to my mind, Michael had come + in, and was occupied in fixing shelves where they were wanted. + </p> + <p> + During the time I was writing the notes of my journal, I was also + scrutinizing the joiner. + </p> + <p> + The excesses of his youth and the labor of his manhood have deeply marked + his face; his hair is thin and gray, his shoulders stoop, his legs are + shrunken and slightly bent. There seems a sort of weight in his whole + being. His very features have an expression of sorrow and despondency. He + answers my questions by monosyllables, and like a man who wishes to avoid + conversation. Whence comes this dejection, when one would think he had all + he could wish for? I should like to know! + </p> + <p> + Ten o’clock.—Michael is just gone downstairs to look for a tool he + has forgotten. I have at last succeeded in drawing from him the secret of + his and Genevieve’s sorrow. Their son Robert is the cause of it! + </p> + <p> + Not that he has turned out ill after all their care—not that he is + idle or dissipated; but both were in hopes he would never leave them any + more. The presence of the young man was to have renewed and made glad + their lives once more; his mother counted the days, his father prepared + everything to receive their dear associate in their toils; and at the + moment when they were thus about to be repaid for all their sacrifices, + Robert had suddenly informed them that he had just engaged himself to a + contractor at Versailles. + </p> + <p> + Every remonstrance and every prayer were useless; he brought forward the + necessity of initiating himself into all the details of an important + contract, the facilities he should have in his new position of improving + himself in his trade, and the hopes he had of turning his knowledge to + advantage. At, last, when his mother, having come to the end of her + arguments, began to cry, he hastily kissed her, and went away that he + might avoid any further remonstrances. + </p> + <p> + He had been absent a year, and there was nothing to give them hopes of his + return. His parents hardly saw him once a month, and then he only stayed a + few moments with them. + </p> + <p> + “I have been punished where I had hoped to be rewarded,” Michael said to + me just now. “I had wished for a saving and industrious son, and God has + given me an ambitious and avaricious one! I had always said to myself that + when once he was grown up we should have him always with us, to recall our + youth and to enliven our hearts. His mother was always thinking of getting + him married, and having children again to care for. You know women always + will busy themselves about others. As for me, I thought of him working + near my bench, and singing his new songs; for he has learnt music, and is + one of the best singers at the Orpheon. + </p> + <p> + “A dream, sir, truly! Directly the bird was fledged, he took to flight, + and remembers neither father nor mother. Yesterday, for instance, was the + day we expected him; he should have come to supper with us. No Robert + to-day, either! He has had some plan to finish, or some bargain to + arrange, and his old parents are put down last in the accounts, after the + customers and the joiner’s work. Ah! if I could have guessed how it would + have turned out! Fool! to have sacrificed my likings and my money, for + nearly twenty years, to the education of a thankless son! Was it for this + I took the trouble to cure myself of drinking, to break with my friends, + to become an example to the neighborhood? The jovial good fellow has made + a goose of himself. Oh! if I had to begin again! No, no! you see women and + children are our bane. They soften our hearts; they lead us a life of hope + and affection; we pass a quarter of our lives in fostering the growth of a + grain of corn which is to be everything to us in our old age, and when the + harvest-time comes—good-night, the ear is empty!” + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking, Michael’s voice became hoarse, his eyes fierce, and + his lips quivered. I wished to answer him, but I could only think of + commonplace consolations, and I remained silent. The joiner pretended he + needed a tool, and left me. + </p> + <p> + Poor father! Ah! I know those moments of temptation when virtue has failed + to reward us, and we regret having obeyed her! Who has not felt this + weakness in hours of trial, and who has not uttered, at least once, the + mournful exclamation of Brutus? + </p> + <p> + But if virtue is only a word, what is there then in life that is true and + real? No, I will not believe that goodness is in vain! It does not always + give the happiness we had hoped for, but it brings some other. In the + world everything is ruled by order, and has its proper and necessary + consequences, and virtue cannot be the sole exception to the general law. + If it had been prejudicial to those who practised it, experience would + have avenged them; but experience has, on the contrary, made it more + universal and more holy. We only accuse it of being a faithless debtor + because we demand an immediate payment, and one apparent to our senses. We + always consider life as a fairytale, in which every good action must be + rewarded by a visible wonder. We do not accept as payment a peaceful + conscience, self-content, or a good name among men—treasures that + are more precious than any other, but the value of which we do not feel + till after we have lost them! + </p> + <p> + Michael is come back, and has returned to his work. His son has not yet + arrived. + </p> + <p> + By telling me of his hopes and his grievous disappointments, he became + excited; he unceasingly went over again the same subject, always adding + something to his griefs. He had just wound up his confidential discourse + by speaking to me of a joiner’s business which he had hoped to buy, and + work to good account with Robert’s help. The present owner had made a + fortune by it, and, after thirty years of business, he was thinking of + retiring to one of the ornamental cottages in the outskirts of the city, a + usual retreat for the frugal and successful workingman. Michael had not + indeed the two thousand francs which must be paid down; but perhaps he + could have persuaded Master Benoit to wait. Robert’s presence would have + been a security for him, for the young man could not fail to insure the + prosperity of a workshop; besides science and skill, he had the power of + invention and bringing to perfection. His father had discovered among his + drawings a new plan for a staircase, which had occupied his thoughts for a + long time; and he even suspected him of having engaged himself to the + Versailles contractor for the very purpose of executing it. The youth was + tormented by this spirit of invention, which took possession of all his + thoughts, and, while devoting his mind to study, he had no time to listen + to his feelings. + </p> + <p> + Michael told me all this with a mixed feeling of pride and vexation. I saw + he was proud of the son he was abusing, and that his very pride made him + more sensitive to that son’s neglect. + </p> + <p> + Six o’clock P.M.—I have just finished a happy day. How many events + have happened within a few hours, and what a change for Genevieve and + Michael! + </p> + <p> + He had just finished fixing the shelves, and telling me of his son, while + I laid the cloth for my breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly we heard hurried steps in the passage, the door opened, and + Genevieve entered with Robert. + </p> + <p> + The joiner gave a start of joyful surprise, but he repressed it + immediately, as if he wished to keep up the appearance of displeasure. + </p> + <p> + The young man did not appear to notice it, but threw himself into his arms + in an open-hearted manner, which surprised me. Genevieve, whose face shone + with happiness, seemed to wish to speak, and to restrain herself with + difficulty. + </p> + <p> + I told Robert I was glad to see him, and he answered me with ease and + civility. + </p> + <p> + “I expected you yesterday,” said Michael Arout, rather dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, father,” replied the young workman, “but I had business at + St. Germain’s. I was not able to come back till it was very late, and then + the master kept me.” + </p> + <p> + The joiner looked at his son sidewise, and then took up his hammer again. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” muttered he, in a grumbling tone; “when we are with other + people we must do as they wish; but there are some who would like better + to eat brown bread with their own knife than partridges with the silver + fork of a master.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am one of those, father,” replied Robert, merrily, “but, as the + proverb says, ‘you must shell the peas before you can eat them.’ It was + necessary that I should first work in a great workshop—” + </p> + <p> + “To go on with your plan of the staircase,” interrupted Michael, + ironically. + </p> + <p> + “You must now say Monsieur Raymond’s plan, father,” replied Robert, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have sold it to him.” + </p> + <p> + The joiner, who was planing a board, turned round quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Sold it!” cried he, with sparkling eyes. + </p> + <p> + “For the reason that I was not rich enough to give it him.” + </p> + <p> + Michael threw down the board and tool. + </p> + <p> + “There he is again!” resumed he, angrily; “his good genius puts an idea + into his head which would have made him known, and he goes and sells it to + a rich man, who will take the honor of it himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what harm is there done?” asked Genevieve. + </p> + <p> + “What harm!” cried the joiner, in a passion. “You understand nothing about + it—you are a woman; but he—he knows well that a true workman + never gives up his own inventions for money, no more than a soldier would + give up his cross. That is his glory; he is bound to keep it for the honor + it does him! Ah, thunder! if I had ever made a discovery, rather than put + it up at auction I would have sold one of my eyes! Don’t you see that a + new invention is like a child to a workman? He takes care of it, he brings + it up, he makes a way for it in the world, and it is only a poor creature + who sells it.” + </p> + <p> + Robert colored a little. + </p> + <p> + “You will think differently, father,” said he, “when you know why I sold + my plan.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you will thank him for it,” added Genevieve, who could no longer + keep silence. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” replied Michael. + </p> + <p> + “But, wretched man!” cried she, “he sold it only for our sakes!” + </p> + <p> + The joiner looked at his wife and son with astonishment. It was necessary + to come to an explanation. The latter related how he had entered into a + negotiation with Master Benoit, who had positively refused to sell his + business unless one half of the two thousand francs were first paid down. + It was in the hopes of obtaining this sum that he had gone to work with + the contractor at Versailles; he had had an opportunity of trying his + invention, and of finding a purchaser. Thanks to the money he received for + it, he had just concluded the bargain with Benoit, and had brought his + father the key of the new work-yard. + </p> + <p> + This explanation was given by the young workman with so much modesty and + simplicity that I was quite affected by it. Genevieve cried; Michael + pressed his son to his heart, and in a long embrace he seemed to ask his + pardon for having unjustly accused him. + </p> + <p> + All was now explained with honor to Robert. The conduct which his parents + had ascribed to indifference really sprang from affection; he had neither + obeyed the voice of ambition nor of avarice, nor even the nobler + inspiration of inventive genius: his whole motive and single aim had been + the happiness of Genevieve and Michael. The day for proving his gratitude + had come, and he had returned them sacrifice for sacrifice! + </p> + <p> + After the explanations and exclamations of joy were over, all three were + about to leave me; but, the cloth being laid, I added three more places, + and kept them to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + The meal was prolonged: the fare was only tolerable; but the over-flowings + of affection made it delicious. Never had I better understood the + unspeakable charm of family love. What calm enjoyment in that happiness + which is always shared with others; in that community of interests which + unites such various feelings; in that association of existences which + forms one single being of so many! What is man without those home + affections, which, like so many roots, fix him firmly in the earth, and + permit him to imbibe all the juices of life? Energy, happiness—do + not all these come from them? Without family life where would man learn to + love, to associate, to deny himself? A community in little, is it not this + which teaches us how to live in the great one? Such is the holiness of + home, that, to express our relation with God, we have been obliged to + borrow the words invented for our family life. Men have named themselves + the sons of a heavenly Father! + </p> + <p> + Ah! let us carefully preserve these chains of domestic union. Do not let + us unbind the human sheaf, and scatter its ears to all the caprices of + chance and of the winds; but let us rather enlarge this holy law; let us + carry the principles and the habits of home beyond set bounds; and, if it + may be, let us realize the prayer of the Apostle of the Gentiles when he + exclaimed to the newborn children of Christ: “Be ye like-minded, having + the same love, being of one accord, of one mind.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 3. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. OUR COUNTRY + </h2> + <p> + October 12th, Seven O’clock A.M. + </p> + <p> + The nights are already become cold and long; the sun, shining through my + curtains, no more wakens me long before the hour for work; and even when + my eyes are open, the pleasant warmth of the bed keeps me fast under my + counterpane. Every morning there begins a long argument between my + activity and my indolence; and, snugly wrapped up to the eyes, I wait like + the Gascon, until they have succeeded in coming to an agreement. + </p> + <p> + This morning, however, a light, which shone from my door upon my pillow, + awoke me earlier than usual. In vain I turned on my side; the persevering + light, like a victorious enemy, pursued me into every position. At last, + quite out of patience, I sat up and hurled my nightcap to the foot of the + bed! + </p> + <p> + (I will observe, by way of parenthesis, that the various evolutions of + this pacific headgear seem to have been, from the remotest time, symbols + of the vehement emotions of the mind; for our language has borrowed its + most common images from them.) + </p> + <p> + But be this as it may, I got up in a very bad humor, grumbling at my new + neighbor, who took it into his head to be wakeful when I wished to sleep. + We are all made thus; we do not understand that others may live on their + own account. Each one of us is like the earth, according to the old system + of Ptolemy, and thinks he can have the whole universe revolve around + himself. On this point, to make use of the metaphor alluded to: ‘Tous les + hommes ont la tete dans le meme bonnet’. + </p> + <p> + I had for the time being, as I have already said, thrown mine to the other + end of my bed; and I slowly disengaged my legs from the warm bedclothes, + while making a host of evil reflections upon the inconvenience of having + neighbors. + </p> + <p> + For more than a month I had not had to complain of those whom chance had + given me; most of them only came in to sleep, and went away again on + rising. I was almost always alone on this top story—alone with the + clouds and the sparrows! + </p> + <p> + But at Paris nothing lasts; the current of life carries us along, like the + seaweed torn from the rock; the houses are vessels which take mere + passengers. How many different faces have I already seen pass along the + landing-place belonging to our attics! How many companions of a few days + have disappeared forever! Some are lost in that medley of the living which + whirls continually under the scourge of necessity, and others in that + resting-place of the dead, who sleep under the hand of God! + </p> + <p> + Peter the bookbinder is one of these last. Wrapped up in selfishness, he + lived alone and friendless, and he died as he had lived. His loss was + neither mourned by any one, nor disarranged anything in the world; there + was merely a ditch filled up in the graveyard, and an attic emptied in our + house. + </p> + <p> + It is the same which my new neighbor has inhabited for the last few days. + </p> + <p> + To say truly (now that I am quite awake, and my ill humor is gone with my + nightcap)—to say truly, this new neighbor, although rising earlier + than suits my idleness, is not the less a very good man: he carries his + misfortunes, as few know how to carry their good fortunes, with + cheerfulness and moderation. + </p> + <p> + But fate has cruelly tried him. Father Chaufour is but the wreck of a man. + In the place of one of his arms hangs an empty sleeve; his left leg is + made by the turner, and he drags the right along with difficulty; but + above these ruins rises a calm and happy face. While looking upon his + countenance, radiant with a serene energy, while listening to his voice, + the tone of which has, so to speak, the accent of goodness, we see that + the soul has remained entire in the half-destroyed covering. The fortress + is a little damaged, as Father Chaufour says, but the garrison is quite + hearty. + </p> + <p> + Decidedly, the more I think of this excellent man, the more I reproach + myself for the sort of malediction I bestowed on him when I awoke. + </p> + <p> + We are generally too indulgent in our secret wrongs toward our neighbor. + All ill-will which does not pass the region of thought seems innocent to + us, and, with our clumsy justice, we excuse without examination the sin + which does not betray itself by action! + </p> + <p> + But are we then bound to others only by the enforcement of laws? Besides + these external relations, is there not a real relation of feeling between + men? Do we not owe to all those who live under the same heaven as + ourselves the aid not only of our acts but of our purposes? Ought not + every human life to be to us like a vessel that we accompany with our + prayers for a happy voyage? It is not enough that men do not harm one + another; they must also help and love one another! The papal benediction, + ‘Urbi et orbi’! should be the constant cry from all hearts. To condemn him + who does not deserve it, even in the mind, even by a passing thought, is + to break the great law, that which has established the union of souls here + below, and to which Christ has given the sweet name of charity. + </p> + <p> + These thoughts came into my mind as I finished dressing, and I said to + myself that Father Chaufour had a right to reparation from me. To make + amends for the feeling of ill-will I had against him just now, I owed him + some explicit proof of sympathy. I heard him humming a tune in his room; + he was at work, and I determined that I would make the first neighborly + call. + </p> + <p> + Eight o’clock P.M.—I found Father Chaufour at a table lighted by a + little smoky lamp, without a fire, although it is already cold, and making + large pasteboard boxes; he was humming a popular song in a low tone. I had + hardly entered the room when he uttered an exclamation of surprise and + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! is it you, neighbor? Come in, then! I did not think you got up so + early, so I put a damper on my music; I was afraid of waking you.” + </p> + <p> + Excellent man! while I was sending him to the devil he was putting himself + out of his way for me! + </p> + <p> + This thought touched me, and I paid my compliments on his having become my + neighbor with a warmth which opened his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Faith! you seem to me to have the look of a good Christian,” said he in a + voice of soldierlike cordiality, and shaking me by the hand. “I do not + like those people who look on a landing-place as a frontier line, and + treat their neighbors as if they were Cossacks. When men snuff the same + air, and speak the same lingo, they are not meant to turn their backs to + each other. Sit down there, neighbor; I don’t mean to order you; only take + care of the stool; it has but three legs, and we must put good-will in + place of the fourth.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that that is a treasure which there is no want of here,” I + observed. + </p> + <p> + “Good-will!” repeated Chaufour; “that is all my mother left me, and I take + it no son has received a better inheritance. Therefore they used to call + me Monsieur Content in the batteries.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a soldier, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I served in the Third Artillery under the Republic, and afterward in the + Guard, through all the commotions. I was at Jemappes and at Waterloo; so I + was at the christening and at the burial of our glory, as one may say!” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “And how old were you then, at Jemappes?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere about fifteen,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “How came you to think of being a soldier so early?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not really think about it. I then worked at toy-making, and never + dreamed that France would ask me for anything else than to make her + draught-boards, shuttlecocks, and cups and balls. But I had an old uncle + at Vincennes whom I went to see from time to time—a Fontenoy veteran + in the same rank of life as myself, but with ability enough to have risen + to that of a marshal. Unluckily, in those days there was no way for common + people to get on. My uncle, whose services would have got him made a + prince under the other, had then retired with the mere rank of + sub-lieutenant. But you should have seen him in his uniform, his cross of + St. Louis, his wooden leg, his white moustaches, and his noble + countenance. You would have said he was a portrait of one of those old + heroes in powdered hair which are at Versailles! + </p> + <p> + “Every time I visited him, he said something which remained fixed in my + memory. But one day I found him quite grave. + </p> + <p> + “‘Jerome,’ said he, ‘do you know what is going on on the frontier?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, lieutenant,’ replied I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well,’ resumed he, ‘our country is in danger!’ + </p> + <p> + “I did not well understand him, and yet it seemed something to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘Perhaps you have never thought what your country means,’ continued he, + placing his hand on my shoulder; `it is all that surrounds you, all that + has brought you up and fed you, all that you have loved! This ground that + you see, these houses, these trees, those girls who go along there + laughing—this is your country! The laws which protect you, the bread + which pays for your work, the words you interchange with others, the joy + and grief which come to you from the men and things among which you live—this + is your country! The little room where you used to see your mother, the + remembrances she has left you, the earth where she rests—this is + your country! You see it, you breathe it, everywhere! Think to yourself, + my son, of your rights and your duties, your affections and your wants, + your past and your present blessings; write them all under a single name—and + that name will be your country!’ + </p> + <p> + “I was trembling with emotion, and great tears were in my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah! I understand,’ cried I; ‘it is our home in large; it is that part of + the world where God has placed our body and our soul.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You are right, Jerome,’ continued the old soldier; ‘so you comprehend + also what we owe it.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Truly,’ resumed I, ‘we owe it all that we are; it is a question of + love.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And of honesty, my son,’ concluded he. ‘The member of a family who does + not contribute his share of work and of happiness fails in his duty, and + is a bad kinsman; the member of a partnership who does not enrich it with + all his might, with all his courage, and with all his heart, defrauds it + of what belongs to it, and is a dishonest man. It is the same with him who + enjoys the advantages of having a country, and does not accept the burdens + of it; he forfeits his honor, and is a bad citizen!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And what must one do, lieutenant, to be a good citizen?’ asked I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Do for your country what you would do for your father and mother,’ said + he. + </p> + <p> + “I did not answer at the moment; my heart was swelling, and the blood + boiling in my veins; but on returning along the road, my uncle’s words + were, so to speak, written up before my eyes. I repeated, ‘Do for your + country what you would do for your father and mother.’ And my country is + in danger; an enemy attacks it, while I—I turn cups and balls! + </p> + <p> + “This thought tormented me so much all night that the next day I returned + to Vincennes to announce to the lieutenant that I had just enlisted, and + was going off to the frontier. The brave man pressed upon me his cross of + St. Louis, and I went away as proud as an ambassador. + </p> + <p> + “That is how, neighbor, I became a volunteer under the Republic before I + had cut my wisdom teeth.” + </p> + <p> + All this was told quietly, and in the cheerful spirit of him who looks + upon an accomplished duty neither as a merit nor a grievance. + </p> + <p> + While he spoke, Father Chaufour grew animated, not on account of himself, + but of the general subject. Evidently that which occupied him in the drama + of life was not his own part, but the drama itself. + </p> + <p> + This sort of disinterestedness touched me. I prolonged my visit, and + showed myself as frank as possible, in order to win his confidence in + return. In an hour’s time he knew my position and my habits; I was on the + footing of an old acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + I even confessed the ill-humor the light of his lamp put me into a short + time before. He took what I said with the touching cheerfulness which + comes from a heart in the right place, and which looks upon everything on + the good side. He neither spoke to me of the necessity which obliged him + to work while I could sleep, nor of the deprivations of the old soldier + compared to the luxury of the young clerk; he only struck his forehead, + accused himself of thoughtlessness, and promised to put list round his + door! + </p> + <p> + O great and beautiful soul! with whom nothing turns to bitterness, and who + art peremptory only in duty and benevolence! + </p> + <p> + October 15th.—This morning I was looking at a little engraving I had + framed myself, and hung over my writing-table; it is a design of + Gavarni’s; in which, in a grave mood, he has represented a veteran and a + conscript. + </p> + <p> + By often contemplating these two figures, so different in expression, and + so true to life, both have become living in my eyes; I have seen them + move, I have heard them speak; the picture has become a real scene, at + which I am present as spectator. + </p> + <p> + The veteran advances slowly, his hand leaning on the shoulder of the young + soldier. His eyes, closed for ever, no longer perceive the sun shining + through the flowering chestnut-trees. In the place of his right arm hangs + an empty sleeve, and he walks with a wooden leg, the sound of which on the + pavement makes those who pass turn to look. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of this ancient wreck from our patriotic wars, the greater + number shake their heads in pity, and I seem to hear a sigh or an + imprecation. + </p> + <p> + “See the worth of glory!” says a portly merchant, turning away his eyes in + horror. + </p> + <p> + “What a deplorable use of human life!” rejoins a young man who carries a + volume of philosophy under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “The trooper would better not have left his plow,” adds a countryman, with + a cunning air. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old man!” murmurs a woman, almost crying. + </p> + <p> + The veteran has heard, and he knits his brow; for it seems to him that his + guide has grown thoughtful. The latter, attracted by what he hears around + him, hardly answers the old man’s questions, and his eyes, vaguely lost in + space, seem to be seeking there for the solution of some problem. + </p> + <p> + I seem to see a twitching in the gray moustaches of the veteran; he stops + abruptly, and, holding back his guide with his remaining arm: + </p> + <p> + “They all pity me,” says he, “because they do not understand it; but if I + were to answer them—” + </p> + <p> + “What would you say to them, father?” asks the young man, with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “I should say first to the woman who weeps when she looks at me, to keep + her tears for other misfortunes; for each of my wounds calls to mind some + struggle for my colors. There is room for doubting how some men have done + their duty; with me it is visible. I carry the account of my services, + written with the enemy’s steel and lead, on myself; to pity me for having + done my duty is to suppose I would better have been false to it.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would you say to the countryman, father?” + </p> + <p> + “I should tell him that, to drive the plow in peace, we must first secure + the country itself; and that, as long as there are foreigners ready to eat + our harvest, there must be arms to defend it.” + </p> + <p> + “But the young student, too, shook his head when he lamented such a use of + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Because he does not know what self-sacrifice and suffering can teach. The + books that he studies we have put in practice, though we never read them: + the principles he applauds we have defended with powder and bayonet.” + </p> + <p> + “And at the price of your limbs and your blood. The merchant said, when he + saw your maimed body, ‘See the worth of glory!”’ + </p> + <p> + “Do not believe him, my son: the true glory is the bread of the soul; it + is this which nourishes self-sacrifice, patience, and courage. The Master + of all has bestowed it as a tie the more between men. When we desire to be + distinguished by our brethren, do we not thus prove our esteem and our + sympathy for them? The longing for admiration is but one side of love. No, + no; the true glory can never be too dearly paid for! That which we should + deplore, child, is not the infirmities which prove a generous + self-sacrifice, but those which our vices or our imprudence have called + forth. Ah! if I could speak aloud to those who, when passing, cast looks + of pity upon me, I should say to the young man whose excesses have dimmed + his sight before he is old, ‘What have you done with your eyes?’ To the + slothful man, who with difficulty drags along his enervated mass of flesh, + ‘What have you done with your feet?’ To the old man, who is punished for + his intemperance by the gout, ‘What have you done with your hands?’ To + all, ‘What have you done with the days God granted you, with the faculties + you should have employed for the good of your brethren?’ If you cannot + answer, bestow no more of your pity upon the old soldier maimed in his + country’s cause; for he—he at least—can show his scars without + shame.” + </p> + <p> + October 16th.—The little engraving has made me comprehend better the + merits of Father Chaufour, and I therefore esteem him all the more. + </p> + <p> + He has just now left my attic. There no longer passes a single day without + his coming to work by my fire, or my going to sit and talk by his board. + </p> + <p> + The old artilleryman has seen much, and likes to tell of it. For twenty + years he was an armed traveller throughout Europe, and he fought without + hatred, for he was possessed by a single thought—the honor of the + national flag! It might have been his superstition, if you will; but it + was, at the same time, his safeguard. + </p> + <p> + The word FRANCE, which was then resounding so gloriously through the + world, served as a talisman to him against all sorts of temptation. To + have to support a great name may seem a burden to vulgar minds, but it is + an encouragement to vigorous ones. + </p> + <p> + “I, too, have had many moments,” said he to me the other day, “when I have + been tempted to make friends with the devil. War is not precisely the + school for rural virtues. By dint of burning, destroying, and killing, you + grow a little tough as regards your feelings; ‘and, when the bayonet has + made you king, the notions of an autocrat come into your head a little + strongly. But at these moments I called to mind that country which the + lieutenant spoke of to me, and I whispered to myself the well-known + phrase, ‘Toujours Francais! It has been laughed at since. People who would + make a joke of the death of their mother have turned it into ridicule, as + if the name of our country was not also a noble and a binding thing. For + my part, I shall never forget from how many follies the title of Frenchman + has kept me. When, overcome with fatigue, I have found myself in the rear + of the colors, and when the musketry was rattling in the front ranks, many + a time I heard a voice, which whispered in my ear, ‘Leave the others to + fight, and for today take care of your own hide!’ But then, that word + Francais! murmured within me, and I pressed forward to help my comrades. + At other times, when, irritated by hunger, cold, and wounds, I have + arrived at the hovel of some Meinherr, I have been seized by an itching to + break the master’s back, and to burn his hut; but I whispered to myself, + Francais! and this name would not rhyme with either incendiary or + murderer. I have, in this way, passed through kingdoms from east to west, + and from north to south, always determined not to bring disgrace upon my + country’s flag. The lieutenant, you see, had taught me a magic word—My + country! Not only must we defend it, but we must also make it great and + loved.” + </p> + <p> + October 17th.—To-day I have paid my neighbor a long visit. A chance + expression led the way to his telling me more of himself than he had yet + done. + </p> + <p> + I asked him whether both his limbs had been lost in the same battle. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” replied he; “the cannon only took my leg; it was the Clamart + quarries that my arm went to feed.” + </p> + <p> + And when I asked him for the particulars— + </p> + <p> + “That’s as easy as to say good-morning,” continued he. “After the great + break-up at Waterloo, I stayed three months in the camp hospital to give + my wooden leg time to grow. As soon as I was able to hobble a little, I + took leave of headquarters, and took the road to Paris, where I hoped to + find some relative or friend; but no—all were gone, or underground. + I should have found myself less strange at Vienna, Madrid, or Berlin. And + although I had a leg the less to provide for, I was none the better off; + my appetite had come back, and my last sous were taking flight. + </p> + <p> + “I had indeed met my old colonel, who recollected that I had helped him + out of the skirmish at Montereau by giving him my horse, and he had + offered me bed and board at his house. I knew that the year before he had + married a castle and no few farms, so that I might become permanent + coat-brusher to a millionaire, which was not without its temptations. It + remained to see if I had not anything better to do. One evening I set + myself to reflect upon it. + </p> + <p> + “‘Let us see, Chaufour,’ said I to myself; ‘the question is to act like a + man. The colonel’s place suits you, but cannot you do anything better? + Your body is still in good condition, and your arms strong; do you not owe + all your strength to your country, as your Vincennes uncle said? Why not + leave some old soldier, more cut up than you are, to get his hospital at + the colonel’s? Come, trooper, you are still fit for another stout charge + or two! You must not lay up before your time.’ + </p> + <p> + “Whereupon I went to thank the colonel, and to offer my services to an old + artilleryman, who had gone back to his home at Clamart, and who had taken + up the quarryman’s pick again. + </p> + <p> + “For the first few months I played the conscript’s part—that is to + say, there was more stir than work; but with a good will one gets the + better of stones, as of everything else. I did not become, so to speak, + the leader of a column, but I brought up the rank among the good workmen, + and I ate my bread with a good appetite, seeing I had earned it with a + good will. For even underground, you see, I still kept my pride. The + thought that I was working to do my part in changing rocks into houses + pleased my heart. I said to myself, ‘Courage, Chaufour, my old boy; you + are helping to beautify your country.’ And that kept up my spirit. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, some of my companions were rather too sensible to the + charms of the brandy-bottle; so much so, that one day one of them, who + could hardly distinguish his right hand from his left, thought proper to + strike a light close to a charged mine. The mine exploded suddenly, and + sent a shower of stone grape among us, which killed three men, and carried + away the arm of which I have now only the sleeve.” + </p> + <p> + “So you were again without means of living?” said I to the old soldier. + </p> + <p> + “That is to say, I had to change them,” replied he, quietly. “The + difficulty was to find one which would do with five fingers instead of + ten; I found it, however.” + </p> + <p> + “How was that?” + </p> + <p> + “Among the Paris street-sweepers.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you have been one—” + </p> + <p> + “Of the pioneers of the health force for a while, neighbor, and that was + not my worst time either. The corps of sweepers is not so low as it is + dirty, I can tell you! There are old actresses in it who could never learn + to save their money, and ruined merchants from the exchange; we even had a + professor of classics, who for a little drink would recite Latin to you, + or Greek tragedies, as you chose. They could not have competed for the + Monthyon prize; but we excused faults on account of poverty, and cheered + our poverty by our good-humor and jokes. I was as ragged and as cheerful + as the rest, while trying to be something better. Even in the mire of the + gutter I preserved my faith that nothing is dishonorable which is useful + to our country. + </p> + <p> + “‘Chaufour,’ said I to myself with a smile, ‘after the sword, the hammer; + after the hammer, the broom; you are going downstairs, my old boy, but you + are still serving your country.’” + </p> + <p> + “‘However, you ended by leaving your new profession?’ said I.” + </p> + <p> + “A reform was required, neighbor. The street-sweepers seldom have their + feet dry, and the damp at last made the wounds in my good leg open again. + I could no longer follow the regiment, and it was necessary to lay down my + arms. It is now two months since I left off working in the sanitary + department of Paris. + </p> + <p> + “At the first moment I was daunted. Of my four limbs, I had now only my + right hand, and even that had lost its strength; so it was necessary to + find some gentlemanly occupation for it. After trying a little of + everything, I fell upon card-box making, and here I am at cases for the + lace and buttons of the national guard; it is work of little profit, but + it is within the capacity of all. By getting up at four and working till + eight, I earn sixty-five centimes; my lodging and bowl of soup take fifty + of them, and there are three sous over for luxuries. So I am richer than + France herself, for I have no deficit in my budget; and I continue to + serve her, as I save her lace and buttons.” + </p> + <p> + At these words Father Chaufour looked at me with a smile, and with his + great scissors began cutting the green paper again for his cardboard + cases. My heart was touched, and I remained lost in thought. + </p> + <p> + Here is still another member of that sacred phalanx who, in the battle of + life, always march in front for the example and the salvation of the + world! Each of these brave soldiers has his war-cry; for this one it is + “Country,” for that “Home,” for a third “Mankind;” but they all follow the + same standard—that of duty; for all the same divine law reigns—that + of self-sacrifice. To love something more than one’s self—that is + the secret of all that is great; to know how to live for others—that + is the aim of all noble souls. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. MORAL USE OF INVENTORIES + </h2> + <h3> + November 13th, Nine O’clock P.M. + </h3> + <p> + I had well stopped up the chinks of my window; my little carpet was nailed + down in its place; my lamp, provided with its shade, cast a subdued light + around, and my stove made a low, murmuring sound, as if some live creature + was sharing my hearth with me. + </p> + <p> + All was silent around me. But, out of doors the snow and rain swept the + roofs, and with a low, rushing sound ran along the gurgling gutters; + sometimes a gust of wind forced itself beneath the tiles, which rattled + together like castanets, and afterward it was lost in the empty corridor. + Then a slight and pleasurable shiver thrilled through my veins: I drew the + flaps of my old wadded dressing-gown around me, I pulled my threadbare + velvet cap over my eyes, and, letting myself sink deeper into my + easy-chair, while my feet basked in the heat and light which shone through + the door of the stove, I gave myself up to a sensation of enjoyment, made + more lively by the consciousness of the storm which raged without. My + eyes, swimming in a sort of mist, wandered over all the details of my + peaceful abode; they passed from my prints to my bookcase, resting upon + the little chintz sofa, the white curtains of the iron bedstead, and the + portfolio of loose papers—those archives of the attics; and then, + returning to the book I held in my hand, they attempted to seize once more + the thread of the reading which had been thus interrupted. + </p> + <p> + In fact, this book, the subject of which had at first interested me, had + become painful to me. I had come to the conclusion that the pictures of + the writer were too sombre. His description of the miseries of the world + appeared exaggerated to me; I could not believe in such excess of poverty + and of suffering; neither God nor man could show themselves so harsh + toward the sons of Adam. The author had yielded to an artistic temptation: + he was making a show of the sufferings of humanity, as Nero burned Rome + for the sake of the picturesque. + </p> + <p> + Taken altogether, this poor human house, so often repaired, so much + criticised, is still a pretty good abode; we may find enough in it to + satisfy our wants, if we know how to set bounds to them; the happiness of + the wise man costs but little, and asks but little space. + </p> + <p> + These consoling reflections became more and more confused. At last my book + fell on the ground without my having the resolution to stoop and take it + up again; and insensibly overcome by the luxury of the silence, the + subdued light, and the warmth, I fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + I remained for some time lost in the sort of insensibility belonging to a + first sleep; at last some vague and broken sensations came over me. It + seemed to me that the day grew darker, that the air became colder. I half + perceived bushes covered with the scarlet berries which foretell the + coming of winter. I walked on a dreary road, bordered here and there with + juniper-trees white with frost. Then the scene suddenly changed. I was in + the diligence; the cold wind shook the doors and windows; the trees, + loaded with snow, passed by like ghosts; in vain I thrust my benumbed feet + into the crushed straw. At last the carriage stopped, and, by one of those + stage effects so common in sleep, I found myself alone in a barn, without + a fireplace, and open to the winds on all sides. I saw again my mother’s + gentle face, known only to me in my early childhood, the noble and stern + countenance of my father, the little fair head of my sister, who was taken + from us at ten years old; all my dead family lived again around me; they + were there, exposed to the bitings of the cold and to the pangs of hunger. + My mother prayed by the resigned old man, and my sister, rolled up on some + rags of which they had made her a bed, wept in silence, and held her naked + feet in her little blue hands. + </p> + <p> + It was a page from the book I had just read transferred into my own + existence. + </p> + <p> + My heart was oppressed with inexpressible anguish. Crouched in a corner, + with my eyes fixed upon this dismal picture, I felt the cold slowly + creeping upon me, and I said to myself with bitterness: + </p> + <p> + “Let us die, since poverty is a dungeon guarded by suspicion, apathy, and + contempt, and from which it is vain to try to escape; let us die, since + there is no place for us at the banquet of the living!” + </p> + <p> + And I tried to rise to join my mother again, and to wait at her feet for + the hour of release. + </p> + <p> + This effort dispelled my dream, and I awoke with a start. + </p> + <p> + I looked around me; my lamp was expiring, the fire in my stove + extinguished, and my half-opened door was letting in an icy wind. I got + up, with a shiver, to shut and double-lock it; then I made for the alcove, + and went to bed in haste. + </p> + <p> + But the cold kept me awake a long time, and my thoughts continued the + interrupted dream. + </p> + <p> + The pictures I had lately accused of exaggeration now seemed but a too + faithful representation of reality; and I went to sleep without being able + to recover my optimism—or my warmth. + </p> + <p> + Thus did a cold stove and a badly closed door alter my point of view. All + went well when my blood circulated properly; all looked gloomy when the + cold laid hold on me. + </p> + <p> + This reminds me of the story of the duchess who was obliged to pay a visit + to the neighboring convent on a winter’s day. The convent was poor, there + was no wood, and the monks had nothing but their discipline and the ardor + of their prayers to keep out the cold. The duchess, who was shivering with + cold, returned home, greatly pitying the poor monks. While the servants + were taking off her cloak and adding two more logs to her fire, she called + her steward, whom she ordered to send some wood to the convent + immediately. She then had her couch moved close to the fireside, the + warmth of which soon revived her. The recollection of what she had just + suffered was speedily lost in her present comfort, when the steward came + in again to ask how many loads of wood he was to send. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you may wait,” said the great lady carelessly; “the weather is very + much milder.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, man’s judgments are formed less from reason than from sensation; and + as sensation comes to him from the outward world, so he finds himself more + or less under its influence; by little and little he imbibes a portion of + his habits and feelings from it. + </p> + <p> + It is not, then, without cause that, when we wish to judge of a stranger + beforehand, we look for indications of his character in the circumstances + which surround him. The things among which we live are necessarily made to + take our image, and we unconsciously leave in them a thousand impressions + of our minds. As we can judge by an empty bed of the height and attitude + of him who has slept in it, so the abode of every man discovers to a close + observer the extent of his intelligence and the feelings of his heart. + Bernardin de St.-Pierre has related the story of a young girl who refused + a suitor because he would never have flowers or domestic animals in his + house. Perhaps the sentence was severe, but not without reason. We may + presume that a man insensible to beauty and to humble affection must be + ill prepared to feel the enjoyments of a happy marriage. + </p> + <p> + 14th, seven o’clock P.M.—This morning, as I was opening my journal + to write, I had a visit from our old cashier. + </p> + <p> + His sight is not so good as it was, his hand begins to shake, and the work + he was able to do formerly is now becoming somewhat laborious to him. I + had undertaken to write out some of his papers, and he came for those I + had finished. + </p> + <p> + We conversed a long time by the stove, while he was drinking a cup of + coffee which I made him take. + </p> + <p> + M. Rateau is a sensible man, who has observed much and speaks little; so + that he has always something to say. + </p> + <p> + While looking over the accounts I had prepared for him, his look fell upon + my journal, and I was obliged to acknowledge that in this way I wrote a + diary of my actions and thoughts every evening for private use. From one + thing to another, I began speaking to him of my dream the day before, and + my reflections about the influence of outward objects upon our ordinary + sentiments. He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you, too, have my superstitions,” he said, quietly. “I have always + believed, like you, that you may know the game by the lair: it is only + necessary to have tact and experience; but without them we commit + ourselves to many rash judgments. For my part. I have been guilty of this + more than once, but sometimes I have also drawn a right conclusion. I + recollect especially an adventure which goes as far back as the first + years of my youth—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped. I looked at him as if I waited for his story, and he told it + me at once. + </p> + <p> + At this time he was still but third clerk to an attorney at Orleans. His + master had sent him to Montargis on different affairs, and he intended to + return in the diligence the same evening, after having received the amount + of a bill at a neighboring town; but they kept him at the debtor’s house, + and when he was able to set out the day had already closed. + </p> + <p> + Fearing not to be able to reach Montargis in good time, he took a + crossroad they pointed out to him. Unfortunately the fog increased, no + star was visible in the heavens, and the darkness became so great that he + lost his road. He tried to retrace his steps, passed twenty footpaths, and + at last was completely astray. + </p> + <p> + After the vexation of losing his place in the diligence, came the feeling + of uneasiness as to his situation. He was alone, on foot, lost in a + forest, without any means of finding his right road again, and with a + considerable sum of money about him, for which he was responsible. His + anxiety was increased by his inexperience. The idea of a forest was + connected in his mind with so many adventures of robbery and murder, that + he expected some fatal encounter every instant. + </p> + <p> + To say the truth, his situation was not encouraging. The place was not + considered safe, and for some time past there had been rumors of the + sudden disappearance of several horse-dealers, though there was no trace + of any crime having been committed. + </p> + <p> + Our young traveller, with his eyes staring forward, and his ears + listening, followed a footpath which he supposed might take him to some + house or road; but woods always succeeded to woods. At last he perceived a + light at a distance, and in a quarter of an hour he reached the highroad. + </p> + <p> + A single house, the light from which had attracted him, appeared at a + little distance. He was going toward the entrance gate of the courtyard, + when the trot of a horse made him turn his head. A man on horseback had + just appeared at the turning of the road, and in an instant was close to + him. + </p> + <p> + The first words he addressed to the young man showed him to be the farmer + himself. He related how he had lost himself, and learned from the + countryman that he was on the road to Pithiviers. Montargis was three + leagues behind him. + </p> + <p> + The fog had insensibly changed into a drizzling rain, which was beginning + to wet the young clerk through; he seemed afraid of the distance he had + still to go, and the horseman, who saw his hesitation, invited him to come + into the farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + It had something of the look of a fortress. Surrounded by a pretty high + wall, it could not be seen except through the bars of the great gate, + which was carefully closed. The farmer, who had got off his horse, did not + go near it, but, turning to the right, reached another entrance closed in + the same way, but of which he had the key. + </p> + <p> + Hardly had he passed the threshold when a terrible barking resounded from + each end of the yard. The farmer told his guest to fear nothing, and + showed him the dogs chained up to their kennels; both were of an + extraordinary size, and so savage that the sight of their master himself + could not quiet them. + </p> + <p> + A boy, attracted by their barking, came out of the house and took the + farmer’s horse. The latter began questioning him about some orders he had + given before he left the house, and went toward the stable to see that + they had been executed. + </p> + <p> + Thus left alone, our clerk looked about him. + </p> + <p> + A lantern which the boy had placed on the ground cast a dim light over the + courtyard. All around seemed empty and deserted. Not a trace was visible + of the disorder often seen in a country farmyard, and which shows a + temporary cessation of the work which is soon to be resumed again. Neither + a cart forgotten where the horses had been unharnessed, nor sheaves of + corn heaped up ready for threshing, nor a plow overturned in a corner and + half hidden under the freshly-cut clover. The yard was swept, the barns + shut up and padlocked. Not a single vine creeping up the walls; everywhere + stone, wood, and iron! + </p> + <p> + He took up the lantern and went up to the corner of the house. Behind was + a second yard, where he heard the barking of a third dog, and a covered + wall was built in the middle of it. + </p> + <p> + Our traveller looked in vain for the little farm garden, where pumpkins of + different sorts creep along the ground, or where the bees from the hives + hum under the hedges of honeysuckle and elder. Verdure and flowers were + nowhere to be seen. He did not even perceive the sight of a poultry-yard + or pigeon-house. The habitation of his host was everywhere wanting in that + which makes the grace and the life of the country. + </p> + <p> + The young man thought that his host must be of a very careless or a very + calculating disposition, to concede so little to domestic enjoyments and + the pleasures of the eye; and judging, in spite of himself, by what he + saw, he could not help feeling a distrust of his character. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time the farmer returned from the stables, and made him enter + the house. + </p> + <p> + The inside of the farmhouse corresponded to its outside. The whitewashed + walls had no other ornament than a row of guns of all sizes; the massive + furniture hardly redeemed its clumsy appearance by its great solidity. The + cleanliness was doubtful, and the absence of all minor conveniences proved + that a woman’s care was wanting in the household concerns. The young clerk + learned that the farmer, in fact, lived here with no one but his two sons. + </p> + <p> + Of this, indeed, the signs were plain enough. A table with the cloth laid, + that no one had taken the trouble to clear away, was left near the window. + The plates and dishes were scattered upon it without any order, and loaded + with potato-parings and half-picked bones. Several empty bottles emitted + an odor of brandy, mixed with the pungent smell of tobacco-smoke. + </p> + <p> + After seating his guest, the farmer lighted his pipe, and his two sons + resumed their work by the fireside. Now and then the silence was just + broken by a short remark, answered by a word or an exclamation; and then + all became as mute as before. + </p> + <p> + “From my childhood,” said the old cashier, “I had been very sensible to + the impression of outward objects; later in life, reflection had taught me + to study the causes of these impressions rather than to drive them away. I + set myself, then, to examine everything around me with great attention. + </p> + <p> + “Below the guns, I had remarked on entering, some wolftraps were + suspended, and to one of them still hung the mangled remains of a wolf’s + paw, which they had not yet taken off from the iron teeth. The blackened + chimneypiece was ornamented by an owl and a raven nailed on the wall, + their wings extended, and their throats with a huge nail through each; a + fox’s skin, freshly flayed, was spread before the window; and a larder + hook, fixed into the principal beam, held a headless goose, whose body + swayed about over our heads. + </p> + <p> + “My eyes were offended by all these details, and I turned them again upon + my hosts. The father, who sat opposite to me, only interrupted his smoking + to pour out his drink, or address some reprimand to his sons. The eldest + of these was scraping a deep bucket, and the bloody scrapings, which he + threw into the fire every instant, filled the room with a disagreeable + fetid smell; the second son was sharpening some butcher’s knives. I + learned from a word dropped from the father that they were preparing to + kill a pig the next day. + </p> + <p> + “These occupations and the whole aspect of things inside the house told of + such habitual coarseness in their way of living as seemed to explain, + while it formed the fitting counterpart of, the forbidding gloominess of + the outside. My astonishment by degrees changed into disgust, and my + disgust into uneasiness. I cannot detail the whole chain of ideas which + succeeded one another in my imagination; but, yielding to an impulse I + could not overcome, I got up, declaring I would go on my road again. + </p> + <p> + “The farmer made some effort to keep me; he spoke of the rain, of the + darkness, and of the length of the way. I replied to all by the absolute + necessity there was for my being at Montargis that very night; and + thanking him for his brief hospitality, I set off again in a haste which + might well have confirmed the truth of my words to him. + </p> + <p> + “However, the freshness of the night and the exercise of walking did not + fail to change the directions of my thoughts. When away from the objects + which had awakened such lively disgust in me, I felt it gradually + diminishing. I began to smile at the susceptibility of my feelings, and + then, in proportion as the rain became heavier and colder, these + strictures on myself assumed a tone of ill-temper. I silently accused + myself of the absurdity of mistaking sensation for admonitions of my + reason. After all, were not the farmer and his sons free to live alone, to + hunt, to keep dogs, and to kill a pig? Where was the crime of it? With + less nervous susceptibility, I should have accepted the shelter they + offered me, and I should now be sleeping snugly on a truss of straw, + instead of walking with difficulty through the cold and drizzling rain. I + thus continued to reproach myself, until, toward morning, I arrived at + Montargis, jaded and benumbed with cold. + </p> + <p> + “When, however, I got up refreshed, toward the middle of the next day, I + instinctively returned to my first opinion. The appearance of the + farmhouse presented itself to me under the same repulsive colors which the + evening before had determined me to make my escape from it. Reason itself + remained silent when reviewing all those coarse details, and was forced to + recognize in them the indications of a low nature, or else the presence of + some baleful influence. + </p> + <p> + “I went away the next day without being able to learn anything concerning + the farmer or his sons; but the recollection of my adventure remained + deeply fixed in my memory. + </p> + <p> + “Ten years afterward I was travelling in the diligence through the + department of the Loiret; I was leaning from the window, and looking at + some coppice ground now for the first time brought under cultivation, and + the mode of clearing which one of my travelling companions was explaining + to me, when my eyes fell upon a walled inclosure, with an iron-barred + gate. Inside it I perceived a house with all the blinds closed, and which + I immediately recollected; it was the farmhouse where I had been + sheltered. I eagerly pointed it out to my companion, and asked who lived + in it. + </p> + <p> + “‘Nobody just now,’ replied he. + </p> + <p> + “‘But was it not kept, some years ago, by a farmer and his two sons?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The Turreaus;’ said my travelling companion, looking at me; ‘did you + know them?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I saw them once.’ + </p> + <p> + “He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, yes!’ resumed he; ‘for many years they lived there like wolves in + their den; they merely knew how to till land, kill game, and drink. The + father managed the house, but men living alone, without women to love + them, without children to soften them, and without God to make them think + of heaven, always turn into wild beasts, you see; so one morning the + eldest son, who had been drinking too much brandy, would not harness the + plow-horses; his father struck him with his whip, and the son, who was mad + drunk, shot him dead with his gun.’” + </p> + <p> + 16th, P.M.—I have been thinking of the story of the old cashier + these two days; it came so opportunely upon the reflections my dream had + suggested to me. + </p> + <p> + Have I not an important lesson to learn from all this? + </p> + <p> + If our sensations have an incontestable influence upon our judgments, how + comes it that we are so little careful of those things which awaken or + modify these sensations? The external world is always reflected in us as + in a mirror, and fills our minds with pictures which, unconsciously to + ourselves, become the germs of our opinions and of our rules of conduct. + All the objects which surround us are then, in reality, so many talismans + whence good and evil influences are emitted, and it is for us to choose + them wisely, so as to create a healthy atmosphere for our minds. + </p> + <p> + Feeling convinced of this truth, I set about making a survey of my attic. + </p> + <p> + The first object on which my eyes rest is an old map of the history of the + principal monastery in my native province. I had unrolled it with much + satisfaction, and placed it on the most conspicuous part of the wall. Why + had I given it this place? Ought this sheet of old worm-eaten parchment to + be of so much value to me, who am neither an antiquary nor a scholar? Is + not its real importance in my sight that one of the abbots who founded it + bore my name, and that I shall, perchance, be able to make myself a + genealogical tree of it for the edification of my visitors? While writing + this, I feel my own blushes. Come, down with the map! let us banish it + into my deepest drawer. + </p> + <p> + As I passed my glass, I perceived several visiting cards complacently + displayed in the frame. By what chance is it that there are only names + that make a show among them? Here is a Polish count—a retired + colonel—the deputy of my department. Quick, quick, into the fire + with these proofs of vanity! and let us put this card in the handwriting + of our office-boy, this direction for cheap dinners, and the receipt of + the broker where I bought my last armchair, in their place. These + indications of my poverty will serve, as Montaigne says, ‘mater ma + superbe’, and will always make me recollect the modesty in which the + dignity of the lowly consists. + </p> + <p> + I have stopped before the prints hanging upon the wall. This large and + smiling Pomona, seated on sheaves of corn, and whose basket is overflowing + with fruit, only produces thoughts of joy and plenty; I was looking at her + the other day, when I fell asleep denying such a thing as misery. Let us + give her as companion this picture of Winter, in which everything tells of + sorrow and suffering: one picture will modify the other. + </p> + <p> + And this Happy Family of Greuze’s! What joy in the children’s eyes! What + sweet repose in the young woman’s face! What religious feeling in the + grandfather’s countenance! May God preserve their happiness to them! but + let us hang by its side the picture of this mother, who weeps over an + empty cradle. Human life has two faces, both of which we must dare to + contemplate in their turn. + </p> + <p> + Let me hide, too, these ridiculous monsters which ornament my + chimneypiece. Plato has said that “the beautiful is nothing else than the + visible form of the good.” If it is so, the ugly should be the visible + form of the evil, and, by constantly beholding it, the mind insensibly + deteriorates. + </p> + <p> + But above all, in order to cherish the feelings of kindness and pity, let + me hang at the foot of my bed this affecting picture of the Last Sleep! + Never have I been able to look at it without feeling my heart touched. + </p> + <p> + An old woman, clothed in rags, is lying by a roadside; her stick is at her + feet, and her head rests upon a stone; she has fallen asleep; her hands + are clasped; murmuring a prayer of her childhood, she sleeps her last + sleep, she dreams her last dream! + </p> + <p> + She sees herself, again a strong and happy child, keeping the sheep on the + common, gathering the berries from the hedges, singing, curtsying to + passers-by, and making the sign of the cross when the first star appears + in the heavens! Happy time, filled with fragrance and sunshine! She wants + nothing yet, for she is ignorant of what there is to wish for. + </p> + <p> + But see her grown up; the time is come for working bravely: she must cut + the corn, thresh the wheat, carry the bundles of flowering clover or + branches of withered leaves to the farm. If her toil is hard, hope shines + like a sun over everything and it wipes the drops of sweat away. The + growing girl already sees that life is a task, but she still sings as she + fulfills it. + </p> + <p> + By-and-bye the burden becomes heavier; she is a wife, she is a mother! She + must economize the bread of to-day, have her eye upon the morrow, take + care of the sick, and sustain the feeble; she must act, in short, that + part of an earthly Providence, so easy when God gives us his aid, so hard + when he forsakes us. She is still strong, but she is anxious; she sings no + longer! + </p> + <p> + Yet a few years, and all is overcast. The husband’s health is broken; his + wife sees him pine away by the now fireless hearth; cold and hunger finish + what sickness had begun; he dies, and his widow sits on the ground by the + coffin provided by the charity of others, pressing her two half-naked + little ones in her arms. She dreads the future, she weeps, and she droops + her head. + </p> + <p> + At last the future has come; the children are grown up, but they are no + longer with her. Her son is fighting under his country’s flag, and his + sister is gone. Both have been lost to her for a long time—perhaps + forever; and the strong girl, the brave wife, the courageous mother, is + henceforth only a poor old beggar-woman, without a family, and without a + home! She weeps no more, sorrow has subdued her; she surrenders, and waits + for death. + </p> + <p> + Death, that faithful friend of the wretched, is come: not hideous and with + mockery, as superstition represents, but beautiful, smiling, and crowned + with stars! The gentle phantom stoops to the beggar; its pale lips murmur + a few airy words, which announce to her the end of her labors; a peaceful + joy comes over the aged beggarwoman, and, leaning on the shoulder of the + great Deliverer, she has passed unconsciously from her last earthly sleep + to her eternal rest. + </p> + <p> + Lie there, thou poor way-wearied woman! The leaves will serve thee for a + winding-sheet. Night will shed her tears of dew over thee, and the birds + will sing sweetly by thy remains. Thy visit here below will not have left + more trace than their flight through the air; thy name is already + forgotten, and the only legacy thou hast to leave is the hawthorn stick + lying forgotten at thy feet! + </p> + <p> + Well! some one will take it up—some soldier of that great human host + which is scattered abroad by misery or by vice; for thou art not an + exception, thou art an instance; and under the same sun which shines so + pleasantly upon all, in the midst of these flowering vineyards, this ripe + corn, and these wealthy cities, entire generations suffer, succeed each + other, and still bequeath to each the beggar’s stick! + </p> + <p> + The sight of this sad picture shall make me more grateful for what God has + given me, and more compassionate for those whom he has treated with less + indulgence; it shall be a lesson and a subject for reflection for me. + </p> + <p> + Ah! if we would watch for everything that might improve and instruct us; + if the arrangements of our daily life were so disposed as to be a constant + school for our minds! but oftenest we take no heed of them. Man is an + eternal mystery to himself; his own person is a house into which he never + enters, and of which he studies the outside alone. Each of us need have + continually before him the famous inscription which once instructed + Socrates, and which was engraved on the walls of Delphi by an unknown + hand: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + KNOW THYSELF. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE END OF THE YEAR + </h2> + <h3> + December 30th, P.M. + </h3> + <p> + I was in bed, and hardly recovered from the delirious fever which had kept + me for so long between life and death. My weakened brain was making + efforts to recover its activity; my thoughts, like rays of light + struggling through the clouds, were still confused and imperfect; at times + I felt a return of the dizziness which made a chaos of all my ideas, and I + floated, so to speak, between alternate fits of mental wandering and + consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes everything seemed plain to me, like the prospect which, from the + top of some high mountain, opens before us in clear weather. We + distinguish water, woods, villages, cattle, even the cottage perched on + the edge of the ravine; then suddenly there comes a gust of wind laden + with mist, and all is confused and indistinct. + </p> + <p> + Thus, yielding to the oscillations of a half-recovered reason, I allowed + my mind to follow its various impulses without troubling myself to + separate the real from the imaginary; I glided softly from one to the + other, and my dreams and waking thoughts succeeded closely upon one + another. + </p> + <p> + Now, while my mind is wandering in this unsettled state, see, underneath + the clock which measures the hours with its loud ticking, a female figure + appears before me! + </p> + <p> + At first sight I saw enough to satisfy me that she was not a daughter of + Eve. In her eye was the last flash of an expiring star, and her face had + the pallor of an heroic death-struggle. She was dressed in a drapery of a + thousand changing colors of the brightest and the most sombre hues, and + held a withered garland in her hand. + </p> + <p> + After having contemplated her for some moments, I asked her name, and what + brought her into my attic. Her eyes, which were following the movements of + the clock, turned toward me, and she replied: + </p> + <p> + “You see in me the year which is just drawing to its end; I come to + receive your thanks and your farewell.” + </p> + <p> + I raised myself on my elbow in surprise, which soon gave place to bitter + resentment. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you want thanks,” cried I; “but first let me know what for? + </p> + <p> + “When I welcomed your coming, I was still young and vigorous: you have + taken from me each day some little of my strength, and you have ended by + inflicting an illness upon me; already, thanks to you, my blood is less + warm, my muscles less firm, and my feet less agile than before! You have + planted the germs of infirmity in my bosom; there, where the summer + flowers of life were growing, you have wickedly sown the nettles of old + age! + </p> + <p> + “And, as if it were not enough to weaken my body, you have also diminished + the powers of my soul; you have extinguished her enthusiasm; she is become + more sluggish and more timid. Formerly her eyes took in the whole of + mankind in their generous survey; but you have made her nearsighted, and + now she hardly sees beyond herself! That is what you have done for my + spiritual being: then as to my outward existence, see to what grief, + neglect, and misery you have reduced it! For the many days that the fever + has kept me chained to this bed, who has taken care of this home in which + I placed all my joy? Shall I not find my closets empty, my bookcase, + stripped, all my poor treasures lost through negligence or dishonesty? + Where are the plants I cultivated, the birds I fed? All are gone! my attic + is despoiled, silent and solitary! As it is only for the last few moments + that I have returned to a consciousness of what surrounds me, I am even + ignorant who has nursed me during my long illness! Doubtless some + hireling, who will leave when all my means of recompense are exhausted! + And what will my masters, for whom I am bound to work, have said to my + absence? At this time of the year, when business is most pressing, can + they have done without me, will they even have tried to do so? Perhaps I + am already superseded in the humble situation by which I earned my daily + bread! And it is thou-thou alone, wicked daughter of Time—who hast + brought all these misfortunes upon me: strength, health, comfort, work—thou + hast taken all from me. I have only received outrage and loss from thee, + and yet thou darest to claim my gratitude!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! die then, since thy day is come; but die despised and cursed; and may + I write on thy tomb the epitaph the Arabian poet inscribed upon that of a + king: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Rejoice, thou passer-by: he whom we have buried here + cannot live again.’” + + ....................... +</pre> + <p> + I was wakened by a hand taking mine; and opening my eyes, I recognized the + doctor. + </p> + <p> + After having felt my pulse, he nodded his head, sat down at the foot of + the bed, and looked at me, rubbing his nose with his snuffbox. I have + since learned that this was a sign of satisfaction with the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Well! so we wanted old snub-nose to carry us off?” said M. Lambert, in + his half-joking, half-scolding way. “What the deuce of a hurry we were in! + It was necessary to hold you back with both arms at least!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you had given me up, doctor?” asked I, rather alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” replied the old physician. “We can’t give up what we have + not got; and I make it a rule never to have any hope. We are but + instruments in the hands of Providence, and each of us should say, with + Ambroise Pare: ‘I tend him, God cures him!”’ + </p> + <p> + “May He be blessed then, as well as you,” cried I; “and may my health come + back with the new year!” + </p> + <p> + M. Lambert shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Begin by asking yourself for it,” resumed he, bluntly. “God has given it + you, and it is your own sense, and not chance, that must keep it for you. + One would think, to hear people talk, that sickness comes upon us like the + rain or the sunshine, without one having a word to say in the matter. + Before we complain of being ill we should prove that we deserve to be + well.” + </p> + <p> + I was about to smile, but the doctor looked angry. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you think that I am joking,” resumed he, raising his voice; “but tell + me, then, which of us gives his health the same attention that he gives to + his business? Do you economize your strength as you economize your money? + Do you avoid excess and imprudence in the one case with the same care as + extravagance or foolish speculations in the other? Do you keep as regular + accounts of your mode of living as you do of your income? Do you consider + every evening what has been wholesome or unwholesome for you, with the + same care that you bring to the examination of your expenditure? You may + smile; but have you not brought this illness on yourself by a thousand + indiscretions?” + </p> + <p> + I began to protest against this, and asked him to point out these + indiscretions. The old doctor spread out his fingers, and began to reckon + upon them one by one. + </p> + <p> + “Primo,” cried he, “want of exercise. You live here like a mouse in a + cheese, without air, motion, or change. Consequently, the blood circulates + badly, the fluids thicken, the muscles, being inactive, do not claim their + share of nutrition, the stomach flags, and the brain grows weary. + </p> + <p> + “Secundo. Irregular food. Caprice is your cook; your stomach a slave who + must accept what you give it, but who presently takes a sullen revenge, + like all slaves. + </p> + <p> + “Tertio. Sitting up late. Instead of using the night for sleep, you spend + it in reading; your bedstead is a bookcase, your pillows a desk! At the + time when the wearied brain asks for rest, you lead it through these + nocturnal orgies, and you are surprised to find it the worse for them the + next day. + </p> + <p> + “Quarto. Luxurious habits. Shut up in your attic, you insensibly surround + yourself with a thousand effeminate indulgences. You must have list for + your door, a blind for your window, a carpet for your feet, an easy-chair + stuffed with wool for your back, your fire lit at the first sign of cold, + and a shade to your lamp; and thanks to all these precautions, the least + draught makes you catch cold, common chairs give you no rest, and you must + wear spectacles to support the light of day. You have thought you were + acquiring comforts, and you have only contracted infirmities. + </p> + <p> + “Quinto” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! enough, enough, doctor!” cried I. “Pray, do not carry your + examination farther; do not attach a sense of remorse to each of my + pleasures.” + </p> + <p> + The old doctor rubbed his nose with his snuffbox. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said he, more gently, and rising at the same time, “you would + escape from the truth. You shrink from inquiry—a proof that you are + guilty. ‘Habemus confitentem reum’! But at least, my friend, do not go on + laying the blame on Time, like an old woman.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he again felt my pulse, and took his leave, declaring that his + function was at an end, and that the rest depended upon myself. + </p> + <p> + When the doctor was gone, I set about reflecting upon what he had said. + </p> + <p> + Although his words were too sweeping, they were not the less true in the + main. How often we accuse chance of an illness, the origin of which we + should seek in ourselves! Perhaps it would have been wiser to let him + finish the examination he had begun. + </p> + <p> + But is there not another of more importance—that which concerns the + health of the soul? Am I so sure of having neglected no means of + preserving that during the year which is now ending? Have I, as one of + God’s soldiers upon earth, kept my courage and my arms efficient? Shall I + be ready for the great review of souls which must pass before Him WHO IS + in the dark valley of Jehoshaphat? + </p> + <p> + Darest thou examine thyself, O my soul! and see how often thou hast erred? + </p> + <p> + First, thou hast erred through pride! for I have not duly valued the + lowly. I have drunk too deeply of the intoxicating wines of genius, and + have found no relish in pure water. I have disdained those words which had + no other beauty than their sincerity; I have ceased to love men solely + because they are men—I have loved them for their endowments; I have + contracted the world within the narrow compass of a pantheon, and my + sympathy has been awakened by admiration only. The vulgar crowd, which I + ought to have followed with a friendly eye because it is composed of my + brothers in hope or grief, I have let pass by with as much indifference as + if it were a flock of sheep. I am indignant with him who rolls in riches + and despises the man poor in worldly wealth; and yet, vain of my trifling + knowledge, I despise him who is poor in mind—I scorn the poverty of + intellect as others do that of dress; I take credit for a gift which I did + not bestow on myself, and turn the favor of fortune into a weapon with + which to attack others. + </p> + <p> + Ah! if, in the worst days of revolutions, ignorance has revolted and + raised a cry of hatred against genius, the fault is not alone in the + envious malice of ignorance, but comes in part, too, from the contemptuous + pride of knowledge. + </p> + <p> + Alas! I have too completely forgotten the fable of the two sons of the + magician of Bagdad. + </p> + <p> + One of them, struck by an irrevocable decree of destiny, was born blind, + while the other enjoyed all the delights of sight. The latter, proud of + his own advantages, laughed at his brother’s blindness, and disdained him + as a companion. One morning the blind boy wished to go out with him. + </p> + <p> + “To what purpose,” said he, “since the gods have put nothing in common + between us? For me creation is a stage, where a thousand charming scenes + and wonderful actors appear in succession; for you it is only an obscure + abyss, at the bottom of which you hear the confused murmur of an invisible + world. Continue then alone in your darkness, and leave the pleasures of + light to those upon whom the day-star shines.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he went away, and his brother, left alone, began to cry + bitterly. His father, who heard him, immediately ran to him, and tried to + console him by promising to give him whatever he desired. + </p> + <p> + “Can you give me sight?” asked the child. + </p> + <p> + “Fate does not permit it,” said the magician. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” cried the blind boy, eagerly, “I ask you to put out the sun!” + </p> + <p> + Who knows whether my pride has not provoked the same wish on the part of + some one of my brothers who does not see? + </p> + <p> + But how much oftener have I erred through levity and want of thought! How + many resolutions have I taken at random! how many judgments have I + pronounced for the sake of a witticism! how many mischiefs have I not done + without any sense of my responsibility! The greater part of men harm one + another for the sake of doing something. We laugh at the honor of one, and + compromise the reputation of another, like an idle man who saunters along + a hedgerow, breaking the young branches and destroying the most beautiful + flowers. + </p> + <p> + And, nevertheless, it is by this very thoughtlessness that the fame of + some men is created. It rises gradually, like one of those mysterious + mounds in barbarous countries, to which a stone is added by every + passerby; each one brings something at random, and adds it as he passes, + without being able himself to see whether he is raising a pedestal or a + gibbet. Who will dare look behind him, to see his rash judgments held up + there to view? + </p> + <p> + Some time ago I was walking along the edge of the green mound on which the + Montmartre telegraph stands. Below me, along one of the zigzag paths which + wind up the hill, a man and a girl were coming up, and arrested my + attention. The man wore a shaggy coat, which gave him some resemblance to + a wild beast; and he held a thick stick in his hand, with which he + described various strange figures in the air. He spoke very loud, and in a + voice which seemed to me convulsed with passion. He raised his eyes every + now and then with an expression of savage harshness, and it appeared to me + that he was reproaching and threatening the girl, and that she was + listening to him with a submissiveness which touched my heart. Two or + three times she ventured a few words, doubtless in the attempt to justify + herself; but the man in the greatcoat began again immediately with his + loud and angry voice, his savage looks, and his threatening evolutions in + the air. I followed him with my eyes, vainly endeavoring to catch a word + as he passed, until he disappeared behind the hill. + </p> + <p> + I had evidently just seen one of those domestic tyrants whose sullen + tempers are excited by the patience of their victims, and who, though they + have the power to become the beneficent gods of a family, choose rather to + be their tormentors. + </p> + <p> + I cursed the unknown savage in my heart, and I felt indignant that these + crimes against the sacred peace of home could not be punished as they + deserve, when I heard his voice approaching nearer. He had turned the + path, and soon appeared before me at the top of the slope. + </p> + <p> + The first glance, and his first words, explained everything to me: in + place of what I had taken for the furious tones and terrible looks of an + angry man, and the attitude of a frightened victim, I had before me only + an honest citizen, who squinted and stuttered, but who was explaining the + management of silkworms to his attentive daughter. + </p> + <p> + I turned homeward, smiling at my mistake; but before I reached my faubourg + I saw a crowd running, I heard calls for help, and every finger pointed in + the same direction to a distant column of flame. A manufactory had taken + fire, and everybody was rushing forward to assist in extinguishing it. + </p> + <p> + I hesitated. Night was coming on; I felt tired; a favorite book was + awaiting me; I thought there would be no want of help, and I went on my + way. + </p> + <p> + Just before I had erred from want of consideration; now it was from + selfishness and cowardice. + </p> + <p> + But what! have I not on a thousand other occasions forgotten the duties + which bind us to our fellowmen? Is this the first time I have avoided + paying society what I owe it? Have I not always behaved to my companions + with injustice, and like the lion? Have I not claimed successively every + share? If any one is so ill-advised as to ask me to return some little + portion, I get provoked, I am angry, I try to escape from it by every + means. How many times, when I have perceived a beggar sitting huddled up + at the end of the street, have I not gone out of my way, for fear that + compassion would impoverish me by forcing me to be charitable! How often + have I doubted the misfortunes of others, that I might with justice harden + my heart against them. + </p> + <p> + With what satisfaction have I sometimes verified the vices of the poor + man, in order to show that his misery is the punishment he deserves! + </p> + <p> + Oh! let us not go farther—let us not go farther! I interrupted the + doctor’s examination, but how much sadder is this one! We pity the + diseases of the body; we shudder at those of the soul. + </p> + <p> + I was happily disturbed in my reverie by my neighbor, the old soldier. + </p> + <p> + Now I think of it, I seem always to have seen, during my fever, the figure + of this good old man, sometimes leaning against my bed, and sometimes + sitting at his table, surrounded by his sheets of pasteboard. + </p> + <p> + He has just come in with his glue-pot, his quire of green paper, and his + great scissors. I called him by his name; he uttered a joyful exclamation, + and came near me. + </p> + <p> + “Well! so the bullet is found again!” cried he, taking my two hands into + the maimed one which was left him; “it has not been without trouble, I can + tell you; the campaign has been long enough to win two clasps in. I have + seen no few fellows with the fever batter windmills during my hospital + days: at Leipsic, I had a neighbor who fancied a chimney was on fire in + his stomach, and who was always calling for the fire-engines; but the + third day it all went out of itself. But with you it has lasted + twenty-eight days—as long as one of the Little Corporal’s + campaigns.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not mistaken then; you were near me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well! I had only to cross the passage. This left hand has not made you a + bad nurse for want of the right; but, bah! you did not know what hand gave + you drink, and it did not prevent that beggar of a fever from being + drowned—for all the world like Poniatowski in the Elster.” + </p> + <p> + The old soldier began to laugh, and I, feeling too much affected to speak, + pressed his hand against my breast. He saw my emotion, and hastened to put + an end to it. + </p> + <p> + “By-the-bye, you know that from to-day you have a right to draw your + rations again,” resumed he gayly; “four meals, like the German meinherrs—nothing + more! The doctor is your house steward.” + </p> + <p> + “We must find the cook, too,” replied I, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “She is found,” said the veteran. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Genevieve.” + </p> + <p> + “The fruit-woman?” + </p> + <p> + “While I am talking she is cooking for you, neighbor; and do not fear her + sparing either butter or trouble. As long as life and death were fighting + for you, the honest woman passed her time in going up and down stairs to + learn which way the battle went. And, stay, I am sure this is she.” + </p> + <p> + In fact we heard steps in the passage, and he went to open the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well!” continued he, “it is Mother Millot, our portress, another of + your good friends, neighbor, and whose poultices I recommend to you. Come + in, Mother Millot—come in; we are quite bonny boys this morning, and + ready to step a minuet if we had our dancing-shoes.” + </p> + <p> + The portress came in, quite delighted. She brought my linen, washed and + mended by herself, with a little bottle of Spanish wine, the gift of her + sailor son, and kept for great occasions. I would have thanked her, but + the good woman imposed silence upon me, under the pretext that the doctor + had forbidden me to speak. I saw her arrange everything in my drawers, the + neat appearance of which struck me; an attentive hand had evidently been + there, and day by day put straight the unavoidable disorder consequent on + sickness. + </p> + <p> + As she finished, Genevieve arrived with my dinner; she was followed by + Mother Denis, the milk-woman over the way, who had learned, at the same + time, the danger I had been in, and that I was now beginning to be + convalescent. The good Savoyard brought me a new-laid egg, which she + herself wished to see me eat. + </p> + <p> + It was necessary to relate minutely all my illness to her. At every detail + she uttered loud exclamations; then, when the portress warned her to be + less noisy, she excused herself in a whisper. They made a circle around me + to see me eat my dinner; each mouthful I took was accompanied by their + expressions of satisfaction and thankfulness. Never had the King of + France, when he dined in public, excited such admiration among the + spectators. + </p> + <p> + As they were taking the dinner away, my colleague, the old cashier, + entered in his turn. + </p> + <p> + I could not prevent my heart beating as I recognized him. How would the + heads of the firm look upon my absence, and what did he come to tell me? + </p> + <p> + I waited with inexpressible anxiety for him to speak; but he sat down by + me, took my hand, and began rejoicing over my recovery, without saying a + word about our masters. I could not endure this uncertainty any longer. + </p> + <p> + “And the Messieurs Durmer,” asked I, hesitatingly, “how have they taken—the + interruption to my work?” + </p> + <p> + “There has been no interruption,” replied the old clerk, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Each one in the office took a share of your duty; all has gone on as + usual, and the Messieurs Durmer have perceived no difference.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much. After so many instances of affection, this filled up + the measure. I could not restrain my tears. + </p> + <p> + Thus the few services I had been able to do for others had been + acknowledged by them a hundredfold! I had sown a little seed, and every + grain had fallen on good ground, and brought forth a whole sheaf. Ah! this + completes the lesson the doctor gave me. If it is true that the diseases, + whether of the mind or body, are the fruit of our follies and our vices, + sympathy and affection are also the rewards of our having done our duty. + Every one of us, with God’s help, and within the narrow limits of human + capability, himself makes his own disposition, character, and permanent + condition. + </p> + <p> + Everybody is gone; the old soldier has brought me back my flowers and my + birds, and they are my only companions. The setting sun reddens my + half-closed curtains with its last rays. My brain is clear, and my heart + lighter. A thin mist floats before my eyes, and I feel myself in that + happy state which precedes a refreshing sleep. + </p> + <p> + Yonder, opposite the bed, the pale goddess in her drapery of a thousand + changing colors, and with her withered garland, again appears before me; + but this time I hold out my hand to her with a grateful smile. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, beloved year! whom I but now unjustly accused. That which I have + suffered must not be laid to thee; for thou wast but a tract through which + God had marked out my road—a ground where I had reaped the harvest I + had sown. I will love thee, thou wayside shelter, for those hours of + happiness thou hast seen me enjoy; I will love thee even for the suffering + thou hast seen me endure. Neither happiness nor suffering came from thee; + but thou hast been the scene for them. Descend again then, in peace, into + eternity, and be blest, thou who hast left me experience in the place of + youth, sweet memories instead of past time, and gratitude as payment for + good offices.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Always to mistake feeling for evidence + Ambroise Pare: ‘I tend him, God cures him!’ + Are we then bound to others only by the enforcement of laws + Attach a sense of remorse to each of my pleasures + Brought them up to poverty + But above these ruins rises a calm and happy face + Carn-ival means, literally, “farewell to flesh!” + Coffee is the grand work of a bachelor’s housekeeping + Contemptuous pride of knowledge + Death, that faithful friend of the wretched + Defeat and victory only displace each other by turns + Did not think the world was so great + Do they understand what makes them so gay? + Each of us regards himself as the mirror of the community + Ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness + Every one keeps his holidays in his own way + Fame and power are gifts that are dearly bought + Favorite and conclusive answer of his class—“I know” + Fear of losing a moment from business + Finishes his sin thoroughly before he begins to repent + Fortune sells what we believe she gives + Her kindness, which never sleeps + Houses are vessels which take mere passengers + Hubbub of questions which waited for no reply + I make it a rule never to have any hope + Ignorant of what there is to wish for + Looks on an accomplished duty neither as a merit nor a grievance + Make himself a name: he becomes public property + Moderation is the great social virtue + More stir than work + My patronage has become her property + No one is so unhappy as to have nothing to give + Not desirous to teach goodness + Nothing is dishonorable which is useful + Our tempers are like an opera-glass + Poverty, you see, is a famous schoolmistress + Power of necessity + Prisoners of work + Progress can never be forced on without danger + Question is not to discover what will suit us + Richer than France herself, for I have no deficit in my budget + Ruining myself, but we must all have our Carnival + Satisfy our wants, if we know how to set bounds to them + Sensible man, who has observed much and speaks little + So much confidence at first, so much doubt at las + Sullen tempers are excited by the patience of their victims + The happiness of the wise man costs but little + The man in power gives up his peace + Two thirds of human existence are wasted in hesitation + Virtue made friends, but she did not take pupils + We do not understand that others may live on their own account + We are not bound to live, while we are bound to do our duty + What have you done with the days God granted you + What a small dwelling joy can live + You may know the game by the lair +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An “Attic” Philosopher, Complete +by Emile Souvestre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN “ATTIC” PHILOSOPHER, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3999-h.htm or 3999-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/9/3999/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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