Conscience — Complete. Hector Malot

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СКАЧАТЬ on the collar of his coat, a long, curled beard, a face energetic, but troubled and wan, to which the pale blue eyes gave an expression of hardness that was accentuated by a prominent jaw and a decided air. A Gaul, a true Gaul of ancient times, strong, bold, and resolute.

      Brigard continued:

      “It is incontestable”—this was his formula, because everything he said was incontestable to him, simply because he said it—“it is incontestable that in the struggle for existence the dogma of conscience must be established, its only sanction being the performance of duty and inward satisfaction—”

      “Duty accomplished toward whom?” interrupted Saniel.

      “Toward one’s self.”

      “Then begin by stating what are our duties, and codify what is good and what is bad.”

      “That is easy,” some one replied.

      “Easy if you admit a certain innate regard for human life, for property, and for the family. But you must acknowledge that not all men have this regard. How many believe that it is not a fault to run away with the wife of a friend, not a crime to appropriate something that they want, or to kill an enemy! Where are the duties of those who reason and feel in this way? What is their inward satisfaction worth? This is why I will not admit that conscience is the proper guide of our actions.”

      There were several exclamations at this, which Brigard checked.

      “What guide, then, shall men obey?” he demanded.

      “Force, which is the last word of the philosophy of life!”

      “That which leads to a wise and progressive extermination. Is this what you desire?”

      “Why not? I do not shrink from an extermination that relieves humanity of idlers that it drags about without power to advance or to free itself, finally sinking under the load. Is it not better for the world to be rid of such people, who obstruct the advancement of others?”

      “At least the idea is bizarre coming from a doctor,” interrupted Crozat, “since it would put an end to hospitals.”

      “Not at all; I would preserve them for the study of monsters.”

      “In placing society on this antagonistic footing,” said Brigard, “you destroy society itself, which is founded on reciprocity, on good fellowship; and in doing so you can create for the strong a state of suspicion that paralyzes them. Carthage and Venice practised the selection by force, and destroyed themselves.”

      “You speak of force, my dear Saniel,” interrupted a voice; “where do you get that—the force of things, the tatum? There is no beginning, no will; events decide for us climate, temperament, environment.”

      “Then,” replied Saniel, “there is no responsibility, and this instrument conscience, that should decide everything, is good for nothing. You need not consider consequences. Success or defeat may yet be immaterial, for the accomplishment of an act that you have believed condemnable may serve the race, while another that you have believed beneficent may prove injurious; from which it follows that intentions only should be judged, and that no one but God can sound human hearts to their depths.”

      He began to laugh.

      “Do you believe that? Is that the conclusion at which you have arrived?”

      A waiter entered, carrying pitchers of beer on a tray, and the discussion was necessarily interrupted, every one drawing up to the table where Crozat filled the glasses, and the conversation took a more private turn.

      Saniel shook hands with Brigard, who received him somewhat coldly; then he approached Glady with the manifest intention of detaining him, but Glady had said that he was obliged to leave, so Saniel said that he could remain no longer, and had only dropped in on passing.

      When they were both gone Brigard turned to Crozat and Nougarede, who were near him, and declared that Saniel made him uneasy.

      “He believes himself stronger than life,” he said, “because he is sound and intelligent. He must take care that he does not go too far!”

CHAPTER II. THE RICH MAN’S REFUSAL

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      When Saniel and Glady reached the street, the rain that had fallen since morning had ceased, and the asphalt shone clear and glittering like a mirror.

      “The walking is good,” Saniel remarked.

      “It will rain again,” responded Glady, looking at the sky.

      “I think not.” It was evident that Glady wished to take a cab, but as none passed he was obliged to walk with Saniel.

      “Do you know,” he said, “that you have wounded Brigard?”

      “I regret it sincerely; but the salon of our friend Crozat is not yet a church, and I do not suppose that discussion is forbidden there.”

      “To deny is not to discuss.”

      “You say that as if you were angry with me.”

      “Not at all. I am sorry that you have wounded Brigard—nothing more.”

      “That is too much, because I have a sincere esteem, a real friendship for you, if you will permit me to say so.”

      But Glady, apparently, did not desire the conversation to take this turn.

      “I think this is an empty cab,” he said, as a fiacre approached them.

      “No,” replied Saniel, “I see the light of a cigar through the windowpane.”

      Glady made a slight gesture of impatience that was not lost upon Saniel, who was expecting some such demonstration.

      Rich, and frequenting the society of poor men, Glady lived in dread of borrowers. It was enough for any man to appear to wish to talk to him privately to make him believe that he was going to ask for fifty louis or twenty francs; so often was this the case that every friend or comrade was an enemy against whom he must defend his purse. And so he lay in wait as if expecting some one to spring upon him, his eyes open, his ears listening, and his hands in his pockets. This explains his attitude toward Saniel, in whom he scented a demand for money, and was the reason for his attempt to escape by taking a cab. But luck was against him, and he tried to decline the unspoken request in another way.

      “Do not be surprised,” he said, with the volubility with which a man speaks when he does not wish to give his companion a chance to say a word, “that I was pained to see Brigard take seriously an argument that evidently was not directed against him.”

      “Neither against him nor against his ideas.”

      “I know that; you do not need to defend yourself. But I have so much friendship, so much esteem and respect for Brigard that everything that touches him affects me. And how could it be otherwise when one knows his value, and what a man he is? This life of mediocrity СКАЧАТЬ