﻿YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿a﻿﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
a—2﻿Entered at Stationers' Hall 1896﻿﻿" Bouvard" written in his neighbour's hat, while the latter easily traced " P6cuchet" in the cap of the individual who wore the frock-coat.﻿﻿﻿GusyvVe 7|AUBe^T.﻿﻿GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
_u*_
BOUVARD AND PfiCUCH ET
AUTHORISED EDITION
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY
D. F. HANNIGAN, LL.B.
BARRISTER-AT-LAW
ILLUSTRATED WITH NINE ORIGINAL DESIGNS AFTER S. GORSKI
LONDON
H. S. NICHOLS 3 Soho Square & 6za Piccadilly W 1896 (All rights reserved)﻿II. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3, SOHO SQUARE, I.ONDON, \V.﻿TRANSLATOR'S NOTE
Gustave Flaubert died on the 8th of May, 1880, and after his death " Bouvard et Pecuchet," which he had left in an unfinished state, was published. In translating the work, no liberties have been taken with the text; but one or, two passages have, for obvious reasons, been slightly modified. The notes of the author containing his plan for the completion of the work have also been embodied in this translation.﻿﻿INTRODUCTION
The two works on which Flaubert bestowed the greatest pains, and which caused him the greatest anxiety, were La Tentation de S. Antoine and Bouvard et Pecuchet. No two books could, in many respects, be more dissimilar ; and yet they resemble one another in the undercurrent of irony which is one of the peculiarities of Flaubert's genius. His correspondence with Tourgueneff shows how deeply and even painfully the central idea of the Tentation affected his mind. His feeling about Bouvard et Pecuchet may be seen from a reference to the novel, even before it had actually been commenced, in a letter to Guy de Maupassant dated the 28th of July 1874.
" I shall be back at Croisset on Friday evening, 14 and on Saturday I begin Bouvard et Pecuchet. I tremble "before it, as on the eve of embarking on a journey "round the world."
Six years later he was still working at this book ; and he did not live to finish it. It is said that Flaubert read and annotated fifteen hundred volumes in order to produce the four hundred octavo pages which he had almost completed before his death.﻿X
INTRODUCTION
Though only a fragment, this work is a masterpiece ; and its humour is of that superb and, one might add, profound order, which appeals to every human heart. Never has the tragi-comedy of life more luminously revealed than it has been in this marvellous book.
Flaubert bitterly realised the colourlessness, the dismal ugliness of modern life, and he did not believe in the spread of superficial knowledge which is the bane of the nineteenth century. Ihe satire of Bouvard et Pecuchet is directed against the evils of this half-knowledge, and the absurdity of that empiricism which has been foolishly described as " popular culture."
The friendship of Bouvard and Pecuchet has something touching and even noble in it; but their experiments it horticulture, anatomy and mesmerism are unutterably grotesque. The reader cannot fail to see that the author of this novel possessed himself a very extensive acquaintance with scientific subjects. Sometimes the language put into the mouths of the two friends is thoroughly rational and philosophic, and herein Flaubert shows his art, as Shakespeare does in the character of Polonius. Words of wisdom are not unfrequently spoken by imbeciles; and the two Parisian clerks, whom the great French novelist has immortalised, have much in common with the self-important personage whom Hamlet﻿INTRODUCTION
xi
referred to as a " wretched, rash, intruding fool."
The characters in the novel are all limned with a master's hand. Bouvard, the stout widower with his cynical contempt for female virtue, and his love of the "good things of this world," is quite a contrast to the lean bachelor Pecuchet, with his priggish notions, his insatiable curiosity, and his craze for dabbling in theology. The Abbe Jeuffroy, with his combination of dogmatism and practical materialism, is a type of ecclesiastic which is probably not yet extinct The Mayor Foureau, with his brutal notions as to the power of the law, and the schoolmaster Petil, who is in revolt against Society itself and who justifies his anarchic views by pointing to his half-starving wife and children, are also wonderfully life-like creations. Madame Bordin, the wily Norman widow who outwits Bouvard, is a study of female character full of sarcastic touches, and, at the same time, entirely free from exaggeration. Two other admirably drawn characters are the Comte de Faverges, who sees in religion an instrument for muzzling public opinion and discrediting revolutionary views, and the rascally workman Gorju, who poses as a champion of the people. The sketch of Touache's children, two foundlings whom Bouvard and Pecuchet vainly attempt to educate, is a vivid bit of realism.
While it would be a mistake to describe this﻿xii
introduction
novel as Flaubert's greatest work, it cannot be denied that it possesses an absorbing interest for all who desire to view the century which is now about to close, from the critical standpoint of true philosophy There is a certain pathos in the fact that the author of Salammbo and of la Tenta-tion de S. Antoine should have died while writing Bouvard et Pecuchet. In his notes, sketching out the final part of the work, the futility of the two friends' efforts, is thus summarised :
" A insi tout leur a craque dans la main."
One would imagine that this great writer, this supreme artist, had bid adieu ta the world with a melancholy smile. He felt the sordidness and stupidity of life too keenly. In Bouvard et Pecuchet he gave expression to this feeling under the form of a narrative. It is impossible to read such a work, written under such circumstances, without emotion. It is a book which, fragmentary as it is, is sure of immortality. In an English translation it perhaps loses some of the spontaneity of the original; but it is not improbable that even in a version which, however faithful, cannot reproduce all the charms of style which are to be found in Flaubert's inimitable French, the novel may yet become as widely read as Don Quixote or The Arabian Nights.
D. F. Hannigan.﻿CONTENTS
	page
Introduction	ix.
Chapter I.	1
II.	29
HI.	82
IV.	140
V.	187
VI.	218
VII.	261
VIII.	277
IX.	344
X.	400
Extract from a plan found amongst Gustave Flaubert's papers indicating the conclusion of the work .	452﻿﻿LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
The latter easily traced " Pecuchet " in the cap oi the
individual with the frock-coat .	Frontispiece
Illustrated Title Page
They cast around them a glance of satisfaction .	27
They looked at their tongues.	104
"Don't be afraid. It is I " .	151
" What is your hand doing there ?"	198
" No, my little angel. Don't be afraid "	273
P6cuchet was standing on one of the chairs, with a rope
in his hand .	.	. 341
Imagine that this armchair is the sun .	413﻿﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
i
S there were thirty-three degrees of heat the Boulevard Bourdon was absolutely deserted.
Farther down, the Canal St. Martin, confined by two locks, showed in a straight "Ji^f line its water black as ink. In the middle of it there was a boat, filled with timber, and on the bank there were two rows of casks.
Beyond the canal, between the houses which separated the timber-yards, the great pure sky was cut up into plates of ultramarine; and under the reverberating light of the sun, the white fa?ades, the slate roofs, and the granite wharves glowed dazzlingly. In the distance arose a confused noise in the warm atmosphere; and the idleness of Sunday, as well as the melancholy engendered by the summer heat, seemed to shed around a universal languor.
Two men made their appearance.
One came from the direction of the Bastille; the other from that of the Jardin des Plantes. The taller
﻿2
BOUVARD AND
of the pair, arrayed in linen cloth, walked with his hat back, his vest unbuttoned, and his necktie in his hand. The smaller, whose form was covered with a maroon frock-coat, wore a cap with a pointed peak.
As soon as they reached the middle of the boulevard they sat down, at the same moment, on the same seat.
In order to wipe their foreheads they took off their headgear, each placing his beside himself; and the little man saw " Bouvard " written in his neighbour's hat, while the latter easily traced " Pecuchet" in the cap of the individual who wore the frock-coat.
" Look here! " he said; "we have both had the same idea—to write our names in our head-coverings ! "
" Yes, faith, for they might carry off mine from my desk."
" 'Tis the same way with me. I am an employe."
Then they gazed at one another. Bouvard's agreeable visage quite charmed Pecuchet.
His blue eyes, always half-closed, smiled in his fresh-coloured face. His trousers with big flaps, which creased at the end over beaver shoes, took the shape of his stomach, and made his shirt bulge out at the waist; and his fair hair, which of its own accord grew in tiny curls, gave him a somewhat childish look.
He kept whistling continuously with the ends of his lips.﻿p£cuchet
3
Bouvard was struck by the serious air of Pecuchet. One would have thought that he wore a wig, so flat and black were the locks which adorned his high skull. His face seemed entirely in profile, on account of his nose, which descended very low. His legs, confined in tight wrappings of lasting, were entirely out of proportion with the length of his bust. His voice was loud and hollow. This exclamation escaped him : " How pleasant it would be in the country! " But, according to Bouvard, the suburbs were unendurable on account of the noise of the public-houses outside the city. Pecuchet was of the same opinion. Nevertheless, he was beginning to feel tired of the capital, and so was Bouvard.
And their eyes wandered over heaps of stones for building, over the hideous water in which a truss of straw was floating, over a factory chimney rising towards the horizon. Sewers sent forth their poisonous exhalations. They turned to the opposite side; and they had in front of them the walls of the Public Granary.
Decidedly (and Pecuchet was surprised at the fact) it was still warmer in the street than in his own house. Bouvard persuaded him to put down his overcoat. As for him, he laughed at what people might say about him.
Suddenly, a drunken man staggered along the footpath; and the pair began a political discussion on the subject of working-men. Their opinions
i—2﻿4
BOUVARD AND
were similar, though perhaps Bouvard was rather more liberal in his views.
A noise of wheels sounded on the pavement amid a whirlpool of dust. It turned out to be three hired carriages which were going towards Bercy, carrying a bride with her bouquet, citizens in white neckties, ladies with their petticoats huddled up so as almost to touch their armpits, two or three little girls, and a student.
The sight of this wedding-party led Bouvard and Pecuchet to talk about women, whom they declared to be frivolous, waspish, obstinate. In spite of this, they were often better than men; but at other times they were worse. In short, it was better to live without them. For his part, Pecuchet was a bachelor.
"As for me, I'm a widower," said Bouvard, "and I have no children."
" Perhaps yo.u are lucky there. But, in the long run, solitude is very sad."
Then, on the edge of the wharf, appeared a girl of the town with a soldier,—sallow, with black hair, and marked with smallpox. She leaned on the soldier's arm, dragging her shoes after her, and swaying on her hips.
When she was a short distance from them, Bouvard indulged in an obscene reflection. Pecuchet became very red in the face, and, no doubt to avoid answering, gave him a look to indicate the fact that a priest was coming in their direction.﻿PECUCHET
5
The ecclesiastic slowly descended the avenue, along which lean elm trees were placed as landmarks, and Bouvard, when he no longer saw the priest's three - cornered head - piece, expressed his relief; for he hated Jesuits. Pecuchet, without absolving them from blame, exhibited some respect for religion.
Meanwhile, the twilight was falling, and the window-blinds in front of them were raised. The passers-by became more numerous. Seven o'clock struck.
Their words rushed on in an inexhaustible stream; remarks succeeding to anecdotes, philosophic views to individual considerations. They disparaged the management of the bridges and causeways, the tobacco administration, the theatres, our marine, and the entire human race, like people who had undergone great mortifications. In listening to one another each of them found again some idea which had long since slipped out of his mind; and though they had passed the age of simple emotions, they experienced a new pleasure, a kind of expansion, the tender charm associated with their first appearance on life's stage.
Twenty times they had risen and sat down again, and had proceeded along the boulevard from the upper to the lower lock, each time intending to take their departure, but not having the strength to do so, held back by a kind of fascination.
However, they came to parting at last, and they﻿6
BOUVARD AND
had clasped one another's hands, when Bouvard said all of a sudden :
" Faith! what do you say to our dining together ? "
" I had the very same idea in my own head," returned Pecuchet, " but I hadn't the courage to propose it to you."
And he allowed himself to be led towards a little restaurant facing the Hotel de Ville, where they would be comfortable.
Bouvard called for the menu. Pecuchet was afraid of spices, as they might inflame his blood. This led to a medical discussion. Then they glorified the utility of science: how many things could be learned, how many researches one could make, if one had only time! Alas! earning one's bread took up all one's time; and they raised their arms in astonishment, and were near embracing one another over the table on discovering that they were both copyists, Bouvard in a commercial establishment, and Pecuchet in the Admiralty, which did not, however, prevent him from devoting a few spare moments each evening to study. He had noted faults in M. Thiers's work, and he spoke with the utmost respect of a certain professor named Dumouchel.
Bouvard had the advantage of him in other ways. His hair watch-chain, and his manner of whipping-up the mustard-sauce, revealed the greybeard, full of experience; and he ate with the corners of his napkin under his armpits, giving﻿PECUCHET
7
utterance to things which made Pecuchet laugh. It was a peculiar laugh, one very low note, always the same, emitted at long intervals. Bouvard's laugh was explosive, sonorous, uncovering his teeth, shaking his shoulders, and making the customers at the door turn round to stare at him.
When they had dined they went to take coffee in another establishment. Pecuchet, on contemplating the gas-burners, groaned over the spreading torrent of luxury; then, with an imperious movement, he flung aside the newspapers. Bouvard was more indulgent on this point. He liked all authors indiscriminately, having in his youth been disposed to go on the stage.
He had a fancy for trying balancing feats with a billiard-cue and two ivory balls, such as Barberou, one of his friends, had performed. They invariably fell, and, rolling along the floor between people's legs, got lost in some distant corner. The waiter, who had to rise up every time to search for them on all-fours under the benches, ended by making complaints. Pecuchet picked a quarrel with him; the coffee-house keeper came on the scene, but Pecuchet would listen to no excuses, and even cavilled over the amount consumed.
He then proposed to finish the evening quietly at his own abode, which was quite near, in the Rue St. Martin. As soon as they had entered he put on a kind of cotton night-gown, and did the honours of his apartment.
A deal desk, placed exactly in the centre of the﻿8
BOUVARD AND
room, caused inconvenience by its sharp corners; and all around, on the boards, on the three chairs, on the old armchair, and in the corners, were scattered pell-mell a number of volumes of the " Roret Encyclopaedia," " The Magnetiser's Manual," a Fenelon, and other old books, with heaps of waste paper, two cocoa-nuts, various medals, a Turkish cap, and shells brought back from Havre by Du-mouchel. A layer of dust velveted the walls, which otherwise had been painted yellow. The shoe-brush was lying at the side of the bed, the coverings of which hung down. On the ceiling could be seen a big black stain, produced by the smoke of the lamp.
Bouvard, on account of the smell no doubt, asked permission to open the window.
" The papers will fly away ! " cried Pecuchet, who was more afraid of the currents of air.
However, he panted for breath in this little room, heated since morning by the slates of the roof.
Bouvard said to him : " If I were in your place I would remove my flannel."
" What ! " And Pecuchet cast down his head, frightened at the idea of no longer having his healthy flannel waistcoat.
" Let me take the business in hand," resumed Bouvard ; " the air from outside will refresh you."
At last Pecuchet put on his boots again, muttering, " Upon my honour, you are bewitching me." And, notwithstanding the distance, he accompanied Bouvard as far as the latter's house at the corner of﻿PECUCHET
9
the Rue de Bethune, opposite the Pont de la Tour-nelle.
Bouvard's room, the floor of which was well waxed, and which had curtains of cotton cambric and mahogany furniture, had the advantage of a balcony overlooking the river. The two principal ornaments were a liqueur-frame in the middle of the chest of drawers, and, in a row beside the glass, daguerreotypes representing his friends. An oil painting occupied the alcove.
" My uncle ! " said Bouvard. And the taper which he held in his hand shed its light on the portrait of a gentleman.
Red whiskers enlarged his visage, which was surmounted by a forelock curling at its ends. His huge necktie, with the triple collar of his shirt, and his velvet waistcoat and black coat, cramped him up. You would have imagined there were diamonds on his shirt-frill. His eyes seemed fastened to his cheek-bones, and he smiled with a cunning little air.
Pecuchet could not keep from saying, " One would rather take him for your father ! "
" He is my godfather," replied Bouvard carelessly, adding that his baptismal name was Francis-Deny s-Bartholemee.
Pecuchet's baptismal name was Juste-Romain-Cyrille, and their ages were identical—forty-seven years. This coincidence caused them satisfaction, but surprised them, each having thought the other much older. They next vented their admiration for﻿IO
BOUVARD AND
Providence, whose combinations are sometimes marvellous.
" For, in fact," if we had not gone out a while ago to take a walk we might have died before knowing one another."
And, having given each other their employers' addresses, they wished each other "good night."
" Don't go to see the women! " cried Bouvard on the stairs.
Pecuchet descended the steps without answering this coarse jest.
Next day, in the space in front of the establishment of MM. Descambos Brothers, manufacturers of Alsatian tissues, 92, Rue Hautefeuille, a voice called out:
" Bouvard ! M. Bouvard ! " The latter glanced through the window-panes and recognised Pecuchet, who articulated more loudly: " I am not ill! I have remained away ! " " Why, though ? "
" This ! " said Pecuchet, pointing at his breast. All the talk of the day before, together with the temperature of the apartment and the labours of digestion, had prevented him from sleeping, so much so that, unable to stand it any longer, he had flung off his flannel waistcoat. In the morning he recalled his action, which fortunately had no serious consequences, and he came to inform Bouvard about it, showing him in this way that he had placed him very high in his esteem.﻿PECUCHET
II
He was a small shopkeeper's son, and had no recollection of his mother, who died while he was very young. At fifteen he- had been taken away from a boarding-school to be sent into the employment of a process-server. The gendarmes invaded his employer's residence one day, and that worthy was sent off to the galleys—a stern history which still caused him a thrill of terror. Then he had attempted many callings—apothecary's apprentice, usher, book-keeper in a packet-boat on the Upper Seine. At length, a head of a department in the Admiralty, smitten by his handwriting, had employed him as a copying-clerk; but the consciousness of a defective education, with the intellectual needs engendered by it, irritated his temper, and so he lived altogether alone, without relatives, without a mistress. His only distraction was to go out on Sunday to inspect public works.
The earliest recollections of Bouvard carried him back across the banks of the Loire into a farmyard. A man who was his uncle had brought him to Paris to teach him commerce. At his majority, he got a few thousand francs. Then he took a wife, and opened a confectioner's shop. Six months later his wife disappeared, carrying off the cash-box. Friends, good-cheer, and, above all, idleness, had speedily accomplished his ruin. But he was inspired by the notion of utilising his beautiful hand, and for the past twelve years he had clung to the same post in the establishment of MM. Descambos Brothers,﻿12
BOUVARD AND
manufacturers of tissues, 92, Rue Hautefeuille. As for his uncle, who formerly had sent him as a memento the celebrated portrait, Bouvard did not even know his residence, and expected nothing more from him. Fifteen hundred francs a year and his salary as copying-clerk enabled him every evening to take a nap at a coffee-house. Thus their meeting had the importance of an adventure. They were at once drawn together by secret fibres. Besides, how can we explain sympathies ? Why does a certain peculiarity, a certain imperfection, indifferent or hateful in one person, prove a fascination in another ? That which we call the thunderbolt is true as regards all the passions.
Before the month was over they " thou'd" and "thee'd" one another.
Frequently they came to see one another at their respective offices. As soon as one made his appearance, the other shut up his writing-desk, and they went off together into the streets. Bouvard walked with long strides, whilst Pecuchet, taking innumerable steps, with his frock-coat flapping at his heels, seemed to slip along on rollers. In the same way, their peculiar tastes were in harmony. Bouvard smoked his pipe, loved cheese, regularly took his half-glass of brandy. Pecuchet snuffed, at dessert ate only preserves, and soaked a piece of sugar in his coffee. One was self-confident, flighty, generous ; the other prudent, thoughtful, and thrifty.﻿PECUCHET
13
In order to please him, Bouvard desired to introduce Pecuchet to Barberou. He was an ex-commercial traveller, and now a purse-maker — a good fellow, a patriot, a ladies' man, and one who affected the language of the faubourgs. Pecuchet did not care for him, and he brought Bouvard to the residence of Dumouchel. This author (l£r he had published a little work on mnemonics)' gave lessons in literature at a young ladies' boarding-school, and had orthodox opinions and a grave deportment. He bored Bouvard.
Neither of the two friends concealed his opinion from the other. Each recognised the correctness of the other's view. They altered their habits, and, quitting their humdrum lodgings, they ended by dining together every day.
They made observations on the plays at the theatre, on the government, the dearness of living, and the frauds of commerce. From time to time, the history of Collier or the trial of Fualdes turned up in their conversations; and, then, they sought for the causes of the Revolution.
They lounged along by the old curiosity shops. They visited the School of Arts and Crafts, St. Denis, the Gobelins, the Invalides, and all the public collections.
When they were asked for their passports, they made pretence of having lost them, passing themselves off as two strangers, two Englishmen.
In the galleries of the Museum, they viewed﻿H
BOUVARD AND
the stuffed quadrupeds with amazement, the butterflies with delight, and the metals with indifference ; the fossils made them dream ; the conchological specimens bored them. They examined the hothouses through the glass, and groaned at the thought that all these leaves distilled poisons. What they admired about the cedar was that it had been brought over in a hat.
At the Louvre they tried to get enthusiastic about Raphael. At the great library they wanted to know the exact number of volumes.
On one occasion they attended at a lecture on Arabic at the College of France, and the professor was astonished to see these two unknown persons attempting to take notes. Thanks to Barberou, they penetrated into the green-room of a little theatre. Dumouchel got them tickets for a sitting at the Academy. They inquired about discoveries, read the prospectuses, and this curiosity developed their intelligence. At the end of a horizon, growing every day more remote, they perceived things at the same time confused and marvellous.
When they admired an old piece of furniture they regretted that they had not lived at the period when it was used, though they were absolutely ignorant of what period it was. In accordance with certain names, they imagined countries only the more beautiful in proportion to their utter lack of definite information about them. The works of which the titles were to them unintelligible,﻿PECUCHET
15
appeared to their minds to contain some mysterious knowledge.
And the more ideas they had, the more they suffered. When a mail-coach crossed them in the street, they felt the need of going off with it. The Quay of Flowers made them sigh for the country.
One Sunday they started for a walking tour early in the morning, and, passing through Meudon, Belle-vue, Suresnes, and Auteuil, they wandered about all day amongst the vineyards, tore up wild poppies by the sides of fields, slept on the grass, drank milk, ate under the acacias in the gardens of country inns, and got home very late—dusty, worn-out, and enchanted.
They often renewed these walks. They felt so sad next day that they ended by depriving themselves of them.
The monotony of the desk became odious to them. Always the eraser and the sandarac, the same inkstand, the same pens, and the same companions. Looking on the latter as stupid fellows, they talked to them less and less. This cost them some annoyances. They came after the regular hour every day, and received reprimands.
Formerly they had been almost happy, but their occupation humiliated them since they had begun to set a higher value on themselves,, and their disgust increased while they were mutually glorifying and spoiling one another. Pecuchet contracted Bouvard's bluntness, and Bouvard assumed a little of Pecuchet's moroseness.﻿i6
BOUVARD AND
" I have a mind to become a mountebank in the streets ! " said one to the other.
"Aswell to be a rag-picker!" exclaimed his friend.
What an abominable situation ! And no way out of it. Not even the hope of it!
One afternoon (it was the 20th of January, 1839) Bouvard, while at his desk, received a letter left by the postman.
He lifted up both hands; then his head slowly fell back, and he sank on the ground in a swoon.
The clerks rushed forward; they took off his necktie; they sent for a physician. He re-opened his eyes; then, in answer to the questions they put to him :
" Ah! The fact is- the fact is- A little
air will relieve me. No; let me alone. Kindly give me leave to go out."
And, in spite of his corpulence, he rushed, all breathless, to the Admiralty office, and asked for Pecuchet.
Pecuchet appeared.
"My uncle is dead ! I am his heir ! "
" It isn't possible ! "
Bouvard showed him the following lines: Office of Maitre Tardivel, Notary.
Savigny-en-Septaine, 14th January, 1839.
Sir,—I beg of you to call at my office in order to take notice there of the will of your natural father, M. Frangois-Denys-Bartholomee Bouvard, ex-merchant in the town of Nantes, who died in this parish on the 10th of the present month. This will contains a very important disposition in your favour.	Tardivel, Notary.﻿PECUCHET
17
Pecuchet was obliged to sit down on a boundary-stone in the courtyard outside the office.
Then he returned the paper, saying slowly:
" Provided that this is not—some practical joke."
" You think it is a farce! " replied Bouvard, in a stifled voice like the rattling in the throat of a dying man.
But the post-mark, the name of the notary's office in printed characters, the notary's own signature, all proved the genuineness of the news; and they regarded one another with a trembling at the corners of their mouths and tears in their staring eyes.
They wanted space to breathe freely. They went to the Arc de Triomphe, came back by the water's edge, and passed beyond Notre Dame. Bouvard was very flushed. He gave Pecuchet blows with his fist in the back, and for five minutes talked utter nonsense.
They chuckled in spite of themselves. This inheritance, surely, ought to mount up-?
" Ah! that would be too much of a good thing. Let's talk no more about it."
They did talk again about it. There was nothing to prevent them from immediately demanding explanations. Bouvard wrote to the notary with that view.
The notary sent a copy of the will, which ended thus :
" Consequently, I give to Frangois-Denys-Bartholemee Bouvard, my recognised natural son, the portion of my property disposable by law."
2﻿i8
BOUVARD AND
The old codger had got this son in his youthful days, but he had carefully kept it dark, making him pass for a nephew; and the " nephew" had always called him " my uncle," though he had his own idea on the matter. When he was about forty, M. Bouvard got married; then he was left a widower. His two legitimate sons having gone against his wishes, remorse took possession of him for the desertion of his other child during a long period of years. He would have even sent for the lad but for the influence of his female cook. She left him, thanks to the manoeuvres of the family, and in his isolation, when death drew nigh, he wished to repair the wrongs he had done by bequeathing to the fruit of his early love all that he could of his fortune. It ran up to half a million francs, thus giving the copying-clerk two hundred and fifty thousand francs. The eldest of the brothers, M. Etienne, had announced that he would respect the will.
Bouvard fell into a kind of stupefied condition. He kept repeating in a low tone, smiling with the peaceful smile of drunkards : " An income of fifteen thousand livres!" — and Pecuchet, whose head, however, was stronger, was not able to get over it.
They were rudely shaken by a letter from Tar-divel. The other son, M. Alexandre, declared his intention to have the entire matter decided by law, and even to question the legacy, if he could, requiring, first of all, to have everything sealed, and﻿PECUCHET
19
to have an inventory taken and a sequestrator appointed, etc. Bouvard got a bilious attack in consequence. Scarcely had he recovered when he started for Savigny, from which place he returned without having brought the matter nearer to a settlement, and he could only grumble about having gone to the expense of a journey for nothing. Then followed sleepless nights, alternations of rage and hope, of exaltation and despondency. Finally, after the lapse of six months, his lordship Alexandre was appeased, and Bouvard entered into possession of his inheritance.
His first exclamation was: " We will retire into the country! " And this phrase, which bound up his friend with his good fortune, Pecuchet had found quite natural. For the union of these two men was absolute and profound. But, as he did not want to live at Bouvard's expense, he would not go before he got his retiring pension. Two years more; no matter! He remained inflexible, and the thing was decided.
In order to know where to settle down, they passed in review all the provinces. The north was fertile, but too cold; the south delightful, so far as the climate was concerned, but inconvenient having regard to the mosquitoes; and the middle portion of the country, in truth, had nothing about it to excite curiosity. Brittany would have suited them, were it not for the bigoted tendency of its inhabitants. As for the regions of the east, on account
2—2﻿20
BOUVARD AND
of the Germanic patois they could not dream of it. But there were other places. For instance, what about Forez, Bugey, and Rumois ? The maps said nothing about them. Besides, whether their house happened to be in one place or in another, the important thing was to have one. Already they saw themselves in their shirt-sleeves, at the edge of a plat-band, pruning rose trees, and digging, dressing, settling the ground, growing tulips in pots. They would awaken at the singing of the lark to follow the plough; they would go with baskets to gather apples, would look on at butter-making, the thrashing of corn, sheep-shearing, bee-culture, and would feel delight in the lowing of cows and in the scent of new-mown hay. No more writing! No more heads of departments! No more even quarters' rent to pay ! For they had a dwelling-house of their own ! And they would eat the hens of their own poultry-yard, the vegetables of their own garden, and would dine without taking off their wooden shoes ! " We'll do whatever we like! We'll let our beards grow ! "
They would purchase horticultural implements, then a heap of things "that might perhaps be useful," such as a tool-chest (there was always need of one in a house), next, scales, a land surveyor's chain, a bathing-tub in case they got ill, a thermometer, and even a barometer, "on the Gay-Lussac system," for physical experiences, if they took a fancy that way. It Avould not be a bad thing﻿PECUCHET
21
either (for a person cannot always be working out of doors) to have some good literary works; and they looked out for them, very embarrassed sometimes to know if such a book was really " a library book."
Bouvard settled the question. " Oh! we won't want a library. Besides, I have my own."
They prepared their plans beforehand. Bouvard would bring his furniture, Pecuchet his big black table; they would turn the curtains to account; and, with a few kitchen utensils, this would be quite sufficient. They swore to keep silent about all this, but their faces spoke volumes. So their colleagues thought them funny. Bouvard, who wrote spread over his desk, with his elbows out, in order the better to round his letters, gave vent to a kind of whistle while half-closing his heavy eyelids with a waggish air. Pecuchet, squatted on a big straw foot-stool, was always carefully forming the pothooks of his large handwriting, but all the while swelling his nostrils and pressing his lips together, as if he were afraid of letting his secret slip.
After eighteen months of inquiries, they had discovered nothing. They made journeys in all the outskirts of Paris, both from Amiens to Evreux, and from Fontainebleau to Havre. They wanted a country place which would be a thorough country place, without exactly insisting on a picturesque site; but a limited horizon saddened them.
They fled from the vicinity of habitations, and only redoubled their solitude.﻿22
BOUVARD AND
Sometimes they made up their minds; then, fearing they would repent later on, they changed their opinion, the place having appeared unhealthy, or exposed to the sea-breeze, or too close to a factory, or difficult of access.
Barberou came to their rescue. He knew what their dream was, and one fine day he called on them to let them know that he had been told about an estate at Chavignolles, between Caen and Falaise. This comprised a farm of thirty-eight hectares,1 with a kind of chateau, and a garden in a very productive state.
They proceeded to Calvados, and were quite enraptured. For the farm, together with the house (one would not be sold without the other) only a hundred and forty-three thousand francs were asked. Bouvard did not want to give more than a hundred and twenty thousand.
Pecuchet combated his obstinacy, begged of him to give way, and finally declared that he would make up the surplus himself. This was his entire fortune, coming from his mother's patrimony and his own savings. Never had he breathed a word, reserving this capital for a great occasion.
The entire amount was paid up about the end of 1840, six months before his retirement.
Bouvard was no longer a copying-clerk. At first he had continued his functions through distrust of the future; but he had resigned once he was 1 Roughly speaking, about 93 acres.—Translator.﻿PECUCHET
23
certain of his inheritance. However, he willingly went back to MM. Descambos; and the night before his departure he stood drinks to all the clerks.
Pecuchet, on the contrary, was morose towards his colleagues, and went off, on the last day, roughly clapping the door behind him.
He had to look after the packing, to do a heap of commissions, then to make purchases, and to take leave of Dumouchel!
The professor proposed to him an epistolary interchange between them, of which he would make use to keep Pecuchet well up in literature; and, after fresh felicitations, wished him good health.
Barberou exhibited more sensibility in taking leave of Bouvard. He expressly gave up a domino-party, promised to go to see him " over there," ordered two aniseed cordials, and embraced him.
Bouvard, when he got home, inhaled over the balcony a big breath of air, saying to himself, "At last! " The lights along the quays quivered in the water; the rolling of omnibuses in the distance gradually ceased. He recalled happy days spent in this great city, supper-parties at restaurants, evenings at the theatre, gossips with his portress, all his habitual associations; and he experienced a sinking of the heart, a sadness which he dared not acknowledge even to himself.
Pecuchet was walking in his room up to two o'clock in the morning. He would come back there﻿24
BOUVARD AND
no more: so much the better! And yet, in order to leave behind something of himself, he printed his name on the plaster over the chimney-piece.
The largest portion of the baggage was gone since the night before. The garden implements, the bedsteads, the mattresses, the tables, the chairs, a cooking apparatus, and three casks of Burgundy would go by the Seine, as far as Havre, and would be despatched thence to Caen, where Bouvard, who would wait for them, would have them brought on to Chavignolles.
But his father's portrait, the armchairs, the liqueur-case, the old books, the time-piece, all the precious objects were put into a furniture waggon, which would proceed through Nonancourt, Verneuil, and Falaise. Pecuchet was to accompany it.
He installed himself beside the conductor, upon a seat, and wrapped up in his oldest frock-coat, with a comforter, mittens, and his office foot-warmer, on Sunday, the 20th of March, at daybreak, he set forth from the capital.
The movement and the novelty of the journey occupied his attention during the first few hours. Then the horses slackened their pace, which led to disputes between the conductor and the driver. They selected execrable inns, and, though they were accountable for everything, Pecuchet, through excess of prudence, slept in the same lodgings.
Next day they started again, at dawn, and the road, always the same, stretched out, uphill, to the﻿PECUCHET
25
verge of the horizon. Yards of stones came after each other; the ditches were full of water; the country showed itself in wide tracts of green, monotonous and cold; clouds scudded through the sky. From time to time there was a fall of rain. On the third day squalls arose. The awning of the waggon, badly fastened on, went clapping with the wind, like the sails of a ship. Pecuchet lowered his face under his cap, and every time he opened his snuff-box it was necessary for him, in order to protect his eyes, to turn round completely.
During the joltings he heard all his baggage swinging behind him, and shouted out a lot of directions. Seeing that they were no use, he changed his tactics. He assumed an air of good-fellowship, and made a display of civilities ; in the troublesome ascents he assisted the men in pushing on the wheels : he even went so far as to pay for the coffee and brandy after the meals. From that time they went on more slowly; so much so that, in the neighbourhood of Gauburge, the axletree broke, and the waggon remained tilted over. Pecuchet immediately went to inspect the inside of it: the sets of porcelain lay in bits. He raised his arms, while he gnashed his teeth, and cursed these two idiots ; and the following day was lost owing to the waggon -driver getting tipsy: but he had not the energy to complain, the cup of bitterness being full.
Bouvard had only quitted Paris on the third﻿26
BOUVARD AND
day, as he had to dine once more with Barberou. He arrived in the coach-yard at the last moment; then he woke up before the cathedral of Rouen: he had mistaken the diligence.
In the evening, all the places for Caen were booked. Not knowing what to do, he went to the Theatre of Arts, and he smiled at his neighbours, telling them he had retired from business, and had lately purchased an estate in the neighbourhood. When he started on Friday for Caen, his packages were not there. He received them on Sunday, and despatched them in a cart, having given notice to the farmer who was working the land that he would follow in the course of a few hours.
At Falaise, on the ninth day of his journey, Pecuchet took a fresh horse, and even till sunset they kept steadily on. Beyond Bretteville, having left the high-road, he got off into a cross-road, fancying that every moment he could see the gable-ends of Chavignolles. However, the ruts hid them from view ; they vanished, and then the party found themselves in the midst of ploughed fields. The night was falling. What was to become of them ? At last Pecuchet left the waggon behind, and, splashing in the mire, advanced in front of it to reconnoitre. When he drew near farmhouses, the dogs barked. He called out as loudly as ever he could, asking what was the right road. There was no answer. He was afraid, and got back to the open ground. Suddenly two lanterns flashed. He﻿﻿However, they cast around them a glance of satisfaction, while eating on the little table, on which a candle was burning.﻿PECUCHET
2 7
perceived a cabriolet, and rushed forward to meet it. Bouvard was inside.
But where could the furniture waggon be ? For an hour they called out to it through the darkness. At length it was found, and they arrived at Chavi-gnolles.
A great fire of brushwood and pine-apples was blazing in the dining-room. Two covers were placed there. The furniture, which had come by the cart, was piled up near the vestibule. Nothing was wanting. They sat down to table.
There had been prepared for them onion soup, a chicken, bacon, and hard-boiled eggs. The old woman who cooked came from time to time to inquire about their tastes. They replied, "Oh! very good, very good ! " and the big loaf, hard to cut, the cream, the nuts, all delighted them. There were holes in the flooring, and the damp was oozing through the walls. However, they cast around them a glance of satisfaction, while eating on the little table on which a candle was burning. Their faces were reddened by the strong air. They stretched out their stomachs ; they leaned on the backs of their chairs, which made a cracking sound in consequence, and they kept repeating: " Here we are in the place, then! What happiness! It seems to me that it is a dream ! "
Although it was midnight, Pecuchet conceived the idea of taking a turn round the garden. Bouvard made no objection. They took up the candle, and,﻿28
BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
screening it with an old newspaper, walked along the plat-bands. They found pleasure in mentioning aloud the names of the vegetables.
" Look here—carrots ! Ah !—cabbages ! "
Next, they inspected the espaliers. Pecuchet tried to discover the buds. Sometimes a spider would scamper suddenly over the wall, and the two shadows of their bodies appeared magnified, repeating their gestures. The ends of the grass let the dew trickle out. The night was perfectly black, and everything remained motionless in a profound silence, an infinite sweetness. In the distance a cock was crowing.
Their two rooms had between them a little door, which was hidden by the papering of the wall. By knocking a chest of drawers up against it, nails were shaken out; and they found the place gaping open. This was a surprise.
When they had undressed and got into bed, they kept babbling for some time. Then they went asleep—Bouvard on his back, with his mouth open, his head bare ; Pecuchet on his right side, his knees in his stomach, his head muffled in a cotton nightcap ; and the pair of them snored under the moonlight which made its way in through the windows.﻿II
OW happy they felt when they awoke next morning ! Bouvard smoked a pipe, and Pecuchet took a pinch of snuff, which they declared to be the best they had ever had in their whole lives. Then they went to the window to observe the landscape.
In front of them lay the fields, with a barn and the church-bell at the right, and a screen of poplars at the left.
Two principal walks, forming a cross, divided the garden into four parts. The vegetables were contained in the plat-bands, where, at different spots, arose dwarf cypresses and trees cut in distaff fashion. On one side, an arbour just touched an artificial hillock; while, on the other, the espaliers were supported against a wall; and at the end, a railed opening gave a glimpse of the country outside. Beyond the wall there was an orchard, and, next to a hedge of elm trees, a thicket; and behind the railed opening there was a narrow road.
They were gazing on this spectacle together, when a man, with hair turning grey, and wearing a black overcoat, appeared walking along the pathway, striking with his cane all the bars of the railed﻿3°
BOUVARD AND
fence. The old servant informed them that this was M. Vaucorbeil, a doctor of some reputation in the district. She mentioned that the other people of note were the Comte de Faverges, formerly a deputy, and an extensive owner of land and cattle ; M. Foureau, who sold wood, plaster, all sorts of things ; M. Marescot, the notary; the Abbe Jeufroy; and the widow Bordin, who lived on her private income. The old woman added that, as for herself, they called her Germaine, on account of the late Germain, her husband. She used to go out as a charwoman, but would be very glad to enter into the gentlemen's service. They accepted her offer, and then went out to take a look at their farm, which was situated over a thousand yards away.
When they entered the farmyard, Maitre Gouy, the farmer, was shouting at a servant-boy, while his wife, on a stool, kept pressed between her legs a turkey-hen, which she was stuffing with balls of flour.
The man had a low forehead, a thin nose, a downward look, and broad shoulders. The woman was very fair-haired, with her cheek-bones speckled with bran, and that air of simplicity which may be seen in the faces of peasants on the windows of churches.
In the kitchen, bundles of hemp hung from the ceiling. Three old guns stood in a row over the upper part of the chimneypiece. A dresser loaded with flowered crockery occupied the space in the﻿PECUCHET
31
middle of the wall; and the window-panes with their green bottle-glass threw over the tin and copper utensils a sickly lustre.
The two Parisians wished to inspect the property, which they had seen only once — and that a mere passing glance. Maitre Gouy and his wife escorted them, and then began a litany of complaints.
All the appointments, from the carthouse to the boilery, stood in need of repair. It would be necessary to erect an additional store for the cheese, to put fresh iron on the railings, to raise the boundaries, to deepen the ponds, and to plant anew a considerable number of apple trees in the three enclosures.
Then they went to look at the lands under cultivation. Maitre Gouy ran them down, saying that they ate up too much manure ; cartage was expensive ; it was impossible to get rid of stones; and the bad grass poisoned the meadows. This depreciation of his land lessened the pleasure experienced by Bouvard in walking over it.
They came back by the hollow path under an avenue of beech trees. On this side the house revealed its front and its courtyard. It was painted white, with a coating of yellow. The carthouse and the storehouse, the bakehouse and the woodshed, made, by means of a return, two lower wings. The kitchen communicated with a little hall. Next came the vestibule, a second hall larger than the other, and the drawing-room. The four rooms on﻿32
BOUVARD AND
the first floor opened on the corridor facing the courtyard. Pecuchet selected one of them for his collections. The last was to be the library; and, on opening some of the presses, they found a few ancient volumes, but they had no fancy for reading the titles of them. The most urgent matter was the garden.
Bouvard, while passing close to the row of elm trees, discovered under their branches a plaster figure of a woman. With two fingers she held wide her petticoat, with her knees bent and her head over her shoulder, as if she were afraid of being surprised.
" I beg your pardon ! Don't inconvenience yourself ! "—and this pleasantry amused them so much that they kept repeating it twenty times a day for three months.
Meanwhile, the people of Chavignolles were anxious to make their acquaintance. Persons came to look at them through the railed fence. They stopped up the openings with boards. This thwarted the inhabitants. To protect himself from the sun Bouvard wore on his head a handkerchief, fastened so as to look like a turban. Pecuchet wore his cap, and he had a big apron with a pocket in front, in which a pair of pruning-shears, his silk handkerchief, and his snuff-box jostled against each other. Bare-armed, side by side, they dug, weeded, and pruned, imposing tasks on one another, and eating their meals as quick as ever they could,﻿PECUCHET
33
taking care, however, to drink their coffee on the hillock, in order to enjoy the view.
If they happened to come across a snail, they pounced on it and crushed it, making grimaces with the corners of their mouths, as if they were cracking nuts. They never went out without their grafting implements, and they used to cut the worms in two with such force that the iron of the implement would sink three inches deep. To get rid of caterpillars, they struck the trees furiously with switches.
Bouvard planted a peony in the middle of the grass plot, and tomatoes so that they would hang down like chandeliers under the arch of the arbour.
Pdcuchet had a large pit dug in front of the kitchen, and divided it into three parts, where he could manufacture composts which would grow a heap of things, whose detritus would again bring other crops, providing in this way other manures to a limitless extent; and he fell into reveries on the edge of the pit, seeing in the future mountains of fruits, floods of flowers, and avalanches of vegetables. But the horse-dung, so necessary for the beds, was not to be had, inasmuch as the farmers did not sell it, and the innkeepers refused to supply it. At last, after many searches, in spite of the entreaties of Bouvard, and flinging aside all shamefacedness, he made up his mind to "go for the dung himself."
It was in the midst of this occupation that Madame Bordin accosted him one day on the high-
3﻿34
BOUVARD AND
road. When she had complimented him, she inquired about his friend. This woman's black eyes, very small and very brilliant, her high complexion, and her assurance (she even had a little moustache) intimidated Pecuchet. He replied curtly, and turned his back on her—an impoliteness of which Bouvard disapproved.
Then the bad weather came on, with frost and snow. They installed themselves in the kitchen, and went in for trellis-work, or else kept going from one room to another, chatted by the chimney corner, or watched the rain coming down.
Since the middle of Lent they awaited the approach of spring, and each morning repeated: " Everything is starting out!" But the season was late, and they consoled their impatience by saying: " Everything is going to start out! "
At length they were able to gather the green peas. The asparagus gave a good crop; and the vine was promising.
Since they were able to work together at gardening, they must needs succeed at agriculture ; and they were seized with an ambition to cultivate the farm. With common sense and study of the subject they would get through it beyond a doubt.
But they should first see how others carried on operations, and so they drew up a letter in which they begged of M. de Fa verges to do them the honour of allowing them to visit the lands which he cultivated.﻿PECUCHET
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The count made an appointment immediately to meet them.
After an hour's walking, they reached the side of a hill overlooking the valley of the Orme. The river wound its way to the bottom of the valley. Blocks of red sandstone stood here and there, and in the distance larger masses of stone formed, as it were, a cliff overhanging fields of ripe corn. On the opposite hill the verdure was so abundant that it hid the house from view. Trees divided it into unequal squares, outlining themselves amid the grass by more sombre lines.
Suddenly the entire estate came into view. The tiled roofs showed where the farm stood. To the right rose the chateau with its white fa9ade, and beyond it was a wood. A lawn descended to the river, into which a row of plane trees cast their shadows.
The two friends entered a field of lucern, which people were spreading. Women wearing straw hats, with cotton handkerchiefs round their heads, and paper shades, were lifting with rakes the hay which lay on the ground, while at the end of the plain, near the stacks, bundles were being rapidly flung into a long cart, yoked to three horses.
The count advanced, followed by his manager. He was dressed in dimity; and his stiff figure and mutton-chop whiskers gave him at the same time the air of a magistrate and a dandy. Even when he was speaking, his features did not appear to move.
3—2﻿36
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As soon as they had exchanged some opening courtesies, he explained his system with regard to fodder : the swathes should be turned without scattering them; the ricks should be conical, and the bundles made immediately on the spot, and then piled together by tens. As for the English rake, the meadow was too uneven for such an implement.
A little girl, with her stockingless feet in old shoes, and showing her skin through the rents in her dress, was supplying the women with cider, which she poured out of a jug supported against her hip. The count asked where this child came from, but nobody could tell. The women who were making the hay had picked her up to wait on them during the harvesting. He shrugged his shoulders, and just as he was moving away from the spot, he gave vent to some complaints as to the immorality of our country districts.
Bouvard eulogised his lucern field.
It was fairly good, in spite of the ravages of the cuscute.1
The future agriculturists opened their eyes wide at the word " cuscute."
On account of the number of his cattle, he resorted to artificial meadowing; besides, it went well before the other crops—a thing that did not always happen in the case of fodder.
" This at least appears to me incontestable."
1 " Cuscute "—dodder.﻿PECUCHET
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" Oh ! incontestable," replied Bouvard and Pecu-chet in one breath. They were on the borders of a field which had been carefully thinned. A horse, which was being led by hand, was dragging along a large box, mounted on three wheels. Seven ploughshares below were opening in parallel lines small furrows, in which the grain fell through pipes descending to the ground.
" Here," said the count, " I sow turnips. The turnip is the basis of my quadrennial system of cultivation."
And he was proceeding to deliver a lecture on the drill-plough when a servant came to look for him, and told him that he was wanted at the chateau.
His manager took his place—a man with a forbidding countenance and obsequious manners.
He conducted " these gentlemen " to another field, where fourteen harvesters, with bare breasts and legs apart, were cutting down rye. The steels whistled in the chaff, which came pouring straight down. Each of them described in front of him a large semicircle, and, all in a line, they advanced at the same time. The two Parisians admired their arms, and felt smitten with an almost religious veneration for the opulence of the soil. Then they proceeded to inspect some of the ploughed lands. The twilight was falling, and the crows swooped down into the ridges.
As they proceeded they met a flock of sheep﻿38
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pasturing here and there, and they could hear their continual browsing. The shepherd, seated on the stump of a tree, was knitting a woollen stocking, with his dog beside him.
The manager assisted Bouvard and Pecuchet to jump over a wooden fence, and they passed close to two orchards, where cows were ruminating under the apple trees.
All the farm-buildings were contiguous and occupied the three sides of the yard. Work was carried on there mechanically by means of a turbine moved by a stream which had been turned aside for the purpose. Leathern bands stretched from one roof to the other, and in the midst of dung an iron pump performed its operations.
The manager drew their attention to little openings in the sheepfolds nearly on a level with the floor, and ingenious doors in the pigstyes which could shut of their own accord.
The barn was vaulted like a cathedral, with brick arches resting on stone walls.
In order to amuse the gentlemen, a servant-girl threw a handful of oats before the hens. The shaft of the press appeared to them enormously big. Next they went up to the pigeon-house. The dairy especially astonished them. By turning cocks in the corners, you could get enough water to flood the flagstones, and, as you entered, a sense of grateful coolness came upon you ks a surprise. Brown jars, ranged close to the barred opening in the wall, were﻿PECUCHET
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full to the brim of milk, while the cream was contained in earthen pans of less depth. Then came rolls of butter, like fragments of a column of copper, and froth overflowed from the tin pails which had just been placed on the ground.
But the gem of the farm was the ox-stall. It was divided into two sections by wooden bars standing upright their full length, one portion being reserved for the cattle, and the other for persons who attended on them. You could scarcely see there, as all the loopholes were closed up. The oxen were eating, with little chains attached to them, and their bodies exhaled a heat which was kept down by the low ceiling. But someone let in the light, and suddenly a thin stream of water flowed into the little channel which was beside the racks. Lowings were heard, and the horns of the cattle made a rattling noise like sticks. All the oxen thrust their muzzles between the bars, and proceeded to drink slowly.
The big teams made their way into the farmyard, and the foals began to neigh. On the ground floor two or three lanterns flashed and then disappeared. The workpeople were passing, dragging their wooden shoes over the pebbles, and the bell was ringing for supper.
The two visitors took their departure.
All they had seen delighted them, and their resolution was taken. After that evening, they took out of their library the four volumes of " La Maison﻿4°
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Rustique," went through Gasperin's course of lectures, and subscribed to an agricultural journal.
In order to be able to attend the fairs more conveniently they purchased a car, which Bouvard used to drive.
Dressed in blue blouses, with large-brimmed hats, gaiters up to their knees, and horse-dealers' cudgels in their hands, they prowled around cattle, asked questions of labourers, and did not fail to attend at all the agricultural gatherings.
Soon they wearied Maitre Gouy with their advice, and especially by their depreciation of his system of fallowing. But the farmer stuck to his routine. He asked to be allowed a quarter, putting forward as a reason the heavy falls of hail. As for the farm-dues, he never furnished any of them. His wife raised an outcry at even the most legitimate claims. At length Bouvard declared his intention not to renew the lease.
Thenceforth Maitre Gouy economised the manures, allowed weeds to grow up, ruined the soil; and he took himself off with a fierce air, which showed that he was meditating some scheme of revenge.
Bouvard had calculated that 20,000 francs, that is to say, more than four times the rent of the farm, would be enough to start with. His notary sent the amount from Paris.
The property which they had undertaken to cultivate comprised fifteen hectares1 of grounds and One hectare contains 2 acres 1 rood 38 perches.—Translator.﻿PECUCHET
41
meadows, twenty-three of arable land, and five of waste land, situated on a hillock covered with stones, and known by the name of " La Butte." 1
They procured all the indispensable requirements for the purpose: four horses, a dozen cows, six hogs, one hundred and sixty sheep, and for the household two carters, two women, a shepherd, and in addition a big dog.
In order to get cash at once, they sold their fodder. The price was paid to them directly, and the gold napoleon counted over a chest of oats appeared to them more glittering than any others, more rare and valuable.
In the month of November they brewed cider. It was Bouvard that whipped the horse, while Pecuchet on the trough shovelled off the strained apples.
They panted while pressing the screw, drew the juice off into the vat, looked after the bung-holes, with heavy wooden shoes on their feet; and in all this they found huge diversion.
Starting with the principle that you cannot have too much corn, they got rid of about half of their artificial meadows; and, as they had not rich pasturing, they made use of oil-cakes, which they put into the ground without pounding, with the result that the crop was a wretched one.
The following year they sowed the ground very
1 " The knoll.1﻿42
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thickly. Storms broke out, and the ears of corn were scattered.
Nevertheless, they set their hearts on the cheese, and undertook to clear away the stones from " La Butte." A hamper carried away the stones. The whole year, from morn to eve, in sunshine or rain, the everlasting hamper was seen, with the same man and the same horse, toiling up the hill, coming down, and going up again. Sometimes Bouvard walked in the rear, making a halt half-way up the hill to dry the sweat off his forehead.
As they had confidence in nobody, they treated the animals themselves, giving them purgatives and clysters.
Serious irregularities occurred in the household. The girl in the poultry-yard got into the family-way. Then they took married servants; but the place soon swarmed with children, cousins male and female, uncles, and sisters-in-law. A horde of people lived at their expense; and they resolved to sleep in the farm-house successively.
But when evening came they felt depressed, for the filthiness of the room was offensive to them ; and besides, Germaine, who brought in the meals, grumbled at every journey. They were preyed upon in all sorts of ways. The threshers in the barn stuffed corn into the pitchers out of which they drank. Pecuchet caught one of them in the act, and exclaimed, while pushing him out by the shoulders :﻿PECUCHET
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" Wretch! You are a disgrace to the village that gave you birth ! "
His presence inspired no respect. Moreover, he was plagued with the garden. All his time would not have sufficed to keep it in order. Bouvard was occupied with the farm. They took counsel, and decided on this arrangement.
The first point was to have good hot-beds. Pecuchet got one made of brick. He painted the frames himself; and, being afraid of too much sunlight, he smeared over all the bell-glasses with chalk. He took care to cut off the tops of the leaves for slippings. Next he devoted attention to the layers. He attempted many sorts of grafting —flute-graft, crown-graft, shield-graft, herbaceous grafting, and whip-grafting. With what care he adjusted the two libers! how he tightened the ligatures! and what a heap of ointment it took to cover them again!
Twice a day he took his watering-pot and swung it over the plants as if he would have shed incense over them. In proportion as they became green under the water which fell in a thin shower, it seemed to him as if he were quenching his own thirst and reviving along with them. Then, yielding to a feeling of intoxication, he snatched off the rose of the watering-pot, and poured out the liquid copiously from the open neck.
At the end of the elm hedge, near the female figure in plaster, stood a kind of log hut. Pecuchet﻿44
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locked up his implements there, and spent delightful hours there picking the berries, writing labels, and putting his little pots in order. He sat down to rest himself on a box at the door of the hut, and then planned fresh improvements.
He had put two clumps of geraniums at the end of the front steps. Between the cypresses and the distaff-shaped trees he had planted sunflowers; and as the plots were covered with buttercups, and all the walks with fresh sand, the garden was quite dazzling in its abundance of yellow hues.
But the bed swarmed with larvae. In spite of the dead leaves placed there to heat the plants, under the painted frames and the whitened bell-glasses, only a stunted crop made its appearance. He failed with the broccoli, the mad-apples, the turnips, and the watercress, which he had tried to raise in a tub. After the thaw all the artichokes were ruined. The cabbages gave him some consolation. One of them especially excited his hopes. It expanded and shut up quickly, but ended by becoming prodigious and absolutely uneatable. No matter—Pecuchet was content with being the possessor of a monstrosity!
Then he tried his hand at what he regarded as the summum of art—the growing of melons.
He sowed many varieties of seed in plates filled with vegetable mould, which he deposited in the soil of the bed. Then he raised another bed, and when it had put forth its virgin buddings he trans-﻿PECUCHET
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planted the best of them, putting bell-glasses over them. He made all the cuttings in accordance with the precepts of " The Good Gardener." He treated the flowers tenderly; he let the fruits grow in a tangle, and then selected one on either arm, removed the others, and, as soon as they were as large as nuts, he slipped a little board around their rind to prevent them from rotting by contact with dung. He heated them, gave them air, swept off the mist from the bell-glasses with his pocket-handkerchief, and, if he saw lowering clouds, he quickly brought out straw mattings to protect them.
He did not sleep at night on account of them. Many times he even got up out of bed, and, putting on his boots without stockings, shivering in his shirt, he traversed the entire garden to throw his own counterpane over the hot-bed frames.
The melons ripened. Bouvard grinned when he saw the first of them. The second was no better; neither was the third. For each of them Pecuchet found a fresh excuse, down to the very last, which he threw out of the window, declaring that he could not understand it at all.
The fact was that he planted some things beside others of a different species; and so the sweet melons got mixed up with the kitchen - garden melons, the big Portugal with the Grand Mogul variety; and this anarchy was completed by the proximity of the tomatoes—the result being abominable hybrids that had the taste of pumpkins.﻿46
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Then Pecuchet devoted his attention to the flowers. He wrote to Dumouchel to get shrubs with seeds for him, purchased a stock of heath soil, and set to work resolutely.
But he planted passion-flowers in the shade and pansies in the sun, covered the hyacinths with dung, watered the lilies near their blossoms, tried to stimulate the fuchsias with glue, and actually roasted a pomegranate by exposing it to the heat of the kitchen fire.
When the weather got cold, he screened the eglantines under domes of strong paper which had been lubricated with a candle. They looked like sugarloafs held up by sticks.
The dahlias had enormous props; and between these straight lines could be seen the winding branches of a Sophora Japonica, which remained motionless, without either perishing or growing.
However, since even the rarest trees flourish in the gardens of the capital, they must needs grow successfully at Chavignolles; and Pecuchet provided himself with the Indian lilac, the Chinese rose, and the eucalyptus, then in the beginning of its fame. But all his experiments failed; and at each successive failure he was vastly astonished.
Bouvard, like him, met with obstacles. They mutually consulted one another, opened a book, then passed on to another, and did not know what to resolve upon when there was so much divergence of opinion.﻿PECUCHET
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Thus Puvis recommends marl, while the Roret Manual is opposed to it. As for plaster, in spite of the example of Franklin, Riefel and M. Rigaud did not appear to be in raptures about it.
According to Bouvard, fallow lands were a Gothic prejudice. However, Leclerc has noted cases in which they are almost indispensable. Gasparin mentions a native of Lyons who cultivated cereals in the same field for half a century: this upsets the theory as to the variation of crops. Tull extols tillage to the prejudice of rich pasture; and there is Major Beetson, who by means of tillage would abolish pasture altogether.
In order to understand the indications of the weather, they studied the clouds according to the classification of Luke Howard. They contemplated those which spread out like manes, those which resemble islands, and those which might be taken for mountains of snow—trying to distinguish the nimbus from the cirrus and the stratus from the cumulus. The shapes had altered even before they had discovered the names.
The barometer deceived them; the thermometer taught them nothing; and they had recourse to the device invented in Louis XIV.'s time by a priest from Touraine. A leech in a glass bottle was to rise up in the event of rain, to stick to the bottom in settled weather, and to move about if a storm were threatening. But nearly always the atmosphere contradicted the leech. Three others were﻿48
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put in along with it. The entire four behaved differently.
After many reflections, Bouvard realised that he had made a mistake. His property required cultivation on a large scale, the concentrated system, and he risked all the disposable capital that he had left—thirty thousand francs.
Stimulated by Pecuchet, he began to rave about pasture. In the pit for composts were heaped up branches of trees, blood, guts, feathers—everything that he could find. He used Belgian cordial, Swiss wash, lye, red herrings, wrack, rags ; sent for guano, tried to manufacture it himself; and, pushing his principles to the farthest point, he would not suffer urine to be lost: he abolished privies. Into his farmyard were carried carcases of animals, with which he manured his lands. Their cut-up carrion strewed the fields. Bouvard smiled in the midst of this stench. A pump fixed to a dung-cart spattered the liquid manure over the crops. To those who assumed an air of disgust, he used to say, " But 'tis gold! 'tis gold!" And he was sorry that he had not still more manures. Happy the land where natural grottoes are found full of the excrements of birds!
The colza was thin ; the oats only middling; and the corn sold very badly on account of its smell. A curious circumstance was that " La Butte," with the stones cleared away from it at last, yielded less than before.﻿PECUCHET
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He deemed it advisable to renew his material. He bought a Guillaume scarifier, a Valcourt weeder, an English drill-machine, and the great swing-plough of Mathieu de Dombasle, but the ploughboy disparaged it.
" Do you learn to use it!"
"Well, do you show me!"
He made an attempt to show, but blundered, and the peasants sneered. He could never make them obey the command of the bell. He was incessantly bawling after them, rushing from one place to another, taking down observations in a note-book, making appointments and forgetting all about them—and his head was boiling over with industrial speculations.
He got the notion into his head of cultivating the poppy for the purpose of getting opium from it, and above all the milk-vetch, which he intended to sell under the name of " family coffee."
Finally, in order to fatten his oxen the more quickly, he blooded them for an entire fortnight.
He killed none of his pigs, and gorged them with salted oats. The pigsty soon became too narrow. The animals obstructed the farmyard, broke down the fences, and went gnawing at everything.
In the hot weather twenty-five sheep began to get spoiled, and shortly afterwards died. The same week three bulls perished owing to Bouvard's blood-lettings.
4﻿5°
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In order to destroy the maggots, he thought of shutting up the fowls in a hencoop on rollers, which two men had to push along behind the plough—a thing which had only the effect of breaking their claws.
He manufactured beer with germander - leaves, and gave it to the harvesters as cider. The children cried, the women moaned, and the men raged. They all threatened to go, and Bouvard gave way to them.
However, to convince them of the harmlessness of his beverage, he swallowed several bottles of it in their presence; then he got cramps, but concealed his pains under a playful exterior. He even got the mixture sent to his own residence. He drank some of it with Pecuchet in the evening, and both of them tried to persuade themselves that it was good. Besides, it was necessary not to let it go to waste. Bouvard's colic having got worse, Germaine went for the doctor.
He was a grave-looking man, with a round forehead, and he commenced by frightening his patient. He thought the gentleman's attack of cholerine must be connected with the beer which people were talking about in the country. He desired to know what it was composed of, and found fault with it in scientific terms with shruggings of the shoulders. Pecuchet, who had supplied the recipe for it, was mortified.
In spite of pernicious limings, stinted redress-﻿PECUCHET
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ings, and unseasonable weedings, Bouvard had in front of him, in the following year, a splendid crop of wheat. He thought of drying it by fermentation, in the Dutch fashion, on the Clap -Meyer system: that is to say, he got it thrown down all of a heap and piled up in stacks, which would be overturned as soon as the damp escaped from them, and then exposed to the open air— after which Bouvard went off without the least uneasiness.
Next day, while they were at dinner, they heard under the beech trees the beating of a drum. Ger-maine ran out to know what was the matter, but the man was by this time some distance away. Almost at the same moment the church-bell rang violently.
Bouvard and Pecuchet felt alarmed, and, impatient to learn what had happened, they rushed bareheaded along the Chavignolles road.
An old woman passed them. She knew nothing about it. They stopped a little boy, who replied :
" I believe it's a fire ! "
And the drum continued beating and the bell ringing more loudly than before. At length they reached the nearest houses in the village. The grocer, some yards away, exclaimed:
" The fire is at your place! "
Pecuchet stepped out in double-quick time; and he said to Bouvard, who trotted by his side with equal speed:
4—2﻿52
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"One, two! one, two!"—counting his steps regularly, like the chasseurs of Vincennes.
The road which they took was a continuously uphill one; the sloping ground hid the horizon from their view. They reached a height close to " La Butte," and at a single glance the disaster was revealed to them.
All the stacks, here and there, were flaming like volcanoes in the midst of the plain, stripped bare in the evening stillness. Around the biggest of them there were about three hundred persons, perhaps ; and under the command of M. Foureau, the mayor, in a tricoloured scarf, youngsters, with poles and crooks, were dragging down the straw from the top in order to save the rest of it.
Bouvard, in his eagerness, was near knocking down Madame Bordin, who happened to be there. Then, seeing one of his servant-boys, he loaded him with insults for not having given him warning. The servant-boy, on the contrary, through excess of zeal, had at first rushed to the house, then to the church, next to where Monsieur himself was staying, and had returned by the other road.
Bouvard lost his head. His entire household gathered round him, all talking together, and he forbade them to knock down the stacks, begged of them to give him some help, called for water, and asked where were the firemen.
" We've got to get them first! " exclaimed the mayor.﻿PECUCHET
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" That's your fault!" replied Bouvard.
He flew into a passion, and made use of improper language, and everyone wondered at the patience of M. Foureau, who, all the same, was a surly individual, as might be seen from his big lips and bulldog jaw.
The heat of the stacks became so great that nobody could come close to them any longer. Under the devouring flames the straw writhed with a crackling sound, and the grains of corn lashed one's face as if they were buckshot. Then the stack fell in a huge burning pile to the ground, and a shower of sparks flew out of it, while fiery waves floated above the red mass, which presented in its alternations of colour parts rosy as vermilion and others like clotted blood. The night had come, the wind was swelling; from time to time, a flake of fire passed across the black sky.
Bouvard viewed the conflagration with tears in his eyes, which were veiled by his moist lids, and his whole face was swollen with grief. Madame Bordin, while playing with the fringes of her green shawl, called him " Poor Monsieur ! " and tried to console him. Since nothing could be done, he ought to do himself justice.
Pecuchet did not weep. Very pale, or rather livid, with open mouth, and hair stuck together with cold sweat, he stood apart, brooding. But the cure, who had suddenly arrived on the scene, murmured, in a wheedling tone :﻿54
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" Ah! really, what a misfortune ! It is very annoying. Be sure that I enter into your feelings."
The others did not affect any regret. They chatted and smiled, with hands spread out before the flame. An old man picked out burning straws to light his pipe with; and one blackguard cried out that it was very funny.
" Yes, 'tis nice fun! " retorted Bouvard, who had just overheard him.
The fire abated, the burning piles subsided, and an hour later there remained only ashes, making round, black marks on the plain. Then all withdrew.
Madame Bordin and the Abbe Jeufroy led MM. Bouvard and Pecuchet back to their abode.
On the way the widow addressed very polite reproaches to her neighbour on his unsociableness, and the ecclesiastic expressed his great surprise at not having up to the present known such a distinguished parishioner of his.
When they were alone together, they inquired into the cause of the conflagration, and, in place of recognising, like the rest of the world, that the moist straw had taken fire of its own accord, they suspected that it was a case of revenge. It proceeded, no doubt, from Maitre Gouy, or perhaps from the mole-catcher. Six months before Bouvard had refused to accept his services, and even maintained, before a circle of listeners, that his trade was a baneful one, and that the government ought﻿PECUCHET
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to prohibit it. Since that time the man prowled about the locality. He wore his beard full-grown, and appeared to them frightful-looking, especially in the evening, when he presented himself outside the farmyard, shaking his long pole garnished with hanging moles.
The damage done was considerable, and in order to know their exact position, Pecuchet for eight days worked at Bouvard's books, which he pronounced to be " a veritable labyrinth." After he had compared the day-book, the correspondence, and the ledger covered with pencil-notes and discharges, he realised the truth: no goods to sell, no funds to get in, and in the cash-box zero. The capital showed a deficit of thirty-three thousand francs.
Bouvard would not believe it, and more than twenty times they went over the accounts. They always arrived at the same conclusion. Two years more of such farming, and their fortune would be spent on it! The only remedy was to sell out.
To do that, it was necessary to consult a notary. The step was a disagreeable one: Pecuchet took it on himself.
In M. Marescot's opinion, it was better not to put up any posters. He would speak about the farm to respectable clients, and would let them make proposals.
" Very well," said Bouvard, " we have time before us." He intended to get a tenant; then﻿56
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they would see. " We shall not be more unlucky than before; only now we are forced to practise economy! "
Pecuchet was disgusted with gardening, and a few days later he remarked :
" We ought to give ourselves up exclusively to tree culture—not for pleasure, but as a speculation. A pear which is the product of three soils is sometimes sold in the capital for five or six francs. Gardeners make out of apricots twenty-five thousand livres in the year! At St. Petersburg, during the winter, grapes are sold at a napoleon per grape. It is a beautiful industry, you must admit! And what does it cost ? Attention, manuring, and a fresh touch of the pruning-knife."
It excited Bouvard's imagination so much that they sought immediately in their books for a nomenclature for purchasable plants, and, having selected names which appeared to them wonderful, they applied to a nurseryman from Falaise, who busied himself in supplying them with three hundred stalks for which he had not found a sale. They got a locksmith for the props, an iron-worker for the fasteners, and a carpenter for the rests. The forms of the trees were designed beforehand. Pieces of lath on the wall represented candelabra. Two posts at the ends of the plat-bands supported steel threads in a horizontal position ; and in the orchard, hoops indicated the structure of vases, cone-shaped switches that of pyramids, go well that, in arriving in the midst of﻿PECUCHET
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them, you imagined you saw pieces of some unknown machinery or the framework of a pyrotechnic apparatus.
The holes having been dug, they cut the ends of all the roots, good or bad, and buried them in a compost. Six months after the plants were dead. Fresh orders to the nurseryman, and fresh plantations in still deeper holes. But the rain softening the soil, the grafts buried themselves in the ground of their own accord, and the trees sprouted out.
When spring had come, Pecuchet set about the pruning of pear trees. He did not cut down the shoots, spared the superfluous side branches, and, persisting in trying to lay the " duchesses " out in a square when they ought to go in a string on one side, he broke them or tore them down invariably. As for the peach trees, he got mixed up with over-mother branches, under-mother branches, and second-under-mother branches. The empty and the full always presented themselves when they were not wanted, and it was impossible to obtain on an,, espalier a perfect rectangle, with six branches to the right and six to the left, not including the two principal ones, the whole forming a fine bit of herring-bone work.
Bouvard tried to manage the apricot trees, but they rebelled. He lowered their stems nearly to a level with the ground; none of them shot up again. The cherry trees, in which he had made notches, produced gum.
At first, they cut very long, which destroyed the﻿58
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principal buds, and then very short, which led to; excessive branching ; and they often hesitated, not knowing how to distinguish between buds of trees and buds of flowers. They were delighted to have flowers, but when they recognised their mistake, they tore off the three-fourths of them to strengthen the remainder.
Incessantly they kept talking about " sap " and "cambium," "paling up," "breaking down," and " blinding of an eye." In the middle of their dining-room they had in a frame the list of their young growths, as if they were pupils, with a number which was repeated in the garden on a little piece of wood, at the foot of the tree. Out of bed at dawn, they kept working till nightfall with their twigs carried in their belts. In the cold mornings of spring, Bouvard wore his knitted vest under his blouse, and Pecuchet his old frock-coat under his packcloth wrapper; and the people passing by the open fence heard them coughing in the damp atmosphere.
Sometimes Pecuchet drew forth his manual from his pocket, and he studied a paragraph of it standing up with his grafting-tool near him in the attitude of the gardener who decorated the frontispiece of the book. This resemblance flattered him exceedingly, and made him entertain more esteem for the author.
Bouvard was continually perched on a high ladder before the pyramids. One day he was seized with dizziness, and, not daring to come down farther, he called on Pecuchet to come to his aid.﻿PECUCHET
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At length pears made their appearance, and there were plums in the orchard. Then they made use of all the devices which had been recommended to them against the birds. But the bits of glass made dazzling reflections, the clapper of the windmill woke them during the night, and the sparrows perched on the lay figure. They made a second, and even a third, varying the dress, but without any useful result.
However, they could hope for some fruit. Pecu-chet had just given an intimation of the fact to Bouvard, when suddenly the thunder resounded and the rain fell—a heavy and violent downpour. The wind at intervals shook the entire surface of the espalier. The props gave way one after the other, and the unfortunate distaff-shaped trees, while swaying under the storm, dashed their pears against each other.
Pecuchet, surprised by the shower, had taken refuge in the hut. Bouvard stuck to the kitchen. They saw splinters of wood, branches, and slates whirling in front of them ; and the sailors' wives who, on the sea-shore ten leagues away, were gazing out at the sea, had not eyes more wistful or hearts more anxious. Then, suddenly, the supports and wooden bars of espaliers facing one another, together with the rail-work, toppled down into the plat-bands.
What a picture when they went to inspect the scene! The cherries and plums covered the grass, amid the dissolving hailstones. The Passe Colmars﻿6o
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were destroyed, as well as the Besi des Veterans and the Triomphes de Jordoigne. There was barely left amongst the apples even a few Bon Papas; and a dozen Tetons de Venus, the entire crop of peaches, rolled into the pools of water by the side of the box trees, which had been torn up by the roots.
After dinner, at which they ate very little, Pecuchet said softly:
" We would do well to see after the farm, lest anything has happened to it."
" Bah ! only to find fresh causes of sadness."
"Perhaps so; for we are not exactly lucky."
And they made complaints against Providence and against nature.
Bouvard, with his elbows on the table, spoke in little whispers; and as all their troubles began to subside, their former agricultural projects came back to their recollection, especially the starch manufacture and the invention of a new sort of cheese.
Pecuchet drew a loud breath; and while he crammed several pinches of snuff into his nostrils, he reflected that, if fate had so willed it, he might now be a member of an agricultural society, might be delivering brilliant lectures, and might be referred to as an authority in the newspapers.
Bouvard cast a gloomy look around him.
" Faith ! I'm anxious to get rid of all this, in order that we may settle down somewhere else!﻿PECUCHET
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" Just as you like," said Pecuchet; and the next moment: " The authors recommend us to suppress every direct passage. In this way the sap is counteracted, and the tree necessarily suffers thereby. In order to be in good health, it would be necessary for it to have no fruit! However, those which we prune and which we never manure produce them not so big, it is true, but more luscious. I require them to give me a reason for this! And not only each kind demands its particular attentions, but still more each individual tree, according to climate, temperature, and a heap of things! Where, then, is the rule ? and what hope have we of any success or profit ? "
Bouvard replied to him, " You will see in Gas-parin that the profit cannot exceed the tenth of the capital. Therefore, we would be doing better by investing this capital in a banking-house. At the end of fifteen years, by the accumulation of interest, we'd have it doubled, without having our constitutions ground down."
Pecuchet hung down his head. " Arboriculture may be a humbug ! " " Like agriculture ! " replied Bouvard. Then they blamed themselves for having been too ambitious, and they resolved to husband thenceforth their labour and their money. An occasional pruning would suffice for the orchard. The counter-espaliers were forbidden, and dead or fallen trees should not be replaced; but he was going to do a﻿62
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nasty job—nothing less than to destroy all the others which remained standing. How was he to set about the work ?
Pecuchet made several diagrams, while using his mathematical case. Bouvard gave him advice. They arrived at no satisfactory result. Fortunately, they discovered amongst their collection of books Boitard's work entitled " L'Architecte des Jardins."
The author divides them into a great number of styles. First there is the melancholy and romantic style, which is distinguished by immortelles, ruins, tombs, and " a votive offering to the Virgin, indicating the place where a lord has fallen under the blade of an assassin." The terrible style is composed of overhanging rocks, shattered trees, burning huts ; the exotic style, by planting Peruvian torch-thistles, " in order to arouse memories in a colonist or a traveller." The grave style should, like Erme-nonville, offer a temple to philosophy. The majestic style is characterised by obelisks and triumphal arches; the mysterious style by moss and by grottoes ; while a lake is appropriate to the dreamy style. There is even the fantastic style, of which the most beautiful specimen might have been lately seen in a garden at Wurtemberg—for there might have been met successively a wild boar, a hermit, several sepulchres, and a barque detaching itself from the shore of its own accord, in order to lead you into a boudoir where water-spouts lave you when you are settling yourself down upon a sofa.﻿PECUCHET
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Before this horizon of marvels, Bouvard and Pecuchet experienced a kind of bedazzlement. The fantastic style appeared to them reserved for princes. The temple to philosophy would be cumbersome. The votive offering to the Madonna would have no signification, having regard to the lack of assassins, and—so much the worse for the colonists and the travellers—the American plants would cost too much. But the rocks were possible, as well as the shattered trees, the immortelles, and the moss ; and in their enthusiasm for new ideas, after many experiments, with the assistance of a single man-servant, and for a trifling sum, they made for themselves a residence which had no analogy to it in the entire department.
The elm hedge, open here and there, allowed the light of day to fall on the thicket, which was full of winding paths in the fashion of a labyrinth. They had conceived the idea of making in the espalier wall an archway, through which the prospect could be seen. As the arch could not remain suspended, the result was an enormous breach and a fall of wreckage to the ground.
They had sacrificed the asparagus in order to build on the spot an Etruscan tomb, that is to say, a quadrilateral figure in dark plaster, six feet in height, and looking like a dog-hole. Four little pine trees at the corners flanked the monument, which was to be surmounted by an urn and enriched by an inscription.
In the other part of the kitchen garden, a kind﻿64
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of Rialto projected over a basin, presenting on its margin encrusted shells of mussels. The soil drank up the water — no matter! they would contrive a glass bottom which would keep it back.
The hut had been transformed into a rustic summer-house with the aid of coloured glass.
At the top of the hillock, six trees, cut square, supported a tin headpiece with the edges turned up, and the whole was meant to signify a Chinese pagoda.
They had gone to the banks of the Orne to select granite, and had broken it, marked the pieces with numbers, and carried them back themselves in a cart, then had joined the fragments together with cement, placing them one above the other in a mass; and in the middle of the grass arose a rock resembling a gigantic potato.
Something further was needed to complete the harmony. They pulled down the largest linden tree they had (however, it was three-quarters dead), and laid it down the entire length of the garden, in such a way that one would imagine it had been carried thither by a torrent or levelled to the ground by a thunderstorm.
The task finished, Bouvard, who was on the steps, cried from a distance :
" Here ! you can see best! "—" See best! " was repeated in the air.
Pecuchet answered :
" I am going there ! "—" Going there ! "﻿PECUCHET
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" Hold on ! 'Tis an echo ! "—" Echo ! "
The linden tree had hitherto prevented it from being produced, and it was assisted by the pagoda, as it faced the barn, whose gables rose above the row of trees.
In order to try the'effect of the echo, they amused themselves by giving vent to comical phrases: Bou-vard yelled out language of a blackguard description.
He had been several times at Falaise, under the pretence of going there to receive money, and he always came back with little parcels, which he locked up in the chest of drawers. Pecuchet started one morning to repair to Bretteville, and returned very late with a basket, which he hid under his bed. Next day, when he awoke, Bouvard was surprised. The two first yew trees of the principal walk, which the day before were still spherical, had the appearance of peacocks, and a horn with two porcelain knobs represented the beak and the eyes. Pecuchet had risen at dawn, and, trembling lest he should be discovered, he had cut the two trees according to the measurement given in the written instructions sent him by Dumouchel.
For six months the others behind the two above mentioned assumed the forms of pyramids, cubes, cylinders, stags, or armchairs ; but there was nothing equal to the peacocks. Bouvard acknowledged it with many eulogies.
Under pretext of having forgotten his spade, he drew his comrade into the labyrinth, for he had
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profited by Pecuchet's absence to do, himself too, something sublime.
The gate leading into the fields was covered over with a coating of plaster, under which were ranged in beautiful order five or six bowls of pipes, representing Abd-el-Kader, negroes, naked women, horses' feet, and death's-heads.
" Do you understand my impatience ? "
" I rather think so! "
And in their emotion they embraced one another.
Like all artists, they felt the need of being applauded, and Bouvard thought of giving a big dinner.
" Take care! " said Pecuchet, " you are going to plunge into entertainments. It is a whirlpool! "
The matter, however, was decided. Since they had come to live in the country, they had kept themselves isolated. Everybody, through eagerness to make their acquaintance, accepted their invitation, except the Count de Faverges, who had been summoned to the capital by business. They fell back on M. Hurel, his factotum.
Beljambe, the innkeeper, formerly a chef at Lisieux, was to cook certain dishes; Germaine had engaged the services of the poultry-wench ; and Marianne, Madame Bordin's servant-girl, would also come. Since four o'clock the range was wide open; and the two proprietors, full of impatience, awaited their guests.
Hurel stopped under the beech row to adjust﻿PECUCHET
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his frock-coat. Then the cure stepped forward, arrayed in a new cassock, and, a second later, M. Foureau, in a velvet waistcoat. The doctor gave his arm to his wife, who walked with some difficulty, assisting herself with her parasol. A stream of red ribbons fluttered behind them—it was the cap of Madame Bordin, who was dressed in a lovely robe of shot silk. The gold chain of her watch dangled over her breast, and rings glittered on both her hands, which were partly covered with black mittens. Finally appeared the notary, with a Panama hat on his head, and an eyeglass—for the professional practitioner had not stifled in him the man of the world. The drawing-room floor was waxed so that one could not stand upright there. The eight Utrecht armchairs had their backs to the wall; a round table in the centre supported the liqueur case; and above the mantelpiece could be seen the portrait of Pere Bouvard. The shades, reappearing in the imperfect light, made the mouth grin and the eyes squint, and a slight mouldiness on the cheek-bones seemed to produce the illusion of real whiskers. The guests traced a resemblance between him and his son, and Madame Bordin added, glancing at Bouvard, that he must have been a very fine man.
After an hour's waiting Pecuchet announced that they might pass into the dining-room.
The white calico curtains with red borders were, like those of the drawing-room, completely drawn
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before the windows, and the sun's rays passing across them, flung a brilliant light on the wainscot -ings, the only ornament of which was a barometer.
Bouvard placed the two ladies beside him, while Pecuchet had the mayor on his left and the cure on his right.
They began with the oysters. They had the taste of mud. Bouvard was annoyed, and was prodigal of excuses, and Pecuchet got up in order to go into the kitchen and make a scene with Beljambe.
During the whole of the first course, which consisted of a brill with a vol-au-vent and stewed pigeons, the conversation turned on the mode of manufacturing cider; after which they discussed what meats were digestible or indigestible. Naturally, the doctor was consulted. He looked at matters sceptically, like a man who had dived into the depths of science, and yet did not brook the slightest contradiction.
At the same time, with the sirloin of beef, Burgundy was supplied. It was muddy. Bouvard, attributing this accident to the rinsing of the bottles, got them to try three others without more success; then he poured out some St. Julien, manifestly not long enough in bottle, and all the guests were mute. Hurel smiled without discontinuing ; the heavy steps of the waiters resounded over the flooring.
Madame Vaucorbeil, who was dumpy and waddling in her gait (besides she was near her confinement),﻿PECUCHET
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had maintained absolute silence. Bouvard, not knowing what to talk to her about, spoke of the theatre at Caen.
" My wife never goes to the play," interposed the doctor.
M. Marescot observed that, when he lived in Paris, he used to go only to the Italian operas.
" For my part," said Bouvard, " I used to pay for a seat in the pit sometimes at the Vaudeville to hear farces."
Foureau asked Madame Bordin whether she liked farces.
" That depends on what kind they are," she said.
The mayor rallied her. She made sharp rejoinders to his pleasantries. Then she mentioned a recipe for preparing gherkins. However, her talents for housekeeping were well known, and she had a little farm, which was admirably looked after.
Foureau asked Bouvard, "Is it your intention to sell yours ? "
" Upon my word, up to this I don't know what to do exactly."
" What! not even the Ecalles piece ? " interposed the notary. " That would suit you, Madame Bordin."
The widow replied in an affected manner :
" The demands of M. Bouvard would be too high."
" Perhaps someone could soften him."
" I will not try."
" Bah ! if you embraced him ? "﻿70
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" Let us try, all the same," said Bouvard.
And he kissed her on both cheeks, amid the plaudits of the guests.
Almost immediately after this incident, they uncorked the champagne, whose detonations caused an additional sense of enjoyment. Pecuchet made a sign ; the curtains opened, and the garden showed itself.
In the twilight it looked dreadful. The rockery, like a mountain, covered the entire grass plot; the tomb formed a cube in the midst of spinaches, the Venetian bridge a circumflex accent over the kidney-beans, and the summer-house beyond a big black spot, for they had burned its straw roof to make it more poetic. The yew trees, shaped like stags or armchairs, succeeded to the tree that seemed thunder-stricken, extending transversely from the elm row to the arbour, where tomatoes hung like stalactites. Here and there a sunflower showed its yellow disk. The Chinese pagoda, painted red, seemed a lighthouse on the hillock. The peacocks' beaks, struck by the sun, reflected back the rays, and behind the railed gate, now freed from its boards, a perfectly flat landscape bounded the horizon.
In the teeth of their guests' astonishment Bouvard and Pecuchet experienced a veritable delight.
Madame Bordin admired the peacocks above all; but the tomb was not appreciated, or the cot in flames, or the wall in ruins. Then each in turn passed over the bridge. In order to fill the basin,﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard and Pecuchet had been carrying water in carts all the morning. It had escaped between the foundation stones, which were imperfectly joined to-together, and covered them over again with lime.
While they were walking about, the guests indulged in criticism.
" In your place that's what I'd have done."— " The green peas are late."—" Candidly, this corner is not all right."—" With such pruning you'll never get fruit."
Bouvard was obliged to answer that he did not care a jot for fruit.
As they walked past the hedge of trees, he said with a sly air:
" Ah! here's a lady that puts us out of countenance : a thousand excuses!"
It was a well-seasoned joke; everyone knew " the lady in plaster."
Finally, after many turns in the labyrinth, they arrived in front of the gate with the pipes. Looks of stupefaction were exchanged. Bouvard observed the faces of his guests, and, impatient to learn what was their opinion, asked : " What do you say to it ? " Madame Bordin burst out laughing. All the others followed her example, after their respective ways—the cure giving a sort of cluck like a hen, Hurel coughing, the doctor mourning over it, while his wife had a nervous spasm, and Foureau, an unceremonious type of man, breaking an Abd-﻿72
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el-Kader and putting it into his pocket as a souvenir.
When they had left the tree-hedge, Bouvard, to astonish the company with the echo, exclaimed with all his strength :
" Servant, ladies ! "
Nothing! No echo. This was owing to the repairs made in the barn, the gable and the roof having been demolished.
The coffee was served on the hillock; and the gentlemen were about to commence a game of ball, when they saw in front of them, behind the railed fence, a man staring at them.
He was lean and sunburnt, with a red pair of pantaloons in rags, a blue vest, no shirt, his black beard cut like a brush. He articulated, in a hoarse voice :
"Give me a glass of wine!"
The mayor and the Abbe Jeufroy had at once recognised him. He had formerly been a joiner at Chavignolles.
" Come, Gorju ! take yourself off," said M. Fou-reau. " You ought not to be asking for alms."
" I ! Alms! " cried the exasperated man. " I served seven years in the wars in Africa. I've only just got up out of a hospital. Good God! must I turn cutthroat ? "
His anger subsided of its own accord, and, with his two fists on his hips, he surveyed the assembled guests with a melancholy and defiant air. The﻿PECUCHET
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fatigue of bivouacs, absinthe, and fever, an entire existence of wretchedness and debauchery, stood revealed in his dull eyes. His white lips quivered, exposing the gums. The vast sky, empurpled, enveloped him in a blood-red light; and his obstinacy in remaining there caused a species of terror.
Bouvard, to have done with him, went to look for the remnants of a bottle. The vagabond swallowed the wine greedily, then disappeared amongst the oats, gesticulating as he went.
After this, blame was attached by those present to Bouvard. Such kindnesses encouraged disorder. But Bouvard, irritated at the ill-success of his garden, took up the defence of the people. They all began talking at the same time.
Foureau extolled the government. Hurel saw nothing in the world but landed property. The Abbe Jeufroy complained of the fact that it did not protect religion. Pecuchet attacked the taxes. Madame Bordin exclaimed at intervals, " As for me, I detest the Republic." And the doctor declared himself in favour of progress, " For, indeed, gentlemen, we have need of reforms."
"Possibly," said Foureau; "but all these ideas are injurious to business."
" I laugh at business !" cried Pecuchet.
Vaucorbeil went on: "At least let us make allowance for abilities."
Bouvard would not go so far.
" That is your opinion," replied the doctor;﻿74
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" there's an end of you, then ! Good evening. And I wish you a deluge in order to sail in your basin! "
" And I, too, am going," said M. Foureau the next moment; and, pointing to the pocket where the Abd-el-Kader was, " If I feel the want of another, I'll come back."
The cure, before departing, timidly confided to Pecuchet that he did not think this imitation of a tomb in the midst of vegetables quite decorous. Hurel, as he withdrew, made a low bow to the company. M. Marescot had disappeared after dessert. Madame Bordin again went over her recipe for gherkins, promised a second for plums with brandy, and made three turns in the large walk; but, passing close to the linden tree, the end of her dress got caught, and they heard her murmuring :
"My God! what a piece of idiocy this tree is ! " At midnight the two hosts, beneath the arbour, gave vent to their resentment.
No doubt one might find fault with two or three little details here and there in the dinner ; and yet the guests had gorged themselves like ogres, showing that it was not so bad. But, as for the garden, so much depreciation sprang from the blackest jealousy. And both of them, lashing themselves into a rage, went on :
" Ha ! there's water needed in the basin. Patience ! they may see even a swan and fishes in it! " " They scarcely noticed the pagoda."﻿PECUCHET
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" To pretend that the ruins are not proper is an imbecile's view."
" And the tomb objectionable ! Why objectionable ? Is it that a man has not the right to erect one in his own demesne ? I even intend to be buried in it! "
" Don't talk like that! " said Pecuchet.
Then they passed the guests in review.
" The doctor seems to me a nice snob ! "
" Did you notice the sneer of M. Marescot before the portrait ? "
" What a low fellow the mayor is ! When you dine in a house, hang it! you should show some respect towards the curios."
" Madame Bordin ? " said Bouvard.
" Ah ! that one's a schemer. Don't annoy me by talking about her."
Disgusted with society, they resolved to see nobody any more, but live exclusively to themselves and for themselves.
And they spent days in the wine-cellar, picking the tartar off the bottles, re-varnished all the furniture, enamelled the rooms; and each evening, as they watched the wood burning, they discussed the best system of fuel.
Through economy they tried to smoke hams, and attempted to do the washing themselves. Ger-maine, whom they inconvenienced, used to shrug her shoulders. When the time came for making preserves she got angry, and they took up their﻿76
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station in the bakehouse. It was a disused wash-house, where there was, under the faggots, a big, old-fashioned tub, excellently fitted for their projects, the ambition having seized them to manufacture preserves.
Fourteen glass bottles were filled with tomatoes and green peas. They coated the stoppers with quicklime and cheese, attached to the rims silk cords, and then plunged them into boiling water. It evaporated; they poured in cold water; the difference of temperature caused the bowls to burst. Only three of them were saved. Then they procured old sardine boxes, put veal cutlets into them, and plunged them into a vessel of boiling water. They came out as round as balloons. The cold flattened them out afterwards. To continue their experiments, they shut up in other boxes eggs, chicory, lobster, a hotchpotch of fish, and a soup!—and they applauded themselves like M. Appert, " on having fixed the seasons." Such discoveries, according to Pecuchet, carried him beyond the exploits of conquerors.
They improved upon Madame Bordin's pickles by spicing the vinegar with pepper; and their brandy plums were very much superior. By the process of steeping ratafia they obtained raspberry and absinthe. With honey and angelica in a cask of Bagnolles they tried to make Malaga wine; and they likewise undertook the manufacture of champagne ! The bottles of Chablis diluted with must﻿PECUCHET
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burst of themselves. Then he no longer was doubtful of success.
Their studies widening, they came to suspect frauds in all articles of food. They cavilled with the baker on the colour of his bread; they made the grocer their enemy by maintaining that he adulterated his chocolate. They went to Falaise for a jujube, and, even under the apothecary's own eyes, they submitted his paste to the test of water. It assumed the appearance of a piece of bacon, which indicated gelatine.
After this triumph, their pride rose to a high pitch. They bought up the stock of a bankrupt distiller, and soon there arrived in the house sieves, barrels, funnels, skimmers, filters, and scales, without counting a bowl of wood with a ball attached and a Moreshead still, which required a reflecting furnace with a basket funnel. They learned how sugar is clarified, and the different kinds of boilings, the large and the small system of boiling twice over, the blowing system, the methods of making up in balls, the reduction of sugar to a viscous state, and the making of burnt sugar. But they longed to use the still; and they broached the fine liquors, beginning with the aniseed cordial. The liquid nearly always drew away the materials with it, or rather they stuck together at the bottom; at other times they were mistaken as to the amount of the ingredients. Around them shone great copper pans; egg-shaped vessels projected their narrow﻿78
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openings; saucepans hung from the walls. Frequently one of them culled herbs on the table, while the other made the ball swing in the suspended bowl. They stirred the ladles ; they tasted the mashes.
Bouvard, always in a perspiration, had no garment on save his shirt and his pantaloons, drawn up to the pit of his stomach by his short braces; but, giddy as a bird, he would forget the opening in the centre of the cucurbit, or would make the fire too strong.
Pecuchet kept muttering calculations, motionless in his long blouse, a kind of child's smock-frock with sleeves; and they looked upon themselves as very serious people engaged in very useful occupations.
At length they dreamed of a cream which would surpass all the others. They would put into it coriander as in Kummel, kirsch as in Maraschino, hyssop as in Chartreuse, amber-seed as in Vespetro cordial, and sweet calamus as in Krambambuly; and it would be coloured red with sandal-wood. But under what name would they introduce it for commercial purposes ?—for they would want a name easy to retain and yet fanciful. Having turned the matter over a long time, they determined that it should be called " Bouvarine."
About the end of autumn stains appeared in the three glass bowls containing the preserves. The tomatoes and green peas were rotten. That must have been due to the way they had stopped﻿PECUCHET
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up the vessels. Then the problem of stoppage tormented them. In order to try the new methods, they required money; and the farm had eaten up their resources.
Many times tenants had offered themselves ; but Bouvard would not have them. His principal farm-servant carried on the cultivation according to his directions, with a risky economy, to such an extent that the crops diminished and everything was imperilled ; and they were talking about their embarrassments when Maitre Gouy entered the laboratory, escorted by his wife, who remained timidly in the background.
Thanks to all the dressings they had got, the lands were improved, and he had come to take up the farm again. He ran it down. In spite of all their toils, the profits were uncertain; in short, if he wanted it, that was because of his love for the country, and his regret for such good masters.
They dismissed him coldly. He came back the same evening.
Pecuchet had preached at Bouvard ; they were on the point of giving way. Gouy asked for a reduction of rent; and when the others protested, he began to bellow rather than speak, invoking the name of God, enumerating his labours, and extolling his merits. When they called on him to state his terms, he hung down his head instead of answering. Then his wife, seated near the door, with a big basket on her knees, made similar pro-﻿8o
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testations, screeching in a sharp voice, like a hen that has been hurt.
At last the lease was agreed on, the rent being fixed at three thousand francs a year—a third less than it had been formerly.
Before they had separated, Maitre Gouy offered to buy up the stock, and the bargaining was renewed.
The valuation of the chattels occupied fifteen days. Bouvard was dying of fatigue. He let everything go for a sum so contemptible that Gouy at first opened his eyes wide, and exclaiming, " Agreed ! " slapped his palm.
After which the proprietors, following the old custom, proposed that they should take a " nip " at the house, and Pecuchet opened a bottle of his Malaga, less through generosity than in the hope of eliciting eulogies on the wine.
But the husbandman said, with a sour look, " It's like liquorice syrup." And his wife, " in order to get rid of the taste," asked for a glass of brandy.
A graver matter engaged their attention. All the ingredients of the " Bouvarine " were now collected. They heaped them together in the cucurbit, with the alcohol, lighted the fire, and waited. However, Pecuchet, annoyed by the misadventure about the Malaga, took the tin boxes out of the cupboard and pulled the lid off the first, then off the second, and then off the third. He angrily flung them down,﻿PECUCHET
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and called out to Bouvard. The latter had fastened the cock of the worm in order to try the effect on the preserves.
The disillusion was complete. The slices of veal were like boiled boot-soles; a muddy fluid had taken the place of the lobster; the fish-stew was unrecognisable ; mushroom growths had sprouted over the soup, and an intolerable smell tainted the laboratory.
Suddenly, with the noise of a bombshell, the still burst into twenty pieces, which jumped up to the ceiling, smashing the pots, flattening out the skimmers, and shattering the glasses. The coal was scattered about, the furnace was demolished, and next day Germaine found a spatula in the yard.
The force of the steam had broken the instrument to such an extent that the cucurbit was pinned to the head of the still.
Pecuchet immediately found himself squatted behind the vat, and Bouvard lay like one who had fallen over a stool. For ten minutes they remained in this posture, not daring to venture on a single movement, pale with terror, in the midst of broken glass. When they were able to recover the power of speech, they asked themselves what was the cause of so many misfortunes, and of the last, above all ? And they could understand nothing about the matter except that they were near being killed. Pecuchet finished with these words:
" It is, perhaps, because we do not know chemistry ! "
6﻿Ill
order to understand chemistry they procured Regnault's course of lectures, and were, in the first place, informed that "simple bodies are perhaps com-1	pound." They are divided into metalloids
and metals—a difference in which, the author observes, there is " nothing absolute." So with acids and bases, " a body being able to behave in the manner of acids or of bases, according to circumstances."
The notation appeared to them irregular. The multiple proportions perplexed Pecuchet.
" Since one molecule of a, I suppose, is combined with several particles of b, it seems to me that this molecule ought to be divided into as many particles; but, if it is divided, it ceases to be unity, the primordial molecule. In short, I do not understand."
"No more do I," said Bouvard.
And they had recourse to a work less difficult, that of Girardin, from which they acquired the certainty that ten litres of air weigh a hundred grammes, that lead does not go into pencils, and that the diamond is only carbon,﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
What amazed them above all is that the earth, as an element, does not exist.
They grasped the working of straw, gold, silver, the lye-washing of linen, the tinning of saucepans; then, without the least scruple, Bouvard and Pecu-chet launched into organic chemistry.
What a marvel to find again in living beings the same substances of which the minerals are composed ! Nevertheless they experienced a sort of humiliation at the idea that their own personality contained phosphorus, like matches; albumen, like the whites of eggs; and hydrogen gas, like street-lamps.
After colours and oily substances came the turn of fermentation. This brought them to acids—and the law of equivalents once more confused them. They tried to elucidate it by means of the atomic theory, which fairly swamped them.
In Bouvard's opinion instruments would have been necessary to understand all this. The expense was very great, and they had incurred too much already. But, no doubt, Dr. Vaucorbeil could enlighten them.
They presented themselves during his consultation hours.
"I hear you, gentlemen. What is your ailment?"
Pecuchet replied that they were not patients, and, having stated the object of their visit:
" We want to understand, in the first place, the higher atomicity."
6—2﻿BOUVARD AND
The physician got very red, then blamed them for being anxious to learn chemistry.
" I am not denying its importance, you may be sure; but really they are shoving it in everywhere! It exercises a deplorable influence on medicine."
And the authority of his language was strengthened by the appearance of his surroundings. Over the chimney-piece trailed some diachylum and strips for binding. In the middle of the desk stood the surgical case. A basin in a corner was full of probes, and close to the wall there was a representation of a human figure deprived of the skin.
Pecuchet complimented the doctor on it.
" It must be a lovely study, anatomy."
M. Vaucorbeil expatiated on the fascination he had formerly found in dissections; and Bouvard inquired what were the analogies between the interior of a woman and that of a man.
In order to satisfy him, the doctor fetched from his library a collection of anatomical plates.
" Take them with you ! You can look at them more at your ease in your own house."
The skeleton astonished them by the prominence of the jawbone, the holes for the eyes, and the frightful length of the hands.
They stood in need of an explanatory work. They returned to M. Vaucorbeil's residence, and, thanks to the manual of Alexander Lauth, they learned the divisions of the frame, wondering at the backbone, sixteen times stronger, it is said, than if the﻿PECUCHET
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Creator had made it straight (why sixteen times exactly ?). The metacarpals drove Bouvard crazy; and Pecuchet, who was in a desperate state over the cranium, lost courage before the sphenoid, although it resembles a Turkish or " Turkesque" saddle.
As for the articulations, they were hidden under too many ligaments; so they attacked the muscles. But the insertions were not easily discovered; and when they came to the vertebral grooves they gave it up completely.
Then Pecuchet said:
" If we took up chemistry again, would not this be only utilising the laboratory ?"
Bouvard protested, and he thought he had a recollection of artificial corpses being manufactured according to the custom of hot countries.
Barberou, with whom he communicated, gave him some information about the matter. For ten francs a month they could have one of the manikins of M. Auzoux; and the following week the carrier from Falaise deposited before their gate an oblong box.
Full of emotion, they carried it into the bakehouse. When the boards were unfastened, the straw fell down, the silver paper slipped off, and the anatomical figure made its appearance.
It was brick-coloured, without hair or skin, and variegated with innumerable strings, red, blue, and white. It did not look like a corpse, but rather﻿86
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like a kind of plaything, very ugly, very clean, and smelling of varnish.
They next took off the thorax; and they perceived the two lungs, like a pair of sponges, the heart like a big egg, slightly sideways behind the diaphragm, the kidneys, the entire bundle of entrails.
" To work ! " said Pecuchet. The day and the evening were spent at it. They had put blouses on, just as medical students do in the dissecting-rooms; and, by the light of three candles, they were working at their pieces of pasteboard, when a fist knocked at the door.
" Open ! "
It was M. Foureau, followed by the keeper.
Germaine's masters were pleased to show him the manikin. She had rushed immediately to the grocer's shop to tell the thing, and the whole village now imagined that they had a real corpse concealed in their house. Foureau, yielding to the public clamour, had come to make sure about the fact. A number of persons, anxious for information, stood outside the porch.
When he entered, the manikin was lying on its side, and the muscles of the face having been loosened, caused a monstrous protrusion, and looked something frightful.
" What brings you here ? " said Pecuchet.
Foureau stammered : " Nothing, nothing at all." And, taking up one of the pieces from the table, " What is this ? "﻿PECUCHET
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" The buccinator," replied Bouvard.
Foureau said nothing, but smiled in a sly fashion, jedous of their having an amusement which he could not afford.
The two anatomists pretended to be pursuing their investigations. The people outside, getting bored with waiting, made their way into the bakehouse, and, as they began pushing one another a little, the table shook.
" Ah ! this is too annoying," exclaimed Pecuchet. " Let us be rid of the public ! "
The keeper made the busybodies take themselves
off.
" Very well," said Bouvard; " we don't want anyone."
Foureau understood the allusion, and put it to them whether, not being medical men, they had the right to keep such an object in their possession. However, he was going to write to the prefect.
What a country district it was! There could be nothing more foolish, barbarous, and retrograde. The comparison which they instituted between themselves and the others consoled them—they felt a longing to suffer in the cause of science.
The doctor, too, came to see them. He disparaged the model as too far removed from nature, but took advantage of the occasion to give them a lecture.
Bouvard and Pecuchet were delighted; and at their request M. Vaucorbeil lent them several volumes out of his library, declaring at the same﻿88
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time that they would not reach the end of them. The* took note of the cases of childbirth, longevity, obesitr, and extraordinary constipation given in the " Dictionary of Medical Sciences." Would that they had known the famous Canadian, De Beaumont, the pcly-phagi, Tarare and Bijou, the dropsical woman from the department of Eure, the Piedmontese who went every twenty days to the water-closet, Simon de Mirepoix, who was ossified at the time of his death, and that ancient mayor of Angouleme whose nose weighed three pounds !
The brain inspired them with philosophic reflections. They easily distinguished in the interior of it the septum lucidum, composed of two lamellae, and the pineal gland, which is like a little red pea. But there were peduncles and ventricles, arches, columns, strata, ganglions, and fibres of all kinds, and the foramen of Pacchioni and the " body " of Paccini; in short, an inextricable mass of details enough to wear their lives out.
Sometimes, in a fit of dizziness, they would take the figure completely to pieces, then would get perplexed about putting back each part in its proper place. This was troublesome work, especially after breakfast, and it was not long before they were both asleep, Bouvard with drooping chin and protruding stomach, and Pecuchet with his hands over his head and both elbows on the table.
Often at that moment M. Vaucorbeil, having finished his morning rounds, would open the door.﻿PECUCHET
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" Well, comrades, how goes anatomy ? "
" Splendidly," they would answer.
Then he would put questions to them, for the pleasure of confusing them.
When they were tired of one organ they went on to another, in this way taking up and then throwing aside the heart, the stomach, the ear, the intestines ; for the pasteboard manikin bored them to death, despite their efforts to become interested in him. At last the doctor came on them suddenly, just as they were nailing him up again in his box.
" Bravo ! I expected that."
At their age they could not undertake such studies; and the smile that accompanied these words wounded them deeply.
What right had he to consider them incapable ? Did science belong to this gentleman, as if he were himself a very superior personage ? Then, accepting his challenge, they went all the way -to Bayeux to purchase books there. What they required was physiology, and a second-hand bookseller procured for them the treatises of Richerand and Adelon, celebrated at the period.
All the commonplaces as to ages, sexes, and temperaments appeared to them of the highest importance. They were much pleased to learn that there are in the tartar of the teeth three kinds of animalcules, that the seat of taste is in the tongue, and the sensation of hunger in the stomach.
In order to grasp its functions better, they re-﻿go
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gretted that they had not the faculty of ruminating, as Montegre, M. Gosse, and the brother of Gerard had; and they masticated slowly, reduced the food to pulp, and insalivated it, accompanying in thought the alimentary mass passing into their intestines, and following it with methodical scrupulosity and an almost religious attention to its final consequences.
In order to produce digestion artificially, they piled up meat in a bottle, in which was the gastric juice of a duck, and they carried it under their armpits for a fortnight, without any other result save making their persons smell unpleasantly. You might have seen them running along the highroad in wet clothes under a burning sun. This was for the purpose of determining whether thirst is quenched by the application of water to the epidermis. They came back out of breath, both of them having caught cold.
Experiments in hearing, speech, and vision were then made in a lively fashion; but Bouvard made a show-off on the subject of generation.
Pecuchet's reserve with regard to this question had always surprised him. His friend's ignorance appeared to him so complete that Bouvard pressed him for an explanation, and Pecuchet, colouring, ended by making an avowal.
Some rascals had on one occasion dragged him into a house of ill-fame, from which he made his escape, preserving himself for the woman whom he might fall in love with later on. A fortunate﻿PECUCHET
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opportunity had never come to him, so that, what with bashfulness, limited means, obstinacy, the force of custom, at fifty-two years, and in spite of his residence in the capital, he still possessed his virginity.
Bouvard found difficulty in believing it; then he laughed hugely, but stopped on perceiving tears in Pecuchet's eyes—for he had not been without attachments, having by turns been smitten by a rope-dancer, the sister-in-law of an architect, a barmaid, and a young washerwoman; and the marriage had even been arranged when he had discovered that she was going to have a child by another man.
Bouvard said to him :
" There is always a way to make up for lost time. Come—no sadness ! I will take it on myself, if you like."
Pecuchet answered, with a sigh, that he need not think any more about it; and they went on with their physiology.
Is it true that the surfaces of our bodies are always letting out a subtle vapour ? The proof of it is that the weight of a man is decreasing every minute. If each day what is wanting is added and what is excessive subtracted, the health would be kept in perfect equilibrium. Sanctorius, the discoverer of this law, spent half a century weighing his food every day together with its excretions, and took the weights himself, giving himself no rest, save for the purpose of writing down his computations.﻿92
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They tried to imitate Sanctorius ; but, as their scales could not bear the weight of both of them, it was Pecuchet who commenced.
He took his clothes off, in order not to impede the perspiration, and he stood on the platform of the scales perfectly naked, exposing to view, in spite of his modesty, his unusually long torso, resembling a cylinder, together with his short legs and his brown skin. Beside him, on his chair, his friend read for him :
" ' Learned men maintain that animal heat is developed by the contractions of the muscles, and that it is possible by moving the thorax and the pelvic regions to raise the temperature of a warm bath.' "
Bouvard went to look for their bathing-tub, and, when everything was ready, plunged into it, provided with a thermometer. The wreckage of the distillery, swept towards the end of the room, presented in the shadow the indistinct outlines of a hillock. Every now and then they could hear the mice nibbling; there was a stale odour of aromatic plants, and finding it rather agreeable, they chatted serenely.
However, Bouvard felt a little cool.
" Move your members about! " said Pecuchet.
He moved them, without at all changing with the thermometer. " 'Tis decidedly cold."
" I am not hot either," returned Pecuchet, himself seized with a fit of shivering. " But move about your pelvic regions—move them about! "﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard spread open his thighs, wriggled his sides, balanced his stomach, puffed like a whale, then looked at the thermometer, which was always falling.
" I don't understand this at all! Anyhow, I am stirring myself! "
" Not enough ! "
And he continued his gymnastics.
This had gone on for three hours when once more he grasped the tube.
" What! twelve degrees ! Oh, good-night ! I'm off to bed ! "
A dog came in, half mastiff, half hound, mangy, with yellowish hair and lolling tongue.
What were they to do ? There was no bell, and their housekeeper was deaf. They were quaking, but did not venture to budge, for fear of being bitten.
Pecuchet thought it a good idea to hurl threats at him, and at the same time to roll his eyes about.
Then the dog began to bark; and he jumped about the scales, in which Pecuchet, by clinging on to the cords and bending his knees, tried to raise himself up as high as ever he could.
" You're getting your death of cold up there!" said Bouvard; and he commenced making smiling faces at the dog, while pretending to give him things.
The dog, no doubt, understood these advances. Bouvard went so far as to caress him, stuck the﻿94
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animal's paws on his shoulders, and rubbed them with his finger-nails.
" Hollo! look here! there, he's off with my breeches!"
The dog cuddled himself upon them, and lay quiet.
At last, with the utmost precautions, they ventured the one to come down from the platform of the scales, and the other to get out of the bathing-tub; and when Pecuchet had got his clothes on again, he gave vent to this exclamation:
" You, my good fellow, will be of use for our experiments."
What experiments ? They might inject phosphorus into him, and then shut him up in a cellar, in order to see whether he would emit fire through the nostrils.
But how were they to inject it ? and, furthermore, they would not get anyone to sell them phosphorus.	■
They thought of putting him under a pneumatic bell, of making him inhale gas, and of giving him poison to drink. All this, perhaps, would not be funny! Eventually, they thought the best thing they could do was to apply a steel magnet to his spinal marrow.
Bouvard, repressing his emotion, handed some needles on a plate to Pecuchet, who fixed them against the vertebrae. They broke, slipped, and fell on the ground. He took others, and quickly applied them at random. The dog burst his bonds, passed﻿PECUCHET
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like a cannon-ball through the window, ran across the yard to the vestibule, and presented himself in the kitchen.
Germaine screamed when she saw him soaked with blood, and twine round his paws.
Her masters, who had followed him, came in at the same moment. He made one spring and disappeared.
The old servant turned on them.
" This is another of your tomfooleries, I'm sure! And my kitchen, too ! It's nice! This perhaps will drive him mad! People are in jail who are not as bad as you! "
They got back to the laboratory in order to examine the magnetic needles.
Not one of them had the least particle of the filings drawn off.
Then Germaine's assumption made them uneasy. He might get rabies, come back unawares, and make a dash at them.
Next day they went making inquiries everywhere, and for many years they turned up a by-path whenever they saw in the open country a dog at all resembling this one.
Their other experiments were unsuccessful. Contrary to the statements in the text-books, the pigeons which they bled, whether their stomachs were full or empty, died in the same space of time. Kittens sunk under water perished at the end of five minutes; and a goose, which they had stuffed﻿96
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with madder, presented periostea that were perfectly white.
The question of nutrition pestered them.
How did it happen that the same juice is produced by bones, blood, lymph, and excrementitious materials ? But one cannot follow the metamorphoses of an article of food. The man who uses only one of them is chemically equal to him who absorbs several. Vauquelin, having made a calculation of all the lime contained in the oats given as food to a hen, found a greater quantity of it in the shells of her eggs. So, then, there takes place a creation of substance. In what way ? Nothing is known about it.
It is not even known what is the strength of the heart. Borelli says it is what is necessary for lifting a weight of one hundred and eighty thousand pounds, while Kiell estimates it at about eight ounces; and from this they drew the conclusion that physiology is—as a well-worn phrase expresses it—the romance of medicine. As they were unable to understand it, they did not believe in it.
A month slipped away in doing nothing. Then they thought of their garden. The dead tree, displayed in the middle of it, was annoying, and accordingly they squared it. This exercise fatigued them. Bouvard very often found it necessary to get the blacksmith to put his tools in order.
One day, as he was making his way to the forge, he was accosted by a man carrying a canvas﻿PECUCHET
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bag on his back, who offered to sell him almanacs, pious books, holy medals, and lastly, the " Health Manual" of Frangois Raspail.1
This little book pleased him so much that he wrote to Barberou to send him the large work. Barberou sent it on, and in his letter mentioned an apothecary's shop for the prescriptions given in the work.
The simplicity of the doctrine charmed them. All diseases proceed from worms. They spoil the teeth, make the lungs hollow, enlarge the liver, ravage the intestines, and cause noises therein. The best thing for getting rid of them is camphor. Bouvard and Pecuchet adopted it. They took it in snuff, they chewed it and distributed it in cigarettes, in bottles of sedative water and pills of aloes. They even undertook the care of a hunchback. It was a child whom they had come across one fair-day. His mother, a beggar woman, brought him to them every morning. They rubbed his hump with camphorated grease, placed there for twenty minutes a mustard poultice, then covered it over with diachylum, and, in order to make sure of his coming back, gave him his breakfast.
As his mind was fixed on intestinal worms, Pecuchet noticed a singular spot on Madame Bor-din's cheek. The doctor had for a long time been
1 Raspail, the author of the work here referred to, was called in to attend Gustave Flaubert's sister Caroline before her death in 1846.—Translator.
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treating it with bitters. Round at first as a twenty-sou piece, this spot had enlarged and formed a red circle. They offered to cure it for her. She consented, but made it a condition that the ointment should be applied by Bouvard. She took a seat before the window, unfastened the upper portion of her corset, and remained with her cheek turned up, looking at him with a glance of her eye which would have been dangerous were it not for Pecu-chet's presence. In the prescribed doses, and in spite of the horror felt with regard to mercury, they administered calomel. One month afterwards Madame Bordin was cured. She became a propagandist on their behalf, and the tax-collector, the mayor's secretary, the mayor himself, and everybody in Chavignolles sucked camphor by the aid of quills.
However, the hunchback did not get straight; the collector gave up his cigarette ; it stopped up his chest twice as much. Foureau made complaints that the pills of aloes gave him piles. Bouvard got a stomach-ache, and Pecuchet fearful headaches. They lost confidence in Raspail, but took care to say nothing about it, fearing that they might lessen their own importance.
They now exhibited great zeal about vaccine, learned how to bleed people over cabbage leaves, and even purchased a pair of lancets.
They accompanied the doctor to the houses of the poor, and then consulted their books. The symptoms noticed by the writers were not those﻿PECUCHET
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which they had just observed. As for the names of diseases, they were Latin, Greek, French—a medley of every language. They are to be counted by thousands; and Linnaeus's system of classification, with its genera and its species, is exceedingly convenient; but how was the species to be fixed ? Then they got lost in the philosophy of medicine. They raved about the life - principle of Van Helmont, vitalism, Brownism, organicism, inquired of the doctor whence comes the germ of scrofula, towards what point the infectious miasma inclines, and the means in all cases of disease to distinguish the cause from its effects.
" The cause and the effect are entangled in one another," replied Vaucorbeil.
His want of logic disgusted them—and they went by themselves to visit the sick, making their way into the houses on the pretext of philanthropy. At the further end of rooms, on dirty mattresses, lay persons with faces hanging on one side, others who had them swollen or scarlet, or lemon-coloured, or very violet-hued, with pinched nostrils, trembling mouths, rattlings in the throat, hiccoughs, perspirations, and emissions of leather or stale cheese.
They read the prescriptions of their physicians, and were surprised at the fact that anodynes are sometimes excitants, and emetics purgatives, that the same remedy suits different ailments, and that a malady may go away under opposite systems of treatment.
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Nevertheless, they gave advice, got on the moral hobby again, and had the assurance to auscultate. Their imagination began to ferment. They wrote to the King, in order that there might be established in Calvados an institute of nurses for the sick, of which they would be the professors.
They would go to the apothecary at Bayeux (the Falaise one had always a grudge against them on account of the jujube affair), and they gave him directions to manufacture, like the ancients, pila pur-gatoria, that is to say, medicaments in the shape of pellets, which, by dint of handling, become absorbed in the individual.
In accordance with the theory that by diminishing the heat we impede the watery humours, they suspended in her armchair to the beams of the ceiling a woman suffering from meningitis, and they were swinging her with all their force when the husband coming on the scene kicked them out. Finally, they scandalised the cure thoroughly by introducing the new fashion of thermometers in the hind-quarters.
Typhoid fever broke out in the neighbourhood. Bouvard declared that he would not have anything to do with it. But the wife of Gouy, their farmer, came groaning to them. Her man was a fortnight sick, and M. Vaucorbeil was neglecting him. Pecuchet devoted himself to the case.
Lenticular spots on the chest, pains in the joints, stomach distended, tongue red, these were all symptoms of dothienenteritis. Recalling the statement﻿PECUCHET
IOI
of Raspail that by taking away the regulation of diet the fever may be suppressed, he ordered broth and a little meat.
The doctor suddenly made his appearance. His patient was on the point of eating, with two pillows behind his back, between his wife and Pecuchet, who were sustaining him. He drew near the bed, and flung the plate out through the window, exclaiming :
" This is a veritable murder ! "
" Why ? "
" You perforate the intestine, since typhoid fever is an alteration of its follicular membrane."
" Not always ! "
And a dispute ensued as to the nature of fevers. Pecuchet believed that they were essential in themselves ; Vaucorbeil made them dependent on our bodily organs.
" Therefore, I remove everything that might excite them excessively."
"But regimen weakens the vital principle."
" What twaddle are you talking with your vital principle ? What is it ? Who has seen it ? "
Pecuchet got confused.
" Besides," said the physician, " Gouy does not want food."
The patient made a gesture of assent under his cotton nightcap.
" No matter, he requires it! "
" Not a bit! his pulse is at ninety-eight! "﻿102
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" What matters about his pulse ? " And Pecuchet proceeded to give authorities.
" Let systems alone ! " said the doctor. Pecuchet folded his arms. " So then you are an empiric ? "
" By no means; but by observing-"
" But if one observes badly ? " Vaucorbeil took this phrase for an allusion to Madame Bordin's skin eruption—a story about which the widow had made a great outcry, and the recollection of which irritated him.
" To start with, it is necessary to have practised." " Those who revolutionised the science did not practise—Van Helmont, Boerhaave, Broussais himself."
Without replying, Vaucorbeil stooped towards Gouy, and raising his voice:
" Which of us two do you select as your doctor ? " The patient, who was falling asleep, perceived angry faces, and began to blubber. His wife did not know either what answer to make, for the one was clever, but the other had perhaps a secret.
" Very well," said Vaucorbeil, " since you hesitate between a man furnished with a diploma-"
Pecuchet sneered. " Why do you laugh ? "
" Because a diploma is not always an argument." The doctor saw himself attacked in his means of livelihood, in his prerogative, in his social importance. His wrath gave itself full vent.﻿PECUCHET
IO3
" We shall see that when you are brought up before the courts for illegally practising medicine!" Then, turning round to the farmer's wife, "Get him killed by this gentleman at your ease, and I'm hanged if ever I come back to your house!"
And he dashed past the beech trees, shaking his walking-stick as he went.
When Pecuchet returned, Bouvard was himself in a very excited state. He had just had a visit from Foureau, who was exasperated about his piles. Vainly had he contended that they were a safeguard against every disease. Foureau, who would listen to nothing, had threatened him with an action for damages. He lost his head over it.
Pecuchet told him the other story, which he considered more serious, and was a little shocked at Bouvard's indifference.
Gouy, next day, had a pain in his abdomen. This might be due to the ingestion of the food. Perhaps Vaucorbeil was not mistaken. A physician, after all, ought to have some knowledge of this ! And a feeling of remorse took possession of Pecuchet. He was afraid lest he might turn out a homicide.
For prudence' sake they sent the hunchback away. But his mother cried a great deal at his losing the breakfast, not to speak of the infliction of having made them come every day from Barneval to Chavignolles.
Foureau calmed down, and Gouy recovered his﻿BOUVARD AND
strength. At the present moment the cure was certain. A success like this emboldened Pecuchet.
"If we studied obstetrics with the aid of one of these manikins-"
" Enough of manikins!"
" There are half-bodies made with skin invented for the use of students of midwifery. It seems to me that I could turn over the foetus!"
But Bouvard was tired of medicine.
" The springs of life are hidden from us, the ailments too numerous, the remedies problematical. No reasonable definitions are to be found in the authors of health, disease, diathesis, or even pus."
However, all this reading had disturbed their brains.
Bouvard, whenever he caught a cold, imagined he was getting inflammation of the lungs. When leeches did not abate a stitch in the side, he had recourse to a blister, whose action affected the kidneys. Then he fancied he had an attack of stone.
Pecuchet caught lumbago while lopping the elm trees, and vomited after his dinner—a circumstance which frightened him very much. Then, noticing that his colour was rather yellow, suspected a liver complaint, and asked himself, " Have I pains ?" and ended by having them.
Mutually becoming afflicted, they looked at their tongues, felt one another's pulses, made a change as to the use of mineral waters, purged themselves—﻿Mutually becoming afflicted, they looked at their tongues, felt one another's pulses.﻿﻿PECUCHET
and dreaded cold, heat, wind, rain, flies, and principally currents of air.
Pecuchet imagined that taking snuff was fatal. Besides, sneezing sometimes causes the rupture of an aneurism; and so he gave up the snuff-box altogether. From force of habit he would thrust his fingers into it, then suddenly become conscious of his imprudence.
As black coffee shakes the nerves, Bouvard wanted to give up his half cup; but he used to fall asleep after his meals, and was afraid when he woke up, for prolonged sleep is a foreboding of apoplexy.
Their ideal was Cornaro, that Venetian gentleman who by the regulation of his diet attained to an extreme old age. Without actually imitating him, they might take the same precautions ; and Pecuchet took down from his bookshelves a " Manual of Hygiene " by Doctor Morin.
" How had they managed to live till now ? "
Their favourite dishes were there prohibited. Ger-maine, in a state of perplexity, did not know any longer what to serve up to them.
Every kind of meat has its inconveniences. Puddings and sausages, red herrings, lobsters, and game are " refractory." The bigger a fish is, the more gelatine it contains, and consequently the heavier it is. Vegetables cause acidity, macaroni makes people dream ; cheeses, " considered generally, are difficult of digestion." A glass of water in the morning is " dangerous." Everything you eat or drink being accompanied by a similar warning, or rather by these﻿io6
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words: "Bad!" "Beware of the abuse of it!" " Does not suit everyone ! " Why bad ? Wherein is the abuse of it ? How are you to know whether a thing like this suits you ?
What a problem was that of breakfast! They gave up coffee and milk on account of its detestable reputation, and, after that, chocolate, for it is " a mass of indigestible substances." There remained, then, tea. But " nervous persons ought to forbid themselves the use of it completely." Yet Decker, in the seventeenth century, prescribed twenty decalitres1 of it a day, in order to cleanse the spongy parts of the pancreas.
This direction shook Morin in their estimation, the more so as he condemns every kind of headdress, hats, women's caps, and men's caps — a requirement which was revolting to Pecuchet.
Then they purchased Becquerel's treatise, in which they saw that pork is in itself " a good aliment," tobacco " perfectly harmless in its character," and coffee " indispensable to military men."
Up to that time they had believed in the un-healthiness of damp places. Not at all! Casper declares them less deadly than others. One does not bathe in the sea without refreshing one's skin. Begin wants people to cast themselves into it while they are perspiring freely. Wine taken neat after soup is considered excellent for the stomach ; Levy lays the blame on it of impairing the teeth. Lastly,
1 A decalitre contains over two gallons.—Translator.﻿PECUCHET
the flannel waistcoat—that safeguard, that preserver of health, that palladium cherished by Bouvard and inherent to Pecuchet, without any evasions or fear of the opinions of others—is considered unsuitable by some authors for men of a plethoric and sanguine temperament!
What, then, is hygiene ? " Truth on this side of the Pyrenees, error on the other side," M. Levy asserts ; and Becquerel adds that it is not a science.
So then they ordered for their dinner oysters, a duck, pork and cabbage, cream, a Pont l'Eveque cheese, and a bottle of Burgundy. It was an enfranchisement, almost a revenge ; and they laughed at Cornaro ! It was only an imbecile that could be tyrannised over as he had been ! What vile-ness to be always thinking about prolonging one's existence ! Life is only good on the condition that it is enjoyed.
" Another piece ? "
"Yes, I will."
"So will I."
" Your health."
"Yours."
" And let us laugh at the rest of the world."
They became elated. Bouvard announced that he wanted three cups of coffee, though he was not a military man. Pecuchet, with his cap over his ears, took pinch after pinch, and sneezed without fear ; and, feeling the need of a little champagne, they ordered Germaine to go at once to the wine-﻿io8
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shop to buy a bottle of it. The village was too far away; she refused. Pecuchet got indignant:
"I command you—understand!—I command you to hurry off there."
She obeyed, but, grumbling, resolved soon to have done with her masters; they were so incomprehensible and fantastic.
Then, as in former days, they went to drink their coffee and brandy on the hillock.
The harvest was just over, and the stacks in the middle of the fields rose in dark heaps against the tender blue of a calm night. Nothing was astir about the farms. Even the crickets were no longer heard. The fields were all wrapt in sleep.
The pair digested while they inhaled the breeze which blew refreshingly against their cheeks.
High above, the sky was covered with stars; some shone in clusters, others in a row, or rather alone, at certain distances from each other. A zone of luminous dust, extending from north to south, bifurcated above their heads. Amid these splendours there were vast empty spaces, and the firmament seemed a sea of azure with archipelagoes and islets.
" What a quantity ! " exclaimed Bouvard.
" We do not see all," replied Pecuchet. " Behind the Milky Way are the nebulae, and behind the nebulae, stars still; the most distant is separated from us by three millions of myriametres." 1 1 A myriametre is over six miles.—Translator.﻿PECUCHET
He had often looked into the telescope of the Place Vendome, and he recalled the figures.
" The sun is a million times bigger than the earth; Sirius is twelve times the size of the sun; comets measure thirty-four millions of leagues."
" 'Tis enough to make one crazy! " said Bouvard.
He lamented his ignorance, and even regretted that he had not been in his youth at the Polytechnic School.
Then Pecuchet, turning him in the direction of the Great Bear, showed him the polar star; then Cassiopeia, whose constellation forms a Y; Vega, of the Lyra constellation—all scintillating; and at the lower part of the horizon, the red Aldebaran.
Bouvard, with his head thrown back, followed with difficulty the angles, quadrilaterals, and pentagons, which it is necessary to imagine in order to make yourself at home in the sky.
Pecuchet went on:
" The swiftness of light is eighty thousand leagues per second; one ray of the Milky Way takes six centuries to reach us; so that a star at the moment we observe it may have disappeared. Several are intermittent; others never come back; and they change positions. Every one of them is in motion ; every one of them is passing on."
" However, the sun is motionless."
" It was believed to be so formerly. But today men of science declare that it rushes towards the constellation of Hercules ! "﻿1 IO
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This put Bouvard's ideas out of order—and, after a minute's reflection :
" Science is constructed according to the data furnished by a corner of space. Perhaps it does not agree with all the rest that we are ignorant of, which is much vaster, and which we cannot discover."
So they talked, standing on the hillock, in the light of the stars ; and their conversation was interrupted by long intervals of silence.
At last they asked one another whether there were men in the stars. Why not ? And as creation is harmonious, the inhabitants of Sirius ought to be gigantic, those of Mars of middle stature, those of Venus very small. Unless it should be everywhere the same thing. There are merchants up there, and gendarmes; they trade there ; they fight there ; they dethrone kings there.
Some shooting stars slipped suddenly, describing on the sky, as it were, the parabola of an enormous rocket.
" Stop ! " said Bouvard ; " here are vanishing worlds."
Pecuchet replied :
" If ours, in its turn, kicks the bucket, the citizens of the stars will not be more moved than we are now. Ideas like this may pull down your pride."
" What is the object of all this ? "﻿PECUCHET
III
" Perhaps it has no object."
" However-" And Pecuchet repeated two or
three times " however," without finding anything more to say.
" No matter. I should very much like to know how the universe is made."
" That ought to be in Buffon," returned Bou-vard, whose eyes were closing.
" I am not equal to any more of it. I am going to bed."
The " Epoques de la Nature" informed them that a comet by knocking against the sun had detached one portion of it, which became the earth. First, the poles had cooled ; all the waters had enveloped the globe; they subsided into the caverns; then the continents separated from each other, and the beasts and man appeared.
The majesty of creation engendered in them an amazement infinite as itself. Their heads got enlarged. They were proud of reflecting on such lofty themes.
The minerals ere long proved wearisome to them, and for distraction they sought refuge in the " Harmonies " of Bernardin de Saint-Pierre.
Vegetable and terrestrial harmonies, aerial, aquatic, human, fraternal, and even conjugal— every one of them is here dealt with, not omitting the invocations to Venus, to the Zephyrs, and to the Loves. They exhibited astonishment at fishes having fins, birds wings, seeds an envelope;﻿112
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full of that philosophy which discovers virtuous intentions in Nature, and regards her as a kind of St. Vincent de Paul, always occupied in performing acts of benevolence.
Then they wondered at her prodigies, the waterspouts, the volcanoes, the virgin forests ; and they bought M. Depping's work on the " Marvels and Beauties of Nature in France." Cantal possesses three of them, Herault five, Burgundy two—no more, while Dauphine reckons for itself alone up to fifteen marvels. But soon we shall find no more of them. The grottoes with stalactites are stopped up; the burning mountains are extinguished; the natural ice-houses have got heated; and the old trees in which they said mass are falling under the leveller's axe, or are on the point of dying.
Their curiosity next turned towards the beasts.
They re-opened their " Buffon," and got into ecstasies over the strange tastes of certain animals.
But all the books are not worth one personal observation. They hurried out into the farmyard, and asked the labourers whether they had seen bulls consorting with mares, pigs seeking after cows, and the males of partridges doing nasty things among themselves.
" Never in their lives." They thought such questions even a little queer for gentlemen of their age.
They took a fancy to try abnormal unions. The least difficult is that of the he-goat and the ewe.﻿PECUCHET
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Their farmer had not a he-goat in his possession ; a neighbour lent his, and, as it was the period of rutting, they shut the two beasts up in the press, concealing themselves behind the casks in order that the event might be quietly accomplished.
Each first ate his little heap of hay; then they ruminated; the ewe lay down, and she bleated continuously, while the he-goat, standing erect on his crooked legs, with his big beard and his drooping ears, fixed on her his eyes, which glittered in the shade.
At length, on the evening of the third day, they deemed it advisable to assist nature, but the goat, turning round on Pecuchet, hit him in the lower part of the stomach with his horns. The ewe, seized with fear, began turning about in the press as if in a riding-school. Bouvard ran after her, threw himself on top of her to hold her, and fell on the ground with both hands full of wool.
They renewed their experiments on hens and a drake, on a mastiff and a sow, in the hope that monsters might be the result, not understanding anything about the question of species.
This word denotes a group of individuals whose descendants reproduce themselves, but animals classed as of different species may possess the power of reproduction, while others comprised in the same species have lost the capacity. They flattered themselves that they would obtain clear ideas on this subject by studying the development
8﻿ii4
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of germs; and Pecuchet wrote to Dumouchel in order to get a microscope.
By turns they put on the glass surface hairs, tobacco, finger-nails, and a fly's claw, but they forgot the drop of water which is indispensable; at other times it was the little lamel, and they pushed one another forward, and put the instrument out of order; then, when they only saw a haze, they blamed the optician. They went so far as to have doubts about the microscope. Perhaps the discoveries that have been attributed to it are not so certain ?
Dumouchel, in sending on the invoice to them, begged of them to collect on his account some serpent-stones and sea-urchins, of which he had always been an admirer, and which were commonly found in country districts. In order to interest them in geology he sent them the "Lettres" of Bertrand with the " Discours" of Cuvier on the revolutions of the globe.
After the perusal of these two works they imagined the following state of things:
First, an immense sheet of water, from which emerged promontories speckled with lichens, and not one human being, not one sound. It was a world silent, motionless, and bare ; there long plants swayed to and fro in a fog that resembled the vapour of a sweating-room. A sun all red overheated the humid atmosphere. Then volcanoes burst forth ; the igneous rocks sent up mountains﻿PECUCHET
"5
of liquid flame, and the paste of the streaming porphyry and basalt began to congeal. Third picture: in shallow seas have sprung up isles of madrepore; a cluster of palm trees overhangs them here and there. There are shells like carriage wheels, tortoises three metres in length, lizards of sixty feet; amphibians stretch out amid the reeds their ostrich necks and crocodile jaws ; winged serpents fly about. Finally, on the large continents, huge mammifers make their appearance, their limbs misshapen, like pieces of wood badly squared, their hides thicker than plates of bronze, or else shaggy, thick-lipped, with manes and crooked fangs. Flocks of mammoths browsed on the plains where, since, the Atlantic has been; the paleotherium, half horse, half tapir, overturned with his tumbling the anthills of Montmartre ; and the " cervus giganteus " trembled under the chestnut trees at the growls of the bears of the caverns, who made the dog of Beaugency, three times as big as a wolf, yelp in his den.
All these periods had been separated from each other by cataclysms, of which the latest is our Deluge. It was like a drama of fairyland in several acts, with man for apotheosis.
They were astounded when they learned that there existed on stones imprints of dragon-flies and birds' claws; and, having run through one of the Roret manuals, they looked out for fossils.
One afternoon, as they were turning over some
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flints in the middle of the high - road, the cure passed, and, accosting them in a wheedling tone :
"These gentlemen are busying themselves with geology. Very good."
For he held this science in esteem. It confirmed the authority of the Scriptures by proving the fact of the Deluge.
Bouvard talked about coprolites, which are animals' excrements in a petrified state.
The Abbe Jeufroy appeared surprised at the matter. After all, if it were so, it was a reason the more for wondering at Providence.
Pecuchet confessed that, up to the present, their inquiries had not been fruitful; and yet the environs of Falaise, like all Jurassic soils, ought to abound in remains of animals.
" I have been told," replied the Abbe Jeufroy, " that the jawbone of an elephant was at one time found at Villers."
However, one of his friends, M. Larsoneur, advocate, member of the bar at Lisieux, and archaeologist, would probably supply them with information about it. He had written a history of Port-en-Bessin, in which the discovery of an alligator was noticed.
Bouvard and Pecuchet exchanged glances: the same hope took possession of both; and, in spite of the heat, they remained standing a long time, questioning the ecclesiastic, who sheltered himself from the sun under a blue cotton umbrella. The﻿PECUCHET
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lower part of his face was rather heavy, and his nose was pointed. He was perpetually smiling, or bent his head while he closed his eyelids.
The church-bell rang the Angelus.
" A very good evening, gentlemen ! You will allow me, will you not?"
At his suggestion they waited three weeks for Larsoneur's reply. At length it arrived.
The name of the man who had dug up the tooth of the mastodon was Louis Bloche. Details were wanting. As to his history, it was comprised in one of the volumes of the Lisieux Academy, and he could not lend out his own copy, as he was afraid of spoiling the collection. With regard to the alligator, it had been discovered in the month of November, 1825, under the cliff of the Hachettes at Sainte-Honorine, near Port-en-Bessin, in the arrondissement of Bayeux. His compliments followed.
The obscurity that enshrouded the mastodon provoked in Pecuchet's mind a longing to search for it. He would fain have gone to Villers forthwith.
Bouvard objected that, to save themselves a possibly useless and certainly expensive journey, it would be desirable to make inquiries. So they wrote a letter to the mayor of the district, in which they asked him what had become of one Louis Bloche. On the assumption of his death, his descendants or collateral relations might be able to﻿n8
BOUVARD AND
enlighten them as to his precious discovery, when he made it, and in what public place in the township this testimony of primitive times was deposited ? Were there any prospects of finding similar ones ? What was the cost of a man and a car for a day ?
And vainly did they make application to the deputy-mayor, and then to the first municipal councillor. They received no news from Villers. No doubt the inhabitants were jealous about their fossils —unless they had sold them to the English. The journey to the Hachettes was determined upon.
Bouvard and Pecuchet took the public conveyance from Falaise to Caen. Then a covered car brought them from Caen to Bayeux; from Bayeux, they walked to Port-en-Bessin.
They had not been deceived. There were curious stones alongside the Hachettes ; and, assisted by the directions of the innkeeper, they succeeded in reaching the strand.
The tide was low. It exposed to view all its shingles, with a prairie of sea-wrack as far as the edge of the waves. Grassy slopes cut the cliff, which was composed of soft brown earth that had hardened and become in its lower strata a rampart of greyish stone. Tiny streams of water kept flowing down incessantly, while in the distance the sea rumbled. It seemed sometimes to suspend its throbbing, and then the only sound heard was the murmur of the little springs.﻿PECUCHET
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They staggered over the sticky soil, or rather they had to jump over holes.
Bouvard sat down on a mound overlooking the sea and contemplated the waves, thinking of nothing, fascinated, inert. Pecuchet brought him over to the side of the cliff to show him a serpent-stone incrusted in the rock, like a diamond in its gangue. It broke their nails ; they would require instruments ; besides, night was coming on. The sky was empurpled towards the west, and the entire sea-shore was wrapt in shadow. In the midst of the blackish wrack the pools of water were growing wider. The sea was coming towards them. It was time to go back.
Next day, at dawn, with a mattock and a pick, they made an attack on their fossil, whose covering cracked. It was an " ammonite nodosus " corroded at the ends, but weighing quite six pounds; and in his enthusiasm Pecuchet exclaimed :
" We cannot do less than present it to Duraou-chel! "
They next chanced upon sponges, lampshells, orks—but no alligator. In default of it, they were hoping to get the backbone of a hippopotamus or an ichthyosaurus, the bones of any animals whatever that were contemporaneous with the Deluge, when they discovered against the cliff, at a man's height, outlines which assumed the form of a gigantic fish.
They deliberated as to the means by which they could get possession of it. Bouvard would extricate it at the top, while Pecuchet beneath would demolish﻿120
BOUVARD AND
the rock in order to make it descend gently without spoiling it.
Just as they were taking breath they saw above their heads a custom-house officer in a cloak, who was gesticulating with a commanding air.
" Well! What! Let us alone ! " And they went on with their work, Bouvard on the tips of his toes, tapping with his mattock, Pecuchet, with his back bent, digging with his pick.
But the custom-house officer reappeared lower down, in an open space between the rocks, making repeated signals. They treated him with contempt. An oval body bulged out under the thinned soil, and sloped down, was on the point of slipping.
Suddenly another individual, with a sabre, presented himself.
" Your passports ? "
It was the field-guard on his rounds, and, at the same instant, the man from the custom-house came up, having hastened through a ravine.
" Take them into custody for me, Pere Morin, or the cliff will fall in ! "
" It is for a scientific object," replied Pecuchet.
Then a mass of stone fell, grazing them all four so closely that a little more and they were dead men.
When the dust was scattered, they recognised the mast of a ship, which crumbled under the custom-house officer's boot.
Bouvard said with a sigh, " We did no great harm ! "﻿PECUCHET
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" One should not do anything within the fortification limits," returned the guard.
" In the first place, who are you, in order that I may take out a summons against you ? "
Pecuchet refused to give his name, cried out against such injustice.
" Don't argue ! follow me ! " As soon as they reached the port a crowd of ragamuffins ran after them. Bouvard, red as a poppy, put on an air of dignity; Pecuchet, exceedingly pale, darted furious looks around ; and these two strangers, carrying stones in their pocket-handkerchiefs, did not present a good appearance. Provisionally, they put them up at the inn, whose master on the threshold guarded the entrance. Then the mason came to demand back his tools. They were paying him for them, and still there were incidental expenses !—and the field-guard did not come back! Wherefore ? At last, a gentleman, who wore the cross of the Legion of Honour, set them free, and they went away, after having given their Christian names, surnames, and their domicile, with an undertaking on their part to be more circumspect in future.
Besides a passport, they were in need of many things, and before undertaking fresh explorations they consulted the " Geological Traveller's Guide," by Bone. It was necessary to have, in the first place, a good soldier's knapsack, then a surveyor's chain, a file, a pair of nippers, a compass, and﻿122
BOUVARD AND
three hammers, passed into a belt, which is hidden under the frock-coat, and " thus preserves you from that original appearance which one ought to avoid on a journey." As for the stick, Pecuchet freely adopted the tourist's stick, six feet high, with a long iron point. Bouvard preferred the walking-stick umbrella, or many-branched umbrella, the knob of which is removed in order to clasp on the silk, which is kept separately in a little bag. They did not forget strong shoes with gaiters, " two pairs of braces" each, " on account of perspiration," and, although one cannot present himself everywhere in a cap, they shrank from the expense of " one of those folding hats, which bear the name of 1 Gibus,' their inventor."
The same work gives precepts for conduct : " To know the language of the part of the country you visit ": they knew it. " To preserve a modest deportment": this was their custom. "Not to have too much money about you": nothing simpler. Finally, in order to spare yourself embarrassments of all descriptions, it is a good thing to adopt the " description of engineer."
" Well, we will adopt it."
Thus prepared, they commenced their excursions ; were sometimes eight days away, and passed their lives in the open air.
Sometimes they saw, on the banks of the Orne, in a rent, pieces of rock raising their slanting surfaces between some poplar trees and heather; or else they﻿PECUCHET
I23
were grieved by meeting, for the entire length of the road, nothing but layers of clay. In the presence of a landscape they admired neither the series of perspectives nor the depth of the backgrounds, nor the undulations of the green surfaces ; but that which was not visible to them, the underpart, the earth : and for them every hill was only a fresh proof of the Deluge.
To the Deluge mania succeeded that of erratic blocks. The big stones alone in the fields must come from vanished glaciers, and they searched for moraines and faluns.
They were several times taken for pedlars on account of their equipage; and when they had answered that they were " engineers," a dread seized them—the usurpation of such a title might entail unpleasant consequences.
At the end of each day they panted beneath the weight of their specimens; but they dauntlessly carried them off home with them. They were deposited on the doorsteps, on the stairs, in the bedrooms, in the dining-room, and in the kitchen ; and Germaine used to make a hubbub about the quantity of dust. It was no slight task, before pasting on the labels, to know the names of the rocks ; the variety of colours and of grain made them confuse argil and marl, granite and gneiss, quartz and limestone.
And the nomenclature plagued them. Why Devonian, Cambrian, Jurassic—as if the portions of the earth designated by these names were not﻿124
BOUVARD AND
in other places as well as in Devonshire, near Cambridge, and in the Jura ? It was impossible to know where you are there. That which is a system for one is for another a stratum, for a third a mere layer. The plates of the layers get intermingled and entangled in one another ; but Omalius d'Halloy warns you not to believe in geological divisions.
This statement was a relief to them ; and when they had seen coral limestones in the plain of Caen, phillades at Balleroy, kaolin at St. Blaise, and oolite everywhere, and searched for coal at Cartigny and for mercury at Chapelle-en-Juger, near St. Lo, they decided on a longer excursion: a journey to Havre, to study the fire-resisting quartz and the clay of Kimmeridge.
As soon as they had stepped out of the packet-boat they asked what road led under the lighthouses.
Landslips blocked up the way ; it was dangerous to venture along it.
A man who let out vehicles accosted them, and offered them drives around the neighbourhood— Ingouville, Octeville, Fecamp, Lillebonne, " Rome if it was necessary."
His charges were preposterous, but the name of Falaise had struck them. By turning off the main road a little, they could see litretat, and they took the coach that started from Fecamp to go to the farthest point first.
In the vehicle Bouvard and Pecuchet had a con-﻿PECUCHET
"5
versation with three peasants, two old women, and a seminarist, and did not hesitate to style themselves engineers.
They stopped in front of the bay. They gained the cliff, and, five minutes after, rubbed up against it to avoid a big pool of water which was advancing like a gulf stream in the middle of the sea-shore. Then they saw an archway which opened above a deep grotto; it was sonorous and very bright, like a church, with descending columns and a carpet of sea-wrack all along its stone flooring.
This work of nature astonished them, and as they went on their way collecting shells, they started considerations as to the origin of the world.
Bouvard inclined towards Neptunism; Pecuchet, on the contrary, was a Plutonist.
" The central fire had broken the crust of the globe, heaved up the masses of earth, and made fissures. It is, as it were, an interior sea, which has its flow and ebb, its tempests; a thin film separates us from it. We could not sleep if we thought of all that is under our heels. However, the central fire diminishes, and the sun grows more feeble, so much so that one day the earth will perish of refrigeration. It will become sterile; all the wood and all the coal will be converted into carbonic acid, and no life can subsist there."
" We haven't come to that yet," said Bouvard.
" Let us expect it," returned Pecuchet.
No matter, this end of the world, far away as﻿126
BOUVARD AND
it might be, made them gloomy ; and, side by side, they walked in silence over the shingles.
The cliff, perpendicular, a mass of white, striped with black here and there by lines of flint, stretched towards the horizon like the curve of a rampart five leagues wide. An east wind, bitter and cold, was blowing; the sky was grey ; the sea greenish and, as it were, swollen. From the highest points of rocks birds took wing, wheeled round, and speedily re-entered their hiding places. Sometimes a stone, getting loosened, would rebound from one place to another before reaching them.
Pecuchet continued his reflections aloud :
" Unless the earth should be destroyed by a cataclysm ! We do not know the length of our period. The central fire has only to overflow."
" However, it is diminishing."
" That does not prevent its explosions from having produced the Julia Island, Monte Nuovo, and many others."
Bouvard remembered having read these details in Bertrand.
" But such catastrophes do not happen in Europe."
" A thousand pardons ! Witness that of Lisbon. As for our own countries, the coal-mines and the fire-stone useful for war are numerous, and may very well, when decomposing, form the mouths of volcanoes. Moreover, the volcanoes always burst near the sea."
Bouvard cast his eyes over the waves, and﻿PECUCHET
I27
fancied he could distinguish in the distance a volume of smoke ascending to the sky.
" Since the Julia Island," returned Pecuchet, " has disappeared, the fragments of the earth formed by the same cause will perhaps have the same fate. An islet in the Archipelago is as important as Normandy and even as Europe."
Bouvard imagined Europe swallowed up in an abyss.
" Admit," said Pecuchet, " that an earthquake takes place under the British Channel: the waters rush into the Atlantic; the coasts of France and England, tottering on their bases, bend forward and reunite—and there you are ! The entire space between is wiped out."
Instead of answering, Bouvard began walking so quickly that he was soon a hundred paces away from Pecuchet. Being alone, the idea of a cataclysm disturbed him. He had eaten nothing since morning; his temples were throbbing. All at once the soil appeared to him to be shaking, and the cliff over his head to be bending forward at its summit. At that moment a shower of gravel rolled down from the top of it. Pecuchet observed him scampering off wildly, understood his fright, and cried from a distance :
" Stop! stop ! The period is not completed ! " And in order to overtake him he made enormous bounds with the aid of his tourist's stick, all the while shouting out:﻿128
BOUVARD AND
" The period is not completed ! The period is not completed ! "
Bouvard, in a mad state, kept running without stopping. The many-branched umbrella fell down, the skirts of his coat were flying, the knapsack was tossing on his back. He was like a tortoise with wings about to gallop amongst the rocks. One bigger than the rest concealed him from view.
Pecuchet reached the spot out of breath, saw nobody, then returned in order to gain the fields through a defile, which Bouvard, no doubt, had taken.
This narrow ascent was cut by four great steps in the cliff, as lofty as the heights of two men, and glittering like polished alabaster.
At an elevation of fifty feet Pecuchet wished to descend; but as the sea was dashing against him in front, he set about clambering up further. At the second turning, when he beheld the empty space, terror froze him. As he approached the third, his legs were becoming weak. Volumes of air vibrated around him, a cramp gripped his epigastrium ; he sat down on the ground, with eyes closed, no longer having consciousness of aught save the beatings of his own heart, which were suffocating him; then he flung his tourist's stick on the ground, and on his hands and knees resumed his ascent. But the three hammers attached to his belt began to press against his stomach; the stones with which he had crammed his pockets knocked﻿PECUCHET
against his sides; the peak of his cap blinded him; the wind increased in violence. At length he reached the upper ground, and there found Bouvard, who had ascended higher through a less difficult defile. A cart picked them up. They forgot all about Etretat.
The next evening, at Havre, while waiting for the packet-boat, they saw at the tail-end of a newspaper, a short scientific essay headed, " On the Teaching of Geology." This article, full of facts, explained the subject as it was understood at the period.
There had never been a complete cataclysm of the globe, but the same space has not always the same duration, and is exhausted more quickly in one place than in another. Lands of the same age contain different fossils, just as depositaries very far distant from each other enclose similar ones. The ferns of former times are identical with the ferns of to-day. Many contemporary zoophytes are found again in the most ancient layers. To sum up, actual modifications explain former convulsions. The same causes are always in operation ; Nature does not proceed by leaps; and the periods, Brogniart asserts, are, after all, only abstractions.
Cuvier's work up to this time had appeared to them surrounded with the glory of an aureola at the summit of an incontestable science. It was sapped. Creation had no longer the same discipline, and their respect for this great man diminished.
From biographies and extracts they learned something of the doctrines of Lamarck and GeofFroy Saint-Hilaire.
All that was contrary to accepted ideas, the authority of the Church.
9﻿i3°
BOUVARD AND
Bouvard experienced relief as if from a broken yoke. " I should like to see now what answer Citizen Jeufroy would make to me about the Deluge! "
They found him in his little garden, where he was awaiting the members of the vestry, who were to meet presently with a view to the purchase of a chasuble.
" These gentlemen wish for-? "
" An explanation, if you please." And Bouvard began, " What means, in Genesis, ' The abyss which was broken up,' and ' the cataracts of heaven ?' For an abyss does not get broken up, and heaven has no cataracts."
The abbe closed his eyelids, then replied that it was always necessary to distinguish between the sense and the letter. Things which shock you at first, turn out right when they are sifted.
" Very well, but how do you explain the rain which passed over the highest mountains—those that are two leagues in height. Just think of it! Two leagues !—a depth of water that makes two leagues !" And the mayor, coming up, added : " Bless my soul! What a bath ! " " Admit," said Bouvard, "that Moses exaggerates like the devil."
The cure had read Bonald, and answered : " I am ignorant of his motives; it was, no doubt, to inspire a salutary fear in the people of whom he was the leader."
" Finally, this mass of water—where did it come from ? "﻿PECUCHET
" How do I know ? The air was changed into water, just as happens every day."
Through the garden gate they saw M. Girbal, superintendent of taxes, making his way in, together with Captain Heurteaux, a landowner; and Bel-jambe, the innkeeper, appeared, assisting with his arm Langlois, the grocer, who walked with difficulty on account of his catarrh.
Pecuchet, without bestowing a thought on them, took up the argument:
" Excuse me, M. Jeufroy. The weight of the atmosphere, science demonstrates to us, is equal to that of a mass of water which would make a covering of ten metres1 around the globe. Consequently, if all the air that had been condensed fell down in a liquid state, it would augment very little the mass of existing waters."
The vestrymen opened their eyes wide, and listened.
The cure lost patience. " Will you deny that shells have been found on the mountains ? What put them there, if not the Deluge ? They are not accustomed, I believe, to grow out of the ground of themselves alone, like carrots!" And this joke having made the assembly laugh, he added, pressing his lips together : " Unless this be another discovery of science!"
i This would, roughly speaking, be about eleven yards.— Translator.
9—2﻿132
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Bouvard was pleased to reply by referring to the rising of mountains, the theory of Elie de Beaumont.
" Don't know him," returned the abbe.
Foureau hastened to explain : " He is from Caen. I have seen him at the Prefecture."
" But if your Deluge," Bouvard broke in again, " had sent shells drifting, they would be found broken on the surface, and not at depths of three hundred metres sometimes."
The priest fell back on the truth of the Scriptures, the tradition of the human race, and the animals discovered in the ice in Siberia.
"That does not prove that man existed at the time they did."
The earth, in Pecuchet's view, was much older. " The delta of the Mississippi goes back to tens of thousands of years. The actual epoch is a hundred thousand, at least. The lists of Manetho-"
The Count de Faverges appeared on the scene. They were all silent at his approach.
" Go on, pray. What were you talking about ? "
" These gentlemen are wrangling with me," replied the abbe."
" About what ? "
"About Holy Writ, M. le Comte."
Bouvard immediately pleaded that they had a right, as geologists, to discuss religion.
" Take care," said the count; " you know the phrase, my dear sir, ' A little science takes us away from it, a great deal leads us back to it' ? "﻿PECUCHET
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And in a tone at the same time haughty and paternal: "Believe me, you will come back to it! you will come back to it! "
" Perhaps so. But what were we to think of a book in which it is pretended that the light was created before the sun ? as if the sun were not the sole cause of light! "
" You forget the light which we call boreal," said the ecclesiastic.
Bouvard, without answering this point, strongly denied that light could be on one side and darkness on the other, that evening and morning could have existed when there were no stars, or that the animals made their appearance suddenly, instead of being formed by crystallisation.
As the walks were too narrow, while gesticulating, they trod on the flower - borders. Langlois took a fit of coughing.
The captain exclaimed: " You are revolutionaries ! "
Girbal: " Peace! peace ! " The priest: " What materialism ! " Foureau: "Let us rather occupy ourselves with our chasuble! "
" No! let me speak ! " And Bouvard, growing more heated, went on to say that man was descended from the ape !
All the vestrymen looked at each other, much amazed, and as if to assure themselves that they were not apes.﻿J34
BOUVARD AND
Bouvard went on: " By comparing the foetus of
a woman, of a bitch, of a bird, of a frog-"
"Enough ! "
" For my part, I go farther ! " cried Pecuchet. " Man is descended from the fishes ! "
There was a burst of laughter. But without being disturbed:
"The ' Telliamed'—an Arab book-"
" Come, gentlemen, let us hold our meeting." And they entered the sacristy. The two comrades had not given the Abbe Jeufroy such a fall as they expected ; therefore, Pecuchet found in him " the stamp of Jesuitism." His " boreal light," however, caused them uneasiness. They searched for it in Orbigny's manual.
" This is a hypothesis to explain why the vegetable fossils of Baffin's Bay resemble the Equatorial plants. We suppose, in place of the sun, a great luminous source of heat which has now disappeared, and of which the Aurora Borealis is but perhaps a vestige."
Then a doubt came to them as to what proceeds from man, and, in their perplexity, they thought of Vaucorbeil.
He had not followed up his threats. As of yore, he passed every morning before their grating, striking all the bars with his walking-stick one after the other.
Bouvard watched him, and, having stopped him, said he wanted to submit to him a curious point in anthropology.﻿PECUCHET
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" Do you believe that the human race is descended from fishes ? " " What nonsense ! " " From apes rather—isn't that so ? " " Directly, that is impossible ! " On whom could they depend ? For, in fact, the doctor was not a Catholic!
They continued their studies, but without enthusiasm, being weary of eocene and miocene, of Mount Jurillo, of the Julia Island, of the mammoths of Siberia and of the fossils, invariably compared in all the authors to " medals which are authentic testimonies," so much so that one day Bouvard threw his knapsack on the ground, declaring that he would not go any farther.
"Geology is too defective. Some parts of Europe are hardly known. As for the rest, together with the foundation of the oceans, we shall always be in a state of ignorance on the subject."
Finally, Pecuchet having pronounced the word " mineral kingdom " :
" I don't believe in it, this mineral kingdom, since organic substances have taken part in the formation of flint, of chalk, and perhaps of gold. Hasn't the diamond been charcoal; coal a collection of vegetables ? and by heating it to I know not how many degrees, we get the sawdust of wood, so that everything passes, everything goes to ruin, and everything is transformed. Creation is carried out in an undulating and fugitive fashion.﻿136
BOUVARD AND
Much better to occupy ourselves with something else."
He stretched himself on his back and went to sleep, while Pecuchet, with his head down and one knee between his hands, gave himself up to his own reflections.
A border of moss stood on the edge of a hollow path overhung by ash trees, whose slender tops quivered; angelica, mint, and lavender exhaled warm, pungent odours. The atmosphere was drovsy, and Pecuchet, in a kind of stupor, dreamed of the innumerable existences scattered around him—of the insects that buzzed, the springs hidden bereath the grass, the sap of plants, the birds in their nests, the wind, the clouds—of all Nature, without seeking to unveil her mysteries, enchanted by her power, lost in her grandeur.
"I'm thirsty! " said Bouvard, waking up.
" So am I. I would be glad to drink something."
" That's easy," answered a man who was passing by in his shirt-sleeves with a plank on his shoulder. And they recognised that vagabond to whom, an a former occasion, Bouvard had given a glass of wine. He seemed ten years younger, wore his hair foppishly curled, his moustache well waxed, and twisted his figure about in quite a Parisian fashbn. After walking about a hundred paces, he opened the gateway of a farmyard, threw down his pknk against the wall, and led them into a large kitchen.
" Melie! are you there, Melie ?"﻿PECUCHET
137
A young girl appeared. At a word from him she " drew some liquor" and came back to the table to serve "these gentlemen."
Her wheat-coloured head-bands fell over a cap of grey linen. Her worn dress of poor material fell down her entire body without a crease, and, with her straight nose and blue eyes, she had about her something dainty, rustic, and ingenuous.
" She's nice, eh ?" said the joiner, while she was bringing them the glasses. "You might take her for a lady dressed up as a peasant-girl, and yet able to do rough work! Poor little heart, come! When I'm rich I'll marry you!"
" You are always talking nonsense, Monsieur Gorju," she replied, in a soft voice, with a slightly drawling accent.
A stable boy came in to get some oats out of an old chest, and let the lid fall down so awkwardly that it made splinters of wood fly upwards.
Gorju declaimed against the clumsiness of all " these country fellows," then, on his knees in front of the article of furniture, he tried to put the piece in its place. Pecuchet, while offering to assist him, traced beneath the dust faces of notable characters.
It was a chest of the Renaissance period, with a twisted fringe below, vine branches in the corner, and little columns dividing its front into five portions. In the centre might be seen Venus-Anadyo-mene standing on a shell, then Hercules and Om-phale, Samson and Delilah, Circe and her swine,﻿i38
bouvard and
the daughters of Lot making their father drunk; and all this in a state of complete decay, the chest being worm-eaten, and even its right panel wanting.
Gorju took a candle, in order to give Pecuchet a better view of the left one, which exhibited Adam and Eve under a tree in Paradise in an attitude offensive to modesty.
Bouvard equally admired the chest.
" If you keep it they'll give it to you cheap."
They hesitated, thinking of the necessary repairs.
Gorju might do them, cabinet-making being a branch of his trade.
" Let us go. Come on."
And he dragged Pecuchet towards the fruit-garden, where Madame Castillon, the mistress, was spreading linen.
Melie, when she had washed her hands, took from where it lay beside the window her lace-frame, sat down in the broad daylight and worked.
The lintel of the door enclosed her like a picture-frame. The bobbins disentangled themselves under her fingers with a sound like the clicking of castanets. Her profile remained bent.
Bouvard asked her questions as to her family, the part of the country she came from, and the wages that she got.
She was from Ouistreham, had no relations alive, and earned seventeen shillings a month; in short, she pleased him so much that he wished to take her into his service to assist old Germaine.﻿PECUCHET
139
Pecuchet reappeared with the mistress of the farmhouse, and, while they went on with their bargaining, Bouvard asked Gorju in a very low tone whether the girl would consent to become their servant.
" Lord, yes."
" However," said Bouvard, " I must consult my friend."
The bargain had just been concluded, the price fixed for the chest being thirty-five francs. They were to come to an understanding about the repairs.
They had scarcely got out into the yard when Bouvard spoke of his intentions with regard to Melie.
Pecuchet stopped (in order the better to reflect), opened his snuff-box, took a pinch, and, wiping the snuff off his nose :
" Indeed, it is a good idea. Good heavens! yes ! why not ? Besides, you are the master."
Ten minutes afterwards, Gorju showed himself on the top of a ditch, and questioning them : " When do you want me to bring you the chest ? "
" To-morrow."
" And about the other question, have you both made up your minds ? "
" It's all right," replied Pecuchet.﻿IV
IX months later they had become archaeologists, and their house was like a
museum.
In the vestibule stood an old wooden
beam. The staircase was encumbered with the geological specimens, and an enor-
mous chain was stretched on the ground all along the corridor. They had taken off its hinges the door between the two rooms in which they did not sleep, and had condemned the outer door of the second in order to convert both into a single apartment.
As soon as you crossed the threshold, you came in contact with a stone trough (a Gallo-Roman sarcophagus) ; the ironwork next attracted your attention. Fixed to the opposite wall, a warming-pan looked down on two andirons and a hearthplate representing a monk caressing a shepherdess. On the boards all round, you saw torches, locks, bolts, and nuts of screws. The floor was rendered invisible beneath fragments of red tiles. A table in the centre exhibited curiosities of the rarest descrip-﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET	I4I
tion : the shell of a Cauchoise cap, two argil urns, medals, and a phial of opaline glass. An upholstered armchair had at its back a triangle worked with guipure. A piece of a coat of mail adorned the partition to the right, and on the other side sharp spikes sustained in a horizontal position a unique specimen of a halberd.
The second room, into which two steps led down, contained the old books which they had brought with them from Paris, and those which, on their arrival, they had found in a press. The leaves of the folding-doors had been removed hither.-They called it the library.
The back of the door was entirely covered by the genealogical tree of the Croixmare family. In the panelling on the return side, a pastel of a lady in the dress of the period of Louis XV. made a companion picture to the portrait of Pere Bouvard. The casing of the glass was decorated with a sombrero of black felt, and a monstrous galoche filled with leaves, the remains of a nest.
Two cocoanuts (which had belonged to Pecuchet since his younger days) flanked on the chimney-piece an earthenware cask on which a peasant sat astride. Close by, in a straw basket, was a little coin brought up by a duck.
In front of the bookcase stood a shell chest of drawers trimmed with plush. The cover of it supported a cat with a mouse in its mouth—a petrifaction from St. Allyre; a work-box, also of shell﻿142
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work, and on this box a decanter of brandy contained a Bon Chretien pear.
But the finest thing was a statue of St. Peter in the embrasure of the window. His right hand, covered with a glove of apple-green colour, was pressing the key of Paradise. His chasuble, ornamented with fleurs-de-luce, was azure blue, and his tiara very yellow, pointed like a pagoda. He had flabby cheeks, big round eyes, a gaping mouth, and a crooked nose shaped like a trumpet. Above him hung a canopy made of an old carpet in which you could distinguish two Cupids in a circle of roses, and at his feet, like a pillar, rose a butter-pot bearing these words in white letters on a chocolate ground : " Executed in the presence of H.R.H. the Duke of Angouleme at Noron, 3rd of October, 1847."
Pecuchet, from his bed, saw all these things in a row, and sometimes he went as far as Bouvard's room to lengthen the perspective.
One spot remained empty, exactly opposite to the coat of arms, that intended for the Renaissance chest. It was not finished; Gorju was still working at it, jointing the panels in the bakehouse, squaring them or undoing them.
At eleven o'clock he took his breakfast, chatted after that with Melie, and often did not make his appearance again for the rest of the day.
In order to have pieces of furniture in good style, Bouvard and Pecuchet went scouring the country. What they brought back was not suitable; but they﻿PECUCHET
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had come across a heap of curious things. Their first passion was a taste for articles of virtu ; then came the love of the Middle Ages.
To begin with, they visited cathedrals; and the lofty naves mirroring themselves in the holy-water fonts, the glass ornaments dazzling as hangings of precious stones, the tombs in the recesses of the chapels, the uncertain light of crypts—everything, even to the coolness of the walls, thrilled them with a shudder of joy, a religious emotion.
They were soon able to distinguish the epochs, and, disdainful of sacristans, they would say: " Ha ! a Romanesque apsis ! " " That's of the twelfth century ! " " Here we are falling back again into the flamboyant! "
They strove to interpret the sculptured symbols on the capitals, such as the two griffins of Marigny pecking at a tree in blossom ; Pecuchet read a satire in the singers with grotesque jaws which terminate the mouldings at Feugerolles; and as for the exuberance of the obscene man that covers one of the mullions at Herouville, that was a proof, according to Bouvard, of our ancestors' love of broad jokes.
They ended by not tolerating the least symptom of decadence. All was decadence, and they deplored vandalism, and thundered against badigeon.
But the style of a monument does not always agree with its supposed date. The semicircular arch of the thirteenth century still holds sway in Provence. The ogive is, perhaps, very ancient; and authors﻿i44
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dispute as to the anteriority of the Romanesque to the Gothic. This want of certainty disappointed them.
After the churches they studied fortresses—those of Domfront and Falaise. They admired under the gate the grooves of the portcullis, and, having reached the top, they first saw all the country around them, then the roofs of the houses in the town, the streets intersecting one another, the carts on the square, the women at the washhouse. The wall descended perpendicularly as far as the palisade; and they grew pale as they thought that men had mounted there, hanging on to ladders. They would have ventured into the subterranean passages but that Bouvard found an obstacle in his stomach and Pecuchet in his horror of vipers.
They wanted to make the acquaintance of the old manor-houses—Curcy, Bully, Fontenay, Lemarmion, Argonge. Sometimes a Carlovingian tower would show itself at the corner of some farm - buildings behind a heap of manure. The kitchen, garnished with stone benches, made them dream of feudal junketings. Others had a forbiddingly fierce aspect with their three enceintes still visible, their loopholes under the staircase, and their high turrets with pointed sides. Then they came to an apartment in which a window of the Valois period, chased so as to resemble ivory, let in the sun, which heated the grains of colza that strewed the floor. Abbeys were used as barns. The inscriptions on tombstones were effaced. In the midst of fields a gable-end remained﻿PECUCHET
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standing, clad from top to bottom in ivy which trembled in the wind.
A number of things excited in their breasts a longing to possess them—a tin pot, a paste buckle, printed calicoes with large flowerings. The shortness of money restrained them.
By a happy chance, they unearthed at Balleroy in a tinman's house a Gothic church window, and it was big enough to cover, near the armchair, the right side of the casement up to the second pane. The steeple of Chavignolles displayed itself in the distance, producing a magnificent effect. With the lower part of a cupboard Gorju manufactured a prie-dieu to put under the Gothic window, for he humoured their hobby. So pronounced was it that they regretted monuments about which nothing at all is known—such as the villa residence of the bishops of Seez.
" Bayeux," says M. de Caumont, " must have possessed a theatre." They searched for the site of it without success.
The village of Montrecy contained a meadow celebrated for the number of medals which chanced formerly to have been found there. They calculated on making a fine harvest in this place. The caretaker refused to admit them.
They were not more fortunate as to the connection which existed between a cistern at Falaise and the faubourg of Caen. Ducks which had been put in there reappeared at Vaucelles, quacking, " Can,
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can, can" — whence is derived the name of the town!
No step, no sacrifice, was too great for them.
At the inn of Mesnil-Villement, in 1816, M. Galeron got a breakfast for the sum of four sous. They took the same meal there, and ascertained with surprise that things were altered !
Who is the founder of the abbey of St. Anne ? Is there any relationship between Marin Onfroy, who, in the twelfth century, imported a new kind of potato, and Onfroy, governor of Hastings at the period of the Conquest ? How were they to procure L'Astucieuse Pythonisse, a comedy in verse by one Dutrezor, produced at Bayeux, and just now exceedingly rare ? Under Louis XIV., Herambert Dupaty, or Dupastis Herambert, composed a work which has never appeared, full of anecdotes about Argentan : the question was how to recover these anecdotes. What have become of the autograph memoirs of Madame Dubois de la Pierre, consulted for the unpublished history of L'Aigle by Louis Daspres, curate of St. Martin ? So many problems, so many curious points, to clear up.
But a slight mark often puts one on the track of an invaluable discovery.
Accordingly, they put on their blouses, in order not to put people on their guard, and, in the guise of hawkers, they presented themselves at houses, where they expressed a desire to buy up old papers. They were sold heaps of them. These included﻿PECUCHET
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school copybooks, invoices, newspapers that were out of date—nothing of any value.
At last Bouvard and Pecuchet addressed themselves to Larsoneur.
He was absorbed in Celtic studies, and while summarily replying to their questions put others to them.
Had they observed in their rounds any traces of dog-worship, such as are seen at Montargis, or any special circumstances with regard to the fires on St. John's night, marriages, popular sayings, etc. ? He even begged of them to collect for him some of those flint axes, then called " celtae," which the Druids used in their criminal holocausts.
They procured a dozen of them through Gorju, sent him the smallest of them, and with the others enriched the museum. There they walked with delight, swept the place themselves, and talked about it to all their acquaintances.
One afternoon Madame Bordin and M. Marescot came to see it.
Bouvard welcomed them, and began the demonstration in the porch.
The beam was nothing less than the old gibbet of Falaise, according to the joiner who had sold it, and who had got this information from his grandfather.
The big chain in the corridor came from the subterranean cells of the keep of Torteval. In the notary's opinion it resembled the boundary chains
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in front of the entrance-courts of manor-houses. Bouvard was convinced that it had been used in former times to bind the captives. He opened the door of the first chamber.
" What are all these tiles for ?" exclaimed Madame Bordin.
" To heat the stoves. But let us be a little regular, if you please. This is a tomb discovered in an inn where they made use of it as a horse-trough."
After this, Bouvard took up the two urns filled with a substance which consisted of human dust, and he drew the phials up to his eyes, for the purpose of showing the way the Romans used to shed tears in it.
"But one only sees dismal things at your house! "
Indeed, it was a rather grave subject for a lady. So he next drew out of a case several copper coins, together with a silver denarius.
Madame Bordin asked the notary what sum this would be worth at the present day.
The coat of mail which he was examining slipped out of his fingers; some of the links snapped.
Bouvard stifled his annoyance. He had even the politeness to unfasten the halberd, and, bending forward, raising his arms and stamping with his heels, he made a show of hamstringing a horse, stabbing as if with a bayonet and overpowering an enemy.﻿PECUCHET
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The widow inwardly voted him a rough customer.
She got into raptures over the shell chest of drawers.
The cat of St. Ally re much astonished her, the pear in the decanter not quite so much; then, when she came to the chimney-piece, " Ha! here's a hat that would need mending!"
Three holes, marks of bullets, pierced its brims.
It was the head-piece of a robber chief under the Directory, David de la Bazoque, caught in the act of treason, and immediately put to death.
" So much the better! They did right," said Madame Bordin.
Marescot smiled disdainfully as he gazed at the different objects. He did not understand this galoche having been the sign of a hosier, nor the purport of the earthenware cask—a common cider-keg—and, to be candid, the St. Peter was lamentable with his drunkard's physiognomy.
Madame Bordin made this observation:
" All the same, it must have cost you a good deal?"
" Oh! not too much, not too much."
A slater had given it to him for fifteen francs.
After this, she found fault on the score of propriety with the low dress of the lady in the powdered wig.
" Where is the harm," replied Bouvard, " when one possesses something beautiful?" And he added﻿BOUVARD AND
in a lower tone: " Just as you are yourself, I'm sure."
(The notary turned his back on them, and studied the branches of the Croixmare family.)
She made no response but began to play with her long gold chain. Her breasts swelled out the black taffeta of her corsage, and, with her eyelashes slightly drawn together, she lowered her chin like a turtle-dove bridling up; then, with an ingenuous air :
"What is this lady's name?" "It is unknown; she was one of the Regent's mistresses, you know; he who played so many pranks."
" I believe you; the memoirs of the time-"
And the notary, without giving her time to finish the sentence, deplored this example of a prince carried away by his passions. "But you are all like that!" The two gentlemen protested, and then followed a dialogue on women and on love. Marescot declared that there were many happy unions; sometimes even, without suspecting it, we have close beside us what we require for our happiness.
The allusion was direct. The widow's cheeks flushed scarlet; but, recovering her composure almost the next moment:
" We are past the age for folly, are we not, M. Bouvard ? "
" Ha ! ha ! For my part, I don't admit that."﻿﻿" Don't be afraid. It is I." And he entered, his head covered with a helmet—an iron pot with pointed ear-pieces.﻿PECUCHET
And he offered his arm to lead her towards the adjoining room.
"Be careful about the steps. All right? Now observe the church window."
They traced on its surface a scarlet cloak and two angels' wings. All the rest was lost under the leads which held in equilibrium the numerous breakages in the glass. The day was declining; the shadows were lengthening ; Madame Bordin had become grave.
Bouvard withdrew, and presently reappeared muffled up in a woollen wrapper, then knelt down at the prie-dieu with his elbows out, his face in his hands, the light of the sun falling on his bald patch; and he was conscious of this effect, for he said :
" Don't I look like a monk of the Middle Ages ? "
Then he raised his forehead on one side, with swimming eyes, and trying to give a mystical expression to his face. The solemn voice of Pecuchet was heard in the corridor :
" Don't be afraid. It is I." And he entered, his head covered with a helmet—an iron pot with pointed ear-pieces.
Bouvard did not quit the prie-dieu. The two others remained standing. A minute slipped away in glances of amazement.
Madame Bordin appeared rather cold to Pecuchet. However he wanted to know whether everything had been shown to them.﻿152
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" It seems to me so." And pointing towards the wall: " Ah ! pray excuse us ; there is an object here which we may restore in a moment."
The widow and Marescot thereupon took their leave.
The two friends conceived the idea of counterfeiting a competition. They set out on a race after one another; one giving the other the start. Pecuchet won the helmet.
Bouvard congratulated him upon it, and received praises from his friend on the subject of the wrapper.
Melie arranged it with cord, in the fashion of a gown. They took turns about in receiving visits.
They had visits from Girbal, Foureau, and Captain Heurteaux, and then from inferior persons—Langlois, Beljambe, their husbandmen, and even the servant-girls of their neighbours ; and, on each occasion, they went over the same explanations, showed the place where the chest would be, affected a tone of modesty, and claimed indulgence for the obstruction.
Pecuchet on these days wore the Zouave's cap which he had formerly in Paris, considering it more in harmony with an artistic environment. At a particular moment, he would put the helmet on his head, and incline it over the back of his neck, in order to have his face free. Bouvard did not forget the movement with the halberd; finally, with one glance, they would ask one another whether the﻿PECUCHET
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visitor was worthy of having " the monk of the Middle Ages " represented.
What a thrill they felt when M. de Faverges' carriage drew up before the garden gate ! He had only a word to say to them. This was the occasion of his visit:
Hurel, his man of business, had informed him that, while searching everywhere for documents, they had bought up old papers at the farm of Aubrye.
That was perfectly true.
Had they not discovered some letters of Baron de Gonneval, a former aide-de-camp of the Duke of Angouleme, who had stayed at Aubrye? He wished to have this correspondence for family reasons.
They had not got it in the house, but they had in their possession something which would interest him if he would be good enough to follow them into their library.
Never before had such well-polished boots creaked in the corridor. They knocked against the sarcophagus. He even went near smashing several tiles, moved an armchair about, descended two steps; and, when they reached the second chamber, they showed him under the canopy, in front of the St. Peter, the butter-pot made at Noron.
Bouvard and Pecuchet thought that the date might some time be of use. Through politeness, the nobleman inspected their museum. He kept repeating, " Charming ! very nice !" all the time giving his mouth little taps with the handle of his switch; and﻿154
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said that, for his part, he thanked them for having rescued those remains of the Middle Ages, an epoch of religious faith and chivalrous devotion. He loved progress, and would have given himself up like them to these interesting studies, but that politics, the General Council, agriculture, a veritable whirlwind, drove him away from them.
" After you, however, one would have merely gleanings, for soon you shall have captured all the curiosities of the department."
" Without vanity, we think so," said Pecuchet.
However, one might still discover some at Cha-vignolles; for example, there was, close to the cemetery wall in the lane, a holy-water basin buried under the grass from time immemorial.
They were pleased with the information, then exchanged a significant glance—" Is it worth the trouble ? "—but already the Count was opening the door.
Melie, who was behind it, fled abruptly.
As he passed out of the house into the grounds, he observed Gorju smoking his pipe with folded arms.
" You employ this fellow ? I would not put much confidence in him in a time of disturbance."
And M. de Fa verges sprang lightly into his tilbury.
Why did their servant-maid seem to be afraid of him ?
They questioned her, and she told them she had﻿PECUCHET
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been employed on his farm. She was that little girl who poured out drink for the harvesters when they came there two years before. They had taken her on as a help at the chateau, and dismissed her in consequence of false reports.
As for Gorju, how could they find fault with him ? He was very handy, and showed the utmost consideration for them.
Next day, at dawn, they repaired to the cemetery. Bouvard felt with his walking-stick at the spot indicated. They heard the sound of a hard substance. They pulled up some nettles, and discovered a stone basin, a baptismal font, out of which plants were spouting. It is not usual, however, to bury baptismal fonts outside churches.
Pecuchet made a sketch of it; Bouvard wrote out a description of it; and they sent both to Lar-soneur. His reply came immediately.
" Victory, my dear associates ! Unquestionably, it is a druidical bowl! "
However, let them be careful about the matter. The axe was doubtful; and as much for his sake as for their own, he pointed out a series of works to be consulted.
In a postscript, Larsoneur confessed his longing to have a look at this bowl, which opportunity would be afforded him in a few days, when he would be starting on a trip from Brittany.
Then Bouvard and Pecuchet plunged into Celtic archaeology.﻿i56
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According to this science the ancient Gauls, our ancestors, adored Kirk and Kron, Taranis Esus, Nelalemnia, Heaven and Earth, the Wind, the Waters, and, above all, the great Teutates, who is the Saturn of the Pagans; for Saturn, when he reigned in Phoenicia, wedded a nymph named Ano-bret, by whom he had a child called Jeud. And Anobret presents the same traits as Sara; Jeud was sacrificed (or near being so), like Isaac ; therefore, Saturn is Abraham; whence the conclusion must be drawn that the religion of the Gauls had the same principles as that of the Jews.
Their society was very well organised. The first class of persons amongst them included the people, the nobility, and the king; the second, the jurisconsults ; and in the third, the highest, were ranged, according to Taillepied, "the various kinds of philosophers," that is to say, the Druids or Saronides, themselves divided into Eubages, Bards, and Vates.
One section of them prophesied, another sang, while a third gave instruction in botany, medicine, history, and literature, in short, " all the arts of their time."
Pythagoras and Plato were their pupils. They taught metaphysics to the Greeks, sorcery to the Persians, aruspicy to the Etruscans, and to the Romans the plating of copper and the traffic in hams.
But of this people, who ruled the ancient world, there remain only stones either isolated or in groups﻿PECUCHET
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of three, or placed together so as to resemble a rude chamber, or forming enclosures.
Bouvard and Pecuchet, filled with enthusiasm, studied in succession the stone on the Post-farm at Ussy, the Coupled Stone at Quest, the Standing Stone near L'Aigle, and others besides !
All these blocks, of equal insignificance, speedily bored them; and one day, when they had just seen the menhir at Passais, they were about to return from it when their guide led them into a beech wood, which was blocked up with masses of granite, like pedestals or monstrous tortoises. The most remarkable of them is hollowed like a basin. One of its sides rises up, and at the further end two channels run down to the ground ; this must have been for the flowing of blood—impossible to doubt it ! Chance does not make these things.
The roots of the trees were intertwined with these rugged pedestals. In the distance rose columns of fog like hugh phantoms. It was easy to imagine under the leaves the priests in golden tiaras and white robes, and their human victims with arms bound behind their backs, and at the side of the bowl the druidess watching the red stream, whilst around her the multitude yelled, to the accompaniment of cymbals and of trumpets made from the horns of the wild bull.
Immediately they decided on their plan. And one night, by the light of the moon, they took the road to the cemetery, stealing in like thieves,﻿i58
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in the shadows of the houses. The shutters were fastened, and quiet reigned around every dwelling-place ; not a dog barked.
Gorju accompanied them. They set to work. All that could be heard was the noise of stones knocking against the spade as it dug through the soil.
The vicinity of the dead was disagreeable to them. The church clock struck with a rattling sound, and the rosework on its tympanum looked like an eye espying a sacrilege. At last they carried off the bowl.
They came next morning to the cemetery to see the traces of the operation.
The abbe, who was taking the air at his door, begged of them to do him the honour of a visit, and, having introduced them into his breakfast-parlour, he gazed at them in a singular fashion.
In the middle of the sideboard, between the plates, there was a soup - tureen decorated with yellow bouquets.
Pecuchet praised it, at a loss for something to say.
" It is old Rouen," returned the cure ; " an heirloom. Amateurs set a high value on it— M. Marescot especially." As for him, thank God, he had no love of curiosities ; and, as they appeared not to understand, he declared that he had seen them himself stealing the baptismal font.
The two archaeologists were quite abashed. The article in question was not in actual use.﻿PECUCHET
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No matter ! they should give it back.
No doubt! But, at least, let them be permitted to get a painter to make a drawing of it.
" Be it so, gentlemen."
" Between ourselves, is it not ? " said Bouvard, " under the seal of confession."
The ecclesiastic, smiling, reassured them with a gesture.
It was not he whom they feared, but rather Larsoneur. When he would be passing through Chavignolles, he would feel a hankering after the bowl; and his chatterings might reach the ears of the Government. Out of prudence they kept it hidden in the bakehouse, then in the arbour, in the trunk, in a cupboard. Gorju was tired of dragging it about.
The possession of such a rare piece of furniture bound them the closer to the Celticism of Normandy.
Its sources are Egyptian. Seez, in the department of the Orne, is sometimes written Sai's, like the city of the Delta. The Gauls swore by the bull, an idea derived from the bull Apis. The Latin name of Bellocastes, which was that of the people of Bayeux, comes from Beli Casa, dwelling, sanctuary of Belus — Belus and Osiris, the same divinity !
" There is nothing," says Mangou de la Londe, " opposed to the idea that druidical monuments existed near Bayeux." " This country," adds M.﻿i6o
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Roussel, " is like the country in which the Egyptians built the temple of Jupiter Ammon."
So then there was a temple in which riches were shut up. All the Celtic monuments contain them.
"In 1715," relates Dom Martin, "one Sieur Heribel exhumed in the vicinity of Bayeux, several argil vases full of bones, and concluded (in accordance with tradition and authorities which had disappeared) that this place, a necropolis, was the Mount Faunus in which the Golden Calf is buried."
In the first place where is Mount Faunus ? The authors do not point it out. The natives know nothing about it. It would be necessary to devote themselves to excavations, and with that view they forwarded a petition to the prefect, to which they got no response.
Perhaps Mount Faunus had disappeared, and was not a hill but a barrow ?
Several of them contain skeletons which have the position of the foetus in the mother's womb. This meant that for them the tomb was, as it were, a second gestation, preparing them for another life. Therefore the barrow symbolises the female organ, just as the raised stone is the male organ.
In fact, where menhirs are found, an obscene creed has persisted. Witness what took place at Guerande, at Chichebouche, at Croissic, at Livarot. In former times the towers, the pyramids, the wax tapers, the boundaries of roads, and even the trees had a phallic meaning. They collected whipple-trees﻿PECUCHET
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of carriages, legs of armchairs, bolts of cellars, apothecaries' pestles. When people came to see them they would ask, " What do you think that is like ? " and then they would confide the secret. And, if anyone uttered an exclamation, they would shrug their shoulders in pity.
One evening as they were dreaming about the dogmas of the Druids, the abbe cautiously stole in.
Immediately they showed the museum, commencing with the church window ; but they longed to reach the new compartment—that of the phallus. The ecclesiastic stopped them, considering the exhibition indecent. He came to demand back his baptismal font.
Bouvard and Pecuchet begged for another fortnight, the time necessary for taking a moulding of it.
" The sooner the better," said the abbe.
Then he chatted on general topics.
Pecuchet, who had left the room a minute, on coming back slipped a napoleon into his hand.
The priest made a backward movement.
" Oh ! for your poor ! "
And, colouring, M. Jeufroy crammed the gold piece into his cassock.
To give back the bowl, the bowl for sacrifices ! Never, while they lived! They were even anxious to learn Hebrew, which is the mother - tongue of Celtic, unless indeed the former language be derived from it! And they had planned a journey into Brittany, commencing with Rennes, where they
ii﻿BOUVARD AND
had an appointment with Larsoneur, with a view to studying that urn mentioned in the Memorials of the Celtic Academy, which appeared to have contained the ashes of Queen Artimesia, when the mayor entered unceremoniously with his hat on, like the boorish individual that he was.
" All this won't do, my fine fellows ! You must give it up ! "
" What, pray ? "
" Rogues! I know well you are concealing it! "
Someone had betrayed them.
They replied that they had the cure's permission to keep it.
" We'll soon see that! "
Foureau went away. An hour later he came back.
They were obstinate.
In the first place, this holy-water basin was not wanted, as it really was not a holy-water basin at all. They would prove this by a vast number of scientific reasons. Next, they offered to acknowledge in their will that it belonged to the parish. They even proposed to buy it.
" And, besides, it is my property," Pecuchet asseverated.
The twenty francs accepted by M. Jeufroy furnished a proof of the contract, and if he compelled them to go before a justice of the peace, so much the worse : he would be taking a false oath !
During these disputes he had again seen the﻿PECUCHET
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soup-tureen many times, and in his soul had sprung up the desire, the thirst for possession of this piece of earthenware. If the cure was willing to give it to him, he would restore the bowl, otherwise not.
Through weariness or fear of scandal, M. Jeufroy yielded it up. It was placed amongst their collection near the Cauchoise cap. The bowl decorated the church porch; and they consoled themselves for the loss of it with the reflection that the people of Chavignolles were ignorant of its value.
But the soup-tureen inspired them with a taste for earthenware—a new subject for study and for explorations through the country.
It was the period when persons of good position were looking out for old Rouen dishes. The notary possessed a few of them, and derived from the fact, as it were, an artistic reputation which was prejudicial to his profession, but for which he made up by the serious side of his character.
When he learned that Bouvard and Pecuchet had got the soup-tureen, he came to propose to them an exchange.
Pecuchet would not consent to this.
" Let us say no more about it! " and Marescot proceeded to examine their ceramic collection.
All the specimens hung up along the wall were blue on a background of dirty white, and some showed their horn of plenty in green or reddish tones. There were shaving - dishes, plates and saucers, objects long sought for, and brought back
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in the recesses of one's frock-coat close to one's heart.
Marescot praised them, and then talked about other kinds of faience, the Hispano-Arabian, the Dutch, the English, and the Italian, and having dazzled them with his erudition:
" Might I see your soup-tureen again ? "
He made it ring by rapping on it with his fingers, then he contemplated the two S's painted on the lid.
"The mark of Rouen!" said Pecuchet.
" Ho ! ho ! Rouen, properly speaking, would not have any mark. When Moutiers was unknown, all the French faience came from Nevers. So with Rouen to-day. Besides, they imitate it to perfection at Elbceuf."
" It isn't possible!"
" Majolica is cleverly imitated. Your specimen is of no value; and as for me, I was about to do a downright foolish thing."
When the notary had gone, Pecuchet sank into an armchair in a state of nervous prostration.
" We shouldn't have given back the bowl," said Bouvard; " but you get excited, and always lose your head."
" Yes, I do lose my head "; and Pecuchet, snatching up the soup-tureen, flung it some distance away from him against the sarcophagus.
Bouvard, more self-possessed, picked up the broken pieces one by one; and some time after-﻿PECUCHET
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wards this idea occurred to him: " Marescot, through jealousy, might have been making fools of us!"
" How ? "
" There's nothing to show me that the soup-tureen was not genuine! Whereas the other specimens which he pretended to admire are perhaps counterfeit."
And so the day closed with uncertainties and regrets.
This was no reason for abandoning their tour into Brittany.
They even purposed to take Gorju along with them to assist them in their excavations.
For some time past, he had slept at the house, in order to finish the more quickly the repairing of the chest.
The prospect of a change of place annoyed him, and when they talked about menhirs and barrows which they calculated on seeing: "I knew better ones," said he to them; " in Algeria, in the South, near the sources of Bou-Mursoug, you meet quantities of them." He then gave a description of a tomb which chanced to be open right in front of him, and which contained a skeleton squatting like an ape with its two arms around its legs.
Larsoneur, when they informed him of the circumstance, would not believe a word of it.
Bouvard sifted the matter, and started the question again.﻿i66
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How does it happen that the monuments of the Gauls are shapeless, whereas these same Gauls were civilised in the time of Julius Caesar ? No doubt they were traceable to a more ancient people.
Such a hypothesis, in Larsoneur's opinion, betrayed a lack of patriotism.
No matter; there is nothing to show that these monuments are the work of Gauls. " Show us a text!"
The Academician was displeased, and made no reply; and they were very glad of it, so much had the Druids bored them.
If they did not know what conclusion to arrive at as to earthenware and as to Celticism, it was because they were ignorant of history, especially the history of France.
The work of Anquetil was in their library; but the series of "do-nothing kings" amused them very little. The villainy of the mayors of the Palace did not excite their indignation, and they gave Anquetil up, repelled by the ineptitude of his reflections.
Then they asked Dumouchel, " What is the best history of France ? "
Dumouchel subscribed, in their names, to a circulating library, and forwarded to them the work of Augustin Thierry, together with two volumes of M. de Genoude.
According to Genoude, royalty, religion, and the national assemblies—here are " the principles " of the French nation, which go back to the Mero-﻿PECUCHET
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vingians. The Carlovingians fell away from them. The Capetians, being in accord with the people, made an effort to maintain them. Absolute power was established under Louis XIII., in order to conquer Protestantism, the final effort of feudalism; and '89 is a return to the constitution of our ancestors.
Pecuchet admired his ideas. They excited Eouvard's pity, as he had read Augustin Thierry first: " What trash you talk with your French nation ! seeing that France did not exist! nor the national assemblies! and the Carlovingians usurped nothing at all! and the kings did not set free the communes! Read for yourself."
Pecuchet gave way before the evidence, and surpassed him in scientific strictness. He would have considered himself dishonoured if he had said " Charlemagne" and not " Karl the Great," " Clovis " in place of " Clodowig."
Nevertheless he was beguiled by Genoude, deeming it a clever thing to join together both ends of French history, so that the middle period becomes rubbish; and, in order to ease their minds about it, they took up the collection of Buchez and Roux.
But the fustian of the preface, that medley of Socialism and Catholicism, disgusted them; and the excessive accumulation of details prevented them from grasping the whole.
They had recourse to M. Thiers.﻿i68
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It was during the summer of 1845, in the garden beneath the arbour. Pecuchet, his feet resting on a small chair, read aloud in his cavernous voice, without feeling tired, stopping to plunge his fingers into his snuff-box. Bouvard listened, his pipe in his mouth, his legs wide apart, and the upper part of his pantaloons unbuttoned.
Old men had spoken to them of '93, and recollections that were almost personal gave life to the prosy descriptions of the author. At that time the high-roads were covered with soldiers singing the " Marseillaise." At the thresholds of doors women sat sewing canvas to make tents. Sometimes came a wave of men in red caps, bending forward a pike, at the end of which could be seen a discoloured head with the hair hanging down. The lofty tribune of the Convention looked down upon a cloud of dust, amid which wild faces were yelling cries " Death! " Anyone who passed, at midday, close to the basin of the Tuileries could hear each blow of the guillotine, like the cutting-up of a sheep.
And the breeze moved the vine-leaves of the arbour; the ripe barley swayed at intervals; a blackbird was singing. And, casting glances around, them, they relished this tranquil scene.
What a pity that from the commencement they failed to understand one another ! For if the royalists had reflected like the patriots, if the court had exhibited more candour, and its adversaries less violence, many of the calamities would not have happened.﻿PECUCHET
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By force of chattering in this way they roused themselves into a state of excitement. Bouvard, being liberal-minded and of a sensitive nature, was a Constitutionalist, a Girondist, a Thermidorian; Pecuchet, being of a bilious temperament and a lover of authority, declared himself a sans-culotte, and even a Robespierrist. He expressed approval of the condemnation of the King, the most violent decrees, the worship of the Supreme Being. Bouvard preferred that of Nature. He would have saluted with pleasure the image of a big woman pouring out from her breasts to her adorers not water but Chambertin.
In order to have more facts for the support of their arguments they procured other works, Mont-gaillard, Prudhomme, Gallois, Lacretelle, etc.; and the contradictions of these books in no way embarrassed them. Each took from them what might vindicate the cause that he espoused.
Thus Bouvard had no doubt that Danton accepted a hundred thousand crowns to bring forward motions that would destroy the Republic; while in Pecuchet's opinion Vergniaud would have asked for six thousand francs a month.
" Never! Explain to me, rather, why Robespierre's sister had a pension from Louis XVIII."
" Not at all! It was from Bonaparte. And, since you take it that way, who is the person that a few months before Egalite's death had a secret conference with him ? I wish they would reinsert in the ' Memoirs of La Campan' the suppressed﻿BOUVARD AND
paragraphs. The death of the Dauphin appears to me equivocal. The powder magazine at Grenelle by exploding killed two thousand persons. The cause was unknown, they tell us : what nonsense ! " For Pecuchet was not far from understanding it, and threw the blame for every crime on the manoeuvres of the aristocrats, gold, and the foreigner.
In the mind of Bouvard there could be no dispute as to the use of the words, " Ascend to heaven, son of St. Louis," as to the incident about the virgins of Verdun, or as to the culottes clothed in human skin. He accepted Prudhomme's lists, a million of victims, exactly.
But the Loire, red with gore from Saumur to Nantes, in a line of eighteen leagues, made him think. Pecuchet in the same degree entertained doubts, and they began to distrust the historians.
For some the Revolution is a Satanic event; others declare it to be a sublime exception. The vanquished on each side naturally play the part of martyrs.
Thierry demonstrates, with reference to the Barbarians, that it is foolish to institute an inquiry as to whether such a prince was good or was bad. Why not follow this method in the examination of more recent epochs ? But history must needs avenge morality: we feel grateful to Tacitus for having lacerated Tiberius. After all, whether the Queen had lovers ; whether Dumouriez, since Valmy, intended to betray her ; whether in﻿PECUCHET
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Prairial it was the Mountain or the Girondist party that began, and in Thermidor the Jacobins or the Plain; what matters it to the development of the Revolution, of which the causes were far to seek and the results incalculable ?
Therefore it was bound to accomplish itself, to be what it was; but, suppose the flight of the King without impediment, Robespierre escaping or Bonaparte assassinated—chances which depended upon an innkeeper proving less scrupulous, a door being left open, or a sentinel falling asleep—and the progress of the world would have taken a different direction.
They had no longer on the men and the events of that period a single well-balanced idea. In order to form an impartial judgment upon it, it would have been necessary to have read all the histories, all the memoirs, all the newspapers, and all the manuscript productions, for through the least omission might arise an error, which might lead to others without limit.
They abandoned the subject. But the taste for history had come to them, the need of truth for its own sake.
Perhaps it is easier to find it in more ancient epochs ? The authors, being far removed from the events, ought to speak of them without passion. And they began the good Rollin.
" What a heap of rubbish ! " exclaimed Bouvard, after the first chapter.
" Wait a bit," said Pecuchet, rummaging at the end of their library, where lay heaped up the books﻿172
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of the last proprietor, an old lawyer, an accomplished man with a mania for literature ; and, having put out of their places a number of novels and plays, together with an edition of Montesquieu and translations of Horace, he obtained what he was looking for—Beaufort's work on Roman History.
Titus Livius attributes the foundation of Rome to Romulus; Sallust gives the credit of it to the Trojans under ^Eneas. Coriolanus died in exile, according to Fabius Pictor; through the stratagems of Attius Tullius, if we may believe Dionysius. Seneca states that Horatius Codes came back victorious ; and Dionysius that he was wounded in the leg. And La Mothe le Vayer gives expression to similar doubts with reference to other nations.
There is no agreement as to the antiquity of the Chaldeans, the age of Homer, the existence of Zoroaster, the two empires of Assyria. Quintus Curtius has manufactured fables. Plutarch gives the lie to Herodotus. We should have a different idea of Caesar if Vercingetorix had written his Commentaries.
Ancient history is obscure through want of documents. There is an abundance of them in modern history; and Bouvard and Pecuchet came back to France, and began Sismondi.
The succession of so many men filled them with a desire to understand them more thoroughly, to enter into their lives. They wanted to read the originals—Gregory of Tours, Monstrelet, Commines, all those whose names were odd or agreeable. But﻿PECUCHET
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the events got confused through want of knowledge of the dates.
Fortunately they possessed Dumouchel's work on Mnemonics, a duodecimo in boards with this epigraph : " To instruct while amusing."
It combined the three systems of Allevy, of Paris, and of Fenaigle.
Allevy transforms numbers into external objects, the number 1 being expressed by a tower, 2 by a bird, 3 by a camel, and so on. Paris strikes the imagination by means of rebuses : an armchair garnished with clincher-nails will give " Clou, vis — Clovis " ; and, as the sound of frying makes " ric, ric," whitings in a stove will recall " Chil-peric." Fenaigle divides the universe into houses, which contain rooms, each having four walls with nine panels, and each panel bearing an emblem. A pharos on a mountain will tell the name of " Phar-a-mond" in Paris's system ; and, according to Allevy's directions, by placing above a mirror, which signifies 4, a bird 2, and a hoop o, we shall obtain 420, the date of that prince's accession.
For greater clearness, they took as their mnemo-technic basis their own house, their domicile, associating a distinct fact with each part of it; and the courtyard, the garden, the outskirts, the entire country, had for them no meaning any longer except as objects for facilitating memory. The boundaries in the fields defined certain epochs; the apple trees were genealogical stems, the bushes﻿174
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battles ; everything became symbolic. They sought for quantities of absent things on their walls, ended by seeing them, but lost the recollection of what dates they represented.
Besides, the dates are not always authentic. They learned out of a manual for colleges that the birth of Jesus ought to be carried back five years earlier than the date usually assigned for it; that there were amongst the Greeks three ways of counting the Olympiads, and eight amongst the Latin of making the year commence. So many opportunities for mistakes outside of those which result from the zodiacs, from the epochs, and from the different calendars !
And from carelessness as to dates they passed to contempt for facts.
What is important is the philosophy of history!
Bouvard could not finish the celebrated discourse of Bossuet.
" The eagle of Meaux is a farce-actor! He forgets China, the Indies, and America; but is careful to let us know that Theodosius was 'the joy of the universe,' that Abraham ' treated kings as his equals,' and that the philosophy of the Greeks has come down from the Hebrews. His pre-occupation with the Hebrews provokes me."
Pecuchet shared this opinion, and wished to make him read Vico.
"Why admit," objected Bouvard, "that fables are more true than the truths of historians ? "﻿PECUCHET
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Pecuchet tried to explain myths, and got lost in the " Scienza Nuova."
"Will you deny the design of Providence?"
" I don't know it!" said Bouvard. And they decided to refer to Dumouchel.
The professor confessed that he was now at sea on the subject of history.
"It is changing every day. There is a controversy as to the kings of Rome and the journeys of Pythagoras. Doubts have been thrown on Belisarius, William Tell, and even on the Cid, who has become, thanks to the latest discoveries, a common robber. It is desirable that no more discoveries should be made, and the Institute ought even to lay down a kind of canon prescribing what it is necessary to believe!"
In a postscript he sent them some rules of criticism taken from Daunou's course of lectures :
" To cite by way of proof the testimony of multitudes is a bad method of proof; they are not there to reply.
" To reject impossible things. Pausanias was shown the stone swallowed by Saturn.
" Architecture may lie: instance, the arch of the Forum, in which Titus is called the first conqueror of Jerusalem, which had been conquered before him by Pompey.
" Medals sometimes deceive. Under Charles IX. money was minted from the coinage of Henry II.﻿176
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" Take into account the skill of forgers and the interestedness of apologists and calumniators."
Few historians have worked in accordance with these rules, but all in view of one special cause, of one religion, of one nation, of one party, of one system, in order to curb kings, to advise the people, or to offer moral examples.
The others, who pretend merely to narrate, are no better; for everything cannot be told—some selection must be made. But in the selection of documents some special predilection will have the upper hand, and, as this varies according to the conditions under which the writer views the matter, history will never be fixed.
" It is sad," was their reflection. However, one might take a subject, exhaust the sources of information concerning it, make a good analysis of them, then condense it into a narrative, which would be, as it were, an epitome of the facts reflecting the entire truth.
" Do you wish that we should attempt to compose a history ? "
" I ask for nothing better. But of what ? " " Suppose we wrote the life of the Duke of Angouleme ? "
" But he was an idiot! " returned Bouvard. " What matter ? Personages of an inferior mould have sometimes an enormous influence, and he may have controlled the machinery of public affairs." The books would furnish them with information ;﻿PECUCHET
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and M. de Faverges, no doubt, would have them himself, or could procure them from some elderly gentleman of his acquaintance.
They thought over this project, discussed it, and finally determined to spend a fortnight at the municipal library at Caen in making researches there.
The librarian placed at their disposal some general histories and some pamphlets with a coloured lithograph portrait representing at three-quarters' length Monseigneur the Duke of Angouleme.
The blue cloth of his uniform disappeared under the epaulets, the stars, and the large red ribbon of the Legion of Honour; a very high collar surrounded his long neck; his pear-shaped head was framed by the curls of his hair and by his scanty whiskers and heavy eyelashes; and a very big nose and thick lips gave his face an expression of commonplace good-nature.
When they had taken notes, they drew up a programme :
" Birth and childhood but slightly interesting. One of his tutors is the Abbe Guenee, Voltaire's enemy. At Turin he is made to cast a cannon ; and he studies the campaigns of Charles VIII. Also he is nominated, despite his youth, colonel of a regiment of noble guards.
" x797-—His marriage.
" 1814.—The English take possession of Bordeaux. He runs up behind them and shows his person to the inhabitants. Description of the prince's person.
12﻿178
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" 1815.—Bonaparte surprises him. Immediately he appeals to the King of Spain; and Toulon, were it not for Massena, would have been surrendered to England.
" Operations in the South. He is beaten, but released under the promise to restore the crown diamonds carried off at full gallop by the King, his uncle.
" After the Hundred Days he returns with his parents and lives in peace. Several years glide away.
" War with Spain. Once he has crossed the Pyrenees, victories everywhere follow the grandson of Henry IV. He takes the Trocadero, reaches the pillars of Hercules, crushes the factions, embraces Ferdinand, and returns.
"Triumphal arches; flowers presented by young girls; dinners at the Prefecture; ' Te Deum' in the cathedrals. The Parisians are at the height of intoxication. The city offers him a banquet. Songs containing allusions to the hero are sung at the theatre.
"The enthusiasm diminishes; for in 1827 a ball organised by subscription proves a failure.
"As he is High Admiral of France, he inspects the fleet, which is going to start for Algiers.
" July 1830.—Marmont informs him of the state of affairs. Then he gets into such a rage that he wounds himself in the hand with the general's sword. The King entrusts him with the command of all the forces.﻿PECUCHET
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" He meets detachments of the line in the Bois de Boulogne, and has not a word to say to them.
" From St. Cloud he flies to the bridge of Sevres. Coldness of the troops. That does not shake him. The Royal family leave Trianon. He sits down at the foot of an oak, unrolls a map, meditates, remounts his horse, passes in front of St. Cyr, and sends to the students words of hope.
" At Rambouillet the bodyguards bid him goodbye. He embarks, and during the entire passage is ill. End of his career.
" The importance possessed by the bridges ought here to be noticed. First, he exposes himself needlessly on the bridge of the Inn; he carries the bridge St. Esprit and the bridge of Lauriol; at Lyons the two bridges are fatal to him, and his fortune dies before the bridge of Sevres.
" List of his virtues. Needless to praise his courage, to which he joined a far-seeing policy. For he offered every soldier sixty francs to desert the Emperor, and in Spain he tried to corrupt the Constitutionalists with ready money.
" His reserve was so profound that he consented to the marriage arranged between his father and the Queen of Etruria, to the formation of a new cabinet after the Ordinances, to the abdication in favour of Chambord—to everything that they asked him.
" Firmness, however, was not wanting in him. At Angers, he cashiered the infantry of the National Guard, who, jealous of the cavalry, had succeeded
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by means of a stratagem in forming his escort, so that his Highness found himself jammed into the ranks at the cost of having his knees squeezed. But he censured the cavalry, the cause of the disorder, and pardoned the infantry—a veritable judgment of Solomon.
" His piety manifested itself by numerous devotions, and his clemency by obtaining the pardon of General Debelle, who had borne arms against him. "Intimate details; characteristics of the Prince: " At the chateau of Beauregard, in his childhood, he took pleasure in deepening, along with his brother, a sheet of water, which may still be seen. On one occasion, he visited the barracks of the chasseurs, called for a glass of wine, and-drank the King's health.
"While walking, in order to mark the step, he used to keep repeating to himself : ' One, two— one, two—one, two ! '
41 Some of his sayings have been preserved :— "To a deputation from Bordeaux: "'What consoles me for not being at Bordeaux is to find myself in your midst.' " To the Protestants of Nismes : "' I am a good Catholic, but I shall never forget that my distinguished ancestor was a Protestant.'
" To the pupils of St. Cyr, when all was lost: "'Right, my friends! The news is good! This is right—all right!'﻿PECUCHET
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"After Charles X.'s abdication:
"' Since they don't want me, let them settle it themselves.'
" And in 1814, at every turn, in the smallest village:
" ' No more war ; no more conscription ; no more united rights.'
" His style was as good as his utterance. His proclamations surpassed everything.
" The first, of the Count of Artois, began thus:
"'Frenchmen, your King's brother has arrived!'
" That of the prince :
"41 come. I am the son of your kings. You are Frenchmen !'
" Order of the day, dated from Bayonne:
" ' Soldiers, I come ! '
"Another, in the midst of disaffection:
"' Continue to sustain with the vigour which befits the French soldier the struggle which you have begun. France expects it of you.'
" Lastly, at Rambouillet:
" ' The King has entered into an arrangement with the government established at Paris, and everything brings us to believe that this arrangement is on the point of being concluded.'
" ' Everything brings us to believe' was sublime."
" One thing vexed me," said Bouvard, " that there is no mention of his love affairs! " And﻿182
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they made a marginal note : "To search for the prince's amours."
At the moment when they were taking their leave, the librarian, bethinking himself of it, showed them another portrait of the Duke of Angouleme.
In this one he appeared as a colonel of cuirassiers, on a vaulting-horse, his eyes still smaller, his mouth open, and his hair straight.
How were they to reconcile the two portraits ? Had he straight hair, or rather crisped—unless he carried affectation so far as to get it curled ?
A grave question, from Pecuchet's point of view, for the mode of wearing the hair indicates the temperament, and the temperament the individual.
Bouvard considered that we know nothing of a man as long as we are ignorant of his passions ; and in order to clear up these two points, they presented themselves at the chateau of Faverges. The count was not there; this retarded their work. They returned home annoyed.
The door of the house was wide open ; there was nobody in the kitchen. They went upstairs, and who should they see in the middle of Bouvard's room but Madame Bordin, looking about her right and left!
" Excuse me," she said, with a forced laugh, " I have for the last hour been searching for your cook, whom I wanted for my preserves."
They found her in the wood-house on a chair fast asleep. They shook her. She opened her eyes.﻿PECUCHET
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" What is it now ? You are always prodding at me with your questions ! "
It was clear that Madame Bordin had been putting some to her in their absence.
Germaine got out of her torpor, and complained of indigestion.
" I am remaining to take care of you," said the widow.
Then they perceived in the courtyard a big cap, the lappets of which were fluttering. It was Madame Castillon, proprietress of a neighbouring farm. She was calling out: " Gorju ! Gorju ! "
And from the corn-loft the voice of their little servant-maid answered loudly:
" He is not there ! "
At the end of five minutes she came down, with her cheeks flushed and looking excited. Bouvard and Pecuchet reprimanded her for having been so slow. She unfastened their gaiters without a murmur.
Then they went to look at the chest. The bakehouse was covered with its scattered fragments; the carvings were damaged, the leaves broken.
At this sight, in the face of tihs fresh disaster, Bouvard had to keep back his tears, and Pecuchet got a fit of nervous shivering.
Gorju, making his appearance almost immediately, explained the matter. He had just put the chest outside in order to varnish it, when a wandering cow knocked it down on the ground.﻿BOUVARD AND
" Whose cow ? " said Pecuchet.
" I don't know."
" Ah! you left the door open, as you did some time ago. It is your fault."
At any rate, they would have nothing more to do with him. He had been trifling with them too long, and they wanted no more of him or his work.
" These gentlemen were wrong. The damage was not so great. It would be all settled before three weeks." And Gorju accompanied them into the kitchen, where Germaine was seen dragging herself along to see after the dinner.
They noticed on the table a bottle of Calvados, three-quarters emptied.
" By you, no doubt," said Pecuchet to Gorju.
" By me ! never ! "
Bouvard met his protest by observing :
" You are the only man in the house."
" Well, and what about the women ? " rejoined the workman, with a side wink.
Germaine caught him up:
" You'd better say 'twas I! "
" Certainly it was you."
" And perhaps 'twas I smashed the press ?"
Gorju danced about.
" Don't you see that she's drunk ? "
Then they squabbled violently with one another, he with a pale face and a biting manner, she purple with rage, tearing tufts of grey hair from under her﻿p£cuchet
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cotton cap. Madame Bordin took Germaine's part, while Melie took Gorju's.
The old woman burst out:
" Isn't it an abomination that you two should be spending days together in the grove, not to speak of the nights ?—a sort of Parisian, eating up honest women, who comes to our master's house to play tricks on them ! "
Bouvard opened his eyes wide.
" What tricks ? "
" I tell you he's making fools of you!"
"Nobody can make a fool of me!" exclaimed Pecuchet, and, indignant at her insolence, exasperated by the mortification inflicted on him, he dismissed her, telling her to go and pack. Bouvard did not oppose this decision, and they went out, leaving Germaine in sobs over her misfortune, while Madame Bordin was trying to console her.
In the course of the evening, as they grew calmer, they went over these occurrences, asked themselves who had drunk the Calvados, how the chest got broken, what Madame Castillon wanted when she was calling Gorju, and whether he had dishonoured Melie ?
"We are not able to tell," said Bouvard, "what is happening in our own household, and we lay claim to discover all about the hair and the love affairs of the Duke of Angouleme."
Pecuchet added : " How many questions there are in other respects important and still more difficult! "﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
Whence they concluded that external facts are not everything. It is necessary to complete them by means of psychology. Without imagination, history is defective.
"Let us send for some historical romances!"﻿V
\HEY first read Walter Scott.
It was like the surprise of a new « world.
The men of the past who had for them been only phantoms or names, became living beings, kings, princes, wizards, footmen, gamekeepers, monks, gipsies, merchants, and soldiers, who deliberate, fight, travel, trade, eat and drink, sing and pray, in the armouries of castles, on the blackened benches of inns, in the winding streets of cities, under the sloping roofs of booths, in the cloisters of monasteries. Landscapes artistically arranged form backgrounds for the narratives, like the scenery of a theatre. You follow with your eyes a horseman galloping along the strand; you breathe amid the heather the freshness of the wind; the moon shines on the lake, over which a boat is skimming; the sun glitters on the breastplates ; the rain falls over leafy huts. Without having any knowledge of the models, they thought these pictures lifelike, and the illusion was complete.
And so the winter was spent.﻿i88
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When they had breakfasted, they would instal themselves in the little room, one at each side of the chimneypiece, and, facing one another, book in hand, they would begin to read in silence. When the day wore apace, they would go out for a walk along the road, then, having snatched a hurried dinner, they would resume their reading far into the night. In order to protect himself from the lamp, Bouvard wore blue spectacles, while Pecuchet kept the peak of his cap drawn over his forehead.
Germaine had not gone, and Gorju now and again came to dig in the garden; for they had yielded through indifference, forgetful of material things.
After Walter Scott, Alexandre Dumas diverted them after the fashion of a magic-lantern. His personages, active as apes, strong as bulls, gay as chaffinches, enter on the scene and talk abruptly, jump off roofs to the pavement, receive frightful wounds from which they recover, are believed to be dead, and yet reappear. There are trap-doors under the boards, antidotes, disguises; and all things get entangled, hurry along, and are finally unravelled without a minute for reflection. Love observes the proprieties, fanaticism is cheerful, and massacres excite a smile.
Rendered hard to please by these two masters, they could not tolerate the balderdash of the " Beli-saraire," the foolery of the " Numa Pompilius," of Marchangy, and Vicomte d'Arlincourt. The colouring of Frederic Soulie (like that of the book-lover﻿PECUCHET
Jacob) appeared to them insufficient; and M. Ville-main scandalised them by showing at page 85 of his " Lascaris " a Spaniard smoking a pipe—a long Arab pipe—in the middle of the fifteenth century.
Pecuchet consulted the " Biographie Universelle," and undertook to revise Dumas from the point of view of science.
The author in " Les Deux Dianes" makes a mistake with regard to dates. The marriage of the Dauphin, Francis, took place on the 15th of October, 1548, and not on the 20th of May, 1549. How does he know (see " Le Page du Due de Savoie ") that Catherine de Medicis, after her husband's death, wished to recommence the war ? It is not very probable that the Duke of Anjou was crowned at night in a church, an episode which adorns " La Dame de Montsoreau." " La Reine Margot" especially swarms with errors. The Duke of Nevers was not absent. He gave his opinion at the council before the feast of St. Bartholomew, and Henry of Navarre did not follow the procession four days after. Henry III. did not come back from Poland so quickly. Besides, how many flimsy devices! The miracle of the hawthorn, the balcony of Charles IX., the poisoned glass of Jeanne d'Albret—Pecuchet no longer had any confidence in Dumas.
He even lost all respect for Walter Scott on account of the oversights in his " Quentin Durward." The murder of the Archbishop of Liege is anticipated by fifteen years. The wife of Robert de Lamarck﻿BOUVARD AND
was Jeanne d'Arschel and not Hameline de Croy. Far from being killed by a soldier, he was put to death by Maximilian; and the face of Temeraire, when his corpse was found, did not express any menace, inasmuch as the wolves had half devoured it.
None the less, Bouvard went on with Walter Scott, but ended by getting weary of the repetition of the same effects. The heroine usually lives in the country with her father, and the lover, a plundered heir, is re-established in his rights and triumphs over his rivals. There is always a mendicant philosopher, a morose nobleman, pure young girls, facetious retainers, and interminable dialogues, stupid prudishness, and an utter absence of depth.
In his dislike to bric-a-brac Bouvard took up George Sand.
He got into raptures over the beautiful adulteresses and noble lovers, would have liked to have been Jacques, Simon, Lelio, and to have lived in Venice. He uttered sighs, did not know what was the matter with him, and felt himself changed.
Pecuchet, who was working up historical literature, studied plays. He swallowed two Pharamonds, three Clovises, four Charlemagnes, several Philip Augustuses, a crowd of Joan of Arcs, many Marquises de Pompadours, and some Conspiracies of Cellamare.
Nearly all of them appeared still more stupid than the romances. For there exists for the stage a conventional history which nothing can destroy.﻿PECUCHET
Louis XI. will not fail to kneel before the little images in his hat; Henry IV. will be constantly jovial, Mary Stuart tearful, Richelieu cruel; in short, all the characters seem taken from a single block, from love of simplicity and regard for ignorance, so that the playwright, far from elevating, lowers, and, instead of instructing, stupefies.
As Bouvard had spoken eulogistically to him about George Sand, Pecuchet proceeded to read " Consuelo," " Horace," and " Mauprat," was beguiled by the author's vindication of the oppressed, the socialistic and republican aspect of her works, and the discussions contained in them.
According to Bouvard, however, these elements spoiled the story, and he asked for love-tales at the circulating library.
They read aloud, one after the other, " La Nouvelle Heloi'se," " Delphine," " Adolphe," and " Ourika." But the listener's yawns proved contagious, for the book slipped out of the reader's hand to the floor.
They found fault with the last-mentioned works for making no reference to the environment, the period, the costume of the various personages. The heart alone is the theme—nothing but sentiment! as if there were nothing else in the world.
They next went in for novels of the humorous order, such as the " Voyage autour de ma Chambre," by Xavier de Maistre, and " Sous les Tilleuls," by Alphonse Karr. In books of this description the﻿ig2
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author must interrupt the narrative in order to talk about his dog, his slippers, or his mistress.
A style so free from formality charmed them at first, then appeared stupid to them, for the author effaces his work while displaying in it his personal surroundings.
Through need of the dramatic element, they plunged into romances of adventure. The more entangled, extraordinary, and impossible the plot was, the more it interested them. They did their best to foresee the denouement, became very excited over it, and tired themselves out with a piece of child's play unworthy of serious minds.
The work of Balzac amazed them like a Babylon, and at the same time like grains of dust under the microscope.
In the most commonplace things arise new aspects. They never suspected that there were such depths in modern life.
" What an observer ! " exclaimed Bouvard.
" For my part I consider him chimerical," Pecuchet ended by declaring. " He believes in the occult sciences, in monarchy, in rank; is dazzled by rascals; turns up millions for you like centimes; and middle-class people are not with him middle-class people at all, but giants. Why inflate what is unimportant, and waste description on silly things ? He wrote one novel on chemistry, another on banking, another on printing-machines, just as one Ricard produced 'The Cabman,' 'The Water-Carrier,'﻿PECUCHET
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and the ' Cocoa-Nut Seller.' We should soon have books on every trade and on every province; then on every town and on the different storeys of every house, and on every individual—which would be no longer literature but statistics or ethnography."
The process was of little consequence in Bouvard's estimation. He wanted to get information—to acquire a deeper knowledge of human nature. He read Paul de Kock again, and ran through the " Old Hermits of the Chaussee d'Antin."
" Why lose one's time with such absurdities ? " said Pecuchet.
" But they might be very interesting as a series of documents."
" Go away with your documents! I want something to lift me up, and take me away from the miseries of this world."
And Pecuchet, craving for the ideal, led Bouvard unconsciously towards tragedy.
The far-off times in which the action takes place, the interests with which it is concerned, and the high station of its leading personages impressed them with a certain sense of grandeur.
One day Bouvard took up Athalie, and recited the dream so well that Pecuchet wished to attempt it in his turn. From the opening sentence his voice got lost in a sort of humming sound. It was monotonous and, though strong, indistinct.
Bouvard, full of experience, advised him, in order to render it well-modulated, to roll it out from the
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lowest tone to the highest, and to draw it back by making use of an ascending and descending scale; and he himself went through this exercise every morning in bed, according to the precept of the Greeks. Pecuchet, at the time mentioned, worked in the same fashion : each had his door closed, and they went on bawling separately.
The features that pleased them in tragedy were the emphasis, the political declamations, and the maxims on the perversity of things.
They got off by heart the most celebrated dialogues of Racine and Voltaire, and they used to declaim them in the corridor. Bouvard, as if he were at the Theatre Fran?ais, strutted, with his hand on Pecuchet's shoulder, stopping at intervals; and, with rolling eyes, he would open wide his arms, and accuse the Fates. He would give forth fine bursts of grief from the Philoctete of La Harpe, a nice death-rattle from Gabrielle de Vergv, and, when he played Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse, the way in which he represented that personage gazing at his son while exclaiming, " Monster, worthy of me ! " was indeed terrible. Pecuchet forgot his part in it. The ability, and not the will, was what he lacked.
On one occasion, in the Cleopatve of Marmontel, he fancied that he could reproduce the hissing of the asp, just as the automaton invented for the purpose by Vaucanson might have done it. The abortive effort made them laugh all the evening. The tragedy sank in their estimation.﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard was the first to grow tired of it, and, dealing frankly with the subject, demonstrated how artificial and limping it was, the silliness of its incidents, and the absurdity of the disclosures made to confidants.
They then went in for comedy, which is the school for fine shading. Every sentence must be dislocated, every word must be underlined, and every syllable must be weighed. Pecuchet could not manage it, and got quite stranded in Celimene. Moreover, he thought the lovers very cold, the disputes a bore, and the valets intolerable—Clitandre and Sgnanarelle as unreal as ^Egistheus and Agamemnon.
There remained the serious comedy or tragedy of everyday life, where we see fathers of families afflicted, servants saving their masters, rich men offering others their fortunes, innocent seamstresses and villainous corrupters, a species which extends from Diderot to Pixerecourt. All these plays preaching about virtue disgusted them by their triviality.
The drama of 1830 fascinated them by its movement, its colouring, its youthfulness. They scarcely made any distinction between Victor Hugo, Dumas, or Bouchardy, and the diction was no longer to be pompous or fine, but lyrical, extravagant.
One day, as Bouvard was trying to make Pecuchet understand Frederic Lemaitre's acting, Madame Bordin suddenly presented herself in a
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green shawl, carrying with her a volume of Pigault-Lebrun, the two gentlemen being so polite as to lend her novels now and then.
" But go on! " for she had been a minute there already, and had listened to them with pleasure.
They hoped she would excuse them. She insisted.
" Faith ! " said Bouvard, " there's nothing to prevent-"
Pecuchet, through bashfulness, remarked that he could not act unprepared and without costume.
" To do it effectively, we would want to disguise ourselves ! "
And Bouvard looked about for something to put on, but found only the Greek cap, which he snatched up.
As the corridor was not big enough, they went down to the drawing-room. Spiders crawled along the walls, and the geological specimens that encumbered the ground had whitened with their dust the velvet of the armchairs. On the chair which had least dirt on it they spread a cover, so that Madame Bordin might sit down.
It was necessary to give her something good.
Bouvard was in favour of the Tour de Nesle. But Pecuchet was afraid of parts which called for too much action.
" She would prefer some classical piece! Phedre, for instance."
" Be it so."﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard set forth the theme: "It is about a queen whose husband has a son by another wife. She has fallen madly in love with the young man. Are we there ? Start!
" ' Yes, prince! for Theseus I grow faint, I burn— I love him!'" 1
And, addressing Pecuchet's side-face, he gushed out admiration of his port, his visage, " that charming head" ; grieved at not having met him with the Greek fleet; would have gladly been lost with him in the labyrinth.
The border of the red cap bent forward amorously, and his trembling voice and his appealing face begged of the cruel one to take pity on a hopeless flame.
Pecuchet, turning aside, breathed hard to emphasise his emotion.
Madame Bordin, without moving, kept her eyes wide open, as if gazing at people whirling round ; Melie was listening behind the door; Gorju, in his shirt-sleeves, was staring at them through the window. Bouvard made a dash into the second part. His acting gave expression to the delirium of the senses, remorse, despair; and he flung himself on the imaginary sword of Pecuchet with such violence that, slipping over some of the stone specimens, he was near tumbling on the ground.
" Pay no attention! Then Theseus arrives, and she poisons herself."
1 " Oui, prince, je languis, je brule pour Thesee— Je l'aime ! "﻿BOUVARD AND
" Poor woman ! " said Madame Bordin. After this they begged of her to choose a piece for them.
She felt perplexed about making a selection. She had only seen three pieces: Robert le Diable in the capital, Le Jeune Mari at Rouen, and another at Falaise which was very funny, and which was called La Brouette dn Vinaigrier.1
Finally, Bouvard suggested to her the great scene of Tartuffe in the second act.
Pecuchet thought an explanation was desirable :
" You must know that Tartuffe-"
Madame Bordin interrupted him : " We know what a Tartuffe is."
Bouvard had wished for a robe for a certain passage.
" I see only the monk's habit," said Pecuchet. "No matter; bring it here." He reappeared with it and a copy of Moliere. The opening was tame, but at the place where Tartuffe caresses Elmire's knees, Pecuchet assumed the tone of a gendarme :
" What is your hand doing there ? " Bouvard instantly replied in a sugary voice : " I am feeling your dress ; the stuff of it is marrowy." And he shot forth glances from his eyes, bent forward his mouth, sniffed with an exceedingly lecherous air, and ended by even addressing himself to Madame Bordin.
1 The Vinegar Merchant's Wheelbarrow.﻿What is your hand doing there ?'''﻿﻿PECUCHET
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His impassioned gaze embarrassed her, and when he stopped, humble and palpitating, she almost sought for something to say in reply.
Pecuchet took refuge in the book: " The declaration is quite gallant."
"Ha! yes," cried she; "he is a bold wheedler."
"Is it not so?" returned Bouvard confidently. " But here's another with a more modern touch about it." And, having opened his coat, he squatted over a piece of ashlar, and, with his head thrown back, burst forth:
" Your eyes' bright flame my vision floods with joy.
Sing me some song like those, in bygone years,
You sang at eve, your dark eye filled with tears." 1
" That is like me," she thought.
"Drink and be merry! let the wine-cup flow:
Give me this hour, and all the rest may go! " 2
" How droll you are ! " And she laughed with a little laugh, which made her throat rise up, and exposed her teeth.
" Ah! say, is it not sweet To love and see your lover at your feet ? "3
He knelt down.
1	" Des flammes de les yeux inonde ma paupiere.
Chante-moi quelque chant, comme parfois, le soir, Tu m'en chantais, avec des pleurs dans ton ceil noir."
2	" Soyons heureux! buvons! car la coupe est remplie,
Car cette heure est a moi, et le reste est folie!1'
3 " N'est-ce pas qu'il est doux D'aimer, et savoir qu'on vous aime a genoux?"﻿200
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" Finish, then."
"'Oh! let me sleep and dream upon thy breast, My beauty, Dona Sol, my love!'1
Here the bells are heard, and they are disturbed by a mountaineer."
"Fortunately; for, but for that-" And Madame
Bordin smiled, in place of finishing the sentence.
It was getting dark. She rose up.
It had been raining a short time before, and the path through the beech grove not being dry enough, it was more convenient to return across the fields. Bouvard accompanied her into the garden, in order to open the gate for her.
At first they walked past the trees cut like distaffs, without a word being spoken on either side. He was still moved by his declamation, and she, at the bottom of her heart, felt a certain kind of fascination, a charm which was generated by the influence of literature. There are occasions when art excites commonplace natures; and worlds may be unveiled by the clumsiest interpreters.
The sun had reappeared, making the leaves glisten, and casting luminous spots here and there amongst the brakes. Three sparrows with little chirpings hopped on the trunk of an old linden tree which had fallen to the ground. A hawthorn in blossom exhibited its pink sheath ; lilacs drooped, borne down by their foliage.
1 "Oh! laisse-moi dormir et rever sur ton sein, Dona Sol, ma beaute, mon amour!"﻿PECUCHET
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" Ah! that does one good ! " said Bouvard, inhaling the air till it filled his lungs.
" You are so painstaking."
"It is not that I have talent; but as for fire, I possess some of that."
" One can see," she returned, pausing between the words, " that you—were in love—in your early days."
" Only in my early days, you believe ? "
She stopped. " I know nothing about it."
" What does she mean ?" And Bouvard felt his heart beating.
A little pool in the middle of the gravel obliging them to step aside, they got up on the hedgerow.
Then they chatted about the recital.
" What is the name of your last piece ? "
"It is taken from Hevmani, a drama."
" Ha! " then slowly and as if in soliloquy, " it must be nice to have a gentleman say such things to you—in downright earnest."
" I am at your service," replied Bouvard.
" You ? "
"Yes, I."
" What a joke ! "
" Not the least in the world! "
And, having cast a look about him, he caught her from behind round the waist and kissed the nape of her neck vigorously.
She became very pale as if she were going to﻿202
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faint, and leaned one hand against a tree, then opened her eyes and shook her head.
" It is past."
He looked at her in amazement.
The grating being open, she got up on the threshold of the little gateway.
There was a water-channel at the opposite side. She gathered up all the folds of her petticoat and stood on the brink hesitatingly.
" Do you want my assistance ? "
" Unnecessary."
" Why not ? "
" Ha ! you are too dangerous ! " And, as she jumped down, he could see her white stocking.
Bouvard blamed himself for having wasted an opportunity. Bah ! he would get one again—and then women are not all alike. With some of them you must be blunt, while audacity destroys you with others. In short, he was satisfied with himself—and he did not confide his hope to Pecuchet; this was through fear of the remarks that would be passed, and not at all through delicacy.
From that time forth they used to recite in the presence of Melie and Gorju, all the time regretting that they had not a private theatre.
The little servant-girl was amused without understanding a bit of it, wondering at the language, charmed with the roll of the verses. Gorju applauded the philosophic passages in the tragedies, and everything in the people's favour in the﻿PECUCHET
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melodramas, so that, delighted at his good taste, they thought of giving him lessons, with a view to making an actor of him subsequently. This prospect dazzled the workman.
Their performances by this time became the subject of general gossip. Vaucorbeil spoke to them about the matter in a sly fashion. Most people regarded their acting with contempt.
They only prided themselves the more upon it. They crowned themselves artists. Pecuchet wore moustaches, and Bouvard thought he could not do anything better, with his round face and his bald patch, than to give himself a head a la Beranger. Finally, they determined to write a play.
The subject was the difficulty. They searched for it while they were at breakfast, and drank coffee, a stimulant indispensable for the brain, then two or three little glasses. They would next take a nap on their beds, after which they would make their way down to the fruit garden and take a turn there; and at length they would leave the house to find inspiration outside, and, after walking side by side, they would come back quite worn out.
Or else they would shut themselves up together. Bouvard would sweep the table, lay down paper in front of him, dip his pen, and remain with his eyes on the ceiling; whilst Pecuchet, in the armchair, would be plunged in meditation, with his legs stretched out and his head down.﻿204
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Sometimes they felt a shivering sensation, and, as it were, the passing breath of an idea, but at the very moment when they were seizing it, it had vanished.
But methods exist for discovering subjects. You take a title at random, and a fact trickles out of it. You develop a proverb ; you combine a number of adventures so as to form only one. None of these devices came to anything. In vain they ran through collections of anecdotes, several volumes of celebrated trials, and a heap of historical works.
And they dreamed of being acted at the Odeon, had their thoughts fixed on theatrical performances, and sighed for Paris.
" I was born to be an author instead of being buried in the country!" said Bouvard.
" And I likewise," chimed in Pecuchet.
Then came an illumination to their minds. If they had so much trouble about it, the reason was their ignorance of the rules.
They studied them in the "Pratique du Theatre," by D'Aubignac, and in some works not quite so old-fashioned.
Important questions are discussed in them: Whether comedy can be written in verse; whether tragedy does not go outside its limits by taking its subject from modern history; whether the heroes ought to be virtuous; what kinds of villains it admits of; up to what point horrors are permissible in it; that the details should verge towards a single﻿PECUCHET
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end; that the interest should increase; that the conclusion should harmonise with the opening— these were unquestionable propositions.
"Invent resorts that can take hold of me,"
says Boileau. By what means were they to "invent resorts " ?
" So that in all your speeches passion's dart May penetrate, and warm, and move the heart." 1
How were they to "warm the heart"?
Rules, therefore, were not sufficient; there was need, in addition, for genius. And genius is not sufficient either. Corneille, according to the French Academy, understands nothing about the stage; Geoffroy disparaged Voltaire; Souligny scoffed at Racine ; La Harpe blushed at Shakespeare's name.
Becoming disgusted with the old criticism, they wished to make acquaintance with the new, and sent for the notices of plays in the newspapers.
What assurance ! What obstinacy ! What dishonesty ! Outrages on masterpieces; respect shown for platitudes; the gross ignorance of those who pass for scholars, and the stupidity of others whom they describe as witty.
Perhaps it is to the public that one must appeal.
But works that have been applauded sometimes displeased them, and amongst plays that were hissed there were some that they admired.
1 "Que dans tous vos discours la passion emue Aille chercher le cceur, l'echauffe et le remue."﻿206
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Thus the opinions of persons of taste are unreliable, while the judgment of the multitude is incomprehensible.
Bouvard submitted the problem to Barberou. Pecuchet, on his side, wrote to Dumouchel.
The ex-commercial traveller was astonished at the effeminacy engendered by provincial life. His old Bouvard was turning into a blockhead; in short, " he was no longer in it at all."
" The theatre is an article of consumption like any other. It is advertised in the newspapers. We go to the theatre to be amused. The good thing is the thing that amuses."
"But, idiot," exclaimed Pecuchet, "what amuses you is not what amuses me; and the others, as well as yourself, will be weary of it by and by. If plays are expressly written to be acted, how is it that the best of them can be always read ?"
And he awaited Dumouchel's reply. According to the professor, the immediate fate of a play proved nothing. The Misanthrope and Athalie are dying out. Zaive is no longer understood. Who speaks to-day of Ducange or of Picard ? And he recalled all the great contemporary successes from Fanchon la Vielleuse to Gaspavdo le Pecheur, and deplored the decline of our stage. The cause of it is the contempt for literature, or rather for style ; and, with the aid of certain authors mentioned by Dumouchel, they learned the secret of the various styles; how we get the majestic, the temperate, the ingenuous, the﻿PECUCHET
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touches that are noble and the expressions that are low. " Dogs " may be heightened by " devouring " ; " to vomit " is only to be used figuratively; "fever" is applied to the passions; " valiance" is beautiful in verse.
" Suppose we made verses ? " said Pecuchet.
" Later on. Let us occupy ourselves with prose first."
A strict recommendation is given to choose a classic in order to mould yourself upon it; but all of them have their dangers, and not only have they sinned in point of style, but still more in point of phraseology.
This assertion disconcerted Bouvard and Pecuchet, and they set about studying grammar.
Has the French language, in its idiomatic structure, definite articles and indefinite as in Latin ? Some think that it has, others that it has not. They did not venture to decide.
The subject is always in agreement with the verb, save on the occasions when the subject is not in agreement with it.
There was formerly no distinction between the verbal adjective and the present participle; but the Academy lays down one not very easy to grasp.
They were much pleased to learn that the pronoun " leur" is used for persons, but also for things, while " ou " and " en " are used for things and sometimes for persons.
Ought we to say " Cette femme a l'air bon," or﻿208
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" l'air bonne"?—" une buche de bois sec," or "de bois seche "—" ne pas laisser de" or " que de "— "une troupe de voleurs survint," or " survinrent " ?
Other difficulties : " Autour " and " a l'entour," of which Racine and Boileau did not see the difference ; " imposer," or " en imposer," synonyms with Massillon and Voltaire ; " croasser " and " coasser," confounded by Lafontaine, who knew, however, how to distinguish a crow from a frog.
The grammarians, it is true, are at variance. Some see a beauty where others discover a fault. They admit principles of which they reject the consequences, announce consequences of which they repudiate the principles, lean on tradition, throw over the masters, and go in for whimsical refinements.
Menage, instead of " lentilles " and " cassonade," approves of " nentilles " and " castonade " ; Bonhours "jerarchie" and not " hierarchie," and M. Chapsal speaks of " les ails de la soupe."
Pecuchet was amazed above all at Jenin. What! "z'annetons" would be better than " hannetons," "z'aricots" than "haricots"! and, under Louis XIV., the pronunciation was "Roume" and "Monsieur de Lioune," instead of 11 Rome" and "Monsieur de Lionne " !
Littre gave them the finishing stroke by declaring that there had never been, and never could be positive orthography. They concluded that syntax is a whim and grammar an illusion.﻿PECUCHET
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At this period, moreover, a new school of rhetoric declared that we should write as we speak, and that all would be well as long as we felt and observed.
As they had felt and believed that they had observed, they considered themselves qualified to write. A play is troublesome on account of the narrowness of its framework, but the novel has more freedom. In order to write one they searched among their personal recollections.
Pecuchet recalled to mind one of the head-clerks in his own office, a very nasty customer, and he felt a longing to take revenge on him by means of a book.
Bouvard had, at the smoking saloon, made the acquaintance of an old writing-master, who was a miserable drunkard. Nothing could be so ludicrous as this character.
At the end of the week, they imagined that they could fuse these two subjects into one. They left off there, and passed on to the following : a woman who causes the unhappiness of a family; a wife, her husband, and her lover; a woman who would be virtuous through a defect in her conformation; an ambitious man; a bad priest. They tried to bind together with these vague conceptions things supplied by their memory, and then made abridgments or additions.
Pecuchet was for sentiment and ideality, Bouvard for imagery and colouring; and they began to understand one another no longer, each wondering that the other should be so shallow.
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The science which is known as aesthetics would perhaps settle their differences. A friend of Du-mouchel, a professor of philosophy, sent them a list of works on the subject. They worked separately and communicated their ideas to one another.
In the first place, what is the Beautiful?
For Schelling, it is the infinite expressing itself through the finite; for Reid, an occult quality; for Jouffroy, an indecomposable fact; for De Maistre, that which is pleasing to virtue; for P. Andre, that which agrees with reason.
And there are many kinds of beauty: a beauty in the sciences—geometry is beautiful; a beauty in morals—it cannot be denied that the death of Socrates was beautiful; a beauty in the animal kingdom—the beauty of the dog consists in his smell. A pig could not be beautiful, having regard to his dirty habits ; no more could a serpent, for it awakens in us ideas of vileness. The flowers, the butterflies, the birds may be beautiful. Finally, the first condition of beauty is unity in variety: there is the principle.
" Yet," said Bouvard, " two squint eyes are more varied than two straight eyes, and produce an effect which is not so good—as a rule."
They entered upon the question of the Sublime.
Certain objects are sublime in themselves : the noise of a torrent, profound darkness, a tree flung down by the storm. A character is beautiful when it triumphs, and sublime when it struggles.﻿PECUCHET
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" I understand," said Bouvard ; " the Beautiful is the beautiful, and the Sublime the very beautiful."
But how were they to be distinguished ?
" By means of tact," answered Pecuchet.
" And tact—where does that come from ? "
" From taste."
" What is taste ? "
It is defined as a special discernment, a rapid judgment, the power of distinguishing certain relationships.
" In short, taste is taste; and all that does not tell the way to have it."
It is necessary to observe the proprieties. But the proprieties vary; and, let a work be ever so beautiful, it will not be always irreproachable. There is, however, a beauty which is indestructible, and of whose laws we are ignorant, for its genesis is mysterious.
Since an idea cannot be interpreted in every form, we ought to recognise limits amongst the arts, and in each of the arts many forms; but combinations arise in which the style of one will enter into another without the ill result of deviating from the end—of not being true.
The too rigid application of truth is hurtful to beauty, and preoccupation with beauty impedes truth. However, without an ideal there is no truth ; this is why types are of a more continuous reality than portraits. Art, besides, only aims at
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verisimilitude; but verisimilitude depends on the observer, and is a relative and transitory thing.
So they got lost in discussions. Bouvard believed less and less in aesthetics.
"If it is not a humbug, its correctness will be demonstrated by examples. Now listen."
And he read a note which had called for much research on his part:
" ' Bouhours accuses Tacitus of not having the simplicity which history demands. M. Droz, a professor, blames Shakespeare for his mixture of the serious and the comic. Nisard, another professor, thinks that Andre Chenier is, as a poet, beneath the seventeenth century. Blair, an Englishman, finds fault with the picture of the harpies in Virgil. Marmontel groans over the liberties taken by Homer. Lamotte does not admit the immortality of his heroes. Vida is indignant at his similes. In short, all the makers of rhetorics, poetics, and aesthetics, appear to me idiots.'"
" You are exaggerating," said Pecuchet.
He was disturbed by doubts; for, if (as Longinus observes) ordinary minds are incapable of faults, the faults must be associated with the masters, and we are bound to admire them. This is going too far. However, the masters are the masters. He would have liked to make the doctrines harmonise with the works, the critics with the poets, to grasp the essence of the Beautiful; and these questions exercised him﻿PliCUCHET
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so much that his bile was stirred up. He got a jaundice from it.
It was at its crisis when Marianne, Madame Bordin's cook, came with a request from her mistress for an interview with Bouvard.
The widow had not made her appearance since the dramatic performance. Was this an advance ? But why should she employ Marianne as an intermediary ? And all night Bouvard's imagination wandered.
Next day, about two o'clock, he was walking in the corridor, and glancing out through the window from time to time. The door-bell rang. It was the notary.
He crossed the threshold, ascended the staircase, and seated himself in the armchair, and, after a preliminary exchange of courtesies, said that, tired of waiting for Madame Bordin, he had started before her. She wished to buy the Ecalles from him.
Bouvard experienced a kind of chilling sensation, and he hurried towards Pecuchet's room.
Pecuchet did not know what reply to make. He was in an anxious frame of mind, as M. Vaucorbeil was to be there presently.
At length Madame Bordin arrived. The delay was explained by the manifest attention she had given to her toilette, which consisted of a cashmere dress, a hat, and polished kid gloves—a costume befitting a serious occasion.﻿214
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After much frivolous preliminary talk, she asked whether a thousand crown-pieces would not be sufficient.
" One acre! A thousand crown-pieces! Never! "
She half closed her eyes. " Oh ! for me ! "
And all three remained silent.
M. de Faverges entered. He had a morocco case under his arm, like a solicitor ; and, depositing it on the table:
" These are pamphlets! They deal with reform —a burning question; but here is a thing which no doubt belongs to you."
And he handed Bouvard the second volume of the " Memoires du Diable."
Melie, just now, had been reading it in the kitchen ; and, as one ought to watch over the morals of persons of that class, he thought he was doing the right thing in confiscating the book.
Bouvard had lent it to his servant-girl. They chatted about novels. Madame Bordin liked them when they were not dismal.
"Writers," said M. de Faverges, "paint life in colours that are too flattering."
" It is necessary to paint," urged Bouvard.
" Then there is nothing to be done save to follow the example."
" It is not a question of example."
" At least, you will admit that they might fall into the hands of a young daughter. I have one."﻿PECUCHET
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"And a charming one!" said the notary, with the expression of countenance which he wore on the days of marriage contracts.
" Well, for her sake, or rather that of the persons who surround her, I prohibit them in my house, for the people, my dear sir-"
" What have the people done ? " said Vaucorbeil, appearing suddenly at the door.
Pecuchet, who had recognised his voice, came to mingle with the company.
"I maintain," returned the count, "that it is necessary to keep them from reading certain books."
Vaucorbeil observed: " Then you are not in favour of education ?"
" Yes, certainly. Allow me-"
" When every day," said Marescot, " an attack is made on the government."
" Where's the harm ? "
And the nobleman and the physician proceeded to disparage Louis Philippe, recalling the Pritchard case, and the September laws against the liberty of the press.
" And that of the stage," added Pecuchet.
Marescot could stand this no longer.
" It goes too far, this stage of yours ! "
" That I grant you," said the count—" plays that glorify suicide."
"Suicide is a fine thing! Witness Cato," protested Pecuchet.
Without replying to the argument, M. de Fa verges﻿216
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stigmatised those works in which the holiest things are scoffed at: the family, property, marriage.
" Well, and Moliere ? " said Bouvard.
Marescot, a man of literary taste, retorted that Moliere would not pass muster any longer, and was, furthermore, a little overrated.
"Finally," said the count, "Victor Hugo has been pitiless — yes, pitiless — towards Marie Antoinette, by dragging over the hurdle the type of the Queen in the character of Mary Tudor."
"What!" exclaimed Bouvard, "I, an author, I have no right-"
" No, sir, you have no right to show us crime without putting beside it a corrective—without presenting to us a lesson."
Vaucorbeil thought also that art ought to have an object—to aim at the improvement of the masses. " Let us chant science, our discoveries, patriotism," and he broke into admiration of Casimir Delavigne.
Madame Bordin praised the Marquis de Foudras.
The notary replied : " But the language—are you thinking of that ? "
" The language ? How ? "
" He refers to the style," said Pecuchet. " Do you consider his works well written ? "
" No doubt, exceedingly interesting."
He shrugged his shoulders, and she blushed at the impertinence.
Madame Bordin had several times attempted to come back to her own business transaction. It was﻿PECUCHET
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too late to conclude it. She went off on Marescot's arm.
The count distributed his pamphlets, requesting them to hand them round to other people.
Vaucorbeil was leaving, when Pecuchet stopped him.
" You are forgetting me, doctor."
His yellow physiognomy was pitiable, with his moustaches and his black hair, which was hanging down under a silk handkerchief badly fastened.
" Purge yourself," said the doctor. And, giving him two little slaps as if to a child, " Too much nerves, too much artist ! "
" No, surely ! "
They summed up what they had just heard. The morality of art is contained for every person in that which flatters that person's interests. No one has any love for literature.
After this they turned over the count's pamphlets. In all of them there was a demand for universal suffrage.
"It seems to me," said Pecuchet, "that we will soon have some squabbling."
For he saw everything in dark colours, perhaps on account of his jaundice.﻿VI
N the morning of the 25th of February, 1848, the news was brought to Chavi-gnolles by an individual who had come from Falaise that Paris was covered with barricades, and next day the proclamation of the Republic was posted up outside the mayor's office.
This great event stupefied the inhabitants.
But when they learned that the Court of Cassation, the Court of Appeal, the Court of Exchequer, the Chamber of Notaries, the order of advocates, the Council of State, the University, the generals, and M. de la Roche-Jacquelein himself had given their adhesion to the provisional government, their breasts began to expand; and, as trees of liberty were planted at Paris, the municipal council decided that they ought to have them at Chavignolles.
Bouvard made an offer of one, his patriotism exulting in the triumph of the people; as for Pecuchet, the fall of royalty confirmed his anticipations so exactly that he must needs be satisfied.
Gorju, obeying them with zeal, removed one﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
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of the poplar trees which skirted the meadow above the "Butte" and transported it to "the Cows' Pass," at the entrance of the village, the place appointed for the purpose.
Before the hour for the ceremony, all three awaited the procession. They heard a drum beating, and then beheld a silver cross. After this appeared two torches borne by the chanters, and the cure, with stole, surplice, cope, and biretta. Four altar-boys escorted him, a fifth carried the holy-water bucket, and in the rear came the sacristan. He got up on the raised edge of the hole in which stood the poplar tree, adorned with tri-coloured ribbons. On the opposite side could be seen the mayor and his two deputies, Beljambe and Marescot; then the principal personages of the district, M. de Faverges, Vaucorbeil, Coulon, the justice of the peace, an old fogey with a sleepy face. Heurtaux wore a foraging-cap, and Alexandre Petit, the new schoolmaster, had put on his frock-coat, a threadbare green frock-coat—his Sunday one. The firemen, whom Girbal commanded, sword in hand, stood in single file. On the other side shone the white plates of some old shakos of the time of Lafayette—five or six, no more—the National Guard having fallen into desuetude at Chavignolles. Peasants and their wives, workmen from neighbouring factories, and village brats crowded together in the background; and Placquevent, the keeper, five feet eight inches in height, kept them in check﻿220
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with a look as he walked up and down with folded arms.
The cure's speech was like that of other priests under similar circumstances. After having thundered against kings, he glorified the Republic. " Do we not say 4 the republic of letters,' ' the Christian republic' ? What more innocent than the one, more beautiful than the other ? Jesus Christ formulated our sublime device : the tree of the people was the tree of the Cross. In order that religion may give her fruits, she has need of charity." And, in the name of charity, the ecclesiastic implored of his brethren not to commit any disorder; to return home peaceably.
Then he sprinkled the tree while he invoked the blessing of God. " May it grow, and may it recall to us our enfranchisement from all servitude, and that fraternity more bountiful than the shade of its branches. Amen."
Some voices repeated " Amen " ; and, after an interval of drum-beating, the clergy, chanting a " Te Deum," returned along the road to the church.
Their intervention had produced an excellent effect. The simple saw in it a promise of happiness, the patriotic a mark of deference, a sort of homage rendered to their principles.
Bouvard and Pecuchet thought they ought to have been thanked for their present, or at least that an allusion ought to have been made to it;﻿PECUCHET
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and they unbosomed themselves on the subject to Faverges and the doctor.
What mattered wretched considerations of that sort ? Vaucorbeil was delighted with the Revolution ; so was the count. He execrated the Orleans family. They would never see them any more! Good-bye to them ! All for the people henceforth ! And followed by Hurel, his factotum, he went to meet the cure.
Foureau was walking with his head down, between the notary and the innkeeper, irritated by the ceremony, as he was apprehensive of a riot; and instinctively he turned round towards Placque-vent, who, together with the captain, gave vent to loud regrets at Girbal's unsatisfactoriness and the sorry appearance of his men.
Some workmen passed along the road singing the " Marseillaise," with Gorju in their midst brandishing a stick ; Petit was escorting them with fire in his eyes.
" I don't like that! " said Marescot. " They are making a great outcry, and getting too excited."
" Oh, bless my soul! " replied Coulon ; " young people must amuse themselves."
Foureau heaved a sigh. " Queer amusement ! and then the guillotine at the end of it!" He had visions of the scaffold, and was anticipating horrors.
Chavignolles felt the rebound of the agitation in Paris. The villagers subscribed to the news-﻿222
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papers. Every morning people crowded to the post-office, and the postmistress would not have been able to get herself free from them were it not for the captain, who sometimes assisted her. Then would follow a chat on the green.
The first violent discussion was on the subject of Poland.
Heurtaux and Bouvard called for its liberation.
M. de Fa verges took a different view.
"What right would we have to go there? That would be to let loose Europe against us. No imprudence ! "
And everybody approving of this, the two Poles held their tongues.
On another occasion, Vaucorbeil spoke in favour of Ledru-Rollin's circulars.
Foureau retorted with a reference to the forty-five centimes.
"But the government," said Pecuchet, "have suppressed slavery."
" What does slavery matter to me ? "
" Well, and the abolition of the death-penalty in political cases ? "
" Faith," replied Foureau, " they would like to abolish everything. However, who knows ? the tenants are already showing themselves very exacting."
"So much the better! The proprietors," according to Pecuchet, " had been too much favoured. He who owns an estate-"﻿PECUCHET
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Foureau and Marescot interrupted him, exclaiming that he was a communist.
" I—a communist! "
And all kept talking at the same time. When Pecuchet proposed to establish a club, Foureau had the hardihood to reply that they would never see such a thing at Chavignolles.
After this, Gorju demanded guns for the National Guard, the general opinion having fixed on him as instructor. The only guns in the place were those of the firemen. Girbal had possession of them. Foureau did not care to deliver them up.
Gorju looked at him.
" You will find, however, that I know how to use them."
For he added to his other occupations that of poaching, and the innkeeper often bought from him a hare or a rabbit.
" Faith ! take them ! " said Foureau.
The same evening they began drilling. It was under the lawn, in front of the church. Gorju, in a blue smock-frock, with a neckcloth around his loins, went through the movements in an automatic fashion. When he gave the orders, his voice was gruff.
" Draw in your bellies ! "
And immediately, Bouvard, keeping back his breath, pushed in his stomach, and stretched out his buttocks.
" Good God ! you're not told to make an arch."﻿224
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Pecuchet confused the ranks and the files, half-turns to the right and half-turns to the left; but the most pitiable sight was the schoolmaster: weak and of a slim figure, with a ring of fair beard around his neck, he staggered under the weight of his gun, the bayonet of which incommoded his neighbours.
They wore pantaloons of every colour, dirty shoulder-belts, old regimentals that were too short, leaving their shirts visible over their flanks; and each of them pretended that he had not the means of doing otherwise. A subscription was started to clothe the poorest of them. Foureau was niggardly, while women made themselves conspicuous. Madame Bordin gave five francs, in spite of her hatred of the Republic. M. de Faverges equipped a dozen men, and was not missing at the drill. Then he took up his quarters at the grocer's, and gave those who came in first a drink.
The powerful then began fawning on the lower class. Everyone went after the working-men. People-intrigued for the favour of being associated with them. They became nobles.
Those of the canton were, for the most part, weavers ; others worked in the cotton mills or at a paper factory lately established.
Gorju fascinated them by his bluster, taught them the shoe trick,1 and brought those whom he
1 " La savate" — a military practice of beating soldiers unskilful at drill with an old shoe.—Translator.﻿PECUCHET
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treated as chums to Madame Castillon's house for a drink.
But the peasants were more numerous, and on market days M. de Faverges would walk about the green, make inquiries as to their wants, and try to convert them to his own ideas. They listened without answering, like Pere Gouy, ready to accept any government as long as it reduced the taxes.
By dint of babbling, Gorju was making a name for himself. Perhaps they might send him into the Assembly !
M. de Faverges was thinking of it—like him, while seeking not to compromise himself.
The Conservatives oscillated between Foureau and Marescot, but, as the notary stuck to his office, Foureau was chosen—a boor, an idiot. The doctor waxed indignant. Rejected in the competition, he regretted Paris, and the consciousness of his wasted life gave him a morose air. A more distinguished career was about to open for him— what a revenge ! He drew up a profession of faith, and went to read it to MM. Bouvard and Pecuchet.
They congratulated him upon it. Their opinions were identical with his. However, they wrote better, had a knowledge of history, and could cut as good a figure as he could in the Chamber. Why not ? But which of them ought to offer himself ? And they entered upon a contest of delicacy.
Pecuchet preferred that it should be his friend rather than himself.﻿226
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"No, it suits you better! you have a better deportment! "
" Perhaps so," returned Bouvard, "but you have a better tuft of hair! " And, without solving the difficulty, they arranged their plans of conduct.
This vertigo of deputyship had seized on others. The captain dreamed of it under his foraging cap while puffing at his pipe, and the schoolmaster too in his school, and the cure also between two prayers, so that he sometimes surprised himself with his eyes towards heaven, in the act of saying, " Grant, O my God, that I may be a deputy! "
The doctor, having received some encouragement, repaired to the house of Heurtaux, and explained to him what his chances were. The captain did not stand on ceremony about it. Vaucorbeil was known, undoubtedly, but little liked by his professional brethren, especially in the case of druggists. Everyone would bark at him ; the people did not want a gentleman ; his best patients would leave him. And, when he weighed these arguments, the physician regretted his weakness.
As soon as he had gone, Heurtaux went to see Placquevent. Between old soldiers there ought to be mutual courtesy, but the rural guard, devoted though he was to Foureau, flatly refused to help him.
The cure demonstrated to M. de Faverges that the hour had not come. It was necessary to give the Republic time to get used up.﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard and Pecuchet represented to Gorju that he would never be strong enough to overcome the coalition of the peasants and the village shopkeepers, filled him with uncertainty, and deprived him of all confidence.
Petit, through pride, had allowed his ambition to be seen. Beljambe warned him that, if he failed, his dismissal was certain.
Finally, the cure got orders from the bishop to keep himself quiet.
Then, there only remained Foureau.
Bouvard and Pecuchet opposed him, bringing up against him his unfriendly attitude about the guns, his opposition to the club, his reactionary views, his avarice; and even persuaded Gouy that he wanted to bring back the old regime. Vague an entity as this was . to the peasant's mind, he execrated it with a hatred that had accumulated in the souls of his forefathers during ten centuries; and he turned all his relations, and those of his wife, brothers-in-law, cousins, grand - nephews (a horde of them), against Foureau.
Gorju, Vaucorbeil, and Petit kept working for the overthrow of the mayor ; and, the ground being thus cleared, Bouvard and Pecuchet, without any doubt, were in a position to succeed.
They drew lots to know which would present himself. The drawing decided nothing, and they went to consult the doctor on the subject.
He had news for them: Flacardoux, editor of
15—2﻿228
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Le Calvados, had announced his candidature. The two friends had a keen sense of having been deceived. Each felt the other's disappointment more than his own. But politics had an exciting influence on them. When the election-day arrived they went to inspect the urns. Flacardoux had carried it!
M. de Faverges had fallen back on the National Guard, without obtaining the epaulet of commander. The people of Chavignolles contrived to get Bel-jambe nominated.
This favouritism on the part of the public, so whimsical and unforeseen, dismayed Heurtaux. He had neglected his duties, confining himself to inspecting the military operations now and then, and giving utterance to a few remarks. No matter ! He considered it a monstrous thing that an innkeeper should be preferred to one who had been formerly a captain in the Imperial service, and he said, after the invasion of the Chamber on the 15th of May : " If the military grades give themselves away like that in the capital, I am no longer astonished at what may happen."
The reaction began.
People believed in Louis Blanc's pineapple soup, in Flocon's bed of gold, and Ledru-Rollin's royal orgies ; and as the province pretends to know everything that happens in Paris, the inhabitants of Chavignolles had no doubt about these inventions, and gave credence to the most absurd reports.
M. de Faverges one evening came to look for﻿PECUCHET
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the cure, in order to tell him that the Count de Chambord had arrived in Normandy.
Joinville, according to Foureau, had made preparations with his sailors to put down "these socialists of yours." Heurtaux declared that Louis Napoleon would shortly be consul.
The factories had stopped. Poor people wandered in large groups about the country.
One Sunday (it was in the early days of June) a gendarme suddenly started in the direction of Falaise. The workmen of Acqueville, Liffard, Pierre-Pont, and Saint-Remy were marching on Chavignolles. The sheds were shut up. The municipal council assembled and passed a resolution, to prevent catastrophes, that no resistance should be offered. The gendarmes were kept in, and orders were given to them not to show themselves. Soon was heard, as it were, the rumbling of a storm. Then the song of the Girondists shook the windows, and men, arm in arm, passed along the road from Caen, dusty, sweating, in rags. They filled up the entire space in front of the council chamber, and there arose a great hurly-burly.
Gorju and two of his comrades entered the chamber. One of them was lean and wretched-looking, with a knitted waistcoat, the ribbons of which were hanging down; the other, black as coal —a machinist, no doubt—with hair like a brush, thick eyebrows, and old list shoes. Gorju, like a hussar, wore his vest slung over his shoulder.﻿230
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All three remained standing, and the councillors, seated round the table, which was covered with a blue cloth, gazed at their faces, pale from privation.
" Citizens ! " said Gorju, " we want work."
The mayor trembled. He could not find his voice.
Marescot replied from the place where he sat that the council would consider the matter directly; and when the comrades had gone out they discussed several suggestions.
The first was to have stones drawn.
In order to utilise the stones, Girbal proposed a road from Angleville to Tournebu.
That from Bayeux had positively rendered the same service.
They could clear out the pond! This was not sufficient as a public work. Or rather, dig a second pond ! But in what place ?
Langlois' advice was to construct an embankment along the Mortins as a protection against an inundation. It would be better, Beljambe thought, to clear away the heather.
It was impossible to arrive at any conclusion. To appease the crowd, Coulon went down over the peristyle and announced that they were preparing workshops of charity.
"Charity! Thanks!" cried Gorju. "Down with the aristocrats! We want the right to work! "
It was the question of the time. He made use of it as a source of popularity. He was applauded.
In turning round he elbowed Bouvard, whom﻿PECUCHET
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Pecuchet had dragged to the spot, and they entered into conversation. Nothing could keep them back; the municipal building was surrounded; the council could not escape.
" Where will you get money ? " said Bouvard. " In the rich people's houses. Besides, the government will give orders for public works." " And if works are not wanted ? " " They will have them made in advance." " But wages will fall," urged Pecuchet. " When work happens to be lacking, it is because there are too many products; and you demand to have them increased ! "
Gorju bit his moustache. " However, with the
organisation of labour-"
" Then the government will be the master! " Some of those around murmured : " No, no ! no more masters ! " Gorju got angry. " No matter ! Workers should be supplied with capital, or rather credit should be established." " In what way ? "
" Ah! I don't know; but credit ought to be established."
" We've had enough of that," said the machinist. " They are only plaguing us, these farce-actors! "
And he climbed up the steps declaring that he would break open the door.
There he was met by Placquevent, with his right knee bent and his fists clenched :﻿232
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" Advance one inch further! "
The machinist recoiled. The shouting of the mob reached the chamber. All rose up with the desire to run away. The help from Falaise had not arrived. They bewailed the count's absence. Marescot kept twisting a pen; Pere Coulon groaned; Heurtaux lashed himself into a fury to make them send for the gendarmes.
" Command them to come ! " said Foureau.
" I have no authority."
The noise, however, redoubled. The whole green was covered with people, and they were all staring at the first storey of the building when, at the window in the middle, under the clock, Pecuchet made his appearance.
He had ingeniously got up by the back-stairs, and, wishing to do like Lamartine, he began an harangue to the populace :
" Citizens !-"
But his cap, his nose, his frock-coat, his entire personality lacked prestige.
The man in the knitted waistcoat asked him : .
" Are you a workman ? "
" No."
" A master, then ? "
" Nor that either."
" Well, take yourself off, then."
" Why ? " returned Pecuchet haughtily.
And the next moment he disappeared into the recess of the window in the machinist's clutch.﻿PECUCHET
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Gorju came to his assistance. " Let him alone ! He's a decent fellow." They got into handigrips.
The door flew open, and Marescot, on the threshold, announced the decision of the council. Hurel had suggested his doing so.
The road from Tournebu would have a branch road in the direction of Angleville and leading towards the chateau of Faverges.
It was a sacrifice which the commune took upon itself in the interest of the working-men.
They dispersed.
When Bouvard and Pecuchet re-entered their house, women's voices fell upon their ears. The servants and Madame Bordin were breaking into exclamations, the widow's screams being the loudest; and at sight of them :
" Ha! this is very fortunate! I have been waiting for you for the last three hours ! My poor garden has not a single tulip left! Filth everywhere on the grass! No way of getting rid of him ! "
" Who is it ? "
41 Pere Gouy."
He had come with a cartload of manure, and had scattered it pell-mell over the grass.
" He is now digging it up. Hurry on and put a stop to him."
" I am going with you," said Bouvard.
At the bottom of the steps outside, a horse in the shafts of a dung-cart was gnawing at a bunch﻿234
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of oleanders. The wheels, in grazing the flower borders, had bruised the box trees, broken a rhododendron, knocked down the dahlias; and clods of black muck, like molehills, embossed the green sward. Gouy was vigorously digging it up.
One day Madame Bordin had carelessly said to him that she would like to have it turned up. He set about the job, and, in spite of her orders to desist, went on with it. This was the way that he interpreted the right to work, Gorju's talk having turned his brain.
He only went away after violent threats from Bouvard.
Madame Bordin, by way of compensation, did not pay for the manual labour, and kept the manure. She was wise: the doctor's wife, and even the notary's, though of higher social position, respected her for it.
The charitable workshops lasted a week. No trouble occurred. Gorju left the neighbourhood.
Meanwhile, the National Guard was always on foot : on Sunday, a review; military promenades, occasionally; and, every night, patrols. They disturbed the village. They rang the bells of houses for fun; they made their way into the bedrooms where married couples were snoring on the same bolster; then they uttered broad jokes, and the husband, rising up, would go and get them a glass each. Afterwards, they would return to the guardhouse to play a hundred of dominoes, would con-﻿PECUCHET
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sume a quantity of cider there, and eat cheese, while the sentinel, worn out, would keep opening the door every other minute. There was a prevailing absence of discipline, owing to Beljambe's laxity.
When the days of June burst out, everyone was in favour of " flying to the relief of Paris"; but Foureau could not leave the mayoral premises, Marescot his office, the doctor his patients, or Girbal his firemen. M. de Faverges was at Cherbourg. Beljambe kept his bed. The captain grumbled : " They did not want me ; so much the worse ! "—and Bouvard had the wisdom to put restraint on Pecuchet.
The patrols through the country were extended farther. They were panic-stricken by the shadow of a haystack, or by the forms of branches. On one occasion the entire National Guard turned and ran. In the moonlight they had observed, under an apple tree, a man with a gun, taking aim at them. At another time, on a dark night, the patrol, halting under the beech trees, heard someone close at hand. " Who is there ? " No answer.
They allowed the individual to pursue his course, following him at a distance, for he might have a pistol or a tomahawk ; but when they were in the village, within reach of help, the dozen men of the company rushed all together upon him, exclaiming: " Your papers." They pulled him about and﻿236
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overwhelmed him with insults. The men at the guard-house had gone out. They dragged him there; and by the light of the candle that was burning on top of the stove they at last recognised Gorju.
A wretched great-coat of lasting was flapping over his shoulders. His toes could be seen through the holes in his boots. Scratches and bruises stained his face with blood. He was fearfully emaciated, and rolled his eyes about like a wolf.
Foureau, coming up speedily, questioned him as to how he chanced to be under the beech trees, what his object was in coming back to Chavignolles, and also as to the employment of his time for the past six weeks.
" That was no business of theirs. He had his liberty."
Placquevent searched him to find out whether he had cartridges about him.
They were going to imprison him provisionally.
Bouvard interposed.
" No use," replied the mayor; " we know your opinions."
" Nevertheless-"
" Ha! be careful; I give you warning. Be careful."
Bouvard persisted no further.
Gorju then turned towards Pecuchet: "And you, master, have you not a word to say for me ? "
Pecuchet hung down his head, as if he had a suspicion of his innocence.﻿PECUCHET
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The poor wretch smiled bitterly.
" I protected you, all the same."
At daybreak, two gendarmes took him to Falaise.
He was not tried before a court-martial, but was sentenced by the civil tribunal to three months' imprisonment for the misdemeanour of language tending towards the destruction of society. From Falaise he wrote to his former employers to send him soon a certificate of good life and morals, and as their signature required to be legalised by the mayor or the deputy, they preferred to ask Marescot to do this little service for them.
They were introduced into a dining - room, decorated with dishes of fine old earthenware; a Boule clock occupied the narrowest panel. On the mahogany table, without a cloth, there were two napkins, a teapot, and finger-glasses. Madame Marescot crossed the room in a dressing-gown of blue cashmere. She was a Parisian who had got bored with the country. Then the notary came in, with his cap in one hand, a newspaper in the other; and at once, in the most polite fashion, he affixed his seal, although their protege was a dangerous man.
"Really," said Bouvard, "for a few words--"
" When words lead to crimes, my dear sir, give me leave to say."
" And yet," said Pecuchet, " what line of demarcation can you lay down between innocent and guilty phrases ? The thing that just now is prohibited﻿238
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may be subsequently applauded." And he censured the harshness with which the insurgents had been treated.
Marescot naturally rested his case on the necessity of protecting society, the public safety—the supreme law.
"Pardon me!" said Pecuchet, "the right of a single individual is as much entitled to respect as that of all, and you have nothing to oppose to him but force if he turns round your axiom on yourself."
In place of replying, Marescot lifted his brows disdainfully. Provided that he continued to draw up legal documents, and to live in the midst of his plates, in his comfortable little home, injustices of every kind might present themselves without affecting him. Business called him away. He excused himself.
His theory of public safety excited their indignation. The Conservatives now talked like Robespierre.
Another matter for astonishment: Cavaignac was flagging; the Garde Mobile was exposing itself to suspicion. Ledru-Rollin had ruined himself even in Vaucorbeil's estimation. The debates on the Constitution interested nobody, and on the ioth of December all the inhabitants of Chavignolles voted for Bonaparte. The six millions of votes made Pecuchet grow cold with regard to the people, and Bouvard and he proceeded to study the question of universal suffrage.
As it belongs to everybody, it cannot possess intelligence. One ambitious man will always be the﻿PECUCHET
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leader; the others will follow him like a flock of sheep, the electors not being even compelled to know how to read. This was the reason, in Bouvard's opinion, that there were so many frauds at the presidential election.
" None," replied Bouvard; " I believe rather in the gullibility of the people. Think of all who buy the patent health-restorer, the Dupuytren pomatum, the Chatelaine's water, etc. These boobies constitute the majority of the electorate, and we submit to their will. Why cannot an income of three thousand francs be made out of rabbits ? Because the overcrowding of them is a cause of death. In the same way, through the mere fact of its being a multitude, the germs of stupidity contained in it are developed, and thence result consequences that are incalculable."
" Your scepticism frightens me," said Pecuchet.
At a later period, in the spring, they met M. de Faverges, who apprised them of the expedition to Rome. We would not attack the Italians, but we would require guarantees. Otherwise our influence would be destroyed. Nothing would be more legitimate than this intervention.
Bouvard opened his eyes wide. " On the subject of Poland, you maintained the contrary."
" It is no longer the same thing." It was now a question of the Pope.
And M. de Faverges, when he said " we wish," "we will do," "we calculate clearly," represented a group.﻿240
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Bouvard and Pecuchet were disgusted with the minority quite as much as with the majority. The common people, in short, were just the same as the aristocracy.
The right of intervention appeared to them dubious. They sought for its principles in Calvo, Martens, Vattel; and Bouvard's conclusion was this :
" There may be intervention to restore a prince to the throne, to emancipate a people, or, for the sake of precaution, in view of a public danger. In the two cases it is an outrage on the rights of others, an abuse of force, a piece of hypocritical violence."
" And yet," said Pecuchet, " peoples have a solidarity as well as men."
" Perhaps so." And Bouvard sank into a reverie.
The expedition to Rome soon commenced.
At home, through hatred of revolutionary ideas, the leaders of the Parisian middle class got two printing-offices sacked. The great party of order was formed.
It had for its chiefs in the arrondissement the count, Foureau, Marescot, and the cure. Every day, about four o'clock, they walked from one end to the other of the green, and talked over the events of the day. The principal business was the distribution of pamphlets. The titles did not lack attractiveness: " God will be pleased with it"; "The Sharing"; "Let us get out of the mess"; "Where are we going?" The finest things﻿PECUCHET
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amongst them were the dialogues in the style of villagers, with oaths and bad French, to elevate the mental faculties of the peasants. By a new law the hawking of pamphlets would be in the hands of the prefects ; and they had just crammed Proudhon into St. Pelagie—gigantic triumph !
The trees of liberty were generally torn down. Chavignolles obeyed orders. Bouvard saw with his own eyes the fragments of his poplar on a wheelbarrow. They helped to warm the gendarmes, and the stump was offered to the cure, who had nevertheless blessed it. What a mockery !
The schoolmaster did not hide his way of thinking.
Bouvard and Pecuchet congratulated him on it one day as they were passing in front of his door. Next day he presented himself at their residence.
At the end of the week they returned his visit.
The day was declining. The brats had just gone home, and the schoolmaster, in half-sleeves, was sweeping the yard. His wife, with a neckerchief tied round her head, was suckling a baby. A little girl was hiding herself behind her petticoat; a hideous-looking child was playing on the ground at her feet. The water from the washing she had been doing in the kitchen was flowing to the lower end of the house.
" You see," said the schoolmaster, " how the government treats us."
And forthwith he began finding fault with capital
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as an infamous thing. It was necessary to democratise it, to enfranchise matter.
" I ask for nothing better," said Pecuchet.
At least, they ought to have recognised the right to assistance.
" One more right! " said Bouvard.
No matter ! The provisional government had acted in a flabby fashion by not ordaining fraternity.
" Then try to establish it."
As there was no longer daylight, Petit rudely ordered his wife to carry up a candle to his study.
The lithograph portraits of the orators of the Left were fastened with pins to the plaster walls. A bookshelf stood above a deal writing-desk. There were a chair, stool, and an old soap-box for persons to sit down upon. He made a show of laughing. But want had laid its traces on his cheeks, and his narrow temples indicated the stubbornness of a ram, an intractable pride. He would never yield.
" Besides, see what sustains me ! "
It was a pile of newspapers on a shelf, and in feverish phrases he explained the articles of his faith: disarmament of troops, abolition of the magistracy, equality of salaries, a levelling process by which the golden age was to be brought about under the form of the Republic, with a dictator at its head—a fellow that would carry this out for us briskly !
Then he reached out for a bottle of aniseed cordial and three glasses, in order to propose the toast of the hero, the immortal victim, the great Maximilian.﻿PECUCHET
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On the threshold appeared the black cassock of the priest. Having saluted those present in an animated fashion, he addressed the schoolmaster, speaking almost in a whisper :
" Our business about St. Joseph, what stage is it at ? "
" They have given nothing," replied the schoolmaster.
" That is your fault! "
" I have done what I could."
" Ha ! really ? "
Bouvard and Pecuchet discreetly rose up. Petit made them sit down again, and addressing the cure :
" Is that all ? "
The Abbe Jeufroy hesitated. Then, with a smile which tempered his reprimand :
"It is supposed that you are rather negligent about sacred history."
" Oh, sacred history ! " interrupted Bouvard.
" What fault have you to find with it, sir ? "
" I—none. Only there are perhaps more useful things to be learned than the anecdote of Jonas and the story of the kings of Israel."
" You are free to do as you please," replied the priest drily.
And without regard for the strangers, or on account of their presence :
" The catechism hour is too short."
Petit shrugged his shoulders.
" Mind ! You will lose your boarders ! "
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The ten francs a month for these pupils formed the best part of his remuneration. But the cassock exasperated him :
" So much the worse ; take your revenge ! "
" A man of my character does not revenge himself," said the priest, without being moved. " Only I would remind you that the law of the 15th of March assigns to us the superintendence of primary education."
" Ah ! I know that well," cried the schoolmaster. " It is given even to colonels of gendarmes. Why not to the rural guard ? That would complete the thing ! "
And he sank down on the stool, biting his fingers, repressing his rage, stifled by the feeling of his own povverlessness.
The priest touched him lightly on the shoulder.
" I did not intend to annoy you, my friend. Keep yourself quiet. Be a little reasonable. Here is Easter close at hand; I hope you will show an example by going to communion along with the others."
" That is too much! I—I submit to such absurdities ! "
At this blasphemy the cure turned pale, his eyeballs gleamed, his jaw quivered.
" Silence, unhappy man ! silence !—and it is his wife who looks after the church linen! "
" Well, what then ? What has she done to you ? "﻿PECUCHET
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" She always stays away from mass. Like yourself, for that matter ! "
" Oh ! a schoolmaster is not sent away for a thing of that kind ! "
" He can be removed." The priest said no more.
He was at the end of the room, in the shadow. Petit was thinking, with his head resting on his chest.
They would arrive at the other end of France, their last sou eaten up by the journey, and they would again find down there, under different names, the same cure, the same superintendent, the same prefect—all, even to the minister, were like links in a chain dragging him down. He had already got one warning—others would follow. After that ? —and in a kind of hallucination he saw himself walking along a high-road, a bag on his back, those whom he loved by his side, and his hand held out towards a post-chaise.
At that moment his wife was seized with a fit of coughing in the kitchen, the new-born infant began to squeal, and the boy was crying.
" Poor children ! " said the priest in a softened voice.
The father thereupon broke into sobs : " Yes, yes ! whatever you require ! " " I count upon it," replied the cure. And, having made the customary bow : " Well, good evening to you, gentlemen."﻿246
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The schoolmaster remained ■ with his face in his hands.
He pushed away Bouvard. " No! let me alone. I feel as if I'd like to die. I am an unfortunate man."
The two friends, when they reached their own house, congratulated themselves on their independence. The power of the clergy terrified them.
It was now employed for the purpose of strengthening public order. The Republic was about to disappear.
Three millions of electors found themselves excluded from universal suffrage. The security required from newspapers was raised; the press censorship was re-established. It was even suggested that it should be put in force against the fiction columns. Classical philosophy was considered dangerous. The commercial classes preached the dogma of material interests; and the populace seemed satisfied.
The country-people came back to their old masters.
M. de Fa verges, who had estates in Eure, was declared a member of the Legislative Assembly, and his re-election for the general council of Calvados was certain beforehand.
He thought proper to invite the leading personages in the district to a luncheon.
The vestibule, in which three servants were waiting to take their overcoats, the billiard-room and the pair of drawing-rooms, the plants in china﻿PECUCHET
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vases, the bronzes on the mantelshelves, the gold wands on the panelled walls, the heavy curtains, the wide armchairs—this display of luxury struck them at once as a mark of courtesy towards them ; and, when they entered the dining-room, at the sight of the table laden with meats in silver dishes, together with the row of glasses before each plate, the side-dishes here and there, and a salmon in the middle, every face brightened up.
They were seventeen in number, including two sturdy agriculturists, the sub-prefect of Bayeux and an individual from Cherbourg. M. de Faverges begged of his guests to excuse the countess, who was absent owing to a headache; and, after some commendations of the pears and grapes, which filled four baskets at the corners, he asked about the great news—the project of a descent on England by Changarnier.
Heurtaux desired it as a soldier, the cure through hatred of the Protestants, and Foureau in the interests of commerce.
"You are giving expression," said Pecuchet, "to the sentiments of the Middle Ages."
" The Middle Ages had their good side," returned Marescot. " For instance, our cathedrals."
" However, sir, the abuses-"
" No matter—the Revolution would not have come."
" Ha ! the Revolution—there's the misfortune," said the ecclesiastic with a sigh.﻿248
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" But everyone contributed towards it, and (excuse me, M. le Comte) the nobles themselves by their alliance with the philosophers."
"What is it you want? Louis XVIII. legalised spoliation. Since that time the parliamentary system is sapping the foundations on you."
A joint of roast beef made its appearance, and for some minutes nothing was heard save the sounds made by forks and moving jaws, and by the servants crossing the floor with the two words on their lips, which they kept constantly repeating:
" Madeira ! Sauterne ! "
The conversation was resumed by the gentleman from Cherbourg:
" How were they to stop on the slope of an abyss ? "
" Amongst the Athenians," said Marescot— " amongst the Athenians, towards whom we bear certain resemblances, Solon checkmated the democrats by raising the electoral census."
" It would be better," said Hurel, " to suppress the Chamber : every disorder comes from Paris."
" Let us decentralise," said the notary.
" On a large scale," added the count.
In Foureau's opinion the communal authorities should have absolute control, even to the extent of prohibiting travellers from using their roads, if they thought fit.
And whilst the dishes followed each other—fowl with gravy, lobsters, mushrooms, salads, roast larks﻿PECUCHET
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—many topics were handled : the best system of taxation, the advantages of the large system of land cultivation, the abolition of the death penalty. The sub-prefect did not forget to cite that charming witticism of a clever man: " Let Messieurs the Assassins begin ! "
Bouvard was astonished at the contrast between the surroundings and the remarks that reached his ears ; for one would think that the language used ought always to harmonise with the environment, and that lofty ceilings should be made for great thoughts. Nevertheless he was flushed at dessert, and saw the fruit-dishes as if through a fog. Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Malaga were amongst the wines sent round. M. de Faverges, who knew the people he had to deal with, made the champagne flow. The guests, touching glasses, drank to his success at the election ; and more than three hours elapsed before they passed out into the smoking-room, where coffee was served.
A caricature from Charivari was trailing on the floor between some copies of the Univers. It represented a citizen the skirts of whose frock-coat allowed a tail to be seen with an eye at the end of it. Marescot explained it amid much laughter.
They swallowed their liqueurs, and the ashes of their cigars fell on the paddings of the furniture.
The abbe, anxious to convince Girbal, began an attack on Voltaire. Coulon fell asleep. M. de Faverges avowed his devotion to Chambord.﻿250
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"The bees furnish an argument for monarchy." " But the ants for the Republic." However, the doctor adhered to it no longer.
" You are right," said the sub-prefect; " the form of government matters little."
"With liberty," suggested Pecuchet. " An honest man has no need of it," replied Foureau. " I make no speeches, for my part. I am not a journalist. And I tell you that France requires to be governed with a rod of iron."
All of them called for a deliverer. As they were going out, Bouvard and Pecuchet heard M. de Faverges saying to the Abbe Jeufroy:
" We must re-establish obedience. Authority perishes if it be made the subject of discussion. The Divine Right—there is nothing but that! " "Exactly, M. le Comte."
The pale rays of an October sun were lengthening out behind the woods. A moist wind was blowing, and as they walked over the dead leaves they breathed like men who had just been set free.
All that they had not found the opportunity of saying escaped from them in exclamations : " What idiots ! " " What baseness ! "
" How was it possible to imagine such obstinacy !" " In the first place, what is the meaning of the Divine Right ? "
Dumouchel's friend, that professor who had﻿PECUCHET
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supplied them with instruction on the subject of aesthetics, replied to their inquiries in a learned letter.
" The theory of Divine Right was formulated in the reign of Charles II. by the Englishman Filmer. Here it is:
"'The Creator gave the first man dominion over the world. It was transmitted to his descendants, and the power of the King emanates from God.'
" ' He is His image,' writes Bossuet. ' The paternal empire accustoms us to the domination of one alone. Kings have been made after the model of parents.'
" Locke refuted this doctrine: ' The paternal power is distinguished from the monarchic, every subject having the same right over his children that the monarch has over his own. Royalty exists only through the popular choice; and even the election was recalled at the ceremony of coronation, in which two bishops, pointing towards the King, asked both nobles and peasants whether they accepted him as such.'
" Therefore, authority comes from the people.
"' They have the right to do what they like,' says Helvetius ; to ' change their constitution,' says Vattel; to ' revolt against injustice,' according to the contention of Glafey, Hotman, Mably, and others; and St. Thomas Aquinas authorises them to ' deliver themselves from a tyrant.' ' They are even,' says Jurieu, 'dispensed from being right.'"﻿252
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Astonished at the axiom they took up Rousseau's " Contrat Social." Pecuchet went through to the end. Then closing his eyes, and throwing back his head, he made an analysis of it.
" A convention is assumed whereby the individual gives up his liberty.
"The people at the same time undertook to protect him against the inequalities of nature, and made him owner of the things which he had in his possession."
"Where is the proof of the contract?"
" Nowhere ! And the community does not offer any guarantee. The citizens occupy themselves exclusively with politics. But as callings are necessary, Rousseau is in favour of slavery. ' The sciences have destroyed the human race. The theatre is corrupting, money fatal, and the state ought to impose a religion under the penalty of death.'"
"What!" said they, "here is the pontiff" of democracy."
All the champions of reform had copied him; and they procured the " Examen du Socialisme," by Morant.
The first chapter explained the doctrine of Saint-Simon.
At the top the Father, at the same time Pope and Emperor. Abolition of inheritance ; all property movable and immovable forming a social fund, which will be worked on a hierarchical basis. The manufacturers are to govern the public fortune. But﻿PECUCHET
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there is nothing to be afraid of; they will have as a leader the "one who loves the most."
One thing is lacking, woman. On the advent of woman depends the salvation of the world.
" I do not understand."
" Nor I."
And they turned to Fourierism:
" ' All misfortunes come from constraint. Let the attraction be free, and harmony will be established.
"' In our souls are shut up a dozen leading passions: five egoistical, four animic, and three distributive. The first class have reference to individuals, the second to groups, the last to groups of groups, or series, of which the whole forms a phalanx, a society of eighteen hundred persons dwelling in a palace. Every morning carriages convey the workers into the country, and bring them back in the evening. Standards are carried, festivities are held, cakes are eaten. Every woman, if she desires it, can have three men—the husband, the lover, and the procreator. For celibates, the Bayadere system is established-' "
" That fits me! " said Bouvard. And he lost himself in dreams of the harmonious world.
" ' By the restoration of climatures, the earth will become more beautiful; by the crossing of races, human life will become longer. The clouds will be guided as the thunderbolt is now: it will rain at night in the cities so that they will be clean.﻿254
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Ships will cross the polar seas, thawed beneath the Aurora Borealis. For everything is produced by the conjunction of two fluids, male and female, gushing out from the poles, and the northern lights are a symptom of the rut of the planets—a prolific emission.' "
" This is beyond me! " said Pecuchet. After Saint-Simon and Fourier the problem resolves itself into questions of wages.
Louis Blanc, in the interests of the working class, wants to abolish external commerce; Lafarelle to tax machinery; another to take off the drink duties, or restore trade wardenships, or distribute soups.
Proudhon conceives the idea of a uniform tariff, and claims for the state the monopoly of sugar.
" These socialists," said Bouvard, " always call for tyranny." "Oh, no!" " Yes, indeed ! " " You are absurd ! " " Well, I am shocked at you ! " They sent for the works of which they had only got summaries. Bouvard noted a number of passages, and, pointing them out, said:
" Read for yourself. They offer as examples to us the Essenes, the Moravian Brethren, the Jesuits of Paraguay, and even the government of prisons."
" 1 Amongst the Icarians breakfast was over in﻿PECUCHET
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twenty minutes; women were delivered at the hospitals. As for books, it was forbidden to print them without the authorisation of the Republic.' " " But Cabet is an idiot."
" Here, now, we have from Saint-Simon : ' The publicists should submit their works to a committee of manufacturers.'
" And from Pierre Leroux : ' The law will compel the citizens to listen to an orator.'
" And from Auguste Comte: ' The priests will educate the youth, will exercise supervision over literary works, and will reserve to themselves the power of regulating procreation.' "
These quotations troubled Pecuchet. In the evening, at dinner, he replied:
" I admit that there are absurdities in the works of the inventors of Utopias ; nevertheless they deserve our sympathy. The hideousness of the world tormented them, and, in order to make it beautiful, they endured everything. Recall to mind More decapitated, Campanella put seven times to the torture, Buonarotti with a chain round his neck, Saint-Simon dying of want; many others. They might have lived in peace; but no ! they marched on their way with their heads towards the sky, like heroes."
" Do you believe," said Bouvard, " that the world will change, thanks to the theories of some particular gentleman ? "
" What does it matter ? " said Pecuchet; "it﻿256
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is time to cease stagnating in selfishness. Let us look out for the best system."
" Then you expect to find it ? "
" Certainly."
" You ?"
And, in the fit of laughter with which Bouvard was seized, his shoulders and stomach kept shaking in harmony. Redder than the jams in front of them, with his napkin under his armpits, he kept repeating, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " in an irritating fashion.
Pecuchet left the room, slamming the door after him.
Germaine went to call him all over the house, and he was found at the end of his own apartment in an easy chair, without fire or candle, his cap drawn over his eyes. He was not unwell, but had given himself up to his own broodings.
When the quarrel was over they recognised that a foundation was needed for their studies—political economy.
They inquired into supply and demand, capital and rent, importation and prohibition.
One night Pecuchet was awakened by the creaking of a boot in the corridor. The evening before, according to custom, he had himself drawn all the bolts; and he called out to Bouvard, who was fast asleep.
They remained motionless under the coverlets. The noise was not repeated.
The servants, on being questioned, said they had heard nothing.﻿PECUCHET
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But, while walking through the garden, they remarked in the middle of a flower-bed, near the gateway, the imprint of a boot sole, and two of the sticks used as supports for the trees were broken. Evidently someone had climbed over.
It was necessary to give notice of it to the rural guard.
As he was not at the municipal building, Pecu-chet thought of going to the grocer's shop.
Who should they see in the back shop, beside Placquevent, in the midst of the topers, but Gorju —Gorju, rigged out like a well-to-do citizen, entertaining the company !
This meeting was taken as a matter of course.
So on they lapsed into a discussion about progress.
Bouvard had no doubt it existed in the domain of science. But in that of literature it was not so manifest; and if comfort increases, the poetic side of life disappears.
Pecuchet, in order to bring home conviction on the point, took a piece of paper: "I trace across here an undulating line. Those who happen to travel over it, whenever it sinks, can no longer see the horizon. It rises again nevertheless, and, in spite of its windings, they reach the top. This is an image of progress."
Madame Bordin entered at this point.
It was the 3rd of December, 1851. She had the newspaper in her hand.
They read very quickly, side by side, the news
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of the appeal to the people, the dissolution of the Chamber, and the imprisonment of the deputies.
Pecuchet turned pale. Bouvard gazed at the widow.
" What! have you nothing to say ? "
" What do you want me to do here ? " (They had forgotten to offer her a seat.) " I came here simply out of courtesy towards you, and you are scarcely civil to-day."
And out she went, disgusted at their want of politeness.
The astonishing news had struck them dumb. Then they went about the village venting their indignation.
Marescot, whom they found surrounded by a pile of deeds, took a different view. The babbling of the Chamber was at an end, thank Heaven ! Henceforth they would have a business policy.
Beljambe knew nothing about the occurrences, and, furthermore, he laughed at them.
In the market-place they stopped Vaucorbeil.
The physician had got over all that. " You are very foolish to bother yourselves."
Foureau passed them by, remarking with a sly air, " The democrats are swamped."
And the captain, with Girbal's arm in his, exclaimed from a distance, " Long live the Emperor!"
But Petit would be sure to understand them, and Bouvard having tapped at a window-pane, the schoolmaster quitted his class.﻿PECUCHET
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He thought it a good joke to have Thiers in prison. This would avenge the people.
" Ha ! ha! my gentlemen deputies, your turn now!"
The volley of musketry on the boulevards met with the approval of the people of Chavignolles. No mercy for the vanquished, no pity for the victims! Once you revolt, you are a scoundrel!
" Let us be grateful to Providence," said the cure, " and under Providence to Louis Bonaparte. He gathers around him the most distinguished men. The Count de Faverges will be made a senator."
Next day they had a visit from Placquevent.
"These gentlemen" had talked a great deal. He required a promise from them to hold their tongues.
" Do you want to know my opinion ?" said Pecu-chet. " Since the middle class are ferocious and the working-men jealous-minded, whilst the people, after all, accept every tyrant, as long as they are allowed to keep their snouts in the mess, Napoleon has done right. Let him gag them, the rabble, and exterminate them—this will never be too much for their hatred of right, their cowardice, their incapacity, and their blindness."
Bouvard mused: " Hey ! progress ! what humbug ! " He added: " And politics, a nice heap of dirt!"
" It is not a science," returned Pecuchet. " The military art is better : you can tell what will happen —we ought to turn our hands to it."
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" Oh, thanks," was Bouvard's answer. " I am disgusted with everything. Better for us to sell our barrack, and go in the name of God's thunder amongst the savages."
" Just as you like."
Melie was drawing water out in the yard.
The wooden pump had a long lever. In order to make it work, she bent her back, so that her blue stockings could be seen as high as the calf of her legs. Then, with a rapid movement, she raised her right arm, while she turned her head a little to one side; and Pecuchet, as he gazed at her, felt quite a new sensation, a charm, a thrill of intense delight.﻿VII
ND now the days began to be sad.
They studied no longer, fearing lest they might be disillusioned. The inhabitants of Chavignolles avoided them. The newspapers which they tolerated gave them no information ; and so their solitude was unbroken, their time completely unoccupied.
Sometimes they would open a book, and then shut it again—what was the use of it ? On other days they would be seized with the idea of cleaning up the garden: at the end of a quarter of an hour they would get fatigued ; or they would set out to have a look at the farm, and would come back disenchanted; or would try to interest themselves in household affairs, with the result of making Germaine break out into lamentations. They gave it up.
Bouvard wanted to draw up a catalogue for the museum, and declared " these curios " stupid.
Pecuchet borrowed Langlois' duck-gun to shoot larks with; the weapon burst at the first shot, and was near killing him.﻿262
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Then they lived in the midst of that rural solitude so depressing when the grey sky folds in its monotony a heart without hope. The step of a man in wooden shoes is heard as he steals along by the wall, or perchance it is the rain dripping from the roof to the ground. From time to time a dead leaf just grazes one of the windows, then whirls about and flies away. The indistinct echoes of some funeral bell are borne to the ear by th£ wind. From a corner of the stable comes the lowing of a cow. They yawned in one another's faces, consulted the almanac, looked at the clock, waited for meal-time; and the horizon was ever the same —fields in front, the church to the right, a screen of poplars to the left, their tops swaying incessantly in the hazy atmosphere with a melancholy air.
Habits which they formerly tolerated now gave them annoyance. Pecuchet became quite a bore from his mania for putting his handkerchief on the tablecloth. Bouvard never gave up his pipe, and would keep twisting himself about while he was talking. They started disputes about the dishes, or about the quality of the butter ; and while they were chatting face to face they were each thinking of different things.
A certain occurrence had upset Pecuchet's mind.
Two days after the riot at Chavignolles, while he was airing his political grievance, he reached a road covered with tufted elms, and he heard behind his back a voice exclaiming, " Stop ! "﻿PliCUCHET
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It was Madame Castillon. She was rushing across from the opposite side without perceiving him.
A man who was walking along in front of her turned round. It was Gorju; and they met some six feet away from Pecuchet, the row of trees separating them from him.
"Is it true," said she, " you are going to fight ?"
P6cuchet slipped behind the ditch to listen.
" Well, yes," replied Gorju; " I am going to fight. What has that to do with you ? "
" He asks me such a question! " cried she, flinging her arms about. " But, if you are killed, my love ! Oh ! remain ! "
And her blue eyes, still more than her words, appealed to him.
" Let me alone. I have to go."
There was an angry sneer on her face.
" The other has permitted it, eh ? "
" Don't speak of her."
He raised his fist.
" No, dear ; no. I don't say anything." And big tears trickled down her cheeks as far as the frilling of her collarette.
It was midday. The sun shone down upon the fields covered with yellow grain. Far in the distance carriage-wheels softly slipped along the road. There was a torpor in the air—not a bird's cry, not an insect's hum. Gorju cut himself a switch and scraped off the bark.
Madame Castillon did not again raise her head.﻿264
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She, poor woman, was thinking of her vain sacrifices for him, the debts she had paid for him, her future liabilities, and her lost reputation. Instead of complaining, she recalled for him the first days of their love, when she used to go every night to meet him in the barn, so that her husband on one occasion, fancying it was a thief, fired a pistol-shot through the window. The bullet was in the wall still. " From the moment I first knew you, you seemed to me as handsome as a prince. I love your eyes, your voice, your walk, your smell," and in a lower tone she added : " and as for your person, I am fairly cracked about it."
He listened with a smile of gratified vanity.
She clasped him with both hands round the waist, her head bent as if in adoration.
" My dear heart! my dear love ! my soul! my life ! Come ! speak ! What is it you want ? Is it money ? We'll get it. I was in the wrong. I annoyed you. Forgive me ; and order clothes from the tailor, drink champagne—enjoy yourself. I will allow everything—everything."
She murmured with a supreme effort, " Even her—as long as you come back to me."
He just touched her lips with his, drawing one arm around her to prevent her from falling; and she kept murmuring, " Dear heart! dear love ! how handsome you are! My God! how handsome you are!"
Pecuchet, without moving an inch, his chin just﻿p£cuchet
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touching the top of the ditch, stared at them in breathless astonishment.
" Come, no swooning," said Gorju. " You'll only have me missing the coach. A glorious bit of devilment is getting ready, and I'm in the swim; so just give me ten sous to stand the conductor a drink."
She took five francs out of her purse. " You will soon give them back to me. Have a little patience. He has been a good while paralysed. Think of that! And, if you liked, we could go to the chapel of Croix-Janval, and there, my love, I would swear before the Blessed Virgin to marry you as soon as he is dead."
" Ah ! he'll never die—that husband of yours."
Gorju had turned on his heel. She caught hold of him again, and clinging to his shoulders:
" Let me go with you. I will be your servant. You want someone. But don't go away! don't leave me! Death rather! Kill me!"
She crawled towards him on her knees, trying to seize his hands in order to kiss them. Her cap fell off, then her comb, and her hair got dishevelled. It was turning white around her ears, and, as she looked up at him, sobbing bitterly, with red eyes and swollen lips, he got quite exasperated, and pushed her back.
" Be off, old woman ! Good evening."
When she had got up, she tore off the gold cross that hung round her neck, and flinging it at him :﻿266
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" There, you ruffian ! "
Gorju went off, lashing the leaves of the trees with his switch.
Madame Castillon ceased weeping. With fallen jaw and tear-dimmed eyes she stood motionless, petrified with despair; no longer a being, but a thing in ruins.
What he had just chanced upon was for Pecuchet like the discovery of a new world—a world in which there were dazzling splendours, wild blossomings, oceans, tempests, treasures, and abysses of infinite depth. There was something about it that excited terror; but what of that ? He dreamed of love, desired to feel it like her, and to inspire it like him.
However, he execrated Gorju, and could hardly keep from giving information about him at the guardhouse.
Pecuchet was mortified by the slim waist, the regular curls, and the smooth beard of Madame Castillon's lover, as well as by the air of a conquering hero which the fellow assumed, while his own hair was pasted to his skull like a soaked wig, his torso wrapped in a great coat resembled a bolster, two of his front teeth were out, and his physiognomy had a harsh expression. He thought that Heaven had dealt unkindly with him, and felt that he was one of the disinherited ; moreover, his friend no longer cared for him.
Bouvard deserted him every evening. After his wife's death, there was nothing to prevent him﻿P&CUCHET
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from taking another, who, by this time, might be coddling him up and looking after his house. And now he was getting too old to think of it.
But Bouvard examined himself in the glass. His cheeks had kept their colour; his hair curled just the same as of yore; not a tooth was loose; and, at the idea that he had still the power to please, he felt a return of youthfulness. Madame Bordin rose up in his memory. She had made advances to him, first on the occasion of the burning of the stacks, next at the dinner which they gave, then in the museum at the recital, and lastly, without resenting any want of attention on his part, she had called three Sundays in succession. He paid her a return visit, and repeated it, making up his mind to woo and win her.
Since the day when Pecuchet had watched the little servant-maid drawing water, he had frequently talked to her, and whether she was sweeping the corridor or spreading out the linen, or taking up the saucepans, he could never grow tired of looking at her—surprised himself at his emotions, as in the days of adolescence. He had fevers and languors on account of her, and he was stung by the picture left in his memory of Madame Castillon straining Gorju to her breast.
He questioned Bouvard as to the way libertines set about seducing women.
" They make them presents ; they bring them to restaurants for supper."﻿268
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"Very good. But after that?"
" Some of them pretend to faint, in order that you may carry them over to a sofa; others let their handkerchiefs fall on the ground. The best of them plainly make an appointment with you." And Bou-vard launched forth into descriptions which inflamed Pecuchet's imagination, like obscene engravings.
" The first rule is not to believe what they say. I have known ones who, under the appearance of saints, were regular Messalinas. Above all, you must be bold."
But boldness cannot be had to order.
From day to day Pecuchet put off his determination, and besides he was intimidated by the presence of Germaine.
Hoping that she would ask to have her wages paid, he exacted additional work from her, took notice every time she got tipsy, referred in a loud voice to her want of cleanliness, her quarrelsomeness, and did it all so effectively that she had to go.
Then Pecuchet was free ! With what impatience he waited for Bouvard to go out! What a throbbing of the heart he felt as soon as the door closed !
Melie was working at a round table near the window by the light of a candle; from time to time she broke the threads with her teeth, then she half-closed her eyes while adjusting it in the slit of the needle.
At first he wanted to know what kind of men she liked. Was it, for instance, Bouvard's style ?﻿PECUCHET
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" Oh, no." She preferred thin men.
He ventured to ask her if she ever had any lovers.
" Never."
Then, drawing closer to her, he surveyed her piquant nose, her small mouth, her charmingly-rounded figure. He paid her some compliments, and exhorted her to prudence.
In bending over her he got a glimpse under her corsage of her white skin, from which emanated a warm odour that made his cheeks tingle. One evening he touched with his lips the wanton hairs at the back of her neck, and he felt shaken even to the marrow of his bones. Another time he kissed her on the chin, and had to restrain himself from putting his teeth in her flesh, so savoury was it. She returned his kiss. The apartment whirled round ; he no longer saw anything.
He made her a present of a pair of lady's boots, and often treated her to a glass of aniseed cordial.
To save her trouble he rose early, chopped up the wood, lighted the fire, and was so attentive as to clean Bouvard's shoes.
Melie did not faint or let her handkerchief fall, and Pecuchet did not know what to do, his passion increasing through the fear of satisfying it.
Bouvard was assiduously paying his addresses to Madame Bordin. She used to receive him rather cramped up in her dress of shot silk, which creaked like a horse's harness, all the while fingering her long gold chain to keep herself in countenance.﻿270
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Their conversations turned on the people of Chavignolles or on " the dear departed," who had been an usher at Livarot.
Then she inquired about Bouvard's past, curious to know something of his " youthful freaks," the way in which he had fallen in for his fortune, and the interests by which he was bound to Pecuchet.
He admired the appearance of her house, and when he came to dinner there was struck by the neatness with which it was served and the excellent fare placed on the table. A succession of dishes of the most savoury description, which intermingled at regular intervals with a bottle of old Pomard, brought them to the dessert, at which they remained a long time sipping their coffee ; and, with dilating nostrils, Madame Bordin dipped into her saucer her thick lip, lightly shaded with a black down.
One day she appeared in a low dress. Her shoulders fascinated Bouvard. As he sat in a little chair in front of her, he began to pass his two hands along her arms. The widow seemed offended. He did not repeat this attention, but he pictured to himself those ample curves, so marvellously smooth and fine.
Any evening when he felt dissatisfied with Melie's cooking, it gave him pleasure to enter Madame Bordin's drawing-room. It was there he should have lived.
The globe of the lamp, covered with a red shade, shed round a tranquil light. She was﻿PECUCHET
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seated close to the fire, and his foot touched the hem of her dress.
After a few opening words the conversation flagged.
However, she kept gazing at him, with half-closed lids, in a languid fashion, but unbending withal.
Bouvard could not stand it any longer, and, sinking on his knees to the floor, he stammered:
" I love you! Marry me ! "
Madame Bordin drew a strong breath; then, with an ingenuous air, said he was jesting; no doubt he was trying to have a laugh at her expense— it was not fair. This declaration stunned her.
Bouvard returned that he did not require anyone's consent. " What's to hinder you ? Is it the trousseau ? Our linen has the same mark, a B— we'll unite our capital letters! "
The idea caught her fancy. But a more important matter prevented her from arriving at a decision before the end of the month. And Bouvard groaned.
She had the politeness to accompany him to the gate, escorted by Marianne, who carried a lantern.
The two friends kept their love affairs hidden from one another.
Pecuchet counted on always cloaking his intrigue with the servant-maid. If Bouvard made any opposition to it, he could carry her off to other places, even though it were to Algeria, where living is not so dear. But he rarely indulged in such speculations, full as﻿272
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he was of his passion, without thinking of the consequences.
Bouvard conceived the idea of converting the museum into the bridal chamber, unless Pecuchet objected, in which case he might take up his residence at his wife's house.
One afternoon in the following week—it was in her garden ; the buds were just opening, and between the clouds there were great blue spaces—she stopped to gather some violets, and said as she offered them to him:
" Salute Madame Bouvard ! "
"What! Is it true?"
"Perfectly true."
He was going to clasp her in his arms. She kept him back. " What a man ! " Then, growing serious, she warned him that she would shortly be asking him for a favour.
" 'Tis granted."
They fixed the following Thursday for the formality of signing the marriage contract.
Nobody should know anything about it up to the last moment.
"Agreed."
And off he went, looking up towards the sky, nimble as a roebuck.
Pecuchet on the morning of the same day said in his own mind that he would die if he did not obtain the favours of his little maid, and he followed her into the cellar, hoping the darkness would give him courage.﻿﻿No, my little angel. Don't be afraid."﻿PECUCHET
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She wanted to go away several times, but he detained her in order to count the bottles, to choose laths, or to look into the bottoms of casks—and this occupied a considerable time.
She stood facing him under the light that penetrated through an air-hole, with her eyes cast down, and the corner of her mouth slightly raised.
" Do you love me ? " said Pecuchet abruptly.
" Yes, I do love you."
" Well, then prove it to me."
And throwing his left arm around-her, he began with his other hand to unfasten her corset.
" You're going to do me some harm."
" No, my little angel. Don't be afraid."
" If M. Bouvard-"
" I'll tell him nothing. Make your mind easy;"
There was a heap of faggots behind them. She let herself fall on them, her breasts outside her chemise, and her head thrown back; then she hid her face under one arm;—and another man would have understood that she was no novice.
Bouvard arrived soon for dinner.
The meal passed in silence, each of them being afraid of betraying himself, while Melie attended them with her usual impassiveness.
Pecuchet turned away his eyes to avoid hers; and Bouvard, his gaze resting on the walls, pondered meanwhile on his projected improvements.
Eight days after he came back in a towering rage.
" The damned bitch ! "
18﻿274
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" Who, pray ? "
" Madame Bordin."
And he related how he had been so infatuated as to offer to make her his wife, but it all came to an end a quarter of an hour since at Marescot's office. She wanted to get for her marriage portion the Ecalles meadow, which he could not dispose of, having partly kept it on, like the farm, with the money of another person.
" Exactly," said Pecuchet.
" And I, who had the folly to promise her any favour she asked for—and this was what she wanted! I attribute her obstinacy to this; for if she loved me she would have given way to me."
The widow, on the contrary, had attacked him in insulting language, and referred disparagingly to his physique, his big paunch.
" My paunch! Just imagine for a moment! "
Meanwhile Pecuchet had risen several times, and seemed to be in pain.
Bouvard asked him what was the matter, and thereupon Pecuchet, having first taken the precaution to shut the door, explained in a hesitating manner that he was affected with a certain disease.
" What ! You ? "
" I—myself."
" Oh, my poor fellow ! And who is the cause of this ? "
He became redder than before, and said in a still lower tone :﻿PECUCHET
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" It can only be Melie."
Bouvard remained stupefied.
The first thing to do was to send the young woman away.
She protested with an air of candour.
Pecuchet's case was, however, serious; but he was ashamed to consult a physician.
Bouvard thought of applying to Barberou.
They gave him particulars about the matter, in order that he might communicate with a doctor who would deal with the case by correspondence.
Barberou set to work with zeal, believing it was Bouvard's own case, and calling him an old dotard, even though he congratulated him about it.
" At my age ! " said Pecuchet. " Is it not a melancholy thing ? But why did she do this ? "
" You pleased her."
" She ought to have given me warning."
"Does passion reason?" And Bouvard renewed his complaints about Madame Bordin.
Often had he surprised her before the Ecalles, in Marescot's company, having a gossip with Ger-maine. So many manoeuvres for a little bit of land!
" She is avaricious ! That's the explanation."
So they ruminated over their disappointments by the fireside in the breakfast parlour, Pecuchet swallowing his medicines and Bouvard puffing at his pipe; and they commenced a discussion about women.
18—2﻿276
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" Strange want!—or is it a want ? " " They drive men to crime—to heroism as well as to brutishness." "Hell under a petticoat," "paradise in a kiss," "the turtle's warbling," "the serpent's windings," "the cat's claws," "the sea's treachery," "the moon's changeableness." They repeated all the commonplaces that have been uttered about the sex.
It was the desire for one that had suspended their friendship. A feeling of remorse took possession of them. " No more women. Was not that so ? Let us live without them ! " And they embraced one another tenderly.
There should be a reaction; and Bouvard, when Pecuchet was better, considered that a course of hydropathic treatment would be beneficial.
Germaine, who had come back since the other servant's departure, carried the bathing-tub each morning into the corridor.
The two worthies, naked as savages, poured over themselves big buckets of water; they then rushed back to their rooms. They were seen through the garden fence, and people were scandalised.﻿VIII
ATISFIED with their regimen, they desired to improve their constitutions by gymnastics; and taking up the "Manual of Amoros," they went through its atlas. All those young lads squatting, lying back, ^ standing, bending their legs, lifting weights, riding on beams, climbing ladders, cutting capers on trapezes — such a display of strength and agility excited their envy.
However, they were saddened by the splendour of the gymnasium described in the preface ; for they would never be able to get a vestibule for the equipages, a hippodrome for the races, a sweep of water for the swimming, or a " mountain of glory "— an artificial hillock over one hundred feet in height.
A wooden vaulting-horse with the stuffing would have been expensive : they abandoned the idea. The linden tree, thrown down in the garden, might have been used as a horizontal pole; and, when they were skilful enough to go over it from one end to the other, in order to have a vertical one, they set up a beam of counter-espaliers. Pecuchet clambered to the top; Bouvard slipped off", always fell back, finally gave it up.﻿278
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The " orthosomatic sticks" pleased him better • that is to say, two broomsticks bound by two cords, the first of which passes under the armpits, and the second over the wrists; and for hours he would remain in this apparatus, with his chin raised, his chest extended, and his elbows close to his sides.
For want of dumb-bells, the wheelwright turned out four pieces of ash resembling sugar loaves with necks of bottles at the ends. These clubs should be carried to the right and to the left, to the front and to the back; but being too heavy they fell out of their hands, at the risk of bruising their legs. No matter! They set their hearts on Persian clubs, and even fearing lest they might break, they rubbed them every evening with wax and a piece of cloth.
Then they looked out for ditches. When they found one suitable for their purpose, they rested a long pole in the centre, sprang forward on the left foot, reached the opposite side, and then repeated the performance. The country being flat, they could be seen at a distance; and the villagers asked each other what were these extraordinary things skipping towards the horizon.
When autumn arrived they went in for chamber gymnastics, which completely bored them. Why had they not the indoor apparatus or post-armchair invented in Louis XIV.'s time by the Abbe of St. Pierre ? How was it made ? Where would they get the information ?﻿PECUCHET	279
Dumouchel did not deign to answer their letter on the subject.
Then they erected in the bakehouse a brachial weighing-machine. Over two pulleys attached to the ceiling a rope was passed, holding a crossbeam at each end. As soon as they had caught hold of it one pushed against the ground with his toes, while the other lowered his arms to a level with the floor ; the first by his weight would draw towards him the second, who, slackening his rope a little, would ascend in his turn. In less than five minutes their limbs were dripping with perspiration.
In order to follow the prescriptions of the Manual, they tried to make themselves ambidextrous, even to the extent of depriving themselves for a time of the use of their right hands. They did more : Amoros points out certain snatches of verse which ought to be sung during the manoeuvres, and Bouvard and Pecuchet, as they proceeded, kept repeating the hymn No. 9: "A king, a just king is a blessing on earth."
When they beat their breast-bones: " Friends, the crown and the glory," etc.
At the various steps of the race:
" Let us catch the beast that cowers!
Soon the swift stag shall be ours!
Yes! the race shall soon be won,
Come, run! come, run! come, run!"1
1 "A nous l'animal timide! Atteignons le cerf rapide! Oui! nous vaincons !
Courons! courons! courons!''﻿28c
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And, panting more than hounds, they cheered each other on with the sounds of their voices.
One side of gymnastics excited their enthusiasm —its employment as a means of saving life. But they would have required children in order to learn how to carry them in sacks, and they begged of the schoolmaster to furnish them with some. Petit objected that their families would be annoyed at it. They fell back on the succour of the wounded. One pretended to have swooned : the other rolled him away in a wheelbarrow with the utmost precaution.
As for military escalades, the author extols the ladder of Bois-Rose, so called from the captain who surprised Fecamp in former days by climbing up the cliff.
In accordance with the engraving in the book, they trimmed a rope with little sticks and fixed it under the cartshed. As soon as the first stick is bestridden and the third grasped, the limbs are thrown out in order that the second, which a moment before was against the chest, might be directly under the thighs. The climber then springs up and grasps the fourth, and so goes on.
In spite of prodigious strainings of the hips, they found it impossible to reach the second step. Perhaps there is less trouble in hanging on to stones with your hands, just as Bonaparte's soldiers did at the attack of Fort Chambray ? and to make you capable of such an action, Amoros has a tower in his establishment.﻿p£cuchet
281
The wall in ruins might do as a substitute for it. They attempted the assault with it. But Bou-vard, having withdrawn his foot too quickly from a hole, got frightened, and was seized with dizziness.
Pecuchet blamed their method for it. They had neglected that which relates to the phalanxes, so that they should go back to first principles.
His exhortations were fruitless; and then, in his pride and presumption, he went in for stilts.
Nature seemed to have destined him for them, for he immediately made use of the great model with flat boards four feet from the ground, and, balanced thereon, he stalked over the garden like a gigantic stork taking exercise.
Bouvard, at the window, saw him stagger and then flop down all of a heap over the kidney-beans, whose props, giving way as he descended, broke his fall.
He was picked up covered with mould, his nostrils bleeding—livid ; and he fancied that he had strained himself.
Decidedly, gymnastics did not agree with men of their age. They abandoned them, did not venture to move about any longer for fear of accidents, and they remained the whole day sitting in the museum dreaming of other occupations.
This change of habits had an influence on Bou-vard's health. He became very heavy, puffed like a whale after his meals, wanted to make himself thin, ate less, and began to grow weak.﻿282
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Pecuchet, in like manner, felt himself " undermined," had itchings in his skin and lumps in his throat.
"This won't do," said they; "this won't do."
Bouvard thought of going to select at the inn some bottles of Spanish wine in order to put his bodily machinery in order.
As he was going out, Marescot's clerk and three men brought from Beljambe a large walnut table. " Monsieur" was much obliged to him for it. It had been conveyed in perfect order.
Bouvard in this way learned about the new fashion of table-turning. He joked about it with the clerk.
However, all over Europe, America, Australia and the Indies, millions of mortals passed their lives in making tables turn; and they discovered the way to make prophets of canaries, to give concerts without instruments, and to correspond by means of snails. The press, seriously offering these impostures to the public, increased its credulity.
The spirit-rappers had alighted at the chateau of Faverges, and had thence spread through the village ; and the notary questioned them particularly.
Shocked at Bouvard's scepticism, he invited the two friends to an evening party at table-turning.
Was this a trap ? Madame Bordin was to be there. Pecuchet went there alone.
There were present as spectators the mayor, the﻿PliCUCHET
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tax-collector, the captain, other residents and their wives, Madame Vaucorbeil, Madame Bordin, of course, besides Mademoiselle Laverriere, Madame Marescot's former schoolmistress, a rather squint-eyed lady with her hair falling over her shoulders in the corkscrew fashion of 1830. In an armchair sat a cousin from Paris, attired in a blue coat and wearing an air of insolence.
The two bronze lamps, the whatnot containing a number of curiosities, ballads embellished with vignettes on the piano, and small water-colours in huge frames had always excited astonishment in Chavignolles. But this evening all eyes were directed towards the mahogany table. They would test it by and by, and it had the importance of things which contain a mystery. A dozen guests took their places around it with outstretched hands and their little fingers touching one another. Only the ticking of the clock could be heard. The faces indicated profound attention. At the end of ten minutes several complained of tinglings in the arms.
Pdcuchet was incommoded.
" You are pushing! " said the captain to Foureau.
"Not at all."
" Yes, you are ! "
"Ah! sir."
The notary made them keep quiet.
By dint of straining their ears they thought they could distinguish cracklings of wood.
An illusion! Nothing had budged.﻿284
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The other day when the Aubert and Lorraine families had come from Lisieux and they had expressly borrowed Beljambe's table for the occasion, everything had gone on so well. But this to-day exhibited a certain obstinacy. Why ?
The carpet undoubtedly counteracted it, and they changed to the dining-room.
The round table, which was on rollers, glided towards the right-hand side. The operators, without displacing their fingers, followed its movements, and of its own accord it made two turns. They were astounded.
Then M. Alfred articulated in a loud voice :
" Spirit, how do you find my cousin ? "
The table, slowly oscillating, struck nine raps. According to a slip of paper, in which the number of raps were translated by letters, this meant " Charming."
A number of voices exclaimed " Bravo ! "
Then Marescot, to tease Madame Bordin, called on the spirit to declare her exact age.
The foot of the table came down with five taps.
" What ? five years ! " cried Girbal.
" The tens don't count," replied Foureau.
The widow smiled, though she was inwardly annoyed.
The replies to the other questions were missing, so complicated was the alphabet.
Much better was the plane table—an expeditious medium, of which Mademoiselle Laverriere had﻿PECUCHET
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made use for the purpose of noting down in an album the direct communications of Louis XII., Clemence Isaure, Franklin, Jean Jacques Rousseau; and others. These mechanical contrivances are sold in the Rue d'Aumale. M. Alfred promised one of them ; then, addressing the schoolmistress: " But for a quarter of an hour we should have a little music; don't you think so ? A mazurka ! "
Two metal chords vibrated. He took his cousin by the waist, disappeared with her, and came back again.
The sweep of her dress, which just brushed the doors as they passed, cooled their faces. She flung back her head; he curved his arms. The gracefulness of the one, the playful air of the other, excited general admiration; and, without waiting for the rout cakes, Pecuchet took himself off, amazed at the evening's exhibition.
In vain did he repeat: " But I have seen it! I have seen it! "
Bouvard denied the facts, but nevertheless consented to make an experiment himself.
For a fortnight they spent each afternoon facing one another, with their hands over a table, then over a hat, over a basket, and over plates. All these remained motionless.
The phenomenon of table-turning is none the less certain. The common herd attribute it to spirits; Faraday to prolonged nervous action; Chev-reuil to unconscious efforts; or perhaps, as Segouin﻿286
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admits, there is evolved from the assembly of persons an impulse, a magnetic current.
This hypothesis made Pecuchet reflect. He took into his library the " Magnetiser's Guide," by Montacabere, read it over attentively, and initiated Bouvard in the theory: All animated bodies receive and communicate the influence of the stars—a property analogous to the virtue of the loadstone. By directing this force we may cure the sick; there is the principle. Science has developed since Mesmer; but it is always an important thing to pour out the fluid and to make passes, which, in the first place, must have the effect of inducing sleep.
"Well! send me to sleep," said Bouvard.
" Impossible ! " replied Pecuchet : " in order to be subject to the magnetic action, and to transmit it, faith is indispensable."
Then, gazing at Bouvard: " Ah! what a pity ! "
" How ? "
" Yes, if you wished, with a little practice, there would not be a magnetiser anywhere like you."
For he possessed everything that was needed: easiness of access, a robust constitution, and a solid mind.
The discovery just made of such a faculty in himself was flattering to Bouvard. He took a plunge into Montacabere's book on the sly.
Then, as Germaine used to feel buzzings in her ears which deafened her, he said to her one evening in a careless tone :﻿PECUCHET
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" Suppose we tried magnetism ? " She did not make any objection to it. He sat down in front of her, took her two thumbs in his hands, and looked fixedly at her, as if he had not done anything else all his life.
The old dame, with her feet on a footwarmer, commenced by bending her neck; her eyes closed, and quite gently she began to snore. At the end of an hour, during which they had been staring at her, Pecuchet said in a low tone: " What do you feel ? " She woke up.
Later on, no doubt, would come lucidity. This success emboldened them, and, resuming with self-confidence the practice of medicine, they nursed Chamberlan, the beadle, for pains in his ribs ; Migraine the mason, who had a nervous affection of the stomach; Mere Varin, whose encephaloid under the collar-bone required, in order to nourish her, plasters of meat; a gouty patient, Pere Lemoine, who used to crawl by the side of taverns ; a consumptive; a person afflicted with hemiplegia, and many others. They also treated corns and chilblains.
After an investigation into the disease they cast questioning glances at one another to determine what passes to use, whether the currents ought to be large or small, ascending or descending, longitudinal, transversal, bidigital, tridigital, or even quindigital.
When the one had too much of it, the other﻿288
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replaced him. Then, when they had come back to their own house, they noted down their observation in their diary of treatment.
Their suave manners captivated everyone. However, Bouvard was liked better, and his reputation spread as far as Falaise, when he had cured La Barbee, the daughter of Pere Barbee, a retired captain of long standing.
She had felt, as it were, a nail in the back of her head, spoke in a hoarse voice, often remained several days without eating, and then would devour plaster or coal. Her nervous crises, beginning with sobs, ended in floods of tears; and every kind of remedy, from diet - drinks to moxas, had been employed, so that, through sheer weariness, she accepted Bouvard's offer to cure her.
When he had dismissed the servant-girl and bolted the door, he began rubbing her abdomen, while leaning over the seat of the ovaries. A sense of relief manifested itself by sighs and yawns. He placed his finger between her eyebrows and the top of her nose : all at once she became inert. If one lifted her arms, they fell down again. Her head maintained whatever attitude he wished, and her lids, half closed, vibrating with a spasmodic movement, allowed her eyeballs to be seen rolling slowly about ; they riveted themselves on the corners convulsively.
Bouvard asked her if she were in pain. She replied that she was not. Then he inquired what﻿PECUCHET
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she felt now. She indicated the inside of her body.
" What do you see there ? " " A worm."
" What is necessary in order to kill it ? " She wrinkled her brow. " I am looking for— I am not able ! I am not able ! "
At the second sitting she prescribed for herself nettle-broth; at the third, cat's mint. The crises became mitigated, then disappeared. It was truly a miracle. The nasal addigitation did not succeed with the others, and, in order to bring on somnambulism, they projected the construction of a mesmeric tub. Pecuchet had already even collected the filings and cleaned a score of bottles, when a scruple made him hesitate.
Amongst the patients there would be persons of the other sex.
" And what are we to do if this should give rise to an outburst of erotic mania ? "
This would not have proved any impediment to Bouvard ; but for fear of impostures and attempts to extort hush-money, it was better to put aside the project. They contented themselves with a collection of musical glasses, which they carried about with them to the different houses, so as to delight the children.
One day, when Migraine was worse, they had recourse to the musical glasses. The crystalline sounds exasperated him ; but Deleuze enjoins that
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one should not be frightened by complaints; and so they went on with the music.
" Enough ! enough ! " he cried.
" A little patience ! " Bouvard kept repeating.
Pecuchet tapped more quickly on the glass plates, and the instrument was vibrating in the midst of the poor man's cries when the doctor appeared, attracted by the hubbub.
" What! you again ? " he exclaimed, enraged at finding them always with his patients.
They explained their magnetic method of curing. Then he declaimed against magnetism—" a heap of juggleries, whose effects only came from the imagination."
However, animals are magnetised. Montacabere so states, and M. Fontaine succeeded in magnetising a lion. They had not a lion, but chance had offered them another animal.
For on the following day a ploughboy came to inform them that they were wanted up at the farm for a cow in a hopeless condition.
They hurried thither. The apple trees were in bloom, and the herbage in the farmyard was steaming under the rays of the rising sun.
At the side of a pond, half covered with a cloth, a cow was lowing, while she shivered under the pails of water that were being emptied over her body, and, enormously swollen, she looked like a hippopotamus.
Without doubt she had got "venom" while grazing amid the clover. Pere Gouy and his wife﻿PECUCHET	291
were afflicted because the veterinary surgeon was not able to come, and the wheelwright who had a charm against swelling did not want to put himself out of his way; but " these gentlemen, whose library was famous, ought to know the secret."
Having tucked up their sleeves, they placed themselves one in front of the horns, the other at the rump, and, with great internal efforts and frantic gesticulations, they spread wide their fingers in order to scatter streams of fluid over the animal, while the farmer, his wife, their son, and the neighbours regarded them almost with terror.
The rumblings which were heard in the cow's belly caused borborygms in the interior of her bowels. She emitted wind.
Pecuchet thereupon said: " This is an opening door for hope—an outlet, perhaps."
The outlet produced its effect: the hope gushed forth in a bundle of yellow stuff, bursting with the force of a shell. The hide got loose; the cow got rid of her swelling. An hour later there was no longer any sign of it.
It was certainly not the result of imagination. Therefore the fluid contained some special virtue. It lets itself be shut up in the objects to whom it is given without being impaired. Such an expedient saves displacements. They adopted it; and they sent their clients magnetised tokens, magnetised handkerchiefs, magnetised water, and magnetised bread.
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Then, continuing their studies, they abandoned the passes for the system of Puys6gur, which replaces the magnetiser by means of an old tree, about the trunk of which a cord is rolled.
A pear tree in their fruit garden seemed made expressly for the purpose. They prepared it by vigorously encircling it with many pressures. A bench was placed underneath. Their clients sat in a row, and the results obtained there were so marvellous that, in order to get the better of Vaucorbeil, they invited him to a "seance" along with the leading personages of the locality.
Not one failed to attend. Germaine received them in the breakfast-room, " making excuses" on behalf of her masters, who would join them presently.
From time to time they heard the bell ringing. It was the patients whom she was bringing in by another way. The guests nudged one another, drawing attention to the windows covered with dust, the stains on the panels, the frayed pictures; and the garden, too, was in a wretched state. Dead wood everywhere! The orchard was barricaded with two sticks thrust into a gap in the wall.
Pecuchet made his appearance. "At your service, gentlemen."
And they saw at the end of the garden, under the Edoui'n pear tree, a number of persons seated.
Chamberlan, clean-shaven like a priest, in a short cassock of lasting with a leathern cap, gave himself up to the shivering sensations engendered by the﻿PECUCHET
pains in his ribs. Migraine, whose stomach was always tormenting him, made wry faces close beside him. Mere Varin, to hide her tumour, wore a shawl with many folds. Pere Lemoine, his feet stockingless in his old shoes, had his crutches under his knees; and La Barbee, who wore her Sunday clothes, looked exceedingly pale.
At the opposite side of the tree there were other persons. A woman with an albino type of countenance was sponging the suppurating glands of her neck ; a little girl's face half disappeared under her blue glasses; an old man, whose spine was deformed by a contraction, with his involuntary movements knocked against Marcel, a sort of idiot clad in a tattered blouse and a patched pair of pantaloons. His hare-lip, badly stitched, allowed his incisors to be seen, and his jaw, which was swollen by an enormous inflammation, was muffled up in linen.
They were all holding in their hands pieces of twine that hung down from the tree. The birds were singing, and the air was impregnated with the refreshing smell of grass. The sun played with the branches, and the ground was smooth as moss.
Meanwhile, instead of going to sleep, the subjects of the experiment were straining their eyes.
" Up to the present," said Foureau, "it is not funny. Begin. I am going away for a minute."
And he came back smoking an Abd-el-Kader, the last that was left from the gate with the pipes.﻿BOUVARD AND
Pecuchet recalled to mind an iadmirable method of magnetisation. He put into his mouth all the noses of the patients in succession, and inhaled their breath, in order to attract the electricity to himself; and at the same time Bouvard clasped the tree, with the object of augmenting the fluid.
The mason interrupted his hiccoughs; the beadle was agitated; the man with the contraction did not budge any longer. It was possible now to approach them, and make them submit to all the tests.
The doctor, with his lancet, pricked Chamberlan's ear, which trembled a little. Sensibility in the case of the others was manifest. The gouty man uttered a cry. As for La Barbee, she smiled as if in a dream, and a stream of blood trickled under her jaw.
Foureau, in order to try the experiment himself, would fain have seized the lancet, but the doctor having refused, he vigorously pinched the invalid.
The captain tickled her nostrils with a feather; the tax-collector plunged a pin under her skin.
"Let her alone now," said Vaucorbeil; "it is nothing astonishing, after all. Simply a hysterical female ! The devil will have his pains for nothing."
" That one there," said Pecuchet, pointing towards Victoire, the scrofulous woman, "is a physician. She recognises diseases, and indicates the remedies."
Langlois burned to consult her about his catarrh; but Coulon, more courageous, asked her for something for his rheumatism.﻿PECUCHET
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Pecuchet placed his right hand in Victoire's left, and, with her lids closed uninterruptedly, her cheeks a little red, her lips quivering, the somnambulist, after some rambling utterances, ordered " valum becum."
She had assisted in an apothecary's shop at Bayeux. Vaucorbeil drew the inference that what she wanted to say was " album Graecum," a term which is to be found in pharmacy.
Then they accosted Pere Lemoine, who, according to Bouvard, could see objects through opaque bodies. He was an ex-schoolmaster, who had sunk into debauchery. White hairs were scattered about his face, and, with his back against the tree and his palms open, he was sleeping in the broad sunlight in a majestic fashion.
The physician drew over his eyes a double neckcloth ; and Bouvard, extending a newspaper towards him, said imperiously :
" Read ! "
He lowered his brow, moved the muscles of his face, then threw back his head, and ended by spelling out:
" Cons-ti-tu-tion-nel."
But with skill the head-bands could be slipped off!
These denials by the physician roused Pecuchet's indignation. He even ventured to pretend that La Barbee could describe what was actually taking place in his own house.
" May be so," returned the doctor.﻿296
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Then, taking out his watch : " What is my wife occupying herself with ? " For a long time La Barbee hesitated; then with a sullen air:
" Hey ! what ? I am there ! She is sewing ribbons on a straw hat."
Vaucorbeil snatched a leaf from his note-book and wrote a few lines on it, which Marescot's clerk hastened to deliver.
The " seance" was over. The patients went away.
Bouvard and Pecuchet, on the whole, had not succeeded. Was this due to the temperature, or to the smell of tobacco, or to the Abbe Jeufroy's umbrella, which had a lining of copper, a metal unfavourable to the emission of the fluid ?
Vaucorbeil shrugged his shoulders. However, he could not deny the honesty of MM. Deleuze, Bertrand, Morin, Jules Cloquet. Now these masters lay down that somnambulists have predicted events, and submitted without pain to cruel operations.
The abbe related stories more astonishing. A missionary had seen Brahmins rushing, heads down, through a street; the Grand Lama of Thibet rips open his bowels in order to deliver oracles. " Are you joking? " said the physician. " By no means."
" Come, now, what tomfoolery that is ! " And the question being dropped, each of them furnished an anecdote.﻿PECUCHET
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" As for me," said the grocer, " I had a dog who was always sick when the month began on a Friday."
" We were fourteen children," observed the justice of the peace. " I was born on the 14th, my marriage took place on the 14th, and my saint's-day falls on the 14th. Explain this to me."
Beljambe had often reckoned in a dream the number of travellers he would have next day at his inn ; and Petit told about the supper of Cazotte.
The cure then made this reflection :
" Why do we not see into it quite easily ? "
" The demons—is that what you say ? " asked Vaucorbeil.
Instead of again opening his lips, the abbe nodded his head.
Marescot spoke of the Pythia of Delphi.
" Beyond all question, miasmas."
" Oh ! miasmas now ! "
" As for me, I admit the existence of a fluid," remarked Bouvard.
" Nervoso-siderial," added Pecuchet.
" But prove it, show it, this fluid of yours! Besides, fluids are out of fashion. Listen to me."
Vaucorbeil moved further up to get into the shade. The others followed him.
"If you say to a child, 'I am a wolf; I am going to eat you,' he imagines that you are a wolf, and he is frightened. Therefore this is a vision conjured up by words. In the same way the﻿2g8
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somnambulist accepts any fancies that you want him to accept. He recollects instead of imagining, and has merely sensations when he believes that he is thinking. In this manner it is possible for crimes to be suggested, and virtuous people may see themselves ferocious beasts, and involuntarily become cannibals."
Glances were cast towards Bouvard and Pecuchet. Their scientific pursuits were fraught with dangers to society.
Marescot's clerk reappeared in the garden flourishing a letter from Madame Vaucorbeil.
The doctor tore it open, turned pale, and finally read these words:
" I am sewing ribbons on a straw hat."
Stupefaction prevented them from bursting into a laugh.
"A mere coincidence, deuce take it! It proves nothing."
And as the two magnetisers wore looks of triumph, he turned round at the door to say to them :
"Don't go further. These are risky amusements."
The cure, while leading away his beadle, reproved them sternly:
" Are you mad ? Without my permission ! Practices forbidden by the Church ! "
They had all just taken their leave ; Bouvard and Pecuchet were talking to the schoolmaster on the hillock, when Marcel rushed from out of the﻿PECUCHET
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orchard, the bandage of his chin undone, and he stuttered:
" Cured ! cured ! good gentlemen."
" All right! enough ! Let us alone."
Petit, a man of advanced ideas, thought the doctor's explanation commonplace and unenlightened. Science is a monopoly in the hands of the rich. She excludes the people. To the old - fashioned analysis of the Middle Ages it is time that there should succeed a large and ready-witted synthesis. Truth should be arrived at through the heart. And, declaring himself a spiritualist, he pointed out several works, no doubt, imperfect, but which were the heralds of a new dawn.
They sent for them.
Spiritualism lays down as a dogma the fated amelioration of our species. Earth will one day become Heaven. And this is why the doctrine fascinated the schoolmaster. Without being Catholic, it was known to St. Augustine and St. Louis. Allan Kardec even has published some fragments dictated by them which are in accordance with contemporary opinions. It is practical as well as benevolent, and reveals to us, like the telescope, the supernal worlds.
Spirits, after death and in a state of ecstasy, are transported thither. But sometimes they descend upon our globe, where they make furniture creak, mingle in our amusements, taste the beauties of Nature, and the pleasures of the arts.﻿3°°
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Nevertheless, there are amongst us many who possess an aromal trunk—that is to say, behind the ear a long tube which ascends from the hair to the planets, and permits us to converse with the spirits of Saturn. Intangible things are not less real, and from the earth to the stars, from the stars to the earth a see-saw motion takes place, a transmission, a continual change of place.
Then Pecuchet's heart swelled with extravagant aspirations, and when night had come Bouvard surprised him at the window contemplating those luminous spaces which are peopled with spirits.
Swedenborg made rapid journeys to them. For in less than a year he explored Venus, Mars, Saturn, and, twenty-three times, Jupiter. Moreover, he saw in London Jesus Christ; he saw St. Paul; he saw St. John; he saw Moses; and in 1736 he saw the Last Judgment.
He has also given us descriptions of Heaven.
Flowers, palaces, market-places, and churches are found there, just as with us. The angels, who were formerly human beings, lay their thoughts upon leaves, chat about domestic affairs or else on spiritual matters; and the ecclesiastical posts are assigned to those who, in their earthly career, cultivated the Holy Scripture.
As for Hell, it is filled with a nauseous smell, with hovels, heaps of filth, quagmires, and ill-clad persons.
And Pecuchet racked his brain in order to com-﻿PECUCHET
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prehend what was beautiful in these revelations. To Bouvard they seemed the delirium of an imbecile. All such matters transcend the bounds of Nature. Who, however, can know anything about them ? And they surrendered themselves to the following reflections :
Jugglers can cause illusions amongst a crowd; a man with violent passions can excite other people by them ; but how can the will alone act upon inert matter ? A Bavarian, it is said, was able to ripen grapes ; M. Gervais revived a heliotrope ; one with greater power scattered the clouds at Toulouse.
Is it necessary to admit an intermediary substance between the universe and ourselves ? The od, a new imponderable, a sort of electricity, is nothing else perhaps. Its emissions explain the light that those who have been magnetised believe they see: the wandering flames in cemeteries, the forms of phantoms.
These images would not, therefore, be illusions, and the extraordinary gifts of persons who are possessed, like those of somnambulists, would have a physical cause.
Whatever be their origin, there is an essence, a secret and universal agent. If we could take possession of it, there would be no need of force, of duration. That which requires ages would develop in a minute ; every miracle would be practicable, and the universe would be at our disposal.
Magic springs from this eternal yearning of the﻿302
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human mind. Its value has no doubt been exaggerated, but it is not a falsehood. Some Orientals who are skilled in it perform prodigies. All travellers have vouched for its existence, and at the Palais Royal M. Dupotet moves with his finger the magnetic needle.
How to become a magician ? This idea appeared to them foolish at first, but it returned, tormented them, and they yielded to it, even while affecting to laugh.
A course of preparation is indispensable.
In order to excite themselves the better, they kept awake at night, fasted, and, wishing to convert Ger-maine into a more delicate medium, they limited her diet. She indemnified herself by drinking, and consumed so much brandy that she speedily ended by getting intoxicated. Their promenades in the corridor awakened her. She confused the noise of their footsteps with the hummings in her ears and the voices which she imagined that she heard coming from the walls. One day, when she had put a plaice into the pantry, she was frightened on seeing it covered with flame, became after that worse than ever, and ended by believing that they had cast a spell over her.
Hoping to obtain visions, they mutually pressed the napes of each other's necks ; they made themselves little bags of belladonna; finally they adopted the magic box, out of which rises up a mushroom bristling with nails, and it is worn over the heart by﻿PECUCHET	303
means of a ribbon attached to the breast. Everything proved unsuccessful. But they might make use of the sphere of Dupotet!
Pecuchet, with a piece of charcoal, traced on the ground a black shield, in order to enclose within its compass the animal spirits whose duty it is to assist the ambient spirits, and rejoicing at having the mastery over Bouvard, he said to him, with a pontifical air :
" I defy you to cross it! "
Bouvard viewed this circular space. Soon his heart began throbbing, his eyes became clouded.
" Ha ! let us make an end of it ! " And he jumped over it, to get rid of an inexpressible sense of unpleasantness.
Pecuchet, whose exultation was increasing, wanted to make a corpse appear.
Under the Directory a man in the Rue de l'Echiquier exhibited the victims of the Terror. There are innumerable examples of persons coming back from the other world. Though it may be a mere appearance, what matter! The thing was to produce it.
The nearer to us we feel the phantom, the more promptly it responds to our appeal. But he had no relic of his family—ring, miniature, or lock of hair—while Bouvard was in a position to conjure up his father; and, as he testified a certain repugnance on the subject, Pecuchet asked him:
" What are you afraid of ? "﻿304
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" I ? Oh ! nothing at all! Do what you like."
They kept Chamberlan in their pay, and he supplied them by stealth with an old death's-head. A seamster cut out for them two long black robes with hoods attached, like monks' habits. The Falaise coach brought them a large parcel in a wrapper. Then they set about the work, the one interested in executing it, the other afraid to believe in it.
The museum was spread out like a catafalque. Three wax tapers burned at the side of the table pushed against the wall beneath the portrait of Pere Bouvard, above which rose the death's-head. They had even stuffed a candle into the interior of the skull, and rays of light shot out through the two eyeholes.
In the centre, on a chafing-dish, incense was smoking. Bouvard kept in the background, and Pecuchet, turning his back to him, cast handfuls of sulphur into the fireplace.
Before invoking a corpse the consent of the demons is required. Now, this day being a Friday —a day which is assigned to Bechet—they should occupy themselves with Bechet first of all.
Bouvard, having bowed to the right and to the left, bent his chin, and raised his arms, began :
"In the names of Ethaniel, Anazin, Ischyros-"
He forgot the rest.
Pecuchet rapidly breathed forth the words, which had been jotted down on a piece of pasteboard :﻿PECUCHET
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" Ischyros, Athanatos, Adona'f, Sada'i, Eloy, Mes-siasos " (the litany was a long one), " I implore thee, I look to thee, I command thee, O Bechet! "
Then, lowering his voice :
" Where art thou, Bechet ? Bechet! Bechet! Bechet! "
Bouvard sank into the armchair, and he was very pleased at not seeing Bechet, a certain instinct reproaching him with making an experiment which was a kind of sacrilege.
Where was his father's soul ? Could it hear him ? What if, all at once, it were going to appear ?
The curtains slowly moved under the wind, which made its way in through a cracked pane of glass, and the wax-tapers caused shadows to oscillate above the corpse's skull and also above the painted face. An earthy colour made them equally brown. The cheekbones were consumed by mouldiness, the eyes no longer possessed any lustre; but a flame shone above them in the eyeholes of the empty skull. It seemed sometimes to take the other's place, to rest on the collar of the frock-coat, to have the whiskers on it; and the canvas, half unfastened, swayed and palpitated.
Little by little they felt, as it were, the sensation of being touched by a breath, the approach of an impalpable being. Drops of sweat moistened Pecuchet's forehead, and Bouvard began to gnash his teeth: a cramp gripped his epigastrium; the floor, like a wave, seemed to flow under his heels;
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the sulphur burning in the chimney fell down in spirals. At the same moment bats flitted about. A cry arose. Who was it ?
And their faces under their hoods presented such a distorted aspect that, gazing at each other, they were becoming more frightened than before, not venturing either to move or to speak, when behind the door they heard groans like those' of a soul in torture.
At length they ran the risk. It was their old housekeeper, who, espying them through a slit in the partition, imagined she saw the devil, and, falling on her knees in the corridor, kept repeatedly making the sign of the Cross.
All reasoning was futile. She left them the same evening, having no desire to be employed by people like them.
Germaine babbled. Chamberlan lost his place, and he formed against them a secret coalition, supported by the Abbe Jeufroy, Madame Bordin, and Foureau.
Their way of living, so unlike that of other people, gave offence. They became objects of suspicion, and even inspired a vague terror.
What destroyed them above all in public opinion was their choice of a servant. For want of another, they had taken Marcel.
His hare-lip, his hideousness, and the gibberish he talked made people avoid him. A deserted child, he had grown up, the sport of chance, in the fields,﻿PECUCHET
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and from his long-continued privations he became possessed by an insatiable appetite. Animals who had died of disease, putrid bacon, a crushed dog— everything agreed with him as long as the piece was thick; and he was as gentle as a sheep, but utterly stupid.
Gratitude had driven him to offer himself as a servant to MM. Bouvard and Pecuchet; and then, believing that they were wizards, he hoped for extraordinary gains.
Soon after the first days of his employment with them he confided to them a secret. On the heath of Poligny a man had formerly found an ingot of gold. The anecdote is related by the historians of Falaise; they were ignorant of its sequel: Twelve brothers, before setting out on a voyage, had concealed twelve similar ingots along the road from Chavignolles to Bretteville, and Marcel begged of his masters to begin a search for them over again. These ingots, said they to each other, had perhaps been buried just before emigration.
This was a case for the use of the divining rod. Its virtues are doubtful. They studied the question, however, and learned that a certain Pierre Gamier gives scientific reasons to vindicate its claims: springs and metals throw out corpuscles which have an affinity with the wood.
" This is scarcely probable. Who knows, however ? Let us make the attempt."
They cut themselves a forked branch from a
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hazel tree, and one morning set forth to discover the treasure.
" It must be given up," said Bouvard. " Oh, no ! bless your soul! " After they had been three hours travelling, a thought made them draw up: " The road from Chavignolles to Bretteville !—was it the old or new road ? It must be the old ! "
They went back, and rushed through the neighbourhood at random, the direction of the old road not being easy to find out.
Marcel went jumping from right to left, like a spaniel running at field-sports. Bouvard was compelled to call him back every five minutes. Pecuchet advanced step by step, holding the rod by the two branches, with the point upwards. Often it seemed to him that a force and, as it were, a cramp-iron drew towards the ground; and Marcel very rapidly made a! notch in the neighbouring trees, in order to find the place later on.
Pecuchet, however, slackened his pace. His mouth was open; the pupils of his eyes were contracted. Bouvard questioned him, caught hold of his shoulders, and shook him. He did not stir, and remained inert, exactly like La Barbee. Then he said he felt round his heart a kind of laceration, a singular experience, arising from the rod, no doubt, and he no longer wished to touch it.
They returned next day to the place where the marks had been made on the trees. Marcel with a﻿PECUCHET
spade dug holes; nothing, however, came of it, and each time they felt exceedingly sheepish. Pecuchet sat down at the side of a ditch, and while he mused, with his head raised, striving to hear the voices of the spirits through his aromal trunk, asking himself whether he even had one, he fixed his eyes on the peak of his cap; the ecstasy of the previous day once more took possession of him. It lasted a long time, and became dreadful.
Above some oats in a by-path appeared a felt hat: it was M. Vaucorbeil trotting on his mare.
Bouvard and Marcel called out to him.
The crisis was drawing to an end when the physician arrived. In order to examine Pecuchet he lifted his cap, and perceiving a forehead covered with coppery marks :
" Ha ! ha ! Fructus belli! Those are love-spots, my fine fellow! Take care of yourself. The deuce ! let us not trifle with love."
Pecuchet, ashamed, again put on his cap, a sort of head-piece that swelled over a peak shaped like a half-moon, the model of which he had taken from the Atlas of Amoros.
The doctor's words astounded him. He kept thinking of them with his eyes staring before him, and suddenly got another seizure.
Vaucorbeil watched him, then, with a fillip, knocked off his cap.
Pecuchet recovered his faculties.﻿BOUVARD AND
" I suspected as much," said the physician ; " the glazed peak hypnotises you like a mirror ; and this phenomenon is not rare with persons who look at a shining substance too attentively."
He pointed out how the experiment might be tried on hens, then mounted his nag, and gradually disappeared from their view.
Half a league further on they noticed, in a farmyard, a pyramidal object stretched out towards the horizon. It might have been compared to an enormous bunch of black grapes marked here and there with red dots. It was, in fact, a long pole, garnished, according to the Norman custom, with cross-bars, on which were perched turkeys bridling up in the sunshine.
" Let us go in." And Pecuchet accosted the farmer, who yielded to their request.
They traced a line with whiting in the middle of the press, tied down the claws of a turkey-cock, then stretched him flat on his belly, with his beak placed on the line. The fowl shut his eyes, and soon presented the appearance of being dead. The same process was gone through with the others. Bouvard passed them quickly across to Pecuchet, who ranged then on the side on which they had become torpid.
The people about the farm-house exhibited uneasiness. The mistress screamed, and a little girl began to cry.
Bouvard loosened all the turkeys. They gradually revived ; but one could not tell what might be the consequences.﻿PECUCHET
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At a rather tart remark of Pecuchet, the farmer grasped his pitchfork tightly.
" Clear out, in God's name, or I'll smash your guts!"
They scampered off.
No matter! the problem was solved: ecstasy is dependent on material causes.
What then is matter ? What is spirit ? Whence comes the influence of the one on the other, and the reciprocal exchange of influence ?
In order to get information on the subject, they made researches in the works of Voltaire, Bossuet, Fenelon; and they renewed their subscription to a circulating library.
The ancient teachers were inaccessible owing to the length of their works, or the difficulty of the language; but Jouffroy and Damiron initiated them into modern philosophy, and they had authors who dealt with that of the last century.
Bouvard derived his arguments from Lamettrie, Locke, and Helvetius; Pecuchet from M. Cousin, Thomas Reid, and Gerando. The former adhered to experience; for the latter, the ideal was everything. The one belonged to the school of Aristotle, the other to that of Plato; and they proceeded to discuss the subject.
" The soul is immaterial," said Pecuchet.
" By no means," said his friend. " Lunacy, chloroform, a bleeding will overthrow it; and, inasmuch as it is not always thinking, it is not a substance which does nothing but think."﻿312
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" Nevertheless," rejoined Pecuchet, " I have in myself something superior to my body, and which sometimes confutes it."
" A being in a being—homo duplex I Look here now! Different tendencies disclose opposite motives. There's all! "
"But this something, this soul, remains identical amid all changes from without. Therefore, it is simple, indivisible, and thus spiritual."
" If the soul were simple," replied Bouvard, " the newly-born would recollect, would imagine, like the adult. Thought, on the contrary, follows the development of the brain. As to its being indivisible, the perfume of a rose or the appetite of a wolf, any more than a volition or an affirmation, is not cut in two."
" That makes no difference," said Pecuchet. "The soul is exempt from the qualities of matter."
" Do you admit weight ? " returned Bouvard. " Now if matter can fall, it can in the same way think. Having had a beginning, the soul must come to an end, and, as it is dependent on certain organs, it must disappear with them."
" For my part, I maintain that it is immortal.
God could not intend-"
" But if God does not exist ? " " What ? " And Pecuchet gave utterance to the three Cartesian proofs : " ' Prima: God is comprehended in the idea that we have of Him ; secundo : Existence is possible to Him ; tertio : How can I,﻿PECUCHET
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a finite being, have an idea of the Infinite ? And, since we have this idea, it comes to us from God ; therefore, God exists.' "
He passed on to the testimony of conscience, the traditions of different races, and the need of a Creator.
" When I see a clock-"
" Yes ! yes ! That's a well-known argument. But where is the clockmaker's father ? " " However, a cause is necessary." Bouvard was doubtful about causes. " From the fact that one phenomenon succeeds another phenomenon, the conclusion is drawn that it is caused by the first. Prove it."
" But the spectacle of the universe indicates an intention and a plan."
" Why ? Evil is as perfectly organised as good. The worm that works its way into a sheep's head and causes it to die, is as valuable from an anatomical point of view as the sheep itself. Abnormalities surpass the normal functions. The human body could be better constructed. Three-fourths of the globe are sterile. That lamp-post, the moon, does not always show itself! Do you think the ocean was destined for ships, and the wood of trees for fuel for our houses ? "
Pecuchet answered : " Yet the stomach is made to digest, the leg to walk, the eye to see, although there are dyspepsias, fractures, and cataracts. No arrangements without an end. The effects came on﻿3H
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at the exact time or at a later period. Everything depends on laws ; therefore, there are final causes."
Bouvard imagined that perhaps Spinosa would furnish him with some arguments, and he wrote to Dumouchel to get him Saisset's translation.
Dumouchel sent him a copy belonging to his friend Professor Varelot, exiled on the 2nd of December.
Ethics terrified them with its axioms, its corollaries. They read only the pages marked with pencil, and understood this :
" ' The Substance is that which is of itself, by itself, without cause, without origin. This substance is God. He is alone extension, and extension is without bounds.' "
" What can it be bound with ? " " 'But, though it be infinite, it is not the absolute infinite, for it only contains one kind of perfection, and the Absolute contains all.' "
They frequently stopped to think it out the better. Pecuchet took pinches of snuff, and Bouvard's face glowed with concentrated attention. " Does this amuse you ? " " Yes, undoubtedly. Go on for ever." " 'God displays Himself in an infinite number of attributes which express each in its own way the infinite character of His being. We only know two of them—extension and thought.
" ' From thought and extension flow innumerable modes, which contain others. He who would at﻿PECUCHET
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the same time embrace all extension and all thought would see there no contingency, nothing accidental, but a geometrical succession of terms, bound amongst themselves by necessary laws.' "
" Ah! that would be beautiful! " exclaimed Bouvard.
" ' If God had a will, an end, if He acted for a cause, that would mean that He would have some want, that He would lack some one perfection. He would not be God.
" ' Thus our world is but one point in the whole of things, and the universe impenetrable by our knowledge, a portion of an infinite number of universes emitting close to ours infinite modifications. Extension envelops our universe, but is enveloped by God, who contains in His thought all possible universes, and His thought itself is enveloped in His substance.' "
It appeared to them that this substance was filled at night with an icy coldness, carried away in an endless course towards a bottomless abyss, and with nothing around them but the Unseizable, the Immovable, the Eternal.
This was too much for them, and they renounced it. And wishing for something less harsh, they bought the course of philosophy for the use of classes by M. Guesnier.
The author asks himself what would be the proper method, the ontological or the psychological.
The first suits the infancy of societies, when﻿316
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man directed his attention towards the external world. But at present, when he turns it in upon himself, "we believe the second to be more scientific."
The object of psychology is to study the acts which take place "in my own breast." We discover them by observation.
" Let us observe." And for a fortnight, after breakfast, they regularly searched their consciousness at random, hoping to make great discoveries there — and made none, which considerably astonished them.
" ' One phenomenon occupies the ego, viz., the idea. What is its nature ? It has been supposed that the objects are put into the brain, and that the brain transmits these images to our souls, which gives us the knowledge of them.' "
But if the idea is spiritual, how are we to represent matter ? Thence comes scepticism as to external perceptions. If it is material, spiritual objects could not be represented. Thence scepticism as to the reality of internal notions.
" For another reason let us here be careful. This hypothesis will lead us to atheism."
For an image, being a finite thing, it is impossible for it to represent the Infinite.
"Yet," argued Bouvard, "when I think of a forest, of a person, of a dog, I see this forest, this person, this dog. Therefore the ideas do represent them."
And they proceeded to deal with the origin of ideas.﻿PECUCHET
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According to Locke there are two originating causes—sensation and reflection ; and Condillac reduces everything to sensation.
But then reflection will lack a basis. It has need of a subject, of a sentient being; and it is powerless to furnish us with the great fundamental truths: God, merit and demerit, the Just, the Beautiful—ideas which are all innate, that is to say, anterior to facts, to experience, and universal.
" If they were universal we should have them from our birth."
" By this word is meant dispositions to have them ; and Descartes-"
" Your Descartes is muddled, for he maintains that the foetus possesses them, and he confesses in another place that this is in an implied fashion."
Pecuchet was astonished. " Where is this found ? "
" In Gerando." And Bouvard tapped him lightly on the stomach.
" Make an end of it, then," said Pecuchet.
Then, coming to Condillac :
" 1 Our thoughts are not metamorphoses of sensation. It causes them, puts them in play. In order to put them in play a motive power is necessary, for matter of itself cannot produce movement.' And I found that in your Voltaire," Pecuchet added, making a low bow to him.
Thus they repeated again and again the same arguments, each treating the other's opinion with﻿3i8
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contempt, without persuading his companion that his own was right.
But philosophy elevated them in their own estimation. They disdainfully recalled their agricultural and political preoccupations.
At present they were disgusted with the museum. They would have asked nothing better than to sell the articles of virtil contained in it. So they passed on to the second chapter: "Faculties of the Soul."
"'They are three in number, no more: that of feeling, that of knowing, and that of willing.
" ' In the faculty of feeling we should distinguish physical sensibility from moral sensibility. Physical sensations are naturally classified into five species, being transmitted through the medium of the senses. The facts of moral sensibility, on the contrary, owe nothing to the body. What is there in common between the pleasure of Archimedes in discovering the laws of weight and the filthy gratification of Apicius in devouring a wild-boar's head ?
" ' This moral sensibility has five geneva, and its second genus, moral desires, is divided into five species, and the phenomena of the fourth genus, affection, are subdivided into two other species, amongst which is the love of oneself—a legitimate propensity, no doubt, but one which, when it becomes exaggerated, takes the name of egoism.
" ' In the faculty of knowing we find rational perception, in which there are two principal movements and four degrees.﻿PECUCHET
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4'' Abstraction may present perils to whimsical minds.
" ' Memory brings us into contact with the past, as foresight does with the future.
"' Imagination is rather a special faculty, sui getter is.' "
So many intricacies in order to demonstrate platitudes, the pedantic tone of the author, and the monotony of his forms of expression—" We are prepared to acknowledge it," " Far from us be the thought," "Let us interrogate our consciousness "—the sempiternal eulogy on Dugald Stewart; in short, all this verbiage, disgusted them so much that, jumping over the faculty of willing, they went into logic.
It taught them the nature of analysis, synthesis, induction, deduction, and the principal causes of our errors.
Nearly all come from the misuse of words.
" The sun is going to bed," " The weather is becoming brown," "The winter is drawing near"— vicious modes of speech which would make us believe in personal entities, when it is only a question of very simple occurrences. " I remember such an object," "such an axiom," "such a truth"— illusion ! These are ideas and not at all things which remain in me; and the rigour of language requires, " I remember such an act of my mind by which I perceived that object," " whereby I have deduced that axiom," " whereby I have admitted this truth."﻿320
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As the term which describes an incident does not embrace it in all its aspects, they try to employ only abstract words, so that in place of saying, " Let us make a tour," " It is time to dine," " I have the colic," they give utterance to the following phrases : "A promenade would be salutary," "This is the hour for absorbing aliments," " I experience a necessity for disburdenment."
Once masters of logic, they passed in review the different criterions; first, that of common sense.
If the individual can know nothing, why should all individuals know more ? An error, were it a hundred thousand years old, does not by the mere fact of its being old constitute truth. The crowd invariably pursue the path of routine. It is, on the contrary, the few who are guided by progress.
Is it better to trust to the evidence of the senses ? They sometimes deceive, and never give information save as to externals. The innermost core escapes them.
Reason offers more safeguards, being immovable and impersonal; but in order that it may be manifested it is necessary that it should incarnate itself. Then, reason becomes my reason; a rule is of little value if it is false. Nothing can show such a rule to be right.
We are recommended to control it with the senses; but they may make the darkness thicker. From a confused sensation a defective law will be﻿PECUCHET
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inferred, which, later on, will obstruct the clear view of things.
There remains morality.
This is to make God descend to the level of the useful, as if our wants were the measure of the Absolute.
As for the evidence—denied by the one, affirmed by the other—it is its own criterion. M. Cousin has demonstrated it.
" I no longer see anything but revelation," said Bouvard. " But, to believe it, it is necessary to admit two preliminary cognitions — that of the body which has felt, and that of the intelligence which has perceived; to admit sensation and reason. Human testimonies! and consequently open to suspicion."
Pecuchet reflected—folded his arms. " But we are about to fall into the frightful abyss of scepticism."
In Bouvard's opinion it only frightened weak brains.
" Thank you for the compliment," returned Pecuchet. " However, there are indisputable facts. We can arrive at truth within a certain limit."
"Which? Do two and two always make four? Is that which is contained in some degree less than that which contains it ? What is the meaning of a nearly true, a fraction of God, the part of an indivisible thing ? "
"Oh, you are a mere sophist!" And Pecuchet, annoyed, remained for three days in a sulk.
21﻿322
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They employed themselves in running through the contents of several volumes. Bouvard smiled from time to time, and renewing the conversation :
" The fact is, it is hard to avoid doubt; thus, for the existence of God, Descartes', Kant's, and Leibnitz's proofs are not the same, and mutually destroy each other. The creation of the world by atoms, or by a spirit, remains inconceivable. I feel myself, at the same time, matter and thought, while all the time I am ignorant of what one or the other really is. Impenetrability, solidity, weight, seem to me to be mysteries just as much as my soul, and, with much stronger reason, the union of the soul and the body. In order to explain it, Leibnitz invented his harmony, Malebranche pre-motion, Cudworth a mediator, and Bossuet sees in it a perpetual miracle."
" Exactly," said Pecuchet. And they both confessed that they were tired of philosophy. Such a number of systems confused you. Metaphysics is of no use: one can live without it. Besides, their pecuniary embarrassments were increasing. They owed one bill to Beljambe for three hogsheads of wine, another to Langlois for two stone of sugar, a sum of one hundred francs to the tailor, and sixty to the shoemaker.
The expenditure had to go on incessantly, and Maitre Gouy did not pay up.
They went to Marescot to ask him to raise﻿PECUCHET
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money for them, either by the sale of the Ecalles meadow, or by a mortgage on their farm, or by giving up their house on the condition of getting a life annuity and keeping the usufruct.
In Marescot's opinion this would be an impracticable course; but a better means might be devised, and they would be informed about it.
After this they thought of their poor garden. Bouvard undertook the pruning of the row of elms and Pecuchet the trimming of the espalier. Marcel would have to dig the borders.
At the end of a quarter of an hour they stopped. The one closed his pruning-knife, the other laid down his scissors, and they began to walk up and down quietly, Bouvard in the shade of the linden trees, with his waistcoat off, his chest held out and his arms bare; Pecuchet close to the wall, with his head hanging down, his arms behind his back, the peak of his cap turned over his neck for precaution; and thus they proceeded in parallel lines without even seeing Marcel, who was resting at the side of the hut eating a scrap of bread.
In this reflective mood thoughts rose up in their breasts. They grasped at them, fearing to lose them; and metaphysics came back again—came back with respect to the rain and the sun, the gravel in their shoes, the flowers on the grass—with respect to everything. When they looked at the candle burning, they asked themselves whether the light is in the object or in our eyes. Since stars may have disappeared﻿BOUVARD AND
when their radiance reaches us, we admire perhaps things that have no existence.
Having found a Raspail cigarette again in the depths of a waistcoat, they crumbled it over some water, and the camphor moved about. Here, then, is movement in matter. One degree more of movement might bring on life !
But if matter in movement were sufficient to create beings, they would not be so varied. For in the beginning lands, water, men, and plants had no existence. What, then, is this primordial matter which we have never seen, which is no portion of created things, and which yet has produced them all?
Sometimes they wanted a book. Dumouchel, tired of assisting them, no longer answered their letters. They enthusiastically took up the question, especially Pecuchet. His need of truth becime a burning thirst.
Moved by Bouvard's preachings, he gave up spiritualism, and soon resumed it again to abandon it once more, and, clasping his head with his hands, he would exclaim :
" Oh, doubt ! doubt ! I would much prefer nothingness."
Bouvard perceived the insufficiency of materialism, and tried to stop at that, declaring, however, that he had lost his head over it.
They commenced with arguments on a solid basis, but the basis gave way; and suddenly they had no﻿PECUCHET
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longer a single idea—just as a bird takes wing the moment we want to catch it.
During the winter evenings they chatted in the museum at the corner of the fire, staring at the coals. The wind, whistling in the corridor, shook the window-panes; the black masses of trees swayed to and fro, and the dreariness of the night intensified the seriousness of their thoughts.
Bouvard from time to time walked towards the further end of the apartment and then came back. The torches and the pans on the walls threw slanting shadows on the ground ; and the St. Peter, seen in profile, showed on the ceiling the silhouette of his nose, resembling a monstrous hunting-horn.
They found it hard to move about amongst the various articles, and Bouvard, by not taking precautions, often knocked against the statue. With its big eyes, its drooping lip, and its air of a drunkard, it also annoyed Pecuchet. For a long time he had wished to get rid of it, but through carelessness put it off from day to day.
One evening, in the middle of a dispute on the monad, Bouvard hit his big toe against St. Peter's thumb, and turning on him in a rage :
" He plagues me, this jackanapes ! Let us toss him out! "
It was difficult to do this over the staircase. They flung open the window, and gently dipped St. Peter over the edge. Pecuchet, on his knees, tried﻿326
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to raise his heels, while Bouvard pressed against his shoulders. The old codger in stone did not budge. After this they had recourse to the halberd as a lever, and finally succeeded in stretching him out quite straight. Then, after a see-saw motion, he dashed into the open space, his tiara going before him. A heavy crash reached their ears, and next day they found him broken up into a dozen pieces in the old pit for composts. * An hour afterwards the notary came in, bringing good news to them. A lady in the neighbourhood was willing to advance a thousand crown-pieces on the security of a mortgage of their farm, and, as they were expressing their satisfaction at the proposal :
" Pardon me. She adds, as a condition, that you should sell her the Ecalles meadow for fifteen hundred francs. The loan will be advanced this very day. The money is in my office."
They were both disposed to give away.
Bouvard ended by saying : " Good God ! be it so, then."
" Agreed," said Marescot. And then he mentioned the lender's name : it was Madame Bordin.
" I suspected 'twas she ! " exclaimed Pecuchet.
Bouvard, who felt humiliated, had not a word to say.
She or someone else—what did it matter ? The principal thing being to get out of their difficulties.
When they received the money (they were to﻿PECUCHET
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get the sum for the Ecalles later on) they immediately paid all their bills ; and they were returning to their abode when, at the corner of the marketplace, they were stopped by Farmer Gouy.
He had been on his way to their house to apprise them of a misfortune. The wind, the night before, had blown down twenty apple trees into the farmyard, overturned the boilery, and carried away the roof of the barn.
They spent the remainder of the afternoon in estimating the damage, and they continued the inquiry on the following day with the assistance of the carpenter, the mason, and the slater. The repairs would cost at least about eighteen hundred francs.
Then, in the evening, Gouy presented himself. Marianne herself had, a short time before, told him all about the sale of the Ecalles meadow—a piece of land with a splendid yield, suitable in every way, and scarcely requiring any cultivation at all, the best bit in the whole farm !—and he asked for a reduction.
The two gentlemen refused it. The matter was submitted to the justice of the peace, who decided in favour of the farmer. The loss of the Ecalles, which was valued at two thousand francs per acre, caused him an annual depreciation of seventy, and he was sure to win in the courts.
Their fortune was diminished. What were they to do ? And soon the question would be, How were they to live ?﻿328
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They both sat down to table full of discouragement. Marcel knew nothing about it in the kitchen. His dinner this time was better than theirs.
The soup was like dish-water, the rabbit had a bad smell, the kidney-beans were underdone, the plates were dirty, and at dessert Bouvard burst into a passion and threatened to break everything on his head.
" Let us be philosophers," said Pecuchet. " A little less money, the intrigues of a woman, the clumsiness of a servant—what is it but this ? You are too much immersed in matter."
" But when it annoys me? " said Bouvard.
" For my part, I don't admit it," rejoined Pecuchet.
He had recently been reading an analysis of Berkeley, and added :
" I deny extension, time, space, even substance ! for the true substance is the mind-perceiving qualities."
" Quite so," said Bouvard; " but get rid of the world, and you'll have no proof left of God's existence."
Pecuchet uttered a cry, and a long one too, although he had a cold in his 'head, caused by the iodine of potassium, and a continual feverishness increased his excitement. Bouvard, being uneasy about him, sent for the doctor.
Vaucorbeil ordered orange-syrup with the iodine, and for a later stage cinnabar baths.﻿PECUCHET
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" What's the use ? " replied Pecuchet. " One day or another the form will die out. The essence does not perish."
" No doubt," said the physician, " matter is indestructible. However-"
" Ah, no !—ah, no ! The indestructible thing is being. This body which is there in front of me— yours, doctor—prevents me from knowing your real self, is, so to speak, only a garment, or rather a mask."
Vaucorbeil believed he was mad.
" Good evening. Take care of your mask."
Pecuchet did not stop. He procured an introduction to the Hegelian philosophy, and wanted to explain it to Bouvard.
" All that is rational is real. There is not even any reality save the idea. The laws of the mind are laws of the universe; the reason of man is identical with that of God."
Bouvard pretended to understand.
" Therefore the absolute is, at the same time, the subject and the object, the unity whereby all differences come to be settled. Thus things that are contradictory are reconciled. The shadow permits of the light; heat and cold intermingled produce temperature. Organism only maintains itself by the destruction of organism; everywhere a principle which disunites, a principle which connects."
They were on the hillock, and the cure was walking past the gateway with his breviary in his hand.﻿33°
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Pecuchet asked him to come in, as he wanted to finish the explanation of Hegel, and to get some notion of what he would say about it.
The man of the cassock sat down beside them, and Pecuchet broached the question of Christianity.
" No religion has established this truth as well: ' Nature is but a moment of the idea.' "
"A moment of the idea!" murmured the priest in astonishment.
" Why, yes. God in taking a visible envelope showed his consubstantial union with it."
" With nature—oh ! oh ! "
" By His decease He bore testimony to the essence of death ; therefore, death was in Him, made, and makes part of God."
The ecclesiastic frowned.
" No blasphemies! it was for the salvation of the human race that He endured sufferings."
" Error! We look at death in the case of the individual, where, no doubt, it is a calamity ; but with relation to things it is different. Do not separate mind from matter."
" However, sir, before the Creation-"
"There was no creation. It has always existed. Otherwise this would be a new being adding itself to the Divine idea, which is absurd."
The priest rose up; business matters called him elsewhere.
" I flatter myself I've floored him ! " said Pecuchet. "One word more. Since the existence﻿PECUCHET
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of the world is but a continual passage from life to death, and from death to life, so far from everything existing, nothing is. But everything is becoming—do you understand ? "
" Yes; I do understand—or rather I don't."
Idealism in the end exasperated Bouvard.
" I don't want any more of it. The famous cogito stupefies me. Ideas of things are taken for the things themselves. What we understand very slightly is explained by means of words which we don't understand at all—substance, extension, force, matter, and soul. So much abstraction, imagination. As for God, it is impossible to know in what way He is, if He is at all. Formerly, He used to cause the wind, the thunderstorms, revolutions. At present, He is diminishing. Besides, I don't see the utility of Him."
" And morality—in this state of affairs."
" Ah ! so much the worse."
" It lacks a foundation in fact," said Pecuchet.
And he remained silent, driven into a corner by premises which he had himself laid down. It was a surprise—a crushing bit of logic.
Bouvard no longer even believed in matter.
The certainty that nothing exists (deplorable though it may be) is none the less a certainty. Few persons are capable of possessing it. This transcendency on their part inspired them with pride, and they would have liked to have made a display of it. An opportunity presented itself.﻿332
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One morning, while they were going to buy tobacco, they saw a crowd in front of Langlois' door. The public conveyance from Falaise was surrounded, and there was much excitement about a convict named Touache, who was wandering about the country. The conductor had met him at Croix-Verte between two gendarmes, and the people of Chavignolles breathed a sigh of relief.
Girbal and the captain remained on the green; then the justice of the peace made his appearance, curious to obtain information, and after him came M. Marescot in a velvet cap and sheepskin slippers.
Langlois invited them to honour his shop with their presence ; they would be more at their ease; and in spite of the customers and the loud ringing of the bell, the gentlemen continued their discussion as to Touache's offences.
" Goodness gracious ! " said Bouvard, " he had bad instincts. That was the whole of it! "
" They are conquered by virtue," replied the notary.
" But if a person has not virtue ? "
And Bouvard positively denied free-will.
"Yet," said the captain, "I can do what I like. I am free, for instance, to move my leg."
" No, sir, for you have a motive for moving
it."
The captain looked out for something to say in reply, and found nothing. But Girbal discharged this shaft:﻿PECUCHET
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" A Republican speaking against liberty That is funny."
" A droll story," chimed in Langlois.
Bouvard turned on him with this question:
" Why don't you give all you possess to the poor ? "
The grocer cast an uneasy glance over his entire shop.
" Look here now, I'm not such an idiot! I keep it for myself."
" If you were St. Vincent de Paul, you would act differently, since you would have his character. You obey your own. Therefore, you are not free."
" That's a quibble!" replied the company in chorus.
Bouvard did not flinch, and pointing towards the scales on the counter:
" It will remain motionless as long as each scale is empty. So with the will; and the oscillation of the scales between two weights which seem equal represents the strain on our mind when it is hesitating between the different motives, till the moment when the more powerful motive gets the better of it and leads it to a determination."
" All that," said Girbal, " makes no difference for Touache, and does not prevent him from being a downright vicious rogue."
Pecuchet addressed the company:
"Vices are properties of Nature, like floods, tempests."﻿3 34
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The notary stopped, and raising himself on tiptoe at every word:
" I consider your system one of complete immorality. It gives scope to every kind of excess, excuses crimes, and declares the guilty innocent."
"Exactly," replied Bouvard; "the wretch who follows his appetites is right from his own point of view just as much as the honest man who listens to reason."
" Do not defend monsters ! "
" Wherefore monsters ? When a person is born blind, an idiot, a homicide, this appears to us to be opposed to order, as if order were known to us, as if Nature were striving towards an end."
" You then raise a question about Providence ?"
"I do raise a question about it."
" Look rather to history," exclaimed Pecuchet. " Recall to mind the assassinations of kings, the massacres amongst peoples, the dissensions in families, the affliction of individuals."
" And at the same time," added Bouvard, for they mutually excited one another, "this Providence takes care of little birds, and makes the claws of crayfishes grow again. Oh! if by Providence you mean a law which rules everything, I am of the same opinion, and even more so."
" However, sir," said the notary, " there are principles."
" What stuff is that you're talking ? A science, according to Condillac, is so much the better the less need it has of them. They do nothing but﻿PECUCHET
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summarise acquired knowledge, and they bring us back to those conceptions which are exactly the disputable ones."
" Have you, like us," went on Pecuchet, " scrutinised, explored the arcana of metaphysics ?" "It is true, gentlemen—it is true! " Then the company broke up. But Coulon, drawing them aside, told them in a paternal tone that he was no devotee certainly, and that he even hated the Jesuits. However, he did not go as far as they did. Oh, no! certainly not. And at the corner of the green they passed in front of the captain, who, as he lighted his pipe, growled:
" All the same, I do what I like, by God!" Bouvard and Pecuchet gave utterance on other occasions to their scandalous paradoxes. They threw doubt on the honesty of men, the chastity of women, the intelligence of government, the good sense of the people—in short, they sapped the foundations of everything.
Foureau was provoked by their behaviour, and threatened them with imprisonment if they went on with such discourses.
The evidence of their own superiority caused them pain. As they maintained immoral propositions, they must needs be immoral: calumnies were invented about them. Then a pitiable faculty developed itself in their minds, that of observing stupidity and no longer tolerating it. Trifling﻿336
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things made them feel sad : the advertisements in the newspapers, the profile of a shopkeeper, an idiotic remark overheard by chance. Thinking over what was said in their own village, and on the fact that there were even as far as the Antipodes other Coulons, other Marescots, other Foureaus, they felt, as it were, the heaviness of all the earth weighing down upon them.
They no longer went out of doors, and received no visitors.
One afternoon, a dialogue arose, outside the front entrance, between Marcel and a gentleman who wore a hat with a large brim and dark spectacles. It was the academician Larsoneur. He was not without observing a curtain half-opening and doors being shut. This step on his part was an attempt at reconciliation; and he went away in a rage, directing the manservant to tell his masters that he regarded them as a pair of common fellows.
Bouvard and Pecuchet did not care about this. The world was diminishing in importance, and they saw it as if through a cloud that had descended from their brains over their eyes.
Is it not, moreover, an illusion, a bad dream ? Perhaps, on the whole, prosperity and misfortune are equally balanced. But the welfare of the species does not console the individual.
" And what do others matter to me ?" said Pecuchet.﻿PECUCHET
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His despair afflicted Bouvard. It was he who had brought his friend to this pass, and the ruinous condition of their house kept their grief fresh by daily irritations.
In order to revive their spirits they tried discussions, and prescribed tasks for themselves, but speedily fell back into greater sluggishness, into more profound discouragement.
At the end of each meal they would remain with their elbows on the table groaning with a lugubrious air.
Marcel would give them a scared look, and then would go back to his kitchen, where he stuffed himself in solitude.
About the middle of midsummer they received a circular announcing the marriage of Dumouchel with Madame Olympe-Zulma Poulet, a widow.
" God bless him ! "
And they recalled the time when they were happy.
Why were they no longer following the harvesters ? Where were the days when they went through the different farmhouses looking everywhere for antiquities ? Nothing now gave them such hours of delight as those which were occupied with the distillery and with literature. A gulf lay between them and that time. It was irrevocable.
They thought of taking a walk as of yore through the fields, wandered too far, and got lost. The sky was dotted with little fleecy clouds, the wind was shaking the tiny bells of the oats; a stream was
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purling along through a meadow—and then, all at once, an infectious odour made them halt, and they saw on the pebbles between the thorn trees the putrid carcass of a dog.
The four limbs were dried up. The grinning jaws disclosed under the bluish lips teeth of ivory ; in place of the stomach there was a mass of earth-coloured flesh which seemed to be palpitating with the vermin that swarmed all over it. It writhed, with the sun's rays falling on it, under the gnawing of so many mouths, in this intolerable stench—a stench which was fierce and, as it were, devouring.
Yet wrinkles gathered on Bouvard's forehead, and his eyes filled with tears.
Pecuchet said in a stoical fashion, " One day we shall be like that."
The idea of death had taken hold of them. They talked about it on their way back.
After all, it has no existence. We pass away into the dew, into the breeze, into the stars. We become portion of the sap of trees, the brilliance of precious stones, the plumage of birds. We give back to Nature what she lent to each of us, and the nothingness which is before us is not a bit more frightful than the nothingness that is behind us.
They tried to picture it to themselves under the form of an intense night, a bottomless pit, a continual swoon. Anything would be better than such an existence—monotonous, absurd, and hopeless.﻿PECUCHET
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They enumerated their unsatisfied wants. Bou-vard had always wished for horses, equipages, a big supply of Burgundy, and lovely women ready to accommodate him in a splendid habitation. Pecuchet's ambition was philosophical knowledge. Now the vastest of problems, that which contains the others, can be solved in one minute. When would it come, then ? "As well to make an end of it at once."
" Just as you like," said Bouvard.
And they investigated the question of suicide.
Where is the evil of casting aside a burden which is crushing you ? and of doing an act harmful to nobody ? If it offended God, would we have this power ? It is not cowardice, though people say so, and to scoff at human pride is a fine thing, even at the price of injury to oneself—the thing that men regard the most.
They deliberated as to the different kinds of death. Poison makes you suffer. In order to cut your throat you require too much courage. In the case of asphyxia, people often fail to effect their object.
Finally, Pecuchet carried up to the garret two ropes belonging to their gymnastic apparatus. Then, having fastened them to the same cross-beam of the roof, he let a slip-knot hang down from the end of each, and drew two chairs underneath to reach the ropes.
This method was the one they selected.
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They asked themselves what impression it would cause in the district, what would become of their library, their papers, their collections. The thought of death made them feel tenderly about themselves. However, they did not abandon their project, and by dint of talking about it they grew accustomed to the idea.
On the evening of the 24th of December, between ten and eleven o'clock, they sat thinking in the museum, both differently attired. Bouvard wore a blouse over his knitted waistcoat, and Pecuchet, through economy, had not left off his monk's habit for the past three months.
As they were very hungry (for Marcel, having gone out at daybreak, had not reappeared), Bouvard thought that it would be a healthy thing for him to drink a quart bottle of brandy, and for Pecuchet to take some tea.
While he was lifting up the kettle he spilled some water on the floor.
" Awkward ! " exclaimed Bouvard.
Then, thinking the infusion too small, he wanted to strengthen it with two additional spoonfuls.
" This will be execrable," said Pecuchet.
" Not at all."
And while each of them was drawing the work-box closer to himself, the tray upset and fell down. One of the cups was smashed—the last of their fine porcelain tea-service.
Bouvard turned pale.﻿﻿The candle was on the ground, and P6cuchet was standing on one of the chairs, with a rope in his hand.﻿PECUCHET
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" Go on ! Confusion ! Don't put yourself about! "
" Truly, a great misfortune! I attribute it to my father."
" Your natural father," corrected Pecuchet, with a sneer.
" Ha ! you insult me ! "
" No; but I am tiring you out! I see it plainly ! Confess it! "
And Pecuchet was seized with anger, or rather with madness. So was Bouvard. The pair of them began shrieking, the one excited by hunger, the other by alc( hoi. Pecuchet's throat at length emitted no sound save a rattling.
"It is infernal, a life like this. I much prefer death. Adieu ! "
He snatched up the candlestick and rushed out, slamming the door behind him.
Bouvard, plunged in darkness, found some difficulty in opening it. He ran after Pecuchet, and followed him up to the garret.
The candle was on the ground, and Pecuchet was standing on one of the chairs, with a rope in his hand. The spirit of imitation got the better of Bouvard.
" Wait for me ! "
And he had just got up on the other chair when, suddenly stopping:
" Why, we have not made our will! "
" Hold on ! That's quite true ! "﻿342
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Their breasts swelled with sobs. They leaned against the skylight to take breath.
The air was chilly, and a multitude of stars glittered in a sky of inky blackness.
The whiteness of the snow which covered the earth was lost in the haze of the horizon.
They perceived, close to the ground, little lights, which, as they drew near, looked larger, all reaching up to the side of the church.
Curiosity drove them to the spot. It was the midnight mass. These lights proceeded from shepherds' lanterns. Some of them were shaking their cloaks under the porch.
The serpent snorted; the incense smoked. Glasses suspended along the nave represented three crowns of many-coloured flames; and, at the end of the perspective at the two sides of the tabernacle, immense wax tapers were pointed with red flames. Above the heads of the crowd and the broad-brimmed hats of the women, beyond the chanters, the priest could be distinguished in his chasuble of gold. To his sharp voice responded the strong voices of the men who filled up the gallery, and the wooden vault quivered above its stone arches. The walls were decorated with the stations of the Cross. In the midst of the choir, before the altar, a lamb was lying down, with its feet under its belly and its ears erect.
The warm temperature imparted to them both a strange feeling of comfort, and their thoughts, which﻿PECUCHET
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had been so tempestuous only a short time before, became peaceful, like waves when they are calmed.
They listened to the Gospel and the Credo, and watched the movements of the priest. Meanwhile, the old, the young, the beggar women in rags, the mothers in high caps, the strong young fellows with tufts of fair down on their faces, were all praying, absorbed in the same deep joy, and saw the body of the Infant God shining, like a sun, upon the straw of a stable. This faith on the part of others touched Bouvard in spite of his reason, and Pecu-chet in spite of the hardness of his heart.
There was a silence; every back was bent, and, at the tinkling of a bell, the little lamb bleated.
The host was displayed by the priest, as high as possible between his two hands. Then burst forth a strain of gladness inviting the whole world to the feet of the King of Angels. Bouvard and Pecuchet involuntarily joined in it, and they felt, as it were, a new dawn rising in their souls.﻿IX
ARCEL reappeared next day at three o'clock, his face green, his eyes bloodshot, a lump on his forehead, his breeches torn, his breath tainted with a strong smell of brandy, and his person covered with dirt.
He had been, according to an annual custom of his, six leagues away at Iqueville to enjoy a midnight repast with a friend; and, stuttering more than ever, crying, wanting to beat himself, he begged of them for pardon, as if he had committed a crime. His masters granted it to him. A singular feeling of serenity rendered them indulgent.
The snow had suddenly melted, and they walked about the garden, inhaling the genial air, delighted merely with living.
Was it merely chance which had kept them back from death ? Bouvard felt deeply affected. Pecuchet recalled his first commission, and, full of gratitude to the Force, the Cause, on which they depended, the idea took possession of them to read pious works.
The Gospel dilated their souls, dazzled them﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
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like a sun. They perceived Jesus standing on a mountain, with one arm raised, while below the multitude listened to Him; or else on the margin of a lake, in the midst of the apostles, while they drew in their nets; next on the ass, in the clamour of the " alleluias," His hair fanned by the quivering palms; finally, lifted high upon the Cross, bending down His head, from which eternally falls a dew of blood upon the world. What won them, what ravished them, was His tenderness for the humble, His defence of the poor, His exaltation of the oppressed; and in that Book wherein Heaven unfolds itself, nothing theological in the midst of so many precepts, no dogma, no requirement save purity of heart.
As for the miracles, their reason was not astonished by them. They had been acquainted with them from their childhood. The loftiness of St. John enchanted Pecuchet, and better disposed him to appreciate the Imitation.
Here no more parables, flowers, birds, but lamentations—a compression of the soul into itself.
Bouvard grew sad as he turned over these pages, which seemed to have been written in foggy weather, in the depths of a cloister, between a belfry and a tomb. Our mortal life appeared there so wretched that one must needs forget it and return to God. And the two poor men, after all their disappointments, experienced that need of simple natures—to love something, to find rest for their souls.﻿346
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They studied Ecclesiastes, Isaiah, Jeremiah.
But the Bible dismayed them with its lion-voiced prophets, the crashing of thunder in the skies, all the sobbings of Gehenna, and its God scattering empires as the wind scatters clouds.
They read it on Sunday at the hour of vespers, while the bell was ringing.
One day they went to mass, and then came back. It was a kind of recreation at the end of the week. The Count and Countess de Faverges bowed to them from the distance, a circumstance which was remarked. The justice of the peace said to them with blinking eyes:
" Excellent! You have my approval."
All the village dames now sent them consecrated bread. The Abbe Jeufroy paid them a visit; they returned it; friendly intercourse followed; and the priest avoided talking about religion.
They were astonished at this reserve, so much so that Pecuchet, with an assumption of indifference, asked him what was the way to set about obtaining faith.
" Practise first of all."
They began to practise, the one with hope, the other with defiance, Bouvard being convinced that he would never be a devotee. For a month he regularly followed all the services ; but, unlike Pecuchet, he did not want to subject himself to Lenten fare.
Was this a hygienic measure ? We know what hygiene is worth. A matter of the proprieties ?﻿PECUCHET
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Down with the proprieties ! A mark of submission towards the Church? He laughed at it just as much; in short, he declared the rule absurd, Pharisaical, and contrary to the spirit of the Gospel.
On Good Friday in other years they used to eat whatever Germaine served up to them. But on this occasion Bouvard ordered a beefsteak. He sat down and cut up the meat, and Marcel, scandalised, kept staring at him, while Pecuchet gravely took the skin off his slice of codfish.
Bouvard remained with his fork in one hand, his knife in the other. At length, making up his mind, he raised a mouthful to his lips. All at once his hands began to tremble, his heavy countenance grew pale, his head fell back.
"Are you ill? "
" No. But-" And he made an avowal. In
consequence of his education (it was stronger than himself), he could not eat flesh meat on this day for fear of dying.
Pecuchet, without misusing his victory, took advantage of it to live in his own fashion. One evening he returned home with a look of sober joy imprinted on his face, and, letting the word escape, said that he had just been at confession.
Thereupon they argued about the importance of confession.
Bouvard acknowledged that of the early Christians, which was made publicly: the modern is too easy. However, he did not deny that this examina-﻿348
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tion concerning ourselves might be an element of progress, a leaven of morality.
Pecuchet, desirous of perfection, searched for his vices: for some time past the puffings of pride were gone. His taste for work freed him from idleness ; as for gluttony, there was nobody more moderate. Sometimes he was carried away by anger.
He made a vow that he would be so no more.
In the next place, it would be necessary to acquire the virtues: first of all, humility, that is to say, to believe yourself incapable of any merit, unworthy of the least recompense, to immolate your spirit, and to place yourself so low that people may trample you under their feet like the mud of the roads. He was far as yet from these dispositions.
Another virtue was wanting in him—chastity. For inwardly he regretted Melie, and the pastel of the lady in the Louis XV. dress disturbed him by her ample display of bosom. He shut it up in a cupboard, and redoubled his modesty, so much so that he feared to cast glances at his own person, and wore a pair of drawers in bed.
So many anxieties about lust tend to develop it. In the morning especially he had to undergo great struggles, just as St. Paul, St. Benedict, and St. Jerome had at a very advanced age. In consequence, they had recourse to fearful penances. Sorrow is an expiation, a remedy, and a help, a homage to Jesus Christ. All love desires sacrifices —and what more painful than that of our body ?﻿PECUCHET
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In order to mortify himself, Pecuchet gave up his little glass after meals, confined himself to four pinches of snuff in the day, and even in the coldest weather he did not any longer put on his cap.
One day, Bouvard, who was fastening up the vine, placed a ladder against the wall of the terrace near the house, and, without intending it, found himself landed in Pecuchet's room.
His friend, naked up to the middle, first gently smacked his shoulders with the cat-o'-nine-tails without quite undressing; then, getting animated, pulled off his shirtr lashed his buttocks, and sank breathless on a chair.
Bouvard was troubled as if at the unveiling of a mystery on which he should not have gazed.
For some time he had noticed a greater cleanliness about the floor, fewer holes in the napkins, and an improvement in the diet—changes which were due to the intervention of Reine, the cure's housekeeper. Mixing up the affairs of the Church with those of her kitchen, strong as a ploughman, and devoted though disrespectful, she gained admittance into households, gave advice, and became mistress in them. Pecuchet placed implicit confidence in her experience. „
On one occasion she brought to him a corpulent individual with narrow eyes like a Chinaman, and a nose like a vulture's beak. This was M. Gouttman, a dealer in pious articles. He unpacked﻿35°
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some of them shut up in boxes under the cart-shed : a cross, medals, and beads of all sizes ; candelabra for oratories, portable altars, tinsel bouquets, and sacred hearts of blue pasteboard, St. Josephs with red beards, and porcelain crucifixes. The price alone stood in his way.
Gouttman did not ask for money. He preferred barterings; and, having gone up to the museum, he offered a number of his wares for their collection of old iron and lead.
They appeared hideous to Bouvard. But Pe-cuchet's glance, the persistency of Reine, and the bluster of the dealer were effectual in making him yield.
Gouttman, seeing him so accommodating, wanted the halberd in addition; Bouvard, tired of having exhibited its working, surrendered it. The entire valuation was made. 11 These gentlemen still owed a hundred francs." It was settled by three bills payable at three months; and they congratulated themselves on a good bargain.
Their acquisitions were distributed through the various rooms. A crib filled with hay and a cork cathedral decorated the museum.
On Pecuchet's chimney-piece there was a St. John the Baptist in wax ; along the corridor were ranged the portraits of episcopal dignitaries ; and at the bottom of the staircase, under a chained lamp, stood a Blessed Virgin in an azure mantle and a crown of stars. Marcel cleaned up those﻿PECUCHET
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splendours, unable to imagine anything more beautiful in Paradise.
What a pity that the St. Peter was broken, and how nicely it would have done in the vestibule !
Pecuchet stopped sometimes before the old pit for composts, where he discovered the tiara, one sandal, and the tip of an ear; allowed sighs to escape him, then went on gardening, for now he combined manual labour with religious exercises, and dug the soil attired in the monk's habit, comparing himself to Bruno. This disguise might be a sacrilege ? He gave it up.
But he assumed the ecclesiastical style, no doubt owing to his intimacy with the cure. He had the same smile, the same tone of voice, and, like the priest too, he slipped both hands with a chilly air into his sleeves up to the wrists. A day came when he was pestered by the crowing of the cock and disgusted with the roses ; he no longer went out, or only cast sullen glances over the fields.
Bouvard suffered himself to be led to the May devotions. The children singing hymns, the gorgeous display of lilacs, the festoons of verdure, had imparted to him, so to speak, a feeling of imperishable youth. God manifested Himself to his heart through the fashioning of nests, the transparency of fountains, the bounty of the sun ; and his friend's devotion appeared to him extravagant, fastidious.
" Why do you groan during mealtime ? "﻿352
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" We ought to eat with groans," returned Pecu-chet, " for it was in that way that man lost his innocence"—a phrase which he had read in the " Seminarist's Manual," two duodecimo volumes which he had borrowed from M. Jeufroy : and he drank some of the water of La Salette, gave himself up with closed doors to ejaculatory prayers, and aspired to join the confraternity of St. Francis.
In order to obtain the gift of perseverance, he resolved to make a pilgrimage in honour of the Blessed Virgin. He was perplexed as to the choice of a locality. Would it be Notre Dame de Four-viers, de Chartres, d'Embrun, de Marseille, or d'Auray ? Notre Dame de la Delivrande was nearer, and it suited just as well.
" You will accompany me ? "
" I would look like a greenhorn," said Bouvard.
After all, he might come back a believer; he did not object to being one; and so he yielded through complaisance.
Pilgrimages ought to be made on foot. But forty-three kilometres would be trying; and the public conveyances not being adapted for meditation, they hired an old cabriolet, which, after a twelve hours' journey, set them down before the inn.
They got an apartment with two beds and two chests of drawers, supporting two water-jugs in little oval basins; and "mine host" informed them that this was "the chamber of the Capuchins" under the Terror. There La Dame de la Deli-﻿PECUCHET
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vrande had been concealed with so much precaution that the good fathers said mass there clandestinely.
This gave Pecuchet pleasure, and he read aloud a sketch of the history of the chapel, which had been taken downstairs into the kitchen.
It had been founded in the beginning of the second century by St. Regnobert, first bishop of Lisieux, or by St. Ragnebert, who lived in the seventh, or by Robert the Magnificent in the middle of the eleventh.
The Danes, the Normans, and, above all, the Protestants, had burnt and ravaged it at various epochs. About 1112, the original statue was discovered by a sheep, which indicated the place where it was by tapping with its foot in a field of grass; and on this spot Count Baudouin erected a sanctuary.
" ' Her miracles are innumerable. A merchant of Bayeux, taken captive by the Saracens, invoked her: his fetters fell off, and he escaped. A miser found a nest of rats in his corn loft, appealed to her aid, and the rats went away. The touch of a medal, which had been rubbed over her effigy, caused an old materialist from Versailles to repent on his death-bed. She gave back speech to Sieur Adeline, who lost it for having blasphemed; and by her protection, M. and Madame de Becqueville had sufficient strength to live chastely in the married state.
" ' Amongst those whom she cured of irre-
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mediable diseases are mentioned Mademoiselle de Palfresne, Anne Lirieux, Marie Duchemin, Fran?ois Dufai, and Madame de Jumillac, nee d'Osseville.
" 1 Persons of high rank have visited her : Louis XI., Louis XIII., two daughters of Gaston of Orleans, Cardinal Wiseman, Samirrhi, patriarch of Antioch, Monseigneur Veroles, vicar apostolic of Manchuria ; and the Archbishop of Quelen came to return thanks to her for the conversion of Prince Talleyrand.' "
" She might," said Pecuchet, " convert you also! "
Bouvard, already in bed, gave vent to a species of grunt, and presently was fast asleep.
Next morning at six o'clock they entered the chapel.
Another one was in course of construction. Canvas and boards blocked up the nave ; and the monument, in a rococo style, displeased Bouvard, above all the altar of red marble with its Corinthian pilasters.
The miraculous statue, in a niche at the left of the choir, was enveloped in a spangled robe. The beadle came up with a wax taper for each of them. He fixed it in a kind of candlestick overlooking the balustrade, asked for three francs, made a bow, and disappeared.
Then they surveyed the votive offerings. Inscriptions on slabs bore testimony to the gratitude of the faithful. They admired two swords in the form﻿PECUCHET
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of a cross presented by a pupil of the Polytechnic School, brides' bouquets, military medals, silver hearts, and in the corner, along the floor, a forest of crutches.
A priest passed out of the sacristy carrying the holy pyx.
When he had remained for a few minutes at the bottom of the altar, he ascended the three steps, said the Oremus, the Introit, and the Kyrie, which the boy who served mass recited all in one breath on bended knees.
The number present was small—a dozen or fifteen old women. The rattling of their beads could be heard accompanying the noise of a hammer driving in stones. Pecuchet bent over his prie-dieu and responded to the " Amens." During the elevation, he implored Our Lady to send him a constant and indestructible faith. Bouvard, in a chair beside him, took up his Euchology, and stopped at the litany of the Blessed Virgin.
" Most pure, most chaste, most venerable, most amiable, most powerful—Tower of ivory—House of gold—Gate of the morning."
These words of adoration, these hyperboles drew him towards the being who has been the object of so much reverence. He dreamed of her as she is represented in church paintings, above a mass of clouds, cherubims at her feet, the Infant God on her breast—Mother of tendernesses, upon whom all the sorrows of the earth have a claim—ideal of woman
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carried up to heaven; for man exalts that love arising out of the depths of the soul, and his only-aspiration is to rest upon her heart.
The mass was finished. They passed along by the dealers' sheds which lined the walls in front o{ the church. They saw there images, holy-water basins, urns with fillets of gold, Jesus Christs made of cocoa-nuts, and ivory chaplets; and the sun brought into prominence the rudeness of the paintings, the hideousness of the drawings. Bouvard, who had some abominable specimens at his; own residence, was indulgent towards these. He bought a little Virgin of blue paste. Pecuchet contented himself with a rosary as a memento.
The dealers called out: " Come on ! come on ! For five francs, for three francs, for sixty centimes, for two sous, don't refuse Our Lady! "
The two pilgrims sauntered about without making any selections from the proffered wares. Uncomplimentary remarks were made about them.
" What is it they want, these creatures ? "
" Perhaps they are Turks."
" Protestants, rather."
A big girl dragged Pecuchet by the frock-coat; an old man in spectacles placed a hand on his shoulder; all were bawling at the same time; and a number of them left their sheds, and, surrounding the pair, redoubled their solicitations and effronteries.
Bouvard could not stand this any longer.﻿PECUCHET
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" Let us alone, for God's sake! "
The crowd dispersed. But one fat woman followed them for some distance, and exclaimed that they would repent of it.
When they got back to the inn they found Gouttman in the cafe. His business called him to these quarters, and he was talking to an individual who was examining accounts at a table.
This person had a leather cap, a very wide pair of trousers, a red complexion, and a good figure in spite of his white hair: the appearance at the same time of a retired officer and an old strolling player.
From time to time he rapped out an oath; then, when Gouttman replied in a mild tone, he calmed down at once and passed to another part of the accounts.
Bouvard who had been closely watching him, at the end of a quarter of an hour came up to his side.
" Barberou, I believe ? "
" Bouvard ! " exclaimed the man in the cap, and they embraced one another.
Barberou had in the course of twenty years experienced many changes of fortune. He had been editor of a newspaper, an insurance agent, and manager of an oyster-bed.
" I will tell you all about it," he said.
At last, having returned to his original calling, he was travelling for a Bordeaux house, and﻿35§
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Gouttman, who took care of the diocese, disposed of wines for him to the ecclesiastics. " But," he hurriedly added, "you must pardon me one minute; then I will be at your service."
He was proceeding with the examination of the accounts, and all of a sudden he jumped up excitedly.
" What! two thousand ? " " Certainly."
" Ha ! it's wrong, that's what it is ! " " What do you say ? "
" I say that I've seen Herambert myself," replied Barberou in a passion. " The invoice makes it four thousand. No humbug! "
The dealer was not put out of countenance. " Well, it discharges you—what next ? " Barberou, as he stood there with his face at first pale and then purple, impressed Bouvard and Pecuchet with the apprehension that he was about to strangle Gouttman.
He sat down, folded his arms, and said : " You are a vile rascal, you must admit." "No insults, M. Barberou. There are witnesses. Be careful! "
" I'll rap an action at you!" " Ta ! ta! ta ! " Then having fastened together his books, Gouttman lifted the brim of his hat: " I wish you luck on't! " With these words he went off.
Barberou explained the facts : For a credit of a﻿PECUCHET
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thousand francs doubled by a succession of renewals ■with interest, he delivered to Gouttman three thousand francs' worth of wines. This would pay his debt with a profit of a thousand francs; but, on the contrary, he owed three thousand on the transaction ! His employers might dismiss him ; they might even prosecute him !
"Blackguard! robber! dirty Jew! And this fellow dines at priests' houses! Besides, everything that touches the clerical headpiece-"
And he went on railing against the priests, and he struck the table with such violence that the little statue was near falling.
" Gently ! " said Bouvard.
" Hold on ! What's this here ? " And Barberou having removed the covering of the little Virgin : "A pilgrimage bauble! Yours?"
" 'Tis mine," said Pecuchet.
" You grieve me," returned Barberou; " but I'll give you a wrinkle on that point. Don't be afraid." And as one must be a philosopher, and as there is no use in fretting, he invited them to come and lunch with him.
The three sat down together at table.
Barberou was agreeable, recalled old times, took hold of the maid-servant's waist, and wanted to measure the breadth of Bouvard's stomach. He would soon see them again, and would bring them a droll book.
The idea of his visit was more or less pleasant to﻿360
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them. They chatted about it in the omnibus for an hour, while the horse was trotting. Then Pecuchet shut his eyes. Bouvard also relapsed into silence. Internally he felt an inclination towards religion.
"M. Marescot had the day before called to make an important communication"—Marcel knew no moie about it.
They did not see the notary till three days after; and at once he explained the matter.
Madame Bordin offered to buy the farm from M. Bouvard, and to pay him seven thousand five hundred francs a year.
She had been casting sheep's eyes on it since her youth, knew the boundaries and lands all around it, its defects and advantages ; and this desire consumed her like a cancer.
For the good lady, like a true Norman, cherished above everything landed estate, less for the security of the capital than for the happiness of treading on soil that belonged to herself. In that hope she had devoted herself to inquiries, inspections from day to day, and prolonged economies, and she waited with impatience for Bouvard's answer.
He was perplexed, not desiring that Pecuchet one day should be fortuneless; but it was necessary to seize the opportunity—which was the result of the pilgrimage, for the second time Providence had shown itself favourable to them. They proposed the following conditions : An annual payment, not of seven thousand five hundred francs, but of six﻿PECUCHET
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thousand francs, provided that it should pass to the survivor.
Marescot made the point that one of them was in delicate health. The constitution of the other gave him an apoplectic tendency. Madame Bordin, carried away by her ruling passion, signed the contract.
Bouvard got into a melancholy frame of mind about it. Somebody might desire his death; and this reflection inspired him with serious thoughts, ideas about God and eternity.
Three days after, M. Jeufroy invited them to the annual dinner which it was his custom to give to his colleagues. The dinner began at two o'clock in the afternoon, and was to finish at eleven at night.
Perry was used at it as a beverage, and puns were circulated. The Abbe Pruneau, before they broke up, composed an acrostic; M. Bougon performed card-tricks; and Cerpet, a young curate, sang a little ballad which bordered on gallantry.
The cure frequently came to see them. He presented religion under graceful colours. And, after all, what risk would they run ? So Bouvard expressed his willingness to approach the holy table shortly, and Pecuchet was to participate in the sacrament on the same occasion.
The great day arrived. The church, on account of the first communions, was thronged with worshippers. The village shopkeepers and their womenfolk were crowded close together in their seats, and the common people either remained standing up﻿362
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behind or occupied the gallery right over the church door.
What was going to take place presently was inexplicable—so Bouvard reflected ; but reason does not suffice for the comprehension of certain things. Great men have admitted that. Let him do as much as they had done; and so, in a kind of torpor, he contemplated the altar, the censer, the tapers, with his head a little light, for he had eaten nothing, and experienced a singular weakness.
Pecuchet, by meditating on the Passion of Jesus Christ, excited himself to outbursts of love. He would have liked to offer his soul up to Him as well as the souls of others—and the ecstasies, the transports, the illumination of the saints, all beings, the entire universe. Though he prayed with fervour, the different parts of the mass seemed to him a little long.
At length the little boys knelt down on the first step of the altar, forming with their coats a black band, above which rose light or dark heads of hair at unequal elevations. Then the little girls took their places, with their veils falling from beneath their wreaths. From a distance it resembled a row of white clouds at the end of the choir.
Then it was the turn of the great personages.
The first on the gospel-side was Pecuchet; but, too much moved, no doubt, he kept swaying his head right and left. The cure found difficulty in putting the host into his mouth, and as he received it he turned up the whites of his eyes.﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard, on the contrary, opened his jaws so widely, that his tongue hung over his lip like a streamer. On rising up he jostled against Madame Bordin. Their eyes met. She smiled; without knowing the reason why, he reddened.
After Madame Bordin, Mademoiselle de Faverges, the countess, their lady companion, and a gentleman who was not known at Chavignolles approached the altar in a body.
The two last were Placquevent and Petit, the schoolmaster, and then, all of a sudden, Gorju made his appearance. He had got rid of the tuft on his chin; and, as he went back to his place, he had his arms crossed over his breast in a very edifying fashion.
The cure harangued the little boys. Let them take care later on in life not to act like Judas, who betrayed his God, but to preserve always their robe of innocence.
Pecuchet was regretting his when there was a sudden moving of the seats: the mothers were in a hurry to embrace their children.
The parishioners, on their way out, exchanged felicitations. Some shed tears. Madame de Fa-verges, while waiting for her carriage, turned round towards Bouvard and Pecuchet, and presented her future son-in-law: "Baron de Mahurot, engineer." The count was sorry not to have the pleasure of their company. He would be back the following week. " Pray bear it in mind."﻿364
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The carriage having now come up, the ladies of the chateau departed, and the throng dispersed.
They found a parcel inside their own grounds in the middle of the grass. The postman, as the house had been shut up, had thrown it over the wall. It was the work which Barberou had promised to send, " Examination of Christianity," by Louis Hervieu, a former pupil of the Normal School. Pecuchet would have nothing to say to it, and Bouvard had no desire to make himself acquainted with it.
He had been repeatedly told that the sacrament would transform him. For several days he awaited its blossomings in his conscience. He remained the same as ever, and a painful astonishment took possession of him.
What! The Flesh of God mingles with our flesh, and it produces no effect there! The Thought which governs the worlds does not illuminate our spirits! The Supreme Power abandons us to impotence!
M. Jeufroy, while reassuring him, prescribed for him the catechism of the Abbe Gaume.
On the other hand, Pecuchet's devotion had become developed. He would have liked to communicate under the two species, kept singing psalms as he walked along the corridor, and stopped the people of Chavignolles to argue and to convert them. Vau-corbeil laughed in his nose) Girbal shrugged his shoulders; and the captain called him " Tartuffe."
It was now thought that they were going too far.
It is an excellent custom to consider things as﻿PECUCHET
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so many symbols. If the thunder rumbles, imagine to yourself the Last Judgment; at sight of a cloudless sky, think of the abode of the blessed; say to yourself in your walks that every step brings you nearer to death. Pecuchet observed this method. When he took hold of his clothes, he thought of the carnal envelope in which the Second Person of the Trinity was clad; the ticking of the clock recalled to him the beatings of His heart, and the prick of a pin the nails of the Cross. But in vain did he remain on his knees for hours and multiply his fasts and strain his imagination. He did not succeed in getting detached from self; it was impossible to attain to perfect contemplation.
He had recourse to mystic authors: St. Theresa, John of the Cross, Louis of Granada, Simpoli, and, of the more modern, Monseigneur Chaillot. Instead of the sublimities which he expected, he only encountered platitudes, a very disjointed style, frigid imagery, and many comparisons drawn from lapidaries' shops.
He learned, however, that there is an active purgation and a passive purgation, an internal vision and an external vision, four kinds of prayers, nine excellencies in love, six degrees in humility, and that the wounding of the soul is not very different from spiritual theft.
Some points embarrassed him.
" Since the flesh is accursed, how is it that we are bound to thank God for the boon of existence ? "﻿366
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" What proportion must be observed between the fear indispensable to the salvation and the hope which is no less so ? " " Where is the sign of grace ? " etc.
M. Jeufroy's answers were simple.
" Don't annoy yourself. By desiring to sift everything we rush along a perilous slope."
The " Catechism of Perseverance," by Gaume, had disgusted Pecuchet so much that he took up Louis Hervieu's book. It was a summary of modern exegesis, prohibited by the government. Barberou, as a republican, had bought the book.
It awakened doubts in Bouvard's mind, and, first of all, on original sin. " If God had created man peccable, He ought not to punish him; and evil is anterior to the Fall, since there were already volcanoes and wild beasts. In short, this dogma upsets my notions of justice."
" What would you have ? " said the cure. " It is one of those truths about which everybody is agreed, without being able to furnish proofs of it; and we ourselves make the crimes of their fathers rebound on the children. Thus morality and law justify this decree of Providence since we find it in nature."
Bouvard shook his head. He had also doubts about hell.
" For every punishment should look to the amelioration of the guilty person, which is impossible where the penalty is eternal; and how many are enduring it ? Just think! All the ancients, the Jews, the Mussulmans, the idolaters, the heretics, and the﻿PECUCHET
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children who have died without baptism—those children created by God, and for what end ?—for the purpose of being punished for a sin which they did not commit ! "
" Such is St. Augustine's opinion," added the cure; " and St. Fulgentius involves even the unborn child in damnation. The Church, it is true, has come to no decision on this matter. One remark, however. It is not God, but the sinner who damns himself; and the offence being infinite, since God is infinite, the punishment must be infinite. Is that all, sir ? "
" Explain the Trinity to me," said Bouvard.
" With pleasure. Let us take a comparison : the three sides of a triangle, or rather our soul, which contains being, knowing, and willing; what we call faculty in the case of man is person in God. There is the mystery."
" But the three sides of the triangle are not each the triangle ; these three faculties of the soul do not make three souls, and your persons of the Trinity are three Gods."
" Blasphemy ! "
" So then there is only one person, one God, one substance affected in three ways ! "
" Let us adore without understanding," said the cure.
" Be it so," said Bouvard. He was afraid of being taken for an atheist, and getting into bad odour at the chateau.﻿368
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They now visited there three times a week, about five o'clock in winter, and the cup of tea warmed them. The count's manners " recalled the ease of the ancient court"; the countess, placid and plump, exhibited much discernment about everything. Mademoiselle Yolande, their daughter, was " the type of the young person," the angel of " keepsakes" ; and Madame Noares, their lady companion, resembled Pecuchet in having a pointed nose like him.
The first time they entered the drawing-room she was defending somebody.
" I assure you he is changed. His gift is a proof of it."
This somebody was Gorju. He had made the engaged couple an offer of a Gothic prie-dieu. It was brought. The arms of the two houses appeared on it in coloured relief. M. de Mahurot seemed satisfied with it, and Madame de Noares said to him :
" You will remember my proteges ? "
Then she brought in two children, a brat of a dozen years and his sister, who was perhaps ten. Through the holes in their rags could be seen their limbs, reddened with cold. The one was shod in old slippers, the other had only one wooden shoe on. Their foreheads disappeared under their hair, and they stared around them with burning eyeballs, like famished wolves.
Madame de Noares told how she had met them﻿PECUCHET
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that morning on the high-road. Placquevent could not give any information about them.
They were asked their names.
" Victor—Victorine."
" Where was their father ? "
" In jail."
" And what was he doing before that ? "
" Nothing."
" Their country ? "
" St. Pierre."
" But which St. Pierre ? "
The two little ones for sole response, said, snivelling :
"Don't know—don't know."
Their mother was dead, and they were begging.
Madame de Noares explained how dangerous it would be to abandon them ; she moved the countess, piqued the count's sense of honour, was backed up by mademoiselle, pressed the matter— succeeded.
The gamekeeper's wife would take charge of them. Later on, work would be found for them, and, as they did not know how to read or write, Madame de Noares gave them lessons herself, with a view to preparing them for catechism.
When M. Jeufroy used to come to the chateau, the two youngsters would be sent for; he would question them, and then deliver a lecture, into which he would import a certain amount of display on account of his audience.
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On one occasion, when the abbe had discoursed about the patriarchs, Bouvard, on the way home with him and Pecuchet, disparaged them very much.
" Jacob is notorious for his thieveries, David for his murders, Solomon for his debaucheries."
The abbe replied that we should look further into the matter. Abraham's sacrifice is a pre-figurement of the Passion ; Jacob is another type of the Messiah, just like Joseph, like the Brazen Serpent, like Moses.
" Do you believe," said Bouvard, " that he composed the ' Pentateuch ' ? "
" Yes, no doubt."
"And yet his death is recorded in it; the same observation applies to Joshua ; and, as for the Judges, the author informs us that, at the period whose history he was writing, Israel had not yet kings. The work was, therefore, written under the Kings. The Prophets, too, astonish me."
" He's going to deny the Prophets now ! "
" Not at all! but their overheated imagination saw Jehovah under different forms—that of a fire, of a bush, of an old man, of a dove; and they were not certain of revelation since they are always asking for a sign."
"Ha! and where have you found out these nice things ? "
" In Spinosa."
At this word, the cure jumped.
" Have you read him ? "﻿PECUCHET
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" God forbid ! "
" Nevertheless, sir, science--"
" Sir, no one can be a scholar without being a Christian."
Science furnished a subject for sarcasms on his part :
" Will it make an ear of corn sprout, this science of yours ? What do we know ? " he said.
But he did know that the world was created for us ; he did know that archangels are above the angels; he did know that the human body will rise again such as it was about the age of thirty.
His ecclesiastical self-complacency provoked Bou-vard, who, through want of confidence in Louis Hervieu, had written to Varlot; and Pecuchet, better informed, asked M. Jeufroy for explanations of Scripture.
The six days of Genesis mean six great epochs. The pillage of the precious vessels made by the Jews from the Egyptians must be interpreted to mean intellectual riches, the arts of which they had stolen the secret. Isaiah did not strip himself completely, nudus in Latin signifying "up to the hips" : thus Virgil advises people to go naked in order to plough, and that writer would not have given a precept opposed to decency. Ezekiel devouring a book has nothing extraordinary in it; do we not speak of devouring a pamphlet, a newspaper ?
" But if we see metaphors everywhere, what will become of the facts ? "
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The abbe maintained, nevertheless, that they were realities.
This way of understanding them appeared disloyal to Pecuchet. He pushed his investigations further, and brought a note on the contradictions of the Bible.
" Exodus teaches us that for forty years they offered up sacrifices in the desert; according to Amos and Jeremiah they offered up none. Pari-lipomenon and the book of Esdras are not in agreement as to the enumeration of the people. In Deuteronomy, Moses saw the Lord face to face; according to Exodus, he could not see Him. Where then is the inspiration ? "
" An additional ground for admitting it," replied M. Jeufroy smiling. " Impostors have need of connivance ; the sincere take no such precautions. In perplexity, have recourse to the Church. She is always infallible."
" On whom does her infallibility depend ? " " The Councils of Basle and of Constance attribute it to the councils. But often the councils are at variance—witness that which decided in favour of Athanasius and of Arius; those of Florence and Lateran award it to the Pope."
"But Adrian VI. declares that the Pope may be mistaken, like any other person."
"Quibbles! All that does not affect the permanence of dogma."
" Louis Hervieu's work points out the varia-﻿PECUCHET
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tions: baptism was formerly reserved for adults, extreme unction was not a sacrament till the ninth century, the Real Presence was decreed in the eighth, purgatory recognised in the fifteenth, the Immaculate Conception is a thing of yesterday."
And so it came to pass that Pecuchet did not know what to think of Jesus. Three Evangelists make him out to be a man. In one passage of St. John he appears to be equal to God ; in another, all the same, to acknowledge himself His inferior.
The abbe rejoined by citing the letter of King Abgar, the acts of Pilate, and the testimony of the sibyls, "the foundation of which is genuine." He found the Virgin again amongst the Gauls, the announcement of a Redeemer in China, the Trinity everywhere, the Cross on the cap of the Grand Lama, and in Egypt in the closed hands of the gods; and he even exhibited an engraving representing a nilometer, which, according to Pecuchet, was a phallus.
M. Jeufroy secretly consulted his friend Pru-neau, who searched for proofs for him in the authors. A conflict of erudition was waged, and, lashed by conceit, Pecuchet became abstruse, mythological. He compared the Virgin to I sis, the Eucharist to the Homa of the Persians, Bacchus to Moses, Noah's ark to the ship of Xithurus. These analogies demonstrated to his satisfaction the identity of religions.﻿374
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But there cannot be several religions, since there is only one God. And when he was at the end of his arguments, the man in the cassock exclaimed : " It is a mystery ! "
" What is the meaning of that word ? Want of knowledge : very good. But if it denotes a thing the mere statement of which involves contradiction, it is a piece of stupidity."
And now Pecuchet would never let M. Jeufroy alone. He would surprise him in the garden, wait for him in the confessional, and take up the argument again in the sacristy.
The priest had to invent plans in order to escape from him.
One day, after he had started for Sassetot on a sick call, Pecuchet proceeded along the road in front of him in such a way as to render conversation inevitable.
It was an evening about the end of August. The red sky began to darken, and a large cloud lowered above them, regular at the base and forming volutes at the top.
Pecuchet at first talked about indifferent subjects, then, having slipped out the word "martyr":
" How many do you think there were of them?"
" A score of millions at least."
" Their number is not so great according to Origen."
" Origen, you know, is open to suspicion.'"
A big gust of wind swept past, violently shaking﻿PECUCHET
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the grass beside the ditches and the two rows of young elm trees that stretched towards the end of the horizon.
Pecuchet went on :
" Amongst the martyrs we include many Gaulish bishops killed while resisting the barbarians, which is no longer the question at issue."
" Are you going to defend the emperors ?"
According to Pecuchet, they had been calumniated.
" The history of the Theban legion is a fable. I also question Symphorosa and her seven sons, Felicitas and her seven daughters, and the seven virgins of Ancyra condemned to violation, though septuagenarians, and the eleven thousand virgins of St. Ursula, of whom one companion was called Un-decemilla, a name taken for a figure ; still more, the ten martyrs of Alexandria! "
" And yet! and yet they are found in authors worthy of credit."
Raindrops fell, and the cure unrolled his umbrella; and Pecuchet, when he was under it, went so far as to maintain that the Catholics had made more martyrs than the Jews, the Mussulmans, the Protestants, and the Freethinkers—than all those of Rome in former days.
The priest exclaimed:
" But we find ten persecutions from the reign of Nero to that of Caesar Galba ! "
" Well! and the massacres of the Albigenses ?﻿376
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and St. Bartholomew ? and the revocation of the Edict of Nantes ? "
" Deplorable excesses, no doubt; but you are not going to compare these people to St. Etienne, St. Lawrence, Cyprian, Polycarp, a crowd of missionaries ?"
" Excuse me! I will remind you of Hypatia, Jerome of Prague, John Huss, Bruno, Vanini, Anne Dubourg!"
The rain increased, and its drops dashed down with such force that they rebounded from the ground like little white rockets.
Pecuchet and M. Jeufroy walked on slowly, pressed close to one another, and the cure said:
" After abominable tortures they were flung into vessels of boiling water."
" The Inquisition made use of the same kind of torture, and it burned very well for you."
" Illustrious ladies were exhibited to the public gaze in the lupanars."
" Do you believe Louis XIV.'s dragoons regarded decency ? "
" And mark well that the Christians had done nothing against the State."
" No more did the Huguenots."
The wind drove, swept the rain into the air. It clattered on the leaves, trickled at the side of the road; and the mud-coloured sky intermingled with the fields, which lay bare after the close of harvest. Not a roof. Only, in the distance, a shepherd's hut.﻿PECUCHET
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Pecuchet's thin overcoat had no longer a dry thread in it. The water ran along his spine, got into his boots, into his ears, into his eyes, in spite of the Amoros headpiece. The cure, while lifting up with one hand the tail-end of his cassock, uncovered his legs ; and the points of his three-cornered hat sputtered the water over his shoulders, like the gargoyles of a cathedral.
They had to stop, and, turning their backs to the storm, they remained face to face, belly to belly, holding with their four hands the swaying umbrella.
M. Jeufroy had not interrupted his vindication of the Catholics.
" Did they crucify your Protestants, as was done to St. Simeon; or get a man devoured by two tigers, as happened to St. Ignatius ? "
" But make some allowance for the number of women separated from their husbands, children snatched from their mothers, and the exile of the poor across the snow, in the midst of precipices. They huddled them together in prisons; just when they were at the point of death they were dragged along on the hurdle."
The abbe sneered. " You will allow me not to believe a word of it. And our martyrs are less doubtful. St. Blandina was delivered over naked in a net to a furious cow. St. Julia was beaten to death. St. Taracus, St. Probus, and St. Andro nicus had their teeth broken with a hammer, their﻿378
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sides torn with iron combs, their hands pierced with reddened nails, and their scalps carried off."
"You are exaggerating," said Pecuchet. "The death of the martyrs was at that time an amplification of rhetoric."
"What! of rhetoric?"
" Why, yes; whilst what I relate to you, sir, is history. The Catholics in Ireland disembowelled pregnant women in order to take their children-"
" Never!"
"-and give them to the pigs."
" Come now! "
" In Belgium they buried women alive."
" What nonsense ! "
" We have their names."
" And even so," objected the priest, angrily shaking his umbrella, " they cannot be called martyrs. There are no martyrs outside the Church."
" One word. If the value of a martyr depends on the doctrine, how could he serve to demonstrate its existence ? "
The rain ceased; they did not speak again till they reached the village. But, on the threshold of the presbytery, the cure said:
" I pity you ! really, I pity you ! "
Pecuchet immediately told Bouvard about the wrangle. It had filled him with an antipathy to religion, and, an hour later, seated before a brushwood fire, they both read the " Cure Meslier."﻿PECUCHET
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These dull negations disgusted Pecuchet; then, reproaching himself for perhaps having misunderstood heroes, he ran through the history of the most illustrious martyrs in the " Biography."
What a clamour from the populace when they entered the arena! and, if the lions and the jaguars were too quiet, the people urged them to come forward by their gestures and their cries. The victims could be seen covered with gore, smiling where they stood, with their gaze towards heaven. St. Perpetua bound up her hair in order that she might not look dejected.
Pecuchet began to reflect. The window was open, the night tranquil; many stars were shining. There must have passed through these martyrs' souls things of which we have no idea—a joy, a divine spasm! And Pecuchet, by dwelling on the subject, believed that he understood this emotion, and that he would have done the same himself.
" You ? "
" Certainly."
" No fudge ! Do you believe—yes or no ? "
" I don't know."
He lighted a candle; then, his eyes falling on the crucifix in the alcove:
" How many wretches have sought help from that!"
And, after a brief silence :
" They have denaturalised Him. It is the fault of Rome—the policy of the Vatican."﻿38O
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But Bouvard admired the Church for her magnificence, and would have brought back the Middle Ages to be a cardinal.
" You must admit I would have looked well in the purple."
Pecuchet's headpiece, placed in front of the fire, was not yet dry. While stretching it out he felt something in the lining, and out tumbled a medal of St. Joseph.
Madame de Noares wanted to ascertain from Pecuchet if he had not experienced, as it were, a change, a happiness, and betrayed herself by her questions. On one occasion, whilst he was playing billiards, she had sewn the medal in his cap.
Evidently she was in love with him : they might marry; she was a widow, and he had no suspicion of this attachment, which might have brought about his life's happiness.
Though he exhibited a more religious tendency than M. Bouvard, she had dedicated him to St. Joseph, whose succour is favourable to conversions.
No one knew so well as she did all the beads and the indulgences which they procure, the effect of relics, the privileges of blessed waters. Her watch was attached to a chain that had touched the bonds of St. Peter. Amongst her trinkets glittered a pearl of gold, in imitation of the one in the church of Allouagne containing a tear of Our Lord; a ring on her little finger enclosed some of the hair of the cure of Ars, and, as she was in﻿PECUCHET
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the habit of collecting simples for the sick, her apartment was like a sacristy combined with an apothecary's laboratory.
Her time was passed in writing letters, in visiting the poor, in dissolving irregular connections, and in distributing photographs of the Sacred Heart. A gentleman was going to send her " martyr's paste," a mixture of paschal wax and human dust taken from the Catacombs, and used in desperate cases in fly-blisters and pills. She promised some of it to Pecuchet.
He appeared shocked at such materialism.
In the evening a footman from the chateau brought him a basketful of little books relating pious phrases of the great Napoleon, witticisms of clergymen at inns, frightful deaths that had happened to atheists. All those things Madame de Noares knew by heart, along with an infinite number of miracles. She told about stupid ones — miracles without an object, as though God had performed them to excite the wonder of the world. Her own grandmother had locked up in a cupboard some prunes covered with a piece of linen, and when the cupboard was opened a year later they saw thirteen of them on the cloth forming a cross.
" Explain this to me."
This was the phrase she used after her yarns, which she declared to be true, with the obstinacy of a she-ass. Apart from this she was a harmless woman of lively disposition.﻿382
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On one occasion, however, " she deviated from her character."
Bouvard was disputing with her about the miracle of Pezilla: a fruit-dish in which wafers had been hidden during the Revolution became gilded of itself.
" Perhaps there was at the bottom a little yellow colour caused by humidity ? "
" Not at all! I repeat it, there was not! The cause of the gilding was the contact with the Eucharist."
By way of proof she relied on the attestations of bishops.
"It is, they say, like a buckler, a—a palladium over the diocese of Perpignan. Ask M. Jeufroy, then ! "
Bouvard could not stand it any longer; and, when he had looked over his Louis Hervieu, took Pecuchet off with them.
The clergyman was finishing his dinner. Reine offered them chairs, and, at a gesture from her master, she went to fetch two little glasses, which she filled with Rosolio.
After this Bouvard explained what had brought him there.
The abbe did not reply candidly.
" Everything is possible to God, and the miracles are a proof of religion."
" However, there are laws."
" That makes no difference here. He sets them aside in order to instruct, to correct."﻿PECUCHET
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" How do you know whether He sets them aside ? " returned Bouvard. " As long as Nature follows her routine we never bestow a thought on it, but in an extraordinary phenomenon we see the hand of God."
" It may be there," replied the ecclesiastic ; " and when an occurrence has been certified by witnesses-"
" The witnesses swallow everything, for there are spurious miracles."
The priest grew red.
" Undoubtedly ; sometimes."
" How can we distinguish them from the genuine ones ? If the genuine ones, given as proofs, have themselves need of proofs, why perform them ? "
Reine interposed, and, preaching like her master, said it was necessary to obey.
" Life is a passage, but death is eternal."
" In short," suggested Bouvard, guzzling the Rosolio, " the miracles of former times are not better demonstrated than the miracles of to-day; analogous reasonings uphold those of Christians and Pagans."
The cure flung down his fork on the table.
"Again I tell you these miracles were spurious! There are no miracles outside of the Church."
"Stop!" said Pecuchet, "the same argument as for the martyrs: the doctrine rests on the facts and the facts on the doctrine."﻿384
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M. Jeufroy having swallowed a glass of water, replied:
" Even while denying them you believe in them. The world which twelve fishermen converted—look at that! it seems to me a fine miracle."
" Not at all! "
Pecuchet gave a different account of the matter: "Monotheism comes from the Hebrews; the Trinity from the Indians; the Logos belongs to Plato, and the Virgin Mother to Asia."
No matter! M. Jeufroy clung to the supernatural and did not desire that Christianity should have humanly the least reason for its existence, though he saw amongst all peoples foreshadowings or deformations of it. The scoffing impiety of the eighteenth century he would have tolerated, but modern criticism, with its politeness, exasperated him.
"I prefer the atheist who blasphemes to the sceptic who cavils."
Then he looked at them with an air of bravado, as if to dismiss them.
Pecuchet returned home in a melancholy frame of mind. He had hoped for a reconciliation between faith and reason.
Bouvard made him read this passage from Louis Hervieu:
"In order to know the abyss which separates them, oppose their axioms.
" Reason says to you : ' The whole comprehends﻿PECUCHET
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the part,' and faith replies to you: ' By substantiation, Jesus, while communicating with the apostles, had His body in His hand and His head in His mouth.'
" Reason says to you: * No one is responsible for the crime of another,' and faith replies to you: ' By original sin.'
" Reason says to you : ' Three make three,' and faith declares that ' Three make one.'"
They no longer associated with the abbe.
It was the period of the war with Italy. The respectable people were trembling for the Pope. They were thundering against Victor Emmanuel. Madame de Noares went so far as to wish for his death. Bouvard and Pecuchet only protested timidly.
When the door of the drawing-room flew open in front of them and they looked at themselves in the lofty mirrors, as they passed, whilst through the windows they caught a glimpse of the walks where glared above the grass the red waistcoat of a man-servant, they felt a sensation of delight; and the luxuriousness of their surroundings rendered them indulgent to the words that were uttered there.
The count lent them all the works of M. de Maistre. He expounded the principles contained in them before a circle of intimate friends—Hurel, the cure, the justice of the peace, the notary, and the baron, his future son-in-law, who used to come
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from time to time for twenty-four hours to the chateau.
" What is abominable," said the count, " is the spirit of '89. First of all they question the existence of God; then they dispute about government; then comes liberty—liberty for insults, for revolt, for enjoyments, or rather for plunder, so that religion and authority ought to proscribe the independents, the heretics. No doubt they will protest against what they call persecution, as if the executioners persecuted the criminals. Let me resume: No State without God ! the law being unable to command respect unless it comes from on high, and, in fact, it is not a question of the Italians, but of determining which will have the best of it, the Revolution or the Pope, Satan or Jesus Christ."
M. Jeufroy expressed his approval by monosyllables, Hurel by means of a smile, and the justice of the peace by nodding his head. Bouvard and Pecuchet kept their eyes fixed on the ceiling ; Madame de Noares, the countess, and Yolande were making clothes for the poor, and M. de Mahurot, beside his betrothed, was turning over the leaves of a book.
Then came intervals of silence, during which everyone seemed to be absorbed in the investigation of a problem. Napoleon III. was no longer a saviour, and he had even given a deplorable example by allowing the masons at the Tuileries to work on Sunday.﻿PECUCHET
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" It ought not to be permitted," was the ordinary phrase of the count.
Social economy, fine arts, literature, history, scientific doctrines—on all he decided in his quality of Christian and father of a family; and would to God that the government, in this respect, exercised the same severity that he exhibited in his household ! Authority alone is the judge of the dangers of science: spread too extensively, it inspires fatal ambitions in the breasts of the people. They were happier, these poor people, when the nobles and the bishops tempered the absolutism of the king. The manufacturers now make use of them. They are on the point of sinking into slavery.
And all looked back with regret to the old regime, Hurel through meanness, Coulon through ignorance, Marescot as a man of artistic tastes.
Bouvard, when he found himself at home once more, fortified his mind with a course of Lamettrie, Holbach, and others; whilst Pecuchet forsook a religion which had become a medium of government.
M. de Mahurot had communicated in order the better to charm " these ladies," and, if he adopted it as a practice, it was in the interests of the servants.
A mathematician and dilettante, who played waltzes on the piano and admired Topffer, he was distinguished by a tasteful scepticism. What was stated about feudal abuses, the Inquisition, and the
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Jesuits, was the result of prejudice. He extolled progress, though he despised everyone who was not a gentleman, or who had not come from the Polytechnic School!
M. Jeufroy likewise displeased the two friends. He believed in sorcery, made jokes about idolatry, declared that all idioms are derived from the Hebrew. His rhetoric lacked the element of novelty: it was invariably the stag at bay, honey and absinthe, gold and lead, perfumes, urns, and the comparison of the Christian soul to the soldier who ought to say in the face of sin : " Thou must not pass ! "
In order to avoid his discourses they used to come to the chateau at as late an hour as possible.
One day, however, they encountered him there. He had been an hour awaiting his two pupils. Suddenly Madame de Noares entered.
" The little girl has disappeared. I am bringing Victor in. Ah! the wretch!"
She had found in his pocket a silver thimble which she had lost three days ago. Then, stifled with sobs:
" That is not all! While I was giving him a scolding, he showed his hind-quarters! "
And, ere the count and countess could have said a word :
"However, it is my own fault: pardon me! " She had concealed from them the fact that the two orphans were the children of Touache, who was now in prison.﻿PECUCHET
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What was to be done ?
If the count sent them away they would be lost, and his act of charity would be taken for a caprice.
M. Jeufroy was not surprised. Since man is corrupt, our natural duty is to punish him in order to improve him.
Bouvard protested. Leniency was better. But the count once more expatiated on the iron hand indispensable for children as well as for the people. These two children were full of vices—the little girl untruthful, the boy brutish. This theft, after all, might have been excused, the impertinence never. Education ought to be the school of respect.
Therefore Sorel, the gamekeeper, would immediately administer to the youngster a good flogging.
M. de Mahurot, who had something to say to him, undertook the commission. He went to the anteroom for a gun, and called Victor, who had remained in the centre of the courtyard with downcast head.
" Follow me," said the baron. As the way to the gamekeeper's lodge turned off a little from Chavignolles, M. Jeufroy, Bouvard, and Pecuchet accompanied him.
At a hundred paces from the chateau, he begged of them not to speak any more while he was walking along the wood.
The ground sloped down to the river's edge, where great blocks of stone rose up. At sunset they looked like slabs of gold. On the opposite﻿390
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side the green hillocks were wrapped in shadow. A keen wind was blowing. Rabbits came out of their burrows, and began browsing on the grass.
A shot went off; a second; a third: and the rabbits jumped up, then rolled over. Victor flung himself on them to seize hold of them, and panted, soaking with perspiration.
"You have your clothes in nice condition! " said the baron.
There was blood on his ragged blouse.
Bouvard shrank from the sight of blood. He did not admit that it ought to be shed.
M. Jeufroy returned :
" Circumstances sometimes necessitate it. If the guilty person does not give his own, there is need of another's—a truth which the Redemption teaches us."
According to Bouvard, it had been hardly of any use, since nearly all mankind would be damned, in spite of the sacrifice of Our Lord.
" But every day He renews it in the Eucharist."
" And whatever be the unworthiness of the priest," said Pecuchet, " the miracle takes place at the words."
"There is the mystery, sir."
Meanwhile Victor had riveted his eyes on the gun, and he even tried to touch it.
" Down with your paws ! " And M. de Mahurot took a long path through the wood.
The clergyman had placed Pecuchet at one side﻿PECUCHET
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of him and Bouvard at the other, and said to the latter :
u Attention, you know. Debetuv puevis"
Eouvard assured him that he humbled himself in the presence of the Creator, but was indignant at their having made Him a man. We fear His vengeance; we work for His glory. He has every virtue: an arm, an eye, a policy, a habitation.
"' Our Father, who art in heaven,' what does thtt mean ?"
And Pecuchet added : " The world has got enlirged ; the earth is no longer its central point. It revolves amongst an infinite multitude of other worlds. Many of them surpass it in grandeur, and this belittlement of our globe shows a more sublime ideal of God.
" So, then, religion must change. Paradise is something infantile with its blessed always in a state of contemplation, always chanting hymns, and looking from on high at the tortures of the damned. When one reflects that Christianity had for its basis an apple!"
The cure was annoyed. " Deny revelation ; that would be simpler."
" How do you make out that God spoke ?" said Bouvard.
" Prove that He did not speak ! " said M. Jeufroy.
" Once again, who affirms it ? "
" The Church."
" Nice testimony ! "﻿392
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This discussion bored M. de Mahurot, and, as he walked along: " Pray listen to the cure. He knows more than you."
Bouvard and Pecuchet made signs to indicate that they were taking another road ; then, at Croix-Verte :
"A very good evening."
" Your servant," said the baron.
All this would be told to M. de Fa verges, md perhaps a rupture would result. So much the worse. They felt that they were despised by those people of rank. They were never asked to dinner, and they were tired of Madame de Noares, with her continual remonstrances.
They could not, however, keep the De Maistre; and a fortnight after they returned to the chateau, not expecting to be welcomed. They were. All the family were in the boudoir, and amongst those present were Hurel and, strangely enough, Foureau.
Correction had failed to correct Victor. He refused to learn his catechism ; and Victorine gave utterance to nasty words. In short, the boy should go to a reformatory, and the girl to a nunnery. Foureau was charged with carrying out the measure, and he was going off when the countess called him back.
They were waiting for M. Jeufroy to fix the date of the marriage, which was to take place at the mayor's office before being celebrated in the church, in order to show that they looked on civil marriage with contempt.﻿PECUCHET
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Foureau tried to defend it. The count and Hurel attacked it. What was a municipal function beside a priesthood ? — and the baron would not have believed himself to be really wedded if he had been only married in the presence of a tri-coloured scarf.
" Bravo ! " said M. Jeufroy, who had just come in. " Marriage having been established by Jesus Christ-"
Pecuchet stopped him: " In which Gospel ? In the Apostolic times they respected it so little that Tertullian compares it to adultery."
" Oh ! upon my word ! "
" Yes, certainly ! and it is not a sacrament. A sign is necessary for a sacrament. Show me the sign in marriage."
In vain did the cure reply that it represented the union of God with the Church.
" You do not understand Christianity either! And the law-"
" The law preserves the stamp of Christianity," said M. de Faverges. " Without that, it would permit polygamy."
A voice rejoined : " Where would be the harm ? "
It was Bouvard, half hidden by a curtain.
" You might have many wives, like the Patriarchs, the Mormons, the Mussulmans, and nevertheless be an honest man."
" Never ! " exclaimed the priest; " honesty consists in rendering what is due. We owe homage﻿394
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to God. So he who is not a Christian is not honest."
" Just as much as others," said Bouvard.
The count, believing that he saw in this rejoinder an attack on religion, extolled it. It had set free the slaves.
Bouvard referred to authorities to prove the contrary :
" St. Paul recommends them to obey their masters as they would Jesus. St. Ambrose calls servitude a gift of God. Leviticus, Exodus, and the Councils have sanctioned it. Bossuet treats it as a part of the law of nations. And Monseigneur Bouvier approves of it."
The count objected that, none the less, Christianity had developed civilisation.
" Ay, and idleness by making a virtue of poverty."
" However, sir, the morality of the Gospel ? "
" Ha ! ha ! not so moral ! Those who only labour during the last hour are paid as much as those who labour from the first hour. To him who hath is given, and from him who hath not is taken away. As for the precept of receiving blows without returning them and of letting yourself be robbed, it encourages the audacious, the cowardly, and the dissolute."
They were doubly scandalised when Pecuchet declared that he liked Buddhism as much.
The priest burst out laughing.﻿PECUCHET
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" Ha ! ha ! ha ! Buddhism ! "
Madame de Noares lifted up her hands: " Buddhism ! "
" What! Buddhism ! " repeated the count.
"Do you understand it?" said Pecuchet to M. Jeufroy, who had got confused. "Well, then, learn something about it. Better than Christianity, and before it, it has recognised the nothingness of earthly things. Its practices are austere, its faithful more numerous than the entire body of Christians ; and, as for incarnation, Vishnu had not merely one, but nine of them. So judge."
"Travellers' lies!" said Madame de Noares.
"Backed up by the Freemasons!" added the cure.
And all talking at the same time:
" Come, then, go on ! "
" Very pretty ! "
" For my part, I think it funny ! "
" Not possible ! "
So much so that Pecuchet, exasperated, declared that he would become a Buddhist!
" You are insulting Christian ladies," said the baron.
Madame de Noares sank into an armchair. The countess and Yolande remained silent. The count kept rolling his eyes; Hurel was waiting for his orders. The abbe, to contain himself, read his breviary.
This sight calmed M. de Faverges; and, looking at the two worthies :﻿396
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" Before you find fault with the Gospel, and that when there may be stains on your own lives, there is some reparation-"
" Reparation ? "
" For stains ? "
" Enough! gentlemen. You don't understand me." Then, addressing Foureau : " Sorel is informed about it. Go to him."
Bouvard and Pecuchet withdrew without bowing.
At the end of the avenue they all three gave vent to their indignation.
" They treated me as if I were a servant," grumbled Foureau ; and, as his companions agreed with him, in spite of their recollection of the affair of the piles, he exhibited towards them a kind of sympathy.
Road-menders were working in the neighbourhood. The man who was over them drew near: it was Gorju. They began to chat.
He was overseeing the macadamisation of the road, voted in 1848, and he owed this post to M. de Mahurot, the engineer. " The one that's going to marry Mademoiselle de Faverges. I suppose 'tis from the house below you were just coming ? "
" For the last time," said Pecuchet gruffly.
Gorju assumed an innocent air. " A quarrel ! Come, come !"
And if they could have seen his countenance when they had turned on their heels, they might have observed that he scented out the cause of it.﻿PECUCHET
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A little further on, they stopped before a trellised enclosure, inside which there were kennels, and also a red-tiled cottage.
Victorine was on the threshold. They heard dogs barking. The gamekeeper's wife came out. Knowing the object of the mayor's visit, she called out Victor. Everything was ready beforehand, and their outfit was contained in two pocket-handkerchiefs fastened together with pins.
"A pleasant journey," said she to them, too glad to have no more to do with such vermin.
Was it their fault if they owed their birth to a convict father ? On the contrary, they seemed very quiet, and did not even betray any alarm *as to the place to which they were being conveyed.
Bouvard and Pecuchet watched them as they walked in front of them.
Victorine muttered some unintelligible words, with her little bundle over her arm, like a milliner carrying a bandbox.
Every now and then, she would turn round, and Pecuchet, at the sight of her fair curls and her pretty figure, regretted that he had not such a child. Brought up under different conditions she would be charming later on. What happiness only to see her growing big, to hear day after day her bird-like warbling, to kiss her when the fancy seized him!—and a feeling of tenderness, rising from his heart to his lips, made his eyes grow moist and somewhat oppressed his spirit.﻿398
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Victor, like a soldier, had slung his baggage over his shoulder. He whistled, threw stones at the crows in the furrows, and went to cut switches off the trees.
Foureau called him back ; and Bouvard, holding him by the hand, was delighted at feeling within his own those fingers of a robust and vigorous lad. The poor little wretch asked for nothing but to grow freely, like a flower in the open air ! and he would rot between closed walls with tasks, punishment, a heap of tomfooleries! Bouvard was seized with pity, springing from a sense of revolt, a feeling of indignation against Fate, one of those fits of rage in which one longs to destroy government altogether.
" Jump about ! " he said, " amuse yourself! Have a bit of fun as long as you can! "
The youngster scampered off.
His sister and himself were to sleep at the inn, and at daybreak the messenger from Falaise would take Victor and set him down at the reformatory of Beaubourg ; while a nun belonging to the orphanage of Grand-Camp would come to fetch Victorine.
Foureau having gone into these details, was once more lost in his own thoughts. But Bouvard wanted to know how much the maintenance of the youngsters would cost.
" Bah ! a matter perhaps of three hundred francs. The count has given me twenty-five for the first disbursements. What a stingy fellow!"﻿PECUCHET
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And, stung to the heart by the contempt shown towards his scarf, Foureau quickened his pace in silence.
Bouvard murmured : " They make me feel sad. I will take the charge of them."
" And so will I," said Pecuchet, the same idea having occurred to both of them.
No doubt there were impediments ?
" None," returned Foureau. Besides, he had the right as mayor to entrust deserted children to whomsoever he thought fit. And, after a prolonged hesitation :
" Well, yes; take them! That will annoy him."
Bouvard and Pecuchet carried them off.
When they returned to their abode they found, at the end of the staircase, under the Madonna, Marcel upon his knees praying with fervour. With his head thrown back, his eyes half closed, and his hare-lip gaping, he had the appearance of a fakir in ecstasy.
" What a brute ! " said Bouvard.
" Why ? He is perhaps attending to things that would make you envy him if you could only see them. Are there not two worlds entirely distinct ? The aim of a process of reasoning is of less consequence than the manner of reasoning. What does the form of belief matter ? The great thing is to believe."
Such were the objections of Pecuchet to Bou-vard's observation.﻿X
. HEY procured a number of works relating to education, and resolved to adopt a system of their own. It was necessary to banish every metaphysical idea, and,
in accordance with the experimental method, to follow in the lines of natural development.
There was no hurry, for the two pupils might forget what they had learned.
Though they had strong constitutions, Pecuchet wanted, like a Spartan, to make them more hardy, to accustom them to hunger, thirst, and severe weather, and even insisted on their feet being badly shod in order that they might be prepared for colds. Bouvard was opposed to this.
The dark closet at the end of the corridor was used as their sleeping apartment. Its furniture consisted of two folding beds, two couches, and a jug. Above their heads the top window was open, and spiders crawled along the plaster. Often they recalled to mind the interior of a cabin where they used to wrangle. One night their father came home with blood on his hands. Some time afterwards the gendarmes arrived. After that they lived in a wood.﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET	4OI
Men who made wooden shoes used to kiss their mother. She died, and was carried off in a cart. They used to get great beatings; they got lost. Then they could see once more Madame de Noares and Sorel; and, without asking themselves the reason why they were in this house, they felt happy there. But they were disagreeably surprised when at the end of eight months the lessons recommenced. Bouvard took charge of the little girl, and Pecuchet of the boy.
Victor was able to distinguish letters, but did not succeed in forming syllables. He stammered over them, then stopped suddenly, and looked like an idiot. Victorine put questions. How was it that " ch " in " orchestre " had the sound of a "q," and that of a "k" in "archeologique.'' We must sometimes join two vowels and at other times separate them. All this did not seem to her right. She grew indignant at it.
The teachers gave instruction at the same hour in their respective apartments, and, as the partition was thin, these four voices, one soft, one deep, and two sharp, made a hideous concert. To finish the business and to stimulate the youngsters by means of emulation, they conceived the idea of making them work together in the museum ; and they proceeded to teach them writing. The two pupils, one at each end of the table, copied written words that were set for them; but the position of their bodies was awkward. It was necessary to straighten them ;
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their copybooks fell down; their pens broke, and the ink bottles got turned upside down.
Victorine, on certain days, went on capitally for about three minutes, then she would begin to scrawl, and, seized with discouragement, she would sit with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Victor was not long before he fell asleep, lying over his desk.
Perhaps they were distressed by it ? Too great a strain was bad for young heads.
" Let us stop," said Bouvard.
There is nothing so stupid as to make children learn by heart; yet, if the memory is not exercised, it will go to waste, and so they taught the youngsters to get off like parrots the first fables of La Fontaine. The children expressed their approval of the ant that heaped up treasure, of the wolf that devoured the lamb, and of the lion that took everyone's share.
When they had become more audacious, they spoiled the garden. But what amusement could be provided for them ?
Jean Jacques in " limile " advises the teacher to get the pupil to make his own playthings. Bouvard could not contrive to make a hoop or Pecuchet to sew up a ball. They passed on to toys that were instructive, such as cut-paper-work. Pecuchet showed them his microscope. When the candle was lighted, Bouvard would sketch with the shadow of his finger on the wall the profile of a hare or a pig. But the pupils grew tired of it.﻿PECUCHET
Writers have gone into raptures about the delight-fulness of an open-air lunch or a boating excursion. Was it possible for them really to have such recreations ? Fenelon recommends from time to time "an innocent conversation." They could not invent one. So they had to-come back to the lessons—the multiplying bowls, the erasures of their scrawlings, and the process of teaching them how to read by copying printed characters. All had proved failures, when suddenly a bright idea struck them.
As Victor was prone to gluttony, they showed him the name of a dish: he soon ran through " Le Cuisinier Frangais" with ease. Victorine, being a coquette, was promised a new dress if she wrote to the dressmaker for it: in less than three weeks she accomplished this feat. This was playing on their vices—a pernicious method, no doubt; but it had succeeded.
Now that they had learned to read and write, what should they be taught ? Another puzzle.
Girls have no need of learning, as in the case of boys. All the same, they are usually brought up like mere animals, their sole intellectual baggage being confined to mystical follies.
Is it expedient to teach them languages ? " Spanish and Italian," the Swan of Cambray lays down, " scarcely serve any purpose save to enable people to read dangerous books."
Such a motive appeared silly to them. However, Victorine would only have to do with these
26—2﻿BOUVARD AND
languages; whereas English is more widely used. Pecuchet proceeded to study the rules of the language. He seriously demonstrated the mode of expressing the "th"—"like this, now, the, the, the"
But before instructing a child we must be acquainted with its aptitudes. They may be divined by phrenology. They plunged into it, then sought to verify its assertions by experiments on their own persons. Bouvard exhibited the bumps of benevolence, imagination, veneration, and amorous energy—vulgo, erotism. On Pecuchet's temples were found philosophy and enthusiasm allied with a crafty disposition. Such, in fact, were their characters. What surprised them more was to recognise in the one as well as in the other a propensity towards friendship, and, charmed with the discovery, they embraced one another with emotion.
They next made an examination of Marcel. His greatest fault, of which they were not ignorant, was an excessive appetite. Nevertheless Bouvard and Pecuchet were dismayed to find above the top of the ear, on a level with the eye, the organ of alimentivity. With advancing years their servant would perhaps become like the woman in the Sal-petriere, who every day ate eight pounds of bread, swallowed at one time fourteen different soups, and at another sixty bowls of coffee. They might not have enough to keep him.
The heads of their pupils presented no curious characteristics. No doubt they had gone the wrong﻿PECUCHET	405
way to work with them. A very simple expedient enabled them to develop their experience.
On market days they insinuated themselves into the midst of the country people on the green, amongst the sacks of oats, the baskets of cheese, the calves and the horses, indifferent to the jost-lings; and whenever they found a young fellow with his father, they asked leave to feel his skull for a scientific purpose. The majority vouchsafed no reply; others, fancying it was pomatum for ringworm of the scalp, refused testily. A few, through indifference, allowed themselves to be led towards the porch of the church, where they would be undisturbed.
One morning, just as Bouvard and Pecuchet were commencing operations, the cure all at once presented himself, and seeing what they were about, denounced phrenology as leading to materialism and to fatalism. The thief, the assassin, the adulterer, have henceforth only to cast the blame of their crimes on their bumps.
Bouvard retorted that the organ predisposes towards the act without forcing one to do it. From the fact that a man has in him the germ of a vice, there is nothing to show that he will be vicious.
" However, I wonder at the orthodox, for, while upholding innate ideas, they reject propensities. What a contradiction ! "
But phrenology, according to M. Jeufroy, denied Divine Omnipotence, and it was unseemly to prac-﻿406
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tise under the shadow of the holy place, in the very face of the altar.
"Take yourselves off! No!—take yourselves off!"
They established themselves in the shop of Ganot, the hairdresser. Bouvard and Pecuchet went so far as to treat their subjects' relations to a shave or a clip. One afternoon the doctor came to get his hair cut. While seating himself in the armchair he saw in the glass the reflection of the two phrenologists passing their fingers over a child's pate.
" So you are at these fooleries ? " he said.
"Why foolery?"
Vaucorbeil smiled contemptuously, then declared that there were not several organs in the brain. Thus one man can digest food which another cannot digest. Are we to assume that there are as many stomachs in the stomach as there are varieties of taste ?
They pointed out that one kind of work is a relaxation after another; an intellectual effort does not strain all the faculties at the same time; each has its distinct seat.
" The anatomists have not discovered it," said Vaucorbeil.
" That's because they have dissected badly," replied Pecuchet.
" What? "
" Oh, yes! they cut off slices without regard to the connection of the parts"—a phrase out of a book which recurred to his mind.﻿PECUCHET
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" What a piece of nonsense ! " exclaimed the physician. "The cranium is not moulded over the brain, the exterior over the interior. Gall is mistaken, and I defy you to justify his doctrine by taking at random three persons in the shop."
The first was a country woman, with big blue eyes.
Pecuchet, looking at her, said:
" She has a good memory."
Her husband attested the fact, and offered himself for examination.
" Oh! you, my worthy fellow, it is hard to lead you."
According to the others, there was not in the world such a headstrong fellow.
The third experiment was made on a brat who was accompanied by his grandmother.
Pecuchet observed that he must be fond of music.
" I assure you it is so," said the good woman. " Show these gentlemen, that they may see for themselves."
He drew a Jew's harp from under his blouse and began blowing into it.
There was a crashing sound—it was the violent slamming of the door by the doctor as he went out.
They were no longer in doubt about themselves, and summoning their two pupils, they recommenced the analysis of their skull-bones.
That of Victorine was even all round, a sign﻿408
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of ponderation; but her brother had an unfortunate cranium—a very large protuberance in the mastoid angle of the parietal bones indicated the organ of destructiveness, of murder; and a swelling lower down was the sign of covetousness, of theft. Bou-vard and Pecuchet remained dejected for eight days.
But it was necessary to comprehend the exact sense of words: what we call combativeness implies contempt for death. If it causes homicides, it may likewise bring about the saving of lives. Acquisitiveness includes the tact of pickpockets and the ardour of merchants. Irreverence has its parallel in the spirit of criticism, craft in circumspection. An instinct always resolves itself into two parts, a bad one and a good one. The one may be destroyed by cultivating the other, and by this system a daring child, far from being a vagabond, will become a general. The sluggish man will have only prudence; the penurious, economy; the extravagant, generosity.
A magnificent dream filled their minds. If they carried to a successful end the education of their pupils, they would later on found an establishment having for its object to correct the intellect, to subdue tempers, and to ennoble the heart. Already they talked about subscriptions and about the building.
Their triumph in Ganot's shop had made them famous, and people came to consult them in order that they might tell them their chances of good luck.﻿PECUCHET
All sorts of skulls were examined for this purpose —bowl-shaped, pear-shaped, ones rising up like sugar loaves, square ones, high ones, contracted and flat ones, with bulls' jaws, birds' faces, and eyes like pigs'; but such a crowd of people disturbed the hairdresser in his work. Their elbows rubbed against the glass cupboard that contained the perfumery, they put the combs out of order, the wash-hand stand was broken; so he turned out all the idlers, begging of Bouvard and Pecuchet to follow them, an ultimatum which they unmurmuringly accepted, being a little worn out with cranioscopy.
Next day, as they were passing before the little garden of the captain, they saw, chatting with him, Girbal, Coulon, the keeper, and his younger son, Zephyrin, dressed as an altar boy. His robe was quite new, and he was walking below before returning to the sacristy, and they were complimenting him.
Curious to know what they thought of him, Placquevent asked " these gentlemen" to feel his young man's head.
The skin of his forehead looked tightly drawn; his nose, thin and very gristly at the tip, drooped slantwise over his pinched lips; his chin was pointed, his expression evasive, and his right shoulder was too high.
" Take off your cap," said his father to him.
Bouvard slipped his hands through his straw-coloured hair; then it was Pecuchet's turn, and﻿BOUVARD AND
they communicated to one another their observations in low tones:
" Evident love of books ! Ha ! ha ! appvobative-ness ! Conscientiousness wanting! No amativeness ! "
" Well ? " said the keeper.
Pecuchet opened his snuff-box, and took a pinch.
" Faith ! " replied Bouvard, " this is scarcely a genius."
Placquevent reddened with humiliation.
" All the same, he will do my bidding."
" Oho ! Oho ! "
" But I am his father, by God! and I have certainly the right-"
" Within certain limits," observed Pecuchet.
Girbal interposed. "The paternal authority is indispensable."
" But if the father is an idiot ? "
" No matter," said the captain ; " his power is none the less absolute."
" In the interests of the children," added Coulon.
According to Bouvard and Pecuchet, they owed nothing to the authors of their being; and the parents, on the other hand, owed them food, education, forethought—in fact, everything.
Their good neighbours protested against this opinion as immoral. Placquevent was hurt by it as though it were an insult.
" For all that, they are a nice lot that you collect on the high-roads. They will go far. Take care !"﻿PECUCHET
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" Care of what ? " said Pecuchet sourly.
" Oh! I am not afraid of you."
" Nor I of you either."
Coulon here used his influence to restrain the keeper and induce him to go away quietly.
For some minutes there was silence. Then there was some talk about the dahlias of the captain, who would not let his friends depart till he had exhibited every one of them.
Bouvard and Pecuchet were returning homeward when, a hundred paces in front of them, they noticed Placquevent; and close beside him Zephyrin was lifting up his elbow, like a shield, to save his ear from being boxed.
What they had just heard expressed, in another form, were the opinions of the count ; but the example of their pupils proved how much liberty had the advantage over coercion. However, a little discipline was desirable.
Pecuchet nailed up a blackboard in the museum for the purpose of demonstrations. They each resolved to keep a journal wherein the things done by the pupil, noted down every evening, could be read next morning, and, to regulate the work, by ringing the bell when it should be finished. Like Dupont de Nemours, they would, at first, make use of the paternal injunction, then of the military injunction, and familiarity in addressing them would be forbidden.
Bouvard tried to teach Victorine ciphering.﻿412
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Sometimes he would make mistakes, and both of them would laugh. Then she would kiss him on the part of his neck which was smoothest and ask leave to go, and he would give his permission.
Pecuchet at the hour for lessons in vain rang the bell and shouted out the military injunction through the window. The brat did not come. His socks were always hanging over his ankles ; even at table he thrust his fingers into his nostrils, and did not even keep in his wind. Broussais objects to reprimands on this point on the ground that "it is necessary to obey the promptings of a conservative instinct."
Victorine and he made use of frightful language, saying, "me itou" instead of " moi aussi," "here" instead of " boire," " al" instead of " elle," and " deventiau" with the "iau"; but, as grammar cannot be understood by children, and as they would learn the use of language by hearing others speak correctly, the two worthy men watched their own words till they found it quite distressing.
They held different views about the way to teach geography. Bouvard thought it more logical to commence with the commune, Pecuchet with the entire world.
With a watering-pot and some sand he sought to demonstrate what was meant by a river, an island, a gulf, and even sacrificed three flower-beds to explain three continents; but the cardinal points could not be got into Victor's head.﻿﻿" Imagine that this armchair is the sun and that I am the earth; it moves like this."﻿PECUCHET
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On a night in January Pecuchet carried him off in the open country. While they walked along he held forth on astronomy: mariners find it useful on their voyages; without it Christopher Columbus would not have made his discovery. We owe a debt of gratitude to Copernicus, to Galileo, and to Newton.
It was freezing hard, and in the dark blue sky countless stars were scintillating. Pecuchet raised his eyes.
" What! No Ursa Major ! "
The last time when he had seen it it was turned to the other side. At length he recognised it, then pointed out the polar star, which is always turned towards the north, and by means of which travellers can find out their exact position.
Next day he placed an armchair in the middle of the room and began to waltz round it.
"Imagine that this armchair is the sun and that I am the earth ; it moves like this."
Victor stared at him, filled with astonishment.
After this he took an orange, passed through it a piece of stick to indicate the poles, then drew a circle across it with charcoal to mark the equator. He next moved the orange round a wax candle, drawing attention to the fact that the various points on the surface were not illuminated at the same time —which causes the difference of climates; and for that of the seasons he sloped the orange, inasmuch as the earth does not stand up straight—which brings about the equinoxes and the solstices.﻿4H
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Victor did not understand a bit of it. He believed that the earth turns round in a long needle, and that the equator is a ring pressing its circumference.
By means of an atlas Pecuchet exhibited Europe to him; but, dazzled by so many lines and colours, he could not any longer distinguish the names of different places. The bays and the mountains did not harmonise with the respective nations ; the political order confused the physical order. All this, perhaps, might be cleared up by studying history.
It would have been more practical to begin with the village, and go on next to the arrondissement, the department, and the province; but, as Chavignolles had no annals, it was absolutely necessary to stick to universal history. It was rendered embarrassing by such a variety of details that one ought only to select its beautiful features. For Greek history there are : " We shall fight in the shade," the banishment of Aristides by the envious, and the confidence of Alexander in his physician. For Roman, the geese of the Capitol, the tripod of Scaevola, the barrel of Regulus. The bed of roses of Guatimozin is noteworthy for America. As for France, it supplies the vase of Soissons, the oak of St. Louis, the death of Joan of Arc, the boiled hen of Bearnais— you have only too extensive a field to select from, not to speak of "A moi d'Auvergne! " and the shipwreck of the Vengeur.
Victor confused the men, the centuries, and the countries. Pecuchet, however, was not going to﻿PECUCHET
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plunge him into subtle considerations, and the mass of facts is a veritable labyrinth. He confined himself to the names of the kings of France. Victor forgot them through not knowing the dates. But, if Dumouchel's system of mnemonics had been insufficient for themselves, what would it be for him ! Conclusion: history can only be learned by reading a great deal. He would do this.
Drawing is useful where there are a heap of details; and Pecuchet was courageous enough to try to learn it himself from Nature by working at the landscape forthwith. A bookseller at Bayeux sent him paper, india-rubber, pasteboard, pencils, and fixatives, with a view to the works, which, framed and glazed, would adorn the museum.
Out of bed at dawn, they started each with a piece of bread in his pocket, and much time was lost in finding a suitable scene. Pecuchet wanted at the same time to reproduce what he found under his feet, the extreme horizon, and the clouds; but the backgrounds always got the better of the foregrounds ; the river tumbled down from the sky; the shepherd walked over his flock; and a dog asleep looked as if he were hunting. For his part, he gave it up, remembering that he had read this definition :
" Drawing is composed of three things, line, grain, and fine graining, and, furthermore, the powerful touch. But it is only the master who can give the powerful touch."﻿416
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He rectified the line, assisted in the graining process, watched over the fine graining, and waited for the opportunity of giving the powerful touch. It never arrived, so incomprehensible was the pupil's landscape.
His sister, who was just as lazy, used to yawn over the multiplication table. Mademoiselle Reine showed her how to stitch, and when she was marking linen she lifted his fingers so nicely that Bouvard afterwards had not the heart to torment her with his lesson in ciphering. One of these days they would resume it. No doubt arithmetic and sewing are necessary in a household ; but it is cruel, Pecuchet urged, to bring up girls merely with an eye to the husbands they might marry. All of them are not destined for wedlock; if we want them later on to do without men, we ought to teach them many things.
The sciences can be taught in connection with the commonest objects; for instance, by telling what wine is made of; and when the explanation was given, Victor and Victorine had to repeat it. It was the same with groceries, furniture, illumination ; but for them light meant the lamp, and it had nothing in common with the spark of a flint, the flame of a candle, the radiance of the moon.
One day Victorine asked, " How is it that wood burns ?" Her masters looked at one another in confusion. The theory of combustion was beyond them.﻿PECUCHET
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Another time Bouvard, from the soup to the cheese, kept talking of nutritious elements, and dazed the two youngsters with fibrine, caseine, fat, and gluten.
After this, Pecuchet desired to explain to them how the blood is renewed, and he got bothered over the question of circulation.
The dilemma is not an easy one; if you start with facts, the simplest requires proofs that are too involved, and by laying down principles first, you commence with the absolute—faith.
How is it to be solved ? By combining the two methods of teaching, the rational and the empirical; but a double means towards a single end is the reverse of method. Ah ! so much the worse, then.
To initiate them in natural history, they tried some scientific excursions.
" You see," said they, pointing towards an ass, a horse, an ox, " beasts with four feet—they are called quadrupeds. As a rule, birds have feathers, reptiles scales, and butterflies belong to the class of insects."
They had a net to catch them with, and Pecuchet, holding the insect up daintily, made them take notice of the four wings, the six claws, the two feelers, and of its bony proboscis, which drinks in the nectar of flowers.
He gathered herbs behind the ditches, mentioned their names, and, when he did not know them, invented them, in order to keep up his prestige.
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Besides, nomenclature is the least important thing in botany.
He wrote this axiom on the blackboard : " Every plant has leaves, a calyx, and a corolla enclosing an ovary or pericarp, which contains the seed." Then he ordered his pupils to go looking for plants through the fields, and to collect the first that came to hand.
Victor brought him buttercups; Victorine a bunch of strawberries. He vainly searched for the pericarp.
Bouvard, who distrusted his own knowledge, rummaged in the library, and discovered in " Le Redoute des Dames " a sketch of an iris in which the ovaries were not situated in the corolla, but beneath the petals in the stem. There were in their garden some scratchweeds and lilies of the valley in flower. These rubiaeciae had no calyx; therefore the principle laid down on the blackboard was false.
" It is an exception," said Pecuchet.
But chance led to the discovery of a field-madder in the grass, and it had a calyx.
" Goodness gracious ! If the exceptions themselves are not true, what are we to put any reliance on ? "
One day, in one of these excursions, they heard the cries of peacocks, glanced over the wall, and at first did not recognise their own farm. The barn had a slate roof; the railings were new ; the pathways had been metalled.﻿PECUCHET
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Pere Gouy made his appearance.
" 'Tisn't possible ! Is it you ? "
How many sad stories he had to tell of the past three years, amongst others the death of his wife! As for himself, he had always been as strong as an oak.
" Come in a minute."
It was early in April, and in the three fruit-gardens rows of apple trees in full blossom showed their white and red clusters ; the sky, which was like blue satin, was perfectly cloudless. Tablecloths, sheets, and napkins hung down, vertically attached to tightly - drawn ropes by wooden pins. Pere Gouy lifted them up as they passed ; and suddenly they came face to face with Madame Bordin, bareheaded, in a dressing - gown, and Marianne offering her armfuls of linen.
"Your servant, gentlemen. Make yourselves at home. As for me, I am going to sit down; I am worn out."
The farmer offered to get some refreshment for the entire party.
" Not now," said she; " I am too hot."
Pecuchet consented, and disappeared into the cellar with Pere Gouy, Marianne and Victor.
Bouvard sat down on the grass beside Madame Bordin.
He received the annual payment punctually ; he had nothing to complain of; and he wished for nothing more.
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The bright sunshine lighted up her profile. One of her black head-bands had got loose, and the little curls behind her neck were stuck to her brown skin, moistened with perspiration. With each breath her breasts heaved. The smell of the grass mingled with the odour of her solid flesh, and Bouvard felt a revival of his attachment, which filled him with joy. Then he complimented her about her property.
She was greatly charmed with it; and she told him about her plans. In order to enlarge the farmyard, she was going to take down the upper bank.
Victorine was at that moment climbing up the slopes, and gathering primroses, hyacinths, and violets, without being afraid of an old horse that was browsing on the grass at her feet.
" Isn't she pretty ? " said Bouvard.
" Yes, she is pretty, for a little girl."
And the widow heaved a sigh, which seemed charged with life-long regret.
"You might have had one yourself."
She hung down her head.
" That depended on you."
"How?"
He gave her such a look that she grew purple, as if at the sensation of a brutish caress ; but, immediately fanning herself with her pocket-handkerchief :
" You have let the opportunity slip, my dear."﻿PECUCHET
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" I don't quite understand." And without rising up he drew closer to her.
She remained looking down at him for some time ; then smiling, with moist eyes :
" It is your fault."
The sheets, hanging around them, hemmed them in, like the curtains of a bed.
He leaned forward his elbow, so that his face rubbed against her knees.
" Why ?—eh ?—why ? "
And as she remained silent, while he was in a condition in which words cost nothing, he tried to justify himself; accused himself of folly, of pride.
" Forgive me. It will be as it was before. Do you wish it ?" And he caught her hand, which she allowed to remain in his.
A sudden gust of wind blew up the sheets, and they saw two peacocks, a male and a female. The female stood motionless, with her hams bent and her croup in the air. The male marched round her, erected his tail into a fan, bridled up, made a clucking noise, then jumped on top of her, lowering his feathers till they covered her like a cradle ; and the two big birds trembled in one convulsive quiver.
Bouvard felt it in the palm of Madame Bordin. She very quickly loosed herself. Before them, open-mouthed and, as it were, petrified, was young Victor staring at them ; a short distance away Victorine, stretched on her back, in the full light of day, was inhaling all the flowers which she had gathered.﻿422
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The old horse, frightened by the peacocks, broke one of the lines with a kick, got his legs entangled in it, and, galloping through the farmyard, dragged the washed linen after him.
At Madame Bordin's wild screams Marianne rushed up. Pere Gouy abused his horse: " Fool of a beast! Old bag of bones ! Infernal thief of a horse ! "—kicked him in the belly, and lashed his ears with the handle of a whip.
Bouvard was shocked at seeing the animal maltreated.
The countryman, in answer to his protest, said :
" I've a right to do it; he's my own."
This was no justification. And Pecuchet, coming on the scene, added that animals too have their rights, for they have souls like ourselves—if indeed ours have any existence.
" You are an impious man! " exclaimed Madame Bordin.
Three things excited her anger: the necessity for beginning the washing over again, the outrage on her faith, and the fear of having just now been seen in a compromising attitude.
" I thought you were more liberal," said Bouvard.
She replied, in a magisterial manner, " I don't like scamps."
And Gouy laid the blame on them for having destroyed his horse, whose nostrils were bleeding. He growled in a smothered voice :﻿PECUCHET
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" Damned unlucky people ! I was going to put him away when they turned up."
The two worthies took themselves off, shrugging their shoulders.
Victor asked them why they had been vexed with Gouy.
" He abuses his strength, which is wrong."
" Why is it wrong ? "
Could it be that the children had no idea of justice ? Perhaps so.
And the same evening, Pecuchet, with Bouvard sitting at his right, and facing the two pupils with some notes in his hand, commenced a course of lectures on morality.
" This science teaches us to exercise control over our actions.
" They have two motives—pleasure and interest, and a third, more imperious—duty.
" Duties are divided into two classes: firstly, duties towards ourselves, which consist in taking care of our bodies, protecting ourselves against all injury." (They understood this perfectly.) "Secondly, duties towards others ; that is to say, to be always loyal, good-natured, and even fraternal, the human race being only one single family. A thing often pleases us which is injurious to our fellows; interest is a different thing from good, for good is in itself irreducible." (The children did not comprehend.) He put off the sanction of duties until the next occasion.﻿BOUVARD AND
In the entire lecture, according to Bouvard, he had not defined " good."
" What do you want to define it for ? We feel
it."
So then the lessons of morality would only suit moral people—and Pecuchet's course did not go further.
They made their pupils read little tales tending to inspire them with the love of virtue. They plagued Victor to death.
In order to strike his imagination, Pecuchet suspended from the walls of his apartment representations of the lives of the good person and the bad person respectively. The first, Adolphe, embraced his mother, studied German, assisted a blind man, and was admitted into the Polytechnic School. The bad person, Eugene, began by disobeying his father, had a quarrel in a cafe, beat his wife, fell down dead-drunk, smashed a cupboard— and a final picture represented him in jail, where a gentleman, accompanied by a young lad, pointed him out, saying, " You see, my son, the dangers of misconduct."
But for the children, the future had no existence. In vain were their minds saturated with the maxim that "work is honourable," and that "the rich are sometimes unhappy." They had known workmen in no way honoured, and had recollections of the chateau, where life seemed good. The pangs of remorse were depicted for them with so much ex-﻿PECUCHET
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aggeration that they smelled humbug, and after that became distrustful. Attempts were then made to govern their conduct by a sense of honour, the idea of public opinion, and the sentiment of glory by holding up to their admiration great men; above all, men who made themselves useful, like Belzunce, Franklin, and Jacquard. Victor did not display any longing to resemble them.
One day, when he had done a sum in addition without a mistake, Bouvard sewed to his vest a ribbon to symbolise the Cross. He strutted about with it; but, when he forgot about the death of Henry IV., Pecuchet put an ass's cap on his head. Victor commenced braying with so much violence and for such a long time, that it was found necessary to take off his pasteboard ears.
Like him, his sister showed herself vain of praise, and indifferent to blame.
In order to make them more sensitive, a black cat was given to them, that they might take care of it; and two or three coppers were presented to them, so that they might bestow alms. They thought the claim unjust; this money belonged to them.
In compliance with the wish of the pedagogues, they called Bouvard " my uncle," and Pecuchet "good friend;" but they "thee'd" and "thou'd" them, and half the lessons were usually lost in disputes.
Victorine ill-treated Marcel, mounted on his﻿426
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back, dragged him by the hair. In order to make game of his hare-lip she spoke through her nose like him; and the poor fellow did not venture to complain, so fond was he of the little girl. One evening his hoarse voice was unusually raised. Bouvard and Pecuchet went down to the kitchen. The two pupils were staring at the chimneypiece, and Marcel, with clasped hands, was crying out:
" Take him away ! It's too much—it's too much !"
The lid of the pot flew off like the bursting of a shell. A greyish mass bounded towards the ceiling, then wriggled about frantically, emitting fearful howls.
They recognised the cat, quite emaciated, with its hair gone, its tail like a piece of string, and its dilated eyes starting out of its head. They were as white as milk, vacant, so to speak, and yet glaring.
The hideous animal continued its howling till it flung itself into the fireplace, disappeared, then rolled back in the middle of the cinders lifeless.
It was Victor who had perpetrated this atrocity; and the two worthy men recoiled, pale with stupefaction and horror. To the reproaches which they addressed to him, he replied, as the keeper had done with reference to his son and the farmer with reference to his horse : " Well! since it's my own," without ceremony and with an air of innocence, in the placidity of a satiated instinct.﻿PECUCHET
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The boiling water from the pot was scattered over the ground, and saucepans, tongs, and candlesticks lay everywhere thrown about.
Marcel was some time cleaning up the kitchen, and his masters and he buried the poor cat in the garden under the pagoda.
After this Bouvard and Pecuchet had a long chat about Victor. The paternal blood was showing itself. What were they to do ? To give him back to M. de Fa verges or to entrust him to others would be an admission of impotence. Perhaps he might reform.
No matter! It was a doubtful hope; and they no longer felt any tenderness towards him. What a pleasure it would have been, however, to have had near you a youth interested in your ideas, whose progress you could watch, who would by and by become a brother to you! But Victor lacked intellect, and heart still more. And Pecuchet sighed, with his hands clasped over his bent knee.
" The sister is not much better," said Bouvard.
He pictured to himself a girl of nearly fifteen years, with a refined nature, a playful humour, adorning the house with the elegant tastes of a young lady; and, as though he had been her father and she had just died, the poor man began to weep.
Then, seeking out an excuse for Victor, he quoted Rousseau's opinion : " The child has no responsibility, and cannot be moral or immoral."﻿428
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Pecuchet's view was that " these children" had reached the age of discretion, and that they should study some method whereby they could be corrected. Bentham lays down that a punishment, in order to be effectual, should be in proportion to the offence —its natural consequence. The child has broken a pane of glass—a new one will not be put in : let him suffer from cold. If, not being hungry any longer, he asks to be served again, give way to him : a fit of indigestion will quickly make him repent. Suppose he is lazy—let him remain without work: boredom of itself will make him go back to it.
But Victor would not endure cold; his constitution could stand excesses; and doing nothing would agree with him.
They adopted the reverse system : medicinal punishment. Impositions were given to him; he only became more idle. They deprived him of sweet things; his greediness for them redoubled. Perhaps irony might have success with him ? On one occasion, when he came to breakfast with dirty hands, Bouvard jeered at him, calling him a " gay cavalier," a " dandy," " yellow gloves." Victor listened with lowering brow, suddenly turned pale, and flung his plate at Bouvard's head ; then, wild at having missed him, made a rush at him. It took three men to hold him. He rolled himself on the ground, trying to bite. Pecuchet, at some distance, sprinkled water over﻿PECUCHET
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him out of a carafe: he immediately calmed down ; but for two days he was hoarse. The method had not proved a good one.
They adopted another. At the least symptom of anger, treating him as if he were sick, they put him to bed. Victor was quite well there, and showed it by singing.
One day he took out of its place in the library an old cocoa-nut, and was beginning to split it open, when Pecuchet came up :
"My cocoa-nut!"
It was a memento of Dumouchel ! He had brought it from Paris to Chavignolles. He raised his arms in indignation. Victor burst out laughing. " Good friend " could not stand it any longer, and with one good box sent him rolling to the end of the room, then, quivering with emotion, went to complain to Bouvard.
Bouvard rebuked him.
" Are you crazy with your cocoa-nut ? Blows only brutalise ; terror enervates. You are disgracing yourself! "
Pecuchet returned that corporal chastisements were sometimes indispensable. Pestalozzi made use of them ; and the celebrated Melancthon confesses that without them he would have learned nothing.
His friend observed that cruel punishments, on the other hand, had driven children to suicide. He had in his reading found examples of it.
Victor had barricaded himself in his room.﻿43°
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Bouvard parleyed with him outside the door, and, to make him open it, promised him a plum tart.
From that time he grew worse.
There remained a method extolled by Monseigneur Dupanloup: "the severe look." They tried to impress on their countenances a dreadful expression, and they produced no effect.
" We have no longer any resource but to try religion."
Pecuchet protested. They had banished it from their programme.
But reasoning does not satisfy every want. The heart and the imagination desire something else. The supernatural is for many souls indispensable. So they resolved to send the children to catechism.
Reine offered to conduct them there. She again came to the house, and knew how to make herself liked by her caressing ways.
Victorine suddenly changed, became shy, honey-tongued, knelt down before the Madonna, admired the sacrifice of Abraham, and sneered disdainfully at the name of Protestant.
She stated that fasting had been enjoined upon her. They made inquiries: it was not true. On the feast of Corpus Christi some damask violets disappeared from one of the plat-bands to decorate the processional altar : she impudently denied having cut them. At another time she took from Bouvard twenty sous, which she placed at vesper-time in the sacristan's collecting-plate.﻿PECUCHET
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They drew from this the conclusion that morality is distinguishable from religion; when it has not another basis, its importance is secondary.
One evening, while they were dining, M. Marescot entered. Victor fled immediately.
The notary, having declined to sit down, told what had brought him there.
Young Touache had beaten—all but killed—his son. As Victor's origin was known, and as he was unpopular, the other brats called him " Convict," and not long since he had given Master Arnold Marescot a drubbing, which was an insult. "Dear Arnold " bore the marks of it on his body.
" His mother is in despair, his clothes in rags, his health imperilled. What are we coming to ? "
The notary insisted on severe chastisement, and, amongst other things, on Victor being henceforth kept away from catechism, to prevent fresh collisions.
Bouvard and Pecuchet, although wounded by his haughty tone, promised everything he wished— caved in.
Had Victor obeyed a sentiment of honour or of revenge ? In any case, he was no coward.
But his brutality frightened them. Music softens manners. Pecuchet conceived the notion of teaching him the solfeggio.
Victor had much difficulty in reading the notes readily and not confounding the terms " adagio," " presto," and " sforzando." His master strove to explain to him the gamut, perfect harmony, the﻿432
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diatonic, the chromatic, and the two kinds of intervals called major and minor.
He made him stand up straight, with his chest advanced, his shoulders thrown back, his mouth wide open, and, in order to teach by example, gave out intonations in a voice that was out of tune. Victor's voice came forth painfully from his larynx, so contracted was it. When the bar began with a crotchet rest, he started either too soon or too late.
Nevertheless Pecuchet took up an air in two parts. He used a rod as a substitute for a fiddlestick, and moved his arm like a conductor, as though he had behind him an orchestra ; but, engaged as he was in two tasks, he sometimes made a mistake; his blunder led to others on the part of the pupil; and, knitting their brows, straining the muscles of their necks, they went on at random down to the end of the page.
At length Pecuchet said to Victor:
" You're not likely to shine in a choral society."
And he abandoned the teaching of music.
Besides, perhaps Locke is right: " It is associated with so much profligate company that it is better to occupy oneself with something else."
Without desiring to make an author of him, it would be convenient for Victor to know how to despatch a letter. A reflection stopped them : the epistolary style cannot be acquired, for it belongs exclusively to women.
They next thought of cramming his memory﻿PECUCHET
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with literary fragments, and, perplexed about making selections, consulted Madame Campan's work. She recommends the scene of Eliakim, the choruses in " Esther," and the entire works of Jean Baptiste Rousseau.
These are a little old-fashioned. As for romances, she prohibits them, as depicting the world under too favourable colours. However, she permits "Clarissa Harlowe" and "The Father of a Family," by Miss Opie.1 Who is this Miss Opie ?
They did not find her name in the "Biographie" of Michaud.
There remained fairy tales. " They would be expecting palaces of diamonds," said Pecuchet. Literature develops the intellect, but excites the passions.
Victorine was sent away from catechism on account of her conduct. She had been caught kissing the notary's son, and Reine made no joke of it: her face looked grave under her cap with its big frills.
After such a scandal, why keep a young girl so corrupted ?
Bouvard and Pecuchet called the cure an old fool. His housekeeper defended him, muttering:
" We know you !—we know you ! "
They made a sharp rejoinder, and she went off rolling her eyes in a fearful manner.
1 This is possibly a reference to that once celebrated specimen of English didactic fiction, "Fathers and Daughters," by Mrs. Amelia Opie.—Translator.
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Victorine was, in fact, smitten with a fancy for Arnold, so nice did she think him with his embroidered collar, his velvet vest, and his well-scented hair ; and she had been bringing bouquets to him up to the time when Zephyrin told on her.
What foolery was exhibited about this adventure, the two children being perfectly innocent!
Was it necessary to teach them the mystery of generation ?
" I don't see any harm in it," said Bouvard. The philosopher Basedow explained it to his pupils, not going however into details, save as to pregnancy and birth.
Pecuchet took a different view. Victor was beginning to cause him uneasiness. He suspected him of being addicted to a bad habit. Why not ? Sedate men have clung to it all their lives, and it is alleged that the Duke of Angouleme gave himself up to it.
He questioned his disciple in such a fashion that he sharpened the youth's perceptions, and a short time afterwards he was left free from doubt on the subject.
Then he called him a criminal, and wished, as a course of treatment, to make him read Tissot.
This masterpiece, according to Bouvard, was pernicious rather than useful. It would be far better to inspire him with a poetic sensibility. Aime Martin relates how a mother, in a similar case, lent the " Nouvelle H61oi'se " to her son, and in order﻿PECUCHET
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that he might render himself worthy of love, the young man dashed into the path of virtue.
But Victor was incapable Of longing for a Sophie.
" Ought we not rather bring him to the ladies ? "
Pecuchet expressed his horror of women of the town.
Bouvard considered him a fool, and even spoke of taking a trip expressly to Havre.
" Are you thinking of that ? They would see us going in."
" Well, buy him an apparatus."
" But a truss-maker would perhaps imagine that it was for me," said Pecuchet.
He would have required a stirring amusement like hunting; this would lead to the expense of a gun, of a dog. They thought it better to fatigue him, and went in for coursing in the fields.
The young fellow escaped from them, although they relieved one another. They could do nothing more; and in the evening they had not the strength to hold up the newspaper.
Whilst they were waiting for Victor they talked to the passers-by, and through the sheer necessity of playing the pedagogue, they tried to teach them hygiene, deplored the injuries from floods and the waste of manures, thundered against such superstitions as leaving the skeleton of a blackbird in a barn, putting consecrated wood at the end of a stable and a bag of worms on the big toes of people suffering from fever.
28—2﻿436	BOUVARD AND
They next took to inspecting wet nurses, and were incensed at their management of babies : some soaked them in gruel, causing them to die of exhaustion ; others stuffed them with meat before they were six months old, and so they fell victims to indigestion; several cleaned them with their own spittle; all managed them barbarously.
When they saw over a door an owl that had been crucified, they went into the farmhouse and said :
" You are wrong; these animals live on rats and field-mice. There has been found in a screech-owl's stomach a quantity of caterpillars' larvae."
The country-folk knew them from having seen them, in the first place, as physicians, then searching for old furniture, and afterwards looking for stones ; and they replied :
" Come, now, you pair of play-actors! don't try to teach us."
Their conviction was shaken, for the sparrows cleanse the kitchen-gardens, but eat up the cherries. The owls devour insects, and at the same time bats, which are useful; and, if the moles eat the slugs, they upset the soil. There was one thing of which they were certain : that all game should be destroyed as fatal to agriculture.
One evening, as they were passing along by the wood of Faverges, they found themselves in front of Sorel's house, at the side of the road. He was gesticulating in the presence of three individuals.﻿PECUCHET
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The first was a certain Dauphin, a cobbler, small, thin, and with a sly expression of countenance; the second, Pere Aubain, a village porter, wore an old yellow frock-coat, with a pair of coarse blue linen pantaloons; the third, Eugene, a man-servant employed by M. Marescot, was distinguished by his beard cut like that of a magistrate.
Sorel was showing them a noose in copper wire attached to a silk thread, which was held by a clamp—what is called a snare—and he had discovered the cobbler in the act of setting it.
" You are witnesses, are you not ? "
Eugene lowered his chin by way of assent, and Pere Aubain replied :
" Once you say so."
What enraged Sorel was the audacity of having set up a snare at the entrance of his lodge, the rascal imagining that one would have no idea of suspecting it in such a place.
Dauphin adopted the blubbering system:
" I was walking over it; I even tried to break it." They were always accusing him. They had a grudge against him; he was most unlucky.
Sorel, without answering him, had drawn out of his pocket a note-book and a pen and ink, in order to make out an official report.
" Oh, no ! " said Pecuchet.
Bouvard added : " Let him go. He is a decent fellow."
" He—a poacher ! "﻿438
BOUVARD AND
" Well, when such things will be ? "
And they proceeded to defend poaching: " We know, to start with, that the rabbits nibble at the young sprouts, and that the hares destroy the corn crops—except, perhaps, the woodcock-"
" Let me alone, now." And the gamekeeper went on writing with clenched teeth.
" What obstinacy! " murmured Bouvard.
" Another word, and I will send for the gendarmes ! "
" You are an ill-mannered fellow ! " said Pecu-chet.
"You are no great things!" retorted Sorel.
Bouvard, forgetting himself, referred to him as a blockhead, a bully; and Eugene kept repeating, " Peace ! peace ! let us respect the law " ; while Pere Aubain was groaning three paces away from them on a heap of pebbles.
Disturbed by these voices, all the dogs of the pack rushed out of their kennels. Through the railings could be seen their black snouts, and, rushing hither and thither, they kept barking dreadfully.
" Don't plague me further," cried their master, "or I'll make them go for your breeches!"
The two friends departed, satisfied, however, with having upheld progress and civilisation.
Next day a summons was served on them to appear at the police court for offering insults to the gamekeeper, and to pay a hundred francs compensation, " reserving an appeal to the public ad-﻿pecuchet
439
ministration, having regard to the contraventions committed by them. Costs: 6 francs 75 centimes. —Tiercelin, Summoner."
Wherefore a public administration ? Their heads got giddy ; then, becoming calm, they set about preparing their defence.
On the day named, Bouvard and Pecuchet repaired to the court-house an hour too early. No one there; chairs and three cushioned seats surrounded an oval table covered with a cloth; a niche had been made in the wall for the purpose of placing a stove there ; and the Emperor's bust, which was on a pedestal, overlooked the scene.
They strolled up to the top room of the building, where there was a fire-engine, a number of flags, and in a corner, on the ground, other plaster busts—the great Napoleon without a diadem ; Louis XVIII. with epaulets on a dress-coat; Charles X., recognisable by his hanging lip; Louis Philippe, with arched eyebrows and hair dressed in pyramid fashion, the slope of the roof grazing the nape of his neck; and all these objects were befouled by flies and dust. This spectacle had a demoralising effect on Bouvard and Pecuchet. Governing powers excited their pity as they made their way back to the main hall.
There they found Sorel and the field-keeper, the one wearing his badge on his arm, and the other his military cap.
A dozen persons were talking, having been sum-﻿44°
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moned for not having swept their house fronts, or for having let their dogs go at large, or neglected to attach lanterns to their carts, or kept a public-house open during mass-time.
At length Coulon presented himself, wrapt in a robe of black serge and wearing a round cap with velvet edgings. His clerk sat down at his left, the mayor, scarfed, at his right ; and shortly afterwards the case of Sorel against Bouvard and Pecu-chet was called.
Louis - Martial - Eugene Lenepveur, valet at Chavignolles (Calvados), availed himself of his position as a witness to unburden himself of all he knew about a heap of things which were foreign to the issue.
Nicolas-Juste Aubain, day-labourer, was afraid both of displeasing Sorel and of injuring " these gentlemen." He had heard abusive words, and yet he had his doubts about it. He pleaded that he was deaf.
The justice of the peace made him sit down; then, addressing himself to the gamekeeper: " Do you persist in your declarations ? "
" Certainly."
Coulon then asked the two defendants what they had to say.
Bouvard maintained that he had not insulted Sorel, but in taking the poacher's part had vindicated the rights of the peasantry. He recalled the abuses of feudal times and the ruinous huntings of the nobles.﻿PECUCHET	44I
" No matter ! The contravention-"
" Allow me to stop you," exclaimed Pecuchet.
The words " contravention," " crime," and " delict" were of no value. To seek in this way to class punishable acts was to take an arbitrary basis. As much as to say to citizens : " Don't bother yourself as to the value of your actions; that is determined by the punishment inflicted by authority." However, the penal code appeared to him an absurd production devoid of principles.
" That may be," replied Coulon; and he proceeded to pronounce his judgment.
But here Foureau, who represented the public administration, rose up. They had outraged the gamekeeper in the exercise of his functions. If no regard were shown for propriety, everything would be destroyed.
" In short, may it please M. the Justice of the Peace to apply the maximum penalty."
This was ten francs, in the form of damages to Sorel.
" Bravo ! " exclaimed Bouvard.
Coulon had not finished.
" Impose on them, in addition, a fine of five francs for having been guilty of the contravention mentioned by the public administration."
Pecuchet turned round to the audience:
"The fine is a trifle to the rich man, but a disaster to the poor man. As for me, it matters nothing to me."﻿442
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And he presented the appearance of defying the court.
" Really," said Coulon, " I am astonished that
people of intelligence-"
"The law dispenses you from the possession of it," retorted Pecuchet. " The justice of the peace occupies his post indefinitely, while the judge of the supreme court is reputed capable up to seventy-five years, and the judge of first instance is no longer so at seventy."
But, at a gesture from Foureau, Placquevent advanced.
They protested.
" Ah ! if you were appointed by competition ! " " Or by the General Council! " "Or a committee of experts, and according to a proper list! "
Placquevent moved them on, and they went out while the other defendants' names were being called, believing that they had made a good show in the course of these vile proceedings.
To give vent to their indignation they went that evening to Beljambe's hostelry. His cafe was empty, the principal customers being in the habit of leaving about ten o'clock. The lamp had been lowered ; the walls and the counter seemed shrouded in a fog. A female attendant came on the scene. It was Melie. She did not appear agitated, and, smiling, she poured them out two bocks. Pecuchet, ill at ease, quickly left the establishment.﻿PECUCHET
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Bouvard came back there alone, entertained some of the villagers with sarcasms at the mayor's expense, and after that went into the smoking-room.
Six months later Dauphin was acquitted for want of evidence. What a shame ! These very witnesses who had been believed when testifying against them were now regarded with suspicion. And their anger knew no bounds when the registry give them notice to pay up the fine. Bouvard attacked the registry as injurious to property.
" You are mistaken," said the collector. " Why, it bears a third of the public expenditure!"
" I would have proceedings with regard to taxes less vexatious, a better system of land registration, alterations in the law as to mortgages, and would abolish the Bank of France, which has the privilege of usury."
Girbal, not being strong on the subject, let the argument fall to the ground, and going off did not again make his appearance. However, Bouvard made himself agreeable to the innkeeper; he would attract a crowd around him; and, while he was waiting for the guests, he chatted familiarly with the barmaid.
He gave utterance to odd ideas on primary education. On leaving school pupils ought to be capable of nursing the sick, understanding scientific discoveries, and taking an interests in the arts. The requirements of his programme made him fall﻿444
BOUVARD AND
out with Petit; and he offended the captain by maintaining that soldiers, instead of losing their time with drilling, would be better occupied in growing vegetables.
When the question of free trade turned up he brought Pecuchet along with him, and the whole winter there were in the cafe angry looks, contemptuous attitudes, insults and vociferations, with blows of fists on the table that made the beer-glasses jump.
Langlois and the other merchants defended national commerce; Oudot, owner of a spinning factory, and Mathieu, a goldsmith, national industry; the landowners and the farmers, national agriculture : everyone claiming privileges for himself to the detriment of the public at large.
The observations of Bouvard and Pecuchet had an alarming effect.
As they were accused of ignoring the practical side of life, of having a tendency towards levelling, and of immorality, they developed these three ideas: to replace the family name by a registered number ; to arrange the French people in a hierarchy, and so that, to preserve his grade, it would be necessary for one to submit from time to time to an examination; no more punishments, no more rewards, but in every village an individual chronicle which would pass on to posterity.
Their system was treated with disdain. They Avrote an article about it for the Bayeux daily﻿PECUCHET
445
paper, drew up a note to the prefect, a petition to the Chambers, and a memorial to the Emperor.
The newspaper did not publish their article.
The prefect did not condescend to reply.
The Chambers were silent; and they waited a long time for a communication from the Tuileries.
What then was the Emperor occupying his time with ?
With women, no doubt.
Foureau, on the part of the sub-prefect, suggested the desirability of more reserve.
They laughed at the sub-prefect, the prefect, the councillors of the prefecture, even the council of state. Administrative justice was a monstrosity, for the administration by means of favours and threats unjustly controls its functionaries. In short, they came to be regarded as a nuisance, and the leading men of the place gave injunctions to Beljambe not to entertain two such fellows.
At this period, Bouvard and Pecuchet were burning to signalise themselves by a work which would dazzle their neighbours ; and they saw nothing better than plans for the embellishment of Chavignolles.
Three-fourths of the houses would be demolished. They would construct in the centre of the village a monumental square, on the way to Falaise a hospital, slaughter-houses on the way to Caen, and at the " Cows' Pass" a Roman church of many colours.
Pecuchet manufactured a colouring mixture with﻿446
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Indian ink, and did not forget in preparing his plans to give a yellow tint to the woods, a red to the buildings, and a green to the meadows, for the pictures of an ideal Chavignolles pursued him in his day-dreams, and he came back to them as he lay on his mattress.
Bouvard was awakened by him one night.
" Are you unwell ? "
Pecuchet stammered, " Haussmann prevents me from going to sleep."
About this time he received a letter from Du-mouchel to know the cost of sea-baths on the Norman coast.
" Let him go about his business with his baths ! Have we any time to write ? "
And, when they had procured a land-surveyor's chain, a semicircle, a water-level, and a compass, they began at other studies.
They encroached on people's properties. The inhabitants were frequently surprised to see the pair of them fixing stakes for surveying purposes in the ground. Bouvard and Pecuchet announced their plans, and what would be the outcome of them, with the utmost self-complacency. The people became uneasy, for, perchance, authority might at length fall in with these men's views! Sometimes they rudely drove them off.
Victor scaled the walls and crept up to the roof to hang up signals there; he exhibited good-will, and even a degree of enthusiasm.﻿PECUCHET
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They were also better satisfied with Victorine.
When she was making up the linen she hummed in a sweet voice as she moved her smoothing-iron over the board, interested herself in looking after the household, and made a cap for Bouvard, with a well-pointed peak that won compliments for her from Romiche.
This man was one of those tailors who go about mending clothes in farmhouses. He was taken into the house for a fortnight.
Hunchbacked, with bloodshot eyes, he made up for his bodily defects by a facetious disposition. While the masters were out, he used to amuse Marcel and Victorine by telling them funny stories. He would put out his tongue as far as his chin, imitate the cuckoo, or give exhibitions of ventriloquism ; and at night, saving the cost of an inn, he went to sleep in the bakehouse.
Now, one morning, at a very early hour, Bouvard, being cold, happened to go there to get chips to light his fire.
What he saw petrified him. Behind the remains of the chest, upon a straw mattress, Romiche and Victorine lay asleep together.
He had passed his arm around her waist, and his other hand, long as that of an ape, clutched one of her knees, while his eyelids quivered and his features were convulsed in a spasm of gratified passion. She was smiling, stretched on her back. The, openings of her chemise left exposed her﻿448
BOUVARD AND
girlish throat, marbled with red spots by the kisses of the hunchback. Her fair hair hung loose, and the whiteness of the dawn threw its pale light upon the pair.
Bouvard for a moment felt as if he had received a blow in the chest; then a sense of shame prevented him from making a single movement. He was oppressed by painful reflections.
" So young ! Lost! lost! " He then went to awaken Pecuchet, and briefly told him everything.
"Ah! the wretch! "
" We cannot help it. Be calm!" And for some time they remained sighing, one after the other—Bouvard, with his coat off and his arms folded; Pecuchet, at the side of his bed, sitting barefooted in a cotton nightcap.
Romiche should leave that very day, when his work was finished. They would pay him in a haughty fashion, and in silence.
But Providence had some spite against them.
Marcel, a short time afterwards, led them to Victor's room and showed them at the bottom of his chest of drawers a twenty-franc piece. The youngster had asked him to get the change of it.
Where did it come from ? No doubt it was got by a theft committed while they were going about as engineers. But in order to restore it they would require to know the person; and if someone came to claim it they would look like accomplices.
At length, having sent for Victor, they ordered﻿PECUCHET
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him to open his drawer: the napoleon was no longer there. He pretended not to understand. A short time before, however, they had seen it, this very coin, and Marcel was incapable of lying. This affair had revolutionised Pecuchet so much that he had, since morning, kept in his pocket a letter for Bouvard:
"Sir,—Fearing lest M. Pecuchet may be ill, I
have recourse to your kindness-"
" Whose is the signature, then ? " " Olympe Dumouchel, nee Charpeau." She and her husband were anxious to know in which bathing-place—Courseulles, Langrune, or Lucques—the best society was to be found, which was least noisy, and as to the means of transport, the cost of washing, etc.
This importunity made them angry with Dumouchel ; then weariness plunged them into deeper despondency.
They went over all the pains that they had taken—so many lessons, precautions, torments!
" And to think that we wanted at one time to make her a teacher, and him an overseer of works! " " Ah! how deceived we were in her! " "If she is vicious, it is not the fault of the lessons that she got."
" For my part, to make her virtuous, I would have learned Cartouche's biography."
" Perhaps they needed family life—the care of a mother ? "
29﻿45°
BOUVARD AND
" I was like one to them," protested Bouvard.
"Alas! " replied Pecuchet. " But there are natures bereft of moral sense ; and education in that case can do nothing."
" Ah! yes, 'tis a fine thing, education ! "
As the orphans had not learned any trade, they would seek two situations for them as servants; and then, with the help of God, they would have nothing more to do with them.
And henceforth " My uncle " and "Good friend " made them take their meals in the kitchen.
But soon they grew restless, their minds feeling the need of work, their existence of an aim.
Besides, what does one failure prove ? What had proved abortive in the case of children might be more successful with men. And they conceived the idea of preparing a course of lectures for adults.
In order to explain their views, a conference would be necessary. The great hall of the inn would be perfectly suitable for this purpose.
Beljambe, as deputy mayor, was afraid to compromise himself, refused at first, then, thinking that he might make something out of it, changed his mind, and sent wTord to that effect by his servant-girl.
Bouvard, in the excess of his joy, kissed her on both cheeks.
The mayor was absent. The other deputy, M. Marescot, entirely taken up with his office, would pay little attention to the conference. So it was to﻿PECUCHET
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take place; and, to the beating of the drum, the hour was announced as three o'clock on the following Sunday.
It was only on the day before that they thought about their costume. Pecuchet, thank Heaven, had preserved an old ceremonial coat with a velvet collar, two white ties, and black gloves. Bouvard put on his blue frock-coat, a nankeen waistcoat and beaver shoes; and they were strongly moved when they had passed through the village and arrived at the hostelry of the Golden Cross.
[Here Gustave Flaubert's manuscript breaks off.]﻿[Extract from a plan found amongst Gustave Flaubert's papers indicating the conclusion of the work.]
CONFERENCE.
The inn of the Golden Cross—two wooden galleries at the sides on the first floor, with projecting balcony; main building at the bottom; cafe on the ground floor, dining-room, billiard-room; the doors and the windows are open.
Crowd: people of rank, ordinary folk.
Bouvard : " The first thing to do is to demonstrate the utility of our project; our studies entitle us to pronounce an opinion."
Discourse by Pecuchet of a pedantic description.
Follies of the government and of the administration. Too much taxation. Two economies to be practised: the suppression of the religious and the military budget.
He is accused of atheism.
" Quite the contrary; but there is need of a religious renovation."
Foureau appears on the scene, and insists on dissolving the meeting.﻿BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
453
Bouvard excites a laugh at the mayor's expense by recalling his idiotic bounties for owls. Objection to this.
" If it is necessary to destroy animals that injure plants, it would likewise be necessary to destroy the cattle who devour the grass."
Foureau withdraws.
Discourse by Bouvard—in a familiar style.
Prejudices: celibacy of priests, futility of adultery, emancipation of woman.
" Her ear-rings are the symbol of her former servitude."
Studs of men.
Bouvard and Pecuchet are reproached with the misconduct of their pupils. Also, why did they adopt the children of a convict ?
Theory of rehabilitation. They would dine with Touache.
Foureau, having returned, reads, with a view to having revenge on Bouvard, a petition from him to the municipal council, in which he asks for the establishment of a brothel at Chavignolles. (Contemptible arguments.)
The meeting is brought to a close amid the utmost confusion.
On their return to their own residence, Bouvard and Pecuchet perceive Foureau's servant-man galloping along the road from Falaise at full speed.﻿454
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They go to bed, quite jaded, without suspecting how many plots are fermenting against them.—Explain the motives for ill-will towards them actuating the cure, the physician, the mayor, Marescot, the people, everybody.
Next day, at breakfast, they talk about the conference.
Pecuchet sees the future of humanity in dark colours.
The modern man is lessened, and has become a machine.
Final anarchy of the human race. (Buchner, I., II.)
Impossibility of peace. (Id.) Savagery traceable to the excess of individualism and the frenzy of science.
Three hypotheses—first : pantheistic radicalism will break every tie with the past, and an inhuman despotism will result; second: if theistic absolutism triumphs, the liberalism with which humanity has been penetrated since the era of reform succumbs —all is thrown back ; third : if the convulsions which have been going on since '89 continue, without an end between the two issues, these oscillations will carry us away by their own force. There will be no longer ideal, religion, morality.
America will have conquered the earth.
Future of literature.
Universal greed. There will be no longer anything but a debauch of workmen.﻿PECUCHET
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End of the world through the cessation of caloric.
Bouvard sees the future of humanity in a bright light. The modern man is progressive.
Europe will be regenerated by Asia. The historic law that civilisation travels from East to West—the part to be played by- China—the two humanities will at length be fused.
Future inventions: modes of travelling. Balloons. Submarine barges with glass windows, in an unchanging calm, the sea's agitation being only on the surface. Passing travellers shall see the fishes and the landscapes in the ocean's depths. Animals tamed. All forms of cultivation.
Future of literature (opposite of industrial literature). Future sciences.—How to regulate the force of magnetism.
Paris will become a winter - garden; fruit will be grown on the boulevards; the Seine filtered and heated; abundance of precious stones artificially made; prodigality as to gilding; lighting of houses —light will be stored up, for there are bodies which possess this property, such as sugar, the flesh of certain molluscs, and the phosphorus of Bologna. People will be bound to cover over the fronts of the houses with a phosphorescent substance, and the radiations from them will illuminate the streets.
Disappearance of evil by the disappearance of want. Philosophy will be a religion.
Communion of all peoples. Public fetes.﻿456
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People will travel to the heavenly bodies; and when the earth is used up, humanity will set up housekeeping in the stars.
He has hardly finished when the gendarmes make their appearance. Entry of the gendarmes.
At the sight of them the children are terror-stricken, owing to vague recollections.
Marcel's desolation.
Anxiety on the part of Bouvard and Pecuchet. Do they want to arrest Victor ?
The gendarmes exhibit an order to take them into custody.
It is the conference that brought it on. They are accused of having made attempts on religion, on order, having roused people to revolt, etc.
Sudden arrival of M. and Madame Dumouchel with their baggage; they have come to take sea-baths. Dumouchel is not changed; Madame wears spectacles and composes fables. Their perplexity.
The mayor, knowing that the gendarmes are with Bouvard and Pecuchet, arrives, encouraged by their presence.
Gorju, seeing that authority and public opinion are against them, has thought of profiting by it, and escorts Foureau. Assuming Bouvard to be the richer of the pair, he accuses him of having formerly debauched Melie.
" I ? Never ! "
And Pecuchet begins to tremble.﻿PECUCHET
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" And even having given her disease."
Bouvard breaks into a loud exclamation.
" Let him at least make allowance for the child that's going to be born, for she is pregnant."
This second accusation is based on the liberties taken with her by Bouvard at the cafe.
The public gradually overrun the house.
• Barberou, called into the country by a matter connected with his own business, has just learned at the inn what is going on, and comes on the scene.
He believes Bouvard to be guilty, takes him aside, and makes him promise to yield and give the allowance.
Next comes the doctor, the count, Reine, Madame Bordin, Madame Marescot, under her umbrella, and other persons of rank.
The village brats, outside the railing, scream out and fling stones into the garden. (It is now well kept, and this makes the inhabitants jealous.)
Foureau wants to drag Bouvard and Pecuchet to prison.
Barberou interposes, and Marescot, the doctor, and the count likewise interpose with insolent pity.
Explain the order for the arrest. The sub-prefect, on receiving Foureau's letter, has despatched an order to take them into custody, in order to frighten them, together with a letter to Marescot and Faverges, saying that they might be let alone if they exhibited repentance.
Vaucorbeil seeks likewise to defend them.
30﻿45B	BOUVARD AND PECUCHET
" 'Tis rather to a madhouse that they ought to be sent; they are lunatics. I'll write to the prefect."
Everything is settled. Bouvard will make an allowance for Melie.
The custody of the children cannot be left to them. They refuse to give them up ; but as they have not adopted the orphans according to the forms of law, the mayor takes them back.
They display a revolting insensibility. Bouvard and Pecuchet shed tears at it.
M. and Madame Dumouchel go away.
So everything has gone to pieces in their hands.
They no longer have any interest in life.
A good idea cherished secretly by each of them. They conceal it from one another. From time to time they smile when it comes into their heads; then at last communicate it to one another :
To copy as in former times.
Designing of a bureau with a double desk. (For this purpose they seek the services of a joiner. Gorju, who has heard about their invention, proposes to make it. Recall the trunk incident.)
Purchase of books, writing materials, sandaracs, erasers, etc.
They sit down to write.
THE END
H. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿