Oh! this reckoning. I had made it so often, anxious to ascertain what I loved, and what I was worth. I generally congratulated myself on the fact that an equal balance was maintained between the desires and pleasures. Why did everything taste so flat to-day, I thought. What beauty is incarnate to me? What virtue worthy of existence? What was I good for? Might I not have been eliminated without loss to others or even to myself?
This impression did not last long. I smiled. What was I worrying about? To proclaim oneself happy was to be happy. I could do it. I was never anything but an object of envy. A doubt crossed my mind, however. Certain moralists, I thought, consider life bearable only when supported by some passion. I only know of two: Love? With all her train of folly and suffering. Her victims are spoken of more than all else. Real good fortune to be emancipated from it. Ambition? Is not this insatiable by its very nature? There are so few chief parts, and all great destinies go hand-in-hand with an assurance which I lacked ... and then, did I not appreciate the highest pinnacle of fortune at its paltry worth! Did not true wisdom lie in admitting that one is nothing but a man lost in the mass of men, to order one's life so as to glide in peace through this indifferent term, lacking a morrow; without cherishing a thousand longings above one's state, or naïvely spurring oneself to sterile enthusiasms?
I pondered over these familiar reflections for my comfort. To my surprise the shadow of melancholy which had hovered over my head did not dissipate so easily. I had difficulty in picturing to myself without bitterness and fatigue my life to come, similar to millions of others, void of deep sorrows as of sublime joys, this dreary life which in ten years or in forty would end in solitude, sickness, and suffering, in the clutches of that cursed enemy, Boredom, whose first treacherous onslaught I thought I could feel....
We had just crossed the frontier, and were skirting some meagre plantations of firs hanging to the ridge. My companion had begun to talk to me of Japan: he never allowed himself to be carried away by his enthusiasm but he admired this warlike and trading nation, at last recovered after the necessary trial, gifted with a colossal power of expansion, and who, one of these days would take Indo-China from us at a move. He added:
"My dear fellow, the prestige of France in the Far East has declined to such an extent that in order to do business we have to pose as an English firm. Out there I called myself Smith."
I noted this detail with interest as a sign of our decadence.
BELLS