“That means that he claimed to know all languages, to have gone to the bottom of all the sciences, to be able to refute all creeds and reconcile theologians of all breeds.”
“As I don’t think that you’re so conceited as that, lieutenant, I won’t compare you with this Monsieur de la Mirandola, who claimed to know everything. As for Cæsar, I’ve heard him spoken of as a very great man, but I’m sure he didn’t have as many mistresses as you.”
“You’re mistaken, Bertrand; the great men of antiquity had a great many female slaves, concubines, and often cast off their wives and took new ones. Love and Pleasure had temples in Greece; and those high and mighty Romans, who are represented to us as so strait-laced, weren’t ashamed to indulge in the wildest debauchery, to crown themselves with myrtle and roses, and sometimes to appear at their banquets in the costumes of our first parents.”
“For God’s sake, lieutenant, let’s drop the Romans, with whom I never exchanged a shot, and go back to what we were talking about.”
“I propose to prove to you, my dear Bertrand, that we are very far from surpassing preceding generations in folly, and are in fact much more virtuous.”
“Is that why you have four mistresses?”
“I love women, I admit; I will say more—I am proud of it; it is a natural inclination. I cannot see an attractive face, a fine pair of eyes, without feeling a pleasant thrill, an agitation, an I don’t know what, in short, that proves my extreme susceptibility. Is it a crime, pray, to be susceptible in an age when selfishness is carried to such lengths; when self-interest is the mainspring of almost all human actions; when we see authors prefer cash to renown, and men in office forgetful of everything except retaining their offices, instead of meditating on the good they might do; when we see artists begging for the patronage of people they despise, and asking alms from stupidity when it is in power; when we see men of letters carefully block a confrère’s path when they detect in him a talent that might outshine theirs; when, in short, every door is closed to obscure merit, and thrown wide open to impudence and conceit when accompanied by wealth? If selfishness had not wormed its way into all classes of society, if love of money had not replaced love of one’s neighbor, would it be thus? And you berate me for my susceptibility! You reproach me for being unable to listen unmoved to the story of a noble deed, or of pathetic misfortune; for giving money to people who deceive me; for allowing myself to be gulled like an ass by the palaver of a child who tells me that he is begging for his mother, or of a poor laboring man who swears that he has no work and nothing to eat! Well, my dear Bertrand, I prefer my susceptibility to their icy selfishness, and I find in my heart sources of enjoyment which their indifferent hearts will never know.”
This conversation took place in a stylish cabriolet, drawn by a prancing horse, which was bowling along the lovely road from Raincy to Montfermeil. A small groom of some twelve or fourteen years was perched behind the carriage, in which Bertrand was seated beside a young man, dressed in the latest fashion, who, as he conversed, touched occasionally with his whip the spirited steed he was driving.
Bertrand had partly turned his face away toward the end of his master’s speech; and to cloak the emotion which was beginning to be too much for him, he blew his nose and took a huge pinch of snuff. Somewhat composed thereby, he said in a voice slightly tremulous with emotion:
“God forbid, lieutenant, that I should blame you for being tender-hearted! I know your kind heart; I know how willing and ready to help you are! And I could mention a thousand things you’ve done that many men would have bragged about; whereas you are very careful to conceal them.”