\"Butdoyougrudgemesuchaverynaturalfeeling?\"askedLucien.
\"Weshouldbearinmindthathedidnothideit,\"saidLeonGiraud;
\"heisstillopenwithus;butIamafraidthathemaycometofeelshyofus.\"
\"Andwhy?\"Lucienasked.
\"Wecanreadyourthoughts,\"answeredJosephBridau.
\"Thereisadiabolicalspiritinyouthatwillseektojustifycourseswhichareutterlycontrarytoourprinciples.Insteadofbeingasophistintheory,youwillbeasophistinpractice.\"
\"Ah!Iamafraidofthat,\"saidd\'Arthez.\"Youwillcarryonadmirabledebatesinyourownmind,Lucien,andtakeupaloftypositionintheory,andendbyblameworthyactions.Youwillneverbeatonewithyourself.\"
\"Whatgroundhaveyouforthesecharges?\"
\"Thyvanity,dearpoet,issogreatthatitintrudesitselfevenintothyfriendships!\"criedFulgence.\"Allvanityofthatsortisasymptomofshockingegoism,andegoismpoisonsfriendship.\"
\"Oh!dear,\"saidLucien,\"youcannotknowhowmuchIloveyouall.\"
\"Ifyoulovedusasweloveyou,wouldyouhavebeeninsuchahurrytoreturnthemoneywhichwehadsuchpleasureinlending?orhavemadesomuchofit?\"
\"Wedon\'tlendhere;wegive,\"saidJosephBridauroughly.
\"Don\'tthinkusunkind,dearboy,\"saidMichelChrestien;\"wearelookingforward.Weareafraidlestsomedayyoumaypreferapettyrevengetothejoysofpurefriendship.ReadGoethe\'sTasso,thegreatmaster\'sgreatestwork,andyouwillseehowthepoet-herolovedgorgeousstuffsandbanquetsandtriumphandapplause.Verywell,beTassowithouthisfolly.Perhapstheworldanditspleasurestemptyou?Staywithus.Carryallthecravingsofvanityintotheworldofimagination.Transposefolly.Keepvirtuefordailywear,andletimaginationrunriot,insteadofdoing,asd\'Arthezsays,thinkinghighthoughtsandlivingbeneaththem.\"
Lucienhunghishead.Hisfriendswereright.
\"IconfessthatyouarestrongerthanI,\"hesaid,withacharmingglanceatthem.\"MybackandshouldersarenotmadetobeartheburdenofParislife;Icannotstrugglebravely.Wearebornwithdifferenttemperamentsandfaculties,andyouknowbetterthanIthatfaultsandvirtueshavetheirreverseside.Iamtiredalready,Iconfess.\"
\"Wewillstandbyyou,\"saidd\'Arthez;\"itisjustinthesewaysthatafaithfulfriendshipisofuse.\"
\"ThehelpthatIhavejustreceivedisprecarious,andeveryoneofusisjustaspoorasanother;wantwillsoonovertakemeagain.
Chrestien,attheserviceofthefirstthathireshim,candonothingwiththepublishers;Bianchonisquiteoutofit;d\'Arthez\'sbooksellersonlydealinscientificandtechnicalbooks——theyhavenoconnectionwithpublishersofnewliterature;andasforHoraceandFulgenceRidalandBridau,theirworkliesmilesawayfromthebooksellers.Thereisnohelpforit;Imustmakeupmymindonewayoranother.\"
\"Stickbyus,andmakeupyourmindtoit,\"saidBianchon.\"Bearupbravely,andtrustinhardwork.\"
\"Butwhatishardshipforyouisdeathforme,\"Lucienputinquickly.
\"Beforethecockcrowsthrice,\"smiledLeonGiraud,\"thismanwillbetraythecauseofworkforanidlelifeandthevicesofParis.\"
\"Wherehasworkbroughtyou?\"askedLucien,laughing.
\"WhenyoustartoutfromParisforItaly,youdon\'tfindRomehalf-
way,\"saidJosephBridau.\"Youwantyourpeasetogrowreadybutteredforyou.\"
Theconversationendedinajoke,andtheychangedthesubject.
Lucien\'sfriends,withtheirperspicacityanddelicacyofheart,triedtoeffacethememoryofthelittlequarrel;butLucienknewthenceforwardthatitwasnoeasymattertodeceivethem.Hesoonfellintodespair,whichhewascarefultohidefromsuchsternmentorsasheimaginedthemtobe;andtheSoutherntemperthatrunssoeasilythroughthewholegamutofmentaldispositions,sethimmakingthemostcontradictoryresolutions.
Againandagainhetalkedofmakingtheplungeintojournalism;andtimeaftertimedidhisfriendsreplywitha\"Mindyoudonothingofthesort!\"
\"Itwouldbethetombofthebeautiful,graciousLucienwhomweloveandknow,\"saidd\'Arthez.
\"Youwouldnotholdoutforlongbetweenthetwoextremesoftoilandpleasurewhichmakeupajournalist\'slife,andresistanceistheveryfoundationofvirtue.Youwouldbesodelightedtoexerciseyourpoweroflifeanddeathovertheoffspringofthebrain,thatyouwouldbeanout-and-outjournalistintwomonths\'time.Tobeajournalist——
thatistoturnHerodintherepublicofletters.Themanwhowillsayanythingwillendbystickingatnothing.ThatwasNapoleon\'smaxim,anditexplainsitself.\"
\"Butyouwouldbewithme,wouldyounot?\"askedLucien.
\"Notbythattime,\"saidFulgence.\"Ifyouwereajournalist,youwouldnomorethinkofusthantheOperagirlinallherglory,withheradorersandhersilk-linedcarriage,thinksofthevillageathomeandhercowsandhersabots.Youcouldneverresistthetemptationtopenawitticism,thoughitshouldbringtearstoafriend\'seyes.I
comeacrossjournalistsintheatrelobbies;itmakesmeshuddertoseethem.Journalismisaninferno,abottomlesspitofiniquityandtreacheryandlies;noonecantraverseitundefiled,unless,likeDante,heisprotectedbyVirgil\'ssacredlaurel.\"
Butthemorethesetoffriendsopposedtheideaofjournalism,themoreLucien\'sdesiretoknowitsperilsgrewandtemptedhim.Hebegantodebatewithinhisownmind;wasitnotridiculoustoallowwanttofindhimasecondtimedefenceless?Hebethoughthimofthefailureofhisattemptstodisposeofhisfirstnovel,andfeltbutlittletemptedtobeginasecond.How,besides,washetolivewhilehewaswritinganotherromance?Onemonthofprivationhadexhaustedhisstockofpatience.Whyshouldhenotdonoblythatwhichjournalistsdidignoblyandwithoutprinciple?Hisfriendsinsultedhimwiththeirdoubts;hewouldconvincethemofhisstrengthofmind.Someday,perhaps,hewouldbeofusetothem;hewouldbetheheraldoftheirfame!
\"Andwhatsortofafriendshipisitwhichrecoilsfromcomplicity?\"
demandedheoneeveningofMichelChrestien;LucienandLeonGiraudwerewalkinghomewiththeirfriend.
\"Weshrinkfromnothing,\"MichelChrestienmadereply.\"Ifyouweresounluckyastokillyourmistress,Iwouldhelpyoutohideyourcrime,andcouldstillrespectyou;butifyouweretoturnspy,Ishouldshunyouwithabhorrence,foraspyissystematicallyshamelessandbase.Thereyouhavejournalismsummedupinasentence.Friendshipcanpardonerrorandthehastyimpulseofpassion;itisboundtobeinexorablewhenamandeliberatelytrafficsinhisownsoul,andintellect,andopinions.\"
\"WhycannotIturnjournalisttosellmyvolumeofpoetryandthenovel,andthengiveupatonce?\"
\"Machiavellimightdoso,butnotLuciendeRubempre,\"saidLeonGiraud.
\"Verywell,\"exclaimedLucien;\"IwillshowyouthatIcandoasmuchasMachiavelli.\"
\"Oh!\"criedMichel,graspingLeon\'shand,\"youhavedoneit,Leon——
Lucien,\"hecontinued,\"youhavethreehundredfrancsinhand;youcanlivecomfortablyforthreemonths;verywell,then,workhardandwriteanotherromance.D\'ArthezandFulgencewillhelpyouwiththeplot;youwillimprove,youwillbeanovelist.AndI,meanwhile,willenteroneofthoselupanarsofthought;forthreemonthsIwillbeajournalist.Iwillsellyourbookstosomebooksellerorotherbyattackinghispublications;Iwillwritethearticlesmyself;Iwillgetothersforyou.Wewillorganizeasuccess;youshallbeagreatman,andstillremainourLucien.\"
\"Youmustdespisemeverymuch,ifyouthinkthatIshouldperishwhileyouescape,\"saidthepoet.
\"OLord,forgivehim;itisachild!\"criedMichelChrestien.
WhenLucien\'sintellecthadbeenstimulatedbytheeveningsspentind\'Arthez\'sgarret,hehadmadesomestudyofthejokesandarticlesinthesmallernewspapers.Hewasatleasttheequal,hefelt,ofthewittiestcontributors;inprivatehetriedsomementalgymnasticsofthekind,andwentoutonemorningwiththetriumphantideaoffindingsomecolonelofsuchlightskirmishersofthepressandenlistingintheirranks.Hedressedinhisbestandcrossedthebridges,thinkingashewentthatauthors,journalists,andmenofletters,hisfuturecomrades,inshort,wouldshowhimrathermorekindnessanddisinterestednessthanthetwospeciesofbooksellerswhohadsodashedhishopes.Heshouldmeetwithfellow-feeling,andsomethingofthekindlyandgratefulaffectionwhichhefoundinthecenacleoftheRuedesQuatre-Vents.Tormentedbyemotion,consequentuponthepresentimentstowhichmenofimaginationclingsofondly,halfbelieving,halfbattlingwiththeirbeliefinthem,hearrivedintheRueSaint-FiacreofftheBoulevardMontmartre.Beforeahouse,occupiedbytheofficesofasmallnewspaper,hestopped,andatthesightofithisheartbegantothrobasheavilyasthepulsesofayouthuponthethresholdofsomeevilhaunt.
Nevertheless,upstairshewent,andfoundtheofficesinthelowentresolbetweenthegroundfloorandthefirststory.Thefirstroomwasdivideddownthemiddlebyapartition,thelowerhalfofsolidwood,theupperlatticeworktotheceiling.InthisapartmentLuciendiscoveredaone-armedpensionersupportingseveralreamsofpaperonhisheadwithhisremaininghand,whilebetweenhisteethheheldthepassbookwhichtheInlandRevenueDepartmentrequireseverynewspapertoproducewitheachissue.Thisill-favoredindividual,ownerofayellowcountenancecoveredwithredexcrescences,towhichheowedhisnicknameof\"Coloquinte,\"indicatedapersonagebehindthelatticeastheCerberusofthepaper.Thiswasanelderlyofficerwithamedalonhischestandasilkskull-caponhishead;hisnosewasalmosthiddenbyapairofgrizzledmoustaches,andhispersonwashiddenascompletelyinanampleblueovercoatasthebodyoftheturtleinitscarapace.
\"Fromwhatdatedoyouwishyoursubscriptiontocommence,sir?\"
inquiredtheEmperor\'sofficer.
\"Ididnotcomeaboutasubscription,\"returnedLucien.Lookingabouthim,hesawaplacardfastenedonadoor,correspondingtotheonebywhichhehadentered,andreadthewords——EDITOR\'SOFFICE,andbelow,insmallerletters,Noadmittanceexceptonbusiness.
\"Acomplaint,Iexpect?\"repliedtheveteran.\"Ah!yes;wehavebeenhardonMariette.Whatwouldyouhave?Idon\'tknowthewhyandwhereforeofityet——Butifyouwantsatisfaction,Iamreadyforyou,\"headded,glancingatacollectionofsmallarmsandfoilsstackedinacorner,thearmoryofthemodernwarrior.
\"Thatwasstillfurtherfrommyintention,sir.Ihavecometospeaktotheeditor.\"
\"Nobodyiseverherebeforefouro\'clock.\"
\"Lookyouhere,Giroudeau,oldchap,\"remarkedavoice,\"Imakeitelevencolumns;elevencolumnsatfivefrancsapieceisfifty-fivefrancs,andIhaveonlybeenpaidforty;soyouowemeanotherfifteenfrancs,asIhavebeentellingyou.\"
Thesewordsproceededfromalittleweasel-face,pallidandsemi-
transparentasthehalf-boiledwhiteofanegg;twoslitsofeyeslookedoutofit,mildblueintint,butappallinglymalignantinexpression;andtheowner,aninsignificantyoungman,wascompletelyhiddenbytheveteran\'sopaqueperson.Itwasablood-curdlingvoice,asoundbetweenthemewingofacatandthewheezychokingsofahyena.
\"Yes,yes,mylittlemilitiaman,\"retortedheofthemedal,\"butyouarecountingtheheadingsandwhitelines.IhaveFinot\'sinstructionstoaddupthetotalsofthelines,andtodividethembythepropernumberforeachcolumn;andafterIperformedthatconcentratingoperationonyourcopy,therewerethreecolumnsless.\"
\"Hedoesn\'tpayfortheblanks,theJew!Hereckonstheminthoughwhenhesendsupthetotalofhisworktohispartner,andhegetspaidforthemtoo.IwillgoandseeEtienneLousteau,Vernou——\"
\"Icannotgobeyondmyorders,myboy,\"saidtheveteran.\"What!doyoucryoutagainstyourfoster-motherforamatteroffifteenfrancs?
youthatturnoutanarticleaseasilyasIsmokeacigar.Fifteenfrancs!why,youwillgiveabowlofpunchtoyourfriends,orwinanextragameofbilliards,andthere\'sanendofit!\"
\"Finot\'ssavingswillcosthimverydear,\"saidthecontributorashetookhisdeparture.
\"Now,wouldnotanybodythinkthathewasRousseauandVoltairerolledinone?\"thecashierremarkedtohimselfasheglancedatLucien.
\"Iwillcomeinagainatfour,sir,\"saidLucien.
Whiletheargumentproceeded,Lucienhadbeenlookingabouthim.HesawuponthewallstheportraitsofBenjaminConstant,GeneralFoy,andtheseventeenillustriousoratorsoftheLeft,interspersedwithcaricaturesattheexpenseoftheGovernment;buthelookedmoreparticularlyatthedoorofthesanctuarywhere,nodoubt,thepaperwaselaborated,thewittypaperthatamusedhimdaily,andenjoyedtheprivilegeofridiculingkingsandthemostportentousevents,ofcallinganythingandeverythinginquestionwithajest.Thenhesaunteredalongtheboulevards.Itwasanentirelynovelamusement;
andsoagreeabledidhefindit,that,lookingattheturretclocks,hesawthehourhandswerepointingtofour,andonlythenrememberedthathehadnotbreakfasted.
HewentatonceinthedirectionoftheRueSaint-Fiacre,climbedthestair,andopenedthedoor.
Theveteranofficerwasabsent;buttheoldpensioner,sittingonapileofstampedpapers,wasmunchingacrustandactingassentinelresignedly.Coloquintewasasmuchaccustomedtohisworkintheofficeastothefatiguedutyofformerdays,understandingasmuchoraslittleaboutitasthewhyandwhereforeofforcedmarchesmadebytheEmperor\'sorders.Lucienwasinspiredwiththeboldideaofdeceivingthatformidablefunctionary.Hesettledhishatonhishead,andwalkedintotheeditor\'sofficeasifhewerequiteathome.
Lookingeagerlyabouthim,hebeheldaroundtablecoveredwithagreencloth,andhalf-a-dozencherry-woodchairs,newlyreseatedwithstraw.Thecoloredbrickfloorhadnotbeenwaxed,butitwasclean;
socleanthatthepublic,evidently,seldomenteredtheroom.Therewasamirrorabovethechimney-piece,andontheledgebelow,amidasprinklingofvisiting-cards,stoodashopkeeper\'sclock,smotheredwithdust,andacoupleofcandlestickswithtallowdipsthrustintotheirsockets.Afewantiquenewspaperslayonthetablebesideaninkstandcontainingsomeblacklacquer-likesubstance,andacollectionofquillpenstwistedintostars.Sundrydirtyscrapsofpaper,coveredwithalmostundecipherablehieroglyphs,provedtobemanuscriptarticlestornacrossthetopbythecompositortocheckoffthesheetsastheyweresetup.Headmiredafewratherclevercaricatures,sketchedonbitsofbrownpaperbysomebodywhoevidentlyhadtriedtokilltimebykillingsomethingelsetokeephishandin.
Otherworksofartwerepinnedinthecheapsea-greenwall-paper.
Theseconsistedofninepen-and-inkillustrationsforLeSolitaire.
Theworkhadattainedtosuchanunheard-ofEuropeanpopularity,thatjournalistsevidentlyweretiredofit——\"TheSolitarymakeshisfirstappearanceintheprovinces;sensationamongthewomen——TheSolitaryperusedatachateau——EffectoftheSolitaryondomesticanimals——
TheSolitaryexplainedtosavagetribes,withthemostbrilliantresults——TheSolitarytranslatedintoChineseandpresentedbytheauthortotheEmperoratPekin——TheMontSauvage,RapeofElodie.\"——
Lucienthoughthiscaricatureveryshocking,buthecouldnothelplaughingatit.——\"TheSolitaryunderacanopyconductedin
Betweenthewindowandthechimney-piecestoodawriting-table,amahoganyarmchair,andawaste-paperbasketonastripofhearth-rug;
thedustlaythickonalltheseobjects.Therewereshortcurtainsinthewindows.Aboutascoreofnewbookslayonthewriting-table,depositedthereapparentlyduringtheday,togetherwithprints,music,snuff-boxesofthe\"Charter\"pattern,acopyofthenintheditionofLeSolitairethegreatjokeofthemoment,andsometenunopenedletters.
Lucienhadtakenstockofthisstrangefurniture,andmadereflectionsofthemostexhaustivekinduponit,when,theclockstrikingfive,hereturnedtoquestionthepensioner.Coloquintehadfinishedhiscrust,andwaswaitingwiththepatienceofacommissionaire,forthemanofmedals,whoperhapswastakinganairingontheboulevard.
Atthisconjuncturetherustleofadresssoundedonthestair,andthelightunmistakablefootstepofawomanonthethreshold.Thenewcomerwaspassablypretty.SheaddressedherselftoLucien.
\"Sir,\"shesaid,\"IknowwhyyoucryupMlle.Virginie\'shatssomuch;
andIhavecometoputdownmynameforayear\'ssubscriptioninthefirstplace;buttellmeyourconditions——\"
\"Iamnotconnectedwiththepaper,madame.\"
\"Oh!\"
\"AsubscriptiondatingfromOctober?\"inquiredthepensioner.
\"Whatdoestheladywanttoknow?\"askedtheveteran,reappearingonthescene.
Thefairmillinerandtheretiredmilitarymanweresoondeepinconverse;andwhenLucien,beginningtolosepatience,camebacktothefirstroom,heheardtheconclusionofthematter.
\"Why,Ishallbedelighted,quitedelighted,sir.Mlle.Florentinecancometomyshopandchooseanythingshelikes.Ribbonsareinmydepartment.Soitisallquitesettled.YouwillsaynomoreaboutVirginie,abotcherthatcannotdesignanewshape,whileIhaveideasofmyown,Ihave.\"
Lucienheardasoundasofcoinsdroppingintoacashbox,andtheveteranbegantomakeuphisbooksfortheday.
\"Ihavebeenwaitinghereforanhour,sir,\"Lucienbegan,lookingnotalittleannoyed.
\"And\'they\'havenotcomeyet!\"exclaimedNapoleon\'sveteran,civillyfeigningconcern.\"Iamnotsurprisedatthat.ItissometimesinceI
haveseen\'them\'here.Itisthemiddleofthemonth,yousee.Thosefinefellowsonlyturnuponpaydays——the29thorthe30th.\"
\"AndM.Finot?\"askedLucien,havingcaughttheeditor\'sname.
\"HeisintheRueFeydeau,that\'swherehelives.Coloquinte,oldchap,justtakehimeverythingthathascomeinto-daywhenyougowiththepapertotheprinters.\"
\"Whereisthenewspaperputtogether?\"Luciensaidtohimself.
\"Thenewspaper?\"repeatedtheofficer,ashereceivedtherestofthestampmoneyfromColoquinte,\"thenewspaper?——broum!broum!——Mindyouareroundattheprinters\'bysixo\'clockto-morrow,oldchap,tosendofftheporters.——Thenewspaper,sir,iswritteninthestreet,atthewriters\'houses,intheprinting-officebetweenelevenandtwelveo\'clockatnight.IntheEmperor\'stime,sir,theseshopsforspoiledpaperwerenotknown.Oh!hewouldhaveclearedthemoutwithfourmenandacorporal;theywouldnothavecomeoverHIMwiththeirtalk.Butthatisenoughofprattling.Ifmynephewfindsitworthhiswhile,andsolongastheywriteforthesonoftheOtherbroum!broum!——
afterall,thereisnoharminthat.Ah!bytheway,subscribersdon\'tseemtometobeadvancinginserriedcolumns;Ishallleavemypost.\"
\"Youseemtoknowallaboutthenewspaper,sir,\"Lucienbegan.
\"Fromabusinesspointofview,broum!broum!\"coughedthesoldier,clearinghisthroat.\"Fromthreetofivefrancspercolumn,accordingtoability——Fiftylinestoacolumn,fortyletterstoaline;noblanks;thereyouare!Asforthestaff,theyarequeerfish,littleyoungsterswhomIwouldn\'ttakeonforthecommissariat;andbecausetheymakeflytracksonsheetsofwhitepaper,theylookdown,forsooth,onanoldCaptainofDragoonsoftheGuard,thatretiredwithamajor\'srankafterenteringeveryEuropeancapitalwithNapoleon.\"
ThesoldierofNapoleonbrushedhiscoat,andmadeasifhewouldgoout,butLucien,swepttothedoor,hadcourageenoughtomakeastand.
\"Icametobeacontributorofthepaper,\"hesaid.\"Iamfullofrespect,Ivowanddeclare,foracaptainoftheImperialGuard,thosemenofbronze——\"
\"Wellsaid,mylittlecivilian,thereareseveralkindsofcontributors;whichkinddoyouwishtobe?\"repliedthetrooper,bearingdownonLucien,anddescendingthestairs.Atthefootoftheflighthestopped,butitwasonlytolightacigarattheporter\'sbox.
\"Ifanysubscriberscome,youseethemandtakenoteofthem,MotherChollet——Simplysubscribers,neverknowanythingbutsubscribers,\"headded,seeingthatLucienfollowedhim.\"Finotismynephew;heistheonlyoneofmyfamilythathasdoneanythingtorelievemeinmyposition.SowhenanybodycomestopickaquarrelwithFinot,hefindsoldGiroudeau,CaptainoftheDragoonsoftheGuard,thatsetoutasaprivateinacavalryregimentinthearmyoftheSambre-et-Meuse,andwasfencing-masterforfiveyearstotheFirstHussars,armyofItaly!
One,two,andthemanthathadanycomplaintstomakewouldbeturnedoffintothedark,\"headded,makingalunge.\"Nowwriters,myboy,areindifferentcorps;thereisthewriterwhowritesanddrawshispay;thereisthewriterwhowritesandgetsnothingavolunteerwecallhim;and,lastly,thereisthewriterwhowritesnothing,andheisbynomeansthestupidest,forhemakesnomistakes;hegiveshimselfoutforaliteraryman,heisonthepaper,hetreatsustodinners,heloafsaboutthetheatres,hekeepsanactress,heisverywelloff.Whatdoyoumeantobe?\"
\"Themanthatdoesgoodworkandgetsgoodpay.\"
\"Youareliketherecruits.TheyallwanttobemarshalsofFrance.
TakeoldGiroudeau\'swordforit,andturnrightabout,indouble-
quicktime,andgoandpickupnailsinthegutterlikethatgoodfellowyonder;youcantellbythelookofhimthathehasbeeninthearmy——Isn\'titashamethatanoldsoldierwhohaswalkedintothejawsofdeathhundredsoftimesshouldbepickingupoldironinthestreetsofParis?Ah!GodA\'mighty!\'twasashabbytricktodeserttheEmperor——Well,myboy,theindividualyousawthismorninghasmadehisfortyfrancsamonth.Areyougoingtodobetter?And,accordingtoFinot,heisthecleverestmanonthestaff.\"
\"WhenyouenlistedintheSambre-et-Meuse,didtheytalkaboutdanger?\"
\"Rather.\"
\"Verywell?\"
\"Verywell.GoandseemynephewFinot,agoodfellow,asgoodafellowasyouwillfind,ifyoucanfindhim,thatis,forheislikeafish,alwaysonthemove.Inhiswayofbusiness,thereisnowriting,yousee,itissettingotherstowrite.Thatsortlikegallivantingaboutwithactressesbetterthanscribblingonsheetsofpaper,itseems.Oh!theyarequeercustomers,theyare.HopeImayhavethehonorofseeingyouagain.\"
Withthatthecashierraisedhisformidableloadedcane,oneofthedefendersofGermainicus,andwalkedoff,leavingLucieninthestreet,asmuchbewilderedbythispictureofthenewspaperworldashehadformerlybeenbythepracticalaspectsofliteratureatMessrs.
VidalandPorchon\'sestablishment.
TenseveraltimesdidLucienrepairtotheRueFeydeauinsearchofAndocheFinot,andtentimeshefailedtofindthatgentleman.Hewentfirstthinginthemorning;Finothadnotcomein.Atnoon,Finothadgoneout;hewasbreakfastingatsuchandsuchacafe.Atthecafe,inanswertoinquiriesofthewaitress,madeaftersurmountingunspeakablerepugnance,LucienheardthatFinothadjustlefttheplace.Lucien,atlengthtiredout,begantoregardFinotasamythicalandfabulouscharacter;itappearedsimplertowaylayEtienneLousteauatFlicoteaux\'s.Thatyouthfuljournalistwould,doubtless,explainthemysteriesthatenvelopedthepaperforwhichhewrote.
Sincetheday,ahundredtimesblessed,whenLucienmadetheacquaintanceofDanield\'Arthez,hehadtakenanotherseatatFlicoteaux\'s.Thetwofriendsdinedsidebyside,talkinginloweredvoicesofthehigherliterature,ofsuggestedsubjects,andwaysofpresenting,openingup,anddevelopingthem.AtthepresenttimeDanield\'ArthezwascorrectingthemanuscriptofTheArcherofCharlesIX.Hereconstructedwholechapters,andwrotethefinepassagesfoundtherein,aswellasthemagnificentpreface,whichis,perhaps,thebestthinginthebook,andthrowssomuchlightontheworkoftheyoungschoolofliterature.OnedayitsohappenedthatDanielhadbeenwaitingforLucien,whonowsatwithhisfriend\'shandinhisown,whenhesawEtienneLousteauturnthedoor-handle.LucieninstantlydroppedDaniel\'shand,andtoldthewaiterthathewoulddineathisoldplacebythecounter.D\'ArthezgaveLucienaglanceofdivinekindness,inwhichreproachwaswrappedinforgiveness.Theglancecutthepoettothequick;hetookDaniel\'shandandgraspeditanew.
\"Itisanimportantquestionofbusinessforme;Iwilltellyouaboutitafterwards,\"saidhe.
LucienwasinhisoldplacebythetimethatLousteaureachedthetable;asthefirstcomer,hegreetedhisacquaintance;theysoonstruckupaconversation,whichgrewsolivelythatLucienwentoffinsearchofthemanuscriptoftheMarguerites,whileLousteaufinishedhisdinner.Hehadobtainedleavetolayhissonnetsbeforethejournalist,andmistookthecivilityofthelatterforwillingnesstofindhimapublisher,oraplaceonthepaper.WhenLuciencamehurryingbackagain,hesawd\'Arthezrestinganelbowonthetableinacorneroftherestaurant,andknewthathisfriendwaswatchinghimwithmelancholyeyes,buthewouldnotseed\'Arthezjustthen;hefeltthesharppangsofpoverty,thegoadingsofambition,andfollowedLousteau.
InthelateafternoonthejournalistandtheneophytewenttotheLuxembourg,andsatdownunderthetreesinthatpartofthegardenswhichliesbetweenthebroadAvenuedel\'ObservatoireandtheRuedel\'Ouest.TheRuedel\'Ouestatthattimewasalongmorass,boundedbyplanksandmarket-gardens;thehouseswereallattheendnearesttheRuedeVaugirard;andthewalkthroughthegardenswassolittlefrequented,thatatthehourwhenParisdines,twoloversmightfalloutandexchangetheearnestofreconciliationwithoutfearofintruders.Theonlypossiblespoil-sportwasthepensionerondutyatthelittleirongateontheRuedel\'Ouest,ifthatgray-headedveteranshouldtakeitintohisheadtolengthenhismonotonousbeat.
There,onabenchbeneaththelime-trees,EtienneLousteausatandlistenedtosample-sonnetsfromtheMarguerites.
EtienneLousteau,afteratwo-years\'apprenticeship,wasonthestaffofanewspaper;hehadhisfootinthestirrup;hereckonedsomeofthecelebritiesofthedayamonghisfriends;altogether,hewasanimposingpersonageinLucien\'seyes.Wherefore,whileLucienuntiedthestringabouttheMarguerites,hejudgeditnecessarytomakesomesortofpreface.
\"Thesonnet,monsieur,\"saidhe,\"isoneofthemostdifficultformsofpoetry.Ithasfallenalmostentirelyintodisuse.NoFrenchmancanhopetorivalPetrarch;forthelanguageinwhichtheItalianwrote,beingsoinfinitelymorepliantthanFrench,lendsitselftoplayofthoughtwhichourpositivismpardontheuseoftheexpression
rejects.Soitseemedtomethatavolumeofsonnetswouldbesomethingquitenew.VictorHugohasappropriatedtheold,Canaliswriteslighterverse,Berangerhasmonopolizedsongs,CasimirDelavignehastakentragedy,andLamartinethepoetryofmeditation.\"
\"Areyoua\'Classic\'ora\'Romantic\'?\"inquiredLousteau.
Lucien\'sastonishmentbetrayedsuchcompleteignoranceofthestateofaffairsintherepublicofletters,thatLousteauthoughtitnecessarytoenlightenhim.
\"Youhavecomeupinthemiddleofapitchedbattle,mydearfellow;
youmustmakeyourdecisionatonce.Literatureisdivided,inthefirstplace,intoseveralzones,butourgreatmenarerangedintwohostilecamps.TheRoyalistsare\'Romantics,\'theLiberalsare\'Classics.\'Thedivergenceoftasteinmattersliteraryanddivergenceofpoliticalopinioncoincide;andtheresultisawarwithweaponsofeverysort,double-edgedwitticisms,subtlecalumniesandnicknamesaoutrance,betweentherisingandthewaningglory,andinkisshedintorrents.TheoddpartofitisthattheRoyalist-Romanticsareallforlibertyinliterature,andforrepealinglawsandconventions;
whiletheLiberal-Classicsareformaintainingtheunities,theAlexandrine,andtheclassicaltheme.Soopinionsinpoliticsoneithersidearedirectlyatvariancewithliterarytaste.Ifyouareeclectic,youwillhavenooneforyou.Whichsidedoyoutake?\"
\"Whichisthewinningside?\"
\"TheLiberalnewspapershavefarmoresubscribersthantheRoyalistandMinisterialjournals;still,thoughCanalisisforChurchandKing,andpatronizedbytheCourtandtheclergy,hereachesotherreaders——Pshaw!sonnetsdatebacktoanepochbeforeBoileau\'stime,\"
saidEtienne,seeingLucien\'sdismayattheprospectofchoosingbetweentwobanners.\"BeaRomantic.TheRomanticsareyoungmen,andtheClassicsarepedants;theRomanticswillgaintheday.\"
Theword\"pedant\"wasthelatestepithettakenupbyRomanticjournalismtoheapconfusionontheClassicalfaction.
Lucienbegantoread,choosingfirstofallthetitle-sonnets.
EASTERDAISIES.
Thedaisiesinthemeadows,notinvain,Inredandwhiteandgoldbeforeoureyes,Havewrittenanidyllforman\'ssympathies,Andsethisheart\'sdesireinlanguageplain.
GoldstamenssetinsilverfiligraneRevealthetreasureswhichweidolize;
AndallthecostofstrugglefortheprizeIssymboledbyasecretblood-redstain.
WasitbecauseyourpetalsonceuncurledWhenJesusroseuponafairerworld,Andfromwingsshakenforaheav\'nwardflightShedgrace,thatstillasautumnreappearsYoubloomagaintotellofdeaddelight,Tobringusbackthefloweroftwentyyears?
LucienfeltpiquedbyLousteau\'scompleteindifferenceduringthereadingofthesonnet;hewasunfamiliarasyetwiththedisconcertingimpassibilityoftheprofessionalcritic,weariedbymuchreadingofpoetry,prose,andplays.Lucienwasaccustomedtoapplause.Hechokeddownhisdisappointmentandreadanother,afavoritewithMme.deBargetonandwithsomeofhisfriendsintheRuedesQuatre-Vents.
\"Thisone,perhaps,willdrawawordfromhim,\"hethought.
THEMARGUERITE.
IamtheMarguerite,fairandtallIgrewInvelvetmeadows,\'midtheflowersastar.
Theysoughtmeformybeautynearandfar;
Mydawn,Ithought,shouldbeforevernew.
Butnowanallunwished-forgiftIrue,AfatalrayofknowledgeshedtomarMyradiantstar-crowngrownoracular,ForImustspeakandgiveananswertrue.
Anendofsilenceandofquietdays,TheLoverwithtwowordsmycounselprays;
Andwhenmysecretfrommyheartisreft,Whenallmysilverpetalsscatteredlie,Iamtheonlyflowerneglectedleft,Castdownandtroddenunderfoottodie.
Attheend,thepoetlookedupathisAristarchus.EtienneLousteauwasgazingatthetreesinthePepiniere.
\"Well?\"askedLucien.
\"Well,mydearfellow,goon!Iamlisteningtoyou,amInot?ThatfactinitselfisasgoodaspraiseinParis.\"
\"Haveyouhadenough?\"Lucienasked.
\"Goon,\"theotheransweredabruptlyenough.
Lucienproceededtoreadthefollowingsonnet,buthisheartwasdeadwithinhim;Lousteau\'sinscrutablecomposurefrozehisutterance.Ifhehadcomealittlefurtherupontheroad,hewouldhaveknownthatbetweenwriterandwritersilenceorabruptspeech,undersuchcircumstances,isabetrayalofjealousy,andoutspokenadmirationmeansasenseofreliefoverthediscoverythattheworkisnotabovetheaverageafterall.
THECAMELLIA.
InNature\'sbook,ifrightlyunderstood,Therosemeanslove,andredforbeautyglows;
Apure,sweetspiritinthevioletblows,Andbrightthelilygleamsinlowlihood.
Butthisstrangebloom,bysunandwindunwooed,Seemstoexpandandblossom\'midthesnows,Alilysceptreless,ascentlessrose,Fordaintylistlessnessofmaidenhood.
YetattheoperahousethepetalstraceFormodestyafittingaureole;
Analabasterwreathtolay,methought,Induskyhairo\'ersomefairwoman\'sfaceWhichkindlesev\'nsuchlovewithinthesoulAssculpturedmarbleformsbyPhidiaswrought.
\"Whatdoyouthinkofmypoorsonnets?\"Lucienasked,comingstraighttothepoint.
\"Doyouwantthetruth?\"
\"Iamyoungenoughtolikethetruth,andsoanxioustosucceedthatI
canhearitwithouttakingoffence,butnotwithoutdespair,\"repliedLucien.
\"Well,mydearfellow,thefirstsonnet,fromitsinvolvedstyle,wasevidentlywrittenatAngouleme;itgaveyousomuchtrouble,nodoubt,thatyoucannotgiveitup.ThesecondandthirdsmackofParisalready;butreadusonemoresonnet,\"headded,withagesturethatseemedcharmingtotheprovincial.
Encouragedbytherequest,Lucienreadwithmoreconfidence,choosingasonnetwhichd\'ArthezandBridaulikedbest,perhapsonaccountofitscolor.