La confession d'un enfant du siècle. English
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CHAPTER VII. THE WISDOM OF SIRACH
Upon returning to my apartments I found a large box in the centre ofthe room. One of my aunts had died, and I was one of the heirs to herfortune, which was not large.
The box contained, among other things, a number of musty old books. Notknowing what to do, and being afflicted with ennui, I began to read oneof them. They were for the most part romances of the time of Louis XV;my pious aunt had probably inherited them herself and never read them,for they were, so to speak, catechisms of vice.
I was singularly disposed to reflect on everything that came to mynotice, to give everything a mental and moral significance; I treatedevents as pearls in a necklace which I tried to string together.
It struck me that there was something significant about the arrivalof these books at this time. I devoured them with a bitterness and asadness born of despair. "Yes, you are right," I said to myself, "youalone possess the secret of life, you alone dare to say that nothing istrue and real but debauchery, hypocrisy, and corruption. Be my friends,throw on the wound in my soul your corrosive poisons, teach me tobelieve in you."
While buried in these shadows, I allowed my favorite poets andtext-books to accumulate dust. I even ground them under my feet inexcess of wrath. "You wretched dreamers!" I said to them; "you who teachme only suffering, miserable shufflers of words, charlatans, if you knowthe truth, fools, if you speak in good faith, liars in either case, whomake fairy-tales of the woes of the human heart. I will burn the lastone of you!"
Then tears came to my aid and I perceived that there was nothing realbut my grief. "Very well," I cried, in my delirium, "tell me, good andbad genii, counselors for good or evil, tell me what to do! Choose anarbiter and let him speak."
I seized an old Bible which lay on my table, and read the first passagethat caught my eye.
"Reply to me, thou book of God!" I said, "what word hast thou for me?"My eye fell on this passage in Ecclesiastes, Chapter IX:
For all this I considered in my heart even to declare all this, that the righteous and the wise, and their works, are in the hand of God; no man knoweth either love or hatred by all that is before them.
All things come alike to all: there is one event to the righteous, and to the wicked; to the good and to the clean, and to the unclean; to him that sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not: as is the good, so is the sinner; and he that sweareth, as he that feareth an oath.
This is an evil among all things that are done under the sun, that there is one event unto all: yea, also the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while they live, and after that they go to the dead.
When I read these words I was astounded; I did not know that there wassuch a sentiment in the Bible. "And thou, too, as all others, thou bookof hope!"
What do the astronomers think when they predict, at a given hourand place, the passage of a comet, that most eccentric of celestialtravellers? What do the naturalists think when they reveal the myriadforms of life concealed in a drop of water? Do they think they haveinvented what they see and that their lenses and microscopes make thelaw of nature? What did the first law-giver think when, seeking forthe corner-stone in the social edifice, angered doubtless by some idleimportunity, he struck the tables of brass and felt in his bowels theyearning for a law of retaliation? Did he, then, invent justice? Andthe first who plucked the fruit planted by his neighbor and who fledcowering under his mantle, did he invent shame? And he who, havingovertaken that same thief who had robbed him of the product of his toil,forgave him his sin, and, instead of raising his hand to smite him,said, "Sit thou down and eat thy fill;" when, after thus returning goodfor evil, he raised his eyes toward Heaven and felt his heart quivering,tears welling from his eyes, and his knees bending to the earth, did heinvent virtue? Oh, Heaven! here is a woman who speaks of love and whodeceives me; here is a man who speaks of friendship and counsels meto seek consolation in debauchery; here is another woman who weeps andwould console me with the flesh; here is a Bible that speaks of God andsays: "Perhaps; but nothing is of any real importance."
I ran to the open window: "Is it true that you are empty?" I cried,looking up at the pale expanse of sky which spread above me. "Reply,reply! Before I die, grant that I may clasp in these arms of minesomething more than a dream!"
Profound silence reigned. As I stood with arms outstretched, eyeslost in space, a swallow uttered a plaintive cry; in spite of myself Ifollowed it with my eyes; while the swallow disappeared from sight likea flash, a little girl passed singing.