The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖
- Author: Honore de Balzac
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desire.
Phellion, a man of passive obedience, was stoical in the matter of
duty, and iron in all that touched his conscience. To complete this
picture by a sketch of his person, we must add that at fifty-nine
years of age Phellion had "thickened," to use a term of the bourgeois
vocabulary. His face, of one monotonous tone and pitted with the
small-pox, had grown to resemble a full moon; so that his lips,
formerly large, now seemed of ordinary size. His eyes, much weakened,
and protected by glasses, no longer showed the innocence of their
light-blue orbs, which in former days had often excited a smile; his
white hair now gave gravity to much that twelve years earlier had
looked like silliness, and lent itself to ridicule. Time, which does
such damage to faces with refined and delicate features, only improves
those which, in their youth, have been course and massive. This was
the case with Phellion. He occupied the leisure of his old age in
making an abridgment of the History of France; for Phellion was the
author of several works adopted by the University.
When la Peyrade presented himself, the family were all together.
Madame Barniol was just telling her mother about one of her babies,
which was slightly indisposed. They were dressed in their Sunday
clothes, and were sitting before the fireplace of the wainscoted salon
on chairs bought at a bargain; and they all felt an emotion when
Genevieve, the cook and portress, announced the personage of whom they
were just then speaking in connection with Celeste, whom, we must here
state, Felix Phellion loved, to the extent of going to mass to behold
her. The learned mathematician had made that effort in the morning,
and the family were joking him about it in a pleasant way, hoping in
their hearts that Celeste and her parents might understand the
treasure that was thus offered to them.
"Alas! the Thuilliers seem to me infatuated with a very dangerous
man," said Madame Phellion. "He took Madame Colleville by the arm this
morning after church, and they went together to the Luxembourg."
"There is something about that lawyer," remarked Felix Phellion, "that
strikes me as sinister. He might be found to have committed some crime
and I shouldn't be surprised."
"That's going too far," said old Phellion. "He is cousin-germain to
Tartuffe, that immortal figure cast in bronze by our honest Moliere;
for Moliere, my children, had honesty and patriotism for the basis of
his genius."
It was at that instant that Genevieve came in to say, "There's a
Monsieur de la Peyrade out there, who wants to see monsieur."
"To see me!" exclaimed Phellion. "Ask him to come in," he added, with
that solemnity in little things which gave him even now a touch of
absurdity, though it always impressed his family, which accepted him
as king.
Phellion, his two sons, and his wife and daughter, rose and received
the circular bow made by the lawyer.
"To what do we owe the honor of your visit, monsieur?" asked Phellion,
stiffly.
"To your importance in this arrondissement, my dear Monsieur Phellion,
and to public interests," replied Theodose.
"Then let us go into my study," said Phellion.
"No, no, my friend," said the rigid Madame Phellion, a small woman,
flat as a flounder, who retained upon her features the grim severity
with which she taught music in boarding-schools for young ladies; "we
will leave you."
An upright Erard piano, placed between the two windows and opposite to
the fireplace, showed the constant occupation of a proficient.
"Am I so unfortunate as to put you to flight?" said Theodose, smiling
in a kindly way at the mother and daughter. "You have a delightful
retreat here," he continued. "You only lack a pretty daughter-in-law
to pass the rest of your days in this 'aurea mediocritas,' the wish of
the Latin poet, surrounded by family joys. Your antecedents, my dear
Monsieur Phellion, ought surely to win you such rewards, for I am told
that you are not only a patriot but a good citizen."
"Monsieur," said Phellion, embarrassed, "monsieur, I have only done my
duty." At the word "daughter-in-law," uttered by Theodose, Madame
Barniol, who resembled her mother as much as one drop of water is like
another, looked at Madame Phellion and at Felix as if she would say,
"Were we mistaken?"
The desire to talk this incident over carried all four personages into
the garden, for, in March, 1840, the weather was spring-like, at least
in Paris.
"Commander," said Theodose, as soon as he was alone with Phellion, who
was always flattered by that title, "I have come to speak to you about
the election--"
"Yes, true; we are about to nominate a municipal councillor," said
Phellion, interrupting him.
"And it is apropos of that candidacy that I have come to disturb your
Sunday joys; but perhaps in so doing we shall not go beyond the limits
of the family circle."
It would be impossible for Phellion to be more Phellion than Theodose
was Phellion at that moment.
"I shall not let you say another word," replied the commander,
profiting by the pause made by Theodose, who watched for the effect of
his speech. "My choice is made."
"We have had the same idea!" exclaimed Theodose; "men of the same
character agree as well as men of the same mind."
"In this case I do not believe in that phenomenon," replied Phellion.
"This arrondissement had for its representative in the municipal
council the most virtuous of men, as he was the noblest of
magistrates. I allude to the late Monsieur Popinot, the deceased judge
of the Royal courts. When the question of replacing him came up, his
nephew, the heir to his benevolence, did not reside in this quarter.
He has since, however, purchased, and now occupies, the house where
his uncle lived in the rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve; he is the
physician of the Ecole Polytechnique and that of our hospitals; he
does honor to this quarter; for these reasons, and to pay homage in
the person of the nephew to the memory of the uncle, we have decided
to nominate Doctor Horace Bianchon, member of the Academy of Sciences,
as you are aware, and one of the most distinguished young men in the
illustrious faculty of Paris. A man is not great in our eyes solely
because he is celebrated; to my mind the late Councillor Popinot was
almost another Saint Vincent de Paul."
"But a doctor is not an administrator," replied Theodose; "and,
besides, I have come to ask your vote for a man to whom your dearest
interests require that you should sacrifice a predilection, which,
after all, is quite unimportant to the public welfare."
"Monsieur!" cried Phellion, rising and striking an attitude like that
of Lafon in "Le Glorieux," "Do you despise me sufficiently to suppose
that my personal interests could ever influence my political
conscience? When a matter concerns the public welfare, I am a citizen
--nothing more, and nothing less."
Theodose smiled to himself at the thought of the battle which was now
to take place between the father and the citizen.
"Do not bind yourself to your present ideas, I entreat you," he said,
"for this matter concerns the happiness of your dear Felix."
"What do you mean by those words?" asked Phellion, stopping short in
the middle of the salon and posing, with his hand thrust through the
bosom of his waistcoat from right to left, in the well-known attitude
of Odilon Barrot.
"I have come in behalf of our mutual friend, the worthy and excellent
Monsieur Thuillier, whose influence on the destiny of that beautiful
Celeste Colleville must be well known to you. If, as I think, your
son, whose merits are incontestable, and of whom both families may
well be proud, if, I say, he is courting Celeste with a view to a
marriage in which all expediencies may be combined, you cannot do more
to promote that end than to obtain Thuillier's eternal gratitude by
proposing your worthy friend to the suffrages of your fellow-citizens.
As for me, though I have lately come into the quarter, I can, thanks
to the influence I enjoy through certain legal benefits done to the
poor, materially advance his interests. I might, perhaps, have put
myself forward for this position; but serving the poor brings in but
little money; and, besides, the modesty of my life is out of keeping
with such distinctions. I have devoted myself, monsieur, to the
service of the weak, like the late Councillor Popinot,--a sublime man,
as you justly remarked. If I had not already chosen a career which is
in some sort monastic, and precludes all idea of marriage and public
office, my taste, my second vocation, would lead me to the service of
God, to the Church. I do not trumpet what I do, like the
philanthropists; I do not write about it; I simply act; I am pledged
to Christian charity. The ambition of our friend Thuillier becoming
known to me, I have wished to contribute to the happiness of two young
people who seem to me made for each other, by suggesting to you the
means of winning the rather cold heart of Monsieur Thuillier."
Phellion was bewildered by this tirade, admirably delivered; he was
dazzled, attracted; but he remained Phellion; he walked up to the
lawyer and held out his hand, which la Peyrade took.
"Monsieur," said the commander, with emotion, "I have misjudged you.
What you have done me the honor to confide to me will die _there_,"
laying his hand on his heart. "You are one of the men of whom we have
too few,--men who console us for many evils inherent in our social
state. Righteousness is seen so seldom that our too feeble natures
distrust appearances. You have in me a friend, if you will allow me
the honor of assuming that title. But you must learn to know me,
monsieur. I should lose my own esteem if I nominated Thuillier. No, my
son shall never own his happiness to an evil action on his father's
part. I shall not change my candidate because my son's interests
demand it. That is civic virtue, monsieur."
La Peyrade pulled out his handkerchief and rubbed it in his eye so
that it drew a tear, as he said, holding out his hand to Phellion, and
turning aside his head:--
"Ah! monsieur, how sublime a struggle between public and private duty!
Had I come here only to see this sight, my visit would not have been
wasted. You cannot do otherwise! In your place, I should do the same.
You are that noblest thing that God has made--a righteous man! a
citizen of the Jean-Jacques type! With many such citizens, oh France!
my country! what mightest thou become! It is I, monsieur, who solicit,
humbly, the honor to be your friend."
"What can be happening?" said Madame Phellion, watching the scene
through the window. "Do see your father and that horrid man embracing
each other."
Phellion and la Peyrade now came out and joined the family in the
garden.
"My dear Felix," said the old man, pointing to la Peyrade, who was
bowing to Madame Phellion, "be very grateful to that admirable young
man; he will prove most useful to you."
The lawyer walked for about five minutes with Madame Barniol and
Madame Phellion beneath the leafless lindens, and gave them (in
consequence of the embarrassing circumstances created by Phellion's
political obstinacy) a piece of advice, the effects of which were to
bear fruit that evening, while its first result was to make both
ladies admire his talents, his frankness, and his inappreciable good
qualities. When the lawyer departed the whole family conducted him to
the street gate, and all eyes followed him until he had turned the
corner of the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Jacques. Madame Phellion then took
the arm of her husband to return to the salon, saying:--
"Hey! my friend! what does this mean? You, such a good father, how can
you, from excessive delicacy, stand in the way of such a fine marriage
for our Felix?"
"My dear," replied Phellion, "the great men of antiquity, Brutus and
others, were never fathers when called upon to be citizens. The
bourgeoisie has, even more than the aristocracy whose place it has
been called upon to take, the obligations of the highest virtues.
Monsieur de Saint-Hilaire did not think of his lost arm in presence of
the dead Turenne. We must give proof of our worthiness; let us give it
at every state of the social hierarchy. Shall I instruct my family in
the highest civic principles only to ignore them myself at the moment
for applying them? No, my dear; weep, if you must, to-day, but
to-morrow you will respect me," he added, seeing tears in the eyes of
his starched better half.
These noble words were said on the sill of the door, above which was
written, "Aurea mediocritas."
"I ought to have put, 'et digna,'" added Phellion, pointing to the
tablet, "but those two words would
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