The Confession of a Child of the Century | Page 9

When the oppressor said: "This world for
me!" the oppressed replied: "Heaven for me!" Now what can he say?
All the evils of the present come from two causes: the people who have
passed through 1793 and 1814 nurse wounds in their hearts. That which
was is no more; what will be, is not yet. Do not seek elsewhere the
cause of our malady.
Here is a man whose house falls in ruins; he has torn it down in order to
build another. The rubbish encumbers the spot, and he waits for new
materials for his new home. At the moment he has prepared to cut the
stone and mix the cement, while standing pick in hand with sleeves
rolled up, he is informed that there is no more stone, and is advised to
whiten the old material and make the best possible use of that. What

can you expect this man to do who is unwilling to build his nest out of
ruins? The quarry is deep, the tools too weak to hew out the stones.
"Wait!" they say to him, "we will draw out the stones one by one; hope,
work, advance, withdraw." What do they not tell him? And in the mean
time he has lost his old house, and has not yet built the new; he does
not know where to protect himself from the rain, or how to prepare his
evening meal, nor where to work, nor where to sleep, nor where to die;
and his children are newly born.
I am much deceived if we do not resemble that man. Oh! people of the
future! when on a warm summer day you bend over your plows in the
green fields of your native land; when you see in the pure sunlight,
under a spotless sky, the earth, your fruitful mother, smiling in her
matutinal robe on the workman, her well-beloved child; when drying
on your brow the holy baptism of sweat, you cast your eye over the
vast horizon, where there will not be one blade higher than another in
the human harvest, but only violets and marguerites in the midst of
ripening ears; oh! free men! when you thank God that you were born
for that harvest, think of those who are no more, tell yourself that we
have dearly purchased the repose which you enjoy; pity us more than
all your fathers, for we have suffered the evil which entitled them to
pity and we have lost that which consoled them.
CHAPTER III
THE BEGINNING OF THE CONFESSIONS
I have to explain how I was first taken with the malady of the age.
I was at table, at a great supper, after a masquerade. About me were my
friends, richly costumed, on all sides young men and women, all
sparkling with beauty and joy; on the right and on the left exquisite
dishes, flagons, splendor, flowers; above my head was an obstreperous
orchestra, and before me my loved one, whom I idolized.
I was then nineteen; I had passed through no great misfortune, I had
suffered from no disease; my character was at once haughty and frank,
my heart full of the hopes of youth. The fumes of wine fermented in

my head; it was one of those moments of intoxication when all that one
sees and hears speaks to one of the well-beloved. All nature appeared a
beautiful stone with a thousand facets, on which was engraven the
mysterious name. One would willingly embrace all who smile, and feel
that he is brother of all who live. My mistress had granted me a
rendezvous, and I was gently raising my glass to my lips while my eyes
were fixed on her.
As I turned to take a napkin, my fork fell. I stooped to pick it up, and
not finding it at first I raised the table cloth to see where it had rolled. I
then saw under the table my mistress's foot; it touched that of a young
man seated beside her; from time to time they exchanged a gentle
pressure.
Perfectly calm, I asked for another fork and continued my supper. My
mistress and her neighbor, on their side, were very quiet, talking but
little and never looking at each other. The young man had his elbows
on the table and was chatting with another woman, who was showing
him her necklace and bracelets. My mistress sat motionless, her eyes
fixed and swimming with languor. I watched both of them during the
entire supper, and I saw nothing either in their gestures or in their faces
that could betray them. Finally, at dessert, I dropped my napkin, and
stooping down saw that they were still in the same position.
I had promised to escort my mistress to her home that night.