The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

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