LITMIR.BIZ

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definite principle of action I have drifted at random, my life

       without plan—I have been a mere trivial man of pleasure.

       “Your life shall be more complete, if you will only follow my

       advice.

       “What, indeed, may not a man of this age become if he have the good

       sense and energy to conform his life rigidly to his belief!

       “I merely state the question, you must solve it; I can leave you

       only some cursory ideas, which I am satisfied are just, and upon

       which you may meditate at your leisure. Only for fools or the weak

       does materialism become a debasing dogma; assuredly, in its code

       there are none of those precepts of ordinary morals which our

       fathers entitled virtue; but I do find there a grand word which may

       well counterbalance many others, that is to say, Honor, self-esteem!

       Unquestionably a materialist may not be a saint; but he can be a

       gentleman, which is something. You have happy gifts, my son, and I

       know of but one duty that you have in the world—that of developing

       those gifts to the utmost, and through them to enjoy life

       unsparingly. Therefore, without scruple, use woman for your

       pleasure, man for your advancement; but under no circumstances do

       anything ignoble.

       “In order that ennui shall not drive you, like myself, prematurely

       from the world so soon as the season for pleasure shall have ended,

       you should leave the emotions of ambition and of public life for the

       gratification of your riper age. Do not enter into any engagements

       with the reigning government, and reserve for yourself to hear its

       eulogium made by those who will have subverted it. That is the

       French fashion. Each generation must have its own prey. You will

       soon feel the impulse of the coming generation. Prepare yourself,

       from afar, to take the lead in it.

       “In politics, my son, you are not ignorant that we all take our

       principles from our temperament. The bilious are demagogues, the

       sanguine, democrats, the nervous, aristocrats. You are both

       sanguine and nervous, an excellent constitution, for it gives you a

       choice. You may, for example, be an aristocrat in regard to

       yourself personally, and, at the same time, a democrat in relation

       to others; and in that you will not be exceptional.

       “Make yourself master of every question likely to interest your

       contemporaries, but do not become absorbed in any yourself. In

       reality, all principles are indifferent—true or false according to

       the hour and circumstance. Ideas are mere instruments with which

       you should learn to play seasonably, so as to sway men. In that

       path, likewise, you will have associates.

       “Know, my son, that having attained my age, weary of all else, you

       will have need of strong sensations. The sanguinary diversions of

       revolution will then be for you the same as a love-affair at twenty.

       “But I am fatigued, my son, and shall recapitulate. To be loved by

       women, to be feared by men, to be as impassive and as imperturbable

       as a god before the tears of the one and the blood of the other, and

       to end in a whirlwind—such has been the lot in which I have failed,

       but which, nevertheless, I bequeath to you. With your great

       faculties you, however, are capable of accomplishing it, unless

       indeed you should fail through some ingrained weakness of the heart

       that I have noticed in you, and which, doubtless, you have imbibed

       with your mother’s milk.

       “So long as man shall be born of woman, there will be something

       faulty and incomplete in his character. In fine, strive to relieve

       yourself from all thraldom, from all natural instincts, affections,

       and sympathies as from so many fetters upon your liberty, your

       strength.

       “Do not marry unless some superior interest shall impel you to do

       so. In that event, have no children.

       “Have no intimate friends. Caesar having grown old, had a friend.

       It was Brutus!

       “Contempt for men is the beginning of wisdom.

       “Change somewhat your style of fencing, it is altogether too open,

       my son. Do not get angry. Rarely laugh, and never weep. Adieu.

       “CAMORS.”

      The feeble rays of dawn had passed through the slats of the blinds. The matin birds began their song in the chestnut-tree near the window. M. de Camors raised his head and listened in an absent mood to the sound which astonished him. Seeing that it was daybreak, he folded in some haste the pages he had just finished, pressed his seal upon the envelope, and addressed it, “For the Comte Louis de Camors.” Then he rose.

      M. de Camors was a great lover of art, and had carefully preserved a magnificent ivory carving of the sixteenth century, which had belonged to his wife. It was a Christ the pallid white relieved by a medallion of dark velvet.

      His eye, meeting this pale, sad image, was attracted to it for a moment with strange fascination. Then he smiled bitterly, seized one of the pistols with a firm hand and pressed it to his temple.

      A shot resounded through the house; the fall of a heavy body shook the floor-fragments of brains strewed the carpet. The Comte de Camors had plunged into eternity!

      His last will was clenched in his hand.

      To whom was this document addressed? Upon what kind of soil will these seeds fall?

      At this time Louis de Camors was twenty-seven years old. His mother had died young. It did not appear that she had been particularly happy with her husband; and her son barely remembered her as a young woman, pretty and pale, and frequently weeping, who used to sing him to sleep in a low, sweet voice. He had been brought up chiefly by his father’s mistress, who was known as the Vicomtesse d’Oilly, a widow, and a rather good sort of woman. Her natural sensibility, and the laxity of morals then reigning at Paris, permitted her to occupy herself at the same time with the happiness of the father and the education of the son. When the father deserted her after a time, he left her the child, to comfort her somewhat by this mark of confidence and affection. She took him out three times a week; she dressed him and combed him; she fondled him and took him with her to church, and made him play with a handsome Spaniard, who had been for some time her secretary. Besides, she neglected no opportunity of inculcating precepts of sound morality. Thus the child, being surprised at seeing her one evening press a kiss upon the forehead of her secretary, cried out, with the blunt candor of his age:

      “Why, Madame, do you kiss a gentleman who is not your husband?”

      “Because, my dear,” replied the Countess, “our good Lord commands us to be charitable and affectionate to the poor, the infirm, and the exile; and Monsieur Perez is an

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