France -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
Moralists usually employ their weapons against obstructive
administrations. In their eyes, crime belongs to the assizes or the
police-courts; but the socially refined evils escape their ken; the
adroitness that triumphs under shield of the Code is above them or
beneath them; they have neither eye-glass nor telescope; they want good
stout horrors easily visible. With their eyes fixed on the carnivora,
they pay no attention to the reptiles; happily, they abandon to the
writers of comedy the shading and colorings of a Chardin des Lupeaulx.
Vain and egotistical, supple and proud, libertine and gourmand, grasping
from the pressure of debt, discreet as a tomb out of which nought
issues to contradict the epitaph intended for the passer’s eye, bold and
fearless when soliciting, good-natured and witty in all acceptations
of the word, a timely jester, full of tact, knowing how to compromise
others by a glance or a nudge, shrinking from no mudhole, but gracefully
leaping it, intrepid Voltairean, yet punctual at mass if a fashionable
company could be met in Saint Thomas Aquinas,--such a man as this
secretary-general resembled, in one way or another, all the mediocrities
who form the kernel of the political world. Knowing in the science of
human nature, he assumed the character of a listener, and none was ever
more attentive. Not to awaken suspicion he was flattering ad nauseum,
insinuating as a perfume, and cajoling as a woman.
Des Lupeaulx was just forty years old. His youth had long been a
vexation to him, for he felt that the making of his career depended on
his becoming a deputy. How had he reached his present position? may
be asked. By very simple means. He began by taking charge of certain
delicate missions which can be given neither to a man who respects
himself nor to a man who does not respect himself, but are confided to
grave and enigmatic individuals who can be acknowledged or disavowed
at will. His business was that of being always compromised; but his
fortunes were pushed as much by defeat as by success. He well understood
that under the Restoration, a period of continual compromises between
men, between things, between accomplished facts and other facts looking
on the horizon, it was all-important for the ruling powers to have a
household drudge. Observe in a family some old charwoman who can make
beds, sweep the floors, carry away the dirty linen, who knows where
the silver is kept, how the creditors should be pacified, what persons
should be let in and who must be kept out of the house, and such a
creature, even if she has all the vices, and is dirty, decrepit, and
toothless, or puts into the lottery and steals thirty sous a day for
her stake, and you will find the masters like her from habit, talk and
consult in her hearing upon even critical matters; she comes and goes,
suggests resources, gets on the scent of secrets, brings the rouge
or the shawl at the right moment, lets herself be scolded and pushed
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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