The Confession of a Child of the CenturyMusset, Alfred de
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The Confession of a Child of the Century
Musset, Alfred de
French fiction; Historical fiction
As at a glance from the sun the snows descend the mountains and the
glaciers that threatened heaven melt into streams in the valley, so there
descended into my heart a stream that overflowed its banks. Repentance is
a pure incense; it exhaled from all my suffering. Although I had almost
committed a crime when my hand was arrested, I felt that my heart was
innocent. In an instant calm, self-possession, reason returned; I again
approached the bed; I leaned over my idol and kissed the crucifix.
"Sleep in peace," I said to her, "God watches over you! While your lips
were parting in a smile, you were in greater danger than you have ever
known before. But the hand that threatened you will harm no one; I swear
by the faith you profess, I will not kill either you or myself! I am a
fool, a madman, a child who thinks himself a man. God be praised! You are
young and beautiful. You live and you will forget me. You will recover
from the evil I have done you, if you can forgive me. Sleep in peace
until day, Brigitte, and then decide our fate; whatever sentence you
pronounce, I will submit without complaint. And thou, Lord, who hast
saved me, grant me pardon. I was born in an impious century, and I have
many crimes to expiate. Thou Son of God, whom men forget, I have not been
taught to love Thee. I have never worshiped in Thy temples, but I thank
heaven that where I find Thee, I tremble and bow in reverence. I have at
least kissed with my lips a heart that is full of Thee. Protect that
heart so long as life lasts; dwell within it, Thou Holy One; a poor
unfortunate has been brave enough to defy death at the sight of Thy
suffering and Thy death; though impious, Thou hast saved him from evil;
if he had believed, Thou wouldst have consoled him. Pardon those who have
made him incredulous since Thou hast made him repentant; pardon those who
blaspheme! When they were in despair they did not see Thee! Human joys
are a mockery; they are scornful and pitiless; O Lord! the happy of this
world think they have no need of Thee! Pardon them. Although their pride
may outrage Thee, they will be, sooner or later, baptized in tears; grant
that they may cease to believe in any other shelter from the tempest,
than Thy love, and spare them the severe lessons of unhappiness. Our
wisdom and skepticism are in our hands but children's toys; forgive us
for dreaming that we can defy Thee, Thou who smilest at Golgotha. The
worst result of all our vain misery is that it tempts us to forget Thee.
But Thou knowest that it is all but a shadow, which a glance from Thee
can dissipate. Hast not Thou Thyself been a man? It was sorrow that made
Thee God; sorrow is an instrument of torture by which Thou hast mounted
to the very throne of God, Thy Father, and it is sorrow that leads us to
Thee as it led Thee to Thy Father; we come to Thee with our crown of
thorns and kneel before Thy mercy-seat; we touch Thy bleeding feet with
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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