“A doctrine has been bequeathed us,” he said. “It has already traversed many centuries. It is assuredly the best--the only one. The duty of each one of us is to prove this truth. It has been handed down to us by our masters. It is our country’s and every time she repudiates it, she has to pay for her error dearly. No one can be a good Frenchman without holding it, nor succeed in anything good without conforming to it.” To this second orator succeeded a third, who thanked the other two for having so ably traced what he called the theory of their programme; then he set forth that this programme consisted in nothing less than the regeneration of France, which was to be brought about by the united efforts of each single member of their party. He himself, he declared, was a man of action; he affirmed that the end and proof of every theory is in its practice, and that the duty of every good Frenchman is to be a combatant. “But, alas!” he added, “how many isolated efforts are wasted! Our country would be far greater, our activity would be far more wide-spread, all that is best in us would be brought forward, if every effort were co-ordinated, if every act contributed to the glory of law and order, if everyone were willing to serve in the ranks.” And while he was speaking, a number of young men went round the audience, distributing printed forms of membership, which had only to be signed. “You wanted to offer yourself,” said the angel then. “What are you waiting for?” Bernard took one of the papers which were handed him; it began with these words: “I solemnly pledge myself to....” He read it, then looked at the angel and saw that he was smiling; then he looked at the meeting and recognized among the young men present, the schoolfellow whom he had seen just before in the church, burning a candle in gratitude for having passed his examination; and suddenly, further on, he caught sight of his eldest brother, whom he had not seen since he had left home. Bernard did not like him and was a little jealous of the consideration with which their father seemed to treat him. He crumpled the paper nervously in his hand. “Do you think I ought to sign?” “Yes,” said the angel, “certainly--if you have doubts of yourself.” “I doubt no longer,” said Bernard, flinging the paper from him. In the mean time the orator was still speaking. When Bernard began to listen to him again, he was teaching an infallible method for never making a mistake, which was to give up ever forming a judgment for oneself and always to defer to the judgments of one’s superiors. “And who are these superiors?” asked Bernard; and suddenly a great indignation seized him. “If you went on to the platform,” he said to the angel, “and grappled with him, you would be sure to throw him....” “It is with _you_ I will wrestle. This evening. Do you agree...?” “Yes,” said Bernard.