“But, my dear fellow, I said it was a _chef-d’œuvre_ as a joke. It isn’t a _chef-d’œuvre_; it isn’t anything at all. And, for that matter, what does one mean by _chef-d’œuvre_? That’s just what _The Flat Iron_ tries to get to the bottom of. There are heaps of works one admires on faith, just because everyone else does, and because no one so far has thought of saying--or dared to say--that they were stupid. For instance, on the first page of this number, we are going to give a reproduction of the _Monna Lisa_, with a pair of moustaches stuck on to her face. You’ll see! The effect is simply staggering.” “Does that mean you consider the _Monna Lisa_ a stupidity?” “Not at all, my dear fellow. (Though I don’t think it as marvellous as all that.) You don’t understand me. The thing that’s stupid is people’s admiration for it. It’s the habit they have got of speaking of what are called _chefs-d’œuvre_ with bated breath. The object of _The Flat Iron_ (it’s to be the name of the review too) is to make this reverence appear grotesque--to discredit it.... Another good plan is to hold up to the reader’s admiration something absolutely idiotic (my _Nocturnal Vase_ for instance) by an author who is absolutely senseless.” “Does Passavant approve of all this?” “He’s very much amused by it.” “I see I did well to retire.” “Retire!... Sooner or later, old man, willynilly, one always has to end by retiring. This wise reflection naturally leads me to take my leave.” “Stop a moment, you old clown.... What made you say just now that your father played the part of pastor? Don’t you think he is in earnest?” “My revered father has so arranged his life that he hasn’t the right now--or even the power--not to be in earnest. Yes, it’s his profession to be in earnest. He’s a professor of earnestness. He inculcates faith; it’s his _raison d’être_; it’s the rôle he has chosen and he must go through with it to the very end. But as for knowing what goes on in what he calls his ‘inner consciousness’ ... it would be indiscreet to enquire. And I don’t think he ever enquires himself. He manages in such a way that he never has time to. He has crammed his life full of a lot of obligations which would lose all meaning if his conviction failed; so that in a manner they necessitate his conviction and at the same time keep it going. He imagines he believes, because he continues to act as if he did. If his faith failed, my dear fellow, why, it would be a catastrophic collapse! And reflect, that at the same time my family would cease to have anything to live on. That’s a fact that must be taken into consideration, old boy. Papa’s faith is our means of subsistence. So that to come and ask me if Papa’s faith is genuine, is not, you must admit, a very tactful proceeding on your part.” “I thought you lived chiefly on what the school brings in.” “Yes; there’s some truth in that. But that’s not very tactful either--to cut me short in my lyrical flights.”