The Sin of Monsieur Antoine, Volume 1 (of 2)Sand, George
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The Sin of Monsieur Antoine, Volume 1 (of 2)
Sand, George
French fiction -- 19th century
"And now that the problems suggested by his ideal are beginning to
approach a solution in the minds of some of us, how is it that we are
taxed with madness because we see and believe what will be seen and
believed by all men a hundred years hence? Be assured therefore that it
is not necessary to be a poet or a seer to be perfectly convinced of the
reality of what you are pleased to call sublime dreams. To be sure,
truth is sublime, and the men who discover it are sublime as well. But
they who, having received it and touched it, conform their lives to it
as an excellent thing, have not really the right to be proud; for if,
when they have once understood it, they reject it, they would be nothing
less than idiots or madmen."
Monsieur de Boisguilbault spoke with a facility most extraordinary for
him, and he might have talked on for a long while before the stupefied
Emile would have thought of interrupting him.
Emile would never have believed that what he called his faith and his
ideal could bloom in so cold and apathetic a mind, and he asked himself
at first if it were not enough to sicken himself with it to find himself
in the company of such an adept. But, little by little, notwithstanding
his moderate way of speaking, the monotony of his accent and the
immobility of his features, Monsieur de Boisguilbault acquired an
extraordinary influence over him. That impassive man seemed to him an
embodiment of the living law, the voice of destiny pronouncing its
decrees over the abyss of eternity.
The solitude of that beautiful spot, the cloudless sky which, as the
afterglow faded, seemed to raise its blue vault higher and higher toward
the empyrean, the darkness gathering under the great trees, and the
murmur of the rippling stream, which seemed in its placid continuity,
the natural accompaniment of that calm, even voice--all combined to
plunge Emile into a profound emotion akin to the mysterious awe which
the response of the oracle in the sacred oaks must have produced in the
youthful neophytes.
"Monsieur de Boisguilbault," said the young man, deeply impressed by
what he had heard, "I cannot better express my submission to your
enlightened views than by asking your pardon, from the bottom of my
heart, for the way in which I extorted them from you. I was far from
believing that you entertained such ideas, and I was drawn toward you by
curiosity rather than by respect. But be sure that you will find in me
henceforth the devotion of a son if you deem me worthy to manifest it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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