CHAPTER X.
LESSONS IN ART AND SCIENCE.
They procured a number of works relating to education, and resolved toadopt a system of their own. It was necessary to banish everymetaphysical idea, and, in accordance with the experimental method, tofollow in the lines of natural development. There was no haste, for thetwo pupils might forget what they had learned.
Though they had strong constitutions, Pecuchet wished, like a Spartan,to make them more hardy, to accustom them to hunger, thirst, and severeweather, and even insisted on having their feet badly shod in order thatthey might be prepared for colds. Bouvard was opposed to this.
The dark closet at the end of the corridor was used as their sleepingapartment. Its furniture consisted of two folding beds, two couches, anda jug. Above their heads the top window was open, and spiders crawledalong the plaster. Often the children recalled to mind the interior of acabin where they used to wrangle. One night their father came home withblood on his hands. Some time afterwards the gendarmes arrived. Afterthat they lived in a wood. Men who made wooden shoes used to kiss theirmother. She died, and was carried off in a cart. They used to get severebeatings; they got lost. Then they could see once more Madame de Noaresand Sorel; and, without asking themselves the reason why they were inthis house, they felt happy there. But they were disagreeably surprisedwhen at the end of eight months the lessons began again. Bouvard tookcharge of the little girl, and Pecuchet of the boy.
Victor was able to distinguish letters, but did not succeed in formingsyllables. He stammered over them, then stopped suddenly, and lookedlike an idiot. Victorine put questions. How was it that "ch" in"orchestra" had the sound of a "q," and that of a "k" in "archaeology."We must sometimes join two vowels and at other times separate them. Allthis did not seem to her right. She grew indignant at it.
The teachers gave instruction at the same hour in their respectiveapartments, and, as the partition was thin, these four voices, one soft,one deep, and two sharp, made a hideous concert. To finish the businessand to stimulate the youngsters by means of emulation, they conceivedthe idea of making them work together in the museum; and they proceededto teach them writing. The two pupils, one at each end of the table,copied written words that were set for them; but the position of theirbodies was awkward. It was necessary to straighten them; their copybooksfell down; their pens broke, and their ink bottles were turned upsidedown.
Victorine, on certain days, went on capitally for about three minutes,then she would begin to scrawl, and, seized with discouragement, shewould sit with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Victor was not long beforehe fell asleep, lying over his desk.
Perhaps they were distressed by it? Too great a strain was bad for youngheads.
"Let us stop," said Bouvard.
There is nothing so stupid as to make children learn by heart; yet, ifthe memory is not exercised, it will go to waste, and so they taught theyoungsters to recite like parrots the first fables of La Fontaine. Thechildren expressed their approval of the ant that heaped up treasure, ofthe wolf that devoured the lamb, and of the lion that took everyone'sshare.
When they had become more audacious, they spoiled the garden. But whatamusement could be provided for them?
Jean Jacques Rousseau in _Emile_ advises the teacher to get the pupil tomake his own playthings. Bouvard could not contrive to make a hoop orPecuchet to sew up a ball. They passed on to toys that were instructive,such as cut-paper work. Pecuchet showed them his microscope. When thecandle was lighted, Bouvard would sketch with the shadow of his fingeron the wall the profile of a hare or a pig. But the pupils grew tired ofit.
Writers have gone into raptures about the delightfulness of an open-airluncheon or a boating excursion. Was it possible for them really to havesuch recreations? Fenelon recommends from time to time "an innocentconversation." They could not invent one. So they had to come back tothe lessons--the multiplying bowls, the erasures of their scrawlings,and the process of teaching them how to read by copying printedcharacters. All had proved failures, when suddenly a bright idea struckthem.
As Victor was prone to gluttony, they showed him the name of a dish: hesoon ran through _Le Cuisinier Francais_ with ease. Victorine, being acoquette, was promised a new dress if she wrote to the dressmaker forit: in less than three weeks she accomplished this feat. This wasplaying on their vices--a pernicious method, no doubt; but it hadsucceeded.
Now that they had learned to read and write, what should they be taught?Another puzzle.
Girls have no need of learning, as in the case of boys. All the same,they are usually brought up like mere animals, their sole intellectualbaggage being confined to mystical follies.
Is it expedient to teach them languages? "Spanish and Italian," the Swanof Cambray lays down, "scarcely serve any purpose save to enable peopleto read dangerous books."
Such a motive appeared silly to them. However, Victorine would have todo only with these languages; whereas English is more widely used.Pecuchet proceeded to study the rules of the language. He seriouslydemonstrated the mode of expressing the "th"--"like this, now, _the_,_the_, _the_."
But before instructing a child we must be acquainted with its aptitudes.They may be divined by phrenology. They plunged into it, then sought toverify its assertions by experiments on their own persons. Bouvardexhibited the bumps of benevolence, imagination, veneration, and amorousenergy--_vulgo_, eroticism. On Pecuchet's temples were found philosophyand enthusiasm allied with a crafty disposition. Such, in fact, weretheir characters. What surprised them more was to recognise in the oneas well as in the other a propensity towards friendship, and, charmedwith the discovery, they embraced each other with emotion.
They next made an examination of Marcel. His greatest fault, of whichthey were not ignorant, was an excessive appetite. Nevertheless Bouvardand Pecuchet were dismayed to find above the top of the ear, on a levelwith the eye, the organ of alimentivity. With advancing years theirservant would perhaps become like the woman in the Salpetriere, whoevery day ate eight pounds of bread, swallowed at one time fourteendifferent soups, and at another sixty bowls of coffee. They might nothave enough to keep him.
The heads of their pupils presented no curious characteristics. No doubtthey had gone the wrong way to work with them. A very simple expedientenabled them to develop their experience.
On market days they insinuated themselves among groups of country peopleon the green, amid the sacks of oats, the baskets of cheese, the calvesand the horses, indifferent to the jostlings; and whenever they found ayoung fellow with his father, they asked leave to feel his skull for ascientific purpose. The majority vouchsafed no reply; others, fancyingit was pomatum for ringworm of the scalp, refused testily. A few,through indifference, allowed themselves to be led towards the porch ofthe church, where they would be undisturbed.
One morning, just as Bouvard and Pecuchet were beginning operations, thecure suddenly presented himself, and seeing what they were about,denounced phrenology as leading to materialism and to fatalism. Thethief, the assassin, the adulterer, have henceforth only to cast theblame of their crimes on their bumps.
Bouvard retorted that the organ predisposes towards the act withoutforcing one to do it. From the fact that a man has in him the germ of avice, there is nothing to show that he will be vicious.
"However, I wonder at the orthodox, for, while upholding innate ideas,they reject propensities. What a contradiction!"
But phrenology, according to M. Jeufroy, denied Divine Omnipotence, andit was unseemly to practise under the shadow of the holy place, in thevery face of the altar.
"Take yourselves off! No!--take yourselves off!"
They established themselves in the shop of Ganot, the hairdresser.Bouvard and Pecuchet went so far as to treat their subjects' relationsto a shave or a clip. One afternoon the doctor came to get his hair cut.While seating himself in the armchair he saw in the glass the reflectionof the two phrenologists passing their fingers over a child's pate.
"So you are at the
se fooleries?" he said.
"Why foolery?"
Vaucorbeil smiled contemptuously, then declared that there were notseveral organs in the brain. Thus one man can digest food which anothercannot digest. Are we to assume that there are as many stomachs in thestomach as there are varieties of taste?
They pointed out that one kind of work is a relaxation after another; anintellectual effort does not strain all the faculties at the same time;each has its distinct seat.
"The anatomists have not discovered it," said Vaucorbeil.
"That's because they have dissected badly," replied Pecuchet.
"What?"
"Oh, yes! they cut off slices without regard to the connection of theparts"--a phrase out of a book which recurred to his mind.
"What a piece of nonsense!" exclaimed the physician. "The cranium is notmoulded over the brain, the exterior over the interior. Gall ismistaken, and I defy you to justify his doctrine by taking at randomthree persons in the shop."
The first was a country woman, with big blue eyes.
Pecuchet, looking at her, said:
"She has a good memory."
Her husband attested the fact, and offered himself for examination.
"Oh! you, my worthy fellow, it is hard to lead you."
According to the others, there was not in the world such a headstrongfellow.
The third experiment was made on a boy who was accompanied by hisgrandmother.
Pecuchet observed that he must be fond of music.
"I assure you it is so," said the good woman. "Show these gentlemen,that they may see for themselves."
He drew a Jew's-harp from under his blouse and began blowing into it.
There was a crashing sound--it was the violent slamming of the door bythe doctor as he went out.
They were no longer in doubt about themselves, and summoning their twopupils, they resumed the analysis of their skull-bones.
That of Victorine was even all around, a sign of ponderation; but herbrother had an unfortunate cranium--a very large protuberance in themastoid angle of the parietal bones indicated the organ ofdestructiveness, of murder; and a swelling farther down was the sign ofcovetousness, of theft. Bouvard and Pecuchet remained dejected for eightdays.
But it was necessary to comprehend the exact sense of words: what wecall combativeness implies contempt for death. If it causes homicides,it may, likewise bring about the saving of lives. Acquisitivenessincludes the tact of pickpockets and the ardour of merchants.Irreverence has its parallel in the spirit of criticism, craft incircumspection. An instinct always resolves itself into two parts, a badone and a good one. The one may be destroyed by cultivating the other,and by this system a daring child, far from being a vagabond, may becomea general. The sluggish man will have only prudence; the penurious,economy; the extravagant, generosity.
A magnificent dream filled their minds. If they carried to a successfulend the education of their pupils, they would later found anestablishment having for its object to correct the intellect, to subduetempers, and to ennoble the heart. Already they talked aboutsubscriptions and about the building.
Their triumph in Ganot's shop had made them famous, and people came toconsult them in order that they might tell them their chances of goodluck.
All sorts of skulls were examined for this purpose--bowl-shaped,pear-shaped, those rising like sugar loaves, square heads, high heads,contracted skulls and flat skulls, with bulls' jaws, birds' faces, andeyes like pigs'; but such a crowd of people disturbed the hairdresser inhis work. Their elbows rubbed against the glass cupboard that containedthe perfumery, they put the combs out of order, the wash-hand stand wasbroken; so he turned out all the idlers, begging of Bouvard and Pecuchetto follow them, an ultimatum which they unmurmuringly accepted, being alittle worn out with cranioscopy.
Next day, as they were passing before the little garden of the captain,they saw, chatting with him, Girbal, Coulon, the keeper, and his youngerson, Zephyrin, dressed as an altar-boy. His robe was quite new, and hewas walking below before returning to the sacristy, and they werecomplimenting him.
Curious to know what they thought of him, Placquevent asked "thesegentlemen" to feel his young man's head.
The skin of his forehead looked tightly drawn; his nose, thin and verygristly at the tip, drooped slantwise over his pinched lips; his chinwas pointed, his expression evasive, and his right shoulder was toohigh.
"Take off your cap," said his father to him.
Bouvard slipped his hands through his straw-coloured hair; then it wasPecuchet's turn, and they communicated to each other their observationsin low tones:
"Evident _love of books_! Ha! ha! _approbativeness_! _Conscientiousness_wanting! No _amativeness_!"
"Well?" said the keeper.
Pecuchet opened his snuff-box, and took a pinch.
"Faith!" replied Bouvard, "this is scarcely a genius."
Placquevent reddened with humiliation.
"All the same, he will do my bidding."
"Oho! Oho!"
"But I am his father, by God! and I have certainly the right----"
"Within certain limits," observed Pecuchet.
Girbal interposed. "The paternal authority is indispensable."
"But if the father is an idiot?"
"No matter," said the captain; "his power is none the less absolute."
"In the interests of the children," added Coulon.
According to Bouvard and Pecuchet, they owed nothing to the authors oftheir being; and the parents, on the other hand, owed them food,education, forethought--in fact, everything.
Their good neighbours protested against this opinion as immoral.Placquevent was hurt by it as if it were an insult.
"For all that, they are a nice lot that you collect on the high-roads.They will go far. Take care!"
"Care of what?" said Pecuchet sourly.
"Oh! I am not afraid of you."
"Nor I of you either."
Coulon here used his influence to restrain the keeper and induce him togo away quietly.
For some minutes there was silence. Then there was some talk about thedahlias of the captain, who would not let his friends depart till he hadexhibited every one of them.
Bouvard and Pecuchet were returning homeward when, a hundred paces infront of them, they noticed Placquevent; and close beside him Zephyrinwas lifting up his elbow, like a shield, to save his ear from beingboxed.
What they had just heard expressed, in another form, were the opinionsof the count; but the example of their pupils proved how much libertyhad the advantage over coercion. However, a little discipline wasdesirable.
Pecuchet nailed up a blackboard in the museum for the purpose ofdemonstrations. They each resolved to keep a journal wherein the thingsdone by the pupil, noted down every evening, could be read next morning,and, to regulate the work by ringing the bell when it should befinished. Like Dupont de Nemours, they would, at first, make use of thepaternal injunction, then of the military injunction, and familiarity inaddressing them would be forbidden.
Bouvard tried to teach Victorine ciphering. Sometimes he would makemistakes, and both of them would laugh. Then she would kiss him on thepart of his neck which was smoothest and ask leave to go, and he wouldgive his permission.
Pecuchet at the hour for lessons in vain rang the bell and shouted outthe military injunction through the window. The brat did not come. Hissocks were always hanging over his ankles; even at table he thrust hisfingers into his nostrils, and did not even keep in his wind. Broussaisobjects to reprimands on this point on the ground that "it is necessaryto obey the promptings of a conservative instinct."
Victorine and he made use of frightful language, saying, _me itou_instead of _moi aussi_, _bere_ instead of _boire_, _al_ instead of_elle_, and _deventiau_ with the _iau_; but, as grammar cannot beunderstood by children, and as they would learn the use of language byhearing others speak correctly, the two worthy men watched their ownwords till they found it quite distressing.
 
; They held different views about the way to teach geography. Bouvardthought it more logical to begin with the commune, Pecuchet with theentire world.
With a watering-pot and some sand he sought to demonstrate what wasmeant by a river, an island, a gulf, and even sacrificed threeflower-beds to explain three continents; but the cardinal points couldnot be got into Victor's head.
On a night in January Pecuchet carried him off in the open country.While they walked along he held forth on astronomy: mariners find ituseful on their voyages; without it Christopher Columbus would not havemade his discovery. We owe a debt of gratitude to Copernicus, toGalileo, and to Newton.
It was freezing hard, and in the dark blue sky countless stars werescintillating. Pecuchet raised his eyes.
"What! No Ursa Major!"
The last time he had seen it, it was turned to the other side. At lengthhe recognised it, then pointed out the polar star, which is alwaysturned towards the north, and by means of which travellers can find outtheir exact situation.
Next day he placed an armchair in the middle of the room and began towaltz round it.
"Imagine that this armchair is the sun and that I am the earth; it moveslike this."
Victor stared at him, filled with astonishment.
After this he took an orange, passed through it a piece of stick toindicate the poles, then drew a circle across it with charcoal to markthe equator. He next moved the orange round a wax candle, drawingattention to the fact that the various points on the surface were notilluminated at the same time--which causes the difference of climates;and for that of the seasons he sloped the orange, inasmuch as the earthdoes not stand up straight--which brings about the equinoxes and thesolstices.
Victor did not understand a bit of it. He believed that the earth turnsaround in a long needle, and that the equator is a ring pressing itscircumference.
By means of an atlas Pecuchet exhibited Europe to him; but, dazzled byso many lines and colours, he could no longer distinguish the names ofdifferent places. The bays and the mountains did not harmonise with therespective nations; the political order confused the physical order. Allthis, perhaps, might be cleared up by studying history.
It would have been more practical to begin with the village, and go onnext to the arrondissement, the department, and the province; but, asChavignolles had no annals, it was absolutely necessary to stick touniversal history. It was rendered embarrassing by such a variety ofdetails that one ought only to select its beautiful features. For Greekhistory there are: "We shall fight in the shade," the banishment ofAristides by the envious, and the confidence of Alexander in hisphysician. For Roman, the geese of the Capitol, the tripod of Scaevola,the barrel of Regulus. The bed of roses of Guatimozin is noteworthy forAmerica. As for France, it supplies the vase of Soissons, the oak of St.Louis, the death of Joan of Arc, the boiled hen of Bearnais--you haveonly too extensive a field to select from, not to speak of _A moid'Auvergne!_ and the shipwreck of the _Vengeur_.
Victor confused the men, the centuries, and the countries. Pecuchet,however, was not going to plunge him into subtle considerations, and themass of facts is a veritable labyrinth. He confined himself to the namesof the kings of France. Victor forgot them through not knowing thedates. But, if Dumouchel's system of mnemonics had been insufficient forthemselves, what would it be for him! Conclusion: history can be learnedonly by reading a great deal. He would do this.
Drawing is useful where there are numerous details; and Pecuchet wascourageous enough to try to learn it himself from Nature by working atthe landscape forthwith. A bookseller at Bayeux sent him paper,india-rubber, pasteboard, pencils, and fixtures, with a view to theworks, which, framed and glazed, would adorn the museum.
Out of bed at dawn, they started each with a piece of bread in hispocket, and much time was lost in finding a suitable scene. Pecuchetwished to reproduce what he found under his feet, the extreme horizon,and the clouds, all at the same time; but the backgrounds always got thebetter of the foregrounds; the river tumbled down from the sky; theshepherd walked over his flock; and a dog asleep looked as if he werehunting. For his part, he gave it up, remembering that he had read thisdefinition:
"Drawing is composed of three things: line, grain, and fine graining,and, furthermore, the powerful touch. But it is only the master who cangive the powerful touch."
He rectified the line, assisted in the graining process, watched overthe fine graining, and waited for the opportunity of giving the powerfultouch. It never arrived, so incomprehensible was the pupil's landscape.
Victorine, who was very lazy, used to yawn over the multiplicationtable. Mademoiselle Reine showed her how to stitch, and when she wasmarking linen she lifted her fingers so nicely that Bouvard afterwardshad not the heart to torment her with his lesson in ciphering. One ofthese days they would resume it. No doubt arithmetic and sewing arenecessary in a household; but it is cruel, Pecuchet urged, to bring upgirls merely with an eye to the husbands they might marry. Not all ofthem are destined for wedlock; if we wish them later to do without men,we ought to teach them many things.
The sciences can be taught in connection with the commonest objects; forinstance, by telling what wine is made of; and when the explanation wasgiven, Victor and Victorine had to repeat it. It was the same withgroceries, furniture, illumination; but for them light meant the lamp,and it had nothing in common with the spark of a flint, the flame of acandle, the radiance of the moon.
One day Victorine asked, "How is it that wood burns?" Her masters lookedat each other in confusion. The theory of combustion was beyond them.
Another time Bouvard, from the soup to the cheese, kept talking ofnutritious elements, and dazed the two youngsters with fibrine, caseine,fat and gluten.
After this, Pecuchet desired to explain to them how the blood isrenewed, and he became puzzled over the explanation of circulation.
The dilemma is not an easy one; if you start with facts, the simplestrequire proofs that are too involved, and by laying down principlesfirst, you begin with the absolute--faith.
How is it to be solved? By combining the two methods of teaching, therational and the empirical; but a double means towards a single end isthe reverse of method. Ah! so much the worse, then.
To initiate them in natural history, they tried some scientificexcursions.
"You see," said they, pointing towards an ass, a horse, an ox, "beastswith four feet--they are called quadrupeds. As a rule, birds havefeathers, reptiles scales, and butterflies belong to the insect class."
They had a net to catch them with, and Pecuchet, holding the insect updaintily, made them take notice of the four wings, the six claws, thetwo feelers, and of its bony proboscis, which drinks in the nectar offlowers.
He gathered herbs behind the ditches, mentioned their names, and, whenhe did not know them, invented them, in order to keep up his prestige.Besides, nomenclature is the least important thing in botany.
He wrote this axiom on the blackboard: "Every plant has leaves, a calyx,and a corolla enclosing an ovary or pericarp, which contains the seed."Then he ordered his pupils to go looking for plants through the fields,and to collect the first that came to hand.
Victor brought him buttercups; Victorine a bunch of strawberries. Hesearched vainly for the pericarp.
Bouvard, who distrusted his own knowledge, rummaged in the library, anddiscovered in _Le Redoute des Dames_ a sketch of an iris in which theovaries were not situated in the corolla, but beneath the petals in thestem. In their garden were some scratchweeds and lilies-of-the-valley inflower. These rubiaceae had no calyx; therefore the principle laid downon the blackboard was false.
"It is an exception," said Pecuchet.
But chance led to the discovery of a field-madder in the grass, and ithad a calyx.
"Goodness gracious! If the exceptions themselves are not true, what arewe to put any reliance on?"
One day, in one of these excursions, they heard the cries of peacocks,glanced over the wall, and at first did not recognise
their own farm.The barn had a slate roof; the railings were new; the pathways had beenmetalled.
Pere Gouy made his appearance.
"'Tisn't possible! Is it you?"
How many sad stories he had to tell of the past three years, amongstothers the death of his wife! As for himself, he had always been asstrong as an oak.
"Come in a minute."
It was early in April, and in the three fruit-gardens rows of appletrees in full blossom showed their white and red clusters; the sky,which was like blue satin, was perfectly cloudless. Table-cloths,sheets, and napkins hung down, vertically attached to tightly-drawnropes by wooden pins. Pere Gouy lifted them as they passed; and suddenlythey came face to face with Madame Bordin, bareheaded, in adressing-gown, and Marianne offering her armfuls of linen.
"Your servant, gentlemen. Make yourselves at home. As for me, I shallsit down; I am worn out."
The farmer offered to get some refreshment for the entire party.
"Not now," said she; "I am too hot."
Pecuchet consented, and disappeared into the cellar with Pere Gouy,Marianne and Victor.
Bouvard sat down on the grass beside Madame Bordin.
He received the annual payment punctually; he had nothing to complainof; and he wished for nothing more.
The bright sunshine lighted up her profile. One of her black head-bandshad come loose, and the little curls behind her neck clung to her brownskin, moistened with perspiration. With each breath her bosom heaved.The smell of the grass mingled with the odour of her solid flesh, andBouvard felt a revival of his attachment, which filled him with joy.Then he complimented her about her property.
She was greatly charmed with it; and she told him about her plans. Inorder to enlarge the farmyard, she intended to take down the upper bank.
Victorine was at that moment climbing up the slopes, and gatheringprimroses, hyacinths, and violets, without being afraid of an old horsethat was browsing on the grass at her feet.
"Isn't she pretty?" said Bouvard.
"Yes, she is pretty, for a little girl."
And the widow heaved a sigh, which seemed charged with life-long regret.
"You might have had one yourself."
She hung down her head.
"That depended on you."
"How?"
He gave her such a look that she grew purple, as if at the sensation ofa rough caress; but, immediately fanning herself with herpocket-handkerchief:
"You have let the opportunity slip, my dear."
"I don't quite understand." And without rising he drew closer to her.
She remained looking down at him for some time; then smiling, with moisteyes:
"It is your fault."
The sheets, hanging around them, hemmed them in, like the curtains of abed.
He leaned forward on his elbow, so that his face touched her knees.
"Why?--eh?--why?"
And as she remained silent, while he was in a condition in which wordscost nothing, he tried to justify himself; accused himself of folly, ofpride.
"Forgive me! Let everything be as it was before. Do you wish it?" And hecaught her hand, which she allowed to remain in his.
A sudden gust of wind blew up the sheets, and they saw two peacocks, amale and a female. The female stood motionless, with her tail in theair. The male marched around her, erected his tail into a fan andbridled up, making a clucking noise.
Bouvard was clasping the hand of Madame Bordin. She very quickly loosedherself. Before them, open-mouthed and, as it were, petrified, was youngVictor staring at them; a short distance away Victorine, stretched onher back, in the full light of day, was inhaling all the flowers whichshe had gathered.
The old horse, frightened by the peacocks, broke one of the lines with akick, got his legs entangled in it, and, galloping through thefarmyard, dragged the washed linen after him.
At Madame Bordin's wild screams Marianne rushed up. Pere Gouy abused hishorse: "Fool of a beast! Old bag of bones! Infernal thief of ahorse!"--kicked him in the belly, and lashed his ears with the handle ofa whip.
Bouvard was shocked at seeing the animal maltreated.
The countryman, in answer to his protest, said:
"I've a right to do it; he's my own."
This was no justification. And Pecuchet, coming on the scene, added thatanimals too have their rights, for they have souls like ourselves--ifindeed ours have any existence.
"You are an impious man!" exclaimed Madame Bordin.
Three things excited her anger: the necessity for beginning the washingover again, the outrage on her faith, and the fear of having been seenjust now in a compromising attitude.
"I thought you were more liberal," said Bouvard.
She replied, in a magisterial manner, "I don't like scamps."
And Gouy laid the blame on them for having injured his horse, whosenostrils were bleeding. He growled in a smothered voice:
"Damned unlucky people! I was going to put him away when they turnedup."
The two worthies took themselves off, shrugging their shoulders.
Victor asked them why they had been vexed with Gouy.
"He abuses his strength, which is wrong."
"Why is it wrong?"
Could it be that the children had no idea of justice? Perhaps so.
And the same evening, Pecuchet, with Bouvard sitting at his right, andfacing the two pupils with some notes in his hand, began a course oflectures on morality.
"This science teaches us to exercise control over our actions.
"They have two motives--pleasure and interest, and a third, moreimperious--duty.
"Duties are divided into two classes: first, duties towards ourselves,which consist in taking care of our bodies, protecting ourselves againstall injury." (They understood this perfectly.) "Secondly, duties towardsothers; that is to say, to be always loyal, good-natured, and evenfraternal, the human race being only one single family. A thing oftenpleases us which is injurious to our fellows; interest is a differentthing from good, for good is in itself irreducible." (The children didnot comprehend.) He put off the sanction of duties until the nextoccasion.
In the entire lecture, according to Bouvard, he had not defined "good."
"Why do you wish to define it? We feel it."
So, then, the lessons of morality would suit only moral people--andPecuchet's course did not go further.
They made their pupils read little tales tending to inspire them withthe love of virtue. They plagued Victor to death.
In order to strike his imagination, Pecuchet suspended from the walls ofhis apartment representations of the lives of the good person and thebad person respectively. The first, Adolphe, embraced his mother,studied German, assisted a blind man, and was admitted into thePolytechnic School. The bad person, Eugene, began by disobeying hisfather, had a quarrel in a cafe, beat his wife, fell down dead drunk,smashed a cupboard--and a final picture represented him in jail, where agentleman, accompanied by a young lad, pointed him out, saying, "Yousee, my son, the dangers of misconduct."
But for the children, the future had no existence. In vain were theirminds saturated with the maxim that "work is honourable," and that "therich are sometimes unhappy." They had known workmen in no way honoured,and had recollections of the chateau, where life seemed good. The pangsof remorse were depicted for them with so much exaggeration that theysmelled humbug, and after that became distrustful. Attempts were thenmade to govern their conduct by a sense of honour, the idea of publicopinion, and the sentiment of glory, by holding up to their admirationgreat men; above all, men who made themselves useful, like Belzunce,Franklin, and Jacquard. Victor displayed no longing to resemble them.
One day, when he had done a sum in addition without a mistake, Bouvardsewed to his jacket a ribbon to symbolise the Cross. He strutted aboutwith it; but, when he forgot about the death of Henry IV., Pecuchet putan ass's cap on his head. Victor began to bray with so much violence andfor so long a time, that it was found necessary to take off
hispasteboard ears.
Like him, his sister showed herself vain of praise, and indifferent toblame.
In order to make them more sensitive, a black cat was given to them,that they might take care of it; and two or three coppers were presentedto them, so that they might bestow alms. They thought the requirementunjust; this money belonged to them.
In compliance with the wish of the pedagogues, they called Bouvard "myuncle," and Pecuchet "good friend;" but they "thee'd" and "thou'd" them,and half the lessons were usually lost in disputes.
Victorine ill-treated Marcel, mounted on his back, dragged him by thehair. In order to make game of his hare-lip, she spoke through her noselike him; and the poor fellow did not venture to complain, so fond washe of the little girl. One evening his hoarse voice was unusuallyraised. Bouvard and Pecuchet went down to the kitchen. The two pupilswere staring at the chimneypiece, and Marcel, with clasped hands, wascrying out:
"Take him away! It's too much--it's too much!"
The lid of the pot flew off like the bursting of a shell. A greyish massbounded towards the ceiling, then wriggled about frantically, emittingfearful howls.
They recognised the cat, quite emaciated, with its hair gone, its taillike a piece of string, and its dilated eyes starting out of its head.They were as white as milk, vacant, so to speak, and yet glaring.
The hideous animal continued its howling till it flung itself into thefireplace, disappeared, then rolled back in the middle of the cinderslifeless.
It was Victor who had perpetrated this atrocity; and the two worthy menrecoiled, pale with stupefaction and horror. To the reproaches whichthey addressed to him, he replied, as the keeper had done with referenceto his son and the farmer with reference to his horse: "Well! since it'smy own," without ceremony and with an air of innocence, in the placidityof a satiated instinct.
The boiling water from the pot was scattered over the floor, andsaucepans, tongs, and candlesticks lay everywhere thrown about.
Marcel was some time cleaning up the kitchen, and his masters and heburied the poor cat in the garden under the pagoda.
After this Bouvard and Pecuchet had a long chat about Victor. Thepaternal blood was showing itself. What were they to do? To give himback to M. de Faverges or to entrust him to others would be an admissionof impotence. Perhaps he would reform.
No matter! It was a doubtful hope; and they no longer felt anytenderness towards him. What a pleasure it would have been, however, tohave near them a youth interested in their ideas, whose progress theycould watch, who would by and by have become a brother to them! ButVictor lacked intellect, and heart still more. And Pecuchet sighed, withhis hands clasped over his bent knee.
"The sister is not much better," said Bouvard.
He pictured to himself a girl of nearly fifteen years, with a refinednature, a playful humour, adorning the house with the elegant tastes ofa young lady; and, as if he had been her father and she had just died,the poor man began to weep.
Then, seeking an excuse for Victor, he quoted Rousseau's opinion: "Thechild has no responsibility, and cannot be moral or immoral."
Pecuchet's view was that these children had reached the age ofdiscretion, and that they should study some method whereby they could becorrected. Bentham lays down that a punishment, in order to beeffectual, should be in proportion to the offence--its naturalconsequence. The child has broken a pane of glass--a new one will not beput in: let him suffer from cold. If, not being hungry any longer, heasks to be served again, give way to him: a fit of indigestion willquickly make him repent. Suppose he is lazy--let him remain withoutwork: boredom of itself will make him go back to it.
But Victor would not endure cold; his constitution could stand excesses;and doing nothing would agree with him.
They adopted the reverse system: medicinal punishment. Impositions weregiven to him; he only became more idle. They deprived him of sweetthings; his greediness for them redoubled. Perhaps irony might havesuccess with him? On one occasion, when he came to breakfast with dirtyhands, Bouvard jeered at him, calling him a "gay cavalier," a "dandy,""yellow gloves." Victor listened with lowering brow, suddenly turnedpale, and flung his plate at Bouvard's head; then, wild at having missedhim, made a rush at him. It took three men to hold him. He rolledhimself on the floor, trying to bite. Pecuchet, at some distance,sprinkled water over him out of a carafe: he immediately calmed down;but for two days he was hoarse. The method had not proved of any use.
They adopted another. At the least symptom of anger, treating him as ifhe were ill, they put him to bed. Victor was quite contented there, andshowed it by singing.
One day he took out of its place in the library an old cocoanut, and wasbeginning to split it open, when Pecuchet came up:
"My cocoanut!"
It was a memento of Dumouchel! He had brought it from Paris toChavignolles. He raised his arms in indignation. Victor burst outlaughing. "Good friend" could not stand it any longer, and with one goodbox sent him rolling to the end of the room, then, quivering withemotion, went to complain to Bouvard.
Bouvard rebuked him.
"Are you crazy with your cocoanut? Blows only brutalise; terrorenervates. You are disgracing yourself!"
Pecuchet returned that corporal chastisements were sometimesindispensable. Pestalozzi made use of them; and the celebratedMelancthon confesses that without them he would have learned nothing.
His friend observed that cruel punishments, on the other hand, haddriven children to suicide. He had in his reading found examples of it.
Victor had barricaded himself in his room.
Bouvard parleyed with him outside the door, and, to make him open it,promised him a plum tart.
From that time he grew worse.
There remained a method extolled by Monseigneur Dupanloup: "the severelook." They tried to impress on their countenances a dreadfulexpression, and they produced no effect.
"We have no longer any resource but to try religion."
Pecuchet protested. They had banished it from their programme.
But reasoning does not satisfy every want. The heart and the imaginationdesire something else. The supernatural is for many souls indispensable.So they resolved to send the children to catechism.
Reine offered to conduct them there. She again came to the house, andknew how to make herself liked by her caressing ways.
Victorine suddenly changed, became shy, honey-tongued, knelt down beforethe Madonna, admired the sacrifice of Abraham, and sneered disdainfullyat the name of Protestant.
She said that fasting had been enjoined upon her. They made inquiries:it was not true. On the feast of Corpus Christi some damask violetsdisappeared from one of the flower-beds to decorate the processionalaltar: she impudently denied having cut them. At another time she tookfrom Bouvard twenty sous, which she placed at vesper-time in thesacristan's collecting-plate.
They drew from this the conclusion that morality is distinguishable fromreligion; when it has not another basis, its importance is secondary.
One evening, while they were dining, M. Marescot entered. Victor fledimmediately.
The notary, having declined to sit down, told what had brought himthere.
Young Touache had beaten--all but killed--his son. As Victor's originwas known, and as he was unpopular, the other brats called him"Convict," and not long since he had given Master Arnold Marescot adrubbing, which was an insult. "Dear Arnold" bore the marks of it on hisbody.
"His mother is in despair, his clothes are in rags, his health isimperilled. What are we coming to?"
The notary insisted on severe chastisement, and, amongst other things,on Victor being henceforth kept away from catechism, to prevent freshcollisions.
Bouvard and Pecuchet, although wounded by his haughty tone, promisedeverything he wished--yielded.
Had Victor obeyed a sentiment of honour or of revenge? In any case, hewas no coward.
But his brutality frightened them. Music softens manners. Pecuchetconceived the notion of teaching him
the solfeggio.
Victor had much difficulty in reading the notes readily and notconfounding the terms _adagio_, _presto_, and _sforzando_. His masterstrove to explain to him the gamut, perfect harmony, the diatonic, thechromatic, and the two kinds of intervals called major and minor.
He made him stand up straight, with his chest advanced, his shouldersthrown back, his mouth wide open, and, in order to teach by example,gave out intonations in a voice that was out of tune. Victor's voicecame forth painfully from his larynx, so contracted was it. When the barbegan with a crotchet rest, he started either too soon or too late.
Nevertheless Pecuchet took up an air in two parts. He used a rod as asubstitute for a fiddle-stick, and moved his arm like a conductor, as ifhe had an orchestra behind him; but, engaged as he was in two tasks, hesometimes made a mistake; his blunder led to others on the part of thepupil; and, knitting their brows, straining the muscles of their necks,they went on at random down to the end of the page.
At length Pecuchet said to Victor:
"You're not likely to shine in a choral society."
And he abandoned the teaching of music.
Besides, perhaps Locke is right: "Music is associated with so muchprofligate company that it is better to occupy oneself with somethingelse."
Without desiring to make an author of him, it would be convenient forVictor to know how to despatch a letter. A reflection stopped them: theepistolary style cannot be acquired, for it belongs exclusively towomen.
They next thought of cramming his memory with literary fragments, and,perplexed about making selections, consulted Madame Campan's work. Sherecommends the scene of Eliakim, the choruses in _Esther_, and theentire works of Jean Baptiste Rousseau.
These are a little old-fashioned. As for romances, she prohibits them,as depicting the world under too favourable colours. However, shepermits _Clarissa Harlowe_ and _The Father of a Family_, by Mrs.Opie.[A] Who is this Mrs. Opie?
[A] This is possibly a reference to that once celebrated specimen of English didactic fiction, _Fathers and Daughters_, by Mrs. Amelia Opie.--TRANSLATOR.
They did not find her name in the Biographie of Michaud.
There remained fairy tales. "They would be expecting palaces ofdiamonds," said Pecuchet. Literature develops the intellect, but excitesthe passions.
Victorine was sent away from catechism on account of her conduct. Shehad been caught kissing the notary's son, and Reine made no joke of it:her face looked grave under her cap with its big frills.
After such a scandal, why keep a young girl so corrupted?
Bouvard and Pecuchet called the cure an old fool. His housekeeperdefended him, muttering:
"We know you!--we know you!"
They made a sharp rejoinder, and she went off rolling her eyes in afearful manner.
Victorine was, in fact, smitten with a fancy for Arnold, so nice did shethink him, with his embroidered collar, his velvet jacket, and hiswell-scented hair; and she had been bringing bouquets to him up to thetime when Zephyrin told about her.
What foolishness was exhibited regarding this adventure, the twochildren being perfectly innocent!
The two guardians thought Victor required a stirring amusement likehunting; this would lead to the expense of a gun, of a dog. They thoughtit better to fatigue him, in order to tame the exuberance of his animalspirits, and went in for coursing in the fields.
The young fellow escaped from them, although they relieved each other.They could do nothing more; and in the evening they had not the strengthto hold up the newspaper.
Whilst they were waiting for Victor they talked to the passers-by, andthrough the sheer necessity of playing the pedagogue, they tried toteach them hygiene, deplored the injuries from floods and the waste ofmanures, thundered against such superstitions as leaving the skeleton ofa blackbird in a barn, putting consecrated wood at the end of a stableand a bag of worms on the big toes of people suffering from fever.
They next took to inspecting wet nurses, and were incensed at theirmanagement of babies: some soaked them in gruel, causing them to die ofexhaustion; others stuffed them with meat before they were six monthsold, and so they fell victims to indigestion; several cleaned them withtheir own spittle; all managed them barbarously.
When they saw over a door an owl that had been crucified, they went intothe farmhouse and said:
"You are wrong; these animals live on rats and field-mice. There hasbeen found in a screech-owl's stomach a quantity of caterpillars'larvae."
The country-folk knew them from having seen them, in the first place, asphysicians, then searching for old furniture, and afterwards looking forstones; and they replied:
"Come, now, you pair of play-actors! don't try to teach us."
Their conviction was shaken, for the sparrows cleanse thekitchen-gardens, but eat up the cherries. The owls devour insects, andat the same time bats, which are useful; and, if the moles eat theslugs, they upset the soil. There was one thing of which they werecertain: that all game should be destroyed as fatal to agriculture.
One evening, as they were passing along by the wood of Faverges, theyfound themselves in front of Sorel's house, at the side of the road.Sorel was gesticulating in the presence of three persons. The first wasa certain Dauphin, a cobbler, small, thin, and with a sly expression ofcountenance; the second, Pere Aubain, a village porter, wore an oldyellow frock-coat, with a pair of coarse blue linen trousers; thethird, Eugene, a man-servant employed by M. Marescot, was distinguishedby his beard cut like that of a magistrate.
Sorel was showing them a noose in copper wire attached to a silk thread,which was held by a clamp--what is called a snare--and he had discoveredthe cobbler in the act of setting it.
"You are witnesses, are you not?"
Eugene lowered his chin by way of assent, and Pere Aubain replied:
"Once you say so."
What enraged Sorel was that anyone should have the audacity to set up asnare at the entrance of his lodge, the rascal imagining that one wouldhave no idea of suspecting it in such a place.
Dauphin adopted the blubbering system:
"I was walking over it; I even tried to break it." They were alwaysaccusing him. They had a grudge against him; he was most unlucky.
Sorel, without answering him, had drawn out of his pocket a note-bookand a pen and ink, in order to make out an official report.
"Oh, no!" said Pecuchet.
Bouvard added: "Let him go. He is a decent fellow."
"He--a poacher!"
"Well, such things will happen."
And they proceeded to defend poaching: "We know, to start with, that therabbits nibble at the young sprouts, and that the hares destroy the corncrops--except, perhaps, the woodcock----"
"Let me alone, now." And the gamekeeper went on writing with clenchedteeth.
"What obstinacy!" murmured Bouvard.
"Another word, and I shall send for the gendarmes!
"You are an ill-mannered fellow!" said Pecuchet.
"You are no great things!" retorted Sorel.
Bouvard, forgetting himself, referred to him as a blockhead, a bully;and Eugene kept repeating, "Peace! peace! let us respect the law"; whilePere Aubain was groaning three paces away from them on a heap ofpebbles.
Disturbed by these voices, all the dogs of the pack rushed out of theirkennels. Through the railings their black snouts could be seen, and,rushing hither and thither they kept barking loudly.
"Don't plague me further," cried their master, "or I'll make them go foryour breeches!"
The two friends departed, satisfied, however, with having upheldprogress and civilisation.
Next day a summons was served on them to appear at the police court foroffering insults to the gamekeeper, and to pay a hundred francs'compensation, "reserving an appeal to the public administration, havingregard to the contraventions committed by them. Costs: 6 francs 75centimes.--TIERCELIN, Summoner."
Wherefore a public administration? Their heads became giddy; then,becoming calm, t
hey set about preparing their defence.
On the day named, Bouvard and Pecuchet repaired to the court-house anhour too early. No one was there; chairs and three cushioned seatssurrounded an oval table covered with a cloth; a niche had been made inthe wall for the purpose of placing a stove there; and the Emperor'sbust, which was on a pedestal, overlooked the scene.
They strolled up to the top room of the building, where there was afire-engine, a number of flags, and in a corner, on the floor, otherplaster busts--the great Napoleon without a diadem; Louis XVIII. withepaulets on a dress-coat; Charles X., recognisable by his hanging lip;Louis Philippe, with arched eyebrows and hair dressed in pyramidfashion, the slope of the roof grazing the nape of his neck; and allthese objects were befouled by flies and dust. This spectacle had ademoralising effect on Bouvard and Pecuchet. Governing powers excitedtheir pity as they made their way back to the main hall.
There they found Sorel and the field-keeper, the one wearing his badgeon his arm, and the other his military cap.
A dozen persons were talking, having been summoned for not having sweptin front of their houses, or for having let their dogs go at large, orneglecting to attach lanterns to their carts, or for keeping apublic-house open during mass-time.
At length Coulon presented himself, wrapped in a robe of black serge andwearing a round cap with velvet edgings. His clerk sat down at his left,the mayor, scarfed, at his right; and shortly afterwards the case ofSorel against Bouvard and Pecuchet was called.
Louis-Martial-Eugene Lenepveur, valet at Chavignolles (Calvados),availed himself of his character as a witness to unburden himself of allhe knew about a great many things that were foreign to the issue.
Nicolas-Juste Aubain, day-labourer, was afraid both of displeasing Soreland of injuring "these gentlemen." He had heard abusive words, and yethe had his doubts about it. He pleaded that he was deaf.
The justice of the peace made him sit down; then, addressing himself tothe gamekeeper: "Do you persist in your declarations?"
"Certainly."
Coulon then asked the two defendants what they had to say.
Bouvard maintained that he had not insulted Sorel, but that in takingthe poacher's part he had vindicated the rights of the peasantry. Herecalled the abuses of feudal times and the ruinous huntings of thenobles.
"No matter! The contravention----"
"Allow me to stop you," exclaimed Pecuchet.
The words "contravention," "crime," and "delict" were of no value. Toseek in this way to class punishable acts was to take an arbitrarybasis. As much as to say to citizens: "Don't bother yourself as to thevalue of your actions; that is determined by the punishment inflicted byauthority." However, the penal code appeared to him an absurd productiondevoid of principles.
"That may be," replied Coulon; and he proceeded to pronounce hisjudgment.
But here Foureau, who represented the public administration, arose. Theyhad outraged the gamekeeper in the exercise of his functions. If noregard were shown for propriety, everything would be destroyed.
"In short, may it please Monsieur the Justice of the Peace to apply themaximum penalty."
This was ten francs, in the form of damages to Sorel.
"Bravo!" exclaimed Bouvard.
Coulon had not finished.
"Impose on them, in addition, a fine of five francs for having beenguilty of the contravention mentioned by the public administration."
Pecuchet turned around to the audience:
"The fine is a trifle to the rich man, but a disaster to the poor man.As for myself, it matters nothing to me."
And he presented the appearance of defying the court.
"Really," said Coulon, "I am astonished that people of intelligence----"
"The law dispenses you from the possession of it," retorted Pecuchet."The justice of the peace occupies his post indefinitely, while thejudge of the supreme court is reputed capable up to seventy-five years,and the judge of first instance is no longer so at seventy."
But, at a gesture from Foureau, Placquevent advanced.
They protested.
"Ah! if you were appointed by competition!"
"Or by the General Council!"
"Or a committee of experts, and according to a proper list!"
Placquevent moved them on, and they went out while the other defendants'names were being called, believing that they had made a good show in thecourse of these vile proceedings.
To give vent to their indignation they went that evening to Beljambe'shostelry. His cafe was empty, the principal customers being in the habitof leaving about ten o'clock. The lamp had been lowered; the walls andthe counter seemed shrouded in a fog. A female attendant came on thescene. It was Melie. She did not appear agitated, and, smiling, shepoured them out two bocks. Pecuchet, ill at ease, quickly left theestablishment.
Bouvard came back there alone, entertained some of the villagers withsarcasms at the mayor's expense, and after that went into thesmoking-room.
Six months later Dauphin was acquitted for want of evidence. What ashame! These very witnesses who had been believed when testifyingagainst them were now regarded with suspicion. And their anger knew nobounds when the registrar gave them notice to pay the fine. Bouvardattacked the registry as injurious to property.
"You are mistaken," said the collector. "Why, it bears a third of thepublic expenditure!"
"I would have proceedings with regard to taxes less vexatious, a bettersystem of land registration, alterations in the law as to mortgages, andwould abolish the Bank of France, which has the privilege of usury."
Girbal, not being strong on the subject, let the argument fall to theground, and departed. However, Bouvard made himself agreeable to theinnkeeper; he would attract a crowd around him; and, while he waswaiting for the guests, he chatted familiarly with the barmaid.
He gave utterance to odd ideas on primary education. On leaving school,pupils ought to be capable of nursing the sick, understanding scientificdiscoveries, and taking an interest in the arts. The requirements of hisprogramme made him fall out with Petit; and he offended the captain bymaintaining that soldiers, instead of losing their time with drilling,would be better occupied in growing vegetables.
When the question of free trade turned up he brought Pecuchet along withhim, and the whole winter there were in the cafe angry looks,contemptuous attitudes, insults and vociferations, with blows of fistson the table that made the beer-glasses jump.
Langlois and the other merchants defended national commerce; Oudot,owner of a spinning factory, and Mathieu, a goldsmith, nationalindustry; the landowners and the farmers, national agriculture: everyoneclaiming privileges for himself to the detriment of the public at large.
The observations of Bouvard and Pecuchet had an alarming effect.
As they were accused of ignoring the practical side of life, of having atendency towards levelling, and of immorality, they developed thesethree ideas: to replace the family name by a registered number; toarrange the French people in a hierarchy, and in such a way that, inorder to preserve his grade, it would be necessary for one to submitfrom time to time to an examination; no more punishments, no morerewards, but in every village an individual chronicle of all personsliving there, which would pass on to posterity.
Their system was treated with disdain. They wrote an article about itfor the Bayeux daily paper, drew up a note to the prefect, a petition tothe Chambers, and a memorial to the Emperor.
The newspaper did not publish their article.
The prefect did not condescend to reply.
The Chambers were silent; and they waited a long time for acommunication from the Tuileries.
What, then, was the Emperor occupying his time with?
With women, no doubt.
Foureau, on the part of the sub-prefect, suggested the desirability ofmore reserve.
They laughed at the sub-prefect, the prefect, the councillors of theprefecture, even the council of state. Administrative justice was amonstrosity, for the adm
inistration by means of favours and threatsunjustly controls its functionaries. In short, they came to be regardedas a nuisance, and the leading men of the place gave injunctions toBeljambe not to entertain two such fellows.
At this period, Bouvard and Pecuchet were burning to signalisethemselves by a work which would dazzle their neighbours; and they sawnothing better than plans for the embellishment of Chavignolles.
Three fourths of the houses should be demolished. They would constructin the centre of the village a monumental square, on the way to Falaisea hospital, slaughter-houses on the way to Caen, and at the "Cows' Pass"a Roman church of many colours.
Pecuchet manufactured a colouring mixture with Indian ink, and did notforget in preparing his plans to give a yellow tint to the woods, a redto the buildings, and a green to the meadows, for the pictures of anideal Chavignolles pursued him in his daydreams, and he came back tothem as he lay on his mattress.
Bouvard was awakened by him one night.
"Are you unwell?"
Pecuchet stammered, "Haussmann prevents me from going to sleep."
About this time he received a letter from Dumouchel to know the cost ofsea-baths on the Norman coast.
"Let him go about his business with his baths! Have we any time towrite?"
And, when they had procured a land-surveyor's chain, a semicircle, awater-level, and a compass, they began at other studies.
They encroached on private properties. The inhabitants were frequentlysurprised to see the pair fixing stakes in the ground for surveyingpurposes. Bouvard and Pecuchet announced their plans, and what would bethe outcome of them, with the utmost self-complacency. The people becameuneasy, for, perchance, authority might at length fall in with thesemen's views! Sometimes they rudely drove them away.
Victor scaled the walls and crept up to the roof to hang up signalsthere; he exhibited good-will, and even a degree of enthusiasm.
They were also better satisfied with Victorine.
When she was ironing the linen she hummed in a sweet voice as she movedher smoothing-iron over the board, interested herself in looking afterthe household, and made a cap for Bouvard, with a well-pointed peak thatwon compliments for her from Romiche.
This man was one of those tailors who go about mending clothes infarmhouses. He was taken into the house for a fortnight.
Hunchbacked, with bloodshot eyes, he made up for his bodily defects by afacetious disposition. While the masters were out, he used to amuseMarcel and Victorine by telling them funny stories. He would put out histongue as far as his chin, imitate the cuckoo, or give exhibitions ofventriloquism; and at night, saving the cost of an inn, he went to sleepin the bakehouse.
Now, one morning, at a very early hour, Bouvard, being cold, happened togo there to get chips to light his fire.
What he saw petrified him. Behind the remains of the chest, upon a strawmattress, Romiche and Victorine lay asleep together.
He had passed his arm around her waist, and his other hand, long as thatof an ape, clutched one of her knees. She was smiling, stretched on herback. Her fair hair hung loose, and the whiteness of the dawn threw itspale light upon the pair.
Bouvard for a moment felt as if he had received a blow in the chest;then a sense of shame prevented him from making a single movement. Hewas oppressed by painful reflections.
"So young! Lost! lost!" He then went to awaken Pecuchet, and brieflytold him everything.
"Ah! the wretch!"
"We cannot help it. Be calm!" And for some time they remained sighing,one after the other--Bouvard, with his coat off and his arms folded;Pecuchet, at the side of his bed, sitting barefooted in a cottonnightcap.
Romiche should leave that very day, when his work was finished. Theywould pay him in a haughty fashion, and in silence.
But Providence had some spite against them.
Marcel, a short time afterwards, led them to Victor's room and showedthem at the bottom of his chest of drawers a twenty-franc piece. Theyoungster had asked him to get the change of it.
Where did it come from? No doubt it was got by a theft committed whilethey were going about as engineers. But in order to restore it theywould require to know the person; and if some one came to claim it theywould look like accomplices.
At length, having sent for Victor, they ordered him to open his drawer:the napoleon was no longer there. He pretended not to understand. Ashort time before, however, they had seen it, this very coin, and Marcelwas incapable of lying. This affair had revolutionised Pecuchet so muchthat he had, since morning, kept in his pocket a letter for Bouvard:
"Sir,--Fearing lest M. Pecuchet may be ill, I have recourse to yourkindness----"
"Whose is the signature, then?"
"Olympe Dumouchel, _nee_ Charpeau."
She and her husband were anxious to know in whichbathing-place--Courseulles, Langrune, or Lucques--the best society wasto be found, which was least noisy, and as to the means of transport,the cost of washing, etc.
This importunity made them angry with Dumouchel; then weariness plungedthem into deeper despondency.
They went over all the pains that they had taken--so many lessons,precautions, torments!
"And to think that we intended at one time to make Victorine a teacher,and Victor an overseer of works!"
"Ah! how deceived we were in her!"
"If she is vicious, it is not the fault of the lessons she got."
"For my part, to make her virtuous, I would have learned Cartouche'sbiography."
"Perhaps they needed family life--the care of a mother?"
"I was like one to them," protested Bouvard.
"Alas!" replied Pecuchet. "But there are natures bereft of moral sense;and education in that case can do nothing."
"Ah! yes, 'tis a fine thing, education!"
As the orphans had not learned any trade, they would seek two situationsfor them as servants; and then, with the help of God, they would havenothing more to do with them.
And henceforth "My uncle" and "Good friend" made them take their mealsin the kitchen.
But soon they grew restless, their minds feeling the need of work, theirexistence of an aim.
Besides, what does one failure prove? What had proved abortive in thecase of children might be more successful with men. And they conceivedthe idea of preparing a course of lectures for adults.
In order to explain their views, a conference would be necessary. Thegreat hall of the inn would be perfectly suitable for this purpose.
Beljambe, as deputy mayor, was afraid to compromise himself, refused atfirst, then, thinking that he might make something out of it, changedhis mind, and sent word to that effect by his servant-maid.
Bouvard, in the excess of his joy, kissed her on both cheeks.
The mayor was absent. The other deputy, M. Marescot, entirely taken upwith his office, would pay little attention to the conference. So it wasto take place; and, to the beating of the drum, the hour was announcedas three o'clock on the following Sunday.
It was only on the day before that they thought about their costumes.Pecuchet, thank Heaven, had preserved an old ceremonial coat with avelvet collar, two white cravats, and black gloves. Bouvard put on hisblue frock-coat, a nankeen waistcoat and beaver shoes; and they werestrongly moved when they had passed through the village and arrived atthe hostelry of the Golden Cross.
[_Here Gustave Flaubert's manuscript breaks off._]
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