the girl with the golden eyes-第3节

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Parisian　belly；　in　which　the　interests　of　the　town　are　digested；　and
where　they　are　condensed　into　the　form　known　as　/business/；　there
moves　and　agitates；　as　by　some　acrid　and　bitter　intestinal　process；
the　crowd　of　lawyers；　doctors；　notaries；　councillors；　business　men；
bankers；　big　merchants；　speculators；　and　magistrates。　Here　are　to　be
found　even　more　causes　of　moral　and　physical　destruction　than
elsewhere。　These　peoplealmost　all　of　themlive　in　unhealthy
offices；　in　fetid　ante…chambers；　in　little　barred　dens；　and　spend
their　days　bowed　down　beneath　the　weight　of　affairs；　they　rise　at　dawn
to　be　in　time；　not　to　be　left　behind；　to　gain　all　or　not　to　lose；　to
overreach　a　man　or　his　money；　to　open　or　wind　up　some　business；　to
take　advantage　of　some　fleeting　opportunity；　to　get　a　man　hanged　or
set　him　free。　They　infect　their　horses；　they　overdrive　and　age　and
break　them；　like　their　own　legs；　before　their　time。　Time　is　their
tyrant：　it　fails　them；　it　escapes　them；　they　can　neither　expand　it　nor
cut　it　short。　What　soul　can　remain　great；　pure；　moral；　and　generous；
and；　consequently；　what　face　retain　its　beauty　in　this　depraving
practice　of　a　calling　which　compels　one　to　bear　the　weight　of　the
public　sorrows；　to　analyze　them；　to　weigh　them；　estimate　them；　and
mark　them　out　by　rule？　Where　do　these　folk　put　aside　their
hearts？　。　。　。　I　do　not　know；　but　they　leave　them　somewhere　or　other；
when　they　have　any；　before　they　descend　each　morning　into　the　abyss　of
the　misery　which　puts　families　on　the　rack。　For　them　there　is　no　such
thing　as　mystery；　they　see　the　reverse　side　of　society；　whose
confessors　they　are；　and　despise　it。　Then；　whatever　they　do；　owing　to
their　contact　with　corruption；　they　either　are　horrified　at　it　and
grow　gloomy；　or　else；　out　of　lassitude；　or　some　secret　compromise；
espouse　it。　In　fine；　they　necessarily　become　callous　to　every
sentiment；　since　man；　his　laws　and　his　institutions；　make　them　steal；
like　jackals；　from　corpses　that　are　still　warm。　At　all　hours　the
financier　is　trampling　on　the　living；　the　attorney　on　the　dead；　the
pleader　on　the　conscience。　Forced　to　be　speaking　without　a　rest；　they
all　substitute　words　for　ideas；　phrases　for　feelings；　and　their　soul
becomes　a　larynx。　Neither　the　great　merchant；　nor　the　judge；　nor　the
pleader　preserves　his　sense　of　right；　they　feel　no　more；　they　apply
set　rules　that　leave　cases　out　of　count。　Borne　along　by　their　headlong
course；　they　are　neither　husbands　nor　fathers　nor　lovers；　they　glide
on　sledges　over　the　facts　of　life；　and　live　at　all　times　at　the　high
pressure　conduced　by　business　and　the　vast　city。　When　they　return　to
their　homes　they　are　required　to　go　to　a　ball；　to　the　opera；　into
society；　where　they　can　make　clients；　acquaintances；　protectors。　They
all　eat　to　excess；　play　and　keep　vigil；　and　their　faces　become
bloated；　flushed；　and　emaciated。

To　this　terrific　expenditure　of　intellectual　strength；　to　such
multifold　moral　contradictions；　they　opposenot；　indeed　pleasure；　it
would　be　too　pale　a　contrastbut　debauchery；　a　debauchery　both　secret
and　alarming；　for　they　have　all　means　at　their　disposal；　and　fix　the
morality　of　society。　Their　genuine　stupidity　lies　hid　beneath　their
specialism。　They　know　their　business；　but　are　ignorant　of　everything
which　is　outside　it。　So　that　to　preserve　their　self…conceit　they
question　everything；　are　crudely　and　crookedly　critical。　They　appear
to　be　sceptics　and　are　in　reality　simpletons；　they　swamp　their　wits　in
interminable　arguments。　Almost　all　conveniently　adopt　social；
literary；　or　political　prejudices；　to　do　away　with　the　need　of　having
opinions；　just　as　they　adapt　their　conscience　to　the　standard　of　the
Code　or　the　Tribunal　of　Commerce。　Having　started　early　to　become　men
of　note；　they　turn　into　mediocrities；　and　crawl　over　the　high　places
of　the　world。　So；　too；　their　faces　present　the　harsh　pallor；　the
deceitful　coloring；　those　dull；　tarnished　eyes；　and　garrulous；　sensual
mouths；　in　which　the　observer　recognizes　the　symptoms　of　the
degeneracy　of　the　thought　and　its　rotation　in　the　circle　of　a　special
idea　which　destroys　the　creative　faculties　of　the　brain　and　the　gift
of　seeing　in　large；　of　generalizing　and　deducing。　No　man　who　has
allowed　himself　to　be　caught　in　the　revolutions　of　the　gear　of　these
huge　machines　can　ever　become　great。　If　he　is　a　doctor；　either　he　has
practised　little　or　he　is　an　exceptiona　Bichat　who　dies　young。　If　a
great　merchant；　something　remainshe　is　almost　Jacques　Coeur。　Did
Robespierre　practise？　Danton　was　an　idler　who　waited。　But　who；
moreover　has　ever　felt　envious　of　the　figures　of　Danton　and
Robespierre；　however　lofty　they　were？　These　men　of　affairs；　/par
excellence/；　attract　money　to　them；　and　hoard　it　in　order　to　ally
themselves　with　aristocratic　families。　If　the　ambition　of　the　working…
man　is　that　of　the　small　tradesman；　here；　too；　are　the　same　passions。
The　type　of　this　class　might　be　either　an　ambitious　bourgeois；　who；
after　a　life　of　privation　and　continual　scheming；　passes　into　the
Council　of　State　as　an　ant　passes　through　a　chink；　or　some　newspaper
editor；　jaded　with　intrigue；　whom　the　king　makes　a　peer　of　France
perhaps　to　revenge　himself　on　the　nobility；　or　some　notary　become
mayor　of　his　parish：　all　people　crushed　with　business；　who；　if　they
attain　their　end；　are　literally　/killed/　in　its　attainment。　In　France
the　usage　is　to　glorify　wigs。　Napoleon；　Louis　XVI。；　the　great　rulers；
alone　have　always　wished　for　young　men　to　fulfil　their　projects。

Above　this　sphere　the　artist　world　exists。　But　here；　too；　the　faces
stamped　with　the　seal　of　originality　are　worn；　nobly　indeed；　but　worn；
fatigued；　nervous。　Harassed　by　a　need　of　production；　outrun　by　their
costly　fantasies；　worn　out　by　devouring　genius；　hungry　for　pleasure；
the　artists　of　Paris　would　all　regain　by　excessive　labor　what　they
have　lost　by　idleness；　and　vainly　seek　to　reconcile　the　world　and
glory；　money　and　art。　To　begin　with；　the　artist　is　ceaselessly　panting
under　his　creditors；　his　necessities　beget　his　debts；　and　his　debts
require　of　him　his　nights。　After　his　labor；　his　pleasure。　The　comedian
plays　till　midnight；　studies　in　the　morning；　rehearses　at　noon；　the
sculptor　is　bent　before　his　statue；　the　journalist　is　a　marching
thought；　like　the　soldier　when　at　war；　the　painter　who　is　the　fashion
is　crushed　with　work；　the　painter　with　no　occupation；　if　he　feels
himself　to　be　a　man　of　genius；　gnaws　his　entrails。　Competition；
rivalry；　calumny　assail　talent。　Some；　in　desperation；　plunge　into　the
abyss　of　vice；　others　die　young　and　unknown　because　they　have
discounted　their　future　too　soon。　Few　of　these　figures；　originally
sublime；　remain　beautiful。　On　the　other　hand；　the　flagrant　beauty　of
their　heads　is　not　understood。　An　artist's　face　is　always　exorbitant；
it　is　always　above　or　below　the　conventional　lines　of　what　fools　call
the　/beau…ideal/。　What　power　is　it　that　destroys　them？　Passion。　Every
passion　in　Paris　resolves　into　two　terms：　gold　and　pleasure。　Now；　do
you　not　breathe　again？　Do　you　not　feel　air　and　space　purified？　Here　is
neither　labor　nor　suffering。　The　soaring　arch　of　gold　has　reached　the
summit。　From　the　lowest　gutters；　where　its　stream　commences；　from　the
little　shops　where　it　is　stopped　by　puny　coffer…dams；　from　the　heart
of　the　counting…houses　and　great　workshops；　where　its　volume　is　that
of　ingotsgold；　in　the　shape　of　dowries　and　inheritances；　guided　by
the　hands　of　young　girls　or　the　bony　fingers　of　age；　courses　towards
the　aristocracy；　where　it　will　become　a　blazing；　expansive　stream。
But；　before　leaving　the　four　territories　upon　which　the　utmost　wealth
of　Paris　is　based；　it　is　fitting；　having　cited　the　moral　causes；　to
deduce　those　which　are　physical；　and　to　call　attention　to　a
pestilence；　latent；　as　it　were；　which　incessantly　acts　upon　the　faces
of　the　porter；　the　artisan；　the　small　shopkeeper；　to　point　out　a
deleterious　influence　the　corruption　of　which　equals　that　of　the
Parisian　administrators　who　allow　it　so　complacently　to　exist！

If　the　air　of　the　houses　in　which　the　greater　proportion　of　the　middle
classes　live　is　noxious；　if　the　atmosphere　of　the　streets　belches　out
cruel　miasmas　into　stuffy　back…kitchens　where　there　is　little　air；
realize　that；　apart　from　this　pestilence；　the　forty　thousand　houses　of
this　great　city　have　their　foundations　in　filth；　which　the　powers　that
be　have　not　yet　seriously　attempted　to　enclose　with　mortar　walls　solid
enough　to　prevent　even　the　most　fetid　mud　from　filtering　through　the
soil；　poisoning　the　wells；　and　maintaining　subterraneously　to　Lutetia
the　tradition　of　her　celebrated　name。　Half　of　Paris　sleeps　amidst　the
putrid　exhalations　of　courts　and　streets　and　sewers。　But　let　us　turn
to　the　vast　saloons；　gilded　and　airy；　the　hotels　in　their　gardens；　the
rich；　indolent；　happy　moneyed　world。　There　the　faces　are　lined　and
scarred　with　vanity。　There　nothing　is　real。　To　seek　for　pleasure　is　it
not　to　find　/ennui/？　People　in　society　have　at　an　early　age　warped
their　nature。　Having　no　occupation　other　than　to　wallow　in　pleasure；
they　have　speedily　misused　their　sense；　as　the　artisan　has　misused
brandy。　Pleasure　is　of　the　nature　of　certain　medical　substances：　i