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VI
"Here it is," returned Blondet.
"There has been a good deal said about
affairs at Lyons; about the Republic cannonaded in the streets; well,
there was not a word of truth in it all. The Republic took up the
riots, just as an insurgent snatches
up a rifle. The truth is queer
and profound, I can tell you. The Lyons trade is a
soulless trade.
They will not weave a yard of silk
unless they have the order and are
sure of payment. If orders fall off;
the workmen may starve; they can
scarcely earn a living, convicts are
better off. After the Revolution
of July, the distress reached such a pitch that the Lyons weaversthe
canuts, as they call themhoisted the flag, 'Bread or Death!' a
proclamation of a kind which compels
the attention of a government. It
was really brought about by the cost of living at Lyons; Lyons must
build theatres and become a metropolis, forsooth, and the octroi
duties accordingly were insanely
high. The Republicans got wind of
this bread riot, they organized the
canuts in two camps, and fought
among themselves. Lyons had her Three
Days, but order was restored,
and the silk weavers went back to their dens. Hitherto the canut had
been honest; the silk for his work
was weighed out to him in hanks,
and he brought back the same weight
of woven tissue; now he made up
his mind that the silk merchants
were oppressing him; he put honesty
out at the door and rubbed oil on
his fingers. He still brought back
weight for weight, but he sold the
silk represented by the oil; and
the French silk trade has suffered
from a plague of 'greased silks,'
which might have ruined Lyons and a whole branch of French commerce.
The masters and the government,
instead of removing the causes of the
evil, simply drove it in with a
violent external application. They
ought to have sent a clever man to
Lyons, one of those men that are
said to have no principle, an Abbe
Terray; but they looked at the
affair from a military point of
view. The result of the troubles is a
gros de Naples at forty sous per yard; the silk is sold at this day, I
dare say, and the masters no doubt have hit upon some new check upon
the men. This method of
manufacturing without looking ahead ought
never to have existed in the country
where one of the greatest
citizens that France has ever known ruined himself to keep six
thousand weavers in work without orders. Richard Lenoir fed them, and
the government was thickheaded
enough to allow him to suffer from the
fall of the prices of textile
fabrics brought about by the Revolution
of 1814. Richard Lenoir is the one
case of a merchant that deserves a
statue. And yet the subscription set
on foot for him has no
subscribers, while the fund for
General Foy's children reached a
million francs. Lyons has drawn her
own conclusions; she knows France,
she knows that there is no religion left. The story of Richard Lenoir
is one of those blunders which
Fouche condemned as worse than a
crime."
"Suppose that there is a tinge
of charlatanism in the way in which
concerns are put before the
public," began Couture, returning to the
charge, "that word charlatanism
has come to be a damaging expression,
a middle term, as it were, between
right and wrong; for where, I ask
you, does charlatanism begin? where
does it end? what is charlatanism?
do me the kindness of telling me
what it is NOT. Now for a little
plain speaking, the rarest social
ingredient. A business which should
consist in going out at night to
look for goods to sell in the day
would obviously be impossible. You
find the instinct of forestalling
the market in the very match-seller.
How to forestall the marketthat
is the one idea of the so-called
honest tradesman of the Rue Saint-
Denis, as of the most brazen-fronted
speculator. If stocks are heavy,
sell you must. If sales are slow,
you must tickle your customer; hence
the signs of the Middle Ages, hence
the modern prospectus. I do not
see a hair's-breadth of difference
between attracting custom and
forcing your goods upon the
consumer. It may happen, it is sure to
happen, it often happens, that a
shopkeeper gets hold of damaged
goods, for the seller always cheats
the buyer. Go and ask the most
upright folk in Paristhe best known
men in business, that isand
they will all triumphantly tell you
of dodges by which they passed off
stock which they knew to be bad upon
the public. The well-known firm
of Minard began by sales of this
kind. In the Rue Saint-Denis they
sell nothing but 'greased silk'; it
is all that they can do. The most
honest merchants tell you in the
most candid way that 'you must get
out of a bad bargain as best you can'a
motto for the most
unscrupulous rascality. Blondet has
given you an account of the Lyons
affair, its causes and effects, and
I proceed in my turn to illustrate
my theory with an anecdote:There was
once a woolen weaver, an
ambitious man, burdened with a large
family of children by a wife too
much beloved. He put too much faith
in the Republic, laid in a stock
of scarlet wool, and manufactured
those red-knitted caps that you may
have noticed on the heads of all the street urchins in Paris. How this
came about I am just going to tell you. The Republic was beaten. After
the Saint-Merri affair the caps were
quite unsalable. Now, when a
weaver finds that besides a wife and
children he has some ten thousand
red woolen caps in the house, and
that no hatter will take a single
one of them, notions begin to pass
through his head as fast as if he
were a banker racking his brains to
get rid of ten million francs'
worth of shares in some dubious
investment. As for this Law of the
Faubourg, this Nucingen of caps, do
you know what he did? He went to
find a pothouse dandy, one of those
comic men that drive police
sergeants to despair at open-air
dancing saloons at the barriers; him
he engaged to play the part of an
American captain staying at
Meurice's and buying for export
trade. He was to go to some large
hatter, who still had a cap in his
shop window, and 'inquire for' ten
thousand red woolen caps. The
hatter, scenting business in the wind,
hurried round to the woolen weaver
and rushed upon the stock. After
that, no more of the American
captain, you understand, and great
plenty of caps. If you interfere
with the freedom of trade, because
free trade has its drawbacks, you
might as well tie the hands of
justice because a crime sometimes
goes unpunished, or blame the bad
organization of society because
civilization produces some evils. From
the caps and the Rue Saint-Denis to
joint-stock companies and the Bank
draw your own conclusions."
"A crown for Couture!"
said Blondet, twisting a serviette into a
wreath for his head. "I go
further than that, gentlemen. If there is a
defect in the working hypothesis,
what is the cause? The law! the
whole system of legislation. The
blame rests with the legislature. The
great men of their districts are
sent up to us by the provinces,
crammed with parochial notions of
right and wrong; and ideas that are
indispensable if you want to keep
clear of collisions with justice,
are stupid when they prevent a man
from rising to the height at which
a maker of the laws ought to abide.
Legislation may prohibit such and
such developments of human
passionsgambling, lotteries, the Ninons
of the pavement, anything you
pleasebut you cannot extirpate the
passions themselves by any amount of
legislation. Abolish them, you
would abolish the society which
develops them, even if it does not
produce them. The gambling passion
lurks, for instance, at the bottom
of every heart, be it a girl's
heart, a provincial's, a diplomatist's;
everybody longs to have money
without working for it; you may hedge
the desire about with restrictions,
but the gambling mania immediately
breaks out in another form. You
stupidly suppress lotteries, but the
cook-maid pilfers none the less, and
puts her ill-gotten gains in the
savings bank. She gambles with two hundred
and fifty franc stakes
instead of forty sous; joint-stock
companies and speculation take the
place of the lottery; the gambling
goes on without the green cloth,
the croupier's rake is invisible,
the cheating planned beforehand. The
gambling houses are closed, the
lottery has come to an end; 'and now,'
cry idiots, 'morals have greatly improved in France,'
as if, forsooth,
they had suppressed the punters. The gambling still goes on, only the
State makes nothing from it now; and
for a tax paid with pleasure, it
has substituted a burdensome duty.
Nor is the number of suicides
reduced, for the gambler never dies,
though his victim does."
"I am not speaking now of
foreign capital lost to France," continued
Couture, "nor of the Frankfort
lotteries. The Convention passed a
decree of death against those who
hawked foreign lottery-tickets, and
procureur-syndics used to traffic in
them. So much for the sense of
our legislator and his driveling
philanthropy. The encouragement given
to savings banks is a piece of crass
political folly. Suppose that
things take a doubtful turn and
people lose confidence, the Government
will find that they have instituted
a queue for money, like the queues
outside the bakers' shops. So many
savings banks, so many riots. Three
street boys hoist a flag in some
corner or other, and you have a
revolution ready made.
"But this danger, however great
it may be, seems to me less to be
dreaded than the widespread
demoralization. Savings banks are a means
of inoculating the people, the
classes least restrained by education
or by reason from schemes that are
tacitly criminal, with the vices
bred of self-interest. See what
comes of philanthropy!
"A great politician ought to be
without a conscience in abstract
questions, or he is a bad steersman
for a nation. An honest politician
is a steam-engine with feelings, a
pilot that would make love at the
helm and let the ship go down. A
prime minister who helps himself to
millions but makes France prosperous
and great is preferable, is he
not, to a public servant who ruins
his country, even though he is
buried at the public expense? Would
you hesitate between a Richelieu,
a Mazarin, or a Potemkin, each with his hundreds of millions of
francs, and a conscientious Robert
Lindet that could make nothing out
of assignats and national property,
or one of the virtuous imbeciles
who ruined Louis XVI.? Go on,
Bixiou."
"I will not go into the details
of the speculation which we owe to
Nucingen's financial genius. It
would be the more inexpedient because
the concern is still in existence
and shares are quoted on the Bourse.
The scheme was so convincing, there
was such life in an enterprise
sanctioned by royal letters patent,
that though the shares issued at a
thousand francs fell to three
hundred, they rose to seven and will
reach par yet, after weathering the
stormy years '27, '30, and '32.
The financial crisis of 1827 sent
them down; after the Revolution of
July they fell flat; but there
really is something in the affair,
Nucingen simply could not invent a
bad speculation. In short, as
several banks of the highest
standing have been mixed up in the
affair, it would be unparliamentary
to go further into detail. The
nominal capital amounted to ten
millions; the real capital to seven.
Three millions were allotted to the
founders and bankers that brought
it out. Everything was done with a
view to sending up the shares two
hundred francs during the first six
months by the payment of a sham
dividend. Twenty per cent, on ten
millions! Du Tillet's interest in
the concern amounted to five hundred
thousand francs. In the
stock-exchange slang of the day,
this share of the spoils was a 'sop
in the pan.' Nucingen, with his
millions made by the aid of a
lithographer's stone and a handful
of pink paper, proposed to himself
to operate certain nice little
shares carefully hoarded in his private
office till the time came for
putting them on the market. The
shareholders' money floated the
concern, and paid for splendid
business premises, so they began
operations. And Nucingen held in
reserve founders' shares in Heaven
knows what coal and argentiferous
lead-mines, also in a couple of
canals; the shares had been given to
him for bringing out the concerns.
All four were in working order,
well got up and popular, for they
paid good dividends.
"Nucingen might, of course,
count on getting the differences if the
shares went up, but this formed no
part of the Baron's schemes; he
left the shares at sea-level on the
market to tempt the fishes.
"So he had massed his
securities as Napoleon massed his troops, all
with a view to suspending payment in
the thick of the approaching
crisis of 1826-27 which
revolutionized European markets. If Nucingen
had had his Prince of Wagram, he
might have said, like Napoleon from
the heights of Santon, 'Make a
careful survey of the situation; on
such and such a day, at such an hour
funds will be poured in at such a
spot.' But in whom could he confide?
Du Tillet had no suspicion of his
own complicity in Nucingen's plot;
and the bold Baron had learned from
his previous experiments in
suspensions of payment that he must have
some man whom he could trust to act
at need as a lever upon the
creditor. Nucingen had never a
nephew, he dared not take a confidant;
yet he must have a devoted and intelligent
Claparon, a born
diplomatist with a good manner, a
man worthy of him, and fit to take
office under government. Such
connections are not made in a day nor
yet in a year. By this time
Rastignac had been so thoroughly entangled
by Nucingen, that being, like the
Prince de la Paix, equally beloved
by the King and Queen of Spain, he
fancied that he (Rastignac) had
secured a very valuable dupe in
NUCINGEN! For a long while he had
laughed at a man whose capacities he
was unable to estimate; he ended
in a sober, serious, and devout
admiration of Nucingen, owning that
Nucingen really had the power which
he thought he himself alone
possessed.
"From Rastignac's introduction
to society in Paris, he had been led to
contemn it utterly. From the year 1820 he thought, like the Baron,
that honesty was a question of
appearances; he looked upon the world
as a mixture of corruption and
rascality of every sort. If he admitted
exceptions, he condemned the mass;
he put no belief in any virtuemen
did right or wrong, as circumstances
decided. His worldly wisdom was
the work of a moment; he learned his
lesson at the summit of Pere
Lachaise one day when he buried a
poor, good man there; it was his
Delphine's father, who died deserted
by his daughters and their
husbands, a dupe of our society and
of the truest affection. Rastignac
then and there resolved to exploit
this world, to wear full dress of
virtue, honesty, and fine manners.
He was empanoplied in selfishness.
When the young scion of nobility
discovered that Nucingen wore the
same armor, he respected him much as
some knight mounted upon a barb
and arrayed in damascened steel
would have respected an adversary
equally well horsed and equipped at
a tournament in the Middle Ages.
But for the time he had grown
effeminate amid the delights of Capua.
The friendship of such a woman as
the Baronne de Nucingen is of a kind
that sets a man abjuring egoism in
all its forms.
"Delphine had been deceived
once already; in her first venture of the
affections she came across a piece of
Birmingham manufacture, in the
shape of the late lamented de
Marsay; and therefore she could not but
feel a limitless affection for a
young provincial's articles of faith.
Her tenderness reacted upon
Rastignac. So by the time that Nucingen
had put his wife's friend into the
harness in which the exploiter
always gets the exploited, he had
reached the precise juncture when he
(the Baron) meditated a third
suspension of payment. To Rastignac he
confided his position; he pointed
out to Rastignac a means of making
'reparation.' As a consequence of
his intimacy, he was expected to
play the part of confederate. The
Baron judged it unsafe to
communicate the whole of his plot to
his conjugal collaborator.
Rastignac quite believed in
impending disaster; and the Baron allowed
him to believe further that he
(Rastignac) saved the shop.
"But when there are so many
threads in a skein, there are apt to be
knots. Rastignac trembled for
Delphine's money. He stipulated that
Delphine must be independent and her
estate separated from her
husband's, swearing to himself that
he would repay her by trebling her
fortune. As, however, Rastignac said
nothing of himself, Nucingen
begged him to take, in the event of
success, twenty-five shares of a
thousand francs in the argentiferous lead-mines, and Eugene took them
not to offend him! Nucingen had put Rastignac up to this the day
before that evening in the Rue
Joubert when our friend counseled
Malvina to marry. A cold shiver ran
through Rastignac at the sight of
so many happy folk in Paris going to and fro unconscious of the
impending loss; even so a young commander might shiver at the first
sight of an army drawn up before a
battle. He saw the d'Aiglemonts,
the d'Aldriggers, and Beaudenord.
Poor little Isaure and Godefroid
playing at love, what were they but
Acis and Galatea under the rock
which a hulking Polyphemus was about
to send down upon them?"
"That monkey of a Bixiou has
something almost like talent," said
Blondet.
"Oh! so I am not maundering
now?" asked Bixiou, enjoying his success
as he looked round at his surprised
auditors."For two months past,"
he continued, "Godefroid had
given himself up to all the little
pleasures of preparation for the
marriage. At such times men are like
birds building nests in spring; they
come and go, pick up their bits
of straw, and fly off with them in
their beaks to line the nest that
is to hold a brood of young birds by
and by. Isaure's bridegroom had
taken a house in the Rue de la
Plancher at a thousand crowns, a
comfortable little house neither too
large nor too small, which suited
them. Every morning he went round to
take a look at the workmen and to
superintend the painters. He had
introduced 'comfort' (the only good
thing in England)heating apparatus
to maintain an even temperature
all over the house; fresh, soft
colors, carefully chosen furniture,
neither too showy nor too much in
fashion; spring-blinds fitted to
every window inside and out; silver
plate and new carriages. He had
seen to the stables, coach-house,
and harness-room, where Toby Joby
Paddy floundered and fidgeted about
like a marmot let loose,
apparently rejoiced to know that
there would be women about the place
and a 'lady'! This fervent passion
of a man that sets up housekeeping,
choosing clocks, going to visit his betrothed
with his pockets full of
patterns of stuffs, consulting her
as to the bedroom furniture, going,
coming, and trotting about, for
love's sake,all this, I say, is a
spectacle in the highest degree
calculated to rejoice the hearts of
honest people, especially
tradespeople. And as nothing pleases folk
better than the marriage of a
good-looking young fellow of seven-and-
twenty and a charming girl of
nineteen that dances admirably well,
Godefroid in his perplexity over the
corbeille asked Mme. de Nucingen
and Rastignac to breakfast with him
and advise him on this all-
important point. He hit likewise on
the happy idea of asking his
cousin d'Aiglemont and his wife to
meet them, as well as Mme. de
Serizy. Women of the world are ready
enough to join for once in an
improvised breakfast-party at a
bachelor's rooms."
"It is their way of playing
truant," put in Blondet.
"Of course they went over the
new house," resumed Bixiou. "Married
women relish these little
expeditions as ogres relish warm flesh; they
feel young again with the young
bliss, unspoiled as yet by fruition.
Breakfast was served in Godefroid's
sitting-room, decked out like a
troop horse for a farewell to
bachelor life. There were dainty little
dishes such as women love to devour,
nibble at, and sip of a morning,
when they are usually alarmingly
hungry and horribly afraid to confess
to it. It would seem that a woman
compromises herself by admitting
that she is hungry.'Why have you
come alone?' inquired Godefroid
when Rastignac appeared.'Mme. de Nucingen
is out of spirits; I will
tell you all about it,' answered
Rastignac, with the air of a man
whose temper has been tried.'A
quarrel?' hazarded Godefroid.'No.'
At four o'clock
the women took flight for the Bois
de Boulogne;
Rastignac stayed in the room and
looked out of the window, fixing his
melancholy gaze upon Toby Joby
Paddy, who stood, his arms crossed in
Napoleonic fashion, audaciously
posted in front of Beaudenord's cab
horse. The child could only control
the animal with his shrill little
voice, but the horse was afraid of
Joby Toby.
" 'Well,' began Godefroid,
'what is the matter with you, my dear
fellow? You look gloomy and anxious;
your gaiety is forced. You are
tormented by incomplete happiness.
It is wretched, and that is a fact,
when one cannot marry the woman one
loves at the mayor's office and
the church.'
" 'Have you courage to hear
what I have to say? I wonder whether you
will see how much a man must be
attached to a friend if he can be
guilty of such a breach of
confidence as this for his sake.'
"Something in Rastignac's voice
stung like a lash of a whip.
" 'WHAT?' asked Godefroid de
Beaudenord, turning pale.
" 'I was unhappy over your joy;
I had not the heart to keep such a
secret to myself when I saw all these
preparations, your happiness in
bloom.'
" 'Just say it out in three
words!'
" 'Swear to me on your honor
that you will be as silent as the
grave'
" 'As the grave,' repeated
Beaudenord.
" 'That if one of your relatives
were concerned in this secret, he
should not know it.'
" 'No.'
" 'Very well. Nucingen started
to-night for Brussels. He must file his
schedule if he cannot arrange a
settlement. This very morning Delphine
petitioned for the separation of her
estate. You may still save your
fortune.'
" 'How?' faltered Godefroid;
the blood turned to ice in his veins.
" 'Simply write to the Baron de
Nucingen, antedating your letter a
fortnight, and instruct him to
invest all your capital in shares.'
Rastignac suggested Claparon and
Company, and continued'You have a
fortnight, a month, possibly three
months, in which to realize and
make something; the shares are still
going up'
" 'But d'Aiglemont, who was
here at breakfast with us, has a million
in Nucingen's bank.'
" 'Look here; I do not know
whether there will be enough of these
shares to cover it; and besides, I
am not his friend, I cannot betray
Nucingen's confidence. You must not
speak to d'Aiglemont. If you say a
word, you must answer to me for the
consequences.'
"Godefroid stood stock still
for ten minutes.
" 'Do you accept? Yes or no!'
said the inexorable Rastignac.
"Godefroid took up the pen,
wrote at Rastignac's dictation, and signed
his name.
" 'My poor cousin!' he cried.
" 'Each for himself,' said Rastignac.
'And there is one more settled!'
he added to himself as he left
Beaudenord.
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