The Brotherhood of Consolation - Honoré de Balzac (best free ebook reader for android txt) 📗

pleasure of seeing that Providence has not allowed our long devotion to be useless.'"

"And what did Louis XVIII. do?" asked Godefroid.

"He restored two hundred thousand francs in money to Madame de la Chanterie, for the estate of Saint-Savin had been sold to pay the costs of the trial. In the decree of pardon issued for Madame la baronne and her servant the king expressed regret for the suffering borne in his cause, adding that 'the zeal of his servants had gone too far in its methods of execution.' But--and this is a horrible thing; it will serve to show you a curious trait in the character of that monarch--he employed Bryond in his detective police throughout his reign."

"Oh, kings! kings!" cried Godefroid; "and is the wretch still living?"

"No; the wretch, as you justly call him, who concealed his real name under that of Contenson, died about the close of the year 1829 or the beginning of 1830. In trying to arrest a criminal who escaped over a roof, he fell into the street. Louis XVIII. shared Napoleon's ideas as to spies and police. Madame de la Chanterie is a saint; she prays constantly for the soul of that man and has two masses said yearly for him. As I have already told you, Madame de la Chanterie knew nothing of the dangers her daughter was incurring until the day when the money was carried to Alencon; nevertheless she was unable to establish her innocence, although defended by one of the greatest lawyers of that time. The president, du Ronceret, and the vice-president, Blondet, of the court of Alencon did their best to save our poor lady. But the influence of the councillor of the Imperial Court who presided at her trial before the Criminal and Special Court, the famous Mergi, and that of Bourlac the attorney-general was such over the other judges that they obtained her condemnation. Both Bourlac and Mergi showed extraordinary bitterness against mother and daughter; they called the Baronne des Tours-Minieres 'the woman Bryond,' and Madame 'the woman Lechantre.' The names of accused persons in those days were all brought to one republican level, and were sometimes unrecognizable. The trial had several very extraordinary features, which I cannot now recall; one piece of audacity remains in my memory which will serve to show you what sort of men those Chouans were. The crowd which assembled to hear the trial was immense; it even filled the corridors and the square before the court-house. One morning, after the opening of the court-room and before the arrival of the judges, Pille-Miche, a famous Chouan, sprang over the balustrade into the middle of the crowd, elbowing right and left, 'charging like a wild boar,' as Bordin told me, through the frightened people. The guards and the gendarmes dashed after him and caught him just as he reached the square; after that the guards were doubled. A picket of gendarmerie was stationed in the square, for they feared there were Chouans on the ground ready to rescue the prisoners. As it was, three persons were crushed to death on this occasion. It was afterwards discovered that Contenson (neither my friend Bordin nor I could ever bring ourselves to call him the Baron des Tours-Minieres, nor Bryond which is the name of an old family),--it was, I say, discovered that this wretch Contenson had obtained sixty thousand francs of the stolen money from the Chaussards; he gave ten thousand to the younger Chaussard, whom he took with him into the detective police and innoculated with his vices; his other accomplices got nothing from him. Madame de la Chanterie invested the money restored to her by the king in the public Funds, and bought this house to please her uncle, Monsieur de Boisfrelon, who gave her the money for the purpose, and died in the rooms you now occupy. This tranquil neighborhood is near the archbishop's palace, where our dear abbe has duties with the cardinal. That was one of the chief reasons why Madame agreed to her uncle's wish. Here, in this cloistral life, the fearful misfortunes which overwhelmed her for twenty-six years have been brought to a close. Now you can understand the majesty, the grandeur of this victim--august, I venture to call her."

"Yes," said Godefroid, "the imprint of all the blows she has received remains and gives her something, I can scarcely describe it, that is grand and majestic."

"Every wound, every fresh blow, has increased her patience, her resignation," continued Alain; "but if you knew her as we know her you would see how keen is her sensibility, how active the inexhaustible tenderness of her heart, and you would almost stand in awe of the tears she had shed, and the fervent prayers she had made to God. Ah! it was necessary to have known, as she did, a brief period of happiness to bear up as she has done under such misfortunes. Here is a tender heart, a gentle soul in a steel body hardened by privations, by toil, by austerities."

"Her life explains why hermits live so long," said Godefroid.

"There are days when I ask myself what is the meaning of a life like hers? Can it be that God reserves such trials, such cruel tests, for those of his creatures who are to sit on the morrow of their death at his right hand?" said the good Alain, quite unconscious that he was artlessly expressing the whole doctrine of Swedenborg on the angels.

"And you tell me," said Godefroid, "that in prison Madame de la Chanterie was put with--"

"Madame was sublime in her prison," said Alain. "For three whole years she realized the story of the Vicar of Wakefield, and was able to convert many of the worst women about her. During her imprisonment she observed the habits and customs of these women, and was seized with that great pity for the sorrows of the people which has since filled her soul and made her the angel of Parisian charity. In that dreadful Bicetre of Rouen, she conceived the plan to the realization of which we are now devoted. It was, she has often told us, a delightful dream, an angelic inspiration in the midst of hell; though she never thought she should realize it. When, in 1819, peace and quietude seemed really to return to Paris, her dream came back to her. Madame la Duchesse d'Angouleme, afterwards the dauphine, the Duchesse de Berry, the archbishop, later the chancellor, and several pious persons contributed liberally the first necessary sums. These funds have been increased by the addition of our own available property, from which we take only enough for our actual needs."

Tears came into Godefroid's eyes.

"We are the ministers of a Christian idea; we belong body and soul to its work, the spirit of which, the founder of which, is the Baronne de la Chanterie, whom you hear us so respectfully call 'Madame.'"

"Ah! let me belong to you!" cried Godefroid, stretching out his hands to the kind old man.

"Now you understand why there are some subjects of conversation which are never mentioned here, nor even alluded to. You can now see the obligations of delicacy that all who live in this house contract towards one who seems to us a saint. You comprehend--do you not?--the influence of a woman made sacred by such sorrows, who knows so many things, to whom anguish has said its utmost word; who from each adversity has drawn instruction, in whom all virtues have the double strength of cruel trial and of constant practice; whose soul is spotless and without reproach, whose motherhood knew only grief, whose married love knew only bitterness; on whom life smiled for a brief time only, but for whom heaven reserves a palm, the reward of resignation and of loving-kindness under sorrow. Ah! does she not even triumph over Job in never murmuring? Can you wonder that her words are so powerful, her old age so young, her soul so communicative, her glance so convincing? She has obtained extraordinary powers in dealing with sufferers, for she has suffered all things."

"She is the living image of Charity!" cried Godefroid, fervently. "Can I ever be one of you?"

"You must first endure the tests, and above all BELIEVE!" said the old man, gently. "So long as you have no faith, so long as you have not absorbed into your heart and mind the divine meaning of Saint Paul's epistle upon Charity, you cannot share our work."



SECOND EPISODE. THE INITIATE

XI. THE POLICE OF THE GOOD GOD

Like evil, good is contagious. Therefore when Madame de la Chanterie's lodger had lived in that old and silent house for some months after the worthy Alain's last confidence, which gave him the deepest respect for the religious lives of those among whom his was cast, he experienced that well-being of the soul which comes of a regulated existence, gentle customs, and harmony of nature in those who surround us. At the end of four months, during which time Godefroid heard neither a loud voice nor an argument, he could not remember that he had ever been, if not as happy, at least as tranquil and contented. He now judged soundly of the world, seeing it from afar. At last, the desire he had felt for months to be a sharer in the work of these mysterious persons became a passion. Without being great philosophers we can all understand the force which passions acquire in solitude.

Thus it happened that one day--a day made solemn by the power of the spirit within him--Godefroid again went up to see the good old Alain, him whom Madame de la Chanterie called her "lamb," the member of the community who seemed to Godefroid the least imposing, the most approachable member of the fraternity, intending to obtain from him some definite light on the conditions of the sacred work to which these brothers of God were dedicated. The allusions made to a period of trial seemed to imply an initiation, which he was now desirous of receiving. His curiosity had not been satisfied by what the venerable old man had already told him as to the causes which led to the work of Madame de la Chanterie; he wanted to know more.

For the third time Godefroid entered Monsieur Alain's room, just as the old man was beginning his evening reading of the "Imitation of Jesus Christ." This time the kindly soul did not restrain a smile when he saw the young man, and he said at once, without allowing Godefroid to speak:--

"Why do you come to me, my dear boy; why not go to Madame? I am the most ignorant, the most imperfect, the least spiritual of our number. For the last three days," he added, with a shrewd little glance, "Madame and my other friends have read your heart."

"What have they read there?" asked Godefroid.

"Ah!" replied the goodman, without evasion, "they see in you a rather artless desire to belong to our little flock. But this sentiment is not yet an ardent vocation. Yes," he continued, replying to a gesture of Godefroid's, "you have more curiosity than fervor. You are not yet so detached from your old ideas that you do not look forward to something adventurous, romantic, as they say, in the incidents of our life."

Godefroid could not keep himself from blushing.

"You see a likeness between our occupations and those of the caliphs of the 'Arabian Nights;' and you are thinking about the satisfaction you will have in playing the part of the good genii in the tales of benevolence you are inventing. Ah, my dear boy! that shame-faced laugh of yours proves to me that