第6章

THETULIP.

IamtheTulipfromBatavia"sshore;

ThethriftyFlemingformybeautyrarePaysaking"sransom,whenthatIamfair,Andtall,andstraight,andpuremypetal"score.

And,likesomeYolandeofthedaysofyore,MylongandamplyfoldedskirtsIwear,O"er-paintedwiththeblazonthatIbear——Gules,afessazure;purpure,fretty,or.

ThefingersoftheGardenerdivineHavewovenformemyvesturefairandfine,Ofthreadsofsunlightandofpurplestain;

Noflowersogloriousinthegardenbed,ButNature,woeisme,nofragranceshedWithinmycupofOrientporcelain.

"Well?"askedLucienafterapause,immeasurablylong,asitseemedtohim.

"Mydearfellow,"Etiennesaid,gravelysurveyingthetipsofLucien"sboots(hehadbroughtthepairfromAngouleme,andwaswearingthemout)."Mydearfellow,Istronglyrecommendyoutoputyourinkonyourbootstosaveblacking,andtotakeyourpensfortoothpicks,sothatwhenyoucomeawayfromFlicoteaux"syoucanswaggeralongthispicturesquealleylookingasifyouhaddined.Getasituationofanysortordescription.Runerrandsforabailiffifyouhavetheheart,beashopmanifyourbackisstrongenough,enlistifyouhappentohaveatasteformilitarymusic.Youhavethestuffofthreepoetsinyou;butbeforeyoucanreachyourpublic,youwillhavetimetodieofstarvationsixtimesover,ifyouintendtoliveontheproceedsofyourpoetry,thatis.Andfromyourtoounsophisticateddiscourse,itwouldseemtobeyourintentiontocoinmoneyoutofyourinkstand.

"Isaynothingastoyourverses;theyareagooddealbetterthanallthepoeticalwaresthatarecumberingthegroundinbooksellers"

backshopsjustnow.Elegant"nightingales"ofthatsortcostalittlemorethantheothers,becausetheyareprintedonhand-madepaper,buttheynearlyallofthemcomedownatlasttothebanksoftheSeine.

YoumaystudytheirrangeofnotesthereanydayifyoucaretomakeaninstructivepilgrimagealongtheQuaisfromoldJerome"sstallbythePontNotreDametothePontRoyal.Youwillfindthemallthere——

alltheEssaysinVerse,theInspirations,theloftyflights,thehymns,andsongs,andballads,andodes;allthenestfulshatchedduringthelastsevenyears,infact.Therelietheirmuses,thickwithdust,bespatteredbyeverypassingcab,atthemercyofeveryprofanehandthatturnsthemovertolookatthevignetteonthetitle-page.

"Youknownobody;youhaveaccesstononewspaper,soyourMargueriteswillremaindemurelyfoldedasyouholdthemnow.TheywillneveropenouttothesunofpublicityinfairfieldswithbroadmarginsenameledwiththefloretswhichDauriattheillustrious,thekingoftheWoodenGalleries,scatterswithalavishhandforpoetsknowntofame.IcametoParisasyoucame,poorboy,withaplentifulstockofillusions,impelledbyirrepressiblelongingsforglory——andIfoundtherealitiesofthecraft,thepracticaldifficultiesofthetrade,thehardfactsofpoverty.Inmyenthusiasm(itiskeptwellundercontrolnow),myfirstebullitionofyouthfulspirits,Ididnotseethesocialmachineryatwork;soIhadtolearntoseeitbybumpingagainstthewheelsandbruisingmyselfagainsttheshafts,andchains.

Nowyouareabouttolearn,asIlearned,thatbetweenyouandallthesefairdreamed-ofthingsliesthestrifeofmen,andpassions,andnecessities.

"Willy-nilly,youmusttakepartinaterriblebattle;bookagainstbook,managainstman,partyagainstparty;makewaryoumust,andthatsystematically,oryouwillbeabandonedbyyourownparty.Andtheyaremeancontests;struggleswhichleaveyoudisenchanted,andwearied,anddepraved,andallinpurewaste;foritoftenhappensthatyouputforthallyourstrengthtowinlaurelsforamanwhomyoudespise,andmaintain,inspiteofyourself,thatsomesecond-ratewriterisagenius.

"Thereisaworldbehindthescenesinthetheatreofliterature.Thepublicinfrontseesunexpectedorwell-deservedsuccess,andapplauds;thepublicdoesNOTseethepreparations,uglyastheyalwaysare,thepaintedsupers,theclaqueurshiredtoapplaud,thestagecarpenters,andallthatliesbehindthescenes.Youarestillamongtheaudience.Abdicate,thereisstilltime,beforeyousetyourfootontheloweststepofthethroneforwhichsomanyambitiousspiritsarecontending,anddonotsellyourhonor,asIdo,foralivelihood."Etienne"seyesfilledwithtearsashespoke.

"DoyouknowhowImakealiving?"hecontinuedpassionately."Thelittlestockofmoneytheygavemeathomewassooneatenup.ApieceofminewasacceptedattheTheatre-FrancaisjustasIcametoanendofit.AttheTheatre-Francaistheinfluenceofafirstgentlemanofthebedchamber,orofaprinceoftheblood,wouldnotbeenoughtosecureaturnoffavor;theactorsonlymakeconcessionstothosewhothreatentheirself-love.Ifitisinyourpowertospreadareportthatthejeunepremierhastheasthma,theleadingladyafistulawhereyouplease,andthesoubrettehasfoulbreath,thenyourpiecewouldbeplayedto-morrow.Idonotknowwhetherintwoyears"time,I

whospeaktoyounow,shallbeinapositiontoexercisesuchpower.

Youneedsomanytobackyou.AndwhereandhowamItogainmybreadmeanwhile?

"Itriedlotsofthings;Iwroteanovel,anonymously;oldDoguereaugavemetwohundredfrancsforit,andhedidnotmakeverymuchoutofithimself.Thenitgrewplaintomethatjournalismalonecouldgivemealiving.Thenextthingwastofindmywayintothoseshops.

IwillnottellyoualltheadvancesImade,norhowoftenIbeggedinvain.IwillsaynothingofthesixmonthsIspentasextrahandonapaper,andwastoldthatIscaredsubscribersaway,whenasafactI

attractedthem.PassovertheinsultsIputupwith.AtthismomentI

amdoingtheplaysattheBoulevardtheatres,almostgratis,forapaperbelongingtoFinot,thatstoutyoungfellowwhobreakfaststwoorthreetimesamonth,evennow,attheCafeVoltaire(butyoudon"tgothere).Ilivebysellingticketsthatmanagersgivemetobribeagoodwordinthepaper,andreviewers"copiesofbooks.Inshort,Finotoncesatisfied,Iamallowedtowriteforandagainstvariouscommercialarticles,andItrafficintributepaidinkindbyvarioustradesmen.AfacetiousnoticeofaCarminativeToiletLotion,PatedesSultanes,CephalicOil,orBrazilianMixturebringsmeintwentyorthirtyfrancs.

"Iamobligedtodunthepublisherswhentheydon"tsendinasufficientnumberofreviewers"copies;Finot,aseditor,appropriatestwoandsellsthem,andImusthavetwotosell.Ifabookofcapitalimportancecomesout,andthepublisherisstingywithcopies,hislifeismadeaburdentohim.Thecraftisvile,butIlivebyit,andsodoscoresofothers.Donotimaginethatthingsareanybetterinpubliclife.Thereiscorruptioneverywhereinbothregions;everymaniscorruptorcorruptsothers.Ifthereisanypublishingenterprisesomewhatlargerthanusualafoot,thetradewillpaymesomethingtobuyneutrality.Theamountofmyincomevaries,therefore,directlywiththeprospectuses.Whenprospectusesbreakoutlikearash,moneypoursintomypockets;Istandtreatallround.Whentradeisdull,I

dineatFlicoteaux"s.

"Actresseswillpayyoulikewiseforpraise,butthewiseramongthempayforcriticism.Tobepassedoverinsilenceiswhattheydreadthemost;andtheverybestthingofall,fromtheirpointofview,iscriticismwhichdrawsdownareply;itisfarmoreeffectualthanbaldpraise,forgottenassoonasread,anditcostsmoreinconsequence.

Celebrity,mydearfellow,isbaseduponcontroversy.Iamahiredbravo;Iplymytradeamongideasandreputations,commercial,literary,anddramatic;Imakesomefiftycrownsamonth;Icansellanovelforfivehundredfrancs;andIambeginningtobelookeduponasamantobefeared.Someday,insteadoflivingwithFlorineattheexpenseofadruggistwhogiveshimselftheairsofalord,Ishallbeinahouseofmyown;Ishallbeonthestaffofaleadingnewspaper,Ishallhaveafeuilleton;andonthatday,mydearfellow,Florinewillbecomeagreatactress.Asforme,IamnotsurewhatIshallbewhenthattimecomes,aministeroranhonestman——allthingsarestillpossible."

Heraisedhishumiliatedhead,andlookedoutatthegreenleaves,withanexpressionofdespairingself-condemnationdreadfultosee.

"AndIhadagreattragedyaccepted!"hewenton."Andamongmypapersthereisapoem,whichwilldie.AndIwasagoodfellow,andmyheartwasclean!Iusedtodreamloftydreamsofloveforgreatladies,queensinthegreatworld;and——mymistressisanactressatthePanorama-Dramatique.Andlastly,ifabooksellerdeclinestosendacopyofabooktomypaper,Iwillrundownworkwhichisgood,asI

know."

Lucienwasmovedtotears,andhegraspedEtienne"shandinhis.Thejournalistrosetohisfeet,andthepairwentupanddownthebroadAvenuedel"Observatoire,asiftheirlungscravedamplerbreathingspace.

"Outsidetheworldofletters,"EtienneLousteaucontinued,"notasinglecreaturesuspectsthateveryonewhosucceedsinthatworld——

whohasacertainvogue,thatistosay,orcomesintofashion,orgainsreputation,orrenown,orfame,orfavorwiththepublic(forbythesenamesweknowtherungsoftheladderbywhichweclimbtothehigherheightsaboveandbeyondthem),——everyonewhocomeseventhusfaristheheroofadreadfulOdyssey.Brilliantportentsriseabovethementalhorizonthroughacombinationofathousandaccidents;

conditionschangesoswiftlythatnotwomenhavebeenknowntoreachsuccessbythesameroad.CanalisandNathanaretwodissimilarcases;

thingsneverfalloutinthesamewaytwice.Thereisd"Arthez,whoknockshimselftopieceswithwork——hewillmakeafamousnamebysomeotherchance.

"Thissomuchdesiredreputationisnearlyalwayscrownedprostitution.Yes;thepoorestkindofliteratureisthehaplesscreaturefreezingatthestreetcorner;second-rateliteratureisthekept-mistresspickedoutofthebrothelsofjournalism,andIamherbully;lastly,thereisluckyliterature,theflaunting,insolentcourtesanwhohasahouseofherownandpaystaxes,whoreceivesgreatlords,treatingorill-treatingthemasshepleases,whohasliveriedservantsandacarriage,andcanaffordtokeepgreedycreditorswaiting.Ah!andforyetothers,formenotsoverylongago,foryouto-day——sheisawhite-robedangelwithmany-coloredwings,bearingagreenpalmbranchintheonehand,andintheotheraflamingsword.Anangel,somethingakintothemythologicalabstractionwhichlivesatthebottomofawell,andtothepoorandhonestgirlwholivesalifeofexileintheoutskirtsofthegreatcity,earningeverypennywithanoblefortitudeandinthefulllightofvirtue,returningtoheaveninviolateofbodyandsoul;unless,indeed,shecomestolieatthelast,soiled,despoiled,polluted,andforgotten,onapauper"sbier.Asforthemenwhosebrainsareencompassedwithbronze,whoseheartsarestillwarmunderthesnowsofexperience,theyarefoundbutseldominthecountrythatliesatourfeet,"headded,pointingtothegreatcityseethinginthelateafternoonlight.

Avisionofd"ArthezandhisfriendsflasheduponLucien"ssight,andmadeappealtohimforamoment;butLousteau"sappallinglamentationcarriedhimaway.

"Theyareveryfewandfarbetweeninthatgreatfermentingvat;rareasloveinlove-making,rareasfortuneshonestlymadeinbusiness,rareasthejournalistwhosehandsareclean.TheexperienceofthefirstmanwhotoldmeallthatIamtellingyouwasthrownawayuponme,andminenodoubtwillbewasteduponyou.Itisalwaysthesameoldstoryyearafteryear;thesameeagerrushtoParisfromtheprovinces;thesame,nottosayagrowing,numberofbeardless,ambitiousboys,whoadvance,headerect,andtheheartthatPrincessTourandocteoftheMilleetunJours——eachoneofthemfaintobeherPrinceCalaf.Butneveraoneofthemreadstheriddle.Onebyonetheydrop,someintothetrenchwherefailureslie,someintothemireofjournalism,someagainintothequagmiresofthebook-trade.

"Theypickupaliving,thesebeggars,whatwithbiographicalnotices,penny-a-lining,andscrapsofnewsforthepapers.Theybecomebooksellers"hacksfortheclear-headeddealersinprintedpaper,whowouldsoonertaketherubbishthatgoesoffinafortnightthanamasterpiecewhichrequirestimetosell.Thelifeiscrushedoutofthegrubsbeforetheyreachthebutterflystage.Theylivebyshameanddishonor.TheyarereadytowritedownarisinggeniusortopraisehimtotheskiesatawordfromthepashaoftheConstitutionnel,theQuotidienne,ortheDebats,atasignfromapublisher,attherequestofajealouscomrade,or(asnotseldomhappens)simplyforadinner.Somesurmounttheobstacles,andtheseforgetthemiseryoftheirearlydays.I,whoamtellingyouthis,havebeenputtingthebestthatisinmeintonewspaperarticlesforsixmonthspastforablackguardwhogivesthemoutashisownandhassecuredafeuilletoninanotherpaperonthestrengthofthem.Hehasnottakenmeonashiscollaborator,hehasnotgivemesomuchasafive-francpiece,butIholdoutahandtograsphiswhenwemeet;I

cannothelpmyself."

"Andwhy?"Lucien,asked,indignantly.

"Imaywanttoputadozenlinesintohisfeuilletonsomeday,"

Lousteauansweredcoolly."Inshort,mydearfellow,inliteratureyouwillnotmakemoneybyhardwork,thatisnotthesecretofsuccess;

thepointistoexploittheworkofsomebodyelse.Anewspaperproprietorisacontractor,wearethebricklayers.Themoremediocretheman,thebetterhischanceofgettingonamongmediocrities;hecanplaythetoad-eater,putupwithanytreatment,andflatterallthelittlebasepassionsofthesultansofliterature.ThereisHectorMerlin,whocamefromLimogesashorttimeago;heiswritingpoliticalarticlesalreadyforaRightCentredaily,andheisatworkonourlittlepaperaswell.IhaveseenaneditordrophishatandMerlinpickitup.Thefellowwascarefulnevertogiveoffence,andslippedintothethickofthefightbetweenrivalambitions.Iamsorryforyou.ItisasifIsawinyoutheselfthatIusedtobe,andsureamIthatinoneortwoyears"timeyouwillbewhatIamnow——Youwillthinkthatthereissomelurkingjealousyorpersonalmotiveinthisbittercounsel,butitispromptedbythedespairofadamnedsoulthatcanneverleavehell——Nooneventurestouttersuchthingsasthese.Youhearthegroansofanguishfromamanwoundedtotheheart,cryinglikeasecondJobfromtheashes,"Beholdmysores!""

"ButwhetherIfightuponthisfieldorelsewhere,fightImust,"saidLucien.

"Then,besureofthis,"returnedLousteau,"ifyouhaveanythinginyou,thewarwillknownotruce,thebestchanceofsuccessliesinanemptyhead.Theausterityofyourconscience,clearasyet,willrelaxwhenyouseethatamanholdsyourfutureinhistwohands,whenawordfromsuchamanmeanslifetoyou,andhewillnotsaythatword.

For,believeme,themostbrutalbooksellerinthetradeisnotsoinsolent,sohard-heartedtoanewcomerasthecelebrityoftheday.

Thebooksellerseesapossiblelossofmoney,whilethewriterofbooksdreadsapossiblerival;thefirstshowsyouthedoor,thesecondcrushesthelifeoutofyou.Todoreallygoodwork,myboy,meansthatyouwilldrawouttheenergy,sap,andtendernessofyournatureateverydipofthepenintheink,tosetitforthfortheworldinpassionandsentimentandphrases.Yes;insteadofacting,youwillwrite;youwillsingsongsinsteadoffighting;youwillloveandhateandliveinyourbooks;andthen,afterall,whenyoushallhavereservedyourrichesforyourstyle,yourgoldandpurpleforyourcharacters,andyouyourselfarewalkingthestreetsofParisinrags,rejoicinginthat,rivalingtheStateRegister,youhaveauthorizedtheexistenceofbeingsstyledAdolphe,CorinneorClarissa,ReneorManon;whenyoushallhavespoiledyourlifeandyourdigestiontogivelifetothatcreation,thenyoushallseeitslandered,betrayed,sold,sweptawayintothebackwatersofoblivionbyjournalists,andburiedoutofsightbyyourbestfriends.Howcanyouaffordtowaituntilthedaywhenyourcreationshallriseagain,raisedfromthedead——how?when?andbywhom?Takeamagnificentbook,thepiantoofunbelief;Obermannisasolitarywandererinthedesertplacesofbooksellers"warehouses,hehasbeena"nightingale,"

ironicallysocalled,fromtheverybeginning:whenwillhisEastercome?Whoknows?Try,tobeginwith,tofindsomebodyboldenoughtoprinttheMarguerites;nottopayforthem,butsimplytoprintthem;

andyouwillseesomequeerthings."

Thefiercetirade,deliveredineverytoneofthepassionatefeelingwhichitexpressed,felluponLucien"sspiritlikeanavalanche,andleftasenseofglacialcold.Foronemomenthestoodsilent;then,ashefelttheterriblestimulatingcharmofdifficultybeginningtoworkuponhim,hiscourageblazedup.HegraspedLousteau"shand.

"Iwilltriumph!"hecriedaloud.

"Good!"saidtheother,"onemoreChristiangivenovertothewildbeastsinthearena——Thereisafirst-nightperformanceatthePanorama-Dramatique,mydearfellow;itdoesn"tbegintilleight,soyoucanchangeyourcoat,comeproperlydressedinfact,andcallforme.IamlivingonthefourthfloorabovetheCafeServel,RuedelaHarpe.WewillgotoDauriat"sfirstofall.Youstillmeantogoon,doyounot?Verywell,Iwillintroduceyoutooneofthekingsofthetradeto-night,andtooneortwojournalists.Wewillsupwithmymistressandseveralfriendsaftertheplay,foryoucannotcountthatdinnerasameal.Finotwillbethere,editorandproprietorofmypaper.AsMinettesaysintheVaudeville(doyouremember?),"Timeisagreatleancreature."Well,forthelikeofus,Chanceisagreatleancreature,andmustbetempted."

"IshallrememberthisdayaslongasIlive,"saidLucien.

"Bringyourmanuscriptwithyou,andbecarefulofyourdress,notonFlorine"saccount,butforthebooksellers"benefit."

Thecomrade"sgood-nature,followinguponthepoet"spassionateoutcry,ashedescribedthewarofletters,movedLucienquiteasdeeplyasd"Arthez"sgraveandearnestwordsonaformeroccasion.Theprospectofenteringatonceuponthestrifewithmenwarmedhim.Inhisyouthandinexperiencehehadnosuspicionhowrealwerethemoralevilsdenouncedbythejournalist.Nordidheknowthathewasstandingatthepartingoftwodistinctways,betweentwosystems,representedbythebrotherhoodupononehand,andjournalismupontheother.Thefirstwaywaslong,honorable,andsure;thesecondbesetwithhiddendangers,aperilouspath,amongmuddychannelswhereconscienceisinevitablybespattered.ThebentofLucien"scharacterdeterminedfortheshorterway,andtheapparentlypleasanterway,andtosnatchatthequickestandpromptestmeans.Atthismomenthesawnodifferencebetweend"Arthez"snoblefriendshipandLousteau"seasycomaraderie;hisinconstantminddiscernedanewweaponinjournalism;

hefeltthathecouldwieldit,sohewishedtotakeit.

Hewasdazzledbytheoffersofthisnewfriend,whohadstruckahandinhisinaneasyway,whichcharmedLucien.Howshouldheknowthatwhileeverymaninthearmyofthepressneedsfriends,everyleaderneedsmen.Lousteau,seeingthatLucienwasresolute,enlistedhimasarecruit,andhopedtoattachhimtohimself.Therelativepositionsofthetwoweresimilar——onehopedtobecomeacorporal,theothertoentertheranks.

Lucienwentbackgailytohislodgings.HewasascarefuloverhistoiletasonthatformerunluckyoccasionwhenheoccupiedtheMarquised"Espard"sbox;buthehadlearnedbythistimehowtowearhisclotheswithabettergrace.Theylookedasthoughtheybelongedtohim.Heworehisbesttightly-fitting,light-coloredtrousers,andadress-coat.Hisboots,averyelegantpairadornedwithtassels,hadcosthimfortyfrancs.Histhick,fine,goldenhairwasscentedandcrimpedintobright,ripplingcurls.Self-confidenceandbeliefinhisfuturelighteduphisforehead.Hepaidcarefulattentiontohisalmostfemininehands,thefilbertnailswereaspotlesspink,andthewhitecontoursofhischinweredazzlingbycontrastwithablacksatinstock.NeverdidamorebeautifulyouthcomedownfromthehillsoftheLatinQuarter.

GloriousasaGreekgod,Lucientookacab,andreachedtheCafeServelataquartertoseven.Theretheportressgavehimsometolerablycomplicateddirectionsfortheascentoffourpairsofstairs.Providedwiththeseinstructions,hediscovered,notwithoutdifficulty,anopendoorattheendofalong,darkpassage,andinanothermomentmadetheacquaintanceofthetraditionalroomoftheLatinQuarter.

Ayoungman"spovertyfollowshimwhereverhegoes——intotheRuedelaHarpeasintotheRuedeCluny,intod"Arthez"sroom,intoChrestien"slodging;yeteverywherenolessthepovertyhasitsownpeculiarcharacteristics,duetotheidiosyncrasiesofthesufferer.Povertyinthiscaseworeasinisterlook.

Ashabby,cheapcarpetlayinwrinklesatthefootofacurtainlesswalnut-woodbedstead;dingycurtains,begrimedwithcigarsmokeandfumesfromasmokychimney,hunginthewindows;aCarcellamp,Florine"sgift,onthechimney-piece,hadsofarescapedthepawnbroker.Addaforlorn-lookingchestofdrawers,andatablelitteredwithpapersanddisheveledquillpens,andthelistoffurniturewasalmostcomplete.Allthebookshadevidentlyarrivedinthecourseofthelasttwenty-fourhours;andtherewasnotasingleobjectofanyvalueintheroom.Inonecorneryoubeheldacollectionofcrushedandflattenedcigars,coiledpocket-handkerchiefs,shirtswhichhadbeenturnedtododoubleduty,andcravatsthathadreachedathirdedition;whileasordidarrayofoldbootsstoodgapinginanotherangleoftheroomamongagedsockswornintolace.

Theroom,inshort,wasajournalist"sbivouac,filledwithoddsandendsofnovalue,andthemostcuriouslybareapartmentimaginable.A

scarlettinder-boxglowedamongapileofbooksonthenightstand.A

braceofpistols,aboxofcigars,andastrayrazorlayuponthemantel-shelf;apairoffoils,crossedunderawiremask,hungagainstapanel.Threechairsandacoupleofarmchairs,scarcelyfitfortheshabbiestlodging-houseinthestreet,completedtheinventory.

Thedirty,cheerlessroomtoldataleofarestlesslifeandawantofself-respect;someonecamehithertosleepandworkathighpressure,stayingnolongerthanhecouldhelp,longing,whileheremained,tobeoutandaway.Whatadifferencebetweenthiscynicaldisorderandd"Arthez"sneatandself-respectingpoverty!Awarningcamewiththethoughtofd"Arthez;butLucienwouldnotheedit,forEtiennemadeajokingremarktocoverthenakednessofarecklesslife.

"Thisismykennel;IappearinstateintheRuedeBondy,inthenewapartmentswhichourdruggisthastakenforFlorine;weholdthehouse-warmingthisevening."

EtienneLousteauworeblacktrousersandbeautifully-varnishedboots;

hiscoatwasbuttoneduptohischin;heprobablymeanttochangehislinenatFlorine"shouse,forhisshirtcollarwashiddenbyavelvetstock.Hewastryingtorenovatehishatbyanapplicationofthebrush.

"Letusgo,"saidLucien.

"Notyet.Iamwaitingforabooksellertobringmesomemoney;Ihavenotafarthing;therewillbeplay,perhaps,andinanycaseImusthavegloves."

Ashespoke,thetwonewfriendsheardaman"sstepinthepassageoutside.

"Thereheis,"saidLousteau."Nowyouwillsee,mydearfellow,theshapethatProvidencetakeswhenhemanifestshimselftopoets.YouaregoingtobeholdDauriat,thefashionablebookselleroftheQuaidesAugustins,thepawnbroker,themarinestoredealerofthetrade,theNormanex-greengrocer——Comealong,oldTartar!"shoutedLousteau.

"HereamI,"saidavoicelikeacrackedbell.

"Broughtthemoneywithyou?"

"Money?Thereisnomoneynowinthetrade,"retortedtheother,ayoungmanwhoeyedLuciencuriously.

"Imprimis,youowemefiftyfrancs,"Lousteaucontinued.

"TherearetwocopiesofTravelsinEgypthere,amarvel,sotheysay,swarmingwithwoodcuts,suretosell.FinothasbeenpaidfortworeviewsthatIamtowriteforhim.ITEMtwoworks,justout,byVictorDucange,anovelisthighlythoughtofintheMarais.ITEMacoupleofcopiesofasecondworkbyPauldeKock,abeginnerinthesamestyle.ITEMtwocopiesofYseultofDole,acharmingprovincialwork.Total,onehundredfrancs,mylittleBarbet."

Barbetmadeaclosesurveyofedgesandbinding.

"Oh!theyareinperfectcondition,"criedLousteau."TheTravelsareuncut,soisthePauldeKock,soistheDucange,soisthatotherthingonthechimney-piece,ConsiderationsonSymbolism.Iwillthrowthatin;mythswearymetothatdegreethatIwillletyouhavethethingtosparemyselfthesightoftheswarmsofmitescomingoutofit."

"But,"askedLucien,"howareyougoingtowriteyourreviews?"

Barbet,inprofoundastonishment,staredatLucien;thenhelookedatEtienneandchuckled.

"Onecanseethatthegentlemanhasnotthemisfortunetobealiteraryman,"saidhe.

"No,Barbet——no.Heisapoet,agreatpoet;heisgoingtocutoutCanalis,andBeranger,andDelavigne.Hewillgoalongwayifhedoesnotthrowhimselfintotheriver,andevensohewillgetasfarasthedrag-netsatSaint-Cloud."

"IfIhadanyadvicetogivethegentleman,"remarkedBarbet,"itwouldbetogiveuppoetryandtaketoprose.PoetryisnotwantedontheQuaisjustnow."

Barbet"sshabbyovercoatwasfastenedbyasinglebutton;hiscollarwasgreasy;hekepthishatonhisheadashespoke;heworelowshoes,anopenwaistcoatgaveglimpsesofahomelyshirtofcoarselinen.Good-naturewasnotwantingintheroundcountenance,withitstwoslitsofcovetouseyes;buttherewaslikewisethevagueuneasinesshabitualtothosewhohavemoneytospendandhearconstantapplicationsforit.Yet,toallappearance,hewasplain-dealingandeasy-natured,hisbusinessshrewdnesswassowellwaddedroundwithfat.HehadbeenanassistantuntilhetookawretchedlittleshopontheQuaidesAugustinstwoyearssince,andissuedthenceonhisroundsamongjournalists,authors,andprinters,buyingupfreecopiescheaply,makinginsuchwayssometenortwentyfrancsdaily.Now,hehadmoneysaved;heknewinstinctivelywhereeverymanwaspressed;hehadakeeneyeforbusiness.Ifanauthorwasindifficulties,hewoulddiscountabillgivenbyapublisheratfifteenortwentypercent;thenthenextdayhewouldgotothepublisher,haggleoverthepriceofsomeworkindemand,andpayhimwithhisownbillsinsteadofcash.Barbetwassomethingofascholar;hehadhadjustenougheducationtomakehimcarefultosteerclearofmodernpoetryandmodernromances.Hehadalikingforsmallspeculations,forbooksofapopularkindwhichmightbeboughtoutrightforathousandfrancsandexploitedatpleasure,suchastheChild"sHistoryofFrance,Book-keepinginTwentyLessons,andBotanyforYoungLadies.Twoorthreetimesalreadyhehadallowedagoodbooktoslipthroughhisfingers;theauthorshadcomeandgoneascoreoftimeswhilehehesitated,andcouldnotmakeuphismindtobuythemanuscript.Whenreproachedforhispusillanimity,hewaswonttoproducetheaccountofanotorioustrialtakenfromthenewspapers;itcosthimnothing,andhadbroughthimintwoorthreethousandfrancs.

Barbetwasthetypeofbooksellerthatgoesinfearandtrembling;

livesonbreadandwalnuts;rarelyputshisnametoabill;filcheslittleprofitsoninvoices;makesdeductions,andhawkshisbooksabouthimself;heavenonlyknowswheretheygo,buthesellsthemsomehow,andgetspaidforthem.Barbetwastheterrorofprinters,whocouldnottellwhattomakeofhim;hepaidcashandtookoffthediscount;henibbledattheirinvoiceswheneverhethoughtheywerepressedformoney;andwhenhehadfleecedamanonce,heneverwentbacktohim——hefearedtobecaughtinhisturn.

"Well,"saidLousteau,"shallwegoonwithourbusiness?"

"Eh!myboy,"returnedBarbetinafamiliartone;"Ihavesixthousandvolumesofstockonhandatmyplace,andpaperisnotgold,astheoldbooksellersaid.Tradeisdull."

"Ifyouwentintohisshop,mydearLucien,"saidEtienne,turningtohisfriend,"youwouldseeanoakcounterfromsomebankruptwinemerchant"ssale,andatallowdip,neversnuffedforfearitshouldburntooquickly,makingdarknessvisible.Bythatanomalouslightyoudescryrowsofemptyshelveswithsomedifficulty.Anurchininablueblousemountsguardovertheemptiness,andblowshisfingers,andshuffleshisfeet,andslapshischest,likeacabmanonthebox.Justlookaboutyou!therearenomorebookstherethanIhavehere.Nobodycouldguesswhatkindofshophekeeps."

"Hereisabillatthreemonthsforahundredfrancs,"saidBarbet,andhecouldnothelpsmilingashedrewitoutofhispocket;"Iwilltakeyouroldbooksoffyourhands.Ican"tpaycashanylonger,yousee;salesaretooslow.Ithoughtthatyouwouldbewantingme;Ihadnotapenny,andImadeabillsimplytoobligeyou,forIamnotfondofgivingmysignature."

"Soyouwantmythanksandesteemintothebargain,doyou?"

"Billsarenotmetwithsentiment,"respondedBarbet;"butIwillacceptyouresteem,allthesame."

"ButIwantgloves,andtheperfumerswillbebaseenoughtodeclineyourpaper,"saidLousteau."Stop,thereisasuperbengravinginthetopdrawerofthechestthere,wortheightyfrancs,proofbeforelettersandafterletterpress,forIhavewrittenaprettydrollarticleuponit.TherewassomethingtolayholdofinHippocratesrefusingthePresentsofArtaxerxes.Afineengraving,eh?Justthethingtosuitallthedoctors,whoarerefusingtheextravagantgiftsofParisiansatraps.Youwillfindtwoorthreedozennovelsunderneathit.Come,now,takethelotandgivemefortyfrancs."

"FORTYFRANCS!"exclaimedthebookseller,emittingacrylikethesquallofafrightenedfowl."Twentyattheverymost!AndthenImayneverseethemoneyagain,"headded.

"Whereareyourtwentyfrancs?"askedLousteau.

"Myword,Idon"tknowthatIhavethem,"saidBarbet,fumblinginhispockets."Heretheyare.Youareplunderingme;youhaveanascendencyoverme——"

"Come,letusbeoff,"saidLousteau,andtakingupLucien"smanuscript,hedrewalineuponitininkunderthestring.

"Haveyouanythingelse?"askedBarbet.

"Nothing,youyoungShylock.Iamgoingtoputyouinthewayofabitofverygoodbusiness,"Etiennecontinued("inwhichyoushallloseathousandcrowns,toteachyoutorobmeinthisfashion"),headdedforLucien"sear.

"Buthowaboutyourreviews?"saidLucien,astheyrolledawaytothePalaisRoyal.

"Pooh!youdonotknowhowreviewsareknockedoff.AsfortheTravelsinEgypt,Ilookedintothebookhereandthere(withoutcuttingthepages),andIfoundelevenslipsingrammar.Ishallsaythatthewritermayhavemasteredthedicky-birdlanguageontheflintsthattheycall"obelisks"outthereinEgypt,buthecannotwriteinhisown,asIwillprovetohiminacolumnandahalf.Ishallsaythatinsteadofgivingusthenaturalhistoryandarchaeology,heoughttohaveinterestedhimselfinthefutureofEgypt,intheprogressofcivilization,andthebestmethodofstrengtheningthebondbetweenEgyptandFrance.FrancehaswonandlostEgypt,butshemayyetattachthecountrytoherinterestsbygainingamoralascendencyoverit.Thensomepatrioticpenny-a-lining,interlardedwithdiatribesonMarseilles,theLevantandourtrade."

"Butsupposethathehadtakenthatview,whatwouldyoudo?"

"Ohwell,Ishouldsaythatinsteadofboringuswithpolitics,heshouldhavewrittenaboutart,anddescribedthepicturesqueaspectsofthecountryandthelocalcolor.Thenthecriticbewailshimself.

Politicsareintrudedeverywhere;wearewearyofpolitics——politicsonallsides.Ishouldregretthosecharmingbooksoftravelthatdweltuponthedifficultiesofnavigation,thefascinationofsteeringbetweentworocks,thedelightsofcrossingtheline,andallthethingsthatthosewhoneverwilltraveloughttoknow.Minglethisapprovalwithscoffingatthetravelerswhohailtheappearanceofabirdoraflying-fishasagreatevent,whodilateuponfishing,andmaketranscriptsfromthelog.Where,youask,isthatperfectlyunintelligiblescientificinformation,fascinating,likeallthatisprofound,mysterious,andincomprehensible.Thereaderlaughs,thatisallthathewants.Asfornovels,Florineisthegreatestnovelreaderalive;shegivesmeasynopsis,andItakeheropinionandputareviewtogether.Whenanovelistboresherwith"author"sstuff,"asshecallsit,Itreattheworkrespectfully,andaskthepublisherforanothercopy,whichhesendsforthwith,delightedtohaveafavorablereview."

"Goodness!andwhatofcriticism,thecritic"ssacredoffice?"criedLucien,rememberingtheideasinstilledintohimbythebrotherhood.

"Mydearfellow,"saidLousteau,"criticismisakindofbrushwhichmustnotbeuseduponflimsystuff,oritcarriesitallawaywithit.

Thatisenoughofthecraft,nowlisten!Doyouseethatmark?"hecontinued,pointingtothemanuscriptoftheMarguerites."Ihaveputinkonthestringandpaper.IfDauriatreadsyourmanuscript,hecertainlycouldnottiethestringandleaveitjustasitwasbefore.

Soyourbookissealed,sotospeak.Thisisnotuselesstoyoufortheexperimentthatyouproposetomake.Andanotherthing:pleasetoobservethatyouarenotarrivingquitealoneandwithoutasponsorintheplace,liketheyoungsterswhomaketheroundofhalf-a-scoreofpublishersbeforetheyfindonethatwillofferthemachair."

Lucien"sexperienceconfirmedthetruthofthisparticular.Lousteaupaidthecabman,givinghimthreefrancs——apieceofprodigalityfollowinguponsuchimpecuniosityastonishingLucienmorethanalittle.ThenthetwofriendsenteredtheWoodenGalleries,wherefashionableliterature,asitiscalled,usedtoreigninstate.

PARTII

TheWoodenGalleriesofthePalaisRoyalusedtobeoneofthemostfamoussightsofParis.Somedescriptionofthesqualidbazarwillnotbeoutofplace;fortherearefewmenoffortywhowillnottakeaninterestinrecollectionsofastateofthingswhichwillseemincredibletoayoungergeneration.

Thegreatdreary,spaciousGaleried"Orleans,thatflowerlesshothouse,asyetwasnot;thespaceuponwhichitnowstandswascoveredwithbooths;or,tobemoreprecise,withsmall,woodendens,pervioustotheweather,anddimlyilluminatedonthesideofthecourtandthegardenbyborrowedlightsstyledwindowsbycourtesy,butmorelikethefilthiestarrangementsforobscuringdaylighttobefoundinlittlewineshopsinthesuburbs.

TheGalleries,parallelpassagesabouttwelvefeetinheight,wereformedbyatriplerowofshops.Thecentrerow,givingbackandfrontupontheGalleries,wasfilledwiththefetidatmosphereoftheplace,andderivedadubiousdaylightthroughtheinvariablydirtywindowsoftheroof;butsothrongedwerethesehives,thatrentswereexcessivelyhigh,andasmuchasathousandcrownswaspaidforaspacescarcesixfeetbyeight.Theouterrowsgaverespectivelyuponthegardenandthecourt,andwerecoveredonthatsidebyaslighttrellis-workpaintedgreen,toprotectthecrazyplasteredwallsfromcontinualfrictionwiththepassers-by.Inafewsquarefeetofearthatthebackoftheshops,strangefreaksofvegetablelifeunknowntosciencegrewamidtheproductsofvariousnolessflourishingindustries.Youbeheldarosebushcappedwithprintedpaperinsuchasortthattheflowersofrhetoricwereperfumedbythecankeredblossomsofthatill-kept,ill-smellinggarden.Handbillsandribbonstreamersofeveryhueflauntedgailyamongtheleaves;naturalflowerscompetedunsuccessfullyforanexistencewithoddsandendsofmillinery.Youdiscoveredaknotofribbonadorningagreentuft;thedahliaadmiredafarprovedonanearerviewtobeasatinrosette.

ThePalaisseenfromthecourtorfromthegardenwasafantasticsight,agrotesquecombinationofwallsofplasterpatchworkwhichhadoncebeenwhitewashed,ofblisteredpaint,heterogeneousplacards,andallthemostunaccountablefreaksofParisiansqualor;thegreentrelliseswereprodigiouslythedingierforconstantcontactwithaParisianpublic.So,uponeitherside,thefetid,disreputableapproachesmighthavebeentherefortheexpresspurposeofwarningawayfastidiouspeople;butfastidiousfolknomorerecoiledbeforethesehorrorsthantheprinceinthefairystoriesturnstailatsightofthedragonoroftheotherobstaclesputbetweenhimandtheprincessbythewickedfairy.

TherewasapassagethroughthecentreoftheGalleriesthenasnow;

and,asatthepresentday,youenteredthemthroughthetwoperistylesbegunbeforetheRevolution,andleftunfinishedforlackoffunds;butinplaceofthehandsomemodernarcadeleadingtotheTheatre-Francais,youpassedalonganarrow,disproportionatelyloftypassage,soill-roofedthattheraincamethroughonwetdays.Alltheroofsofthehovelsindeedwereinverybadrepair,andcoveredhereandagainwithadoublethicknessoftarpaulin.AfamoussilkmerceroncebroughtanactionagainsttheOrleansfamilyfordamagesdoneinthecourseofanighttohisstockofshawlsandstuffs,andgainedthedayandaconsiderablesum.Itwasinthislast-namedpassage,called"TheGlassGallery"todistinguishitfromtheWoodenGalleries,thatChevetlaidthefoundationsofhisfortunes.

Here,inthePalais,youtrodthenaturalsoilofParis,augmentedbyimportationsbroughtinuponthebootsoffootpassengers;here,atallseasons,youstumbledamonghillsandhollowsofdriedmudsweptdailybytheshopman"sbesom,andonlyaftersomepracticecouldyouwalkatyourease.Thetreacherousmud-heaps,thewindow-panesincrustedwithdepositsofdustandrain,themean-lookinghovelscoveredwithraggedplacards,thegrimyunfinishedwalls,thegeneralairofacompromisebetweenagypsycamp,theboothsofacountryfair,andthetemporarystructuresthatweinParisbuildroundaboutpublicmonumentsthatremainunbuilt;thegrotesqueaspectofthemartasawholewasinkeepingwiththeseethingtrafficofvariouskindscarriedonwithinit;forhereinthisshameless,unblushinghaunt,amidwildmirthandababeloftalk,animmenseamountofbusinesswastransactedbetweentheRevolutionof1789andtheRevolutionof1830.

FortwentyyearstheBoursestoodjustopposite,onthegroundfloorofthePalais.Publicopinionwasmanufactured,andreputationsmadeandruinedhere,justaspoliticalandfinancialjobswerearranged.

PeoplemadeappointmentstomeetintheGalleriesbeforeorafter"Change;onshowerydaysthePalaisRoyalwasoftencrowdedwithweather-boundcapitalistsandmenofbusiness.Thestructurewhichhadgrownup,nooneknewhow,aboutthispointwasstrangelyresonant,laughterwasmultiplied;iftwomenquarreled,thewholeplacerangfromoneendtotheotherwiththedispute.Inthedaytimemillinersandbooksellersenjoyedamonopolyoftheplace;towardsnightfallitwasfilledwithwomenofthetown.Heredweltpoetry,politics,andprose,newbooksandclassics,thegloriesofancientandmodernliteraturesidebysidewithpoliticalintrigueandthetricksofthebookseller"strade.Herealltheverylatestandnewestliteratureweresoldtoapublicwhichresolutelydeclinetobuyelsewhere.

SometimesseveralthousandcopiesofsuchandsuchapamphletbyPaul-

LouisCourierwouldbesoldinasingleevening;andpeoplecrowdedthithertobuyLesaventuresdelafilled"unRoi——thatfirstshotfiredbytheOrleanistsatTheCharterpromulgatedbyLouisXVIII.

WhenLucienmadehisfirstappearanceintheWoodenGalleries,somefewoftheshopsboastedproperfrontsandhandsomewindows,buttheseineverycaselookeduponthecourtorthegarden.Asforthecentrerow,untilthedaywhenthewholestrangecolonyperishedunderthehammerofFontainethearchitect,everyshopwasopenbackandfrontlikeaboothinacountryfair,sothatfromwithinyoucouldlookoutuponeithersidethroughgapsamongthegoodsdisplayedorthroughtheglassdoors.Asitwasobviouslyimpossibletokindleafire,thetradesmenwerefaintousecharcoalchafing-dishes,andformedasortofbrigadeforthepreventionoffiresamongthemselves;and,indeed,alittlecarelessnessmighthavesetthewholequarterblazinginfifteenminutes,fortheplank-builtrepublic,driedbytheheatofthesun,andhauntedbytooinflammablehumanmaterial,wasbedizenedwithmuslinandpaperandgauze,andventilatedattimesbyathoroughdraught.

Themilliners"windowswerefullofimpossiblehatsandbonnets,displayedapparentlyforadvertisementratherthanforsale,eachonaseparateironspitwithaknobatthetop.Thegalleriesweredeckedoutinallthecolorsoftherainbow.Onwhatheadswouldthosedustybonnetsendtheircareers?——forascoreofyearstheproblemhadpuzzledfrequentersofthePalais.Saleswomen,usuallyplain-featured,butvivacious,waylaidthefemininefootpassengerwithcunningimportunities,afterthefashionofmarket-women,andusingmuchthesamelanguage;ashop-girl,whomadefreeuseofhereyesandtongue,satoutsideonastoolandharanguedthepublicwith"Buyaprettybonnet,madame?——Doletmesellyousomething!"——varyingarichandpicturesquevocabularywithinflectionsofthevoice,withglances,andremarksuponthepassers-by.Booksellersandmillinerslivedontermsofmutualunderstanding.