family? Undoubtedly
ethics and
morality cannot change; they are
one: but obligations vary in the different states of life. Just as
the sun lights up a scene diversely and produces differences which
we admire, so
morality conforms social duty to rank, to position.
The peccadillo of a soldier is a crime in a general, and vice-
versa. Observances are not alike in all cases. They are not the
same for the gleaner in the field, for the girl who sews at
fifteen sous a day, for the daughter of a petty
shopkeeper, for
the young bourgoise, for the child of a rich merchant, for the
heiress of a noble family, for a daughter of the house of Este. A
king must not stoop to pick up a piece of gold, but a laborer
ought to retrace his steps to find ten sous; though both are
equally bound to obey the laws of
economy. A daughter of Este, who
is worth six millions, has the right to wear a broad-brimmed hat
and plume, to
flourish her whip, press the flanks of her barb, and
ride like an
amazon decked in gold lace, with a lackey behind her,
into the presence of a poet and say: "I love
poetry; and I would
fain expiate Leonora's
cruelty to Tasso!" but a daughter of the
people would cover herself with
ridicule by imitating her. To what
class do you belong? Answer
sincerely, and I will answer the
question you have put to me.
As I have not the honor of
knowing you
personally, and yet am
bound to you, in a
measure, by the ties of
poeticcommunion, I am
unwilling to offer any
commonplace compliments. Perhaps you have
already won a
maliciousvictory by thus embarrassing a maker of
books.
The young man was certainly not
wanting in the sort of shrewdness
which is permissible to a man of honor. By return
courier he received
an answer:--
To Monsieur de Canalis,--You grow more and more
sensible, my dear
poet. My father is a count. The chief glory of our house was a
cardinal, in the days when cardinals walked the earth by the side
of kings. I am the last of our family, which ends in me; but I
have the necessary quarterings to make my entry into any court or
chapter-house in Europe. We are quite the equals of the Canalis.
You will be so kind as to excuse me from sending you our arms.
Endeavor to answer me as truthfully as I have now answered you. I
await your
response to know if I can then sign myself as I do now,
Your servant, O. d'Este M.
"The little mischief! how she abuses her privileges," cried La Briere;
"but isn't she frank!"
No young man can be four years private secretary to a cabinet
minister, and live in Paris and observe the carrying on of many
intrigues, with perfect
impunity; in fact, the purest soul is more or
less intoxicated by the heady
atmosphere of the
imperial city. Happy
in the thought that he was not Canalis, our young secretary engaged a
place in the mail-coach for Havre, after
writing a letter in which he
announced that the promised answer would be sent a few days later,--
excusing the delay on the ground of the importance of the confession
and the
pressure of his duties at the ministry.
He took care to get from the director-general of the
post-office a
note to the postmaster at Havre, requesting
secrecy and attention to
his wishes. Ernest was thus enabled to see Francoise Cochet when she
came for the letters, and to follow her without exciting observation.
Guided by her, he reached Ingouville and saw Modeste Mignon at the
window of the Chalet.
"Well, Francoise?" he heard the young girl say, to which the maid
responded,--
"Yes,
mademoiselle, I have one."
Struck by the girl's great beauty, Ernest retraced his steps and asked
a man on the street the name of the owner of that
magnificent estate.
"That?" said the man, nodding to the villa.
"Yes, my friend."
"Oh, that belongs to Monsieur Vilquin, the richest
shipping merchant
in Havre, so rich he doesn't know what he is worth."