CHAPTER XII.

The testament had been written two months previous and was in these

terms:

"MY BELOVED SON:"

"When you read these lines I shall have ceased to live."

"You have always believed me poor; but I leave you an immense fortune

accumulated by my _avarice_.

"I have been _miserly_, and do not attempt to excuse my fault; far from

it, I am proud of it and glory in it.

"And this is why:

"Until the day of your birth, which robbed me of your mother, I was

unmindful of augmenting my patrimony and the dowry brought me by my

wife; the moment I had a son, however, that sentiment of foresight,

which becomes a sacred duty to a father, took possession of me,

developing slowly into a love of economy, then into parsimony, and

finally into avarice.

"Moreover, you never suffered through the privations I imposed upon

myself. Born sound and robust, the virile simplicity of your education

has, I believe, aided the development of your excellent constitution.

"When you reached the age of instruction, I sent you to a school opened

to the children of poor parents; to begin with, it was a means of

economy; and besides, this mode of education was calculated to form and

develop habits of a modest, laborious life. The success of this plan

surpassed my expectations. Raised among poor children, you never

acquired those factitious, expensive tastes; never experienced those

bitter envies or vain jealousies which often influence our fate fatally.

"I also spared you many griefs which, though childish, are none the

less cruel.

"You have never had to compare your condition to others more elevated

or more opulent than your own.

"You have never felt the pangs of that envious hatred inspired by

comrades in speaking of the splendor of their homes, boasting of the

antique nobility of their race, or the wealth they would enjoy some day.

"It is generally believed that because children of dissimilar

conditions wear the same uniform, eat at the same table, and follow the

same course of study, a sentiment of equality exists between them.

"This is a deep error.

"Social inequality is as well understood among children as it is among

their elders.

"The son of a rich bourgeois or of a nobleman, almost invariably

betrays at the age of ten the arrogance, or haughtiness he will display

in fifteen years later.

"Whether children are _little men_, or men are _grown children_ matters

little; all have the consciousness of their condition.

"As for you, surrounded as you were by children of the poor, you heard

them continually speak of the hard labors of their parents; the

indispensable necessity of work was therefore early impressed on your

mind.

"Others of your companions dwelt on the privations and miseries endured

by their families; you thus became accustomed to the idea of our

poverty.

"Lastly, you saw the greater number of these children resigned and

courageous--two of the greatest virtues in the world--and until now, my

beloved son, courage and resignation have never failed you.

"At fifteen you competed for a scholarship in one of the high schools,

where you finished your studies. Your first education had already

borne excellent fruits; for, although many of your new companions

belonged to the aristocratic world, their contact never altered your

precious qualities, and you never knew the meaning of either jealousy

or envy.

"Later, you entered as junior clerk in a notary's office, with a man

who has long been my friend, and who alone holds the secret and

administers my fortune. Until now, the discretion of this friend has

equaled his devotion. Near him, you have acquired a perfect knowledge

of business; and, thanks to my foresight, you shall be in a position to

skilfully and advantageously administer the considerable wealth I have

amassed.

"My conscience does not reproach me; and yet, I admit that I sometimes

fear you will address this reproach to my memory:

"_While you accumulated these riches, my father, you condemned me

without mercy to the most cruel privations_.

"Reflection drives this fear from my heart, however; I remember how

frequently you have assured me that you were satisfied with your

condition, and that if you desired luxuries it was only for my sake.

"In fact, your inexhaustible humor and gentleness, your natural gaiety

of spirits and tender affection for me sufficiently prove that you are

contented. Moreover, do I not share your privations? Your own

economies, added to my earnings as a public scribe, have permitted us

to live without touching my revenues. The capital has thus been

growing for twenty years in the hands of my prudent administrator.

"On the day on which I pen these lines, my fortune amounts to about two

millions and a half.

"I know not how many years of life may still be allotted to me, but in

ten years I shall have attained the average length of human life; you

shall then be thirty-five years of age; and since a capital doubles

itself in ten years, my wealth shall have attained the enormous sum of

four or five millions.

"Unless I am stricken down suddenly, you shall therefore, in all

probability, attain your complete maturity before entering into

possession of these riches. Your sober, modest, industrious habits,

contracted in childhood, shall be as a second nature to you; and your

knowledge of business will be still more developed by practice. Add to

these advantages your uprightness of mind, your strong physical

constitution--unimpaired by early excesses--and you will find yourself

in the best possible condition to inherit the wealth I have amassed, as

well as to enjoy it according to your own tastes which, I am sure, can

be nothing but generous and honorable.

"You may, perhaps, ask why I simply left my capital to multiply by

itself, instead of attempting some great financial operation or

enjoying the delights of luxury?

"I shall tell you why, my dear child.

"Although my avarice had its origin in a sentiment of paternal

foresight, it has now assumed all the inherent characteristics of a

violent passion.

"I could, and can still, deprive myself of everything to accumulate

riches upon riches, happy in the thought that it is all for you, and

that you will enjoy this gold some day; but to release my hold on any

part of my belongings, for any object whatever, or risk anything in

financial operations is impossible--no! not while I live! It would be

tearing my heart out by the core; for the possession of his treasure is

life itself to a miser. Without spending or risking one farthing, I

can give myself up in imagination to the most hazardous or magnificent

operations. And this is neither a vain desire nor an empty dream. No!

no! with what I possess, those magnificences and splendors are

realizable to-day, to-morrow, this very hour, if I choose.

"How then can you expect that a miser should have the courage or will

to release his hold on such a talisman? What! for one project, one

realized dream, would I sacrifice a thousand projects, a thousand

realizable dreams? Besides, is not my son happy as he is? Would he

not be the pride of the proudest of fathers? And is it not for him,

_for him only_, that I hoard up these treasures?

"Had I acted differently, what would have been the result?

"Had I been lavish, my prodigality would have left you in misery; and

had I spent my income only, we would doubtless have lived in idleness

and enjoyed a few physical joys or vain satisfactions, but what would

we have gained?

"Should we have become better? I know not. But at my death I would

have left you a reasonable income only, and not sufficient to realize

any large and generous undertaking.

"One last word, my dear son, in answer to a reproach you may address my

memory.

"Believe me, if you have been left in ignorance of my riches, it was

not through a sentiment of dissimulation or distrust of you.

"These were my reasons:

"Had you known of my riches, though you might perhaps have accepted the

humble existence I imposed on you without a murmur, you would have

accused me in your heart of harshness and egotism; and, who knows, the

certainty of future riches might perhaps also have impaired your

precious qualities.

"This is not all---forgive me this foolish fear, this apprehension

which is so unjust to your excellent heart--but to enjoy your filial

affection in all its purity and disinterestedness during my life, it

was necessary that you should have no thought of an opulent inheritance

after my death.

"Another reason, the gravest of all, perhaps, has led me to conceal my

riches--I love you so tenderly, that it would have been impossible for

me to see you undergo any privation if you had known that I could

provide the most sumptuous existence for you.

"Notwithstanding the apparent contradiction that seems to exist between

this sentiment and my avaricious conduct toward you, I hope, my dear

child, that you will understand my thought.

"And now, I place myself in spirit face to face with death, which may

strike me to-day, to-morrow, or this very hour; and I declare, in this

supreme and solemn moment, that I bless you from the depth of my soul,

my dear beloved child, you who have given me joy and happiness only in

this world.

"Be a hundred times blessed, Louis, my good, affectionate son; be happy

according to your merits, and my last wishes will be accomplished.

"Your father, A. RICHARD.

"Written and copied in Paris, February 25, 18--"

A Cardinal Sin · 第 12 / 21 章