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’
Which
of
you
would
not
be
delighted
to
have
a
son
guillotined
at
a
price
like
this
,
’
will
be
the
message
they
will
read
in
his
eyes
.
"
This
philosophy
might
be
true
,
but
it
was
of
such
a
character
as
to
make
him
wish
for
death
.
In
this
way
five
long
days
went
by
.
He
was
polite
and
gentle
to
Mathilde
,
whom
he
saw
was
exasperated
by
the
most
violent
jealousy
.
One
evening
Julien
seriously
thought
of
taking
his
own
life
.
His
soul
was
demoralised
by
the
deep
unhappiness
in
which
madame
de
Rênal
’
s
departure
had
thrown
him
.
He
could
no
longer
find
pleasure
in
anything
,
either
in
real
life
or
in
the
sphere
of
the
imagination
.
Lack
of
exercise
began
to
affect
his
health
,
and
to
produce
in
him
all
the
weakness
and
exaltation
of
a
young
German
student
.
He
began
to
lose
that
virile
disdain
which
repels
with
a
drastic
oath
certain
undignified
ideas
which
besiege
the
soul
of
the
unhappy
.
"
I
loved
truth
.
.
.
.
Where
is
it
?
Hypocrisy
everywhere
or
at
any
rate
charlatanism
.
Even
in
the
most
virtuous
,
even
in
the
greatest
,
"
and
his
lips
assumed
an
expression
of
disgust
.
"
No
,
man
cannot
trust
man
.
"
"
Madame
de
—
—
when
she
was
making
a
collection
for
her
poor
orphans
,
used
to
tell
me
that
such
and
such
a
prince
had
just
given
ten
louis
,
a
sheer
lie
.
But
what
am
I
talking
about
.
Napoleon
at
St
.
Helena
.
.
.
Pure
charlatanism
like
the
proclamation
in
favour
of
the
king
of
Rome
.
"
Great
God
!
If
a
man
like
that
at
a
time
when
misfortune
ought
to
summon
him
sternly
to
his
duty
will
sink
to
charlatanism
,
what
is
one
to
expect
from
the
rest
of
the
human
species
?
"
"
Where
is
truth
?
In
religion
.
Yes
,
"
he
added
,
with
a
bitter
smile
of
utter
contempt
.
"
In
the
mouth
of
the
Maslons
,
the
Frilairs
,
the
Castanèdes
—
perhaps
in
that
true
Christianity
whose
priests
were
not
paid
any
more
than
were
the
apostles
.
But
St
.
Paul
was
paid
by
the
pleasure
of
commanding
,
speaking
,
getting
himself
talked
about
.
"
"
Oh
,
if
there
were
only
a
true
religion
.
Fool
that
I
am
.
I
see
a
Gothic
cathedral
and
venerable
stained
-
glass
windows
,
and
my
weak
heart
conjures
up
the
priest
to
fit
the
scene
.
My
soul
would
understand
him
,
my
soul
has
need
of
him
.
I
only
find
a
nincompoop
with
dirty
hair
.
About
as
comforting
as
a
chevalier
de
Beauvoisis
.
"
But
a
true
priest
,
a
Massillon
,
a
Fénelon
.
Massillon
sacrificed
Dubois
.
Saint
-
Simon
’
s
memoirs
have
spoilt
the
illusion
of
Fénelon
,
but
he
was
a
true
priest
anyway
.
In
those
days
,
tender
souls
could
have
a
place
in
the
world
where
they
could
meet
together
.
We
should
not
then
have
been
isolated
.
That
good
priest
would
have
talked
to
us
of
God
.
But
what
God
?
Not
the
one
of
the
Bible
,
a
cruel
petty
despot
,
full
of
vindictiveness
,
but
the
God
of
Voltaire
,
just
,
good
,
infinite
.
"
He
was
troubled
by
all
the
memories
of
that
Bible
which
he
knew
by
heart
.
"
But
how
on
earth
,
when
the
deity
is
three
people
all
at
the
same
time
,
is
one
to
believe
in
the
great
name
of
GOD
,
after
the
frightful
way
in
which
our
priests
have
abused
it
.
"
