Justine

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8"Oh Monsieur," I replied, "I have no experience of the thing;but I have heard it said that this perversion you recommendoutrages women in a yet more sensitive manner.... It moregrievously offends Nature. The hand of Heaven takes its vengeanceupon it in this world, Sodom provides the example." "Whatinnocence, my dear, what childishness," the libertine retorted;"who ever told you such a thing? Yet a little more attention,Therese, let me proceed to rectify your ideas. "The wasting of theseed destined to perpetuate the human species, dear girl, is theonly crime which can exist Ä such is the hypothesis; accordingto it, this seed is put in us for the sole purpose of reproduction,and if that were true I would grant you that diverting it is anoffense. But once it is demonstrated that her situating this semenin our loins is by no means enough to warrant supposing thatNature's purpose is to have all of it employed for reproduction,what then does it matter, Therese, whether it be spilled in oneplace or in another? Does the man who diverts it perform a greaterevil than Nature who does not employ all of it?

Now, do not those natural losses, which we can imitate if weplease, occur in an abundance of instances? Our very ability toprovoke them, firstly, is an initial proof that they do not offendNature in the slightest. It would be contrary to all the equity andprofound wisdom we everywhere recognize in her laws for them topermit what might affront her; secondly, those losses occur ahundred hundred million times every day, and she instigates themherself; nocturnal pollutions, the inutility of semen during theperiods of woman's pregnancy, are they not authorized by her laws,enjoined by them, and do they not prove that, very little concernedfor what may result from this liquid to which we so foolishlyattach a disproportionate value, she permits us its waste with thesame indifference she herself causes it every day to be wasted; shetolerates reproduction, yes, but much is wanting to provereproduction is one of her intentions; she lets us go ahead withour reproducing to be sure, but it being no more to her advantagethan our abstaining therefrom, the choice we happen to make is asone to her.

Is it not clear that leaving us the power to create, not tocreate, or to destroy, we will not delight her at all or disappointher any more by adopting toward the one or the other the attitudewhich suits us best; and what could be more self-evident than thatthe course we choose, being but the result of her power over us andthe influence upon us of her actions, will far more surely pleasethan it will risk offending her. Ah, Therese ! believe me, Naturefrets very little over those mysteries we are great enough fools toturn into worship of her.

Whatever be the temple at which one sacrifices, immediately sheallows incense to be burned there, one can be sure the homageoffends her in no wise; refusals to produce, waste of the semenemployed in production, the obliteration of that seed when it hasgerminated, the annihilation of that germ even long after itsformation, all those, Therese, are imaginary crimes which are of nointerest to Nature and at which she scoffs as she does at all therest of our institutions which offend more often than they serveher." Coeur-de-fer waxed warm while expounding his perfidiousmaxims, and I soon beheld him again in the state which had soterrified me the night before; in order to give his lessonadditional impact, he wished instantly to join practice to precept;and, my resistances notwithstanding, his hands strayed toward thealtar into which the traitor wanted to penetrate....

Must I declare, Madame, that, blinded by the wicked man'sseductions; content, by yielding a little, to save what seemed themore essential; reflecting neither upon his casuistries'illogicalities nor upon what I was myself about to risk since thedishonest fellow, possessing gigantic proportions, had not even thepossibility to see a woman in the most permissible place and since,urged on by his native perversity, he most assuredly had no objectbut to m**m me; my eyes as I say, perfectly blind to all that, Iwas going to abandon myself and become criminal through virtue; myopposition was weakening; already master of the throne, theinsolent conqueror concentrated all his energies in order toestablish himself upon it; and then there was heard the sound of acarriage moving along the highway. Upon the instant, Coeur-de-ferforsakes his pleasures for his duties; he assembles his followersand flies to new crimes. Not long afterward, we hear cries, andthose bandits, all bloodied over, return triumphant and laden withspoils. "Let's decamp smartly," says Coeur-de-fer, "we've killedthree men, the corpses are on the road, we're safe no longer."

The booty is divided, Coeur-de-fer wants me to have my share; itcomes to twenty louis, which I am compelled to accept. I tremble atthe obligation to take such money; however, we are in a hurry,everyone snatches up his belongings and off we go. The next day wefind ourselves out of danger and in the forest of Chantilly; duringsupper, the men reckon what their latest operation has been worthto them, and evaluate the total capture at no more than two hundredlouis. "Indeed," says one of them, "it wasn't worth the trouble tocommit three murders for such a little sum."

"Softly, my friends," Dubois answers, "it was not for the sakeof their purses I exhorted you not to spare those travelers, it wassolely in the interests of our security; the law's to be blamed forthese crimes, the fault's not ours; so long as thieves are hangedlike murderers, thefts shall never be committed withoutassassinations. The two misdeeds are punished equally; why thenabstain from the second when it may cover up the first? What makesyou suppose, furthermore," the horrid creature continued, "that twohundred louis are not worth three killings ? One must neverappraise values save in terms of our own interests. The cessationof the victims' existences is as nothing compared to thecontinuation of ours, not a mite does it matter to us whether anyindividual is alive or in the grave; consequently, if one of thetwo cases involves what in the smallest way affects our welfare, wemust, with perfect unremorse, determine the thing in our own favor;for in a completely indifferent matter we should, if we have anywits and are master of the situation, undoubtedly act so as to turnit to the profitable side, entirely neglecting whatever may befallour adversary; for there is no rational commensuration between whataffects us and what affects others; the first we sense physically,the other only touches us morally, and moral feelings are made todeceive; none but physical sensations are authentic; thus, not onlydo two hundred louis suffice for three murders, but even thirtycentimes would have sufficed, for those thirty centimes would haveprocured a satisfaction which, although light, must necessarilyaffect us to a much more lively degree than would three menmurdered, who are nothing to us, and by the wrongs done whom we arenot in the least touched, no, not even scratched; our organicfeebleness, careless thinking, the accursed prejudices in which wewere brought up, the vain terrors of religion and law, those arewhat hamper idiots and confound their criminal careers, those arewhat prevent them from arriving at greatness; but every strong andhealthy individual, endowed with an energetically organized mind,who preferring himself to others, as he must, will know how toweigh their interests in the balance against his own, will laughGod and mankind to the devil, will brave death and mock at the law,fully aware that it is to himself he must be faithful, that byhimself all must be measured, will sense that the vastest multitudeof wrongs inflicted upon others cannot offset the least enjoymentlost to himself or be as important as his slightest pleasurepurchased by an unheard-of host of villainies.

Joy pleases him, it is in him, it is his own, crime's effecttouches him not, is exterior to him; well, I ask, what thinking manwill not prefer what causes his delectation to what is alien tohim? who will not consent to commit this deed whereof~ heexperiences nothing unpleasant, in order to procure what moves himmost agreeably?" "Oh Madame," I said to Dubois, asking her leave toreply to her execrable sophistries, "do you not at all feel thatyour damnation is writ in what you have just uttered? At the verymost, such principles could only befit the person powerful enoughto have nothing to dread from others; but we, Madame, perpetuallyin fear and humiliated; we, proscribed by all honest folk,condemned by every law, should we be the exponents of doctrineswhich can only whet the sword blade suspended above our heads?

Would we find ourselves in this unhappy position were we in thecenter of society; were we to be where, that is to say, we ought tobe, without our misconduct and delivered from our miseries, do youfancy such maxims could be any more fitting to us? How would youhave him not perish who through blind egoism wishes all alone tostrive against the combined interests of others? Is not societyright never to suffer in its midst the man who declares himselfhostile to it? And can the isolated individual fight againsteveryone? Can he flatter himself he is happy and tranquil if,refusing to submit to the social contract, he does not consent togive up a little of his happiness to insure the rest? Society ismaintained only by the ceaseless interexchange of considerationsand good works, those are the bonds which cement the edifices; sucha one who instead of positive acts offers naught but crimes, havingtherefore to be dreaded, will necessarily be attacked if he is thestrongest, laid low by the first he offends if he is the weakest;but destroyed at any rate, for there is in man a powerful instinctwhich compels him to safeguard his peace and quiet and to strikewhosoever seeks to trouble them; that is why the long endurance ofcriminal associations is virtually impossible: their well-beingsuddenly confronted by cold steel, all the others must promptlyunite to blunt the threatening point.

Even amongst ourselves, Madame, I dare add; how can you lullyourself into believing you can maintain concord amongst ourselveswhen you counsel each to heed nothing but his own self-interest?Would you have any just complaints to make against the one of uswho wanted to cut the throats of the others, who did so in order tomonopolize for himself what has been shared by his colleagues? Why,'tis a splendid panegyric to Virtue, to prove its necessity in evena criminal society... to prove for a certainty that this societywould disintegrate in a trice were it not sustained by Virtue!"

"Your objections, Therese," said Coeur-de-fer, "not the thesesDubois has been expounding, are sophistries; our criminalfraternities are not by any means sustained by Virtue; rather byself-interest, egoism, selfishness; this eulogy of Virtue, whichyou have fabricated out of a false hypothesis, miscarries; it isnot at all owing to virtuousness that, believing myself, let ussuppose, the strongest of the band, I do not use a dagger on mycomrades in order to appropriate their shares, it is because,thereupon finding myself all alone, I would deprive myself of themeans which assure me the fortune I expect to have with their help;similarly, this is the single motive which restrains them fromlifting their arms against me. Now this motive, as you, Therese,perfectly well observe, is purely selfish, and has not even theleast appearance of virtue; he who wishes to struggle alone againstsociety's interests must, you say, expect to perish; will he notmuch more certainly perish if, to enable him to exist therein, hehas nothing but his misery and is abandoned by others ?

What one terms the interest of society is simply the mass ofindividual interests unified, but it is never otherwise than byceding that this private interest can accommodate and blend withthe general interest; well, what would you have him cede who hasnothing he can relinquish? And he who had much? Agree that heshould see his error grow apace with the discovery that he wasgiving infinitely more than he was getting in return; and, suchbeing the case, agree that the unfairness of the bargain shouldprevent him from concluding it. Trapped in this dilemma, the bestthing remaining for this man, don't you agree, is to quit thisunjust society, to go elsewhere, and to accord prerogatives to adifferent society of men who, placed in a situation comparable tohis, have their interest in combating, through the coordination oftheir lesser powers, the broader authority that wished to extractfrom the poor man what little he possessed in exchange for nothingat all. But you will say, thence will be born a state of perpetualwarfare. Excellent! is that not the perpetual state of Nature? Isit not the only state to which we are really adapted ? All men areborn isolated, envious, cruel and despotic; wishing to haveeverything and surrender nothing, incessantly struggling tomaintain either their rights or achieve their ambition, thelegislator comes up and says to them:

Cease thus to fight; if each were to retreat a little, calmwould be restored. I find no fault with the position implicit inthe agreement, but I maintain that two species of individualscannot and ought not submit to it, ever; those who feel they arethe stronger have no need to give up anything in order to be happy,and those who find themselves the weaker also find themselvesgiving up infinitely more than what is assured them. However,society is only composed of weak persons and strong; well, if thepact must perforce displease both weak and strong, there is greatcause to suppose it will fail to suit society, and the previouslyexisting state of warfare must appear infinitely preferable, sinceit permitted everyone the free exercise of his strength and hisindustry, whereof he would discover himself deprived by a society'sunjust pact which takes too much from the one and never accordsenough to the other; hence, the truly intelligent person is he who,indifferent to the risk of renewing the state of war that reignedprior to the contract, lashes out in irrevocable violation of thatcontract, violates it as much and often as he is able, full certainthat what he will gain from these ruptures will always be moreimportant than what he will lose if he happens to be a member ofthe weaker class; for such he was when he respected the treaty; bybreaking it he may become one of the stronger; and if the lawsreturn him to the class whence he wished to emerge, the worst thatcan befall him is the loss of his life, which is a misfortuneinfinitely less great than that of existing in opprobrium andwretchedness.

There are then two positions available to us: either crime,which renders us happy, or the noose, which prevents us from beingunhappy. I ask whether there can be any hesitation, lovely Therese,and where will your little mind find an argument able to combatthat one ?"