“Remember that the case going as far as the court of appeal has been investigated and studied with care, that it has emerged from the first ordeal filtered, purified and distilled, having become transparent. Remember, too, that the judges of the second degree are more numerous than those of the first.”
“Permit me, my dear fellow...on the one hand, I say loudly that the same study and the same care presides over the first judgment. On the other hand, if the second tribunal presents, by virtue of its composition, more guarantees than the first, why not go to it directly? On that count, it would almost be to admit that those vanquished in the first battle would be naïve if they did abstained from throwing down a second gauntlet.
“In the new system, the three degrees of instance are on the same level. Error being the eternal rock on which the human mind runs aground, it requires two similar decisions on two different levels to cement an immutable verdict; if they are produced successively, all is said. Alternatively, if each of the adversaries has one decision his favor, it is the scrutiny of the third degree that decides. Of course, no one is obliged to exhaust that triple jurisdiction.
“Adjustment never surrenders. It lies in wait for the adversaries even in the bosom of the litigious courtrooms. At every step one takes, one has to take it into account. Thus, one cannot pass from one jurisdiction to the other without presenting oneself again and in person in its study, whether victor or vanquished.”
“Tell me, then: such a system, if I’m not mistaken, places the advocates in a permanent state of conflict, between their wishes and the will of the legislator.”
“Not at all. Everything has been anticipated, and everyone finds satisfaction in the adjustment. The advocates are better paid for a peace treaty than winning a battle. Apart from that, when the tribunals shut their doors, honorific recompenses are accorded to the magistrates of all ranks, including advocates and solicitors, who achieve the greatest number of reconciliations in a year.
“Let us hasten to say, because it’s an essential point, that the addition of a third jurisdiction has not inflated costs, by virtue of the economy and simplification of procedure. There again, the advocates lose nothing; their honoraria no longer have, as a counterweight in the balance, the volume of the dossier, but the significance of the affair and the results obtained.
XIII. Moral Progress Continued
“You’ve seen adjustment sitting, under the judge’s toga, in our civil tribunals; I’m going to show you, standing between society and the guilty party, other adversaries, holding one hand out to one and one to the other, obtaining, for their reconciliation, indulgence and pardon.
“When a poor fellow falls, by virtue of a first stumble, into the hands of the law, whether it is a matter if a misdemeanor or something more serious, he appears before the tribunal of pardon. The case is heard behind closed doors. If the guilty party confesses, if the damage he has done to another party is repaired, if the judges, having become family counselors, recognize in his tears and in the intervention and solidarity of relatives and friends sufficient guarantees for the future, he can be absolved. Furthermore, the tribunal of pardon only answers to itself; its prudence and its soul are its code. Everything that happens there remains buried there.
“What about society?”
“Well, what about it? Do you believe, in conscience, that a young man, a child, confused by his first false step, weeping before his family, before the judge, who opens his arms to him, is a very redoubtable enemy? Locking him up, as was done before, was done in order to correct him, it was said. Leave him there for three years, three months, or three days, if you wish; then wait for him on the threshold and see whether he has been corrected. Instead of a fever of childhood, light and ephemeral, you will see him come back among us impregnated with the moral plague that reigns permanently in prisons, like typhus on the edges of a marsh. I need only take for a witness the nickname given to prison by its regular guests: college. Tell me, the college of what? Of French? Of morality? Of religion? No. Of argot, of theft, of murder—yes. He goes in trembling, his expression humiliated; he comes out with a firm tread, holding his head high.
“By contrast, pardon is expiation by speech, without jail, and hence without contagion. The sin is forgotten by all, except the one granted mercy. He has sworn to become better, and he does. Instead of the furtive eye of a policeman, his family watches over him, honest protection at which he does not blush.
“Go interrogate the Prefect of Police; he will tell you that his disarmed justice does more than the brigades for the security of Paris.
“And besides, Christianity, the religion of our land, recommends the forgetfulness of injury and pardon. ‘Let him who is pure cast the first stone.’ That precept has remained a prisoner in the holy book for a long time. It was the prerogative of the State to bring it out, to spread it by example. The kindly face of Christ radiates in the law court, above the head of the judge.”
“If he is really there, he must be pleased!”
“No oath is demanded from one who is granted mercy. Well, one sees those poor, bewildered, sobbing creatures raise their hands toward God, who looks them in the face, and take him as their witness for the promise they make.
“That isn’t all; after the pardon, the indulgence.
“When the time for punishment arrives, for misdemeanors or crimes, a new scale of penalties is applied, elongated at the bottom by several rungs. One begins with a reprimand; it is pronounced in open court, with the doors open, but without any other publicity. Afterwards, and by gradations, come corporal and pecuniary punishments, as before, but in more clement measures.”
“I doubt that a reprimand ever serves as Medusa’s head for a bandit.”
“There are no bandits among those who trip up. One is not born a bandit, as one might come into the world missing and arm or crippled. In sum, what is society doing? It is calling to its aid the conscience of its enemy, his good instincts, his dignity, for there is all that is yesterday’s guilty party. Yes, I contend, a reprimand is a punishment for a man who still feels, just as a crown of laurels was once a triumph. I will go further, and say that one punishes with two whips: rehabilitation and lashes; but one only corrects by means of the first; with the second, one extracts vengeance. A tip of the hat addressed, in the right time and place, to someone who does not merit it, does more to moralize than scorn or anger.
“Let’s get back to punishments; they are scales with just measure; the only difference is that the point of departure is situated lower down. Three months and six months of simple captivity are, in my eyes, equal to three years and six years of convict labor. Hard labor for life, or relapse, is a ring stuffed with poison for Mithridates. The conscience of the one, like the stomach of the other, has been hardened, that’s all. And then, human life is so short, so full of punishments of every sort—as witness poverty.”
“In truth, my dear, I’m saturated with philosophy and progress. Five o’clock! And I’ve been admiring since five in the morning! An entire circuit of the clock-face in the contemplation of marvels, in truth, is too much.”
“One more step. I’ve reserved, for the final scene, the sight of the most beautiful place on earth, and the most blessed creation of heaven. It’s at the top of the Champs-Élysées. Come on, follow me; this will be our final stage.”
I resume marching, relaxed and mobile, as if borne up by such beautiful words.
On the threshold of the Palais de Justice, my companion, pointing a finger at the Tribunal of Commerce, tells me that after thirty years of irreproachable work, in the shop, the factory or the fallow field, after investigation, scrutiny, the homologation of the consular tribunal, etc., one can be elevated to the rank of honorary merchant, industrialist or agriculturalist; that the dignity in question is conferred by a decree of the Head of State, on the recommendation of the corporation to which the candidate belongs; and that a decoration denounced to everyone the respects of those men nobly aged by labor.
&nb
sp; On the way, in the Place de la Madeleine, he shows me the edifice that has replaced the old Bibliothéque de l’Arsenal, exiled to the Sully quarter, where it no longer has any guests but its books. He tells me that all the libraries in Paris receive workers between nine and five o’clock, and after dinner, between seven and nine o’clock; that the catalogues of each of them, printed and published, ordered by subject and alphabetical order, are put at the disposal of the public; that in addition, erudite men are permanently stationed there, in shifts, forming a second repertoire, but a repertoire that thinks and reasons, easier to interrogate.
Not far from there he points out to me, in passing, the new auction house—an establishment regenerated and reconstituted on an entirely new basis, he tells me, very useful to the opulent classes and more useful still to honest households of artisans.
Finally, we reach the foot of the Place d’Étoile; it is the land of Canaan, praise God!
XIV. Moral Progress Concluded
“Confess that this plateau has not stolen the name of Place de l’Étoile.”
Twelve avenues, broad and rectilinear, converge at the center like twelve luminous spokes escaping from a planet; between those spokes, majestic town houses; in the middle, at the place of the star, the superhuman monument that the entire world has come to salute.
“My friend, you’ve wasted your rhetoric. I’ve seen all this before my departure from Paris.”
“No, you’re mistaken. The Arc de Triomphe was not yet surmounted by that colossal golden ball, the image of the terrestrial globe, on which one sees engraved our legions and our cannons, and our fleets navigating in Europe, Africa and Asia. Those circular houses, of a very different aspect, sober and sinewy, as heavy as anything great, only existed then in a sketchy state; nor are you familiar with those four groups.
“Learn that Parisians have paid homage to Napoléons in two city squares: in the Place de l’Étoile to Napoléon I, in the Place du Trône to Napoléon III. Out there, as here, a military monument testifies to the prodigies of valor accomplished under the two reigns. Here and out there, four bronze groups, each of several individuals, give life, by means of ingenious and touching allegories, to the principal civil and charitable institutions that recommend both emperors to the love of the nation. They are:
“In the Place du Trône:
“The Credit Bank of France;
“The extension of the limits of Paris and the Transformation of the capital;
“The Societies of Mutual Aid and the Treasury for Retreats in old age;
“The principal charitable establishments created for the relief of the masses, such as the Shelter of Vincennes, the Society of Mothers, the Prince Imperial’s Orphanage and the Society for the Abolition of Child Labor.
“In this square:
“The Civil Code and the Université de France;
“The Concordat signed between the First Consul and Pope Pius VII, the signal for the reopening of the churches;
“The Imperial Order of the Légion d’Honneur;
“The Bank of France.
“Each pedestal bears a caption with the date of the foundation. The block representing Paris mentions the great works accomplished under Napoléon III.”
“These additions are beautiful, I agree, and completely worthy of the location, which has no equal anywhere, but it’s seven o’clock, and, without reproach, I’m collapsing with fatigue and hunger.”
“That isn’t the only reason I’ve dragged you here. Look in this direction, listen to me for five minutes, and then tell me whether you still regret our forced stage, and waiting for our dinner.”
And he pointed a finger at one of the circular buildings. The setting sun illuminated the fronton of the edifice. There I read the following words, inscribed in golden letters on a white marble backcloth, and framed by a fiery aureole:
Parliament of Peace
“It’s here,” he told me, “that the great assizes of Europe are held, composed of the great nations. Each one sends two or three delegates; all of them defend the rights of their country, but only one of them cast a ballot. To the ball deposited in the urn by each people a number is attached a number of votes equivalent to its relative importance in the European league.
“The court pronounces as an arbiter as often as possible, and if not, as a supreme court, on the following questions:
“The Nationalities of peoples;
“Differences between a nation and its sovereign;
“Reparations for international insults, violations of treaties, territorial borders, usurpations; and, in sum, any difficulties emerging between brother peoples;
“Excessive extensions of dominations or influences susceptible of threatening the balance of European power;
“Defense, either of all Europe against anyone, or of one of its people against the aggression of a foreign nation within the league;
“Finally, the treatment of black people, piracy, tyranny, and all questions of elevated humanity and general interest.
“For the sake of greater clarity, it is a family league, appeasing by conciliation or cutting short by means of the sword when necessary, any quarrel:
“Between a people and its sovereign;
“Between two peoples.
“Between the league and outsiders.
“A vote once passed—but only after deliberations, offers of arbitration and indefatigable efforts of adjustment—is an immutable oracle. Its execution becomes the act of an executive power resident on the head of one of the sovereigns elected by the league. The common forces at his disposal form the total of contingents furnished by each people, in proportion to its size.
“Thus far, let us say hastily, the solutions have been peaceful; the executive power has not taken up arms.
“It is the Head of State who nominates our three representatives. He has the right to recall them. They are replaced or reappointed every three years.
“That is not all. In addition to its great debates, the parliament has scheduled for discussion an ensemble of questions that, at first glance, seem to have nothing to do with peace. They do not, it is true, have the pretention of constraining peoples to lay down their arms, but, believe me, they will work usefully to that result, by establishing between them gently, without their being aware of it, habits of commerce and amity. These are the principal ones:
“The adoption of a common language, a language that will be taught in the public schools of all States, but only, of course, after the study of the national language;
“A uniform system of postal tariffs;
“Identical regulations and prices for the great European railways, for passengers as well as merchandise;
“General reciprocity in the regime of passports and protective measures for foreigners;
“A single money everywhere; identity of values, titles and modules; one of the faces European, the other national;
“The same system of weights and measures.”
“All that is truly great, to the point of the sublime, almost the divine.”
“That right. Also, I believe that, without an inspiration from on high, it would not be given to anyone, I don’t say to take a great enterprise to its conclusion, but to attempt it. Furthermore, Providence had silently prepared everything:
“The massacre between the two Americas, the disorder in world commerce, the distress in the bosom of the working masses;
“Engines of destruction refined to the point that war has become truly impossible;
“The new world rearing up, ready, once its family affairs are regulated, to hurl itself upon the old.
As you can see, the terrain was good, and the idea, having fallen, could not refuse to germinate.
“As for the fruits, they have surpassed all expectation.
“Mass disarmament, by order of the Parliament of Peace, had pushed Europe into unexplored paths. To speak only of France, her position is such, at present, that she has been able to devote herself, with full hands, to agri
culture, the arts, commerce, industry and the ever-gaping needs of multitudes. I say devote herself, but as one devotes the month of November, sack in hand, to newly plowed furrows. It is at such a point, I tell you, that already, in the great book of public debt, one things after another is being crossed off; there are some who say that our century will see the volume close of its own accord, having become unnecessary.”
“What! No more public debt!”
“Perhaps…one day...
“But an even more interesting consequence, if that is possible, of the new state of things, is that peoples have been able to come into such close accord, by themselves, on conditions of labor and competition between nations. They have been able to establish an understanding, no longer here and there but everywhere: an understanding equitable and protective for the consumer, the manufacturer and the worker, making law for all. That question, you know, is life or death for the masses and...”
XV. Anticipated Denouement
“Well, indefatigable sleeper, have you quite finished snoring? You quit my company in Lyon, when the train pulled away, and here we are in Paris.”
“What! Are we pulling into the new station?”
“What new station?”
“You know very well, outside the walls of Paris, at the gate.”
“No, we’re at the Gare de Lyon, in Paris, on the Boulevard Mazas. Come on, you’re still asleep. Wake up!”
“Oh, my friend, what a beautiful dream I’ve had!”
“I congratulate you for it. After all, you haven’t wasted your time, since you’ve consecrated it to repose.”
The Aerial Valley Page 22
