Là-bas

by J.-K. Huysmans

  CHAPTER XIV

  From this scene he had learned an alarming lesson: that the fleshdomineers the soul and refuses to admit any schism. The flesh decisivelydoes not intend that one shall get along without it and indulge inout-of-the-world pleasures which it can partake only on condition thatit keep quiet. For the first time, reviewing these turpitudes, he reallyunderstood the meaning of that now obsolete word _chastity_, and hesavoured it in all its pristine freshness. Just as a man who has drunktoo deeply the night before thinks, the morning after, of drinkingnothing but mineral water in future, so he dreamed, today, of pureaffection far from a bed.

  He was still ruminating these thoughts when Des Hermies entered.

  They spoke of amorous misadventures. Astonished at once by Durtal'slanguor and the ascetic tone of his remarks, Des Hermies exclaimed, "Ah,we had a gay old time last night?"

  With the most decisive bad grace Durtal shook his head.

  "Then," replied Des Hermies, "you are superior and inhuman. To lovewithout hope, immaculately, would be perfect if it did not induct suchbrainstorms. There is no excuse for chastity, unless one has a pious endin view, or unless the senses are failing, and if they are one had bestsee a doctor, who will solve the question more or less unsatisfactorily.To tell the truth, everything on earth culminates in the act youreprove. The heart, which is supposed to be the noble part of man, hasthe same form as the penis, which is the so-called ignoble part of man.There's symbolism in that similarity, because every love which is ofthe heart soon extends to the organ resembling it. The humanimagination, the moment it tries to create artificially animated beings,involuntarily reproduces in them the movements of animals propagating.Look at the machines, the action of the piston and the cylinder; Romeosof steel and Juliets of cast iron. Nor do the loftier expressions of thehuman intellect get away from the advance and withdrawal copied by themachines. One must bow to nature's law if one is neither impotent nor asaint. Now you are neither the one nor the other, I think, but if, frominconceivable motives, you desire to live in temporary continence,follow the prescription of an occultist of the sixteenth century, theNeapolitan Piperno. He affirms that whoever eats vervain cannot approacha woman for seven days. Buy a jar, and let's try it."

  Durtal laughed. "There is perhaps a middle course: never consummate thecarnal act with her you love, and, to keep yourself quiet, frequentthose you do not love. Thus, in a certain measure, you would conjureaway possible disgust."

  "No, one would never get it out of one's head that with the woman ofwhom one was enamoured one would experience carnal delights absolutelydifferent from those which one feels with the others, so your methodalso would end badly. And too, the women who would not be indifferent toone, have not charity and discretion enough to admire the wisdom of thisselfishness, for of course that's what it is. But what say, now, toputting on your shoes? It's almost six o'clock and Mama Carhaix's beefcan't wait."

  It had already been taken out of the pot and couched on a platter amidvegetables when they arrived. Carhaix, sprawling in an armchair, wasreading his breviary.

  "What's going on in the world?" he asked, closing his book.

  "Nothing. Politics doesn't interest us, and General Boulanger'sAmerican tricks of publicity weary you as much as they do us, I suppose.The other newspaper stories are just a little more shocking or dull thanusual.--Look out, you'll burn your mouth," as Durtal was preparing totake a spoonful of soup.

  "In fact," said Durtal, grimacing, "this marrowy soup, so artisticallygolden, is like liquid fire. But speaking of the news, what do you meanby saying there is nothing of pressing importance? And the trial of thatastonishing abbe Boudes going on before the Assizes of Aveyron! Aftertrying to poison his curate through the sacramental wine, and committingsuch other crimes as abortion, rape, flagrant misconduct, forgery,qualified theft and usury, he ended by appropriating the money put inthe coin boxes for the souls in purgatory, and pawning the ciborium,chalice, all the holy vessels. That case is worth following."

  Carhaix raised his eyes to heaven.

  "If he is not sent to jail, there will be one more priest for Paris,"said Des Hermies.

  "How's that?"

  "Why, all the ecclesiastics who get in bad in the provinces, or who havea serious falling out with the bishop, are sent here where they will beless in view, lost in the crowd, as it were. They form a part of thatcorporation known as 'scratch priests.'"

  "What are they?"

  "Priests loosely attached to a parish. You know that in addition to acurate, ministrants, vicars, and regular clergy, there are in everychurch adjunct priests, supply priests. Those are the ones I am talkingabout. They do the heavy work, celebrate the morning masses wheneverybody is asleep and the late masses when everybody is doing. It isthey who get up at night to take the sacrament to the poor, and who situp with the corpses of the devout rich and catch cold standing under thedripping church porches at funerals, and get sunstroke or pneumonia inthe cemetery. They do all the dirty work. For a five or ten franc feethey act as substitutes for colleagues who have good livings and aretired of service. They are men under a cloud for the most part. Churchestake them on, ready to fire them at a moment's notice, and keep strictwatch over them while waiting for them to be interdicted or to havetheir _celebret_ taken away. I simply mean that the provincial parishesexcavate on the city the priests who for one reason or another haveceased to please."

  "But what do the curates and other titulary abbes _do_, if they unloadtheir duties onto the backs of others?"

  "They do the elegant, easy work, which requires no effort, no charity.They shrive society women who come to confession in their most stunninggowns; they teach proper little prigs the catechism, and preach, andplay the limelight roles in the gala ceremonials which are got up topander to the tastes of the faithful. At Paris, not counting the scratchpriests, the clergy is divided thus: Man-of-the-world priests in easycircumstances: these are placed at la Madeleine and Saint Roch where thecongregations are wealthy. They are wined and dined, they pass theirlives in drawing-rooms, and comfort only elegant souls. Other priestswho are good desk clerks, for the most part, but who have neither theeducation nor the fortune necessary to participate in theinconsequentialities of the idle rich. They live more in seclusion andvisit only among the middle class. They console themselves for theirunfashionableness by playing cards with each other and uttering crudecommonplaces at the table."

  "Now, Des Hermies," said Carhaix, "you are going too far. I claim toknow the clerical world myself, and there are, even in Paris, honest menwho do their duty. They are covered with opprobrium and spat on. EveryTom, Dick, and Harry accuses them of the foulest vices. But after all,it must be said that the abbe Boudes and the Canon Docres areexceptions, thank God! and outside of Paris there are veritable saints,especially among the country clergy."

  "It's a fact that Satanic priests are relatively rare, and thelecheries of the clergy and the knaveries of the episcopate areevidently exaggerated by an ignoble press. But that isn't what I haveagainst them. If only they were gamblers and libertines! But they'relukewarm, mediocre, lazy, imbeciles. That is their sin against the HolyGhost, the only sin which the All Merciful does not pardon."

  "They are of their time," said Durtal. "You wouldn't expect to find thesoul of the Middle Ages inculcated by the milk-and-water seminaries."

  "Then," Carhaix observed, "our friend forgets that there are impeccablemonastic orders, the Carthusians, for instance."

  "Yes, and the Trappists and the Franciscans. But they are cloisteredorders which live in shelter from an infamous century. Take, on theother hand, the order of Saint Dominic, which exists for the fashionableworld. That is the order which produces jewelled dudes like Monsabre andDidon. Enough said."

  "They are the hussars of religion, the jaunty lancers, the spick andspan and primped-up Zouaves, while the good Capuchins are the humblepoilus of the soul," said Durtal.

  "If only they loved bells," sighed Carhaix, shaking his head. "Well,pass the Coulommiers,"
he said to his wife, who was taking up the saladbowl and the plates.

  In silence they ate this Brie-type cheese. Des Hermies filled theglasses.

  "Tell me," Durtal asked Des Hermies, "do you know whether a woman whoreceives visits from the incubi necessarily has a cold body? In otherwords, is a cold body a presumable symptom of incubacy, as of old theinability to shed tears served the Inquisition as proof positive toconvict witches?"

  "Yes, I can answer you. Formerly women smitten with incubacy had frigidflesh even in the month of August. The books of the specialists bearwitness. But now the majority of the creatures who voluntarily orinvoluntarily summon or receive the amorous larvae have, on the contrary,a skin that is burning and dry to the touch. This transformation is notyet general, but tends to become so. I remember very well that Dr.Johannes, he of whom Gevingey told you, was often obliged, at the momentwhen he attempted to deliver the patient, to bring the body back tonormal temperature with lotions of dilute hydriodate of potassium."

  "Ah!" said Durtal, who was thinking of Mme. Chantelouve.

  "You don't know what has become of Dr. Johannes?" asked Carhaix.

  "He is living very much in retirement at Lyons. He continues, I believe,to cure venefices, and he preaches the blessed coming of the Paraclete."

  "For heaven's sake, who is this doctor?" asked Durtal.

  "He is a very intelligent and learned priest. He was superior of acommunity, and he directed, here in Paris, the only review which everwas really mystical. He was a theologian much consulted, a recognizedmaster of divine jurisprudence; then he had distressing quarrels withthe papal Curia at Rome and with the Cardinal-Archbishop of Paris. Hisexorcisms and his battles against the incubi, especially in the femaleconvents, ruined him.

  "Ah, I remember the last time I saw him, as if it were yesterday. I methim in the rue Grenelle coming out of the Archbishop's house, the day hequitted the Church, after a scene which he told me all about. Again Ican see that priest walking with me along the deserted boulevard desInvalides. He was pale, and his defeated but impressive voice trembled.He had been summoned and commanded to explain his actions in the case ofan epileptic woman whom he claimed to have cured with the aid of arelic, the seamless robe of Christ preserved at Argenteuil. TheCardinal, assisted by two grand vicars, listened to him, standing.

  "When he had likewise furnished the information which they demandedabout his cures of witch spells, Cardinal Guibert said, 'You had best goto La Trappe.'

  "And I remember word for word his reply, 'If I have violated the lawsof the Church, I am ready to undergo the penalty of my fault. If youthink me culpable, pass a canonical judgment and I will execute it, Iswear on my sacerdotal honour; but I wish a formal sentence, for, inlaw, nobody is bound to condemn himself: "_Nemo se tradere tenetur_,"says the Corpus Juris Canonici.'

  "There was a copy of his review on the table. The Cardinal pointed to apage and asked, 'Did you write that?'

  "'Yes, Eminence.'

  "'Infamous doctrines!' and he went from his office into the next room,crying, 'Out of my sight!'

  "Then Johannes advanced as far as the threshold of the other room, andfalling on his knees, he said, 'Eminence, I had no intention ofoffending. If I have done so, I beg forgiveness.'

  "The Cardinal cried more loudly, 'Out of my sight before I call forassistance!'

  "Johannes rose and left.

  "'All my old ties are broken,' he said, as he parted from me. He was sosad that I had not the heart to question him further."

  There was a silence. Carhaix went up to his tower to ring a peal. Hiswife removed the dessert dishes and the cloth. Des Hermies prepared thecoffee. Durtal, pensive, rolled his cigarette.

  Carhaix, when he returned, as if enveloped in a fog of sounds,exclaimed, "A while ago, Des Hermies, you were speaking of theFranciscans. Do you know that that order, to live up to its professionsof poverty, was supposed not to possess even a bell? True, this rule hasbeen relaxed somewhat. It was too severe! Now they have a bell, but onlyone."

  "Just like most other abbeys, then."

  "No, because all communities have at least three, in honour of the holyand triple Hypostasis."

  "Do you mean to say that the number of bells a monastery or church canhave is limited by rule?"

  "Formerly it was. There was a pious hierarchy of ringing: the bells of aconvent could not sound when the bells of a church pealed. They were thevassals, and, respectful and submissive as became their rank, they weresilent when the Suzerain spoke to the multitudes. These principles ofprocedure, consecrated, in 1590, by a canon of the Council of Toulouseand confirmed by two decrees of the Congress of Rites, are no longerfollowed. The rulings of San Carlo Borromeo, who decreed that a churchshould have from five to seven bells, a boy's academy three, and aparochial school two, are abolished. Today churches have more or fewerbells as they are more or less rich.... Oh, well, why worry? Where arethe little glasses?"

  His wife brought them, shook hands with the guests, and retired.

  Then while Carhaix was pouring the cognac, Des Hermies said in a lowvoice, "I did not want to speak before her, because these mattersdistress and frighten her, but I received a singular visit this morningfrom Gevingey, who is running over to Lyons to see Dr. Johannes. Heclaims to have been bewitched by Canon Docre, who, it seems, is making aflying visit to Paris. What have been their relations? I don't know.Anyway, Gevingey is in a deplorable state."

  "Just what seems to be the matter with him?" asked Durtal.

  "I positively do not know. I made a careful auscultation and examinedhim thoroughly. He complains of needles pricking him around the heart. Iobserved nervous trouble and nothing else. What I am most worried aboutis a state of enfeeblement inexplicable in a man who is neithercancerous nor diabetical."

  "Ah," said Carhaix, "I suppose people are not betwitched now with waximages and needles, with the 'Manei' or the 'Dagyde' as it was called inthe good old days."

  "No, those practises are now out of date and almost everywhere falleninto disuse. Gevingey who took me completely into his confidence thismorning, told me what extraordinary recipes the frightful canon uses.These are, it seems, the unrevealed secrets of modern magic."

  "Ah, that's what interests me," exclaimed Durtal.

  "Of course I limit myself to repeating what was told me," resumed DesHermies, lighting his cigarette. "Well, Docre keeps white mice in cages,and he takes them along when he travels. He feeds them on consecratedhosts and on pastes impregnated with poisons skilfully dosed. When theseunhappy beasts are saturated, he takes them, holds them over a chalice,and with a very sharp instrument he pricks them here and there. Theblood flows into the vase and he uses it, in a way which I shall explainin a moment, to strike his enemies with death. Formerly he operated onchickens and guinea pigs, but he used the grease, not the blood, ofthese animals, become thus execrated and venomous tabernacles.

  "Formerly he also used a recipe discovered by the Satanic society of theRe-Theurgistes-Optimates, of which I have spoken before, and he prepareda hash composed of flour, meat, Eucharist bread, mercury, animal semen,human blood, acetate of morphine and aspic oil.

  "Latterly, and according to Gevingey this abomination is more perilousyet, he stuffs fishes with communion bread and with toxins skilfullygraduated. These toxins are chosen from those which produce madness orlockjaw when absorbed through the pores. Then, when these fishes arethoroughly permeated with the substances sealed by sacrilege, Docretakes them out of the water, lets them rot, distills them, and expressesfrom them an essential oil one drop of which will produce madness. Thisdrop, it appears, is applied externally, by touching the hair, as inBalzac's _Thirteen_."

  "Hmmm," said Durtal, "I am afraid that a drop of this oil long ago fellon the scalp of poor old Gevingey."

  "What is interesting about this story is not the outlandishness of thesediabolical pharmacopoeia so much as the psychology of the persons whoinvent and manipulate them. Think. This is happening at the present day,and it is the priests wh
o have invented philtres unknown to thesorcerers of the Middle Ages."

  "The priests, no! A priest. And what a priest!" remarked Carhaix.

  "Gevingey is very precise. He affirms that others use them. Bewitchmentby veniniferous blood of mice took place in 1879 at Chalons-sur-Marne ina demoniac circle--to which the canon belonged, it is true. In 1883, inSavoy, the oil of which I have spoken was prepared in a group ofdefrocked abbes. As you see, Docre is not the only one who practisesthis abominable science. It is known in the convents; some laymen, even,have an inkling of it."

  "But now, admitting that these preparations are real and that they areactive, you have not explained how one can poison a man with them eitherfrom a distance or near at hand."

  "Yes, that's another matter. One has a choice of two methods to reachthe enemy one is aiming at. The first and least used is this: themagician employs a voyant, a woman who is known in that world as 'aflying spirit'; she is a somnambulist, who, put into a hypnotic state,can betake herself, in spirit, wherever one wishes her to go. It is thenpossible to have her transmit the magic poisons to a person whom onedesignates, hundreds of leagues away. Those who are stricken in thismanner have seen no one, and they go mad or die without suspecting thevenefice. But these voyants are not only rare, they are also unreliable,because other persons can likewise fix them in a cataleptic state andextract confessions from them. So you see why persons like Docre haverecourse to the second method, which is surer. It consists in evoking,just as in Spiritism, the soul of a dead person and sending it to strikethe victim with the prepared spell. The result is the same but thevehicle is different. There," concluded Des Hermies, "reported withpainstaking exactness, are the confidences which our friend Gevingeymade me this morning."

  "And Dr. Johannes cures people poisoned in this manner?" asked Carhaix.

  "Yes, Dr. Johannes--to my knowledge--has made inexplicable cures."

  "But with what?"

  "Gevingey tells me, in this connection, that the doctor celebrates asacrifice to the glory of Melchisedek. I haven't the faintest idea whatthis sacrifice is, but Gevingey will perhaps enlighten us if he returnscured."

  "In spite of all, I should not be displeased, once in my life to get agood look at Canon Docre," said Durtal.

  "Not I! He is the incarnation of the Accursed on earth!" cried Carhaix,assisting his friends to put on their overcoats.

  He lighted his lantern, and while they were descending the stair, asDurtal complained of the cold, Des Hermies burst into a laugh.

  "If your family had known the magical secrets of the plants, you wouldnot shiver this way," he said. "It was learned in the sixteenth centurythat a child might be immune to heat or cold all his life if his handswere rubbed with juice of absinth before the twelfth month of his lifehad passed. That, you see, is a tempting prescription, less dangerousthan those which Canon Docre abuses."

  Once below, after Carhaix had closed the door of his tower, theyhastened their steps, for the north wind swept the square.

  "After all," said Des Hermies, "Satanism aside--and yet Satanism also isa phase of religion--admit that, for two miscreants of our sort, we holdsingularly pious conversations. I hope they will be counted in ourfavour up above."

  "No merit on our part," replied Durtal, "for what else is there to talkabout? Conversations which do not treat of religion or art are so baseand vain."