Complete Works of Emile Zola (1620 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Emile Zola
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Luc had paused in his slow walk. Like Sœurette, he was listening with the deepest attention.

“But that is only what regards health — hygiene and sanitary laws, that we may live in health,” went on Jordan.” Work is more — it is life itself. Life is the perpetual work of chemical and mechanical forces. Never, since the first atom set itself in motion to unite with other atoms, has the great work of creation ceased; and this creation which is going on, which ever will go on, is the task of eternity, the universal work of the world, to which each of us must bring his stone. Is not the universe an immense workshop in which no man can be idle, in which the very least of us are doing our part in a mighty work, in which the machine goes on and turns out what it has made and is creating incessantly, whether it be simple fermentations or things that are of the utmost perfection? The fields ripe with harvest have been at work; forests are at work when the trees put forth their foliage; rivers that flow along the valleys are at work; oceans, as they roll their waves from one continent to another, work; and worlds, borne by the rhythm of their gravitation through infinite space, are at work. There is not one being, not one thing in all the universe, that can be idle. Everything is impelled to work, is put to work, and is forced to do its part in the work common to all. Whatever does not do its work at once disappears, and is rejected as useless and superfluous. It must give place to what will work — to some worker who is indispensable. That is the law of life, which is, in short, the law of all things. Work is a force in perpetual activity, a god in all religions, working out the final happiness of which we feel the imperious necessity.”

For a few moments Jordan seemed again absorbed in dreams. Then he went on:

“And how admirably can work regulate things; what order it creates wherever it reigns! It is peace and joy, as well as health. I am amazed when I see it despised, belittled, looked upon as a shame or as a punishment. If it has saved me from certain death, it has given me also all the good that there is in me; it has recreated my intelligence; it has given me nobleness. And what an admirable organizer it is! — how it regulates the workings of our minds, the play of our muscles, the special function of each group in a multitude of laborers! It is a political constitution, a police to look after humanity, a reason for maintaining social order. We are born to do the work of the world. Every one of us must help it on; we cannot explain the necessity for our lives except by perceiving that nature wanted one more laborer to carry on its work. Any other explanation is false and self-glorious. Our individual lives seem like a sacrifice to the universal life of future worlds. There is no such thing as happiness, unless we place it in the united happiness of perpetual united labor. And that is why I wish that some one would preach to the world the religion of labor, and sing hosannas to labor, as to a savior, the only true source of health, peace, and happiness.”

He ceased, and Sœurette gave a little cry of tender enthusiasm.

“Ah! brother, how true that is, how right you are — and it is all so beautiful!”

But Luc, who seemed still more impressed, remained standing, motionless, his eyes gleaming with light. Little by little, he seemed like an apostle under the influence of a ray of inspiration. Then suddenly he spoke:

“Listen to me, Jordan: You must not sell your works to Delaveau. You must keep them — keep them all — the blast-furnace and the mine. This is my answer. I give it to you now. I need think of it no longer. My resolution is made.”

Surprised by these words, so abrupt and unexpected — for their connection with the words he had just uttered Jordan did not at first see — the master of La Crêcherie winked his eyes.

“How is this? My dear Luc, why do you tell me this?

... Explain yourself.”

But the young man for a moment still kept silence. He was overcome by emotion. This pæan sung to labor, this glorification of work as an organizer and a pacificator, had given him a sudden shock, as if a spirit had inspired him, opening before him a vast horizon where up to that moment there had seemed only fog. Now he understood, now he was animated, now he felt absolute certainty as to his life-work. It was faith that seemed to shine forth in living words that came from his mouth with extraordinary fluency and persuasion.

“You must not sell to Delaveau.... I went to look at the old mine this morning. Even what can be got out of the present lodes will yield a handsome profit if subjected to the chemical processes recently discovered; and Morfain has convinced me that we may soon find some excellent lodes on the other side of the gorge.... There will probably be untold wealth there. The blast-furnace will do the smelting without great expense, and if it were made to include a forge, furnaces for puddling, furnaces for crucibles, drawing-rollers, and steam-hammers, the manufacture of rails and frame-work could be undertaken on a large scale, so as to compete successfully with the largest steel-works in the East and North.”

Jordan’s surprise increased, and he seemed almost alarmed. A sudden protest escaped him:

“But I don’t want to be richer. I have too much money already, and I was thinking of selling the works to get rid of all these sources of gain.”

Luc interrupted him with an eager gesture.

“Let me finish, my dear friend.... It is not that I wish to make you richer. It is the poor who have their wrongs, the laborers whom we have been talking about, the victims of overwork — work that has debased them, that has treated them like convicts at the galleys, that I wish to save. You said just now, proudly, that labor ought to be a social factor, and, as you said it, a way to save these people seemed to reveal itself to me. The just and happy society of the future can be carried out solely by the reorganization of labor, which is the only way to admit every one to a fair share of wealth. I have just had a dazzling vision of how it may all be realized. The only solution of our miseries and sufferings is this: It is no use to try to rebuild the old edifice, which is cracked and crumbling, except on the foundation of work — work by all and for all, work accepted as the lever of the universe, work which regulates the worlds.... Well, it is just that that I want to attempt here. I shall, at least, be able to make my experiment an example; it will be a reorganization of labor on a small scale, a fraternal factory, a rough draught, as it were, of what society may become in the future. It will show how different it can be from that other establishment at the Pit, which thrives upon the toil of its wage-earners; that prison, those galleys where the workman is a slave, tortured and dishonored.”

And he went on speaking with eager words. He sketched out his late dream, all that had been working within him since he read Fourier — a project of association between wealth, work, and talent. Jordan would furnish the necessary capital; Bonnaire and his comrades would bring the strength of their arms; and he himself would contribute the brain which would plan and direct everything. He was walking about the room again; he pointed with his outstretched hand to the roofs of Beauclair; it was Beauclair that he hoped to save — Beauclair that he would deliver from the criminal and shameful things that he had seen there in the last three days. As he unfolded his plan for its rehabilitation, he was astonished at himself; he was filled with wonder. He was putting into words the mission that had been conceived within him, he hardly knew how, while he had been looking about him to find it, with a heart filled with pity. Now his way was suddenly made clear; his mission was found.

It furnished him a solution of the painful questions that had troubled his thoughts in the long hours of his wakeful night — questions to which he had found no answer; and, above all, it provided a response to those appeals for help which had come to him out of the darkness. He now heard them distinctly; he would hasten to help those who thus called on him; he would save them by labor regenerated — work which need not divide men into classes, hating and devouring one another, but which would unite them into one brotherhood — one family, where the labor of all should be utilized in one common effort for the general good.

“But,” objected Jordan, “to carry out the system of Fourier does not involve the destruction of the relations between master and laborer. Even among those who favor a division of profits, the system of wage-payer and wage-earner only changes its name. You will have to go so far as the wild dream of anarchy if you want to destroy it.”

Luc could not but agree; and this led him to self-examination. The theories of Bonnaire, the collectivist, the man who believed in association, and the dreams of Lange, the anarchist, still sounded in his ears. The disputation between the Abbé Merle, Hermeline the schoolmaster, and Dr. Novarre was never-ending, recommencing it was likely to go on forever. It was one everlasting chaos of contradictory opinions. Then there passed in review before him all the objections that had been offered to the first writers on the subject by Saint-Simon, Auguste Comte, and Prudhomme. Why should he pin his faith on Fourier’s formula when there were so many others? He knew of some experiments in Fourierism that had turned out well, but he also knew how long it took to work out an experiment, and the difficulty of obtaining decisive results from it. Perhaps this was partly because his nature revolted against revolutionary violence, for he believed in scientific evolution, going on without a break, with all eternity to work in. The sudden total overthrow of the present system, he felt, could not take place without involving terrible catastrophes, the result of which would be to produce more poverty and suffering than existed before. Therefore, was it not best to accept the opportunity now offered of carrying on a practical experiment — of making an attempt in which all his own better feelings could take part, his kindness of heart, his faith in the latent goodness to be found in all men, in love and the domestic hearth, and the tenderness he felt for all mankind? He was carried away, it seemed to him, by a heroic inspiration, and he was filled with faith in his experiment; he foresaw that success would be certain. And, besides, even if Fourier’s doctrine did not lead to the immediate destruction of the system of wage-payer and wage-earner, it might put things on the road to it. It would lead in the end to conquest, to the destruction of capital, and to the inutility of money, that source of all men’s woes. The great quarrel among the groups of socialists was about means only; for all agreed as to the end in view, and all would one day become reconciled in the happy city, after it should have been constructed. He wanted to lay the foundation-stones of this glorious city, and to begin by associating together all men disposed to help him, and by drawing all scattered forces round him, since he felt sure that there was nothing better to begin with, considering the present frightful state of things.

But Jordan was still sceptical.

“Fourier,” said he, “no doubt had gleams of genius. I am sure of that. But he has been dead for sixty years, and even if he still retains some devoted disciples, I do not see that his religion shows any probability of conquering the world.”

“It took Christianity four centuries to conquer part of it,” replied Luc, quickly; “and I do not adopt all the ideas of Fourier. To me he was only a wise man, who in one day of genial lucidity had a vision of the truth. He was not the only one, for others had anticipated his formula, and others will carry it out.... Just see. You cannot deny that the evolution going on to-day had its origin far off in the past. Our whole century has been pregnant with the idea of creating a new social system, which will be born before long. Laborers during the past hundred years have been gradually obtaining more recognition in our social system, and before long will be masters of their own destinies, through that law of science which assures the existence of the strongest, the best, and the most worthy.... We are to help this on; we are to take part in the final struggle between the privileged classes, who have stolen wealth, and the great crowd of laborers, who wish to have their share in the good things of which they have been despoiled for centuries. We learn all this from history, which tells us how some have enjoyed the greatest possible happiness at the expense of others, and how the poor creatures thus disinherited have never ceased to struggle to regain as much as they could.... The bitter fight has gone on for fifty years, and that is why, you see, the privileged classes, mad with fear, are surrendering, of their own free-will, certain of their privileges. The time draws near; we feel it by the concessions that property-owners and men of wealth are making to the people. In politics much has been granted them, and in matters of social economy more will have to be given. New laws in favor of working-men, humanitarian reforms, the triumph of labor syndicates and unions, presage what will take place in a future era. The battle between labor and capital is now at a crisis, and we may predict that defeat will be with the latter. A time will come when the system which divides wage - payers and wage - earners will come to an end. And that is why I feel sure of victory if we assist the system which is to replace that of the wage-payer and the wage-earner, that reorganization of labor which will give us a more just social system and a higher civilization.”

He seemed to gleam with faith, hope, and charity. He went on. He recapitulated the history of the past — the robbery, from the earliest ages, of the weak by the strong; crowds of poor wretches reduced to slavery; he spoke of men who had committed crimes that they might not make restitution to the needy who were dying of hunger and violence. And all the world’s wealth heaped by time, he showed, was in the hands of but a few persons — property-owners — who had lands, houses, factories, and mines in which lay unworked coal and metal, men who put capital into transportation, rolling-stock, canals, railroads — nay, even into government bonds, men who owned the gold and silver, hundreds and thousands of which were paid out by the banks; in short, all the good things of this earth, everything that contributes to the good fortune of men. And was it not an abomination that all this wealth should lead only to the frightful indigence of the greater number of people? Did this not cry for justice? Was there not an inevitable necessity for a new division? Such injustice on the one hand, such idleness on the other, caused by a plethora of riches, while hopeless toil, necessitated by poverty, had turned men into wolves. Instead of uniting to conquer and utilize the forces of nature, men devoured one another; the barbarous social system made them hate their fellow-men, made them err, go mad, abandon their children and their aged parents, crush women into beasts of burden or into instruments of lust. The laborers themselves, corrupted by bad example, resigned themselves to slavery, and succumbed to the baseness that was universal. And what bad use was made of wealth — enormous sums spent for war, large amounts given to useless office-holders, to judges, and to gendarmes! — besides all the money that lay useless in the hands of merchants, those parasitical middle-men, who make their money out of consumers! Such was the daily leakage of wealth caused by an illogical social system. There was crime, besides, and also hunger, imposed by owners on their workpeople to increase their own profits. They would reduce the output of a factory; they would impose days of idleness on miners; and they would use poverty as an instrument of warfare that they might keep up prices; and then they would be astonished if the machine broke down under such a mass of suffering, injustice, and shame!

BOOK: Complete Works of Emile Zola
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