A poorly behaved lady

The Popular Club of Faubourg organized a discussion the other day on the penal colony and in favor of the convicts whose fate is worthy of pity. Because a convict has no more freedom than a schoolboy; he is as poorly fed as a soldier and subjected to such humiliating servitude (with this mitigation, however, that he is no longer forced to kill anyone).

Several speakers took the podium one after the other and said these things eloquently. Then the President of the Club turned to a charming artist who never missed a beat and who was at his side on the platform. He asked her to give her opinion. The lady did not need to be asked.

I think, she declared, that the assassins must consider themselves very lucky to still have their heads on their shoulders and to be fed at the expense of the State. I reserve my pity for more unjust misfortunes. Besides...

This speech was interrupted by a concert of whistles, howls, insults and imprecations. On leaving, the police had to protect the young woman against mob justice, which claimed to exercise her rights.

Popular justice was just, as always. Because the artist, in the circumstances, had completely lacked tact and education. It would be an exaggeration to say that the Faubourg audience that evening was made up of people who were returning from Cayenne or who were planning to take the next boat to get there. But it was easy to predict that a debate on the penal colony would attract everyone who has family or friends in our penal colonies. These people were animated by the best feelings; it was important not to crease them.

In the height of awkwardness, the young artist had come to attend the meeting in a sumptuous squirrel coat that the audience considered just as offensive as her words, and even more inappropriate.

For there are no hateful feelings; there are only misplaced feelings. There are no misconceptions; there are only scandalous ideas. Scandal is a manifestation of a relative order: it consists of carrying out a meritorious gesture or stating an absolute truth in an environment which is hostile to the truth or which is not disposed to accept the gesture without violent reaction. A scandal is something which is perhaps excellent in itself, from both an ethical and aesthetic point of view, but which is very poorly located, for example, an apron on the belly of a cow, a bell on the neck of a minister, or a peacock feather on the back of a member of the Institute.

Suppose that during a patriotic meeting organized between soldiers and people of the world a brave guy in a cap shouts: “Down with the war!” » He will say something excellent, but he will behave like a badly behaved man, because he will offend the feelings of those present. His cap and his remarks will be as scandalous in this distinguished environment as could be, in a liberated and popular environment, a squirrel coat aggravating the expression of overly bourgeois feelings.
A drunk who goes to sing a Bacchic hymn at a meeting of the Salvation Army is a badly behaved man... A member of the Salvation Army who goes to give a speech on temperance in front of the bistro counter on a Saturday evening , when the gentlemen are drunk, is also a badly behaved man. Yet a Bacchic hymn and a sermon on temperance are two things equally excellent in themselves.

Politicians, in general, and candidates, in particular, demonstrate perfect education. Because they are always of the opinion of the electoral crowd, whose desires they strive to forestall and anticipate their feelings.

As for Polyeuctus, Saint John Chrysostom, the vehement apostles who braved martyrdom for the pleasure of hurting the unanimous feelings of people, we cannot say that they are precisely heroes or exactly madmen. What we can say is that they are poorly brought up people,

G. DE LA FOUCHARDIÈRE.