What a curious man, madame, this organist is!  His name is that of one of our greatest physicians,—­though they are not related to each other,—­Bricheteau.  No one ever showed more activity, more presence of mind, more devotion, more intelligence; and there are not two men in all Europe who can play the organ as he does.  You say you do not want Nais to be a mere piano strummer; then I advise you to let this Bricheteau teach her.  He is a man who would show her what music really is; he will not give himself airs, for I assure you he is as modest as he is gifted.  To Sallenauve he is like a little terrier; as watchful, as faithful, and I may add as ugly,—­if so good and frank a countenance as his can ever be thought anything but handsome!

XVII

MARIE-GASTON TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE L’ESTORADE

Arcis-sur-Aube, May 16, 1839.

Madame,—­Last evening the preparatory meeting took place,—­a ridiculous ceremony, very annoying to the candidates, which cannot, however, be avoided.

Perhaps it is natural that before pledging themselves to a man who is to represent them for four or five years, voters should want to question him, and discover, if possible, what he really is.  Is he a man of intelligence?  Does he really sustain the ideas put forth about him?  Will he be cordial and affable to the various interests which may claim his support?  Is he firm in character?  Can he defend his ideas —­if he has any?  In a word, will the constituency be worthily, faithfully, and honestly represented?  That is the serious and respectable aspect of this institution, which, not being a part of the law, must, in order to be so firmly fixed in our customs, have a sound reason for its existence.

But every medal has its reverse; as may be seen in these meetings of candidates with electors puffed up by their own self-importance, eager to exercise for a moment the sovereignty they are about to delegate to their deputy, and selling it as dearly as they can to him.  Considering the impertinence of certain questions addressed to a candidate, it would really seem as if the latter were a serf over whom each elector had rights of life and death.  Not a corner of his private life where the unhappy man is safe from prying curiosity.  All things are possible in the line of preposterous questioning; for instance:  Why does the candidate prefer the wine of Champagne to the wine of Bordeaux?  At Bordeaux, where wine is a religion, this preference implies an idea of non-patriotism and may seriously affect the election.  Many voters go to these meetings solely to enjoy the embarrassment of the candidates.  Holding them as it were in the pillory, they play with them like a child with a beetle, an old judge with the criminal he examines, or a young surgeon at an autopsy.

Others have not such elevated tastes; they come merely to enjoy the racket, the confusion of tongues which is certain to take place on such occasions.  Some see their opportunity to exhibit a choice talent; for (as they say in the reports of the Chamber) when “the tumult is at its height,” a cock is heard to crow or a dog to howl as if his paw were trodden upon,—­noises that are imitated with marvellous accuracy.  But truly, are not fools and stupid beings a majority in the world, and ought they not to have their representative?