y
need to win a morsel of bread for their stomachs. Neither of
these objects could be mine; for, as to the first, I hold the
principle of individuality carried quite to anarchy. The
so-called salvation of society is, for our decadent epoch, a
fable, quite impossible; and the naked truth is, that each man
lives for himself, and in his own fashion. The man whom fate
serves well passes his life in a manner more or less agreeable;
if it serves him ill--he perishes. Luck, and the chance meeting
of causes, arranges everything. It is impossible to turn the
earth into a general paradise, just as it is to change a small
planet into an immense one. The salvation of society is one of
the narcotics invented to lull the sufferings of people.
Altruists possess a whole drug-shop of these narcotics; whoever
wishes has the right to use them; but, as for me, I prefer not to
be lulled to sleep. I am an individualist, and do not understand
why Pavel must suffer for the purpose of decreasing the pains of
Gavel. Let Gavel, as well as Pavel, think of himself; and, if
they are clever, they will both help themselves somehow without
turning to labelled bottles. This is my conviction about one of
the objects for which people make regular studies in science. As
to the other--"

He took out his cigarette-ease again, and, lighting a cigarette,
finished:

"As to the other object, that is a simple thing; since being your
son, my father, I shall not need to bake my own bread. Such is my
confession of faith which I have laid down before you; all the
more readily since I have long cherished a genuine reverence for
your strength of mind and independence. I am certain, too, that
by no one could I be understood better than by you, my father."

He was mistaken. The man to whom he was talking so fluently and
politely did not understand him in any sense.

For the first time in his life, perhaps, Darvid did not
understand the person with whom he was talking. The millionnaire
was astounded. He had expected to find a frivolous youth, whom
passions had pushed into extravagance and idleness; meanwhile, a
reasoning, disenchanted sage sat before him, with bitterness on
his lips and irony in his speech and eyes. That sour wisdom, the
measureless belief in himself and his opinions, with the
independence which accompanied it, were found in a slender,
delicate, and rosy-faced youth, with eyes as blue as
forget-me-nots, and came from lips slightly faded, but marke