{"chapter_no":"7","chapter_title":"Live Life Merrily, Life is All","book_id":"5","book_name":"Truth Management","subchapter_no":"0","page_no":"747","page_number":"1","verses_count":0,"total_pages":3,"page_content":"

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Chapter 7<\/p>

Live Life Merrily, Life is All<\/h1><\/p>

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Excerpt from <\/i>Les Miserables; the good bishop listens and responds to a senator’s argument
against faith in God—Not everyone who wants to live merrily for today has that choice; the world
bestows few rewards upon the vast populations of the poor, sick, and afflicted in his life.<\/i><\/p>

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In an excerpt from Les Miserables<\/i>, a senator presents his opinion about faith in God to
Bishop M. Myriel of D––. The encounter is captured as follows: <\/p>

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On some semi-official occasion or other, I do not recollect what, Count*** [this senator]
and M. Myriel were to dine with the prefect. At dessert, the senator, who was slightly
exhilarated, though still perfectly dignified, exclaimed:— <\/i><\/p>

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\"Egad, Bishop, let's have a discussion. It is hard for a senator and a bishop to look at
each other without winking. We are two augurs. I am going to make a confession to you. I have a
philosophy of my own.\" <\/i><\/p>

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\"And you are right,\" replied the Bishop. \"As one makes one's philosophy, so one lies on
it. You are on the bed of purple, senator.\"<\/i><\/p>

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...<\/i><\/p>

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The senator resumed:— <\/i><\/p>

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“<\/i>A drop of vinegar in a spoonful of flour paste supplies the fiat lux.<\/i> <\/i>Suppose the drop to
be larger and the spoonful bigger; you have the world. Man is the eel. Then what is the good of
the Eternal Father? The Jehovah hypothesis tires me, Bishop. It is good for nothing but to
produce shallow people, whose reasoning is hollow. Down with that great All, which torments
me! Hurrah for Zero which leaves me in peace! Between you and me, and in order to empty my
sack, and make confession to my pastor, as it behooves me to do, I will admit to you that I have
good sense. I am not enthusiastic over your Jesus, who preaches renunciation and sacrifice to
the last extremity.<\/i> '<\/i>Tis the counsel of an avaricious man to beggars. Renunciation; why?
Sacrifice; to what end? I do not see one wolf immolating himself for the happiness of another
wolf. Let us stick to nature, then. We are at the top; let us have a superior philosophy. What is
the advantage of being at the top, if one sees no further than the end of other people's noses?<\/i><\/p>

“<\/i>Let us live merrily. Life is all. That man has another future elsewhere, on high, below,
anywhere, I don't believe; not one single word of it. Ah! sacrifice and renunciation are
recommended to me; I must take heed to everything I do; I must cudgel my brains over good and
evil, over the just and the unjust, over the fas and the nefas. Why? Because I shall have to render
an account of my actions. When? After death. What a fine dream! After my death it will be a very
clever person who can catch me. Have a handful of dust seized by a shadow-hand, if you can. Let
us tell the truth, we who are initiated, and who have raised the veil of Isis: there is no such thing
as either good or evil; there is vegetation. Let us seek the real. Let us get to the bottom of it. Let
us go into it thoroughly. What the deuce! let us go to the bottom of it! We must scent out the
truth; dig in the earth for it, and seize it. Then it gives you exquisite joys. Then you grow strong,
and you laugh. I am square on the bottom, I am. <\/i><\/p>

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Immortality, Bishop, is a chance, a waiting for dead men's shoes. Ah! what a charming
promise! trust to it, if you like! What a fine lot Adam has! We are souls, and we shall be angels,
with blue wings on our shoulder-blades. Do come to my assistance: is it not Tertullian who says
that the blessed shall travel from star to star? Very well. We shall be the grasshoppers of the
stars. And then, besides, we shall see God. Ta, ta, ta! What twaddle all these paradises are! God
is a nonsensical monster. I would not say that in the Moniteur, egad! but I may whisper it among
friends. Inter pocula. To sacrifice the world to paradise is to let slip the prey for the shadow. Be
the dupe of the infinite! I'm not such a fool. I am a nought. I call myself Monsieur le Comte
Nought, senator. <\/i><\/p>

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Did I exist before my birth? No. Shall I exist after death? No. What am I? A little dust
collected in an organism. What am I to do on this earth? The choice rests with me: suffer or
enjoy. Whither will suffering lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have suffered. Whither will
enjoyment lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have enjoyed myself. My choice is made. One
must eat or be eaten. I shall eat. It is better to be the tooth than the grass. Such is my wisdom.
After which, go whither I push thee, the grave-digger is there; the Pantheon for some of us: all
falls into the great hole. End. Finis. Total liquidation. This is the vanishing-point. Death is death,
believe me. I laugh at the idea of there being any one who has anything to tell me on that subject. <\/i>
Fables of nurses; bugaboo for children; Jehovah for men. No; our to-morrow is the night.<\/i><\/p>

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Beyond the tomb there is nothing but equal nothingness. You have been Sardanapalus,
you have been Vincent de Paul—it makes no difference. That is the truth. Then live your life,
above all things. Make use of your I while you have it. In truth, Bishop, I tell you that I have a
philosophy of my own, and I have my philosophers. I don't let myself be taken in with that
nonsense. Of course, there must be something for those who are down,—for the barefooted
beggars, knife-grinders, and miserable wretches. Legends, chimeras, the soul, immortality,
paradise, the stars, are provided for them to swallow. They gobble it down. They spread it on
their dry bread. He who has nothing else has the good. God. That is the least he can have. I
oppose no objection to that; but I reserve Monsieur Naigeon for myself. The good God is good
for the populace.\"<\/i><\/p>

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The Bishop clapped his hands. \"That's talking!\" he exclaimed. \"What an excellent and
really marvellous thing is this materialism! Not every one who wants it can have it. Ah! when
one does have it, one is no longer a dupe, one does not stupidly allow one's self to be exiled like <\/i><\/p>

Cato, nor stoned like Stephen, nor burned alive like Jeanne d'Arc. Those who have succeeded in
procuring this admirable materialism have the joy of feeling themselves irresponsible, and of<\/i> <\/i>
thinking that they can devour everything without uneasiness,—places, sinecures, dignities,
power, whether well or ill acquired, lucrative recantations, useful treacheries, savory
capitulations of conscience,—and that they shall enter the tomb with their digestion
accomplished. How agreeable that is! I do not say that with reference to you, senator.
Nevertheless, it is impossible for me to refrain from congratulating you. You great lords have, so
you say, a philosophy of your own, and for yourselves, which is exquisite, refined, accessible to
the rich alone, good for all sauces, and which seasons the voluptuousness of life admirably. This
philosophy has been extracted from the depths, and unearthed by special seekers. But you are
good-natured princes, and you do not think it a bad thing that belief in the good God should
constitute the philosophy of the people, very much as the goose stuffed with chestnuts is the
truffled turkey of the poor.\"<\/i><\/p>"}