He takes
from the luminous centre a handful of light, and scatters it broadcast
among the drowsy populations of the duller regions. This human
pyrotechnic is a scholar without learning, a juggler hoaxed by
himself, an unbelieving priest of mysteries and dogmas, which he
expounds all the better for his want of faith. Curious being! He
has seen everything, known everything, and is up in all the ways
of the world. Soaked in the vices of Paris, he affects to be the
fellow-well-met of the provinces. He is the link which connects the
village with the capital; though essentially he is neither Parisian
nor provincial,--he is a traveller. He sees nothing to the core: men
and places he knows by their names; as for things, he looks merely at
their surface, and he has his own little tape-line with which to
measure them. His glance shoots over all things and penetrates none.
He occupies himself with a great deal, yet nothing occupies him.
Jester and jolly fellow, he keeps on good terms with all political
opinions, and is patriotic to the bottom of his soul. A capital mimic,
he knows how to put on, turn and turn about, the smiles of persuasion,
satisfaction, and good-nature, or drop them for the normal expression
of his natural man. He is compelled to be an observer of a certain
sort in the interests of his trade. He must probe men with a glance
and guess their habits, wants, and above all their solvency. To
economize time he must come to quick decisions as to his chances of
success,--a practice that makes him more or less a man of judgment; on
the strength of which he sets up as a judge of theatres, and
discourses about those of Paris and the provinces.
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