The testament had been written two months previous and was in these terms: "MY BELOVED SON:""When you read these lines I shall have ceased to live." "You have always believed me poor; but I leave you an immense fortune accumulated by my avarice. "I have been miserly, and do not attempt to excuse my fault; far from it, I am proud of it and glory in it. "And this is why: "Until the day of your birth, which robbed me of your mother, I was unmindful of augmenting my patrimony and the dowry brought me by my wife; the moment I had a son, however, that sentiment of foresight, which becomes a sacred duty to a father, took possession of me, developing slowly into a love of economy, then into parsimony, and finally into avarice. "Moreover, you never suffered through the privations I imposed upon myself. Born sound and robust, the virile simplicity of your education has, I believe, aided the development of your excellent constitution. "When you reached the age of instruction, I sent you to a school opened to the children of poor parents; to begin with, it was a means of economy; and besides, this mode of education was calculated to form and develop habits of a modest, laborious life. The success of this plan surpassed my expectations. Raised among poor children, you never acquired those factitious, expensive tastes; never experienced those bitter envies or vain jealousies which often influence our fate fatally. "I also spared you many griefs which, though childish, are none the less cruel. "You have never had to compare your condition to others more elevated or more opulent than your own. "You have never felt the pangs of that envious hatred inspired by comrades in speaking of the splendor of their homes, boasting of the antique nobility of their race, or the wealth they would enjoy some day. "It is generally believed that because children of dissimilar conditions wear the same uniform, eat at the same table, and follow the same course of study, a sentiment of equality exists between them. "This is a deep error. "Social inequality is as well understood among children as it is among their elders. "The son of a rich bourgeois or of a nobleman, almost invariably betrays at the age of ten the arrogance, or haughtiness he will display in fifteen years later. "Whether children are little men, or men are grown children matters little; all have the consciousness of their condition. "As for you, surrounded as you were by children of the poor, you heard them continually speak of the hard labors of their parents; the indispensable necessity of work was therefore early impressed on your mind. "Others of your companions dwelt on the privations and miseries endured by their families; you thus became accustomed to the idea of our poverty. "Lastly, you saw the greater number of these children resigned and courageous—two of the greatest virtues in the world—and until now, my beloved son, courage and resignation have never failed you. "At fifteen you competed for a scholarship in one of the high schools, where you finished your studies. Your first education had already borne excellent fruits; for, although many of your new companions belonged to the aristocratic world, their contact never altered your precious qualities, and you never knew the meaning of either jealousy or envy. "Later, you entered as junior clerk in a notary's office, with a man who has long been my friend, and who alone holds the secret and administers my fortune. Until now, the discretion of this friend has equaled his devotion. Near him, you have acquired a perfect knowledge of business; and, thanks to my foresight, you shall be in a position to skilfully and advantageously administer the considerable wealth I have amassed. "My conscience does not reproach me; and yet, I admit that I sometimes fear you will address this reproach to my memory: "While you accumulated these riches, my father, you condemned me without mercy to the most cruel privations. "Reflection drives this fear from my heart, however; I remember how frequently you have assured me that you were satisfied with your condition, and that if you desired luxuries it was only for my sake. "In fact, your inexhaustible humor and gentleness, your natural gaiety of spirits and tender affection for me sufficiently prove that you are contented. Moreover, do I not share your privations? Your own economies, added to my earnings as a public scribe, have permitted us to live without touching my revenues. The capital has thus been growing for twenty years in the hands of my prudent administrator. "On the day on which I pen these lines, my fortune amounts to about two millions and a half. "I know not how many years of life may still be allotted to me, but in ten years I shall have attained the average length of human life; you shall then be thirty-five years of age; and since a capital doubles itself in ten years, my wealth shall have attained the enormous sum of four or five millions. "Unless I am stricken down suddenly, you shall therefore, in all probability, attain your complete maturity before entering into possession of these riches. Your sober, modest, industrious habits, contracted in childhood, shall be as a second nature to you; and your knowledge of business will be still more developed by practice. Add to these advantages your uprightness of mind, your strong physical constitution—unimpaired by early excesses—and you will find yourself in the best possible condition to inherit the wealth I have amassed, as well as to enjoy it according to your own tastes which, I am sure, can be nothing but generous and honorable. "You may, perhaps, ask why I simply left my capital to multiply by itself, instead of attempting some great financial operation or enjoying the delights of luxury? "I shall tell you why, my dear child. "Although my avarice had its origin in a sentiment of paternal foresight, it has now assumed all the inherent characteristics of a violent passion. "I could, and can still, deprive myself of everything to accumulate riches upon riches, happy in the thought that it is all for you, and that you will enjoy this gold some day; but to release my hold on any part of my belongings, for any object whatever, or risk anything in financial operations is impossible—no! not while I live! It would be tearing my heart out by the core; for the possession of his treasure is life itself to a miser. Without spending or risking one farthing, I can give myself up in imagination to the most hazardous or magnificent operations. And this is neither a vain desire nor an empty dream. No! no! with what I possess, those magnificences and splendors are realizable to-day, to-morrow, this very hour, if I choose. "How then can you expect that a miser should have the courage or will to release his hold on such a talisman? What! for one project, one realized dream, would I sacrifice a thousand projects, a thousand realizable dreams? Besides, is not my son happy as he is? Would he not be the pride of the proudest of fathers? And is it not for him, for him only, that I hoard up these treasures? "Had I acted differently, what would have been the result? "Had I been lavish, my prodigality would have left you in misery; and had I spent my income only, we would doubtless have lived in idleness and enjoyed a few physical joys or vain satisfactions, but what would we have gained? "Should we have become better? I know not. But at my death I would have left you a reasonable income only, and not sufficient to realize any large and generous undertaking. "One last word, my dear son, in answer to a reproach you may address my memory. "Believe me, if you have been left in ignorance of my riches, it was not through a sentiment of dissimulation or distrust of you. "These were my reasons: "Had you known of my riches, though you might perhaps have accepted the humble existence I imposed on you without a murmur, you would have accused me in your heart of harshness and egotism; and, who knows, the certainty of future riches might perhaps also have impaired your precious qualities. "This is not all—-forgive me this foolish fear, this apprehension which is so unjust to your excellent heart—but to enjoy your filial affection in all its purity and disinterestedness during my life, it was necessary that you should have no thought of an opulent inheritance after my death. "Another reason, the gravest of all, perhaps, has led me to conceal my riches—I love you so tenderly, that it would have been impossible for me to see you undergo any privation if you had known that I could provide the most sumptuous existence for you. "Notwithstanding the apparent contradiction that seems to exist between this sentiment and my avaricious conduct toward you, I hope, my dear child, that you will understand my thought. "And now, I place myself in spirit face to face with death, which may strike me to-day, to-morrow, or this very hour; and I declare, in this supreme and solemn moment, that I bless you from the depth of my soul, my dear beloved child, you who have given me joy and happiness only in this world. "Be a hundred times blessed, Louis, my good, affectionate son; be happy according to your merits, and my last wishes will be accomplished. "Your father, A. RICHARD. "Written and copied in Paris, February 25, 18—" |