Chapter 72
A conclusion to my work, with uplifting remarks

And finally, here I am, at my last chapter! A few more days, and my work will be in the hands of the sovereigns to whom I dedicate it. A few more days, then, and all the goblins of the earth will be afraid, reviled, pursued, and driven from the world that they corrupt with their presence!

Oh my God! How many prayers of thanks I have to offer you! I have managed to finish the work that the goblins assured me I could not complete. 

Soon, the Jeannetons la Vallette, the Mansottes, the Vandevalls,will no longer belong to that fair sex that brings happiness to all virtuous souls, when it allows itself to be guided by virtue.

Soon, Dr. Pinel will no longer have the power to claim that he knows how to cure insanity, and he will no longer be able to let himself accuse someone of momomania, because they had the talent to divine and understand true wisdom.

Soon, Mr. Moreau and Ms. Lenormand will no longer be able to deceive anyone with their so-called necromancy, nothing more than the art of fascinating the gullible people who give them their money, buying the pleasure their shuffling the cards of chance for a fortune that never goes against their wishes. 

Soon, the Prieur family, Papon Lomini, and all the medical students at the universities will no longer be able to unite against the one who must truly be considered their scourge, and when they could not enlist him into their diabolical company, the one they called mad. 

Soon the Bouges and the Nicolas will no longer use Magnetism to enlist unfortunate souls into the service of Beelzebub and Satan, who were their masters before they were the masters of Pinel and Moreau.

Soon, my friend Chaix will set out for the capital and arrive at full speed, in order to prosecute me before the criminal court for slandering him.

Soon, I will emerge, triumphant, from all his attacks, because the judges before whom I will be summoned will never lose sight of the solemn declaration I have made, and which I must repeat at the end of my work: I never intended to attack my enemies as men and women, but only as goblins. It is only when they are the devil’s agents that I consider them my enemies. I only wish them harm when they make themselves invisible. On the contrary, I am their friend, when they present themselves in their human guises, and everything I have done for them supports this argument.

Soon, doctors will no longer be charlatans, and soon, lawyers will no longer drag out the cases they handle for an eternity. 

Soon, inheritance executors will be forced to give an account of their management.

Soon, prosecutors and attorneys will be obliged to hand over their documents when asked, and will not pay themselves out of pocket until they have completed the cases they have been entrusted with. 

Soon, all the black-robed rabble will no longer be able to send the unfortunate litigants who must resort to them from Herod to Pilate.

Soon, those to whom we make deposits will no longer appropriate what does not belong to them, and will be held accountable to the trust placed in them. 

Soon, I will have nothing to fear from taking legal action against those who refuse to account for themselves.

Soon, the King of France will force all the lawyers of his council to be worthy of the revered title they adorn themselves with, instead of remaining in a reprehensible state of inaction. 

Soon, the government will manufacture larding-bottles to trap all the elves, and they will be imprisoned in bottles on the shelves of kings and rulers. 

Soon, those who are ordered to hand over to third parties the sums entrusted to them, without demanding a receipt from them, will act in accord with these two great teachings of the Gospel: Render to God what is God’s, and to Caesar what is Caesar’s. You shall not withhold the good of others.

I would never finish if I were to describe in this chapter everything the goblins will soon endure. So, let me conclude with my peroration. 

Oh my God! You read the depths of my heart, you know that I have no other ambition then to serve you, to adore you, and to submit to your divine will; inspire in the sovereigns to whom I dedicate my work, the will to assist me in all my operations. 

Force the unbelievers to believe all the truths I have revealed to them, though the goblins will describe them as fanciful dreams.

Let the men of letters be the first to proclaim the value of the work they will be reading in a very few days. 

Bring all sensitive souls into my apartments, let them see my bed covered with pins, needles, and awls, which hold the goblins captive, which, though stuck in every direction, would perhaps have killed anyone else who would not use them for your greater glory, as I did. Support me in the daily and nightly battles I wage against your enemies, whose numbers increase every day, despite the losses I inflict on them with my anti-goblin cures. 

Inspire the unfortunate souls whose backs ache to prick their clothes with pins, as I do, every moment of the day, to imprison the goblins who torment me, who I stun with a swift blow, which will not kill them, but forces them to pay a visit to Mr. Pinel to heal the wounds I inflicted. 

Make Mansotte and Jeanneton La Valette repent of having given me a fate that brought such misfortune to my life. 

Give Pinel, Bouge, and Nicolas the example of the true children of Aesculapius, who sacrificed themselves for the good of humanity, who leveled the mountains that separated us from a people who will be our ally for life. [1] Let the goblin doctors know how much Mazet’s devotion has pleased you [2], he is now in your holy paradise, while the others find no pleasure save in following the orders of Beelzebub, who will torment them when they leave this world, where now they revel in wandering invisibly and listening to the lessons of the grand dark monsters of goblinkind. 

Inspire the priests of your church to make an  auto-da-fés of the cards used by the Moreau, the Lenormands, necromancers and fortune-tellers, men and women both, who deceive the gullible people, and make themselves fall into the traps set for them by the grand masters of the diabolical society.  [3]

Bring Etienne Prieur back to the seminary where he had begun to repent of his many, many errors. Inspire his mother with a little more civility than when she was unafraid to write me a more than dishonest letter. Give his father more strength so that he can be the master in his own house. Bring his brothers and Papon Lomini back to the path of virtue, from which tye have strayed, after listening to the advice of the most persistent of my enemies. 

Make my friend Chaix blush for having been the faithful agent of the company that persecutes me. Lead him from the goblin path he has been traveling since he was no longer a mail courier. Since he loves to travel, bring him back to the service of that very useful office, rather than letting him run from the path from earth to hell, and hell to the storm-clouds which he has called up so many times to destroy the crops in the southern regions of France. 

Inspire the ministers of the sovereigns who represent you on earth, so that they may guide their masters to support me in all I do to destroy the goblins. 

Keep so-called philosophers away from the instruction of our youth, who pervert them instead of instructing them. 

Open the eyes of all the schoolboys who believe themselves to be men before they have grown a beard on their chin.

Protect innocent young maidens against the efforts of monsters who would try to claim what does not belong to them. Put books of piety and faith in the hands of children, and stop them from reading novels, which will give them a taste for the passions that degrade men and women. 

Ensure respect for your sacred faith and the new followers who spread its sacred doctrines. The shepherd will bring the lost sheep back to the fold. 

Make the priests of your altars resolute in their refusal to take into their churches the bodies of mortals who were so weak as to commit suicide. May they follow in my example, and learn from my leadership that men do not have the power to take from themselves the most precious gift given to us through your infinite power. 

Remind the leaders of the world the mandate they received from your divine will. You have imposed on them the duty of bringing happiness to those who obey their laws; therefore, their laws must be as gentle as those you impose on them. 

More and more, instill in the souls of young ladies and women that virtue, decency, modesty, restraint, and a reserved nature are the most noble attributes of their empire, and one that they must exercise over men.[4]

Cast out from the heavens this race of strange spirits, enemies of your power, whom I have so correctly called goblins.  

To the judges who accept the difficult task of examining the actions of man, give them the discernment they need to avoid making mistakes. Then, I will have no need to fear the denunciation Mr. Chaix threatens me with. I will be able to defy his threats, and if he attacks me, it will only show further proof of the weakness of his mind, when he no longer is protected by the invisibility that Beelzebub grants him every time he wants to persecute me. 

Tear from the lawyers and prosecutors their ridiculous, overblown paper costumes that cover up so many of their faults, and through which they make a shield against all those, who like myself, have the courage to reveal them.

Let the angel who announces the end of the world to humans proclaim that there is still time to repent. Perhaps I will have the satisfaction of seeing them all return to the temple of virtue–the bigot without religion, the dangerous and perfidious hypocrite, the false friend, the ambitious, the proud, the slanderer, the misanthrope, the atheist, the unbeliever, the irreligious, the slanderer, the informer, [5], and all the wretches who make up this dreadful company that has persecuted me for more than 26 years.

Banish from our unhappy land all the fools who occupy themselves with politics, who hide from the fact that it only yields gains when it is escorted by discord and cruelty. Then the azure vault of the sky will never see those so-called philosophers who are only virtuous when they are asleep, assuming they aren’t criminals in their dreams; those writers who spend every waking hour finding the phrase that will best rile up the emotions of those who have the misfortune to read what they produce, poets who are only happy when they can write a slanderous verse against the men who follow all your precepts, a song against those who sing your hymns, a medley against the most sacred things on earth, a heresy against the truths that have been revealed to us, and on which you have based your religion, propagated by your good shepherds. 

Preserve our beautiful France from the plague that has afflicted our neighboring people. The majority of the French now walk the path of good, but for too long, we have strayed from it.

Close the houses of gambling, debauchery, and prostitution, where the recruiters of the goblin army make their regular homes. Then the bodies of the unfortunate will not roll in with the flow of the Siene, those whom despair drove to their deaths, believing it would put an end of their suffering, washing them into the nets of Saint-Cloud, their eternal lives sacrificed to the power of Beelzebub, grand master of the infernal race, the cruel goblins. [6]

Guide the steps of the humans who wish to come and see my room, and contemplate in the original what I had my painter render in my latest lithograph. Then I’ll be recognized for the war I am waging, I will be able to persecute the damned goblins who are tormenting me, I’ll be seen on my bed, armed with my awls, covered by ten thousand pins, holding my blanket suspended over my body, surrounded by the goblins I have vanquished, unable to resist me, even though they were lead by the infamous and cruel Rhotomago. My revealing tubs and my prison bottles, fatal to the goblin race, will be unveiled and examined. Then you can see in full detail the whole of the lithography I had placed on page 420 of this volume, opposite my last chapter, to give more weight to this final portion of my work, and to show my readers the sufferings I have made the elves endure. 

Oh, my God! I have so many prayers of thanksgiving to give you. Despite the goblins, my work is finished, my enemies despair. Despite them, i will always wear the hairstyle characteristic of my determination. I will offer each journalist two copies of the work that will immortalize me. Then I will see if there are any goblins among them, I’ll win criticism from the goblins, and praise from all the rest. 

I thank you, oh, my God! Today is the last day I will go to my printers to bring him my manuscript. Though he tells me he no longer needs it, if I do not want to go beyond 28 sheets in my third volume. [7] So I will have to reserve for some future project everything I still have to write against the goblins. So much the better! Then I’ll have new material, and my response to my critics will be perfect. 

I lay myself before you at your feet, creator and master of heaven and earth. My soul expands, my spirit is purified, my body is freed from everything that caused it suffering. I see Mr. Pinel confounded, Moreau in the small houses, Chaix banished from his beautiful homeland, Etienne Prieur desolated, his father, mother, brothers and cousins consumed by remorse. I see Vandeval, the young woman, Lavalette, and La Mansotte asking for mercy from your omnipotence. The moment of your authority has arrived. The earth will no longer be sullied by these hellish goblins. 

God of heaven and earth, bless my work. Bend it toward your greatest glory; may the hatred I bear to the goblins, the battles I fight against them, destroy them entirely; may your justice weigh down on all those would try to have only Beelzebub as their master. When the hears carries the remains of a goblin, grant me the discernment to know that during his life, the deceased belonged to that infernal race. Then I will follow him to the church where he is being transported, to address this prayer to you: Lord, may your justice be done; punish with the flames of hell the one whose mortal remains are going to be presented in your temple, the cause of a new profanation. I will not be offended by the looks of his accomplices who must accompany him to the cemetery, who do not hesitate to point to me as having been the cause of their relative’s death. 

Keep away from your church those who doubt your omnipotence, those who are your enemies and mine. Grant me the talent to recognize their criminal, dark and ferocious looks; when they dare to stare at me, even in your holy sanctuary, at the moment when your beloved Son’s holy sacrifice is celebrated. Force the elves to read my work, let them feel shame at my triumph and my joys. 

Bring before me the virgin whom I promised to associate, once the destiny and my victory is complete. I have already received almost all the sacraments, it is written in your holy paradise that I must also enjoy that of marriage. 

Strike down all the libertines who praise adultery. They are very dangerous goblins. 

Grant me all the virtues necessary for the blessed that you admit into the abode of the righteous. 

Ensure that through the sale of my work, I may recover my uncle’s fortune, which the goblins deprived me of, so that I may make happy those who dwell here with me. Give me the means to relieve misfortune, to provide alms, and to offer hospitality to the poor who seek help from others. 

Reward all those who have served me in this world, who have succeeded in lightening the burden of my dreadful torments. 

Help me persevere in this kind of life which, at times, has brought me so much consultation Preserve me from intemperance, gluttony, pride, vanity, laziness, envy, avarice, and all the vices you have so rightly called mortal sins.

Make faith, hope, and charity grow in me, the three holy virtues that I have always practiced, and will practice, as long as I am on earth.

When I am married, give me successors worthy of you and me. And if it is your will, may there still be elves; when they arrive on this world of troubles, deliver my offspring from them. [8]

Preserve me from slander, I believe I have been slandered enough.

Give me the eloquence I need to respond triumphantly to my detractors. Do not allow them to fool anyone with their sardonic, diabolical, ludicrous goblin criticism.

To the glory I have already acquired, let me add to that glory by remaining devoted to you and sacrificing my peace to the well-felt plan I have formed, always to be pleasing to you.

Good God! Good God! God god! Let honest people recognize me as one of your faithful servants, and there will be nothing more that I desire.

Pure joy! The love of god fills all my senses. For a long time I did not know what the word happiness meant on this earth. And now I know what the word means, I am happy.

What I feel at this moment cannot be described . I see before me all that nature has made perfect. I am in awe of a celestial beauty that represents to me the one who must one day bring me happiness.

Oh my god! Enlighten me with your divine light. I beg you to let me look upon your image, I pray to you, and you answer my prayers. 

You have restored my health, you have given me the strength to resist every temptation. Thank you, my god, thank you! In the image you have been gracious enough to grant me, you are glorious, and I am happy!

Here we are, in the year one thousand, eight hundred, and twenty-two, and it is on the first day of this year that I am finishing my third volume. And in the first half of January I will offer my work as a New Year’s gift to the sovereigns to whom I dedicated it. .

Ah! How better could I finish my work than with a song composed by one of my young friends, who tells me I am a poet, even though I have never written a verse in my life? 

Virtuous mortals, let us all sing together!

 

[1] Uncertain of this” make an example of the true children of Aesculapius, who sacrificed themselves for the good of humanity, and who leveled the Pyranees that separated us from a people will be our alley for life. “ 

[2] Mazet: This likely refers to Andre Mazet (1793-1821). Mazet wrote about the Yellow Fever, and died of the disease in 1821 when he was fighting an outbreak in Barcelona. 

[3] Burning here, “auto-da-fés,” which in this case sounds like a book-burning, but carries the implication of a public ceremony to shame and possibly execute heretics and sorcerers. We are somewhere between book-burning and witch-burning, inclusive.I’ve used “fortune-tellers” but M.B. used “bohemians,” which is a catch-all for urban, vaguely foreign, artsy people, but also a term strongly associated Romani and traveling people. I may be erring on the side of political correctness but it seems like M.B. was venting his ire at tarot cards more than Romani. 

[4] Copy-pasting from a 200-year-old scanned book creates some occasional hiccups, but in this “Ladies, be modest!” the copy-paste created the term “Fempire,” which is a word that I think could be used in some later project. 

[5] The word here is “delature,” which means whistleblower/informer/snitch. It seems to be a word with some legal use, like an accuser in a trial, but one who wasn’t affected by the crime. There’s a connotation here that’s more relevant for someone who lived through the French Revolution, which had revolutionary tribunals, accusations that made people criminals without anything like a trial. One 1791 dictionary (Dictionnaire laconique) gives the following definition: denunciator,” which also receives an extremely vehement article: “denunciator, vermin of the State, public plague that transforms the citizen into an informer or the executioner’s footman, to drag his brothers under the butchers’ sword.” There’s cultural weight and bile that don’t translate into modern English. 

[6] “Filets de Saint-Cloud” – The bridge over the Seine in Saint-Cloud had a dark reputation – there was a rumor that no French king could cross it without suffering a sudden death. Nets were hung from the large stone bridge over the Siene, to catch whatever would have otherwise drifted down the river…but they had a particular notoriety in the popular imagination and literature of the early 19th century for catching dead bodies that were drifting away from Paris. Imagine writing a letter to a former lover who’d lost themselves in the pleasures of the big city, telling them you searched for them nightly in the filets de Saint-Cloud, making sure you smudged the ink of the letter with a tear. That’s the spirit of the thing.

[7] In book publishing, one large sheet of paper is divided into quarters, eights, or sixteenths to produce a book. 28 16-page folios is a 448-page book. 

[8] Toward the end of the super hero comedy “Mystery Men,” a mother is looking at her costumed, crime-fighting son, and hands him over the family silverware, saying “They belonged to your great-great grandmother. I was saving these for your wedding today, but, from the looks of it, that day…it’s probably a long way off.” This is one specific prayer that God does not answer.