160 Les Miserables
to him, from without and from within, an access of wrath,
a surcharge of suffering, a livid and rapid flash which illu-
minated his whole soul, and caused to appear abruptly all
around him, in front, behind, amid the gleams of a fright-
ful light, the hideous precipices and the sombre perspective
of his destiny.
The flash passed, the night closed in again; and where
was he? He no longer knew. The peculiarity of pains of this
nature, in which that which is pitiless—that is to say, that
which is brutalizing—predominates, is to transform a man,
little by little, by a sort of stupid transfiguration, into a wild
beast; sometimes into a ferocious beast.
Jean Valjean’s successive and obstinate attempts at es-
cape would alone suffice to prove this strange working of the
law upon the human soul. Jean Valjean would have renewed
these attempts, utterly useless and foolish as they were, as
often as the opportunity had presented itself, without re-
flecting for an instant on the result, nor on the experiences
which he had already gone through. He escaped impetu-
ously, like the wolf who finds his cage open. Instinct said
to him, ‘Flee!’ Reason would have said, ‘Remain!’ But in the
presence of so violent a temptation, reason vanished; noth-
ing remained but instinct. The beast alone acted. When he
was recaptured, the fresh severities inflicted on him only
served to render him still more wild.
One detail, which we must not omit, is that he possessed a
physical strength which was not approached by a single one
of the denizens of the galleys. At work, at paying out a cable
or winding up a capstan, Jean Valjean was worth four men.