UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 BROWSING ROOM
 
 i 
 I 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 I^onore tie Balzac
 
 J^onotfc trc Balzac 
 
 PARISIAN LIFE 
 
 VOLUME VII
 
 LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND COMPLETE COPIES 
 
 NO. 
 
 7 1 S
 
 ■/. .,!■ //.'/Soi< tf^fJ;
 
 A T HOME 
 
 She foinid the perfume-dealer in the centre of the 
 adjoining room, luith a yard-stick in his hand meas- 
 nring space, but having his India-green dressing- 
 gozun zvith chocolate-colored dots hanging so care- 
 lessly on him that the cold zvas making his legs red 
 li'ithoiit his feeling it, so engrossed was he. When 
 Cesar turned around to say to his wife : " Well, 
 Constance, what do you want T' his mien, like that 
 of a man lost in arithmetic, zuas so extremely ludic- 
 rous that Madame Birotteau burst out laughing.
 
 THE NOVELS 
 
 OF 
 
 HONORE DE BALZAC 
 
 NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME 
 COMPLETELY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH 
 
 HISTORY OF THE GRANDEUR AND DOWNFALL OF 
 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 BY FRANCIS T. FUREY 
 
 WITH FIVE ETCHINGS BY HENRI-JOSEPH DUBOUCHET, 
 AFTER PAINTINGS BY PIERRE VIDAL 
 
 IN ONE VOLUME 
 
 PRINTED ONLY FOR SUBSCRIBERS BY 
 
 GEORGE BARRIE & SON, PHILADELPHIA
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 1 896, BY G. B. & SON
 
 f9 
 
 8 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 a? 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE GRANDEUR AND DOWNFALL OF 
 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Dealer in Perfumes, 
 
 Deputy to the Mayor of the Second Arrondissement of Paris, 
 
 Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, etc. 
 
 189962
 
 TO 
 MONSIEUR ALPHOmE DE LAMARTl^^E 
 
 His Admirer 
 
 DE BALZAC
 
 CESAR IN HIS GLORY
 
 C^SAR IN HIS GLORY 
 
 * 
 
 Of winter nights there is respite from noise in the 
 Rue Saint-Honore but for an instant; kitchen-gar- 
 deners on their way to the market continue the din 
 just as it is left off by carriages returning from the- 
 atre or ball. While this hum in the great symphony 
 of the hubbub of Paris, that may be heard about 
 one o'clock in the morning, was going on, the wife 
 of Monsieur Cesar Birotteau, a dealer in perfumes 
 whose shop was near the Place Vendome, was sud- 
 denly startled from her slumbers into a sitting post- 
 ure by a terrible dream. The perfumer's wife had 
 seen herself double; she appeared in rags, with an 
 emaciated and wrinkled hand turning the knob of her 
 own shop door, and seemed to be at one and the 
 same time standing on the threshold and seated in her 
 arm-chair at her desk; she was asking alms of her- 
 self, she heard herself speaking at the door and in her 
 office. She aimed to clutch her husband and only 
 laid her hand on a place that was cold. So intensely 
 frightened did she then become that she could not 
 bend her neck, which seemed as if petrified; the walls 
 of her throat stuck together and voice failed her; 
 she was stuck fast in her sitting posture, with dilated 
 and staring eyes, sadly disheveled hair, ears filled 
 
 (7)
 
 8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 with strange noises, contracted but palpitating heart, 
 all at once, in short, perspiring and chilled, in the 
 middle of an alcove with both doors open. 
 
 Fear is a half morbid feeling which presses so 
 violently on the human organism that its faculties 
 are at once either excited to the highest degree of 
 their power or plunged into the lowest depths of dis- 
 organization. Physiologists have long wondered at 
 this phenomenon, which overthrows its systems and 
 upsets its conjectures; yet it is merely an upheaval 
 working from within, but, like all electrical acci- 
 dents, whimsical and freakish in its ways. Such 
 will be the popular explanation as soon as the learned 
 recognize what a great part electricity plays in human 
 thought. 
 
 Madame Birotteau then experienced some of those 
 slightly luminous sufferings produced by those ter- 
 rible discharges of the will when expanded or con- 
 centrated by an unknown mechanism. Thus, during 
 a very brief interval of time if we reckon it only by 
 the clock, but incommensurable by reason of its 
 rapid impressions, this poor woman had the pro- 
 digious power of evolving more ideas, of calling up 
 more memories than, in the ordinary condition of her 
 faculties, she would have conceived in a whole day. 
 The very painful story of this soliloquy, absurd, 
 inconsistent and meaningless, as it was, may be 
 summed up in a few words. 
 
 " There is no reason why Birotteau should have 
 left my bed! He has eaten so much veal that per- 
 haps he is indisposed? But if he were sick he would
 
 IN HIS GLORY 9 
 
 have awakened me. For the nineteen years that 
 we have slept together in this bed, in this same 
 house, never has it occurred to him to leave his place 
 without telling me, the poor simpleton! He has staid 
 out all night only when at the guard house. Has he 
 slept with me to-night? Oh, yes, good heavens, 
 how stupid I am!" 
 
 She turned her eyes on the bed, and saw her 
 husband's nightcap, which still preserved the almost 
 conical shape of his head. 
 
 "He is dead, then! Has he committed suicide! 
 Why should he?" she continued. "For the past 
 two years, since he has been mayor's deputy, he has 
 been — I don't know how. On my word as an honest 
 woman, isn't it a pity they put him in public office? 
 He has been prosperous in business, and has bought 
 me a shawl. Perhaps business is going on badly? 
 Bah! I would know it. Do we ever know what a 
 man has in his noddle? or a woman, either? That 
 is not an evil. But have we not sold five thousand 
 francs' worth to-day! Moreover, a deputy would 
 not take his own life, he is too well acquainted with 
 the law. Where is he, then?" 
 
 She could neither turn her neck nor reach out her 
 hand to pull the bell-cord that would have aroused a 
 cook, three clerks and a shop-boy. A prey to the 
 nightmare that continued in her waking state, she 
 was forgetting her daughter peacefully slumbering 
 in an adjoining room, the door of which opened 
 opposite to the foot of her bed. At last she ex- 
 claimed: "Birotteau!" and received no answer.
 
 lO CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 She thought she had called out the name, but she 
 had pronounced it only mentally. 
 
 " Could it be that he has a mistress? He is too 
 stupid," she continued, "and besides, he loves me 
 too much for that. Didn't he tell Madame Roguin 
 that he has never been unfaithful to me, even in 
 thought? He is honesty itself walking the earth, 
 that man is. If anyone merits heaven, isn't it he? 
 What sin can he accuse himself of to his confessor? 
 He tells him peccadilloes. Royalist though he is, 
 without knowing why, he, for example, makes 
 scarcely any show of his religion. The poor timid 
 creature, he goes to the eight o'clock Mass on the 
 sly, as if he were going to a bawdy house. He 
 fears God for God's sake: hell hardly ever costs him 
 a thought. How could he have a mistress? He 
 clings so closely to my skirts that he wearies me. 
 He loves me better than the apple of his eye, he 
 would become blind for my sake. During these 
 nineteen years he has never stormed at me. His 
 daughter he considers only next after me. But 
 Cesarine is in that room, — Cesarine! Cesarine! — 
 Birotteau has never had a thought that he has not 
 told me. He was fully justified in claiming, when 
 he came to see me at the Petit Matelot, that I would 
 know him only by living with him! Nay, more 
 than that! — How wonderful!" 
 
 She turned her head painfully and furtively 
 glanced across the room, then full of those pic- 
 turesque night effects that language despairs of 
 describing, and that seem to pertain exclusively to the
 
 IN HIS GLORY II 
 
 brush of artists who depict every-day life. Words 
 fail to describe the frightful zigzags formed by the 
 shadows cast, the fantastic appearances of the wind- 
 bulged curtains, the play of the flickering light 
 emitted by the night-lamp through folds of red calico, 
 the glare shot out from a curtain-holder with beam- 
 ing centre resembling the lens of a dark-lantern, the 
 apparition of a robed kneeling figure, all the caprices, 
 in fine, that frighten the imagination when it is capa- 
 ble only of feeling pain and intensifying it. Madame 
 Birotteau imagined she saw a strong light in the 
 room in front of her own, and all of a sudden she 
 thought of fire; but, her eye lighting on a red silk 
 handkerchief, which seemed to her to be a pool of 
 spilt blood, robbers monopolized her thoughts, espe- 
 cially as she was disposed to find traces of a struggle 
 in the way in which the furniture lay. Remember- 
 ing how much money was in the cash-box, a 
 generous fear dispelled the nightmare fever and 
 chill, she bounded quite aghast, in chemise, into the 
 middle of her room to save her husband, who, she 
 supposed, was in a life and death struggle with 
 assassins. 
 
 "Birotteau! Birotteau!" she at last exclaimed in 
 a tone of anguish. 
 
 She found the perfume-dealer in the centre of the 
 adjoining room, with a yard-stick in his hand 
 measuring space, but having his India-green dress- 
 ing-gown with chocolate-colored dots hanging so 
 carelessly on him that the cold was making his 
 legs red without his feeling it, so engrossed was
 
 12 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 he. When Cesar turned around to say to his wife: 
 "Well, Constance, what do you want?" his mien, 
 like that of a man lost in arithmetic, was so ex- 
 tremely ludicrous that Madame Birotteau burst out 
 laughing. 
 
 "Good Heavens, Cesar! what a simpleton you 
 look!" she said. "Why did you leave me alone 
 without telling me? I came near dying of fright, not 
 knowing what to think. But what are you doing 
 there, exposed in the draught as you are? You will 
 get your death of cold. Do you hear, Birotteau?" 
 
 "Yes, wife, here I am," replied the perfumer, as 
 he returned to their room. 
 
 "Come, then, and get warm, and tell me what 
 whim you have in your head," Madame Birotteau 
 continued as she removed the ashes from the fire, 
 and hurriedly made it up anew. " I am frozen. 
 What a fool I was to get out of bed in my chemise! 
 But I was really afraid that some one was assassin- 
 ating you." 
 
 The dealer put his candlestick on the mantel- 
 piece, fastened his dressing-gown around him, and 
 went mechanically to get a flannel petticoat for his 
 wife. 
 
 "Here, puss, put something on you, then," said 
 he. "Twenty-two by eighteen," he went on, 
 continuing his soliloquy, "we can have a superb 
 salon." 
 
 "What's that! Birotteau, you are, then, in a fair 
 way of losing your reason? Are you dreaming?" 
 
 "No, wife, 1 am calculating."
 
 IN HIS GLORY 13 
 
 "You should by all means wait at least till day- 
 light before indulging in your nonsense," she ex- 
 claimed as she fastened her petticoat under her 
 bodice before going to open the door of the room in 
 which her daughter was sleeping. 
 
 "Cesarine is asleep," said she, "she will not hear 
 us. Well, Birotteau, go on, then. What is the 
 matter with you?" 
 
 "We can give the ball." 
 
 "Give a ball! we? On my honor as an honest 
 woman, you are dreaming, my dear." 
 
 "lam not dreaming, my pretty honest wench. 
 Listen, we should always do as required by the 
 position in which we are placed. The government 
 has made me prominent, I belong to the Government; 
 it is our duty to study its motive and to favor its 
 intentions by developing them. The Due de Riche- 
 lieu has just brought the occupation of France to an 
 end. According to Monsieur de la Billardiere, the 
 office-holders representing the city of Paris ought to 
 take it upon themselves as a duty, each in the sphere 
 of his influence, to celebrate the liberation of the 
 territory. Let us give evidence of a real patriotism 
 which will shame that of the so-called Liberals, those 
 intriguing villains, eh? Think you that I do not 
 love my country? I want to show the Liberals, my 
 enemies, that to love the King is to love France!" 
 
 "You think you have enemies, then, my poor 
 Birotteau?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed, wife, we have enemies. And half 
 of our friends in the quartier are our enemies. They
 
 14 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 all say: Birotteau is in luck, for though Birotteau is 
 a nobody, yet see him made mayor's deputy; every- 
 thing succeeds with him. Well, they are going to 
 be neatly outwitted once more. Be the first to 
 learn that I am a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor; 
 the King signed the commission yesterday." 
 
 "Oh! then," said Madame Birotteau with con- 
 siderable emotion, "we must give the ball, sweet- 
 heart. But how have you so distinguished yourself 
 as to obtain the cross?" 
 
 "When Monsieur de la Billardi^re told me this 
 news yesterday," Birotteau continued with embar- 
 rassment, " I also asked myself, as you do, what my 
 claim was; but, on my return, I came to recognize 
 it and approve of the Government's course. In the 
 first place, I am a Royalist, I was wounded at Saint- 
 Roch in Vendemiaire; isn't it something to have 
 borne arms at that time for the good cause? Then, 
 as I have heard from merchants, I gave general 
 satisfaction as a member of the consular judiciary. 
 Lastly, I am deputy mayor, and the King bestows 
 four crosses on the municipal body of the city of 
 Paris. After having investigated as to the persons 
 who ought to be decorated from among the deputies, 
 the Prefect put me first on the list. Moreover, it 
 must be that the King knows of me; thanks to old 
 Ragon, I supply him with the only powder that he 
 deigns to use; we alone have the recipe for that 
 used by the late queen, poor, dear, august victim! 
 The mayor gave me very strong backing. What 
 else would you have me do! If the King gives me
 
 IN HIS GLORY 15 
 
 the cross without me asking him for it, it seems to 
 me that I cannot refuse without slighting him, no 
 matter how you looi< at it. Did 1 want to be deputy? 
 And so, wife, since we have the wind blowing our 
 way, as your uncle Pillerault says when he is in a 
 jolly mood, I have decided to have everything in our 
 house in accord with the high honor done us. if I 
 can be anything, I will risk becoming whatever it be 
 God's will to make me, sub-prefect, if such be my 
 luck. Wife, you make a great mistake if you think 
 that a citizen has paid his debt to his country by 
 having spent twenty years selling perfumery to 
 those who have come to get it. If the State claims 
 the aid of our ability, we owe it this, as we owe it 
 the tax on furniture, doors, windows, etc. Do you 
 wish, then, to be always in the counting-house ? You 
 have, thank God, been there quite long enough. The 
 ball will be our own festival. Farewell to retail, as 
 far as you are concerned. You understand. I will 
 burn our La Revie des Roses sign, I will erase from 
 our board CESAR BiROTTEAU, DEALER IN PERFUMES, 
 
 Successor to Ragon, and substitute Perfumery 
 merely, in large gold letters. In the entresol I will 
 put the office, the cash-box, and a pretty private 
 office for your own use. Out of the shop back-room 
 and the present dining-room and kitchen, I will make 
 my warehouse, I will rent the second floor of the 
 adjoining house, and will open a door in the wall. I 
 will turn the staircase around, so as to be able to go 
 on a level from one house to the other. We will 
 then have spacious apartments furnished in fine
 
 l6 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 style! Yes, and I will remodel your room, will pro- 
 vide a boudoir for you, and have a pretty room for 
 Cesarine. The cash-girl whom you will have, our 
 chief clerk and your chamber-maid — yes, madame, 
 you will have one! — will have their lodgings on the 
 third floor. On the fourth will be the kitchen, the 
 cook and the general utility boy. The fifth will be 
 our place of general storage for bottles, crystal and 
 porcelain. The operating-room for our work-girls in 
 the garret! No longer will the public see them 
 pasting labels, making bags, assorting flasks, and 
 corking vials. Good enough for the Rue Saint- 
 Denis; but, as for the Rue Saint-Honore, oh, fie! 
 bad form. Our warehouse must be finished like a 
 parlor. Tell me, are we the only perfumers who 
 have been honored? Are not vinegar dealers, mus- 
 tard venders, in command of the National Guard, 
 and are they not in some favor at the Castle? Let 
 us imitate them, let us extend our trade, and, at the 
 same time, let us force our way into higher society." 
 "Hold up, Birotteau; do you know what I have 
 been thinking while listening to you? Well, you 
 remind me of a man looking for noonday at two 
 o'clock. Remember the advice I gave you when 
 the question came up of making you mayor: your 
 peace in preference to all else! ' You are as fit to 
 be prominent,' I said to you, *as my arm is to make 
 a windmill fan. Greatness would prove your ruin.' 
 You wouldn't listen to me; now, here is that ruin at 
 hand. To play a part in politics, money is neces- 
 sary; have we got it? What? You would burn
 
 IN HIS GLORY \^ 
 
 your sign that cost us six liundred francs, and give 
 up La Reine des Roses, your real glory? Leave it to 
 others, then, to be ambitious. Isn't it true that he 
 who thrusts his hand into the fire feels the burning? 
 Politics is now aflame. We have fully a hundred 
 thousand francs in cash, invested outside of our 
 business, of our factory, and of our stock? If you 
 would enhance your fortune, do now as you did in 
 1793; the funds are selling for seventy -two francs, 
 buy them and you will have ten thousand francs 
 revenue, without this investment hampering our 
 business. Take advantage of this tack to get our 
 daughter married, sell our business and let us go to 
 your country. What! For fifteen years you have 
 been solely bent on buying Les Tresorieres, that 
 pretty little property near Chinon, where there are 
 ponds, meadows, woods, vineyards, farms, bringing 
 three thousand francs, the dwelling-house on which 
 pleases us both, which we can still have for sixty 
 thousand francs, and now the gentleman wishes to 
 become something under the Government? But 
 remember what we are, mere perfumers. Sixteen 
 years ago, before you had invented the Sultana 
 Double Paste and the Carminative Water, if any one 
 had come and said to you: 'You are going to have 
 enough money to buy Les Tresorieres, ' wouldn't you 
 have been overcome with joy? Well, you can pur- 
 chase that property, which you coveted so much 
 that you could speak of nothing else; now you talk 
 of expending on stupid whims money earned by the 
 sweat of our brow, I can say our, for I have always
 
 l8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 been constant in attendance at that desk at all times 
 as a poor dog in its kennel. Isn't it better to have a 
 foothold with your daughter after she shall have 
 become the wife of a Paris notary, and live eight 
 months of the year at Chinon, than to begin here 
 to put down five sous and draw six blanks, and out 
 of the six blanks make nothing? Wait for a rise in 
 the stock market; you will be able to settle eight 
 thousand francs a year on your daughter, and we 
 will have two thousand for ourselves, and the price 
 of our property will enable us to have Les Tresor- 
 ieres. There, in your own country, my dear little 
 pet, by taking our furniture with us, and it is worth 
 something, we can live in princely style, whilst here 
 at least a million would be needed to cut a figure." 
 ** That, wife, is just what I expected you would 
 say," said Cesar Birotteau. " I am not quite so 
 stupid — though you think me very stupid, yes, 
 you! — as not to have reasoned everything over. 
 Pay attention to what I say. Alexandre Crottat fits 
 us like a glove for a son-in-law, and he will have 
 Roguin's office; but do you think he will be satisfied 
 with a hundred thousand francs dowry — supposing 
 that we would settle all the spare cash we have on 
 our daughter, and that is my wish; I would prefer to 
 have only dry bread for the rest of my days, so 1 
 should see her happy as a queen, the wife, in fine, 
 of a Paris notary, as you say. Well, a hundred 
 thousand francs or even eight thousand francs in 
 annuities is nothing toward buying Roguin's prac- 
 tice. That little Xandrot, as we call him, thinks, as
 
 IN HIS GLORY 19 
 
 does everybody, that we are much richer than we 
 are. If his father, that big farmer who is as ava- 
 ricious as a snail, does not sell a hundred thousand 
 francs' worth of land, Xandrot will not be notary, 
 for the Roguin office is worth four or five hundred 
 thousand francs. If Crottat does not give half of 
 it in cash, how could he manage it? Cesarine ought 
 to have a dowry of two hundred thousand francs; 
 and I mean that we shall retire as respectable citizens 
 of Paris with fifteen thousand francs income. Well! 
 If I were to make it as clear as daylight to you, 
 wouldn't that shut your mouth?" 
 
 "Ah! if you own Peru — " 
 
 "Yes, I do, my wench. Yes," he said, putting 
 his arm around his wife's waist and patting her, 
 moved by a joy that completely lit up his features. 
 "I did not want to speak to you of this matter before 
 it was matured; but, faith, to-morrow, I will close 
 it, perhaps. Here it is: Roguin has proposed to me 
 a speculation so safe that he has entered into it 
 along with Ragon, your uncle Pillerault and two 
 other clients of his. We are going to purchase, in 
 the neighborhood of the Madeleine, land that, ac- 
 cording to Roguin's calculations, we will get for one 
 quarter the price that it must reach three years from 
 now, the time when, the leases having expired, it 
 will come our turn to do as we please with it. All 
 six of us have agreed on our respective shares in it. 
 I put up three hundred thousand francs, so as to 
 have a three-eighths interest. If any one of us needs 
 money, Roguin will furnish it on the mortgage of
 
 20 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 his share by way of mortgage. So as to hold the 
 pan-handle and know how the fish is frying, I want 
 to be nominal owner for the half that will be common 
 to Pillerault, honest Ragon and myself. Roguin, 
 using the name of a certain Monsieur Charles Cla- 
 paron, will be my co-owner, and he, as well as I, will 
 give a counter-deed to his partners. The title is ac- 
 quired by promise of sale under private seal, so as to 
 make us masters of all the land. Roguin will make 
 searches as to what contracts are to be realized, for he 
 is not sure that we can dispense with recording and 
 throw the burden of it on those to whom we will sell 
 in lots, but it would take me too long to explain this 
 point to you. The land once paid for, we will only 
 have to fold our arms, and in three years hence we 
 will be worth a million. Cesarine will be twenty, our 
 business will be sold, and we will then be, with God's 
 help, unostentatiously on the high road to greatness." 
 
 "Well, where do you think you will get your 
 three hundred thousand francs?" asked Madame 
 Birotteau. 
 
 "You understand nothing about business matters, 
 my darling pet. I will give the hundred thousand 
 francs that are at Roguin's, I will borrow forty 
 thousand francs on the buildings and grounds of my 
 factory in the Faubourg du Temple, and we have 
 twenty thousand francs on hand; in all, a hundred 
 and sixty thousand francs. There remains a hun- 
 dred and forty thousand more, for which I will make 
 out notes to the order of Monsieur Charles Claparon, 
 banker; and he will give their face value less the
 
 IN HIS GLORY 21 
 
 discount. There are our hundred thousand crowns 
 paid: he who is to pay at a stated tifne owes nothing. 
 When the notes fall due we will take them up with 
 our profits. If we cannot meet them when they 
 fall due, Roguin will advance me money at five per 
 cent secured by my interest in the land. But loans 
 will not be needed: I have discovered an essence to 
 make the hair grow, a Comagenous oil! Livingston 
 is setting up a hydraulic press for me down there 
 with which to manufacture my oil from hazel nuts 
 that, under this strong pressure, will at once yield 
 all their oil. In a year, according to my calculations, 
 1 shall have made a hundred thousand francs, at 
 least. I am thinking out a poster that will begin, 
 Down with wigs! the effect of which will be pro- 
 digious. And as for you, you seem to have taken 
 no notice of my loss of sleep! For three whole 
 months the success of Macassar Oil has kept me 
 awake. I mean to down Macassar!" 
 
 "These, then, are the fine plans with which your 
 noddle has been filled during the past two months, 
 and you didn't want to say a word to me about 
 them. I have just seen myself a beggar at my own 
 door, what a warning from Heaven! In a short time 
 we will have nothing but eyes to weep with. 
 Never will you do that, at least while I am alive, 
 understand, Cesar! Behind this are some tricks that 
 you do not observe, you are too honest and too 
 honorable to suspect dishonesty in others. Why do 
 they come to offer you millions? You will dispose 
 of all you are worth, you will go beyond your means,
 
 22 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 and if your oil does not take, if no money is to be 
 had, if the land does not realize its price, how will 
 you meet your notes? Is it with the shells of your 
 hazel nuts? To gain a higher place in society, you 
 no longer want your name displayed, you would 
 remove the la Reine des Roses sign, and you are 
 farthermore going to bow and scrape in placards and 
 prospectuses that will display Cesar Birotteau on 
 every deadwall and every board fence, at every 
 place where building is going on." 
 
 "Oh! you don't see into it. I will have a branch 
 shop under the name of Popinot, in some house in 
 the neighborhood of the Rue des Lombards, where I 
 will put little Anselm. Thus I will pay the debt of 
 gratitude to Monsieur and Madame Ragon, by 
 giving their nephew a start, and he will be put in 
 the way of making a fortune. These poor Ragon 
 folks seem to me to have been hard pressed for some 
 time past." 
 
 "Beware! Those folks want your money." 
 "What folks darling? Is it your uncle Pillerault, 
 who loves us as much as he could his own flesh and 
 blood and dines with us every Sunday? Is it that 
 good old Ragon, our predecessor, with his forty years 
 of probity, with whom we play boston? And last, 
 could it be Roguin, a Paris notary, a man fifty -seven 
 years old, who has served as notary for twenty -five? 
 A Paris notary, he would be the pick of them, were 
 not all honest men to be held in the same esteem. 
 Were it necessary, my partners would assist me! 
 Where, then, is the plot, my fair dame? Well, I
 
 IN" HIS GLORY 23 
 
 must tell you what I think of you! On my word as 
 an honest man, I have your character by heart. 
 You have always been as distrustful as a cat I 
 Whenever we have had a couple of sous we could 
 call our own on hand, you imagined every customer 
 was a thief. It is necessary to fall on one's knees to 
 entreat you to allow yourself to grow rich! Parisian 
 though you be, yet you have hardly any ambition! 
 Were it not for your everlasting fears, there would be 
 no man happier than I ! If I had listened to you I 
 would never have made either the Sultanas Paste or 
 the Carminative Water. Our shop has given us a 
 living, but these two discoveries and our soaps have 
 brought us the hundred and sixty thousand francs 
 that we now have clear! Without my genius, for 
 1 have great ability as a perfumer, we would be but 
 small retailers, we would have to take the Devil by 
 the tail to make both ends meet, and I would not have 
 been one of the prominent merchants running for 
 election as judge of the tribunal of commerce, I 
 would have been neither judge nor mayor's deputy. 
 Do you know what I would be? A shop-keeper 
 such as old man Ragon was, and I do not mean to 
 disparage him, for I respect shops, as some of the 
 best people of our set have come from them! After 
 having sold perfumery for forty years, we, like him, 
 would have about three thousand francs income; and, 
 as prices are now, cost being doubled, we would, 
 like them, have scarcely enough to live on. — From 
 day to day that old way we have been living weighs 
 ever more heavily upon my heart. I must see my
 
 24 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 way clear out of it, and I will get the cue through 
 Popinot, to-morrow! — If I had followed your advice, 
 you who delight in being uneasy and ask your- 
 self whether you will have to-morrow what you 
 possess to-day, I would have no credit, I would not 
 have the Cross of the Legion of Honor, and I would 
 not be on the way to becoming somebody in politics. 
 Yes, you may well shake your head, if our scheme 
 succeeds, I may become a Deputy for Paris. Ha! 
 my name is not Cesar for nothing, for with me 
 everything has succeeded. Nor is it imagination, for 
 every one I meet away from here acknowledges my 
 ability; but here, the only person whom I wish to 
 please so much, for whom I sweat blood and water 
 to make her happy, is precisely she who takes me 
 for a blockhead!" 
 
 These phrases, though interrupted by eloquent 
 pauses, and shot off like balls, as is done by all who 
 pose in an attitude of reproach, expressed an attach- 
 ment so deep, so sustained, that Madame Birotteau's 
 heart was touched; but, like all women, she used 
 the love that she inspired to win her case. 
 
 "Very well, Birotteau," she said, "if you love 
 me, let me then be happy in my own way. Neither 
 you nor I received much education; we do not know 
 how to talk, nor to doyour servant after the manner 
 of people of the world; how do you think we would 
 succeed in Government circles? I would be happy 
 at Les Tresori^res, indeed I would! I have always 
 loved animals and little birds, I could very well 
 spend my life in taking care of the chickens, in
 
 IN HIS GLORY 25 
 
 playing the farmer's wife. Let us sell our business, 
 marry Cesarine, and let you give up your Imogene. 
 We will come to spend the winters in Paris, with 
 our son-in-law; we will be happy. Nothing either 
 in politics or in trade will be able to change our 
 nature. Why should we wish to lord it over others? 
 Does not our present fortune suffice for us? When 
 you will be a millionaire, will you dine twice? Do 
 you want another wife than me? See my uncle 
 Pillerault! he is wisely satisfied with his little means, 
 and his life is spent in doing good works. Does 
 he need fine furniture, he? I am sure that you 
 have ordered the new furniture for me: I have 
 seen Braschon here, and it was not to buy per- 
 fumery." 
 
 "Well, yes, darling, the furniture is ordered, our 
 work is to be begun to-morrow and will be directed 
 by an architect recommended to me by Monsieur de 
 la Billardiere." 
 
 "O God," she exclaimed, "have pity on us!" 
 " But, sweet wench, you are not reasonable. Is 
 it at thirty-seven, fresh and pretty as you are, that 
 you could go and bury yourself at Chinon? I, thank 
 God, am only thirty-nine. Chance opens a fine 
 career for me, and I am entering upon it. If I con- 
 duct myself prudently, I can establish an honorable 
 house in the Paris middle class, as used to be done 
 formerly, found the Birotteaus, as there are Kellers, 
 Jules Desmarets, Roguins, Cochins, Guillaumes, 
 Lebas, Nucingens, Saillards, Popinots, Matifats, who 
 are making or have made a mark in their own
 
 26 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 fields. On, then! If that affair were not as safe as 
 gold bars — " 
 
 "Safe!" 
 
 "Yes, safe. I have been figuring it out for two 
 months past. Without seeming interested, 1 have 
 been picking up information about building, at the 
 city office, from architects and contractors. Mon- 
 sieur Grindot, the young architect who is going to 
 remodel our apartments, is extremely sorry he has 
 no money to invest in our speculation." 
 
 "There will be building to do; he is driving you 
 to it in order to squeeze you." 
 
 "Can one trap people like Pillerault, Charles 
 Claparon, and Roguin.? The profit is as sure as that 
 of the Sultana Paste, do you seel" 
 
 " But, my dear love, why, then, does Roguin 
 need to speculate, if he has his way paid and his 
 fortune made? I see him passing sometimes more 
 anxious-looking than a minister of State, with a 
 downcast look that 1 do not like: he has some secret 
 trouble. Within the last five years his figure has 
 become that of an old rake. Who tells you that he 
 will not take to his heels when he gets your money? 
 Such a thing is known to have happened. Do we 
 know very much about him? It is all very well for 
 him to have been our friend for the last fifteen 
 years, yet I would not put my hand in the fire for 
 him. Look out, he is tainted and does not live with 
 his wife, he may have mistresses to support who 
 are ruining him; I can think of no other reason for 
 his dejected mien. While making my toilet I look
 
 IN HIS GLORY 27 
 
 through the blinds, and I see him coming home on 
 foot, in the morning, returning whence? Nobody 
 knows. He gives me the impression of a man who has 
 an establishment in town who lives as he pleases, and 
 madame the same, is that the way for a notary to 
 live? If they have fifty thousand francs and spend 
 sixty, in twenty years one sees the end of one's 
 means, one finds one's self as destitute as little 
 foundlings; but as one is accustomed to shine, 
 one pitilessly robs one's friends: well-ordered charity 
 begins at home. He is intimate with that little 
 scamp, Du Tillet, our former clerk, and I do not 
 think well of this friendship. If he has not learned 
 how to judge Du Tillet, he is blind indeed; if he 
 knows him, why does he make so much of him? 
 You will tell me that his wife loves Du Tillet? Well, 
 I do not expect anything good from a man who has 
 no honor in regard to his wife. In fine, the present 
 owners of this land are dunces indeed to give for a 
 hundred sous what is worth a hundred francs. If 
 you met a child who did not know what a louis is 
 worth, wouldn't you tell him its value? This business 
 gives me the impression of being a theft, yes, to my 
 view, and I say it without intending to offend you." 
 " Lord, how funny women sometimes are, and 
 how they mix up all sorts of ideas! If Roguin 
 counted for nothing in the matter, you would say to 
 me, ' Beware, take care, Cesar, you are doing some- 
 thing that Roguin has no hand in; it isn't worth 
 anything.' On this occasion he is in it as a guar- 
 antee, and you tell me — "
 
 28 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " No, it is a Monsieur Ciaparon." 
 
 " But a notary cannot allow his name to be used 
 in a speculation." 
 
 " Why, then, does he do a thing that the law for- 
 bids him to do? What answer will you make me, 
 you who know only the law?" 
 
 "Let me continue, then. Roguin has entered 
 into it, and you tell me that the affair does not 
 amount to anything! Is it reasonable? You tell 
 me further: ' He is doing a thing that is against the 
 law.' But he will go into it openly, if necessary. 
 You tell me now: ' He is rich.' Cannot anyone tell 
 me as much? Would Ragon and Pillerault be wel- 
 come to tell me: ' Why are you doing this thing, 
 you who have as much money as a hog-dealer?' " 
 
 " Those in trade are not in the position of notaries," 
 objected Madame Birotteau. 
 
 "At any rate, my conscience is quite clear," said 
 Cesar, continuing. "Those who are selling are 
 compelled to sell; we are no more robbing them than 
 one robs those of whom he buys funds at seventy- 
 five. To-day we get the land at its present price; 
 two years hence it will be different, just as in the 
 case of the funds. Know, then, Constance-Barbe- 
 Josephine Pillerault, that you will never catch 
 Cesar Birotteau doing an act that is against the 
 strictest honesty, or against the law, or against con- 
 science, or against delicacy. A man established for 
 eighteen years to be suspected of dishonesty in his 
 own household!" 
 
 "Come, now, keep cool, Cesar! A woman who
 
 IN HIS GLORY 29 
 
 has lived with you ail this time knows you to the 
 very depths of your soul. You are master, after all. 
 It is you who have made this fortune, isn't it? It is 
 yours, you can spend it. Were we reduced to the 
 last extremity of misery, neither I nor your daughter 
 would ever reproach you even once. But listen: 
 When you invented your Sultana Paste and your 
 Carminative Water, what did you risk? Five or six 
 thousand francs. Now you stake all your fortune 
 on a single shuffle of the cards, you are not alone in 
 the game, you have associates who may prove 
 themselves sharper than you. Give your ball, 
 renovate your apartments, go to an expense of ten 
 thousand francs, that is useless, but it is not ruinous. 
 As regards your. Madeleine affair, I give it my formal 
 disapproval. You are a perfumer, be a perfumer, 
 and not a speculator in land. We have an instinct 
 that never deceives us, we women have! I have 
 warned you, now act according to your judgment. 
 You have been judge in the tribunal of commerce, 
 you know the laws, you have steered your bark 
 well, I will follow you, Cesar! But it will be with 
 trepidation until I see our fortune solidly established 
 and Cesarine well married. God grant that my 
 dream be not a prophecy!" 
 
 This yielding disconcerted Birotteau, who used 
 the innocent dodge to which he was wont to have 
 recourse on such occasions. 
 
 "Listen, Constance, I have not yet given my 
 word, but it is as good as given." 
 
 "Oh! Cesar, you have said all there is to say
 
 30 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 about it, do not speak of it any more. Honor 
 goes before fortune. Come, go to bed, my dear, 
 we have no more wood. Moreover, we will be 
 better fixed in bed for chatting, if that amuses you 
 — Oh! that vile dream! My God! To see one's 
 self! but it is frightful. — Cesarine and I are going 
 in earnest to make novenas for the success of your 
 land scheme." 
 
 "Certainly God's assistance will do no harm," 
 gravely remarked Birotteau; " but, wife, hazel-nut 
 essence is also a power! I have made this discovery, 
 as formerly that of the Sultana Double Paste, by 
 chance: on the former occasion on opening a book, 
 this time while looking at the engraving of Hero and 
 Leander. For a woman to pour oil on her lover's 
 head — is it pretty.? The safest speculations are 
 those based on vanity, on self-love, the desire to 
 make a good appearance. Those are feelings that 
 never die." 
 
 "Alas! I see it clearly." 
 
 "At a certain age men would try a hundred things 
 to have hair when they have none. For some time 
 past hair-dressers have told me that they are selling 
 not only Macassar, but all the drugs that are good 
 for dyeing the hair, or that are supposed to make it 
 grow. Since peace was restored men have been 
 associating a great deal more with women, and the 
 latter do not like the bald-headed, hey! hey! mine 
 own! The demand for that article is explained, 
 then, by the political situation. A compound that 
 would keep the hair in a good healthy condition
 
 IN HIS GLORY 31 
 
 would sell like bread, especially if this essence were 
 undoubtedly approved by the Academy of Science. 
 My good Monsieur Vauquelin will perhaps help me 
 out once more. I will go to-morrow and submit my 
 idea to him, offering him the engraving which 1 have 
 succeeded in finding after a two years' search in 
 Germany. He is giving attention just now to the 
 analysis of the hair. Chiffreville, his partner in the 
 manufacture of chemical products, has told me so. 
 If my discovery agrees with his researches, my 
 essence would be bought by both sexes. My idea, 
 I repeat, is a fortune. My God! 1 do not sleep on 
 account of it. Hh! fortunately little Popinot has the 
 finest head of hair in the world. With a shop-girl 
 who would have long hair falling to the ground and 
 who would say, if the thing is possible without 
 offending God or one's neighbor, that the Comagenoiis 
 Oil — for it will be decidedly an oil — has had some- 
 thing to do with it, the gray-heads would pounce 
 upon it as does poverty on the world. Tell me, 
 then, my little woman, what of your ball? I am not 
 up to mischief, but I would like to meet that funny 
 little Du Tillet, who does the grand with his for- 
 tune, and who always shuns me at the Bourse. He 
 knows that I am acquainted with one of his character- 
 istics that is not a thing to boast of. Perhaps 1 have 
 been too lenient with him. Is not it odd, wife, that 
 one is always punished for his good deeds, here 
 below, understand! I have acted as a father toward 
 him, you do not know all that I have done for him." 
 "You make my flesh creep, merely speaking of
 
 32 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 him. If you had known all that he had wanted to 
 do to you, you wouldn't have kept quiet regarding 
 the theft of the three thousand francs, for I have 
 suspected how the affair was settled. If you had 
 brought him into the police court, perhaps you would 
 have done a service to quite a number of people." 
 
 "What advantage, then, did he mean to take of 
 me?" 
 
 "Nothing. If you were in a mood to listen to 
 me this evening, I would give you good advice, Bi- 
 rotteau, and that would be to steer clear of your 
 Du Tillet." 
 
 "Wouldn't people think it strange to see my house 
 closed against a clerk for whom 1 went security for 
 the first twenty thousand francs with which he set 
 up in business? Come, let us return good for good. 
 Besides, perhaps Du Tillet has mended his ways." 
 
 " Everything will have to be put topsy-turvy 
 here!" 
 
 "Why topsy-turvy? On the contrary, every- 
 thing will be as orderly as a music sheet. You 
 have, then, already, forgotten what I have just told 
 you about the stairway and my renting part of the 
 adjoining house, a matter that 1 have arranged with 
 the umbrella dealer, Cayron? We are to meet to- 
 morrow at Monsieur Molineux, his landlord's, for 
 to-morrow I have as much to attend to as a min- 
 ister.—" 
 
 "You have turned my head with your plans," 
 said Constance to him, " I am mixing myself up in 
 them. Moreover, Birotteau, I am sleepy."
 
 IN HIS GLORY 33 
 
 "Good-day," her husband replied. "But listen: 
 I bid you good-day because it is morning, sweet. 
 Ah! she is gone, that dear child! Go, you will be 
 very rich, or my name should not be Cesar." 
 
 A few moments later Constance and Cesar were 
 snoring peacefully.
 
 * 
 
 A rapid glance at the previous life of this house- 
 hold will confirm the impression probably made by 
 the amicable discussion between the two chief actors 
 in this Scene. In depicting the life and character of 
 these retail dealers, this sketch will explain, more- 
 over, by what singular chances Cesar Birotteau 
 came to be mayor's deputy as well as perfumer, 
 former officer of the National Guard and Knight of 
 the Legion of Honor. In throwing light on his inner- 
 most character and the salient points of his pros- 
 perity, we may understand how the commercial 
 accidents that are surmounted by strong tempera- 
 ments become irreparable catastrophes to minds 
 of small calibre. Events are never absolute, their 
 results depend entirely on the individual: misfortune 
 is a stepping-stone to genius, a cleansing to the 
 Christian, a treasure to the shrewd man, an abyss 
 to the weak. 
 
 A gardener in the neighborhood of Chinon, whose 
 name was Jacques Birotteau, married the chamber- 
 maid of a lady whose vines he was accustomed to 
 dress; he had three boys, his wife died in giving 
 birth to the last, and the poor man did not long sur- 
 vive her. The mistress had a liking for her cham- 
 ber-maid: along with her own sons she brought up 
 the eldest of her gardener's children, whose name 
 was Francois, and sent him to a seminary. Ordained 
 to the priesthood, Francois Birotteau concealed 
 
 (35)
 
 36 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 himself during the Revolution and led the wandering 
 life of the unsworn priests, who were tracked like 
 wild beasts, and guillotined on the slightest pretext. 
 At the time when this story begins he was a curate 
 at the Tours cathedral, and had left this city only 
 once to visit his brother Cesar. The turmoil of 
 Paris so dazed the good priest that he dared not 
 leave his room; he called the cabs half-hackneys, and 
 was astonished at everything. After a week's so- 
 journ he returned to Tours, promising never to return 
 to the capital. 
 
 The vine-dresser's second son, Jean Birotteau, 
 having been drafted, at once rose to the rank of 
 captain during the early wars of the Revolution. 
 At the battle of Trebia, Macdonald asked for men 
 not afraid to attack a battery; Captain Jean Birot- 
 teau advanced with his company, and was killed. 
 The fates of the Birotteaus would no doubt have it 
 that they should be crushed by men or by circum- 
 stances wherever they set their feet. 
 
 The last child is the hero of this Scene. When 
 fourteen years old Cesar knew how to read, write 
 and figure. He left the country, and came to Paris 
 on foot to seek his fortune with a louis in his pocket. 
 The recommendation of a Tours apothecary got him 
 a position, as shop-boy, with Monsieur and Madame 
 Ragon, dealers in perfumes. Cesar then owned a 
 pair of iron-tipped shoes, a pair of breeches and 
 blue stockings, a flowered vest, a peasant's coat, 
 three coarse shirts of good linen and his traveling 
 cudgel. His hair was cut after the fashion of choir
 
 IN HIS GLORY 37 
 
 boys, he had the solid courage of the Tourainer; if 
 he sometimes allowed himself to fall into the idle 
 habits in vogue in the country, he compensated for 
 it by the desire of making his fortune; if he was 
 wanting in wit and education, he was possessed of 
 an instinctive sense of right and of the delicate feel- 
 ings with which he regarded his mother, a creature 
 who, as the Tourainers express it, had a heart of 
 gold. Cesar had his meals, six francs wages a 
 month, and slept on a trundle-bed in the garret, 
 next to the cook; the clerks, who taught him how 
 to put up packages and run errands, to sweep the 
 shop and the sidewalk, poked fun at him while 
 training him to the work, as is the manner in shops, 
 where pleasantry enters into instruction as the chief 
 element; Monsieur and Madame Ragon spoke to him 
 as they would to a dog. No one cared whether the 
 apprentice was tired or not, though in the evening 
 his feet worn out by the pavement made him suffer 
 terribly and his shoulders were sore. This rude 
 application of every one for himself, the gospel of all 
 capitals, made Cesar feel life in Paris very severe. 
 In the evening he wept while thinking of Touraine, 
 where the peasant works as he pleases, where the 
 mason lays a stone while he ought to lay twelve, 
 where idleness is discreetly combined with labor; 
 but he fell asleep before he had time to think of 
 fleeing, for he had a routine of work for the morning 
 and was obedient to his duty with the instinct of a 
 watch-dog. If perhaps he complained, the head 
 clerk smiled with a jovial air. 
 
 1899G2
 
 38 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Ah! my boy," he said, " everything is not rosy 
 at la Reine des Roses, and larks do not fall here 
 already toasted; you must first run after them, then 
 catch them, and finally have the wherewithal to 
 season them." 
 
 The cook, a stout Picardy woman, took the best 
 morsels for herself, and spoke to Cesar only to com- 
 plain of Monsieur or of Madame Ragon, who gave 
 her no chance to steal anything. Towards the end 
 of the first month this girl, obliged to take care of 
 the house one Sunday, struck up a conversation 
 with Cesar. Ursule with the dirt rubbed off seemed 
 charming to the poor general utility boy, who, unless 
 chance saved him, was going to be wrecked on the 
 first sunken rock in his career. Like all beings 
 devoid of protection, he fell in love with the first 
 woman who cast an amiable look upon him. 
 The cook took Cesar under her shield, and secret 
 love scenes followed, about which the clerks teased 
 him pitilessly. Two years later the cook very 
 fortunately gave up Cesar for a young deserter 
 from her own country who was in hiding at Paris, 
 a Picard of twenty, rich to the extent of owning a 
 few acres of land, who let Ursule marry him. 
 
 During these two years the cook had fed her 
 little Cesar well, had explained to him several 
 mysteries of Parisian life by making him examine it 
 from below, and from jealousy had inculcated upon 
 him a profound dread of the places of bad repute, the 
 dangers of which did not seem unknown to her. 
 In 1792, the feet of Cesar betrayed had become
 
 IN HIS GLORY 39 
 
 accustomed to the pavement, his shoulders to the 
 boxes, and his mind to what he called THE HUMBUG 
 of Paris. And so, when Ursule jilted him he was 
 soon consoled, for she did not come up to any of his 
 instinctive sentimental ideas. Lascivious and coarse, 
 sly-minded and light-fingered, an egoist and a 
 tippler, she abused Birotteau's candor without hold- 
 ing out any fair prospect to him. Sometimes the poor 
 boy sadly saw himself bound by the knots that press 
 hardest on unwary hearts to a creature with whom 
 he had no sympathy in common. When he became 
 master of his own heart he had grown considerably 
 and had reached the age of sixteen. His mind, 
 developed by Ursule and the pleasantries of the 
 clerks, led him to study the business in a manner in 
 which intelligence was concealed behind an air of 
 simplicity: he watched the customers, asked, at idle 
 moments, explanations about the various articles in 
 stock, remembered the differences between them 
 and where they were located; one fine day he knew 
 all the goods, their prices and marks better than the 
 new-comers knew them; from that time on Monsieur 
 and Madame Ragon were accustomed to make use of 
 him. 
 
 The day on which the terrible requisition of the 
 Year II. made a clean sweep at citizen Ragon's, 
 Cesar Birotteau, now promoted to the position of 
 second clerk, took advantage of the circumstances to 
 obtain a salary of fifty francs a month, and sat down 
 at the Ragons' table with a feeling of ineffable 
 joy. The second clerk at la Reine des Roses,
 
 40 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 who had already saved six hundred francs, had a 
 room in which he could conveniently lock up, in 
 articles of furniture he had long coveted, the garments 
 that he had accumulated. On the Revolution holi- 
 days — decadi, every tenth day, — dressed like the 
 young men of the time, submitting to the dictates of 
 fashion, in affecting brutal manners, this mild and 
 modest peasant assumed a mien that made him at 
 least their equal, and he thus removed the barriers 
 that in other times the fact of being a servant had 
 set up between the middle class and him. Towards 
 the end of this year his probity gave him charge of 
 the cash. The imposing citizeness Ragon looked 
 after the clerk's linen, and the two dealers grew 
 intimate with him. 
 
 In Vendemiaire, 1794, Cesar, who had a hundred 
 golden louis, exchanged them for six thousand francs 
 in assignats, bought funds at thirty francs, paid for 
 them the day before the scale of depreciation became 
 current at the Bourse, and held on to his investment 
 with unspeakable happiness. From that day he 
 followed the fluctuation of the money market and the 
 course of public affairs with secret anxieties that 
 made his heart beat at the record of the reverses or 
 successes which marked that period of our history. 
 Monsieur Ragon, the former perfumer to Her Majesty 
 Queen Marie-Antoinette, in those critical times con- 
 fided to Cesar Birotteau his attachment to the fallen 
 tyrants. This confidence was one of the prime inci- 
 dents in Cesar's life. The evening chats, when the 
 shop was closed, the street quiet and the day's cash
 
 IN HIS GLORY 4I 
 
 account settled up, made a fanatic of the Tourainer, 
 who, in becoming a Royalist, only obeyed his innate 
 feelings. The recital of Louis XVI. 's noble deeds, 
 the anecdotes with which the husband and wife 
 extolled the queen's merits stimulated Cesar's im- 
 agination. The terrible fate of those two crowned 
 heads, cut off only a few steps away from the shop, 
 made his impressionable heart revolt and inspired 
 him with hatred for a system of government that 
 thought nothing of the shedding of innocent blood. 
 Commercial interest made him see the ruin of trade 
 in the forcing-up of prices and in the storms of poli- 
 tics, always hostile to business. True to his calling 
 as a perfumer, he moreover hated a revolution that 
 would make a Titus of everybody and outlawed 
 powder. The tranquillity assured by absolute power 
 being alone able to give life and money, he became 
 fanatical in favor of royalty. When Monsieur Ragon 
 saw him well disposed, he made him first clerk and 
 initiated him into the secrets of the establishment of 
 hi Reine des Roses, some of whose customers were 
 the most active, the most devoted emissaries of the 
 Bourbons, and through which was carried on the 
 correspondence of the West with Paris. Impelled by 
 the warmth of youth, electrified by his relations 
 with the Georges, the La Billardieres, the Montau- 
 rans, the Bauvans, the Longuys, the Mandas, the 
 Berniers, the Du Guenics and the Fontaines, Cesar 
 rushed into the conspiracy which the Royalists and 
 the Terrorists combined directed, on the thirteenth 
 Vendemiaire, against the expiring Convention.
 
 42 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Cesar had the honor of fighting against Napoleon 
 on the steps of Saint-Roch, and was wounded early 
 in the fray. Everybody knows the outcome of this 
 effort. If Barras's aide-de-camp emerged from his 
 obscurity, Birotteau was saved by his. Some 
 friends carried the warlike first clerk to the la Reine 
 des Roses, where he remained concealed in the 
 garret, nursed by Madame Ragon, and happily for- 
 gotten. Cesar Birotteau had but an outburst of 
 military courage. During the month that it took 
 him to get well he made solid reflections on the 
 ridiculous alliance of politics and perfumery. If he 
 remained a Royalist, he resolved to be simply and 
 purely a Royalist perfumer, without ever again 
 compromising himself, and gave himself up body 
 and soul to his business. 
 
 On the eighteenth Brumaire, Monsieur and Madame 
 Ragon, despairing of the Royalist cause, decided to 
 give up the perfumery business, to live as good 
 middle class citizens, without mixing any more in 
 politics. In order to get their price for their business, 
 they must find a man who is more honest than am- 
 bitious, who has a larger supply of common sense 
 than capacity; Ragon then mentioned the matter to 
 his chief clerk. Birotteau, twenty years old and 
 possessing a thousand francs of income from the 
 public funds, hesitated. His ambition consisted in 
 living near Chinon when he became possessed of an 
 income of fifteen hundred francs, and when the First 
 Consul would have consolidated the public debt by 
 consolidating himself in the Tuileries. Why risk his
 
 IN HIS GLORY 43 
 
 honest and simple independence in the chances of 
 trade? he said to himself. He had never dreamt of 
 acquiring so large a fortune, due to those chances 
 which one takes only in youth; he thought then of 
 marrying- in Touraine a woman as rich as himself, 
 so that he could buy and cultivate Les Tresori^res, 
 a small estate that he had coveted since he had 
 attained the age of reason, to which he dreamed of 
 adding, as soon as he had acquired a thousand 
 crowns income, where he would lead a happily 
 retired life. He was going to refuse when love 
 suddenly changed his resolve by increasing tenfold 
 the figure of his ambition. 
 
 Since Ursule's treachery Cesar had remained 
 wise, as much from fear of the danger that one runs 
 at Paris in love affairs as in consequence of his 
 labors. When the passions have nothing to feed on, 
 they change as occasion requires; marriage then 
 becomes, for people of the middle class, a fixed idea, 
 for they have only this way of making conquest of a 
 woman and taking her to themselves. Cesar Birot- 
 teau was in that mood. Everything devolved on 
 the head clerk in the shop of la Reine des Roses: he 
 hadn't a moment to give to pleasure. In such a 
 mode of life the wants are still more imperious: and 
 so the meeting with a pretty girl, of whom a libertine 
 clerk would hardly have dreamt, was to produce the 
 greatest effect on the wise Cesar. One glorious 
 day in June, entering the He Saint-Louis by the 
 Pont Marie, he saw a young girl standing in the door- 
 way of a shop situated at the angle of the Quai
 
 44 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 d'Anjou. Constance Pillerault was the head sales- 
 woman in a novelty shop called le Petit Matelot, the 
 first of the shops to adopt in Paris more or less 
 painted signs, waving flags, full displays of shawls 
 on swinging frames, cravats piled up like card houses, 
 and a thousand other attractions of trade, one price 
 only, wrappers, labels, illusions and optical effects 
 carried to such a degree of perfection that the shop- 
 fronts have become trade poems. The low price of 
 all the articles called novelties that were to be 
 found at le Petit Matelot gave it a vogue unheard of in 
 the part of Paris least favorable to both fashion and 
 trade. This head girl was then quoted for her 
 beauty, as were afterwards the Pretty Lemonade- 
 Girl of the Mille Colonnes cafe and several other 
 poor creatures who have made more young and old 
 men look through the windows of the modistes, 
 lemonade and other shops than there are paving 
 stones in the streets of Paris. The head clerk of la 
 Peine des Poses living between Saint-Roch and the 
 Rue la Sourdiere, his attention given exclusively to 
 perfumery, had no suspicion of existence of the 
 le Petit Matelot ; for the minor trades of Paris are 
 somewhat strangers to one another. Cesar was so 
 intensely smitten by Constance's beauty that he 
 excitedly entered le Petit Matelot to purchase half a 
 dozen linen shirts, on the price of which he kept up 
 a long debate, causing several rolls of linen to be 
 unfolded, just as would an English woman in the 
 humor of shopping. The head sales-girl took pains 
 to study Cesar, and came to the conclusion, by
 
 IN HIS GLORY 45 
 
 certain symptoms known to all women, that he had 
 come in far more on account of the saleswoman 
 than for the merchandise. He dictated his name 
 and address to the girl, who became quite indifferent 
 to the customer's admiration once he had made his 
 purchase. The poor clerk had had but little trouble 
 in gaining Ursule's good graces, he had remained 
 as silly as a sheep; love making him still more so, 
 he dared not say a word, and was moreover too 
 badly smitten to remark the indifference that fol- 
 lowed the smile of this saleswoman siren. 
 
 For a week he went every evening to show him- 
 self in front of le Petit Mateloty trying to get a look, 
 as a dog seeks a bone at a kitchen door, regardless 
 of the raillery in which the clerks and the girls 
 indulged, humbly making way for purchasers or 
 passers-by, who were giving their attention to the 
 little incidents of the shop. Some days afterwards 
 he again entered the paradise in which his angel was, 
 less to buy handkerchiefs there than to make a 
 bright idea known to her. 
 
 "If you need any perfumery. Mademoiselle, I 
 would be very glad to supply you with it," he said 
 as he paid her. 
 
 Constance Pillerault was in daily receipt of brill- 
 iant proposals in which there was no question of 
 marriage; and, though her heart was as pure as her 
 brow was white, it was only after six months' 
 marching and counter-marching, by which Cesar 
 made known his indefatigable love, that she con- 
 descended to receive Cesar's attentions, without.
 
 46 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 however, committing herself: a prudence com- 
 manded by the infinite number of her suitors, 
 wholesale wine-merchants, rich lemonade-dealers 
 and others, who cast sheep's eyes at her. The 
 lover had called in to his aid Constance's guardian, 
 Monsieur Claude-Joseph Pillerault, then a dealer in 
 iron and copper ware on the Quai de la Ferraille, 
 whom he had succeeded in discovering by having 
 recourse to the underhanded espionage which dis- 
 tinguishes true love. The rapidity with which this 
 tale marches, obliges us to pass in silence over the 
 joys of Parisian love made innocently, and to say 
 nothing of the prodigalities peculiar to clerks: melons 
 gathered in their prime, fine dinners at Venua's fol- 
 lowed by the theatre, country parties in a Sunday 
 hack. Without being a handsome youth, Cesar 
 had nothing in his person that could raise an objec- 
 tion to his being loved. Paris life and his confine- 
 ment in a dark shop had obliterated the intensity of 
 his peasant tint. His abundant black hair, his neck 
 like that of a Normandy horse, his stout limbs, his 
 simple and honest bearing, all contributed to give 
 a favorable impression of him. Uncle Pillerault, 
 charged with looking after the welfare of his brother's 
 daughter, had made investigations: he gave his sanc- 
 tion to the Tourainer's intentions. In 1800, in the 
 beautiful month of May, Mademoiselle Pillerault 
 consented to marry Cesar Birotteau, who fainted 
 with joy at the very moment when, under a linden, 
 at Sceaux, Constance-Barbe-Josephine accepted him 
 as her husband.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 47 
 
 "My little one," says Monsieur Pillerault, "you 
 are getting a good husband. He has a warm heart 
 and is the soul of honor: he is pliable as the willow 
 and wise as a child Jesus; in fine, he is a king 
 among men." 
 
 Constance freely gave up the brilliant future of 
 which, like all shop-girls, she had sometimes 
 dreamed: she would be an honest wife, a good 
 mother of a family, and took life according to the 
 religious programme of the middle class. This part, 
 moreover, agreed better with her ideas than the 
 dangerous vanities that seduce so many young 
 Parisian imaginations. Of a limited intelligence, 
 Constance belonged to the type of the lower middle 
 class girl, whose work does not go well without a 
 little temper, which begins by refusing what it desires 
 and is sorry when taken at its word, whose restless 
 activity is directed toward the kitchen and the cash, 
 toward the most serious affairs and the minutest 
 darns of the linen; which loves when grumbling, 
 conceives only the simplest ideas, the small coin of 
 the mind, reasons on everything, is afraid of every- 
 thing, calculates everything and is always thinking 
 of the future. Her cold but pure loveliness, her 
 attractive bearing, her coolness, kept Birotteau from 
 thinking of her defects, for which, moreover, she 
 compensated by that delicate probity natural to 
 women, by an extreme love for order, by excessive 
 fondness for work and by ability in making sales. 
 Constance was then eighteen years old and was 
 worth eleven thousand francs. Cesar, in whom
 
 48 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 love inspired the most excessive ambition, bought 
 the business of la Reine des Roses and removed it 
 close to the Place Vendome, in a fine house. Only 
 twenty-one, married to a pretty woman whom he 
 adored, the owner of an establishment for which he 
 had paid three-quarters of the price, he could but 
 see the future rosy, especially when he looked at 
 the progress he had made since starting out. Roguin, 
 notary to the Ragons, who drew up the marriage 
 contract, gave sound advice to the new perfume 
 dealer by keeping him from completing the payment 
 for the property with his wife's dowry. 
 
 " Keep some money, my boy, for making some 
 good investments," he said to him. 
 
 Birotteau regarded the notary with admiration, 
 got into the habit of consulting him, and made him 
 one of his friends. Like Ragon and Pillerault, he 
 had such faith in the office of notary that he then 
 gave himself up to Roguin without allowing himself 
 to entertain a suspicion. Thanks to this advice, 
 Cesar, having Constance's eleven thousand francs 
 to begin with, would not then have exchanged his 
 possessions for those of the First Consul, grand as 
 Napoleon's possessions might seem to be. At first 
 Birotteau kept only a cook, he lived in the entresol 
 over his shop, a paltry sort of lodging rather nicely 
 fitted up by an upholsterer, and in which the newly- 
 married couple spent an everlasting honeymoon. 
 Madame Cesar looked marvelously well in her shop. 
 Her famous beauty had a powerful influence over 
 the sales, and the only topic of discussion among
 
 IN HIS GLORY 49 
 
 the elegant folk of the Empire was the pretty Mad- 
 ame Birotteau. If Cesar was accused of royalist 
 leanings everybody did justice to his honesty; if 
 some neighboring dealers envied his good fortune, 
 he was acknowledged to be worthy of it. The gun- 
 shot wound that he had received on the steps of 
 Saint-Roch gained for him the reputation of one who 
 had mixed himself up in the secrets of politics and 
 that of a brave man, though he had no military 
 courage in his heart and no political idea in his 
 head. On these qualifications the good people of 
 the arrondissement named him for captain of the 
 National Guard; but the appointment was cancelled 
 by Napoleon, who, according to Birotteau, had a 
 grudge against him on account of their meeting in 
 Vendemiaire. Cesar had then cheaply acquired a 
 varnish of persecution that made him interesting in 
 the eyes of opponents and led to his acquiring a 
 certain importance. 
 
 Such was the condition of that household, ever 
 happy by reason of its sentiments, disturbed only 
 by the anxieties of trade. 
 
 During the first year Cesar Birotteau initiated his 
 wife into the ways of selling and of retailing per- 
 fumery, a trade to which she took most admirably; 
 she seemed to have been created and brought into 
 the world to catch customers. This year ended, the 
 inventory surprised the ambitious perfumer: all ex- 
 penses defrayed, in less than twenty years he would 
 have saved the modest capital of a hundred thousand 
 francs, which was the figure at which he had placed 
 
 4
 
 50 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 his happiness. He then resolved to get rich more 
 rapidly and first thought of adding the manufactur- 
 ing to the retail business. Against his wife's advice 
 he rented a building and ground in the Faubourg du 
 Temple, and had painted on it in large letters: 
 Cesar Birotteau's Factory. He enticed from 
 Grasse a workman with whom he began on half 
 shares in a small way the manufacture of soaps, 
 essences and eau-de-Cologne. His partnership with 
 this workman lasted only six months and ended in 
 losses which he bore alone. Not discouraged, Bi- 
 rotteau wanted to obtain a result at any price, if only 
 not to be grumbled at by his wife, to whom he ac- 
 knowledged later that at that time of despondency 
 his head boiled like a pot, and that on several occa- 
 sions, were it not for his religious feelings, he would 
 have jumped into the Seine. 
 
 Distracted by some fruitless experiments, he 
 strolled one day along the boulevards on his way 
 home to dinner, for the Parisian stroller is as often 
 a man in despair as an idler. Among some six-cent 
 books lying in a hamper on the ground his eyes were 
 attracted by this title yellowed by dust: Abdeker, or 
 the Art of Preserving Beauty. He picked up this 
 pretended Arabic book, a sort of romance written 
 by a physician of the preceding century, and fell on 
 a page on which there was question of perfumes. 
 Leaning against a tree in the boulevard to turn over 
 the leaves of the book, he read a note in which the 
 author explained the nature of the derm and the 
 epiderm, and showed that such a paste or such a
 
 IN HIS GLORY 51 
 
 soap would often produce an effect contrary to that 
 expected of it, if the paste and the soap gave tone 
 to the skin that wanted to be relaxed, or relaxed the 
 skin that required a tonic. Birotteau bought this 
 book, in which he saw a fortune. However, far 
 from having confidence in his lights, he went to a 
 famous chemist, Vauquelin, of whom he artlessly 
 asked how to compound a double cosmetic that would 
 produce effects suitable to the different natures of 
 the human epiderm. True scholars, those men so 
 genuinely great, in the sense that they never obtain 
 during life the renown by which their vast unknown 
 labors should be paid, are nearly all available and 
 smile at those poor in mental resources. Vauquelin 
 accordingly protected the perfumer, allowed himself 
 to be called the inventor of a paste for whitening 
 the hands and told him the ingredients. Birotteau 
 called this cosmetic the Sultana Double Paste. In 
 order to complete the work, he applied the process 
 of the paste for the hands to a water for the com- 
 plexion which he called Carminative Water. In his 
 venture he imitated the custom of le Petit Matelot, 
 he was the first among perfumers to use that wealth 
 of placards, advertisements and other means of 
 publication which people, perhaps unjustly, call 
 charlatanism. 
 
 The Sttltajta Paste and the Carminative Water 
 were announced throughout the polite society and 
 commercial world by colored placards, at the head of 
 which were these words : Approved by the Institute ! 
 This label used, for the first time, had a magical
 
 52 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 effect. Not only France, but the Continent, was 
 decked with yellow, red and blue placards, by the 
 sovereign of la Reine des Roses, who kept, supplied 
 and manufactured, at moderate prices, all that was 
 in his line. At a time when people spoke only of the 
 Orient, to call any cosmetic whatever by the name 
 of Sultana Paste, seeing the magic effect of these 
 words in a country where every man aims to be a 
 sultan as every woman a sultana, was an inspiration 
 that might come to any ordinary man as well as to a 
 man of ability; but, as the public always judges by 
 results, Birotteau passed so much the more for a 
 superior being, commercially speaking, as he him- 
 self drew up a prospectus, the ridiculous phraseology 
 of which was an element of success: in France one 
 laughs only at things and men that one is concerned 
 with, and no one bothers about what does not suc- 
 ceed. Though Birotteau did not act his stupidity, he 
 was credited with the ability of knowing how to play 
 the dunce on purpose. A copy of this prospectus 
 has been found after considerable trouble, in the 
 house of Popinot and Company, druggists. Rue des 
 Lombards. This curious document is of a piece with 
 those that, in a higher circle, historians entitle con- 
 firmatory evidence. Here it is then:
 
 IN HIS GLORY 53 
 
 SULTANA DOUBLE PASTE AND CARMINATIVE 
 
 WATER 
 
 OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 
 
 MARVELLOUS DISCOVERY. 
 
 APPROVED BY THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE. 
 
 For a long time past a paste for the hands and a water for the 
 face, giving a result superior to that obtained by Cologne water 
 in toilet work have been generally desired in Europe by both 
 sexes. After having devoted long vigils to the study, in both 
 sexes, of the derm and the epiderm— men and women natur- 
 ally attach the greatest importance to softness, suppleness, 
 clearness and a velvety feeling of the skin, the Sieur Birot- 
 teau, a perfumer favorably known in the capital and abroad, 
 has discovered a paste and a water justly called marvellous, 
 since their appearance, by the elegant of both sexes in Paris. 
 Indeed, this paste and this water possess astonishing prop- 
 erties for acting on the skin, without wrinkling it prema- 
 turely, an effect inseparable from the drugs inconsiderately 
 used until this day and invented by greedy and ignorant per- 
 sons. This discovery rests on the division of temperaments, 
 which group themselves into two great classes indicated by the 
 color of the paste and of the water, which are rose-colored for 
 the derm and epiderm of persons of lymphatic constitution, 
 and white for those of persons who enjoy a sanguine tempera- 
 ment. 
 
 This paste is called Sultana Paste, because this discovery 
 had already been made for the seraglio by an Arab physician. 
 It has been approved by the Institute on the report of our 
 illustrious chemist, Vauquelin, as well as the water which is 
 based on the principles that have dictated the composition of 
 the paste- 
 
 This precious Paste, which exhales the sweetest perfume, 
 makes the most obstinate freckles disappear, whitens the most
 
 54 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 recalcitrant epidermis, and stops the sweating of the hands of 
 which women, no less than men, complain. 
 
 The Carminative Water removes those small pimples that, at 
 certain times, suddenly break out on women and upset their 
 plans in regard to the ball ; it refreshes and revives the colors 
 by opening or closing the pores according to the exigencies of 
 the temperament ; it is already so well known for postponing 
 the ravages of time that many ladies have, out of gratitude, 
 called it BEAUTY'S FRIEND. 
 
 Eau-de-Cologne is purely and simply a common perfume 
 without any special efficacy, while the Sultana Double Paste 
 and the Carminative Water are two active compositions, of a 
 motive power acting without danger on the internal qualities 
 and aiding them ; their odors, essentially balsamic and having 
 a diverting effect, quickens the heart and the brain admirably, 
 brightens the ideas and reawakens them ; they are as aston- 
 ishing for their merit as for their simplicity; finally, this is an 
 additional attraction offered to women and a means of seduc- 
 tion that men may acquire. 
 
 The daily use of the water relieves any smart resulting from 
 shaving ; it also preserves the lips from chapping and keeps 
 them red ; it naturally effaces in the long run all freckles, and 
 at last gives back its natural tone to the flesh. These effects 
 always tell in man of aperfect equilibrium between the humors, 
 which tends to free persons subject to sick-headache from 
 this horrible malady. In fine, the Carminative Water, which 
 may be used by women in all their toilet work, prevents 
 cutaneous affections by not restraining the transpiration of the 
 tissues, while at the same time communicating to them a per- 
 sistent velvety feeling. 
 
 Address, prepaid, MONSIEUR CESAR BIROTTEAU, suc- 
 cessor to Ragon, formerly perfumer to Queen Marie-Antoin- 
 ette, la Reine des Roses, Rue Saint-Honore, Paris, near the 
 Place Vendome. 
 
 The price of a cake of paste is three francs, and that of a bottle 
 is six francs.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 55 
 
 Monsieur Cesar Birotteau, in order to guard against all 
 imitations, warns the public that the paste is wrapped in 
 paper bearing his signature, and that the bottles have a stamp 
 blown in the glass. 
 
 Success was due, without Cesar suspecting it, to 
 Constance, who advised him to send the Carminative 
 Water and the Sultana Paste in cases to all the per- 
 fumers in France and abroad, offering them a reduc- 
 tion of thirty per cent if they would take these two 
 articles by the gross. The paste and the water were 
 in reality much better than similar cosmetics and 
 misled the ignorant by the distinction set up between 
 temperament: the five hundred perfumers of France, 
 enticed by gain, annually bought of Birotteau each 
 over three hundred gross of paste and water, a con- 
 sumption that brought him a limited percentage of 
 profits, but enormous because of the quantity of the 
 articles. Cesar was then able to buy the shanty 
 and the ground in the Faubourg du Temple, and he 
 built an extensive factory there and handsomely 
 decorated his la Reine des Roses shop. His dwelling 
 received the small comforts of plenty, and his wife 
 was not so worried after that. 
 
 In 1810 Madame Cesar foresaw a rise in rents, 
 and she urged her husband to become the chief 
 tenant of the house in which they had the shop and 
 the entresol, and to remove their living quarters to 
 the second floor. A fortunate circumstance decided 
 Constance to shut her eyes against the follies that 
 Birotteau lavished for her on his apartments. The 
 perfumer had just been elected a judge of the
 
 56 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Tribunal of Commerce. His iionesty, his well-known 
 sense of propriety and the consideration in which 
 he was held gained for him this dignity which from 
 that time classed him among the prominent shop- 
 keepers of Paris. To increase his knowledge he 
 got up at five o'clock in the morning, read the col- 
 lections of jurisprudence, and the books that treated 
 of commercial lawsuits. His idea of justice, his 
 rectitude, his good will, qualities essential in the 
 appreciation of the difficulties submitted to consular 
 judgment, made him one of the most highly esteemed 
 of the judges. His defects contributed equally to 
 his reputation. Feeling his inferiority, Cesar cheer- 
 fully made his knowledge subordinate to that of his 
 colleagues; thus flattered at being listened to by him 
 with such curiosity, some sought the silent appro- 
 bation of a man deemed profound by reason of his 
 quality as a listener; others, charmed by his modesty 
 and mildness, boasted of it. The persons appearing 
 before him praised his benevolence, his spirit of con- 
 ciliation, and he was often selected as arbitrator in 
 disputes in which his common sense would suggest 
 to him a judgment worthy of a Cadi. During the 
 whole time that he was in office he knew how to 
 use language filled with commonplaces, bristling 
 with axioms and calculations couched in rounded 
 phrases which, pleasantly spoken, sounded like elo- 
 quence in the ears of superficial folk. He was thus 
 pleasing to that naturally mediocre majority, forever 
 condemned to work, to keeping their eyes on the 
 ground. Cesar lost so much time in the court that
 
 IN HIS GLORY 57 
 
 his wife prevailed upon him to decline re-election to 
 this costly honor. About 1813, thanks to its con- 
 stantly pulling together and after having plodded 
 through life in the common fashion, this household 
 saw the beginning of an era of prosperity which it 
 seemed as if nothing would interrupt. Monsieur 
 and Madame Ragon, their predecessors; their uncle 
 Pillerault, Roguin the notary, the Matifats, druggists 
 in the Rue des Lombards, who supplied the stock to 
 la Reine des Roses; Joseph Lebas, cloth merchant, 
 successor to the Guillaumes, of the Chat qui pelote, 
 one of the lights of the Rue Saint-Denis; Judge 
 Popinot, Madame Ragon's brother; Chiffreville, of 
 the firm of Protez & Chiffreville; Monsieur and 
 Madame Cochin, employed in the Treasury and 
 silent partners of the Matifats; the Abbe Loraux, 
 confessor and director of the pious folk of this 
 coterie, and some other persons, made up the circle 
 of their friends. Despite Birotteau's royalist lean- 
 ings, public opinion was then in his favor; he passed 
 for being very rich, though he was as yet worth only 
 a hundred thousand francs outside of his business. 
 The regularity of his affairs, his exactness, his habit 
 of owing nothing, of never discounting his paper, 
 but of offering, on the contrary, solid assets to those 
 to whom he could be useful, and his obliging dis- 
 position, gained him enormous credit. Moreover, 
 he had really made a great deal of money; but his 
 buildings and his factories had absorbed much of it. 
 Then, to keep his house cost him nearly twenty 
 thousand francs a year. Finally, the education of
 
 58 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Cesarine, an only daughter, idolized by Constance 
 as well as by him, was a heavy expense. Neither 
 the husband nor the wife had any regard for money 
 when there was question of providing pleasure for 
 their daughter, from whom they would not be sep- 
 arated. Imagine the enjoyment of the poor upstart 
 peasant when he heard his charming Cesarine re- 
 peating on the piano one of Steibelt's sonatas or 
 singing a romance; when he saw her write the 
 French language correctly, when he admired her 
 reading to him both the Racines, explaining their 
 beauties, drawing a landscape or making a sketch in 
 sepia! What a happiness it was for him to live again 
 in so beautiful a flower, one so pure, that had not 
 yet left its parent stem, an angel, in fine, whose 
 budding graces, whose first developments had been 
 most fondly watched! an only daughter, incapable 
 of having contempt for her father or of making fun 
 of his lack of education, so truly was she a young 
 girl. When Cesar came to Paris he knew how to 
 read, write and figure, but his education stopped 
 there, his laborious life had prevented him from 
 acquiring ideas and knowledge foreign to the per- 
 fumery trade. Constantly mingling with people to 
 whom the sciences and letters were a matter of 
 indifference, and whose education embraced only 
 specialties; having no time to devote to higher 
 studies, the perfumer became a practical man. Of 
 necessity he adopted the language, the errors, the 
 opinions of middle-class Paris, who admire Moliere, 
 Voltaire and Rousseau on hearsay, who buy their
 
 IN HIS GLORY 59 
 
 works but do not read them; who hold that one 
 ought to say ormoire, because women hid their gold 
 (or) in these articles of furniture, as well as their 
 garments, in former times nearly always of moire, 
 and that it was a corruption for people to say armoire. 
 Potier, Talma, Mademoiselle Mars were ten times 
 millionaires and did not live like other human beings: 
 the great tragedian ate raw meat. Mademoiselle Mars 
 sometimes had stewed pearls, in imitation of a famous 
 Egyptian actress. The Emperor had leather pockets 
 in his vests so that he could take his snuff in hand- 
 fuls, he galloped on horseback up the steps of the 
 orange grove at Versailles. Writers, artists, died in 
 the hospital in consequence of their eccentricities; 
 they were, moreover, all atheists, one must be 
 careful about receiving them at one's house. 
 
 Joseph Lebas referred with horror to the history 
 of the marriage of his sister-in-law Augustine to 
 Sommervieux, the painter. Astronomers lived on 
 spiders. These luminous points of their knowledge 
 of the French language, of the dramatic art, of poli- 
 tics, of literature, of science, explain the scope of 
 this middle-class intelligence. A poet who passes 
 along the Rue des Lombards may, by scenting cer- 
 tain perfumes there, dream of Asia. He admires 
 dancing girls in an Indian caravansary while breath- 
 ing the vetiver-laden air. Struck by the brilliancy 
 of the cochineal, he finds in it the Brahmanic poems, 
 religions and castes. Running up against crude 
 ivory, he mounts on elephants' backs, in a muslin 
 cage, and there makes love like the king of Lahore.
 
 60 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 But the small trader is ignorant of whence come or 
 where grow the products among which he works. 
 Birotteau as a perfumer didn't know an iota of 
 natural history or of chemistry. In regarding Vau- 
 quelin as a great man, he considered him as an 
 exception, he was of the character of that retired 
 grocer who thus summed up a discussion on the 
 manner of importing tea: " Tea comes only in two 
 ways, hy caravan or by Havre," he says with a know- 
 ing air. According to Birotteau, aloes and opium 
 were to be found only in the Rue des Lombards. 
 The pretended rose water from Constantinople was 
 made, like Cologne water, at Paris. These names 
 of places were lies invented to please the French, 
 who cannot bear the things of their own country. A 
 French dealer would have to say his discovery was 
 English, in order to give it vogue, as in England a 
 druggist attributes his own to France. Nevertheless, 
 Cesar could never be wholly foolish or stupid : 
 honesty and goodness shed on the acts of his life a 
 reflection that rendered them respectable, for a good 
 act leads to the acceptance of all possible shades of 
 ignorance. His constant success gave him assurance. 
 In Paris assurance is accepted as the power of which 
 it is the sign. Having appreciated Cesar during the 
 first three years of their married life, his wife was a 
 prey to continual trances ; in this union she repre- 
 sented the sagacious and foreseeing party, doubt, 
 opposition, fear; as Cesar represented in it audacity, 
 ambition, action, the unheard-of happiness of fatality. 
 In spite of appearances, the dealer was fickle, while
 
 IN HIS GLORY 6l 
 
 his wife in reality had patience and courage. Thus 
 a pusillanimous, mediocre man, without education, 
 without ideas, without knowledge, without character, 
 and who would not be expected to succeed in the 
 most critical position in the world, came, by the 
 spirit of his life, by his sense of justice, by the 
 goodness of a truly Christian soul, by love for the 
 only woman he would have, to pass for a remarkable 
 man, courageous and full of resolve. The public 
 saw only the results. Except Pillerault and Judge 
 Popinot, persons in his circle, seeing Cesar only on 
 the surface, could not judge of him. Moreover, 
 the twenty or thirty friends who were wont to get 
 together talked the same nonsense, repeated the 
 same commonplaces, all regarded one another as 
 superior folk in their sphere. The women vied with 
 each other in the matter of good dinners and toilets; 
 each of them had said her all in expressing contempt 
 for her husband. Madame Birotteau alone had the 
 good sense to treat hers with honor and respect in 
 public; she saw in him the man who, despite his 
 veiled incapacity, had made their fortune; and whose 
 distinction she shared. Only she sometimes asked 
 herself what was the world, if all men pretending to 
 be superior resembled her husband. This conduct 
 contributed not a little to keep up the respectful 
 regard accorded to the tradesman in a country 
 where women are rather prone to disparage their 
 husbands and to complain of them.
 
 * 
 
 The first days of the year 1814, so fatal to 
 Imperial France, were marked in the Birotteau 
 family by two events that would not be considered 
 of much importance in any other household, but of 
 a nature to make an impression on simple souls like 
 those of Cesar and his wife, who, glancing over 
 their past, found in it only sweet emotions. They 
 had employed as head clerk a young man of twenty- 
 two, whose name was Ferdinand du Tillet. This 
 youth, who came from a perfumery house that had 
 refused to give him an interest in the profits, and 
 who passed for a man of parts, had made strenuous 
 efforts to get into la Reine des Roses, whose inmates, 
 strong points and domestic habits were known to 
 him. Birotteau received him and gave him a 
 thousand francs salary, with the intention of making 
 him his successor. Ferdinand had so great an 
 influence over the destinies of this family that it is 
 necessary to speak briefly of him. At first he was 
 simply called Ferdinand, his only name. This 
 anonym seemed to him a great advantage at the 
 time when Napoleon was pressing families in order 
 to find soldiers in them. He was, however, born 
 somewhere, as the result of some cruel and volup- 
 tuous fancy. Here is the meagre information gath- 
 ered regarding his civil status. In 1793 a poor girl 
 of Le Tillet, a hamlet situated near Les Andelys, 
 
 (63)
 
 64 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 gave birth to a child by night in the garden of the 
 officiating clergyman of Le Tillet, and went to 
 drown herself after rapping on the shutters. The 
 good priest took the child, gave it the name of the 
 saint inscribed on the calendar for that day, nour- 
 ished it and brought it up as his own. The cure 
 died in 1804, without leaving enough money to 
 complete the education that he had commenced. 
 Ferdinand, thrown into Paris, there led a filibustering 
 life, the chances of which might bring him to the 
 scaffold or to fortune, to the bar, into the army, into 
 trade, or to domestic servitude. Ferdinand, obliged 
 to live as a veritable Figaro, became a commercial 
 traveler, then clerk to a perfumer at Paris, to which 
 he returned after having traveled through France, 
 studied the world and determined on succeeding in 
 it at any cost. 
 
 In 181 3 he deemed it necessary to prove his age 
 and to give himself a civic standing, and so he peti- 
 tioned the court at Les Andelys for a decree trans- 
 ferring the record of his baptism from the registry 
 of the presbytery to that of the mayor's office, and 
 there he obtained an amendment on asking that 
 they would add to the record the name of Du Tillet, 
 by which he had been making himself known, in 
 virtue of the fact of his situation in the parish. 
 Fatherless and motherless, without any guardian but 
 the imperial procurator, alone in the world, owing 
 nothing to anybody, he treated society as Turk 
 would treat Moor, in finding it but a harsh step- 
 mother; he knew no other guide than self-interest,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 65 
 
 and all the means of acquiring fortune seemed good 
 to him. This Norman, endowed with dangerous 
 abilities, added to his desire for success the very 
 serious defects with which, whether wrongly or 
 rightly, the natives of his province are reproached. 
 His wheedling ways made up for his caviling 
 disposition, for he was the roughest kind of wrangler 
 in a dispute; and while he audaciously questioned the 
 rights of others, he yielded none of his own; he 
 kept his adversary to time, he tired him out by an 
 inflexible will. His chief merit was that of the 
 Scapins of the old comedy: he had their fertility of 
 resource, their adroitness in sailing close to the law, 
 their itch for seizing what is worth keeping. Finally, 
 he counted on applying to his penury the expression 
 which the Abbe Terray used in the name of the 
 State, free to become an honest man later on. 
 Gifted with restless activity, with military intrep- 
 idity, asking everybody to do a good as well as a bad 
 turn for him, justifying his demand by the theory of 
 personal interest, he had too much contempt for 
 men, believing them all corruptible; he was far from 
 being too delicate regarding the choice of means, if 
 he found them all good; he too persistently regarded 
 success and money as the discharge of the moral 
 mechanism not to succeed sooner or later. Such a 
 man, placed between the chain-gang and millions, 
 was bound to be vindictive, imperious, quick in 
 his resolves, but dissembling like a Cromwell who 
 would cut off Probity's head. His depth was con- 
 cealed under a spirit of raillery and levity. A mere 
 5
 
 66 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 perfumer's clerk, he set no bounds to his ambition; 
 he had taken in society with one hateful glance, say- 
 ing: " Thou shalt be mine!" he had sworn to himself 
 not to marry until he was forty; and he kept his 
 word. Physically Ferdinand was a lank young 
 man, of pleasing mien and of mixed manners that 
 enabled him to assume at need the tone of any 
 rank of society. His sorry figure pleased at first 
 sight; but, later on, on becoming acquainted with 
 him, one detected strange expressions that fix them- 
 selves on the surface of people ill at ease with them- 
 selves, or whose conscience murmurs at certain 
 times. His complexion, quite pronounced on account 
 of his soft Norman skin, had a sickly hue. The 
 glance of his squinting eyes looking out from silvery 
 rings was furtive, but terrible when he directed it 
 straight at his victim. His voice seemed exhausted like 
 that of a man who has been speaking long. His thin 
 lips were not lacking in gracefulness; but his pointed 
 nose, his slightly arched forehead betrayed a racial 
 defect. Finally, his hair, in color like that of hair 
 dyed black, indicated a social half-breed who de- 
 rived his intellect from a great libertine lord, his 
 baseness from a seduced peasant girl, his knowledge 
 from an unfinished education and his vices from his 
 devil-may-care disposition. Birotteau learned with 
 the most profound astonishment that his clerk went 
 out quite elegantly attired, came back very late, and 
 went to bankers' or notaries' balls. These doings 
 displeased Cesar: in his opinion, clerks ought to 
 study the books of their business, and think only
 
 IN HIS GLORY 67 
 
 of their duties. The perfumer took exception to 
 frivolity, he mildly reproved Du Tillet for wearing 
 too fine linen, for having cards on which his name 
 was engraved thus: F. DU TiLLET; a style that, in 
 his commercial jurisprudence, belonged exclusively 
 to fashionable people. Ferdinand had come to this 
 Orgon's house with the intentions of a Tartuffe; he 
 paid court to Madame Cesar, tested her conjugal 
 fidelity, and judged his mistress as she herself 
 judged him, but with terrible promptness. Though 
 discreet, reserved, saying only what he meant, Du 
 Tillet disclosed his opinions on men and life in such 
 a way as to frighten a timid woman who shared her 
 husband's religious views, and regarded it as a crime 
 to do the slightest wrong to one's neighbor. Despite 
 the tact used by Madame Birotteau, Du Tillet guessed 
 at the contempt which he inspired. Constance, to 
 whom Ferdinand had written some love-letters, soon 
 perceived a change in her clerk's manner, and he 
 assumed toward her airs calculated to give the 
 idea of a mutual understanding. Without telling 
 her husband of her secret reasons, she advised him 
 to discharge Ferdinand. Birotteau found himself in 
 accord with his wife on this point. The clerk's dis- 
 missal was decided on. Three days before sending 
 him away, on a Saturday evening, Birotteau took 
 the monthly account of his cash, and found it three 
 thousand francs short. His consternation was ter- 
 rible, less on account of the loss than of the sus- 
 picions that rested on three clerks, a cook, a shop- 
 boy, and indentured workmen. Who was to be
 
 68 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 blamed for it? Madame Birotteau never left her 
 desk. The clerk in charge of the cash was a nephew 
 of Monsieur Ragon, named Popinot, a young man 
 of eighteen, who lodged in the house, and was hon- 
 esty personified. His figures, disagreeing with the 
 sum in the drawer, showed the deficit and indicated 
 that the money was removed after the balance had 
 been struck. The husband and wife resolved to say 
 nothing and to watch the house. 
 
 Next day, Sunday, they received their friends. 
 The families that made up this sort of coterie enter- 
 tained each other in turn. While playing bouil- 
 lotte, Roguin the notary placed on the table some old 
 louis that Madame Cesar had received some days be- 
 fore from a newly-married woman, Madame d'Espard. 
 
 "You have rifled a poor-box," said the old man 
 laughing. 
 
 Roguin said that he had won this money at a 
 banker's from Du Tillet, who unblushingly con- 
 firmed the notary's reply. The perfumer turned 
 purple. The day's pleasure ended, just as Ferdi- 
 nand was going to bed, Birotteau led him into the 
 shop, pretending that he wanted to talk business. 
 
 " Du Tillet," said the good man to him, "three 
 thousand francs are missing from my cash, and I am 
 unable to fix suspicion; the circumstance of the old 
 louis seems to be too much against you for me not to 
 speak to you of it: and so we will not go to bed 
 without having found the error, for, after all, it can 
 be only an error. You may indeed have taken some 
 part of your allowance on account."
 
 IN HIS GLORY 69 
 
 Du Tillet said in effect that he had taken the louis. 
 The perfumer went and opened his ledger, his 
 clerk's account was found not to have as yet been 
 debited. 
 
 "I was in a hurry, I asked Popinot to make a 
 record of the amount," said Ferdinand. 
 
 " Just so," said Birotteau, aghast at the Nor- 
 man's cool carelessness, who well understood the 
 good people to whose house he had come with the 
 intention of making his fortune. 
 
 The perfumer and his clerk passed the night in 
 making verifications that the worthy merchant well 
 knew to be useless. While passing up and down, 
 Cesar slipped three thousand-franc bank notes into 
 the drawer, fastening them to the strip of the till, 
 then he pretended to be overcome with fatigue, 
 feigned to sleep and began snoring. Du Tillet 
 woke him up with an air of triumph, and affected a 
 transport of joy at having thrown light on the mis- 
 take. Next day Birotteau grumbled publicly at 
 little Popinot and his wife, and assumed an air of 
 anger on account of their negligence. A fortnight 
 later Ferdinand du Tillet got employment in a 
 broker's office. The perfumery business did not 
 suit him, he said, he wanted to study banking. On 
 leaving Birotteau's Du Tillet spoke of Madame 
 Cesar in a way to make believe that his employer 
 had dismissed him on account of jealousy. A few 
 months afterwards Du Tillet came to see his old 
 employer and asked him to go his security for twenty 
 thousand francs, in order to complete the bonds that
 
 70 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 were required of him in a transaction that was put- 
 ting him on the high road to fortune. Remarking the 
 surprise that Birotteau showed at this effrontery, Du 
 Tiliet frowned and asked him if he had no confidence 
 in him. Matifat and two merchants talking business 
 with Birotteau remarked the perfumer's indignation, 
 though he suppressed his wrath in their presence. 
 Du Tiliet had perhaps become an honest man again, 
 his fall might have been caused by a mistress in 
 despair or by a run of gambling, and to be publicly 
 scorned by an honest man might throw into a life of 
 crime and misfortune one who was still young and 
 perhaps on the way to repent. This angel then 
 took a pen and put his signature to Du Tillet's 
 paper, telling him that he was glad to do this slight 
 service for a youth who had been very useful to him. 
 The blood rushed to his face as he was uttering this 
 white lie. Du Tiliet did not brave this man's look, 
 and no doubt at that moment vowed against him 
 that implacable hate which the angels of darkness 
 conceived against the angels of light. Du Tiliet so 
 cleverly held the pole while dancing on the tight-rope 
 of financial speculations that he was always elegant 
 and rich in appearance before he became so in 
 reality. From the time that he began to have a 
 carriage he never gave it up ; he kept himself in the 
 higher sphere of the gentry who mingle pleasure 
 with business, making the ante-room of the Opera 
 an annex of the Bourse, the Turcarets of the time. 
 Thanks to Madame Roguin, whose acquaintance he 
 made at Birotteau's, he promptly moved among the
 
 IN HIS GLORY 71 
 
 highest of those engaged in financial affairs. At 
 that time Ferdinand du Tillet had reached a degree 
 of prosperity that had nothing unreal about it. In 
 the best standing with the Nucingen house, into 
 which Roguin had gained him admittance, he at 
 once allied himself with the Keller brothers, with 
 the higher banking world. No one knew whence 
 came to this fellow the vast amounts of capital 
 that he kept in circulation, but his good fortune was 
 attributed to his intelligence and his honesty. 
 
 The Restoration made a somebody of Cesar, from 
 whose mind naturally the whirlwind of political 
 crises had removed the memory of those two domes- 
 tic incidents. The unchangeable character of his 
 royalist opinions, to which he had become quite 
 indifferent since he had been wounded, but in which 
 he had persisted for appearance sake, the memory 
 of his devotedness in Vendemiaire, gained protection 
 for him in high places, precisely because he asked 
 for nothing. He was appointed chief of battalion in 
 the National Guard, though he could not repeat the 
 first word of command. In 1815 Napoleon, ever 
 hostile to Birotteau, removed him from office. 
 During the Hundred-Days Birotteau became the 
 bugbear of the Liberals in his quartier; for only in 
 181 5 began the political divisions between merchants, 
 until then unanimous in their desire for peace, which 
 business needed. On the second Restoration the 
 royal government had to recast the municipal body. 
 The Prefect wanted to name Birotteau for Mayor. 
 Thanks to his wife, the perfumer accepted only the
 
 72 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 place of deputy, which made him less prominent. 
 This modesty greatly increased the esteem in which 
 he was generally held, and gained for him the friend- 
 ship of the Mayor, Monsieur Flametde la Billardiere. 
 Birotteau, who remembered seeing him come to la 
 Reine des Roses in the days when the shop served as 
 a meeting place for the royalist conspirators, himself 
 suggested him to the Prefect of the Seine, who con- 
 sulted him on the choice to be made. Monsieur and 
 Madame Birotteau were never forgotten in the 
 Mayor's invitations. In fine, Madame Cesar often 
 took up collections at Saint-Roch, in pretty and 
 good company. La Billardiere warmly supported 
 Birotteau when there was question of distributing 
 the crosses granted to the municipal body, alleging 
 his wound received at Saint-Roch, his attachment to 
 the Bourbons and the consideration in which he was 
 held. The Ministry, which, while lavishing the 
 Cross of the Legion of Honor in order to undo 
 Napoleon's work, wished to make creatures of its 
 own, and to rally to the Bourbons the various 
 branches of trade, the men of art and science, 
 accordingly included Birotteau in the coming pro- 
 motions. This favor, in harmony with Birotteau's 
 prominence in his arrondissement, put him in a 
 position in which must grow the ideas of a man with 
 whom everything so far had succeeded. The news 
 of his promotion brought to him by the Mayor was 
 the last argument that decided the perfumer to 
 launch into the operation which he had just explained 
 to his wife in order that he might the more speedily
 
 IN HIS GLORY 73 
 
 give up the perfumery business, and rise to the 
 region of the higher middle-class of Paris, 
 
 Cesar was then forty years old. The work to 
 which he had been devoting himself in his factory 
 had brought him some premature wrinkles, and had 
 slightly silvered the long tufted hair on which the 
 pressure of his hat had made a glossy curve. His 
 brow, on which his locks, by the way they were ar- 
 ranged, formed five tufts, bespoke the simplicity of 
 his life. His heavy eyebrows did not inspire dread, 
 for his blue eyes harmonized, by their ever frank and 
 limpid look, with his honest man's forehead. His 
 nose, broken at birth and thick at the end, gave him 
 the appearance of astonishment peculiar to the Paris 
 quidnuncs. His lips were very thick, and his large 
 chin fell straight down. His face highly colored, of 
 square outline, presented, by the arrangement of 
 the wrinkles, by the ensemble of his physiognomy, 
 the ingenuously shrewd characteristics of the peas- 
 ant. The general strength of body, stoutness of 
 limbs, square back, broad feet, all denoted, more- 
 over, the villager transplanted in Paris. His big and 
 hairy hands, the fat joints of his wrinkled fingers, 
 his large square finger-nails, would have betrayed 
 his origin, had not vestiges of it remained on every 
 part of his person. He had on his lips the benevolent 
 smile assumed by dealers when you enter their 
 shops; but this commercial smile was the image of 
 his interior contentment and was a picture of the 
 state of his sweet soul. His distrust never went 
 beyond business, his cunning left him on the
 
 74 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 threshold of the Bourse or when he shut his ledger. 
 Suspicion was to him what his printed bill-heads 
 were, a very necessity of trade. His figure pre- 
 sented a sort of comic assurance, of foppery mingled 
 with simplicity, which made him odd to look at 
 while saving him from a too complete resemblance 
 to the dull figure of the Parisian middle-class man. 
 Without this air of unaffected self-admiration and of 
 faith in his own personality, he would have impressed 
 one with too much respect; thus he resembled man- 
 kind in paying his quota of ridicule. When talking, 
 he habitually crossed his hands behind his back. 
 When he thought he had said something polite or 
 pointed, he rose imperceptibly on tip-toe, twice, and 
 fell heavily on his heels, as if to emphasize his state- 
 ment. At the height of a discussion he would some- 
 times be seen turning round abruptly, taking a few 
 steps as if he were going in search of objections and 
 returning brusquely on his adversary. He never 
 interrupted, and often found himself the victim of 
 that observance of propriety, for others would seize 
 the opportunity to talk, and the good man would 
 leave the place without having been able to say a 
 word. His large experience in commercial affairs 
 had given him habits characterized by some people 
 as manias. If a certain bill was not paid, he turned 
 it over to the constable, and took no further concern 
 about it but to receive the money, interest and 
 costs; the constable was to persevere until the 
 merchant had failed; Cesar then abandoned all pro- 
 ceedings, did not appear at any meeting of creditors,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 75 
 
 and kept his claims. This system and his implacable 
 contempt for bankrupts he copied from Monsieur 
 Ragon, who, in the course of his commercial life, 
 had experienced such a great loss of time in law- 
 suits that he regarded the small and uncertain 
 dividend given by settlements as amply compensated 
 for by the use of the time that was not lost in going, 
 coming, making propositions and running after the 
 excuses of dishonesty. 
 
 " If the insolvent is an honest man and gets on 
 his feet again, he will pay you," said Monsieur 
 Ragon. "If he remains poor and is simply unfor- 
 tunate, why torment him? If he is a cheat, you 
 will never get anything. Your known severity 
 makes you pass for being uncompromising, and, as 
 it is impossible to compound with you, as long as 
 a man can pay it is you who will be paid." 
 
 Cesar reached a meeting-place at the time speci- 
 fied; but, ten minutes later, he left with an inflexi- 
 bility that nothing could bend: and so his punctuality 
 made those punctual who had business with him. 
 The costume he had adopted agreed with his man- 
 ners and his physiognomy. No power could have 
 made him give up the white muslin cravats, the 
 corners of which, embroidered by his daughter or 
 his wife, hung down from his neck. His white 
 quilted vest, buttoned square, extended very low 
 over his sufficiently prominent paunch, for he was 
 slightly corpulent. He wore blue trousers, black silk 
 stockings and shoes with ribbons, the knots of which 
 often came undone. His olive-green frock-coat.
 
 76 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 always too loose, and his broad-brimmed hat gave 
 him the appearance of a Quaker. When he dressed 
 for Sunday evenings he put on silk breeches, gold- 
 buckled shoes and his inevitable square vest, both 
 laps of which he then kept somewhat open, so 
 as to show the upper part of his plaited shirt-frill. 
 His maroon cloth dress-coat had broad lappels and 
 long skirts. He kept until 1819 two watch-chains 
 that hung parallel, but he wore the second only on 
 dress occasions. Such was Cesar Birotteau, a 
 worthy fellow to whom the mysteries that preside 
 over the birth of men had denied the ability to take 
 in the whole range of both politics and life, to rise 
 above the social level in which the middle class 
 lives, who in everything followed the meanderings of 
 routine: all his opinions had been communicated 
 to him, and he applied them without examination. 
 Blind but good, by no means unworldly but deeply 
 religious, he had a pure heart. In that heart shone 
 a single love, the light and strength of his life; for 
 his longing after betterment, the little knowledge 
 that he had acquired, all came from his affection for 
 his wife and daughter. 
 
 As regards Madame Cesar, then thirty-seven years 
 old, she so perfectly resembled the Venus of Milo 
 that all those who knew her saw her portrait in this 
 beautiful statue when the Due de Riviere sent it. 
 In a few months sorrows so readily impressed their 
 yellow tints on her blooming fair complexion, so 
 cruelly hollowed and darkened the bluish circle in 
 which her fine green eyes sparkled, that she had the
 
 IN HIS GLORY -j-j 
 
 appearance of an old Madonna; for she ever retained, 
 amid her ruins, a sweet candor, a pure though sad 
 look, and it was impossible not to consider her always 
 a beautiful woman, of a wise, modest bearing and 
 perfect propriety. At the ball foreshadowed by 
 Cesar, she was, moreover, to enjoy a last splendor 
 of beauty that everybody remarked. 
 
 Every life has its zenith, when causes operate 
 and are in exact relation with results. This noon- 
 day of life, when the active forces are in equilibrium 
 and are produced in all their splendor, is not only 
 common to organized beings, but also to cities, 
 nations, ideas, institutions, branches of trade, enter- 
 prises that, like noble races and dynasties, begin, 
 rise and fall. Whence comes the strict rule by 
 which this germ of growth and decline is applied to 
 all that is organized here below.!* for death also 
 has, in times of scourge, its progress, its relaxation, 
 its recrudescence and its sleep. Our globe itself is 
 perhaps a rocket that is a little more durable than the 
 rest. History, repeating the causes of the pros- 
 perity and decline of all that has been here below, 
 might warn man of the moment when the play of all 
 his faculties is to stop; but neither conquerors, nor 
 actors, nor women, nor authors listen to the salutary 
 warning. Cesar Birotteau, who might have con- 
 sidered himself as having attained the zenith of his 
 fortune, took this time for stopping as a new starting- 
 point. He knew not, and moreover neither nations, 
 nor kings, have tried to write in ineffaceable 
 characters the cause of those upheavals with which
 
 78 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 history is full, of which such striking examples are 
 presented by so many sovereign or commercial 
 houses. Why should not new pyramids incessantly 
 recall this principle, which ought to dominate the 
 policies of nations as well as of individuals: When 
 the effect produced is no longer in direct relation or in 
 equal proportion to its cause, disorgani:{ation begins ! 
 But these monuments exist everywhere, they are 
 the traditions and the stones that speak to us of the 
 past, that commemorate the caprices of indomitable 
 destiny, whose hand effaces our dreams and proves 
 to us that the greatest events are summed up in 
 an idea. Troy and Napoleon are only poems. May 
 this history be the poem of the middle-class vicissi- 
 tudes of which no voice has thought of singing, so 
 devoid of grandeur do they seem, while for the same 
 reason they are stupendous: it is not a question of 
 any one particular man here, but of a whole people 
 of sorrows.
 
 While Cesar was going to sleep he feared that 
 on the morrow his wife would raise some peremptory 
 objections, and so he prepared to get up very early 
 in order to settle everything. At break of day, then, 
 he got up noiselessly, left his wife in bed, dressed 
 quickly and went down to the shop just as the boy 
 was taking off the numbered shutters. Birotteau, 
 seeing that he was alone, waited for his clerks to get 
 up, and stood on his doorstep examining how his 
 utility boy, who was named Raguet, was doing his 
 work, and Birotteau knew all about it! Though 
 cold, the weather was superb. 
 
 " Popinot, go bring me my hat, put on your shoes, 
 send Monsieur Celestin down, we are going to chat 
 together at the Tuileries," said he, seeing Anselme 
 coming down. 
 
 Popinot, that admirable reverse of Du Tillet, 
 whom one of those lucky accidents that make us 
 believe in a sub-Providence had placed close to Cesar, 
 plays so important a part in this history that it is 
 necessary to outline him briefly here. Madame 
 Ragon was a Mademoiselle Popinot. She had two 
 brothers. One, the youngest of the family, was 
 then associate judge in the committing court of the 
 Seine. The eldest had gone into the raw wool 
 business, had sunk his fortune in it, and died leav- 
 ing to the charge of the Ragons and his brother the 
 
 (79)
 
 80 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 judge, who had no children, his only son, who had 
 already lost his mother, she having died in child- 
 birth. To give a start to her nephew, Madame 
 Ragon had placed him in the perfumery business, 
 hoping to see him succeed Birotteau. Anselme 
 Popinot was small and club-footed, an infirmity that 
 chance gave to Lord Byron, Sir Walter Scott and 
 Talleyrand, so as not to discourage those who are 
 similarly afflicted. He had that bright and freckled 
 complexion for which red-haired people are remark- 
 able; but his clear brow, his gray veined agate- 
 colored eyes, his fine mouth, his clear complexion 
 and the grace of a modest youth, the timidity 
 inspired in him by his physical defect, gave rise to 
 substantial friendly feeling in his favor: people 
 love the weak. Popinot was interesting. Little Pop- 
 inot, everybody so called him, belonged to an essen- 
 tially religious family, in which virtue was marked by 
 intelligence, whose life was modest and filled with 
 good deeds. And so the child, reared by his uncle, 
 the judge, had combined in him the qualities that 
 make youth so beautiful: wise and affectionate, a 
 little backward, but full of ardor, mild as a lamb, but 
 not afraid of work, devoted, sober, he was endowed 
 with all the virtues of a Christian of the early ages 
 of the Church, Hearing mention made of a walk to 
 the Tuileries, the most eccentric proposition that his 
 imposing employer could make at that hour, Popinot 
 felt that he wanted to talk with him on business. 
 The clerk suddenly thought of Cesarine, the real 
 queen of roses, the living sign of the house, and by
 
 IN HIS GLORY 8l 
 
 whom he had been smitten the very day on which, 
 two months before Du Tillet, he had entered 
 Birotteau's. While going up stairs he was, then, 
 obliged to stop, his heart was too full, his arteries 
 were beating too violently; he soon came down fol- 
 lowed by Celestin, Birotteau's chief clerk. Anselme 
 and his employer walked towards the Tuileries 
 without saying a word. Popinot was then twenty- 
 one, and Birotteau had married at this age. Anselme 
 accordingly saw no bar to his marrying Cesarine, 
 though the perfumer's fortune and his daughter's 
 beauty were immense obstacles in the way of such 
 an ambitious wish being carried out; but love pro- 
 ceeds by bounds of hope, and the wilder they are, 
 the more faith is placed in them; and so, the farther 
 his mistress was from him, the keener were his 
 desires. Happy youth who, at a time of universal 
 leveling, when all hats are alike, succeeded in 
 creating distances between a perfumer's daughter 
 and himself, the scion of an old Parisian family! In 
 spite of his doubts and his uneasiness, he was happy: 
 he dined every day with Cesarine! Then, applying 
 himself to the affairs of the house, he did so with a 
 zeal, an ardor, that robbed work of all its bitterness; 
 by doing everything in Cesarine's name, he was 
 never tired, in a young man of twenty love feeds 
 on devotion. 
 
 "He will be a merchant, he will succeed," said 
 
 Cesar of him to Madame Ragon, boasting of Anselme's 
 
 activity about the stock of the factory, praising his 
 
 aptitude in relation to the fine points of the art, 
 
 6
 
 82 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 recalling the eagerness of his work at the times when 
 shipments were to be made, and when, his sleeves 
 rolled up, his arms bare, the lame youth boxed and 
 nailed up, by himself alone, more cases than did all 
 the other clerks. 
 
 The known and acknowledged pretensions of Alex- 
 andre Crottat, Roguin's chief clerk, the fortune owned 
 by his father, a rich farmer of La Brie, were very 
 serious obstacles in the way of the orphan's triumph; 
 but these difficulties were not the hardest to over- 
 come: in the bottom of his heart Popinot buried fad 
 secrets that increased the distance between Cesarine 
 and himself. The Ragon's estate, on which he 
 might have counted, had become impaired; it was 
 the orphan's good luck to help them to live by 
 giving them his meagre salary. Yet he believed in 
 success! Several times had he caught glances cast 
 on him with apparent pride by Cesarine; in the 
 depths of her blue eyes he had dared to read a 
 secret thought full of caressing hopes. He walked 
 on, then, worked up by his hope of the moment, 
 trembling, silent, moved, as in such circumstances 
 might be all the young folk for whom life is budding. 
 
 " Popinot," said the good tradesman to him, "is 
 your aunt well?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Yet for some time past she has seemed care- 
 worn; can she have any secret trouble? Listen to 
 me, boy, you must not be mysterious with me, I am 
 as it were a member of the family, it is twenty-five 
 years since I first made the acquaintance of your
 
 IN HIS GLORY 83 
 
 uncle, Ragon. I entered his house in heavy iron- 
 tipped shoes, on my arrival from my native village. 
 Though the place is called Les Tresori^res, all I had 
 was one gold louis given to me by my godmother, the 
 late Marquise d'Uxelles, a relative of the Due and 
 Duchesse de Lenoncourt, who are regular customers 
 of ours. And so I have prayed every Sunday for 
 her and her whole family; her niece in Touraine, 
 Madame deMortsauf, I supply with all her perfumery, 
 I am constantly getting customers through them, as 
 for example Monsieur de Vandenesse, who takes 
 twelve hundred francs' worth a year. One should 
 be grateful not merely from kindness of heart, but 
 should purposely be so: and I wish you well un- 
 reservedly and for your own sake." 
 
 "Oh! sir, you had, if you allow me to say so, 
 a proud head!" 
 
 ** No, my boy, no, that does not suffice. I do not 
 say that my pate is not as good as the next, but I 
 had probity, tenacity ! I have had behavior, I have 
 never loved any woman but my wife. Love is a 
 famous vehicle, a happy word that Monsieur de 
 Vill^le used yesterday in the tribune." 
 
 "Love!" said Popinot, "Oh! sir, is it that—?" 
 
 " Look, see, there comes old man Roguin on foot 
 at the upper end of the Place Louis XV,, at eight 
 o'clock. What, then, is the good man doing there ? ' ' 
 Cesar said to himself, regardless of Anselme Popinot 
 and the hazelnut oil. 
 
 His wife's suspicions came back to his memory, 
 and, instead of entering the garden of the Tuileries,
 
 84 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Birotteau advanced towards the notary so as to meet 
 him. Anselme followed his employer at a distance, 
 unable to explain the sudden interest that he took in 
 an incident apparently of so little importance, but 
 very happy at the encouragement he found in what 
 Cesar had said about his iron-tipped shoes, his gold 
 louis and love. 
 
 Roguin, a tall and stout pimpled man, very bald in 
 front and black haired, must have been rather hand- 
 some in early life; he had been energetic when 
 young, for, from being a minor clerk, he had become 
 a notary; but at this moment his countenance pre- 
 sented, in the eyes of a shrewd observer, the marks 
 and fatigues of courted pleasures. When a man 
 plunges into the mire of excesses, it is not easy for 
 him to avoid getting soiled somewhere: and so there 
 was no nobility in Roguin's wrinkles and florid com- 
 plexion. Instead of that clear hue which lights up 
 the tissues of continent men and makes them look 
 the picture of health, one could see in him that his 
 blood had been tainted by acts at which the body 
 winces. He had an ignobly turned-up nose, like 
 that of people in whom the humors, going the way 
 of this organ, produce a secret infirmity which a 
 virtuous queen of France artlessly thought was a 
 misfortune common to the species, as she had never 
 approached any other man than the king close 
 enough to discover her error. By taking Spanish 
 snuff copiously Roguin imagined he could cover up 
 this shortcoming, but he only intensified its draw- 
 backs, which were the chief cause of his misery.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 85 
 
 Is not social flattery rather too long-drawn-out 
 when it is forever painting men in false colors, and 
 does not allow any of the true principles of their 
 vicissitudes, so often due to disease, to be revealed? 
 Physical ill-doing, considered in its moral ravages, 
 examined in its influences on the mechanism of life, 
 has so far perhaps been too much neglected by the 
 historians of morals. Madame Cesar had a clear 
 insight of the family secret. 
 
 Ever since the first night of her married life 
 Banker Chevrel's charming only daughter had con- 
 ceived an insuperable antipathy to the poor notary, 
 and wanted to apply at once for a divorce. Too 
 happy at having a woman worth five hundred 
 thousand francs, without taking account of hopes, 
 Roguin had entreated his wife not to bring a divorce 
 suit, leaving her free and abiding by all the con- 
 sequences of such a bargain. Madame Roguin, 
 having become sovereign mistress, acted towards her 
 husband as a courtesan towards an old lover. Roguin 
 soon found his wife too costly, and, like many Paris- 
 ian husbands, he began to consort with another 
 woman. Keeping at first within prudent limits, this 
 outlay was moderate. 
 
 In the beginning Roguin found, at little cost, 
 coquettes of low degree who were very glad of his 
 patronage; but for three years past he had been a 
 prey to one of those indomitable passions that seize 
 upon men between the ages of fifty and sixty, and 
 the object of which was one of the most magnificent 
 creatures of that time, known in the annals of
 
 86 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 prostitution by the nickname of the Dutch Beauty, for 
 she was destined to fall back into that gulf in which 
 death made her famous. She had formerly been 
 brought from Bruges to Paris by one of Roguin's 
 clients, who, forced to fly in consequence of political 
 events, made him a present of her in 1815. The 
 notary had bought for his mistress a small house in 
 the Champs-Elysees, had furnished it handsomely, 
 and allowed himself to be drawn on to satisfy the 
 costly caprices of this woman, whose lavishness 
 absorbed his fortune. 
 
 The gloomy expression imprinted on Roguin's 
 physiognomy, and which was dispelled when he saw 
 his client, was due to mysterious events in which 
 were to be found the secrets of the fortune so rapidly 
 made by Du Tillet. The plan formed by Du Tillet 
 changed from the very first Sunday on which he was 
 enabled to observe, in his employer's household, the 
 respective relations of Monsieur and Madame Roguin. 
 He had come less to test Madame Cesar's conjugal 
 fidelity than to make her offer Cesarine's hand as an 
 indemnity for a checked passion, and he had so much 
 the less difficulty in giving up the idea of this 
 marriage as he had thought Cesar rich and found 
 him poor. He played spy on the notary, insinuated 
 himself into his confidence, had himself introduced 
 at the Dutch Beauty's house, there studied on what 
 terms she was with Roguin, and learned that she 
 offered to thank her lover if he were less exuberant 
 to her. The Dutch Beauty was one of those foolish 
 women who are never disturbed about whence
 
 IN HIS GLORY 87 
 
 money comes or how it is acquired, and who would 
 give the feast with the crowns furnished by a par- 
 ricide. On the eve she never thought of the 
 morrow. To her the future was her afternoon, 
 and the end of the month eternity, even when she 
 had bills to pay. Delighted at finding a first lever, 
 Du Tillet began by getting the Dutch Beauty to 
 admit that she loved Roguin for thirty thousand 
 francs a year instead of fifty thousand, a service that 
 rakish old men rarely forget. 
 
 At last, after a supper liberal in wine, Roguin 
 opened his mind to Du Tillet on his financial 
 crisis. His real estate having been absorbed by 
 mortgage to his wife, he had been led by his passion 
 to take from his clients' funds a sum that already 
 amounted to more than half of what his office was 
 worth. When the rest should be eaten up, the 
 unfortunate Roguin would blow out his brains, for he 
 thought he could diminish the horror of failure by 
 appealing to public pity. Du Tillet saw an early and 
 safe fortune shining like a flash in the night's 
 drunken bout, he reassured Roguin and paid him for 
 his confidence by making him fire off his pistols in 
 the air. 
 
 "In such jeopardy," he said to him, "a man of 
 your ability ought not to behave like a fool and 
 walk haltingly, but act boldly." 
 
 He advised him to take a large sum at once, to 
 entrust it to him so that it could be boldly played in 
 some operation or other on the Bourse, or in some 
 speculation chosen from among the thousand and
 
 88 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 one that were being undertaken at that time. In 
 case of gain, both of them would together found a 
 banking house in which they would make use of the 
 deposits, and the profits of which would serve him in 
 satisfying his passion. If chance turned against 
 them, Roguin would go and live abroad, instead of 
 killing himself, because his Du Tillet would be 
 faithful to him as long as there was a sou left. It 
 was a rope within reach of a man who was drowning, 
 and Roguin did not perceive that the perfumer's 
 clerk was adjusting it around his neck. 
 
 Once master of Roguin's secret, Du Tillet made 
 use of it to bring into his power wife, mistress and 
 husband at one and the same time. Forewarned of 
 a disaster that she was far from suspecting, Madame 
 Roguin accepted the attentions of Du Tillet, who 
 then left the perfumer's sure of his future. He had 
 no difficulty in persuading the mistress to risk a cer- 
 tain sum, so as never to be obliged to have recourse 
 to prostitution should any misfortune befall her. 
 The wife put her affairs in order, promptly got 
 together a small amount of capital and gave it to a 
 man in whom her husband trusted, for the notary 
 first gave a hundred thousand francs to his accom- 
 plice. Placed close to Madame Roguin so as to 
 change this pretty woman's interest into affection, 
 Du Tillet knew how to inspire her with a most 
 violent passion. His three silent partners were 
 naturally of some account to him; but, not satisfied 
 with this, he had the audacity, while making them 
 gamble on the Bourse, to have an understanding
 
 IN HIS GLORY 8g 
 
 with an adversary who gave him back the amount of 
 the supposed losses, for he was playing both for his 
 clients and for himself. As soon as he had fifty 
 thousand francs, he was sure of making a great for- 
 tune; he turned the eagle glance that was character- 
 istic of him on the vicissitudes that were then rife in 
 France: he played low during the French campaign, 
 and high on the return of the Bourbons. Two 
 months after the restoration of Louis XVIII., Madame 
 Roguin was worth two hundred thousand francs, and 
 Du Tillet a hundred thousand crowns. The notary, 
 in whose estimation this young man was an angel, 
 had restored equilibrium in his affairs. The Dutch 
 Beauty squandered all; she was a prey to a nasty 
 cancer, named Maxime de Trailles, formerly page 
 to the Emperor. Du Tillet found out this woman's 
 real name while engaged with her on one occasion. 
 She was called Sarah Gobseck. Struck by the 
 coincidence of this name with that of a usurer of 
 whom he had heard spoken, he went to this old note- 
 shaver's office, the providence of young spendthrifts 
 of good family, just to find out how far the credit of 
 his female relative could be made to go with him. 
 The Brutus of usurers was implacable towards his 
 grand-niece, but Du Tillet knew how to please him 
 by posing as Sarah's banker, and as having capital 
 to put in circulation. The Norman and the usurer 
 natures agreed with each other. Gobseck found 
 that he needed a shrewd young man to supervise a 
 small operation abroad. An auditor in the Council 
 of State, taken by surprise on the return of the
 
 90 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Bourbons, had conceived the idea, in order to put 
 himself in good standing at court, to go to Germany 
 for the purpose of buying the titles to the debts con- 
 tracted by the princes during their exile. He offered 
 the profits of this affair, to him purely political, to 
 those who would put up the necessary capital. The 
 usurer did not want to part with the money but just 
 as the purchase of credits took place, and wished to 
 have them examined by an expert representing him. 
 Usurers trust nobody, they want security, with them 
 opportunity is everything: icy cold when they have 
 no need of a man, they are artful and kindly dis- 
 posed when they want to use him. Du Tillet knew 
 of the important part played on change in Paris by 
 the Werbrusts and the Gigonnets, discounters to 
 the trade of the Rues Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin; 
 by Palma, the banker of the Faubourg Poissonniere, 
 nearly always interested with Gobseck. He ac- 
 cordingly offered cash security bearing interest and 
 required that these gentlemen use in their money- 
 dealings the funds that he placed at their disposal: 
 he thus provided himself something to depend upon. 
 He accompanied Monsieur Clement Chardin des 
 Lupeaulx on a journey to Germany that lasted 
 during the Hundred-Days, and returned at the 
 second Restoration, having increased the elements 
 of his fortune more than his fortune itself amounted 
 to. He had won his way into the secrets of the 
 shrewdest calculators of Paris, he had won the 
 friendship of the man whose agent he was, for this 
 skilful thimble-rigger had revealed to him the ways
 
 IN HIS GLORY 91 
 
 and jurisprudence of politics in high places. Du 
 Tillet was one of those spirits to whom a nod is as 
 good as a wink, he completed his education during 
 this journey. On his return he found Madame 
 Roguin faithful. As for the poor notary, he was 
 awaiting Ferdinand with as much impatience as his 
 wife showed, for the Dutch Beauty had ruined him 
 once more. Du Tillet questioned the Dutch Beauty, 
 and did not find an outlay equivalent to the sums 
 squandered. Du Tillet then discovered the secret 
 that Sarah Gobseck had so carefully concealed from 
 him, her unbridled passion for Maxime de Trailles, 
 whose start in his career of vice and debauchery 
 told what he was, one of those political vagabonds 
 necessary to every good government, and rendered 
 insatiable by gambling. In making this discovery, 
 Du Tillet understood Gobseck's obduracy towards 
 his grand-niece, in these circumstances Banker Du 
 Tillet, for he had become a banker, strenuously 
 advised Roguin to provide for a rainy day, to engage 
 his richest clients in a matter in which he could keep 
 large sums to himself if he were doomed to failure on 
 resuming the banking game. After some rises and 
 falls, profitable only to Du Tillet and Madame 
 Roguin, the notary at last heard the knell of his 
 discomfiture. His agony was then turned to advan- 
 tage by his best friend. Du Tillet invented the 
 speculation in relation to the land situated around the 
 Madeleine. Naturally the hundred thousand francs 
 deposited by Birotteau with Roguin, awaiting an 
 investment, were entrusted to Du Tillet, who, as he
 
 92 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 wanted to ruin the perfumer, gave Roguin to under- 
 stand that he was running less risk by catching his 
 closest friends in his net. 
 
 " A friend," he said to him, " is lenient with you 
 even in his wrath." 
 
 Few persons now know how little a square yard of 
 the land around the Madeleine would bring at that 
 time, but the value of that land was going to advance 
 far beyond what it was at the time, and necessarily 
 so, because of the need of finding investors who 
 would take advantage of the opportunity; now, Du 
 Tillet wanted to be in a position to reap the benefit 
 without the losses of a long-term speculation. In 
 other words, his plan consisted in so handling the 
 affair as to have it regarded as a corpse that he 
 knew he could resuscitate. In such case the Gob- 
 seeks, the Palmas, the Werbrusts and the Gigonnets 
 naturally lent a hand to one another; but Du Tillet 
 was not intimate enough with them to ask their aid; 
 moreover, he was so anxious to conceal his hand, 
 while at the same time managing the affair, that he 
 could reap the benefit of the theft without incurring 
 blame for it; accordingly he felt the necessity of 
 making use of one of those living puppets called 
 straw men in commercial language. His supposed 
 gambler at the Bourse seemed to him fit to become 
 his scape-goat, and he usurped divine right by 
 creating a man. Out of a former commercial trav- 
 eler, devoid of both means and capacity, except 
 that of talking indefinitely on all sorts of subjects 
 while saying nothing, entirely without money, but
 
 IN HIS GLORY 93 
 
 capable of understanding a part and playing it 
 without spoiling the piece, full of the rarest honor, 
 that is to say, able to keep a secret and to allow 
 himself to be dishonored for the benefit of his em- 
 ployer, Du Tillet made a banker who undertook and 
 directed the greatest enterprises; the head of the 
 Claparon house. Charles Claparon's destiny was 
 to be one day delivered over to the Jews and the 
 Pharisees, if the venture launched by Du Tillet 
 should end in failure, and Claparon knew it. But 
 for a poor devil that in melancholy mood was tramp- 
 ing the boulevards with a future of forty sous in his 
 pocket when his comrade Du Tillet met him, the 
 small share that was to be turned over to him in 
 each transaction was an Eldorado. Thus his friend- 
 ship, his devotedness to Du Tillet, corroborated by 
 an unreflecting gratitude, stimulated by the needs 
 of a licentious and desultory life, made him say 
 Amen to everything. Then, after having sold his 
 honor, he saw him take risks so prudently that he 
 at last became attached to his former comrade as a 
 dog to its master. Claparon was a very ugly poodle, 
 but ever ready to do the Curtius leap. In the 
 present combination he was to represent half of the 
 purchasers of the land, as Cesar Birotteau would 
 represent the other half. The notes that Claparon 
 would receive from Birotteau would be discounted 
 by one of the usurers whose name Du Tillet could 
 use so as to precipitate Birotteau into the abyss of 
 bankruptcy, when Roguin would run away with 
 his money. Those appointed to adjudicate the
 
 94 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 bankruptcy would act in accordance with Du Tiliet's 
 inspirations, and the latter, in possession of the 
 money given by the perfumer and his creditor under 
 different names, would have the land put up at 
 auction and buy it in for half its value, paying for it 
 with Roguin's capital and the dividend of the bank- 
 ruptcy. The notary put his finger in the pie, think- 
 ing he would get a good part of the perfumer's 
 valuable spoils and those of the people interested 
 with him; but the man to whose discretion he was 
 giving himself up would, and did, take the lion's 
 share. Roguin, not having it in his power to prose- 
 cute Du Tillet in any court, was satisfied with the 
 bone given him to gnaw, from month to month, in 
 his retreat in Switzerland, where he found beauties 
 at a discount. Circumstances, and not the medita- 
 tions of a writer of tragedy inventing an intrigue, 
 had begotten this horrible scheme. Hate without 
 the desire for revenge is a grain fallen on granite; 
 but the vengeance vowed against Cesar by Du Tillet 
 was one of the most natural of developments, or we 
 must deny the quarrel between the accursed angels 
 and the angels of light. Du Tillet could not without 
 great inconvenience assassinate the only man in 
 Paris who knew him to be guilty of a domestic 
 theft, but he could throw him in the mire and 
 annihilate him in a way that would make his testi- 
 mony impossible. For a long time his vengeance 
 had germinated in his heart without flowering, for 
 the most spiteful people do very little planning at 
 Paris; life is too hurried there, too excited, there
 
 IN HIS GLORY Q5 
 
 are too many unforeseen accidents; yet these per- 
 petual oscillations, if they do not allow of premedita- 
 tion, give most timely aid to a thought stowed 
 away at the bottom of the politic heart that is 
 strong enough to lie in wait for favorable circum- 
 stances. When Roguin took Du Tillet into his 
 confidence, the clerk derived therefrom a vague 
 idea of the possibility of ruining Cesar, and he 
 made no mistake. On the point of abandoning his 
 idol, the notary drank his love-potion from the 
 broken cup, went every day to the Champs-Elysees 
 and returned home in the early morning. And so 
 the distrustful Madame Cesar was right. As soon 
 as a man has resolved to play the part that Du 
 Tillet had assigned to Roguin, he acquires the talents 
 of the greatest comedian, he has the eye of a lynx 
 and the penetration of a seer, he knows how to 
 mesmerize his dupe; and so the notary had seen 
 Birotteau long before Birotteau saw him, and when 
 the perfumer looked at him he had already reached 
 out his hand from afar. 
 
 " I have just been drawing up the will of an 
 important personage who has not a week to live," 
 he said with the most natural air in the world; " but 
 they treated me like a village doctor, they sent for 
 me with a carriage, and I am returning on foot." 
 
 These words dispelled a slight cloud of distrust 
 that had darkened the perfumer's brow, and which 
 Roguin noticed; and so the notary took good care 
 not to be the first to speak of the matter of the land, 
 for he wanted to give the finishing blow to his victim.
 
 96 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "After wills, marriage-contracts, such is life," 
 said Birotteau. "And as regards that, when shall 
 we marry the Madeleine, eh! eh! old man Roguin?" 
 he added, tapping him on the stomach. 
 
 Among men the most chaste of the middle class 
 pretend to seem wanton. 
 
 "Well, if not to-day, never," replied the notary 
 with a diplomatic air. "We are afraid lest the affair 
 may be noised abroad, I have already been urgently 
 pressed by two of my richest clients, who want to 
 get into this speculation. And so it is a case of take 
 or leave. Immediately after midday I will draw up 
 the deeds, and you will have the privilege of being 
 in it only until one o'clock. Good-by. I am going 
 at once to look over the draft that Xandrot was to 
 have made out for me during the night." 
 
 "All right, so be it, you have my word," said 
 Birotteau running after the notary and clasping his 
 hand. " Take the hundred thousand francs that 
 were to serve as my daughter's dowry." 
 
 " Very well," said Roguin as he moved away. 
 
 Whilst Birotteau was returning to little Popinot 
 he experienced a violent warmth in his entrails, his 
 diaphragm became contracted, his ears tingled. 
 
 " What ails you, sir?" asked the clerk, seeing his 
 master's pale countenance. 
 
 "Ah! my boy, I have just concluded a great 
 stroke of business with a single word, no one is 
 master of his emotions in such a case. Moreover, 
 you are not a stranger to it. And so I have brought 
 you here to talk of it more at ease, as no one will
 
 IN HIS GLORY 97 
 
 hear us. Your aunt is in straitened circum- 
 stances; iiow, then, has she lost her money? tell 
 me." 
 
 "My uncle and aunt, sir, have had their money 
 at Monsieur de Nucingen's, they have been com- 
 pelled to take in repayment stock in the Wortschin 
 mines, which do not yet pay any dividend, and it is 
 hard at their age to live on hope." 
 
 " But on what are they living?" 
 
 " They have done me the pleasure to accept my 
 salary." 
 
 " Good, good, Anselme," said the perfumer, letting 
 a tear steal from his eyes, " you are worthy of the 
 attachment that I have for you. And so you are 
 going to receive a high reward for your application 
 to my business." 
 
 While using these words the merchant grew as 
 much bigger in his own estimation as in Popinot's; he 
 gave them that middle-class and unaffected emphasis 
 that was an expression of his sham superiority. 
 
 "What? you have seen into my passion for ?" 
 
 "For whom?" asked the perfumer. 
 
 "For Mademoiselle Cesarine." 
 
 "Ah! boy, you are quite bold," exclaimed Birot- 
 teau. " But keep your secret very close, I promise 
 you I will forget it, and you will leave my house to- 
 morrow. I do not want you in it; in your place, 
 the deuce! the deuce! I would have done the same. 
 She is so pretty!" 
 
 "Ah! sir!" said the clerk, who felt his shirt moist, 
 from his excessive perspiration. 
 7
 
 98 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " My boy, this affair is not the matter of a day : 
 Cesarine is her own mistress, and her mother has 
 too her ideas. So mind your own business, dry 
 your eyes, keep your heart in check, and let us 
 never speak of it again. I would not be ashamed 
 to have you for a son-in-law: the nephew of Monsieur 
 Popinot, judge in the committing court ; the nephew 
 of the Ragons, you have the right to go your way 
 quite as much as any one else; but there are huts, 
 fors, ifs ! What a devil of a dog you let loose on 
 me in a business conversation ! Here, sit down on 
 this chair, and let the lover make way for the clerk. 
 Popinot, are you a brave man ?" he asked, looking 
 at his clerk. " Do you feel you have the courage 
 to contend against some one stronger than yourself, 
 in a hand-to-hand combat — ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " To keep up a long, a dangerous fight — ?" 
 
 "What is it all about?" 
 
 "About freezing out Macassar oil!" said Birot- 
 teau, striking the attitude of one of Plutarch's 
 heroes. " Let us not deceive ourselves, the enemy 
 is strong, well intrenched, quite formidable. Macas- 
 sar oil has been well managed. The idea is clever. 
 The square vials are original in form. For my pro- 
 ject I have thought of making ours triangular; but I 
 would prefer, after mature reflection, small thin 
 glass bottles in a reed casing; they would have a 
 mysterious appearance, and consumers like what 
 puzzles them." 
 
 "That is expensive," said Popinot. "It would
 
 IN HIS GLORY 99 
 
 be necessary to get up everything as cheap as possi- 
 ble, so as to make large shipments to the retailers." 
 
 "Good, my boy, these are the true principles. 
 Think well on it, Macassar oil will defend itself! It 
 is specious; it has an attractive name. It is offered 
 as a foreign importation, and we will have the mis- 
 fortune of being of our own country. Let us see, 
 Popinot; do you feel yourself strong enough to kill 
 Macassar? In the first place, you will ship it abroad; 
 it seems that Macassar is really in the Indies; it is 
 more natural, then, to send the French product to 
 the Indians than to send them what they think they 
 have been furnishing to us. You take hold of the 
 dealers! But we must make a fight abroad and in 
 the departments! Now, Macassar oil has been well 
 advertised, we must not deceive ourselves as to its 
 power, it is pushed, the public know it." 
 
 "I will freeze it out!" exclaimed Popinot, his 
 eyes lighting up. 
 
 "How?" asked Birotteau. "That is only the 
 ardor of youth. Then listen to me until I have done." 
 
 Anselme assumed the attitude of a soldier present- 
 ing arms to a Marshal of France. 
 
 " Popinot, I have invented an oil to make the 
 hair grow, to restore power to the scalp, to preserve 
 the color of the hair of both men and women. This 
 essence will be no less successful than my Paste 
 and Water; but I do not want to work out this secret 
 by myself, I am thinking of retiring from business. 
 It is you, my boy, who will put on the market 
 my Comagenoiis Oil — from the word coma, a Latin
 
 lOO CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 word that means hair, as I have been told by Monsieur 
 Alibert, physician to the king; this word is to be 
 found in the tragedy of Berenice, into which Racine 
 introduces a king of Comagene, the lover of that 
 pretty queen so famous for her hair, which lover, 
 no doubt from flattery, gave this name to his king- 
 dom. What a mind these great geniuses have! they 
 go into the most minute details." — 
 
 Little Popinot kept his serious look while listening 
 to this ridiculous parenthesis, evidently spoken for 
 him, who was fairly well educated. 
 
 "Anselme! I have looked to you to found a 
 high-class drug house in the Rue des Lombards," 
 said Birotteau. " I will be your silent partner, and 
 I will guarantee you the money to start with. After 
 the comagenous oil, we will try vanilla essence and 
 mint spirit. Finally, we will take up the drug busi- 
 ness to revolutionize it, selling its concentrated pro- 
 ducts instead of in the natural state. Ambitious 
 young man, are you satisfied?" 
 
 Anselme could not reply, so overcome was he, 
 but his eyes, filled with tears, answered for him. 
 This offer seemed to him to have been dictated by 
 a paternal indulgence that said to him: "Deserve 
 Cesarine by becoming rich and well thought of." 
 
 "Sir," he finally replied, taking Birotteau's emo- 
 tion for astonishment, " I also will succeed!" 
 
 "Just as I did," exclaimed the perfumer, "I did 
 not say anything else. If you have not my daughter, 
 you will always have a fortune. Well, boy, what 
 ails you now?"
 
 IN HIS GLORY lOl 
 
 " Let me hope that in acquiring the one 1 will 
 obtain the other." 
 
 " I cannot keep you from hoping, my friend," 
 said Birotteau, touched by Anselme's tone. 
 
 "Well, sir, may I begin to-day to take steps 
 toward finding a shop so that I may start in as soon 
 as possible?" 
 
 "Yes, my boy. To-morrow we will go and shut 
 ourselves up together in the factory. Before going 
 into the neighborhood of the Rue des Lombards you 
 will call at Livingston's and see whether my hy- 
 draulic press will be ready for use to-morrow. This 
 evening we will go at dinner-time to the illustrious 
 and good Monsieur Vauquelin's to consult with him. 
 This chemist has been engaged quite recently on the 
 composition of the hair, he has been investigating as 
 to what its coloring substance is, whence it comes, 
 what is the texture of the hair. There is everything 
 in that, Popinot. You will know my secret, and 
 then there will be question only of using it intel- 
 ligently. Before going to Livingston's stop in at 
 Fieri Benard's. My boy. Monsieur Vauquelin's 
 disinterestedness is one of the great griefs of my life: 
 it is impossible to get him to accept anything. 
 Fortunately, I have learned through Chiffreville that 
 he wanted a Dresden yirgin, engraved by a certain 
 Muller, and, after two years' correspondence in 
 Germany, Benard has discovered it on China-paper, 
 a proof before the letter: it costs, my boy, fifteen 
 hundred francs. To-day our benefactor will see 
 it in his ante-chamber while showing us out, for
 
 102 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 it will be framed, you will make sure of that. My 
 wife and I will thus be recalled to his memory, for, 
 as regards gratitude, we have been praying to God 
 for him every day for sixteen years. I will never 
 forget him, not 1 ; but, Popinot, buried as they are in 
 science, scholars forget everything, wife, friends, 
 those under obligation to them. As for us, our 
 limited intelligence allows us at least to have a warm 
 heart. That is a consolation for not being a great 
 man. These gentlemen of the Institute are all 
 brains, as you will see; you never see them at 
 church. Monsieur Vauquelin is always in his office 
 or in his laboratory; I like to believe that he thinks 
 of God while analyzing His works. Our under- 
 standing is, then: 1 will put up the money, I will let 
 you into my secret, we will go halves, without there 
 being any need of papers. May we succeed! we will 
 tune our pipes. Hurry up, young man; as for me, I 
 am going about my business. Listen, then, Popinot, 
 three weeks from now I will give a great ball; get a 
 dress suit, come to it like a man in trade already 
 well-established — ." 
 
 This last touch of kindness so moved Popinot that 
 he took hold of Cesar's big hand and kissed it. The 
 good man had flattered the lover by this confidence, 
 and folk so smitten are capable of anything. 
 
 "Poor youth," said Birotteau on seeing him run 
 across the Tuileries, "if Cesarine only loved him! 
 but he is lame, his hair is the color of red brick, and 
 young ladies are so peculiar! I hardly think that 
 Cesarine — And then her mother wants to see her a
 
 IN HIS GLORY 103 
 
 notary's wife. Alexandre Crottat will make her 
 rich: riches makes everything bearable, while there 
 is no happiness that does not give way before 
 poverty, in fine, 1 have resolved to let my daughter 
 be her own mistress until she does something 
 foolish."
 
 * 
 
 Birotteau's next-door neighbor was a small dealer 
 in umbrellas, parasols and canes, named Cayron, 
 from Languedoc, who was getting along very poorly 
 and whom Birotteau had already obliged on several 
 occasions. Cayron did not ask more than to be 
 confined to his shop and to give up to the rich per- 
 fumer the two rooms on the second floor, and so 
 reducing his rent. 
 
 "Well, neighbor," said Birotteau to him in a 
 familiar way, as he entered the umbrella dealer's 
 place, " my wife consents to the enlargement of our 
 quarters ! If you wish we will go to Monsieur 
 Molineux's at eleven o'clock." 
 
 "My dear Monsieur Birotteau," replied the um- 
 brella dealer, " I have never asked you for anything 
 on account of this concession, but you know that a 
 good business man ought to make money out of 
 everything." 
 
 "The deuce ! the deuce! " replied the perfumer, 
 " I haven't money by the thousand or even by the 
 hundred. I don't know whether my architect, 
 whom I am expecting, will find the thing practicable, 
 ' Before coming to a conclusion,' he said to me, ' let 
 us find out whether your floors are on the same 
 level. Then Monsieur Molineux must consent to let 
 us make an opening in the wall, and is the wall a 
 party one?' In fine, I must turn the stairway 
 
 (105)
 
 I06 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 around in my house so as to change the landing in 
 order to get the floors on the same level. That 
 entails considerable expense, and I do not want to 
 ruin myself." 
 
 "Oh ! sir," said the Southerner, " when you will 
 be ruined the sun shall have come to sleep with the 
 earth, and they shall have offspring." 
 
 Birotteau stroked his chin as he raised himself on 
 tip-toe and then fell back on his heels. 
 
 "Moreover," resumed Cayron, "I ask you for 
 nothing else but to take these notes from me — ." 
 
 And he handed him a little bundle to the value of 
 five thousand francs made up of sixteen notes. 
 
 "Ah! said the perfumer while he fingered the 
 notes, ''little driblets, two months, three months — ." 
 
 " Take them from me at six per cent only," said 
 the dealer with an air of humility. 
 
 "Am I in the usury business?" remarked the per- 
 fumer in a tone of reproach. 
 
 " Good Heavens, sir, I have been to see your old 
 clerk, Du Tillet; he did not want them at any price, 
 no doubt to find out what I would consent to lose," 
 
 " I do not recognize these signatures," said the 
 perfumer. 
 
 " But we have such funny names in the cane and 
 umbrella business, they are hawkers!" 
 
 " Very well, I do not say that I will take all, but I 
 will always accommodate you for those of the shorter 
 terms." 
 
 " For the thousand francs at four months, do not 
 let me have to run after the blood-suckers that rob
 
 IN HIS GLORY 107 
 
 US of the best part of our profits, take them all from 
 me, sir, I have so little recourse to discount, 1 have 
 no credit, that is what is killing us poor little 
 retailers." 
 
 " Come, then, I accept your driblets, Celestine 
 will pay you. Be ready at eleven o'clock. Here 
 comes my architect. Monsieur Grindot," added the 
 perfumer, noticing the approach of the young man 
 with whom he had been the evening before to Mon- 
 sieur de la Billardiere's. "Contrary to the habit of 
 men of talent, you are punctual, sir," Cesar said to 
 him, putting on his best commercial airs. "If punc- 
 tuality, according to an expression of the king, 
 and he is a man of brains as well as a great politician, 
 is the politeness of kings, it is also the fortune of 
 merchants. Time, time is gold, especially to you 
 artists. Architecture is the uniting of all the arts, if 
 1 may allow myself to say so. Let us not go in 
 through the shop," he added, pointing to the imita- 
 tion gate to his house. 
 
 Four years previously Monsieur Grindot had won 
 the Grand prix for architecture, and he was now 
 returning from Rome after a sojourn there of three 
 years at the expense of the State. In Italy the 
 young artist thought of art; at Paris he thought of a 
 fortune. The Government can alone furnish the 
 millions that an architect needs to build up his glory. 
 On returning from Rome it is so natural to believe 
 one's self a Fontaine or a Percier that every ambitious 
 architect inclines towards the party in power: the 
 Liberal student, having become a Royalist, was
 
 I08 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 trying then to win the protection of influential folk. 
 When a Grand prix man is behaving thus, his com- 
 rades call him an intriguer. The young architect 
 had two courses before him: either to serve the per- 
 fumer or to bleed him. But Birotteau, the mayor's 
 deputy, Birotteau, the future owner of half the land 
 around the Madeleine, where he would sooner or 
 later build a handsome section, was a man to be 
 courted, and accordingly Grindot sacrificed present 
 gain for benefits to come. He listened patiently to 
 the plans, the repetitions, the ideas of one of those 
 middle-class men, a constant target for the artist's 
 thrusts and pleasantries, the eternal object of his 
 contempt, and followed the perfumer with nods of his 
 head in approval of his ideas. When the perfumer 
 had fully explained everything, the architect tried to 
 sum up his plan for him. 
 
 "You have three windows looking out on the 
 street, and in addition the dark window on the stair- 
 way alongside the landing. You add to these four 
 windows the two that are on the same level in the 
 adjoining house and you want the stairway turned 
 round so as to have all the rooms on the same level 
 on the street side." 
 
 "You have understood me perfectly," said the 
 astonished perfumer. 
 
 " To carry out your plan we must light the new 
 stairway from above, and have a porter's lodge 
 under the supports." 
 
 "Supports—?" 
 
 " Yes, that is the part on which rests — ."
 
 IN HIS GLORY IO9 
 
 " I understand, sir." 
 
 *' As regards your apartments, leave me free to 
 arrange and decorate them. 1 mean to make them 
 worthy — ," 
 
 " Worthy! that is the word, sir." 
 
 " What time do you give me to make this improve- 
 ment?" 
 
 " Twenty days." 
 
 " How much do you want to spend as regards the 
 workmen?" asked Grindot. 
 
 " But how much may these repairs amount to?" 
 
 " An architect figures on a new building almost to 
 the very centime," the young man replied; " but as 
 I do not know what it is to deal with a man of the 
 middle-class, — I beg your pardon, sir, it was a slip, — 
 I ought to tell you beforehand that it is impossible to 
 figure on repairs and alterations. It would take me 
 at least a week to make an approximate estimate. 
 Give me your confidence: you will have a charming 
 stairway lighted from above, adorned with a pretty 
 vestibule leading to the street, and under the 
 supports — ." 
 
 " Always those supports!" 
 
 " Do not worry about that, I will make room 
 there for a small porter's lodge. Your apartments 
 will be studied and most carefully restored. Yes, 
 sir, I am looking to art, and not fortune! Before all, 
 am I not to have myself spoken about in order to 
 get there? In my opinion, the best way is not to 
 get at loggerheads with the furnishers, to get fine 
 effects cheap."
 
 no CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " With such ideas, young man," said Birotteau in 
 a patronizing tone, "you will succeed," 
 
 "Also," continued Grindot, "treat directly with 
 your masons, painters, locksmiths, carpenters, 
 joiners. For my part, I undertake to adjust their 
 bills. Allow me only two thousand francs as an 
 honorarium, it will be money well spent. Leave me 
 master of the place to-morrow at noon, and tell me 
 who your workmen are." 
 
 "What may the cost be, as near as you can 
 guess?" asked Birotteau, 
 
 "From ten to twelve thousand francs," said 
 Grindot, "But I am not counting on the furniture, 
 for you will no doubt renew it. You will give me 
 your upholsterer's address, as I must have an 
 understanding with him in order to assort the colors, 
 so as to have the job finished in good taste," 
 
 "Monsieur Braschon, Rue Saint-Antoine, has my 
 orders," said the perfumer, assuming the air of a 
 duke. 
 
 The architect wrote the address on one of those 
 little souvenir cards that always come from a pretty 
 woman, 
 
 "Come," said Birotteau, "I trust to you, sir. 
 Only wait until I have arranged the surrender of the 
 lease of the two adjoining rooms and obtained per- 
 mission to break through the wall," 
 
 " Send me word by note this evening," said the 
 architect, " I will have to spend the night drawing 
 up my plans, and we would much rather work for 
 the middle class than for the King of Prussia, that
 
 IN HIS GLORY III 
 
 is, for ourselves. I always go and take the measure- 
 ments, heights, dimensions of the tableaux, size of 
 the windows — ." 
 
 "We will get there on the day appointed," 
 remarked Birotteau; "if not, nothing." 
 
 " We must, indeed," replied the architect. "The 
 workmen will spend all night at it, processes for 
 drying the painting will be used; but don't let the 
 contractors get into you, always ask them the price 
 in advance, and put your agreements on paper!" 
 
 " Paris is the only place in the world where one 
 can make such magic strokes," said Birotteau, as he 
 indulged in an Asiatic gesture worthy of The Arabian 
 Nights. " You will do me the honor of coming to 
 my ball, sir. All men of talent do not look with 
 crushing disdain on trade, and you will no doubt see 
 there a scholar of the first order, Monsieur Vauquelin, 
 of the Institute! Then Monsieur de la Billardiere, 
 the Comte de Fontaine, Judge Lebas, president of 
 the tribunal of commerce; magistrates: the Comte de 
 Granville, of the royal court; and Judge Popinot, of 
 the committing court; Judge Camusot, of the tri- 
 bunal of commerce, and Monsieur Cardot, his father- 
 in-law— ; finally, perhaps the Due de Lenoncourt, 
 the king's first gentleman chamberlain. I am bring- 
 ing together a few friends as much — to celebrate 
 the deliverance of the territory — as to give a feast 
 in honor of my — promotion to the Order of the 
 Legion of Honor — " 
 
 Grindot made a strange gesture. 
 
 " Perhaps— I have made myself worthy of this —
 
 112 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 distinguished — and — royal — favor by sitting in the 
 consular court and by fighting for the Bourbons on 
 the steps of Saint-Roch on the thirteenth Vende- 
 miaire, where I was wounded by Napoleon. These 
 titles—" 
 
 Constance, in her morning costume, came out of 
 Cesarine's bed-room, where she had dressed; her 
 first glance at once cut short her husband's rhapsody, 
 and he tried to frame an ordinary phrase that would 
 modestly tell his neighbor of his greatness. 
 
 " Here, dear, this is Monsieur de Grindot, a dis- 
 tinguished young man who is possessed of great 
 talent. The gentleman is the architect recom- 
 mended to us by Monsieur de la Billardiere, to direct 
 our little work here." 
 
 The perfumer tried to give a hint to the architect 
 without his wife observing him, by putting his finger 
 to his lips at the word little, and the artist took it. 
 
 " Constance, the gentleman is going to take the 
 measurements, the altitudes. Let him do it, pet," 
 said Birotteau, as he shot out into the street. 
 
 "Will it be very expensive?" Constance asked 
 of the architect. 
 
 "No, madame, six thousand francs, as close as 
 can be guessed — " 
 
 " As close as can be guessed!" exclaimed Madame 
 Birotteau. " I entreat you, sir, do not begin with- 
 out an estimate and contracts signed. I know the 
 ways of those gentlemen, the contractors: six 
 thousand means twenty thousand. We are not in a 
 position to be foolish. I beg of you, sir, though my
 
 MADAME AND CESARINE BIROTTEAU 
 
 ''Ah ! viy daugJitcr ! your father is ruining him- 
 self! He has engaged an architect ivitJi imistacJies 
 and an imperial, and who speaks of building monu- 
 ments ! He is going to throw tJie house out of the 
 windows and build us a Louvre. Cesar is never 
 behind in folly ; he spoke to me of his plan last 
 night, and he is carrying it 02it this morning. 
 
 "Bah ! niaiiima, let papa do it, God has ahvays 
 protected Jam',' said Cesarine.
 
 'i^/iy:<f.A/^tU- /<l>«',^ ','/. ''
 
 IN HIS GLORY 113 
 
 husband is master in his own house, give him time 
 to reflect." 
 
 " Madame, the deputy has instructed me to have 
 the work finished in twenty days, and, if we delay, 
 you would expose yourself to contracting expense 
 without getting the result." 
 
 " There is expense and expense," said the pretty 
 wife of the perfumer. 
 
 "Well! madame, do you think it will be any 
 glory to an architect who wants to build monuments 
 to adorn a suite of apartments? I condescend to 
 attend to this job only to oblige Monsieur de la 
 Billardiere, and, if I frighten you — " 
 
 He made a movement as if to retire. 
 
 "All right, all right, sir," said Constance as she 
 went back into her room, where she laid her head 
 on Cesarine's shoulder. "Ah! my daughter! your 
 father is ruining himself! He has engaged an archi- 
 tect with mustaches and an imperial, and who speaks 
 of building monuments! He is going to throw the 
 house out of the windows and build us a Louvre. 
 Cesar is never behind in folly; he spoke to me of 
 his plan last night, and he is carrying it out this 
 morning," 
 
 "Bah! mamma, let papa do it, God has always 
 protected him," said Cesarine, embracing her mother 
 and sitting at the piano to show the architect that 
 the perfumer's daughter was not a stranger to the 
 fine arts. 
 
 When the architect entered the bed-room he was 
 surprised at Cesarine's beauty, and stood as if 
 8
 
 114 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 almost forbidden to enter. Having left her little 
 room in morning dishabille, Cesarine, fresh and 
 rosy as a young girl is rosy and fresh at eighteen, 
 fair and slender, with blue eyes, presented to the 
 artist's gaze that elasticity, so rare in Paris, which 
 makes the most delicate flesh rebound, and the shade 
 of a color adored by painters, the blue of the veins 
 whose network palpitates in the clearness of the com- 
 plexion. Though living in the lymphatic atmosphere 
 of a Parisian shop, where the atmosphere is not 
 easily renewed, where the sun seldom penetrates, 
 her habits gave her the advantages of the open-air 
 life of a Roman Transteverina. Abundant hair — 
 growing like her father's and arranged so as to dis- 
 play a well-set neck — flowed in tresses as well cared 
 for as those of all shop-girls who desire in matters 
 of toilet to be remarked for the most English of detail. 
 This pretty girl's beauty was neither the beauty of 
 an English lady, nor that of a French duchess, but 
 the rotund and rosy beauty of Rubens' Flemings. 
 Cesarine had her father's turned-up nose, but made 
 significant of sprightliness by the fineness of the 
 modeling, like that of the essentially French noses 
 in which Largilliere was successful. Her skin, 
 like a stuff full and strong, told of a virgin's vitality. 
 She had her mother's fine brow, but lit up by the 
 serenity of a girl free from care. Her blue eyes, 
 bathed in a rich fluid, expressed the tender grace 
 of a happy blonde. If good luck had deprived her 
 head of that poesy which painters wish to give 
 absolutely to their compositions in making them a 
 
 I
 
 IN HIS GLORY I15 
 
 little too pensive, the vague physical melancholy 
 that marks young girls who have never left the 
 maternal wing imprinted on her then a sort of ideal. 
 Despite the fineness of her lineaments, she was 
 strongly built: her feet betrayed her father's peasant 
 origin, for her weak points consisted in a defect of 
 race and perhaps also in her ruddy hands, the mark 
 of a purely middle-class life. She must sooner or 
 later fall into a state of corpulency. After seeing 
 some fashionable young women, she went so far as 
 to adopt a taste for the toilet, some heady airs, a 
 manner of talking and moving affected by the 
 well-bred woman and turned all the young clerks' 
 heads, to whom she seemed quite an elegant girl. 
 Popinot had sworn never to have any one else 
 for wife, than Cesarine. This fluid blonde that 
 a look seemed to penetrate, ready to melt into tears 
 at a word of reproach, could alone give to him the 
 feeling of masculine superiority. This charming 
 girl -ifispired love without leaving time to examine 
 whether it had enough spirit to render it durable; 
 but of what good is that in Paris called spirit, in 
 a class in which the chief element of happiness is 
 common sense and virtue.? Morally Cesarine was 
 her mother somewhat perfected by the superfluities 
 of education: she loved music, drew in black crayon 
 the Virgin of the Chair, read the works of Madame 
 Cotton and Riccoboni, Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, 
 Fenelon, Racine. She never appeared at her mother's 
 side behind the counter except for a few moments 
 before sitting down at table, or to take her place on
 
 Il6 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 rare occasions. Both her father and her mother, 
 like all those upstarts eager to cultivate their 
 children's ingratitude by putting them above them- 
 selves, took pleasure in adoring Cesarine, who, 
 fortunately, had the virtues of the middle-class and 
 did not abuse their weakness. 
 
 Madame Birotteau followed the architect in a rest- 
 less and anxious way, regarding with dread and 
 pointing out to her daughter the whimsical move- 
 ments of the yard-stick, the cane of architects and 
 contractors, with which Grindot was taking his 
 measurements. She found in these wand-like 
 movements a conjuring air of very bad omen, she 
 wished the walls were less high, the rooms not so 
 large, and dared not question the young man on 
 the effects of this sorcery. 
 
 " Make your mind easy, Madame, I will not carry 
 off anything," said the artist, smiling. 
 
 Cesarine could not help laughing. 
 
 " Sir," said Constance in a supplicating tone, not 
 noticing the architect's retort, "go economically, 
 and, later on, we will be able to recompense 
 you — " 
 
 Before going to Monsieur Molineux's, the owner 
 of the adjoining house, Cesar went to Roguin's to 
 attach his private signature to the document Alex- 
 andre Crottat was to have prepared for him for that 
 lease. On leaving, Birotteau saw Du Tillet at the 
 window of Roguin's private office. Though his 
 former clerk's intrigue with the notary's wife made 
 the meeting with Du Tillet rather natural at the
 
 IN HIS GLORY II7 
 
 time of making out the papers regarding the land, 
 Birotteau felt ill at ease on account of it, in spite of 
 his extreme confidence. Du Tillet's animated ap- 
 pearance bespoke a discussion. 
 
 " Could he be in the business.?" he asked him- 
 self by reason of his commercial prudence. 
 
 The suspicion passed like a flash through his 
 mind. He turned back, saw Madame Roguin, and 
 then the banker's presence no longer seemed to 
 justify his suspicion. 
 
 " But, suppose Constance were right.'"' he asked 
 himself. " Am I so stupid as to listen to women's 
 ideas? I will, moreover, mention it to my uncle this 
 morning. From the Cour Batave, where this Mon- 
 sieur Molineux lives, to the Rue des Bourdonnais, is 
 only a step." 
 
 A distrustful observer, a man of trade who in 
 his career had met some cheats, would have been 
 saved; but Birotteau's antecedents, the incapacity 
 of his mind, ill adapted to tracing the chain of induc- 
 tions by which a superior man arrives at causes, all 
 led to his destruction. He found the umbrella dealer 
 in full dress, and was going with him to the owner's, 
 when Virginia, his cook, took hold of his arm. 
 
 " Sir, Madame does not want you to go any 
 further — " 
 
 "Let us go," exclaimed Birotteau, "women's 
 ideas once more!" 
 
 " — without taking your cup of coffee that is 
 waiting for you." 
 
 " Ah! true. Neighbor," said Birotteau to Cayron,
 
 Il8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " I have so many things in my head that I do not 
 listen to my stomach. Do me the favor of going on 
 ahead. We will meet at Monsieur Molineux's gate, 
 unless you go up to explain the matter to him. In 
 this way we will lose less time." 
 
 Monsieur Molineux was a grotesque little landlord, 
 such as is to be found only in Paris, as a certain 
 lichen grows only in Iceland. This comparison is so 
 much the more correct as that man partook of a 
 mixed nature, of an animo-vegetable kingdom that a 
 new Mercier might make out of the cryptogams that 
 grow, flourish or die on, in or under the plastered 
 walls of various strange and unhealthy houses to 
 which these beings prefer to resort. At first sight 
 this human plant, umbelliferous, with the tubulated 
 blue helmet that crowned it, with a stem involved 
 in greenish pantaloons, and bulbous roots wrapped 
 in fringed pumps, presented a whitish and dull ap- 
 pearance that certainly betrayed nothing poisonous. 
 In this odd product you would have recognized the 
 shareholder above all else, believing all the news 
 that the periodical press baptizes with its ink, and 
 who has said everything in saying: "Read the 
 newspaper!" The middle-class man essentially 
 fond of order, and ever in moral revolt against power, 
 which he nevertheless always obeys, a weak crea- 
 ture in the mass and ferocious in detail, obdurate as 
 a constable when it is a question of his rights, and 
 giving fresh chickweed to the birds or fish-bones to 
 his cat, interrupting a receipt for rent to teach a 
 canary, distrustful as a jailer, but investing his
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 19 
 
 money in a doubtful venture, and then trying to 
 mai<e up his loss by the grossest avarice. The 
 power for mischief of this hybrid flower was revealed 
 in fact only by dealing with it; to be felt, its 
 nauseating bitterness needed the decoction of some 
 transaction or other in which its interests were found 
 mingled with those of men. Like all Parisians, 
 Molineux felt a need for domination, he craved for 
 that more or less considerable part of sovereignty 
 exercised by each one, and even by a porter, over a 
 larger or smaller number of victims, wife, child, 
 tenant, clerk, horse, dog, or monkey, on which one 
 vents by reflex action the mortifications received in 
 the upper sphere to which one aspires. This tire- 
 some little old man had neither wife, nor child, nor 
 nephew, nor niece; he was too rude to his house- 
 keeper to make a martyr of her, for she shunned all 
 contact by strictly attending to her duties. His 
 tyrannical appetites were accordingly cheated; to 
 satisfy them, he had patiently studied the laws on 
 the contract of renting and on the party wall; he 
 had fathomed the jurisprudence bearing on Paris 
 houses in the infmitesimally small matters of the ins 
 and outs, services, taxes, charges, cleanings. Corpus 
 Christi hangings, drainage pipes, lighting, blocking 
 the public highway and proximity of unhealthy prem- 
 ises. His methods and his activity, all the mind 
 he had went to keep up his condition of landlord to 
 the full war allowance; he had made an amusement 
 of it, and his amusement turned into monomania. 
 He liked to protect citizens against the invasions of
 
 120 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 illegality; but as the causes of complaint were few, 
 his passion had then gone to encompassing his 
 tenants. A tenant became his enemy, his inferior, 
 his subject, his serf. He thought he had a right to 
 his respect, and regarded as a boor him who passed 
 close to him on the stairway without speaking to 
 him. He wrote his bills himself, and sent them at 
 noon on the day on which the rent was due. The 
 tenant in arrears received a summons at a fixed 
 hour. Then the levy costs, the whole judicial 
 cavalry were sent out at once with that rapidity 
 which the manager of more exalted work calls 
 mechanism. Molineux granted neither terms nor 
 delay, his heart was obdurate against the tenant. 
 
 " I will lend you money if you need it," he said 
 to a man who could pay, " but pay me my rent, any 
 delay will entail a loss of interest for which the law 
 does not indemnify us." 
 
 After a long examination of the skipping fancies 
 of tenants who did not act in the normal way, who 
 successively overthrew the institutions of their pre- 
 decessors, no more nor less than dynasties, he 
 drew up a charter for himself, and lived up to it to 
 the letter. Thus, the good man made no repairs; 
 no chimney smoked, his stairs were clean, his ceil- 
 ings white, his cornices above reproach, the floors 
 solid on their joists, the painting satisfactory; the 
 locks were never over three years old, no glass was 
 wanting, there were no cracks, he saw breaks in the 
 floors only when some one had left the place, and 
 on receiving applicants he had the assistance of a
 
 IN HIS GLORY 121 
 
 locksmith and a painter and glazier, very accommo- 
 dating folk, he said. The new tenant was, more- 
 over, free to make improvements; but if an imprudent 
 one renovated his apartments, little Molineux spent 
 night and day thinking of how to dislodge him in 
 order that he might get a new tenant for the freshly- 
 decorated rooms; he lay in ambush for him, awaited 
 him, and heaped up the series of his misdeeds. All 
 the fine points of Parisian legislation on leases he 
 was acquainted with. Litigious and given to writing 
 much, he made drafts of mild and polite letters to his 
 tenants; but beneath his style, as behind his dull 
 and forbidding countenance, he concealed a Shylock 
 soul. He always insisted on six months in advance, 
 credited on the last term of the lease, and the 
 cortege of thorny conditions that he had invented. 
 He investigated as to whether the place was supplied 
 with enough furniture to answer for the rent. When 
 he got a new tenant he submitted his name to the 
 police for their information, for he would not tol- 
 erate certain doings, the slightest hammer stroke 
 annoyed him terribly. Then, when he had to make 
 out a lease, he kept the deed and spelled it for a 
 week, fearing what he called the notary's ei ccetera. 
 Outside of his ideas as landlord, Jean-Baptiste 
 Molineux seemed kind and obliging; he played boston 
 without complaining of his partner's mistakes; he 
 laughed at what makes middle-class people laugh, 
 spoke of what they talk about, of the arbitrary acts 
 of the bakers who were so wicked as to sell by false 
 weight, of the connivance of the police, of the
 
 122 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 heroic seventeen Deputies of the Left. He read 
 the Cure Meslier's Common Sense, and went to Mass, 
 for want of being able to choose between deism and 
 Christianity; but he made no return for the blessed 
 bread and then pleaded escape from the encroaching 
 pretensions of the clergy. On this subject the 
 indefatigable petitioner wrote letters to the news- 
 papers, which the newspapers did not insert and did 
 not deign to answer. In fine, he resembled an 
 estimable middle-class man who solemnly kindles 
 his yule log, goes shooting on Twelfth Day, invents 
 April-fool tricks, parades all the boulevards when 
 the weather is fine, goes to see the skaters, and at 
 two o'clock betakes himself to the terrace of the 
 Place Louis XV. on fire-work days, with his pocket 
 full of bread, so as to be m the front row. 
 
 The Cour Batave, where this little old man lived, 
 is the product of one of those odd speculations that 
 can no longer be explained after they have been 
 carried out. This claustral building, with interior 
 arcades and galleries, constructed of cut stone, 
 adorned with a fountain at the lower end, a polluted 
 fountain that opens its lion's mouth less to give water 
 than to ask it of every passer-by, was no doubt 
 invented to endow the Quartier Saint-Denis with a 
 sort of Palais-Royal. This monument, unhealthy, 
 enclosed on its four sides by lofty houses, has no 
 life or movement, but in day time it is the centre of 
 the dark passages that meet there and join the 
 Market Quarter to that of Saint-Martin by means of 
 the famous Rue Quincampoix, damp paths, where
 
 IN HIS GLORY 123 
 
 hampered folk catch rheumatism; but, at night, no 
 place in Paris is more deserted, you might call it the 
 catacombs of trade. There are several industrial 
 sewers there, very few Batavians and many grocers. 
 Naturally the tenements of this dealers' palace have 
 no other outlook than that of the common court 
 on which all the windows open, so that the rents 
 are at a very low figure. Monsieur Molineux dwelt 
 in one of the angles, on the seventh floor, on account 
 of his health: the air was pure only at a height of 
 seventy feet above the ground. There this good 
 landlord enjoyed the charming view of the Mont- 
 martre mills while walking amid young oaks, where 
 he cultivated flowers, notwithstanding the police 
 regulations relative to hanging gardens in the modern 
 Babylon. His apartments consisted of four rooms, 
 without comprising his valuable Anglaises situated 
 a story higher: he had the key to them, they be- 
 longed to him, he had founded them, he was in the 
 fashion in this respect. On entering, an unseemly 
 nudity at once revealed this man's avarice: in the 
 ante-chamber, six straw-seated chairs, a faience 
 chafing-dish, and, on the walls, hung with bottle- 
 green paper, four engravings bought at sales; in the 
 dining-room, two buffets, two cages full of birds, a 
 table covered with an oil-cloth, a barometer, a 
 glass door looking out on his hanging gardens and 
 mahogany chairs stuffed with hair; the parlor had 
 small shades of old green silk stuff, a piece of fur- 
 niture in green Utrecht velvet and white-painted 
 wood. As regards this old bachelor's bed-room, it
 
 124 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 had furnishings of the time of Louis XV., disfigured 
 by too long use and on which a woman clad in 
 white would be afraid to soil herself. His mantel- 
 piece was adorned with a clock having two columns 
 between which was a dial that served as a pedestal 
 for a Pallas brandishing her spear: a myth. The 
 hearth was loaded with dishes full of remains 
 intended for the cats, and where one would be afraid 
 to tread. Above a rose-wood commode, a pastel 
 portrait — Molineux in his youth — . Then books, 
 tables on which were seen mean green cartons; on 
 a bracket, his late finches stuffed; finally, a bed so 
 cold that it might have told of a Carmelite. 
 
 Cesar Birotteau was delighted with the exquisite 
 politeness of Molineux, whom he found in a gray 
 swan-skin dressing-gown, superintending his milk 
 placed on a sheet-iron chafing-dish in the chimney 
 corner and his eight-ounce allowance of water that 
 was boiling in a small brown earthenware kettle 
 and which he was pouring in small doses into his 
 coffee-pot. So as not to disturb his landlord, the 
 umbrella-dealer had gone to open the door for Birot- 
 teau. Molineux held in great veneration the mayors 
 and deputies of the city of Paris, whom he called 
 his municipal officers. On the magistrate making 
 his appearance he arose and remained standing, 
 with his hat in his hand, until the great Birotteau 
 was seated. 
 
 "No, sir — Yes, sir — Ah! sir, if I had known that 
 I was to have had the honor of having among my 
 modest household goods a member of the municipal
 
 IN HIS GLORY 125 
 
 body of Paris, then you may believe that I would 
 have regarded it as a duty to go to your house, 
 though your landlord or — on the point — of — be- 
 coming such." 
 
 Birotteau made a signal of entreaty for him to put 
 on his hat. 
 
 " I will not do so, I will not cover my head until 
 you are seated and covered too, if you have a cold; 
 my room is somewhat chilly, the moderate amount 
 of my income does not allow me — at your pleasure. 
 Monsieur Deputy." 
 
 Birotteau had sneezed while looking for his papers. 
 He presented them, and in doing so remarked, in 
 order to obviate any delay, that Monsieur Roguin, 
 the notary, had drawn them up at his own expense. 
 
 " 1 do not dispute Monsieur Roguin's intelligence, 
 he has an old name that is well known in the ofifice 
 of notary in Paris; but I have my little habits, I 
 attend to my business myself, a rather excusable 
 mania, and my notary is — " 
 
 " But our affair is so simple," said the perfumer, 
 accustomed to the ready decisions of people in trade. 
 
 "So simple!" exclaimed Molineux. "Nothing is 
 simple in the matter of renting. Ah! you are not a 
 landlord, sir, and you are only so much the happier 
 for it. If you only knew how ungrateful tenants 
 are, and what precautions we are obliged to take! 
 Well, sir, I have a tenant — " 
 
 Molineux spent a quarter of an hour telling how 
 Monsieur Gendrin, a designer, had eluded the 
 vigilance of his porter, in the Rue Saint-Honore.
 
 126 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Monsieur Gendrin was guilty of infamy worthy of a 
 Marat, making obscene sketches that the police 
 tolerated, just see the connivance of the police! 
 This Gendrin, a most immoral artist, was coming in 
 with women of bad repute and blocking the stairway! 
 a pleasantry quite worthy of a man who was drawing 
 caricatures hostile to the Government. And why 
 these misdeeds? — Because he was asked for his rent 
 on the fifteenth! Gendrin and Molineux went to law, 
 for, though he did not pay, the artist had the cheek 
 to remain in his empty apartments. Molineux re- 
 ceived anonymous letters in which Gendrin no 
 doubt threatened him with assassination, of an 
 evening, in the alleys leading to the Cour Batave. 
 
 " And accordingly, sir," he said continuing, "the 
 prefect of police, to whom I confided my embarrass- 
 ment — I took advantage of the circumstances to give 
 him some pointers on the modifications to be intro- 
 duced into the laws that govern the subject — author- 
 ized me to carry pistols for my personal safety." 
 
 The little old man arose to go look for his pistols. 
 
 "Here they are, sir!" he exclaimed. 
 
 " But, sir, you have nothing like that to fear from 
 me," said Birotteau, looking at Cayron, to whom he 
 smiled while casting a glance at him expressive of 
 a feeling of pity for such a man. 
 
 Molineux caught his look, was hurt at finding such 
 an expression on the countenance of a municipal 
 officer, who ought to protect those under his juris- 
 diction. He would have pardoned it in any one else, 
 but he did not pardon it in Birotteau.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 127 
 
 "Sir," he continued dryly, "one of the most 
 highly esteemed consular judges, a mayor's deputy, 
 an honorable man of trade, would not descend to such 
 pettiness, for pettiness it is! But, in this case, there 
 is a breaking-through for which you must get the 
 consent of your landlord, the Comte de Granville, 
 agreements to be stipulated for the restoration of the 
 wall at the expiration of the lease; and then, rents 
 are rather low, they will rise, the Place Vendome 
 will increase in value, yes, it will improve! the Rue 
 de Castiglione is going to be built up! I bind myself — 
 I bind myself — ." 
 
 "Let us come to a conclusion," said Birotteau, 
 stunned; "what do you want? I am rather too 
 well acquainted with business not to see that your 
 reasons will yield to the higher reason, money! 
 Well, what must you have?" 
 
 " Nothing but what is just, Monsieur Deputy. 
 How long has your lease to run yet?" 
 
 "Seven years," replied Birotteau. 
 
 " In seven years what may not my second floor 
 be worth!" exclaimed Molineux. "What may not 
 two furnished rooms in that quarter rent for? over 
 two hundred francs a month, perhaps! I bind myself, 
 I bind myself by a lease! We will, then, advance 
 the rent to fifteen hundred francs. At that figure I 
 consent to cancel the lease for those two rooms with 
 Monsieur Cayron, who is here," he said casting a 
 squinting look at the dealer, "I let you have them 
 for seven consecutive years. The opening of the 
 wall will be at your expense, on condition that you
 
 128 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 bring me the Comte de Granville's approval and 
 surrender of all his rights. You will be responsible 
 for consequences of this little opening, you will not 
 be bound to restore the wall as far as I am concerned, 
 and you will give me as indemnity five hundred 
 francs now: we know not who will be living or who 
 will be dead, I do not want to run after any one to 
 restore the wall." 
 
 "These conditions seem pretty nearly right," 
 said Birotteau. 
 
 " Then," said Molineux, " you will count down to 
 me seven hundred and fifty francs, hie et nunc, 
 credited on the last six months of the use, the lease 
 will show a receipt for it. Oh! I will accept small 
 notes, marked value in rent, so as not to lose my 
 guarantee, for whatever term suits you. I am fair 
 and square in business. We will stipulate that 
 you will close up the door opening on my stairway, 
 from which you will have no right of entering 
 — at your expense — with masonry. Be assured, I 
 will ask no indemnity for the restoration at the ex- 
 piration of the lease; I regard it as comprised in 
 the five hundred francs. You will always find me 
 just, sir." 
 
 "We men in trade are not so punctilious," said 
 the perfumer, " business would be impossible with 
 such formalities." 
 
 " Oh, in trade it is quite different, and especially 
 in the perfumery business, where everything fits 
 like a glove," said the little old man, with a sickly 
 smile. " But, sir, in the matter of renting, in Paris,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 129 
 
 nothing must be overlooked. See here, 1 have had 
 a tenant, in the Rue Montorgueil — " 
 
 "I would be very sorry, sir," said Birotteau, "to 
 delay your breakfast: here are the papers, make 
 your amendments, everything that you ask of me is 
 understood; let us sign to-morrow, let us give each 
 other our word to-day, for to-morrow my architect 
 must be master of the place." 
 
 "Sir, "continued Molineux, looking at the umbrella- 
 dealer, "the rent is due. Monsieur Cayron does not 
 want to pay it, we will add it to the small notes so 
 that the lease may run from January to January. 
 That will be more regular." 
 
 " Be it so," said Birotteau. 
 
 " The dues for the porter — " 
 
 "But," said Birotteau, "you deprive me of the 
 stairway, of the entrance, that is not just — " 
 
 "Oh! you are tenant," said little Molineux in a 
 peremptory voice, astride of principle, "you owe 
 the taxes on doors and windows and your share in 
 the costs. When everything is well understood, sir, 
 there is no further difficulty. You are putting on a 
 great deal of airs, sir; business is doing well?" 
 
 "Yes," said Birotteau. "But the motive is 
 something else. I am going to have a gathering of 
 some friends as much to celebrate the deliverance of 
 the territory as to have a feast in honor of my pro- 
 motion in the Order of the Legion of Honor — " 
 
 "Ah! ah!" said Molineux, "a reward well 
 merited!" 
 
 "Yes," said Birotteau, "perhaps I have made 
 9
 
 I30 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 myself worthy of this distinguished and royal favor 
 by sitting in the consular court and by fighting for 
 the Bourbons on the steps of Saint-Roch, on the 
 thirteenth Vendemiaire, when I was wounded by 
 Napoleon; these titles — " 
 
 "Are worth those of our brave soldiers of the old 
 army. The ribbon is red because it was steeped in 
 spilt blood." 
 
 At these words, taken from the Constitutionnel, 
 Birotteau could not refrain from inviting little Moli- 
 neux, who became confused in returning thanks and 
 felt ready to pardon him for his disdain. The old 
 man showed his new tenant to the stair-head, at 
 the same time overwhelming him with politeness. 
 When Birotteau reached the middle of the Cour 
 Batave along with Cayron, he looked at his neigh- 
 bor with a bantering air. 
 
 " I did not think that there could be such weak 
 folks in existence!" he said, scarcely withholding 
 the word stupid. 
 
 "Ah! sir," said Cayron, "everybody hasn't got 
 your talents." 
 
 Birotteau might well think himself a superior man 
 in Monsieur Molineux's presence; the umbrella- 
 dealer's reply made him smile pleasantly, and he 
 saluted him in right royal fashion. 
 
 " Now for the Market," Birotteau said to himself, 
 " let us look up the matter of the hazel-nuts." 
 
 After an hour's search Birotteau, sent by the 
 Market women to the Rue des Lombards, where 
 nuts were used in making sugar-plums, learned from
 
 IN HIS GLORY 131 
 
 his friends, the Matifats, that dry fruit was to be 
 had wholesale only from a certain Madame Angelique 
 Madou, who lived in the Rue Perrin-Gasselin, the 
 only house where were to be had the real Provence 
 filbert and the real white Alpine hazel-nut. 
 
 The Rue Perrin-Gasselin is one of the alleys of 
 the labyrinth forming a square inclosed between the 
 quay, the Rue Saint-Denis, the Rue de la Ferron- 
 nerie and the Rue de la Monnaie, and which is as it 
 were the entrails of the city. Swarming there in 
 infinite number are heterogeneous and mixed mer- 
 chandise, nauseating and attractive, herring and 
 muslin, silk and honey, butter and tulle, especially 
 many small articles of trade regarding which Paris 
 has no more doubt than most men have regarding 
 v^hat is cooked in their pancreas, and in which served 
 then as bloodsucker a certain Bidault, called Gigon- 
 net the note-shaver, living in the Rue Grenetat. 
 Here former stables are filled with oil casks, the 
 shipping department contains myriads of cotton 
 stockings. There is carried on the wholesale trade 
 in provisions sold at retail in the Market. Madame 
 Madou, a former fish-monger, forced ten years ago 
 into the dry fruit by a union with the former owner 
 of her business, which had long furnished food 
 for the gossipings of the Market, was a virile and 
 tantalizing beauty, then hidden in excessive corpu- 
 lency. She occupied the first floor of a yellow 
 house badly out of repair, but kept together on 
 each floor by iron cross-bars. The deceased had 
 succeeded in getting rid of his competitors and in
 
 132 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 converting his trade into a monopoly; in spite of some 
 slight defects of education, his heiress was able then 
 to continue it in a routine way, parading through 
 her stores, which occupied shipping offices, stables 
 and former workshops in which she fought success- 
 fully against insects. Without desk, or cash-box, or 
 books, for she could neither read nor write, she an- 
 swered a letter by pounding with her fist, regarding 
 it as an insult. In other respects, a good woman, 
 with a florid complexion, wearing a silk handker- 
 chief over her bonnet, winning by her ophicleide voice 
 the esteem of the carters who brought her merchan- 
 dise, and her altercations with whom ended in a 
 bottle of petit hlanc. She could not have any trouble 
 with the growers who shipped fruit to her, as they 
 corresponded with spot cash, the only way of having 
 an understanding with one another, and old woman 
 Madou went to see them in the fine season. Birot- 
 teau noticed this wild dealer amid bags of hazel- 
 nuts, chestnuts and other kinds. 
 
 "Good-day, my dear lady," said Birotteau with 
 an air of levity. 
 
 *' Your dear ! " she said. " Eh! my son, you knew 
 me then from having had pleasant relations with 
 me? Have we had cards up our sleeves together?" 
 
 " I am a perfumer, and, moreover, deputy to the 
 mayor of the second arrondissement of Paris; so 
 both as magistrate and purchaser I am entitled to 
 being spoken to by you in a different tone of 
 voice." 
 
 " I get married when I please," said the virago,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 33 
 
 " I am under no obligation to the mayor's office and 
 don't bother the deputies. As for my customers, 
 they adore me, and I speak to 'em as I please. If 
 they are not satisfied they go waste their time some- 
 where else." 
 
 "That's monopoly for you!" murmured Birot- 
 teau. 
 
 " Popole! he's my god-son: he may have done 
 something foolish; is it for him you are coming, my 
 honorable magistrate?" she said in a milder voice. 
 
 "No, I have had the honor of telling you that I 
 have come as a buyer." 
 
 "Very well, what do you call yourself, chappie.? 
 I never see you comin' here before." 
 
 " With that tone of voice, you ought to sell hazel- 
 nuts very cheap?" remarked Birotteau, who gave 
 his name and stated his position. 
 
 "Ah! you are the famous Birotteau as has a 
 pretty wife. And how much do you want, some of 
 these sugared hazel-nuts, sweetheart?" 
 
 " Six thousand by weight." 
 
 "That's all I have of them," said the dealer, 
 speaking like a flute out of tune. "My dear sir, 
 you are not one of the slow ones in marryin' girls 
 and scenting them! God bless you, but it's you 
 that has the nice job. Excuse the small stock! 
 What a fine customer you will be, and you will 
 have a place in the woman's heart I love best in 
 the world—" 
 
 "Who is that?" 
 
 " Well, the dear Madame Madou."
 
 134 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " How much are your hazel-nuts?" 
 
 "To you, my good man, twenty-five francs the 
 hundred, if you take them all." 
 
 "Twenty-five francs," said Birotteau, "fifteen 
 hundred francs! And I will perhaps want them by 
 hundreds of thousands a year!" 
 
 " But they are a fine stock, gathered bare-footed!" 
 she said as she plunged her ruddy arm into a bag of 
 filberts. "And not hollow either! my dear sir. 
 When you think that grocers sell them for dessert at 
 twenty-four cents a pound, and that in every four 
 pounds they put over a pound of common hazel-nuts. 
 Must I lose on my stock to please you? You are 
 genteel, but you do not please me enough for that! 
 If you want so much, I will let you have them for 
 twenty francs, for I mustn't lose the custom of a 
 deputy, that wouldn't be well for the married men! 
 Feel what fine goods they are, and how heavy! 
 They are scarcely fifty to the pound ! they are sound, 
 no worms in them!" 
 
 " Come, then, send me six thousand at two 
 thousand francs and at ninety days, to my factory 
 in the Rue du Faubourg du Temple, very early to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 " That will keep one as busy as a married 
 woman. All right, farewell, Monsieur Mayor, no harm 
 meant. But if it is all the same to you," she said 
 following Birotteau into the courtyard, "I would 
 prefer your notes at forty days, for I am letting you 
 have them too cheap, and 1 cannot yet lose the 
 discount! With that, what a tender heart he has.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 35 
 
 that old man Gigonnet, he sucks our marrow as a 
 spider sips from a fly." 
 
 "Well, yes, at fifty days. But we will weigh by 
 the hundred pounds, so as not to have any hollow 
 ones. Otherwise no bargain." 
 
 "Ah! the dog, he knows his business," said 
 Madame Madou; " you can't shut his eye up. It is 
 those knaves of the Rue des Lombards who have put 
 him up to that! Those big wolves have all an under- 
 standing with one another to devour the poor lambs. " 
 
 The lamb was five feet high and three feet across, 
 she looked like a big stone dressed in striped cotton 
 stuff without a belt. 
 
 The perfumer, engrossed in his schemes, was 
 meditating as he went along the Rue Saint-Honore 
 on his duel with Macassar oil, he was working out 
 his labels, the shape of his bottles, and was calcu- 
 lating as to the character of the cork and the color of 
 the placards. And yet people will say that there is 
 no poetry in trade! Newton did not make any more 
 calculations for his celebrated binomial theorem than 
 did Birotteau for his comagenoiis essence, for the oil 
 became essence, and he was going from one expres- 
 sion to the other without knowing their meaning. 
 All sorts of combinations were crowding one another 
 in his head, and he took this activity in the vacuum 
 for substantial action of talent. Thus preoccupied, 
 he went past the Rue des Bourdonnais and was 
 obliged to retrace his steps as he bethought himself 
 of his uncle.
 
 * 
 
 Claude- Joseph Pillerault, formerly a dealer in iron 
 and copper-ware at the sign La Cloche d'or, was one 
 of those men who are fme-looking because of what 
 they are: get-up and manners, understanding and 
 heart, language and thought, all harmonized in him. 
 Madame Birotteau's sole and only relative, Pillerault 
 had concentrated all his affections on her and 
 Cesarine, after having lost, in the course of his 
 commercial career, his wife and son, then an adopted 
 child, the son of his cook. These severe bereave- 
 ments had cast this good man into a state of Christian 
 stoicism, a specious belief that animated his life and 
 colored his last days with a tint at the same time 
 warm and cold like to that which gilds winter sun- 
 sets. His head, spare and hollowed, having a severe 
 expression, in which ochre and bistre were harmon- 
 iously blended, presented a striking analogy with 
 that which painters ascribe to Time, but making it 
 look common, for the habits of commercial life had 
 lessened in him the monumental and snappish 
 characteristic exaggerated by painters, sculptors and 
 clock makers. Of medium height, Pillerault was 
 rather thick-set than stout, nature had cut him out 
 for work and longevity, his square build bespoke a 
 strong frame, for he was of a dry temperament, 
 without any outward emotion, but yet not unimpres- 
 sionable. Pillerault, by no means demonstrative, as 
 
 (136)
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 37 
 
 was indicated by his calm bearing and his set figure, 
 had a sensibility that was all internal, expressionless 
 and unemphatic. His eye, the pupil of which was 
 green, speckled with black points, was remarkable 
 for its unchanging clearness. His forehead, furrowed 
 by straight lines and yellowed by time, was small, 
 contracted, hard, covered with silvery gray hair cut 
 short, and, as it were, matted. His fine mouth be- 
 spoke prudence and not avarice. His sprightly eye 
 revealed a well-spent life. In fine, honesty, the 
 sense of duty, real modesty, were to him as an 
 aureola making his figure the picture of good health. 
 For sixty years he had led the toilsome and frugal 
 life of a hard worker. His history resembled that of 
 Cesar, minus the fortunate circumstances. A clerk 
 until he was thirty, his money was invested in his 
 trade just when Cesar was using his savings to buy 
 funds; in fine, he had put himself to the utmost 
 stretch, all his resources had been put to use. His 
 wise and reserved character, his foresight and 
 mathematical reflection had influenced his method of 
 working. Most of his business transactions were 
 concluded by word of mouth, and he had seldom had 
 any trouble. An observer, like all contemplative 
 people, he studied men by letting them talk; he 
 then often refused advantageous offers taken by his 
 neighbors, who later on repented while saying to 
 themselves that Pillerault scented the sharpers. He 
 preferred the smallest profits if they were safe to 
 those bold strokes that put large sums at stake. 
 He kept sheet-iron for fireplaces, gridirons, heavy
 
 138 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 andirons, brass and iron cauldrons, hoes and fur- 
 nishings for the peasantry. This rather thank- 
 less business required excessive mechanical work. 
 The profit was not in proportion to the labor, there 
 was little profit on these heavy articles, hard to move 
 and to store. And so he had nailed up many cases, 
 packed many parcels, unpacked, received many loads. 
 No fortune was either more nobly gained, or more 
 legitimate, or more honorable than his. He had 
 never overcharged, he had never run after business. 
 In later days he was to be seen smoking his pipe in 
 front of his door, looking at the transients and watch- 
 ing his clerks at work. In 1814, about the time he 
 retired, his fortune at first consisted of seventy 
 thousand francs, as shown by his ledger, of which 
 he had five thousand and a few hundred francs in 
 the funds; then forty thousand francs payable 
 in five years without interest, the price of his busi- 
 ness, sold to one of his clerks. For thirty years, 
 doing annually a business of a hundred thousand 
 francs, he had made seven per cent on this sum, 
 and his living absorbed half his gains. Such was 
 his balance. His neighbors, by no means envious 
 of this moderate business, praised his wisdom with- 
 out understanding it. At the corner of the Rue 
 de la Monnaie and the Rue Saint-Honore is the 
 Cafe David, where some old merchants went, like 
 Pillerault, to have their evening coffee. There, 
 occasionally, the adoption of the cook's son had 
 been the subject of some pleasantries, such as are 
 made with a man who is respected, for the dealer in
 
 IN HIS GLORY 139 
 
 iron and copper-ware inspired respectful esteem 
 without having sought it : his own was enough for 
 him. And so, when Pillerault lost this poor young 
 man, there were over two hundred persons at the 
 funeral who went all the way to the cemetery. On 
 that occasion he was heroic. His grief, concealed 
 like that of all men of character without show, 
 increased the sympathy of the section for this good 
 man, a term used in regard to Pillerault in a tone that 
 enhanced its meaning and ennobled him. Claude 
 Pillerault's sobriety, having become a habit, could 
 not give way to the pleasures of a life of ease, when, 
 having given up trade, he retired into that rest 
 which weakens so many Parisians of the middle 
 class; he continued his mode of life and animated 
 his old age by his political convictions, which, we 
 may say, were those of the Extreme Left. Pillerault 
 belonged to that working-class party added by the 
 Revolution to the middle-class. The only stain on 
 his character was the importance he added to his 
 conquest: he held to his rights, to liberty, to the 
 fruits of the Revolution; he regarded his ease and 
 his political consistency as compromised by the 
 Jesuits, whose secret power was proclaimed by the 
 Liberals, menaced as they were by the ideas which 
 the Constitutionnel attributed to MONSIEUR. He was, 
 moreover, true to his life, to his ideas; there was 
 nothing narrow in his politics, he did not insult his 
 adversaries, he was afraid of the courtiers, he be- 
 lieved in the republican virtues: he imagined Manuel 
 free from every excess, General Foy a great man,
 
 140 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Casimir Perier without ambition, La Fayette a politi- 
 cal prophet, Courier a good man. He, in fine, 
 entertained noble chimeras. This fine old man 
 lived the family life, he went to the Ragons' and to 
 his niece's house, to Judge Popinot's, to Joseph 
 Lebas's and the Matifats'. Personally, fifteen hun- 
 dred francs supplied all his needs. As for the rest 
 of his income, he spent it on good works, on presents 
 to his grand-niece; he gave dinners four times a year 
 to his friends at Roland's, in the Rue du Hasard, 
 and took them to the theatre. He played the part 
 of those old bachelors on whom married women 
 draw bills of exchange at sight as the fancy strikes 
 them: a country party, the Opera, the Montagnes- 
 Beaujon. Pillerault was then happy in the pleasure 
 he gave, he enjoyed himself in the enjoyment of 
 others. Having sold his business, he did not want 
 to leave the section to which he had been habituated, 
 and he had taken, in the Rue des Bourdonnais, a 
 small tenement of three rooms on the fifth floor of 
 an old house. Just as Molineux's manners were 
 reflected in his strange furniture, so Pillerault's pure 
 and simple life was revealed by the interior arrange- 
 ments of his tenement, made up of an antechamber, 
 a parlor and a bed-room. In its dimensions it was 
 almost like a Carthusian's cell. The antechamber, 
 with its red and rubbed floor, had only one window 
 adorned with curtains of fine calico with red borders, 
 mahogany chairs upholstered with red sheep-leather 
 and gilt nails; the walls were hung with olive-green 
 paper and adorned with the Americans' Oath, a
 
 IN HIS GLORY 141 
 
 portrait of Bonaparte as First Consul, and the Battle 
 of Austerlit:{_. The parlor, no doubt arranged by the 
 upholsterer, had yellow rosaceous furniture and a 
 rug; the furnishings of the mantel-piece in bronze 
 without gilding, a painted fire-screen, a pier-table with 
 a flower-vase under a glass-case, a round covered 
 table on which stood a decanter. The newness of 
 this room sufificiently bespoke a sacrifice made to 
 worldly custom by the old dealer in iron and copper- 
 ware, who rarely received. In his bed-room, plain 
 as that of a monk or an old soldier, the two men 
 who best appreciate life, a crucifix, with holy water 
 font, placed in its alcove, struck the eye. This pro- 
 fession of faith in a stoical republican was deeply 
 emotional. An old woman came to keep his house 
 in order, but his respect for women was so great 
 that he did not let her polish his shoes, cleaned by 
 contract with a boot-black. His costume was simple 
 and unchangeable. He customarily wore an overcoat 
 and trousers of blue cloth, a printed cotton vest, 
 a white cravat and very low shoes; on week-days 
 he put on a suit with metal buttons. His habits for 
 rising, breakfast, going out, dinner, evening and 
 return to his lodgings were marked by the strictest 
 exactness, for regularity of habits is conducive to 
 long life and health. There was never any question 
 of politics between Cesar, the Ragons, the Abbe 
 Loraux and himself, for the folk of this coterie knew 
 one another too well to make assaults with the 
 view of proselytism. Like his nephew and the 
 Ragons, he had great confidence in Roguin. To
 
 142 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 him the Paris notary was always a being to be 
 venerated, a living image of probity. In the matter 
 of the land Pillerault had undertaken a counter- 
 examination which was the reason for the confidence 
 with which Cesar had opposed his wife's forebod- 
 ings. 
 
 The perfumer ascended the seventy-eight steps 
 that led to the little brown door of his uncle's tene- 
 ment, thinking that this old man must be very fresh 
 to climb them without complaint. He found the 
 overcoat and the trousers spread on the valise placed 
 outside; Madame Vaillant brushed and rubbed them 
 while this genuine philosopher, enveloped in a gray 
 swan's-down overcoat, was breakfasting in his chim- 
 ney corner, and reading the parliamentary debates 
 in the Constitutionnel or the Journal dii Commerce. 
 
 "Uncle," said Cesar, "the affair is concluded, 
 they are going to draw up the deeds. If, however, 
 you have any fears or regrets, it is time enough yet 
 to break off." 
 
 "Why should I break off? The matter is good, 
 but not to be realized upon for a long time, like all 
 sure things. My fifty thousand francs are in the 
 Bank, I handled yesterday the last five thousand 
 for my business. As for the Ragons, they are 
 putting their whole fortune in it." 
 
 "Well, what have they to live on?" 
 
 " Indeed, don't be uneasy, they are making 
 out." 
 
 "Uncle, I understand you," said Birotteau with 
 emotion and clasping the austere old man's hands.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 143 
 
 "How will the business be done?" Pillerault 
 asked brusquely. 
 
 "I will have a three-eighths interest in it, you 
 and the Ragons one-eighth; I will credit you on my 
 books until a decision has been reached regarding 
 the question of the deeds as passed upon by the 
 notary." 
 
 "Good, my boy, you are very rich, then, to be 
 able to put three hundred thousand francs in it? It 
 seems to me that you take a big risk outside of your 
 business; will it not suffer accordingly? But that is 
 your concern. If you met with a reverse, there are 
 the funds at eighty, I could sell two thousand francs 
 of my consols. Take care, my boy: if you had 
 recourse to me, it would be your daughter's fortune 
 you would be investing." 
 
 " Uncle, how simply you say the most beautiful 
 things! you touch my heart." 
 
 "General Foy touched mine quite otherwise a 
 while ago! In fine, go and close; the land will not 
 fly away, half of it will be ours; even were it neces- 
 sary to wait six years, we will always have some 
 interest, there are wood-yards that bring rents, one 
 can therefore lose nothing. — There is only one 
 chance, yet it is impossible, Roguin will not run 
 away with our property — " 
 
 " Yet my wife said as much last night, she 
 fears — " 
 
 "Roguin run off with our property!" said Piller- 
 ault laughing, "and why?" 
 
 " He has, she says, too much character in his
 
 144 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 nose, and, like all men who cannot have wives, he 
 is madly in love with — " 
 
 After having let slip a smile of incredulity, 
 Pillerault went and tore a piece of paper from a 
 little note-book, wrote down the amount and signed. 
 
 "Here, there is an order on the Bank for a 
 hundred thousand francs for Ragon and myself. 
 But those poor people have sold to your wicked 
 knave, Du Tillet, their fifteen shares in the Wort- 
 schin mines to make up the sum. It touches my 
 heart to see good people in straits. And folk so 
 worthy, so noble, the flower of the old middle-class, 
 indeed! Their brother. Judge Popinot, knows noth- 
 ing of it, they conceal their circumstances from him 
 so as not to prevent him from devoting himself to 
 his beneficence. People who have worked as I 
 have done for thirty years — " 
 
 " God grant, then, that the Comagenous Oil may 
 succeed!" exclaimed Birotteau, "I will be doubly 
 glad of it. Adieu, uncle; you will come to dinner on 
 Sunday along with the Ragons, Roguin and Monsieur 
 Claperon, for we will all sign the day after to-morrow, 
 and, to-morrow being Friday, I do not want to attend 
 to bus—" 
 
 "You believe, then, in those superstitions?" 
 
 " Uncle, I will never believe that the day on 
 which the Son of God was put to death by men is a 
 lucky day. Indeed, all business is stopped on 
 January 21." 
 
 " Until Sunday," said Pillerault brusquely. 
 
 " Without his political opinions," Birotteau said to
 
 IN HIS GLORY 145 
 
 himself as he went down the stairs, " I do not know 
 whether there would be his like here below, the like 
 of that uncle of mine. What does politics do to 
 him? He would be so happy by not thinking of it 
 at all. His having that hobby proves that no man 
 is perfect. Three o'clock already," said Cesar as 
 he reached his own house. 
 
 "Sir, you are taking those notes?" Celestine 
 asked of him, showing him the umbrella-dealer's 
 driblets. 
 
 " Yes, at six, without commission. Wife, get 
 everything ready for my toilet, 1 am going to Mon- 
 sieur Vauquelin's, you know why. A white cravat 
 especially." 
 
 Birotteau gave some orders to his clerks: he did 
 not see Popinot, guessed that his future partner was 
 dressing, and at once went up to his room, where he 
 found the Dresden Virgin magnificently framed, in 
 accordance with his instructions. 
 
 "Well, it is pretty?" he said to his daughter. 
 
 "But, papa, say rather that it is beautiful; 
 otherwise people will make fun of you." 
 
 "See the girl grumbling at her father! — Well, 
 for my taste, I like Hero and Leander just as 
 well. The Virgin is a religious subject, that may 
 be put in a chapel; but Hero and Leander, ha! I will 
 purchase it, for the oil flask has inspired me with 
 ideas — " 
 
 " But, papa, 1 do not understand you." 
 
 "Virginia, a hack!" exclaimed Cesar in a loud 
 voice when he had shaved and when the timid 
 10
 
 146 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Popinot appeared dragging his feet after him, 
 because of Cesarine. 
 
 The lover had not yet observed that his infirmity 
 no longer existed as far as his mistress was con- 
 cerned. A delightful proof of love that people on 
 whom chance has inflicted any physical defect may 
 alone experience. 
 
 " Sir," he said, "the press can be put to work 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, what ails you, Popinot?" Cesar asked on 
 seeing Anselme blush. 
 
 " Sir, it is the happiness of having found a shop, 
 a rear shop, a kitchen and rooms overhead, and 
 stores, for twelve hundred francs a year, in the Rue 
 des Cinq-Diamants." 
 
 "We must get a lease for eighteen years," said 
 Birotteau. " But let us be off to Monsieur Vauque- 
 lin's, we will chat on the way." 
 
 Cesar and Popinot got into the hack in full view 
 of the clerks astonished at those extraordinary prep- 
 arations and an abnormal carriage, not knowing 
 what great things were being thought of by the 
 master of La Reine des Roses. 
 
 I " We are, then, going to know the truth about the 
 hazel-nuts!" said the perfumer. 
 
 "Hazel-nuts?" interposed Popinot. 
 
 "You have my secret, Popinot," said the per- 
 fumer, " I have let the word ha:(el-mit slip, every- 
 thing is in that. Hazel-nut oil is the only one that 
 produces action on the hair, and no perfumery house 
 has thought of it. On seeing the engraving of. Hero
 
 IN HIS GLORY 147 
 
 ajid Leander I said to myself: ' If the ancients used 
 so much oil for their hair, they had some reason;' 
 for the ancients are the ancients! hi spite of modern 
 pretensions, 1 am of Boileau's opinion about the 
 ancients. I set out from that point to reach the 
 hazel-nut oil, thanks to little Bianchon, the medical 
 student, your relative; he told me that at the 
 College his comrades used hazel-nut oil to stimulate 
 the growth of their mustaches and whiskers. All 
 that is left for us to do now is to get the illustrious 
 Monsieur Vauquelin's sanction. Enlightened by 
 him, we will not deceive the public. Just a little 
 while ago I was at the Market, to see a dealer in 
 hazel-nuts, so as to have the first essential; in a 
 jiffy I will be with one of the greatest scholars in 
 France to know how to get the quintessence out of 
 it. Proverbs are not silly, extremes meet. See, 
 my boy, trade is the intermediary between the 
 vegetable products and science. Angelique Madou 
 gathers. Monsieur Vauquelin extracts, and we sell 
 an essence. Hazel-nuts are worth five sous a pound, 
 Monsieur Vauquelin is going to multiply their value 
 a hundredfold, and we will do a service perhaps to 
 humanity, for, if vanity is the cause of great torment 
 to man, a good cosmetic is then a blessing." 
 
 The reverential admiration with which Popinot 
 listened to Cesarine's father stimulated Birotteau's 
 eloquence, and he allowed himself to use the wildest 
 phrases that a middle-class man can invent. 
 
 "Be respectful, Anselme," he said as they 
 entered the street in which Vauquelin lived, "we
 
 148 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 are going to penetrate into the sanctuary of science. 
 Put the yirgin in evidence, unaffectedly, on a chair 
 in the dining-room. Provided I do not get mixed up 
 in what I want to say," naively exclaimed Birotteau. 
 ** Popinot, this man makes a chemical impression on 
 me, his voice warms my entrails and gives me even 
 a slight colic. He is my benefactor, and in a few 
 moments, Anselme, he will be yours." 
 
 These words gave a chill to Popinot, who walked 
 as if he were treading on eggs, and looked at the 
 walls with a restless stare. Monsieur Vauquelin 
 was in his office when Birotteau's arrival was 
 announced. The academician knew the perfumer 
 who was deputy to the mayor and knew him to be 
 in great favor; he received him. 
 
 " You do not forget me, then, in your greatness.-*" 
 said the scholar; "but from chemist to perfumer is 
 only a hand's breadth." 
 
 " Alas! sir, from your genius to the simplicity of a 
 poor man like me is immensity itself. I owe to you 
 what you call my greatness, and will not forget it 
 either in this world or in the next." 
 
 " Oh! in the next, some say, we will all be equal, 
 kings and cobblers." 
 
 " That is, the kings and cobblers who shall have 
 lived a holy life," Birotteau observed. 
 
 " This is your son?" Vauquelin asked, looking at 
 little Popinot, who seemed dazed at seeing nothing 
 extraordinary in the office in which he had believed 
 he would find monstrosities, gigantic machines, 
 flying metals, animated substances.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 49 
 
 " No, sir, but he is a young man whom I love and 
 who comes to implore a kindness equal to your 
 talent; is it not infmite?" he said with a knowing 
 air. " We have to consult you a second time, after 
 an interval of sixteen years, on an important matter, 
 and on which 1 am ignorant as a perfumer." 
 
 " Let us see, what is it?" 
 
 "I know that hair occupies your vigils, and that 
 you are studying its analysis! Whilst you have 
 been thinking of it for glory, 1 have been thinking of 
 it for trade." 
 
 " Dear Monsieur Birotteau, what do you want me 
 to do? Analyze the hair?" 
 
 He took a small piece of paper. 
 
 "1 am going to read before the Academy of 
 Science a memoir on this subject. Hair is made up 
 of a large quantity of mucus, a small quantity of 
 white oil, much greenish black oil, iron, some atoms 
 of oxide of manganese, phosphate of lime, a very 
 small quantity of carbonate of lime, silica and a 
 considerable amount of sulphur. The different pro- 
 portions of these substances cause the different colors 
 of hair. Thus red hair has much more of the 
 greenish black oil than of the others." 
 
 Cesar and Popinot opened their eyes to a size 
 that was laughable. 
 
 " Nine things!" exclaimed Birotteau. "What! 
 there are found in a hair metals and oils? Were it 
 not you, a man whom I venerate, who tell me of it, 
 1 would not believe it. How extraordinary! — God is 
 great, Monsieur Vauquelin."
 
 I50 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Hair is produced by a follicular organ," the 
 great chemist continued, "a sort of pocket open at 
 both ends: by one it is connected with the nerves 
 and the vessels, from the other starts the hair. 
 According to some of our learned brethren, and 
 among them Monsieur de Blainville, hair is a dead 
 part expelled from this pocket or crypt that is filled 
 with a pulpy substance." 
 
 " it is, as it were, perspiration in sticks," exclaimed 
 Popinot, whom the perfumer kicked on the heel. 
 
 Vauquelin smiled at Popinot's idea. 
 
 "It has uses, has it not.-'" Cesar then said as 
 he looked at Popinot. " But, if hair is dead-born, it 
 is impossible to make it live, we are lost! The pros- 
 pectus is absurd; you do not know how funny the 
 public is, one could not tell it — " 
 
 " That it has a dung-hill on its head," said 
 Popinot, still wishing to make Vauquelin laugh. 
 
 " Aerial catacombs," replied the chemist, con- 
 tinuing the pleasantry. 
 
 " And my hazel-nuts that have been bought!" 
 exclaimed Birotteau, realizing the commercial loss. 
 " But why do they sell—" 
 
 " Be reassured," said Vauquelin, smiling: " I see 
 that it is a question of some secret for keeping the hair 
 from falling out or turning gray. Listen, this is my 
 opinion on the subject, after all my labor." 
 
 Here Popinot set his ears like a frightened hare. 
 
 " The discoloration of this dead or living substance 
 is, in my opinion, produced by the interruption of 
 the secretion of the coloring substances, which would
 
 IN HIS GLORY I 51 
 
 explain how, in cold climates, the hair of fine-furred 
 animals grows pale and whitens in winter." 
 
 "Hem! Popinot." 
 
 " It is evident," Vauquelin continued, " that the 
 alteration of the hair is due to sudden changes in the 
 ambient temperature — " 
 
 "Ambient, Popinot — hold, hold on to it!" ex- 
 claimed Cesar. 
 
 "Yes," said Vauquelin, "to alterations of heat 
 and cold, or to internal phenomena that produce the 
 same effect. Thus, probably, headaches and cephal- 
 algic affections absorb, dissipate or displace the 
 generating fluids. The internal requires medicine. 
 As for the external, then come your cosmetics." 
 
 "Well, sir," said Birotteau, "you revive me. I 
 have thought of selling hazel-nut oil, thinking that 
 the ancients made use of oil for their hair, and the 
 ancients are the ancients, I am of Boileau's opinion. 
 Why did the athletes anoint — ?" 
 
 " Olive oil is as good as hazel-nut oil," said Vau- 
 quelin, who did not heed Birotteau. " Every oil is 
 good to preserve the bulb from impressions injurious 
 to the substances that it holds in working, we might 
 say in solution if it was a question of chemistry. 
 Perhaps you are right: hazel-nut oil contains a 
 stimulant, Dupuytren has told me. I will try to find 
 out the differences that exist between beech, colza, 
 olive, nut, and other oils." 
 
 " I have not been deceived, then," said Birotteau, 
 triumphantly, " 1 have come in contact with a great 
 man. Macassar is done for! Macassar, sir, is a
 
 152 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 cosmetic given, that is, sold, and sold at a high price, 
 to make the hair grow." 
 
 " Dear Monsieur Birotteau," said Vauquelin, "not 
 two ounces of Macassar oil have come to Europe. 
 Macassar oil has not the slightest action on the hair; 
 but the Malay women buy it at its weight in gold 
 because of its preserving influence on the hair, not 
 knowing that whale oil is quite as good. No power, 
 either chemical or divine — " 
 
 "Oh! divine, — don't say that. Monsieur Vau- 
 quelin." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, the first law that God follows 
 is to be consistent with Himself: without unity there 
 is no power — " 
 
 "Ah! looked at in that way — " 
 
 "No power can, then, make hair grow on the 
 bald, just as you never dye red or white hair with- 
 out danger; but in boasting of the use of oil you 
 are guilty of no fault, no lie, and I think that those 
 who make use of it may preserve their hair." 
 
 "Do you think the Royal Academy of Science 
 would approve — ?" 
 
 "Oh! there is not the least discovery in that," 
 said Vauquelin. " Moreover, quacks have so much 
 abused the Academy's name that it would no longer 
 advance your interests. My conscience refuses to 
 regard hazel-nut oil as a wonder." 
 
 " What would be the best method of extracting 
 it: by decoction or by pressure?" Birotteau asked. 
 
 " By pressure between two warm plates the oil 
 will be more abundant; but, obtained by pressure
 
 IN HIS GLORY 1 53 
 
 between two cold plates, it will be of better quality. 
 It must be applied," said Vauquelin, kindly, "on 
 the skin itself, and not rubbed into the hair; other- 
 wise the effect will fail." 
 
 " Keep good hold of this, Popinot," said Birotteau, 
 with an enthusiasm that lit up his countenance. 
 "You see here, sir, a young man who will count 
 this day among the happiest of his life. He has 
 known of you, venerated you, without having seen 
 you. Ah! there is question of you often at my 
 house, the name that is always in the heart comes 
 often to the lips. We pray for you, my wife, my 
 daughter and 1 every day, as one ought to do for a 
 benefactor." 
 
 "It is a great deal for so little," said Vauquelin, 
 embarrassed by the perfumer's verbose grati- 
 tude. 
 
 "Tut, tut, tut!" put in Birotteau, "you cannot 
 prevent us from loving you, you who accept nothing 
 from me. You are, as it were, the sun, you shed 
 light, and those whom you enlighten cannot give 
 you anything in return." 
 
 The learned man smiled and arose, the perfumer 
 and Popinot arose also. 
 
 " Look, Anselme, look well at this office. You 
 permit, sir? Your moments are so valuable, perhaps 
 he will never again return to this place." 
 
 "Very well; are you satisfied with business?" 
 Vauquelin asked of Birotteau; "for, indeed, we are 
 both of us people of trade — " 
 
 "Fairly well, sir," said Birotteau, as he retired
 
 154 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 toward the dining-room, whither Vauquelin followed 
 him. " But to start this oil under the name of Cotna- 
 genous Essence will require a very large capital — " 
 
 "Essence and comagenous are two loud words. 
 Call your cosmetic Birotteaii Oil. If you do not want 
 to display your own name, take some other instead 
 of it, — But look at the Dresden Virgin — Ah! Mon- 
 sieur Birotteau, you want us to part on bad terms." 
 
 " Monsieur Vauquelin," said the perfumer, taking 
 hold of the chemist's hands, " this rarity derives its 
 only value from the persistence with which I hunted 
 it up; it was necessary to rummage all through 
 Germany to find it on China paper — a proof before 
 letters: I knew that you desired it, but that your 
 occupations did not allow you to procure it yourself, 
 I have made myself your commercial traveler. 
 Accept, then, not a paltry engraving, but care, 
 solicitude, steps and strides that prove an absolute 
 devotedness. I would have desired you to wish 
 for some substances that it would be necessary to 
 seek at the base of a precipice, and to have 
 said to you: ' There they are!' Do not refuse me. 
 We have so much chance of being forgotten, let me, 
 for myself, my wife, my daughter and my son-in- 
 law that may be, bring ourselves before your eyes. 
 You will say when looking at the Virgin : ' There 
 are good people who think of me.' " 
 
 " I accept," said Vauquelin. 
 
 Popinot and Birotteau wiped their eyes, so moved 
 were they by the tone of kindness with which the 
 academician spoke these words.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 155 
 
 "Do you wish to crown your kindness?" the 
 perfumer asked. 
 
 "What is it?" rejoined Vauqueiin. 
 
 " I will have some friends — " 
 
 He supported himself on his heels, assuming, how- 
 ever, an air of humility. 
 
 " — as much to celebrate the deliverance of the 
 territory as to have a feast in honor of my being 
 appointed a member of the Order of the Legion of 
 Honor." 
 
 " Ah!" said Vauqueiin, astonished. 
 
 "Perhaps I have made myself worthy of this 
 signal and royal favor by sitting in the consular 
 court and fighting for the Bourbons on the steps of 
 Saint-Roch, on the thirteenth Vendemiaire, when I 
 was wounded by Napoleon. — My wife gives a ball 
 on Sunday three weeks hence, come to it, sir! Do 
 me the honor of dining with us that day. As for 
 myself, it will be equivalent to my receiving the 
 Cross twice. I will write to you in good time before- 
 hand." 
 
 "Very well, yes," said Vauqueiin. 
 
 "My heart swells with pleasure," exclaimed the 
 perfumer after reaching the street. " He will come 
 to my house. I am afraid I have forgotten what he 
 said about hair; do you remember it, Popinot?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and in twenty years I will still remem- 
 ber it." 
 
 " That great man! what a look and what penetra- 
 tion!" said Birotteau. "Ah! he didn't make two 
 bites of a cherry; at the first glance he saw into our
 
 156 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 thoughts and gave us the means of sinking Macas- 
 sar oil. Ah! nothing can make the hair grow, 
 Macassar, you lie! Popinot, we have a fortune. And 
 so to-morrow, at seven o'clock, let us be at the 
 factory, the hazel-nuts will come and we will make 
 oil, for it is all very fine for him to say that every 
 oil is good, we would be ruined if the public knew it. 
 If there did not enter into our oil a little hazel-nut 
 and perfume, under what pretext could we sell it at 
 three or four francs for four ounces?" 
 
 " You are going to be decorated, sir," said Popinot. 
 "What glory for—" 
 
 " For trade, is it not, my boy?" 
 
 Cesar Birotteau's triumphant air, sure of a for- 
 tune, was remarked by his clerks, who made signs 
 to one another, for the ride in the hack, the get-up 
 of the cashier and his employer had led them into 
 the most extravagant speculations. The mutual 
 satisfaction of Cesar and Anselme, betrayed by 
 diplomatically exchanged looks, the glance expressive 
 of hope that Popinot cast twice at Cesarine told of 
 some serious event and confirmed the clerks' con- 
 jectures. In that busy and quasi-claustral life the 
 most trifling happenings take on the interest that a 
 prisoner gives to those of his prison. The attitude 
 of Madame Cesar, who answered her husband's 
 Olympian looks with indications of doubt, told of a 
 new enterprise, for on ordinary occasions Madame 
 Cesar would have been satisfied, she whom the 
 success of the retail trade made joyful. It was 
 extraordinary that the receipts on that day amounted
 
 IN HIS GLORY I 57 
 
 to six thousand francs: people had come to pay 
 some bills in arrears. 
 
 The dining-room and the kitchen lighted from a 
 small court, and separated from the dining-room by 
 a passage on which opened the stairway built in a 
 corner of the room back of the shop, were in the 
 entresol, where formerly were the living rooms of 
 Cesar and Constance: the dining-room where the 
 honeymoon had been spent also had the appearance 
 of a little parlor. During dinner Raguet, the emer- 
 gency boy, watched the shop; but at dessert the 
 clerks went down again to the shop and left Cesar, 
 his wife and daughter to finish their dinner by the 
 fireside. This custom came from the Ragons, with 
 whom the ancient usages and customs of trade, 
 always in force, kept between them and the clerks 
 the enormous distance that formerly separated mas- 
 ters and apprentices. Cesarine or Constance then 
 prepared for the perfumer his cup of coffee, which 
 he took seated in a chair near the hearth. During 
 this hour Cesar informed his wife of the small hap- 
 penings of the day, he related what he had seen in 
 Paris, what was going on in the Faubourg du Temple, 
 and the difficulties of his factory. 
 
 " Wife," he said when the clerks had gone down, 
 "this is certainly one of the most important days 
 of our life! The hazel-nuts bought, the press 
 ready to work to-morrow, the land business con- 
 cluded. Here, hold fast, then, to this order on the 
 Bank, "he said, giving her Pillerault's check. "The 
 renovation of the tenement decided upon, the addition
 
 158 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 made to it. Good Heavens! what a very singular man 
 1 have seen in the Cour Batave!" 
 
 And he told about Monsieur Molineux. 
 
 "I see," his wife replied, interrupting him in the 
 middle of a tirade, "that you have run yourself 
 in debt to the amount of two hundred thousand 
 francs!" 
 
 "True, wife," said the perfumer with mock 
 humility, " How, for goodness' sake, shall we pay 
 that? For we must count as nothing the Madeleine 
 land, destined though it be to become one day the 
 most beautiful section of Paris." 
 
 "One day, Cesar." 
 
 " Alas!" he said, continuing his pleasantry, " my 
 three-eighths will be worth a million to me only in six 
 years. And how am I to pay two hundred thousand 
 francs?" continued Cesar, making a gesture of fear. 
 " Well, we will, however, pay it with that," he said, 
 as he drew from his pocket a hazel-nut that he had 
 picked up while visiting Madame Madou, and kept 
 most carefully. 
 
 He showed the nut between his two fingers to 
 Cesarine and Constance. His wife said nothing, 
 but Cesarine, in perplexity, said to her father while 
 serving him with the coffee: 
 
 "Ah, there! papa, you are laughing?" 
 
 The perfumer, as well as his clerks, had caught 
 during the dinner the glances cast by Popinot at 
 Cesarine, and he wanted some light thrown on his 
 suspicions. 
 
 " Well, daughter mine, this nut is the cause of a
 
 IN HIS GLORY 159 
 
 revolution in the household. After this evening 
 there will be someone less under our roof," 
 
 Cesarine looked at her father with the air of 
 wishing to say: " What does it matter to me!" 
 
 " Popinot is going away." 
 
 Though Cesar was a poor observer and had pre- 
 pared his last phrase as much to place a stumbling- 
 block in his daughter's way as to reach his 
 organizing of the house of A. Popinot and Company, 
 his paternal tenderness enabled him to see into the 
 confused feelings that spread from his daughter's 
 heart, bloomed as red roses on her cheeks and on 
 her brow, and colored her eyes, which she lowered. 
 Cesar then thought that some words had been 
 exchanged between Cesarine and Popinot. There 
 had been nothing of the sort. These two young 
 people understood each other, like all timid lovers, 
 without having exchanged a word.
 
 Some moralists think that love is the most invol- 
 untary, the most disinterested, the least calculating 
 of all the passions, except however, maternal 
 affection. This opinion involves a gross error. If 
 most men are ignorant of the reasons that lead to 
 love, every physical or moral sympathy is none 
 the less based on calculations made by the mind, 
 sentiment or brutality. Love is a purely egotistic 
 passion. Who speaks of egoism speaks of a profound 
 calculation. Thus, to every mind affected only by 
 results, it may seem at first glance improbable or sin- 
 gular to see a pretty girl like Cesarine taken with a 
 poor lame and red-haired youth. Nevertheless, this 
 phenomenon is in harmony with the arithmetic of 
 the feelings of the middle-classes. To explain it 
 will be to take account of marriages always regarded 
 with constant surprise and that take place between 
 tall, beautiful women and small men, between small, 
 ugly creatures and handsome youths. Every man 
 afflicted with a defect in any form, club-feet, limp- 
 ing, humped back, excessive ugliness, wine stains 
 scattered on the cheek, vine leaves, the Roguin in- 
 firmity and other monstrosities independent of the 
 subject's will, has only two parts to choose between: 
 either to make one's self dreaded or to acquire exqui- 
 site goodness; it is not allowable to him to fluctuate 
 between the middle terms habitual to most men. 
 II (i6i)
 
 l62 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 In the former case there is talent, genius or strength: 
 a man inspires terror only by the power of evil, 
 respect only by genius, fear only by great strength 
 of mind. In the second case he makes himself 
 adored, he lends himself admirably to the feminine 
 tyrannies, and knows better how to love than do 
 people of irreproachable corpulency. Brought up 
 by virtuous folk, by the Ragons, models of the most 
 honorable section of the middle-class, and by his 
 uncle. Judge Popinot, Anselme had been led, both 
 by his candor and by his religious feelings, to redeem 
 his slight physical defect with the perfection of his 
 character. Struck by this tendency which makes 
 youth so attractive, Constance and Cesar had often 
 praised Anselme in Cesarine's presence. Narrow 
 in other respects, those two shopkeepers were great 
 of soul and well understood the things of the heart. 
 These praises awake an echo in a young girl who, 
 despite her innocence, read in Anselme's eyes, pure 
 as they were, a violent passion, ever flattering, 
 whatever be the age, rank and form of the lover. 
 Little Popinot must have many more reasons than 
 a handsome man for loving a woman. If the woman 
 was pretty he would be madly in love on that account 
 until his dying day, his love would give him am- 
 bition, he would work himself to death to make 
 his wife happy, he would leave her mistress of 
 the home, he would go anticipate domination. 
 So thought Cesarine involuntarily and not so in- 
 considerately perhaps; she saw with a bird's-eye 
 view into the harvests of love and reasoned by
 
 IN HIS GLORY 163 
 
 comparison: her mother's happiness was present 
 to her mind, she desired no other life; her instinct 
 showed her in Anselme another Cesar, perfected 
 by education as she had been by hers. She dreamt 
 of Popinot as mayor of arrondissement, and was 
 pleased to picture herself as one day taking up 
 collections in her parish like her mother at Saint- 
 Roch. She came at last to ignoring the difference 
 that distinguished Popinot's left foot from his right, 
 she would be able to say: "But does he limp?" 
 She loved that eye-ball so limpid, and had been 
 pleased to see the effect produced by her look on 
 those eyes that shone at once with a modest fire 
 and drooped in melancholy mood. Roguin's chief 
 clerk, Alexandre Crottat, gifted with that precocious 
 experience due to attention to business, had a bear- 
 ing half cynical, half good-natured, which disgusted 
 Cesarine, already tired of the commonplaces of his 
 conversation. Popinot's silence betrayed a mild 
 disposition, she loved the half-melancholy smile with 
 which he noticed insignificant vulgarities; the foolish 
 things that made him smile always excited some 
 aversion in her, they smiled or were sad together. 
 This superiority did not keep Anselme from launching 
 into his work, and his indefatigable ardor pleased 
 Cesarine, for she surmised that, if the other clerks 
 said: 
 
 "Cesarine will marry Monsieur Roguin's chief 
 clerk," poor Anselme, lame and red-headed, would 
 not despair of winning her hand. Great hope proves 
 great love.
 
 l64 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 " Where is he going?" Cesarine asked her father, 
 trying to assume an air of indifference. 
 
 " He is setting up in the Rue des Cinq-Diamants! 
 and, faith, with the grace of God," said Birotteau, 
 whose exclamation was understood neither by his 
 wife nor by his daughter. 
 
 When Birotteau met with a moral difficulty, he 
 did as do insects before an obstacle, he threw him- 
 self to left or to right; he accordingly changed the 
 conversation, saying he wanted to chat with his wife 
 about Cesarine. 
 
 " I have told your uncle of your fears and ideas 
 about Roguin, and he set to laughing," said he to 
 Constance. 
 
 " You should never reveal what we say among our- 
 selves," Constance exclaimed. "This poor Roguin 
 is perhaps the most honest of men, he is fifty-eight 
 years old and no doubt no longer thinks — " 
 
 She stopped short on seeing that Cesarine was 
 paying attention, and by a glance directed Cesar's 
 look toward her. 
 
 ** I have done well, then, to close the matter," 
 said Birotteau. 
 
 " But you are master," she replied 
 
 Cesar took his wife's hands in his own and kissed 
 her forehead. This answer was always with her a 
 tacit consent to her husband's plans. 
 
 "Well," exclaimed the perfumer, as he went 
 down to his shop and spoke to his clerks, "the 
 shop will be closed at ten o'clock. Gentlemen, a 
 bold stroke. It is a matter of transferring all the
 
 IN HIS GLORY 165 
 
 furniture of the second floor to the third during the 
 night! We must, as people say, put all the small 
 vessels in the big ones, so as to leave elbow room 
 for my architect to-morrow. — Popinot has gone out 
 without permission," said Cesar, not seeing him. 
 "Oh! he does not sleep here, I forgot. — He has 
 gone, I suppose, either to put Monsieur Vauquelm's 
 ideas in order or to rent a shop." 
 
 " We know the cause of this moving," said 
 Celestin, speaking in the name of the other two 
 clerks and of Raguet, who were gathered behind 
 him. "May we be allowed to congratulate 
 Monsieur on an honor which reflects on the whole 
 shop? — Popinot has told us that Monsieur — " 
 
 "Well, boys, what do you think! they have 
 decorated me. And so, not only because of the 
 liberation of the territory, but also to have a feast 
 in honor of my promotion to the Legion of Honor, 
 we are going to have a gathering of our friends. I 
 have perhaps made myself worthy of this dis- 
 tinguished and royal favor by sitting in the consular 
 court and by fighting for the royal cause which 1 
 defended — , at your age, on the steps of Saint-Roch 
 on the thirteenth Vendemiaire; and, faith. Napoleon, 
 styled the Emperor, wounded me! I still carry the 
 scar on my thigh, and Madame Ragon nursed me. 
 Have courage, you will be rewarded! See, my boys, 
 how a mishap ever has its compensation." 
 
 " There will be no more fighting in the streets," 
 said Celestin. 
 
 "Let us hope so," said Cesar, who changed the
 
 l66 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 subject to give his clerks a lecture which he ended 
 with an invitation. 
 
 The prospect of a bail enlivened the three clerks, 
 Raguet and Virginia, so as to make them as dexterous 
 as rope-dancers. All passed up and down the stairs 
 loaded without breaking or upsetting anything. At 
 two o'clock in the morning the moving was com- 
 pleted. Cesar and his wife slept on the third floor. 
 Popinot's room became Celestin's and the second 
 clerk's. The fourth floor was a provisional store- 
 room for the furniture. 
 
 Possessed of that splendid ardor which is the pro- 
 duct of affluence of the nervous fluid and which 
 turns the diaphragm into a brazier in ambitious folk 
 or those in love who are taken up with great 
 schemes, Popinot, so mild and quiet, had pranced 
 like a race horse before starting, in the shop, after 
 leaving the table. 
 
 "What is the matter with you now?" Celestin 
 asked him. 
 
 " What a day! my dear fellow, I am setting up for 
 myself," he whispered in his ear, "and Monsieur 
 Cesar is decorated." 
 
 "You are very fortunate, the master is helping 
 you," exclaimed Celestin. 
 
 Popinot did not answer, but disappeared as if 
 driven by a furious gale, the hurricane of success. 
 
 "Oh! what good luck!" was the remark of a 
 clerk engaged in packing gloves by the dozen, to 
 his neighbor, who was verifying labels; " the master 
 saw the sheep's-eyes that Popinot was making at
 
 IN HIS GLORY 167 
 
 Cesarine, and as he is very shrewd, is this master, he 
 got rid of Anselme; it would be hard to refuse him, 
 seeing who his relations are. Celestin takes this 
 trick for generosity." 
 
 Anselme Popinot went down the Rue Saint- 
 Honore and ran along the Rue des Deux-Ecus, to 
 secure a young man whom his commercial second sight 
 had suggested to him as the chief instrument of his 
 fortune. Judge Popinot had done a service to the 
 most capable commercial traveler in Paris, to him 
 whose triumphant loquacity and activity gained for 
 him later on the surname lUiistrioiis. Specially con- 
 cerned with the hat trade and the article Paris, this 
 king of traveling salesmen was as yet known purely 
 and simply as Gaudissart. When only twenty-two 
 he had already distinguished himself by the power 
 of his commercial magnetism. Then spare, bright- 
 eyed, of expressive countenance, indefatigable 
 memory, able at a glance to take in every one's 
 tastes, he deserved to be what he has been since, 
 the king of commercial travelers, the Frenchman 
 preeminently. Some days previously Popinot had 
 met Gaudissart, who had said he was about to leave 
 town: the hope of still finding him in Paris had just 
 sent the lover into the Rue des Deux-Ecus, where he 
 learned that the traveler had kept his place, at the 
 conveyance office. By way of bidding farewell to 
 his dear capital, Gaudissart had gone to see a new 
 piece at the Vaudeville: Popinot resolved to wait for 
 him. To entrust the placing of the hazel-nut oil to 
 this valuable circulator of inventions in trade, already
 
 1 68 
 
 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 eagerly desired by the richest houses, was it not to 
 draw a bill of exchange on fortune? Popinot had 
 Gaudissart. The traveling agent, so skilled in the 
 art of getting around the most stubborn people, the 
 small provincial dealers, had allowed himself to be 
 wheedled into the first conspiracy against the Bour- 
 bons after the Hundred-Days. Gaudissart, to whom 
 an open-air life was indispensable, saw himself in 
 prison under the load of a capital charge. Judge 
 Popinot, assigned to pass on the indictment, had let 
 Gaudissart go free, finding that his foolish imprudence 
 alone had compromised him in this affair. With a 
 judge desirous of pleasing the powers that be, or of 
 exalted royalism, the unfortunate agent would have 
 gone to the scaffold. Gaudissart, who thought he 
 owed his life to the Committing Judge, was in deep 
 despair at being able to show his savior but barren 
 gratitude. It being out of order to thank a judge for 
 having done justice, he had gone to the Ragons to 
 declare himself a vassal of the Popinots. While 
 waiting, Popinot naturally went to take another look 
 at his shop in the Rue des Cinq-Diamants, to find 
 out the owner's address, so that he could treat with 
 him about the lease. While wandering in the dark 
 labyrinth of the great Market, thinking of the means 
 of organizing a speedy success, Popinot seized, in the 
 Rue Aubry-le-Boucher, a unique opportunity of 
 good augury with which he counted on regaling 
 Cesar on the morrow. While on guard at the door 
 of the Hotel Commerce, at the end of the Rue des 
 Deux-Ecus, about midnight, Popinot heard, as far
 
 IN HIS GLORY 169 
 
 away as the Rue de Crenelle, a farewell ballad sung 
 by Gaudissart, to the accompaniment of his cane 
 significantly dragged along the pavement. 
 
 '•Sir," said Anselme, leaving the door and sud- 
 denly showing himself, " a word or two with you?" 
 
 "A dozen, if you wish," said the commercial 
 traveler, raising his lead-loaded cane in defence 
 against the aggressor. 
 
 " 1 am Popinot," said poor Anselme. 
 
 "Quite right," said Gaudissart, recognizing him. 
 "What is it you wish? money? Absent on leave, 
 but we will find out. My arm for a duel? Every- 
 thing is yours, from the soles of my feet to the 
 crown of my head." 
 
 And he sung: 
 
 There, there's 
 The true French soldier bold ! 
 
 " Come and talk with me for ten minutes, not in 
 your room, some one might hear us, but on the 
 Quai de I'Horloge: at this hour there's no one 
 there," said Popinot; " it is a question of something 
 most important." 
 
 " To warm us up? Let us be off." 
 
 " In ten minutes Gaudissart, master of Popinot's 
 secrets, had realized their importance. 
 
 " Perfumers, hair-dressers and retailers, show 
 yourselves," exclaimed Gaudissart, mimicking Lafon 
 in the role of the Cid. " I am going to inveigle all 
 the shopkeepers of France and Navarre. Oh! an 
 idea! I was going to leave town, but I will stay and
 
 I70 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 take the orders of the whole perfumery trade of 
 Paris." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 "To down your rivals, you simpleton! When I 
 am taking their orders I can make their dastardly 
 cosmetics drink oil, by speaking and being con- 
 cerned only with yours. What a famous traveler's 
 trick! Ha! ha! we are the diplomats of trade. 
 Famous! And as for your prospectus, I will take 
 charge of that. I have had as a friend since 
 childhood Andoche Finot, son of the hatter in the 
 Rue du Coq, the old man who put me on the road 
 in the hat trade; Andoche, who has considerable 
 talent, for he took that of all the heads covered 
 by his father, is a literary man, and does all the 
 minor theatrical work for the Coiirrier des Spectacles. 
 His father, an old dog full of reasons for not 
 liking talent, does not believe in it: impossible to 
 prove to him that talent is sold, fortunes are made 
 by it. In the matter of talent, he knows only 
 how much three sixes make. Old Finot has a very 
 poor opinion of young Finot. Andoche, a capable 
 man and my friend besides, and I associate with 
 dolts only commercially, Finot is engaged on sketches 
 for the Fidlle Berger, that pays, while the newspapers 
 that give him the galley-fever feed him on snakes. 
 Are they jealous, and therefore adopt this 
 course? It is just as with the article Paris. Finot 
 had a superb comedy in one act for Mademoiselle 
 Mars, the most famous of the famous. Ah! there's 
 one of them that I love! Well, before he could see
 
 IN HIS GLORY 171 
 
 it played, he was compelled to take it to the Gaiete. 
 Andoche understands the prospectus business; he 
 enters into the dealer's ideas, he is not proud, he 
 will make a rough draft of our prospectus gratis. 
 Great Heavens, with a bowl of punch and cakes we 
 will fix him up; for, Popinot, no stuffing: I will 
 travel without commission or expenses, your com- 
 petitors will pay, I will gobble them up. Let us 
 understand each other clearly. For my part, this 
 success is a matter of honor. My reward is that I 
 be best man at your wedding! I will go to Italy, to 
 Germany, to England! I will take with me placards in 
 all languages, I will have them posted everywhere, 
 in the villages, at the church doors, at every favor- 
 able place that 1 know of in the provincial cities! It 
 will shine, it will show for itself, will this oil; it will 
 be on everybody's head. Ah! your marriage will 
 not be a sham, but a swell affair! You shall have 
 your Cesarine, or I will not becalled the ILLUSTRIOUS! 
 a name that old man Finot gave me. for having 
 made a success of his gray hats. In selling your 
 oil 1 remain in my role, the human head; the oil and 
 thehatare known as preservatives of the public hair." 
 Popinot returned to his aunt's, where he was to 
 sleep, in such a fever, caused by his prospect of 
 success, that the streets seemed to him to be streams 
 of oil. He slept little, dreamt that his hair was 
 growing in fantastic fashion, and saw two angels 
 that unrolled before his eyes, as in a melodrama, a 
 rubric on which was written: Cesarienne Oil. He 
 awoke, remembering this dream, and resolved to so
 
 172 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 call his hazel-nut oil, regarding this dream-fancy as 
 an order from Heaven. 
 
 Cesar and Popinot were in their workshop, in the 
 Faubourg du Temple, long before the arrival of the 
 hazel-nuts; while waiting for Madame Madou's 
 haulers Popinot triumphantly related his treaty of 
 alliance with Gaudissart. 
 
 "We have the illustrious Gaudissart, we are 
 millionaires!" exclaimed the perfumer, extending 
 his hand to his cashier with such an air as might 
 have been assumed by Louis XIV. receiving the 
 Marechal de Villars on his return from Denain. 
 
 "We have something else besides," said the 
 happy clerk, taking from his pocket a bottle crushed 
 after the manner of a pumpkin and fiat-shaped; " I 
 have found ten thousand flasks like this sample, 
 already made, prepared for use, at four sous and on 
 six months' time." 
 
 "Anselme," said Birotteau, contemplating the 
 flask's wonderful shape, "Yesterday " — he assumed 
 a grave tone — " in the Tuileries, yes, no longer ago 
 than yesterday, you said: * I will succeed.' As for 
 me, I say to-day: 'You will succeed!' Four sous! 
 six months' time; an original form! Macassar is 
 trembling in its boots. What a blow aimed at 
 Macassar oil! Haven't I done well to get all the 
 hazel-nuts to be had in Paris! Where, then, did 
 you find these flasks?" 
 
 " I was waiting for an opportunity to speak to 
 Gaudissart and I was sauntering — " 
 
 " Like me of old," exclaimed Birotteau.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 173 
 
 "On my way down the Rue Aubry-Ie-Boucher I 
 saw in a wholesale glass-ware place, that of a dealer 
 in blown glass and covers, who has immense stores, 
 I saw this flask. — Ah! it dazzled my eyes like a 
 sudden light. A voice cried out to me: * That's what 
 you're after!' " 
 
 " A born business man! He will have my daugh- 
 ter," said Cesar, muttering. 
 
 " I enter and I see thousands of these flasks in 
 cases." 
 
 " You at once asked all about them?" 
 
 "You do not think me so green!" Anselme ex- 
 claimed, as if he felt hurt. 
 
 "A born business man!" Birotteau repeated. 
 
 " I ask for some glass covers to put over little 
 wax figures of the Child Jesus. While bargaining 
 for the covers, I find fault with the form of these 
 flasks. Led on to a general confession, my merchant 
 acknowledges by degrees that Faille and Bouchot, 
 who lately failed, were going to undertake a cos- 
 metic and wanted flasks of singular form; he was 
 distrustful of them and asked half cash; Faille and 
 Bouchot, hoping to succeed, parted with the 
 money; the failure came suddenly while the flasks 
 were being made; the assignees, when asked to 
 pay, succeeded in compromising with him by leaving 
 him the flasks and the money paid, as an indemnity 
 for an article that he pretended was ridiculous and 
 could not possibly find a market. The flasks cost 
 eight sous; he would be satisfied to let them go for 
 four. God knows how long he would have to keep
 
 174 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 in storage a style that is not in the market. ' Will 
 you undertake to supply ten thousand at four sous? 
 I can help you to get rid of your flasks, as I am a 
 clerk with Monsieur Birotteau.' I broach it to him, 
 and I lead him on, and 1 get the better of my man, 
 and 1 warm him up, and he is ours." 
 
 "Four sous!" said Birotteau. "Do you know 
 that we can put the oil at three francs and make 
 thirty sous after allowing the retailers twenty.?" 
 
 " Cesarienne Oil!" exclaimed Popinot. 
 
 " Cesariemte Oil? — Ah! Mr. Lover, you want to 
 flatter the father and the daughter. Very well, be 
 it so; go for Cesarienne Oil! The Cesars had the 
 world, they must have had famous hair." 
 
 " Cesar was bald," said Popinot. 
 
 " Because he did not use our oil, people will say! 
 Cesarienne Oil for three francs; Macassar oil costs 
 double. Gaudissart is in it. We will make a hundred 
 thousand francs a year, for we will put on all heads 
 that respect themselves twelve flasks annually. 
 Eighteen francs! Say ten thousand heads, a hundred 
 and eighty thousand francs. We are millionaires." 
 
 The hazel-nuts delivered, Raguet, the workmen, 
 Popinot and Cesar, picked a sufficient quantity, and 
 within four hours they had a few pounds of oil. 
 Popinot went to present the product to Vauquelin, 
 who made a present to Popinot of a formula for 
 mixing the hazel-nut essence with less expensive 
 oleaginous substances and for scenting it. Popi- 
 not at once betook himself in haste to obtain a 
 patent of invention and perfecting. The devoted
 
 IN HIS GLORY I75 
 
 Gaudissart lent money for the fiscal right to Popinot, 
 whose ambition it was to pay his half of the expenses 
 of the establishment. 
 
 Prosperity brings in its train a false enthusiasm 
 that men of small ability never resist. This exalta- 
 tion had a result easy to be foreseen. Grindot 
 came and showed the colored sketch of a delightful 
 interior view of the future tenement adorned with 
 its furnishings. Birotteau was charmed and con- 
 sented to everything. Immediately, the masons 
 gave the pick-blows that made the house and 
 Constance tremble. His house-painter, Monsieur 
 Lourdois, a very rich contractor, who pledged him- 
 self not to overlook anything, spoke of gildings for 
 the parlor. On hearing this, Constance interposed. 
 
 " Monsieur Lourdois," she said, " you have thirty 
 thousand francs from the funds, you live in a house 
 all by yourself, you can do in it what you please; but 
 as for us — " 
 
 "Madame, trade must shine and not allow itself 
 to be crushed by the aristocracy. See, too. Mon- 
 sieur Birotteau in the Government, he is in evi- 
 dence — " 
 
 "Yes, but he is still a shopkeeper," said Con- 
 stance, in the hearing of her clerks and the five 
 persons who were listening to her; " neither I, nor 
 he, nor his friends, nor his enemies will forget it." 
 
 Birotteau arose on tiptoe and fell back on his 
 heels several times, his hands crossed behind him. 
 
 " My wife is right," he said. " We will be modest 
 in prosperity. Moreover, as long as a man is in
 
 176 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 trade, he ought to be careful in his expenses, 
 reserved in show. The law makes it an obliga- 
 tion for him. He must not give himself up to excessive 
 expenses. If the enlargement of my dwelling and 
 the decorating of it go above the limit, it would be 
 imprudent for me to exceed it; you, yourself, Lour- 
 dois, would blame me. The neighborhood has its 
 eyes on me. People who succeed make others 
 jealous, envious of them! Ah! you will soon know 
 that, young man," he said to Grindot; "if they 
 calumniate us, at least don't give them occasion for 
 slander." 
 
 "Neither calumny nor slander can hurt you," 
 said Lourdois; " you are in a privileged position, and 
 you have such a great aptitude for trade that you 
 know how to reason out what you undertake. You 
 are a sly one." 
 
 "True, I have had some experience of business; 
 you know why we have prospered? If I put a heavy 
 forfeit relatively on exactness, it is because — " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, my wife and I are going to have some 
 friends gathered as much to celebrate the deliverance 
 of the territory as to have a feast on account of my 
 promotion to the Order of the Legion of Honor." 
 
 " How, what?" said Lourdois. " They have con- 
 ferred the Cross on you?" 
 
 " Yes; perhaps I made myself worthy of this dis- 
 tinguished and royal favor by sitting in the consular 
 court and by fighting for the royal cause on the 
 thirteenth Vendemiaire, at Saint-Roch, where I was
 
 IN HIS GLORY 177 
 
 wounded by Napoleon. Come, and bring your wife 
 and your daugliter — " 
 
 " Delighted at the honor that you deign to do 
 me," said the Liberal Lourdois. " But you are a 
 droll fellow, old man Birotteau; you want to be 
 sure that I will not fail to keep my word with you, 
 and that is why you invite me. Well, 1 will take my 
 best workmen, and we will get up a hell-fire to dry 
 the painting; we have drying processes, for there 
 must be no dancing in a damp atmosphere due to the 
 plaster. We will put varnish on to remove all 
 odor." 
 
 Three days later the trade of the neighborhood 
 was astir over the announcement of the ball that 
 Birotteau was preparing. Everyone could, more- 
 over, see the external stays made necessary by the 
 rapid change of the stairway, the square wooden 
 chutes through which fell the rubbish into tumbrils 
 that were stationed there. The hurried laborers who 
 were working by torchlight, for there were day 
 laborers and night laborers, made idlers and the 
 curious stop in the street, and gossip relied on these 
 preparations to tell of enormous expenses. 
 
 On the Sunday fixed for the closing of the land 
 affair Monsieur and Madame Ragon and Uncle 
 Pillerault came about four o'clock, after Vespers. 
 In view of the wreck, Cesar said, he could invite on 
 that day only Charles Claparon, Crottat and Roguin. 
 The notary brought the Journal des Debuts, in which 
 Monsieur de la Billardiere had the following article 
 inserted: 
 12
 
 178 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 *' We learn that the deliverance of the territory will be 
 enthusiastically celebrated throughout the whole of France; 
 but in Paris the members of the municipal body have felt 
 that the moment had come to give to the capital that splendor 
 which, from a feeling of delicacy, had been interrupted during 
 the foreign occupation. Each of the mayors and their 
 deputies propose to give a ball: the winter promises, then, to 
 be a very brilliant one; this national movement will be 
 observed. Among all the feasts that are in preparation, there 
 is much talk of the ball at Monsieur Birotteau's, who has 
 been made a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and is so well 
 known for his devotedness to the royal cause. Monsieur 
 Birotteau, wounded in the action at Saint-Roch, on the 
 thirteenth Vendemiaire, and one of the most highly esteemed 
 of the consular judges, has doubly merited this favor." 
 
 " How well people write nowadays," exclaimed 
 Cesar. — " They speak of us in the newspapers," 
 said he to Pillerault. 
 
 " Well, after that?" replied his uncle, to whom 
 the Journal des Debats was particularly unfriendly. 
 
 " This article will perhaps sell some Sultana Paste 
 and Carminative IVater," said Madame Cesar in an 
 undertone to Madame Ragon, who did not share her 
 husband's enthusiasm.
 
 * 
 
 Madame Ragon, a large, withered and wrinkled 
 woman, with a pinched nose and thin lips, had an 
 affected air of a marchioness of the old court. Her 
 eyelids were spread out over a rather large circum- 
 ference, like those of old women who have felt 
 sorrows. Her severe and dignified countenance, 
 though pleasing, impressed one with respect. She 
 had in her, moreover, that something indescribably 
 strange which attracts without exciting a smile, and 
 which was explained by her dress and manner: 
 she wore mittens, she went out in all kinds of 
 weather with a cane-handled umbrella, like that 
 used by Queen Marie-Antoinette at Trianon; her 
 dress, the favorite color of which was that light- 
 brown called feuillemort, fell from her hips in unique 
 folds, known only to the dowagers of old; she 
 held on to the black mantle trimmed with black lace 
 with large square meshes; her bonnet, of antique 
 form, had trimmings that recalled the carvings of 
 the old open-cut frames. She took snuff with ex- 
 quisite cleanliness while making those gestures that 
 may be remembered by the young folks who have 
 had the happiness of seeing their grandaunts and 
 grandmothers solemnly place gold snuff-boxes 
 alongside of them, on a table, at the same time 
 brushing away the grains of snuff that had fallen on 
 their neckerchief. 
 
 (179)
 
 l80 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 The Sieur Ragon was a small man five feet high 
 at most, of the figure of a nut-cracker, in which one 
 saw only the eyes, two sharp cheek-bones, a nose 
 and a chin; toothless, clipping half of his words, 
 fluent in conversation, gallant, pretentious, and 
 ever smiling with the smile that he put on to receive 
 the fine ladies that various chances formerly brought 
 to his shop-door. Powder outlined on his cranium a 
 snowy half-moon well combed, flanked by two horns 
 separated by a small tuft tied with a ribbon. He 
 wore a blue-bottle coat, white vest, breeches and 
 stockings of silk, gold-buckle shoes, and black silk 
 gloves. His most striking characteristic was his 
 habit of holding his hat in his hand when walking 
 along the streets. He had the air of a messenger 
 of the House of Peers, of an usher of the king's 
 cabinet, of one of those folk who are placed near 
 any power whatever so as to be its reflection, while 
 remaining insignificant. 
 
 "Well, Birotteau," he said, in a commanding 
 tone, "do you repent, my boy, for having listened 
 to us on that occasion? Have we ever doubted the 
 gratitude of our well-beloved sovereigns?" 
 
 " You ought to be very happy, my dear little 
 woman," said Madame Ragon to Madame Birotteau. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied the perfumer's pretty 
 wife, ever under the charm of that cane-handled 
 umbrella, of those butterfly bonnets, of the neat- 
 fitting sleeves and the big neckerchief a la Julie 
 worn by Madame Ragon. 
 
 *' Cesarine is charming. — Come here, sweet 
 
 i 
 
 yt
 
 IN HIS GLORY l8l 
 
 child," said Madame Ragon in her falsetto voice and 
 with a patronizing air. 
 
 "Shall we attend to business before dinner?" 
 asked Uncle Pillerault. 
 
 "We are waiting for Monsieur Claparon," said 
 Roguin. " 1 left him dressing." 
 
 "Monsieur Roguin," said Cesar, "you took good 
 care to tell him that we dine in a mean little 
 entresol — " 
 
 "He found it superb sixteen years ago," said 
 Constance, murmuring. 
 
 — "Among the rubbish and in the presence 
 of workmen?" 
 
 " Bah! you are going to see a fine youth who is 
 not hard to please," said Roguin. 
 
 " I have put Raguet on duty in my shop. No one 
 enters any more by our door; you must have 
 observed that everything is demolished," said Cesar 
 to the notary. 
 
 " Why have you not brought your nephew here?" 
 said Pillerault to Madame Ragon. 
 
 " Shall we see him?" Cesarine asked. 
 
 "No, darling," said Madame Ragon. " Anselme 
 is working, the dear boy, fit to kill himself. That 
 airless and sunless street, that stinking Rue des Cinq- 
 Diamants gives me the horrors; the gutter is always 
 blue, green or black. I am afraid that he will 
 perish there. But when young folk get an idea in 
 their head!" she said to Cesarine, showing by a 
 gesture that the word head meant the word heart. 
 
 "He has signed his lease, then?" Cesar asked.
 
 1 82 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Yesterday, and before a notary," Ragon replied. 
 " He takes it for eighteen years, but they require 
 six months' rent in advance." 
 
 "Well, Monsieur Ragon, are you satisfied with 
 me?" asked the perfumer. " 1 have given him the 
 secret of a discovery — at last!" 
 
 "We know you by heart, Cesar," said Ragon, 
 taking Cesar's hands and pressing them with a 
 religious friendship. 
 
 Roguin was uneasy about Claparon's appearance 
 on the scene; the latter's manners and tone might 
 frighten virtuous bourgeois: he accordingly deemed 
 it necessary to prepare their minds for him. 
 
 "You are going to see," said he to Ragon, 
 Pillerault and the ladies, "a character who conceals 
 his ability under an unfavorable and repulsive ex- 
 terior; for, from very low origin, he has brought 
 himself into prominence by his ideas. He will, no 
 doubt, acquire good manners by the fact of having to 
 associate with bankers. You will, perhaps, meet him 
 on the boulevard or in a cafe, tippling, open-breasted, 
 playing billiards: he looks a tall, ungainly fellow. — 
 Well, no; he studies, and then thinks of giving a 
 boom to industry by new conceptions." 
 
 " I understand that," said Birotteau; "I have 
 found my best ideas while sauntering. Isn't that so, 
 dear?" 
 
 " Claparon," continued Roguin, " then, at night, 
 makes up for the time spent in looking up, in 
 working out business matters during the day. All 
 men of great talent lead a queer, inexplicable life. 
 
 n
 
 IN HIS GLORY 183 
 
 Well, in this unconnected way, and I can testify to 
 it, he reaches his end: he has succeeded in making 
 all the owners give in. They did not wish to, they 
 were doubtful of something. He mystified them, he 
 tired them out, he went to see them every day, and 
 we are, in consequence, masters of the property," 
 
 A singular broum ! broiun ! peculiar to drinkers of 
 small doses of brandy and other strong liquors, 
 announced the oddest personage of this history, and 
 the visible arbiter of Cesar's future destinies. The 
 perfumer hurried to the little dark stairway, as much 
 to tell Raguet to shut up the shop as to offer 
 Claparon his excuses for receiving him in the dining- 
 room. 
 
 "How so! Isn't one as well off there to chew 
 veg , to figure out business, I mean.?" 
 
 In spite of Roguin's shrewd preparations, Monsieur 
 and Madame Ragon, those well-bred bourgeois, the 
 observant Pillerault, Cesarine and her mother were 
 at first rather disagreeably impressed by this pre- 
 tended high-flying banker. 
 
 When only about twenty-eight years old this 
 former traveling agent had not a hair on his head, 
 and wore a wig frizzed in corkscrew fashion. This 
 head-dress requires a virgin freshness, a milky trans- 
 parency, the most charming feminine graces; it 
 accordingly brought out ignobly a blotched, red- 
 brown visage, florid as that of a stage-driver, and 
 the premature wrinkles of which expressed, by the 
 grimaces of their deep and plastered folds, a libertine 
 life, the ill effects of which were still further attested
 
 1 84 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 by the bad condition of the teeth and the black 
 spots scattered over a ruddy skin. Claparon had 
 the air of a provincial comedian jaded by his fa- 
 tigues, who knows every role, burlesques at fairs, 
 on whose cheek the red no longer remains, his lips 
 doughy, his tongue always lively, even when he is 
 drunk, his look devoid of modesty — in short com- 
 promising by his gestures. This face, inflamed 
 by the joyous kindling of punch, belied the gravity 
 of business. And so Claparon required long mimic 
 studies before he succeeded in settling down to a 
 bearing in harmony with his assumed importance. 
 Du Tillet had assisted in making up Claparon's 
 toilet, as a stage manager anxious about his chief 
 actor's first appearance, for he trembled lest the 
 coarse habits of that reckless life would break out 
 on the surface of the banker. 
 
 "Talk as little as possible," he had said to him. 
 "Never does a banker jabber: he acts, thinks, 
 meditates, listens and weighs. Thus, in order to 
 have all the airs of a banker, say nothing, or else 
 insignificant things. Suppress the wantonness of 
 your eye and make it look grave, at the risk of 
 rendering it dull. In politics, be for the Govern- 
 ment, and launch into generalities like these: The 
 budget is heavy. There is no possible agreement be- 
 tween the parties. The Liberals are dangerous. The 
 Bourbons ought to avoid all conflict. Liberalism is the 
 cloak for coalesced interests. The Bourbons are pre- 
 paring for us an era of prosperity. Let us support them, 
 if we do not love them. France has had enough political
 
 IN HIS GLORY 185 
 
 experiences, etc. Don't wallow on every table. 
 Remember that you have to maintain the dignity of 
 a millionaire. Don't take your snuff as an invalid 
 does; toy with your snuff box. Look often to the 
 floor or at the ceiling before answering, and, in fine, 
 assume the air of being profound. Especially, get 
 rid of your unfortunate habit of touching every- 
 thing. In society, a banker ought to seem weary of 
 touch. Ah, that's it! You sit up at night. Figures 
 make you stupid; you have to get together so many 
 elements to launch a matter of business! So much 
 study! Above all, have a great deal unfavorable to say 
 of business. Business is dull, heavy, hard, thorny. 
 Don't get away from that, and specify nothing. Do 
 not go to table humming your Beranger ballads, and 
 do not drink too much. If you get tipsy, you ruin 
 your future. Roguin will watch over you; you are 
 going to find yourself among moral folk, virtuous 
 bourgeois. Do not frighten them by letting loose 
 on them any of your tap-room principles." 
 
 This lecture had produced on Charles Claparon's 
 mind an effect like that produced on his person by 
 his new clothes. That gleeful, care-free man, every- 
 body's friend, accustomed to being carelessly clad 
 with loose garments, in which his body was no more 
 pinched than was his mind in his language, con- 
 strained in new clothes that the tailor kept for him 
 until he tried them on, stiff as a picket, restless in 
 his movements as his phrases, withdrawing his hand 
 imprudently stretched out for a flask or a box, just 
 as he stopped in the middle of a phrase, made
 
 1 86 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 himself then remarkable by an inconsistency that 
 was laughable to Pillerault's scrutiny. His red 
 face, his wanton corkscrew wig, belied his manners, 
 as his thoughts were in conflict with his sayings. 
 But the good bourgeois came to regard these con- 
 tinual discords as due to preoccupation. 
 
 " He has so much business," said Roguin. 
 
 " Business gives him little breeding," said Madame 
 Ragon to Cesarine. 
 
 Monsieur Roguin heard the expression and put his 
 finger to his lips. 
 
 "He is rich, shrewd, and exceedingly honest," 
 he said, leaning towards Madame Ragon. 
 
 " One can excuse him somewhat in favor of those 
 qualities," said Pillerault to Ragon. 
 
 "Let us read the deeds before dinner," said 
 Roguin; "we are alone." 
 
 Madame Ragon, Cesarine and Constance left the 
 contracting parties, Pillerault, Ragon, Cesar, Roguin 
 and Claparon, to listen to Alexandre Crottat reading. 
 
 Cesar signed, in favor of one of Roguin's clients, 
 a bond for forty thousand francs, secured by mort- 
 gage of the land and the factories situated in the 
 Faubourg du Temple; he turned over to Roguin, 
 Pillerault's order on the bank, gave without receipt 
 the twenty thousand francs in his portfolio and the 
 hundred and forty thousand francs in notes payable 
 to the order of Claparon. 
 
 "I have no receipt to give you," said Claparon. 
 " You will deal on your part with Monsieur Roguin 
 as we on ours. Our sellers receive from him their
 
 IN HIS GLORY 187 
 
 price in casii. I pledge myself to nothing but to find 
 for you tiie balance of your share in notes for your 
 hundred and forty thousand francs." 
 
 " That is all right," said Pillerault. 
 
 "Very well, gentlemen, let us call the ladies 
 back; for isn't it cold without them?" saidClaparon, 
 looking at Roguin as if to find out whether the 
 pleasantry was not too strong. 
 
 " Ladies! — Oh! the young lady is no doubt your 
 daughter," said Claparon, as he stood erect and 
 looked at Birotteau. "Well, you are not a bad 
 hand at it. None of the roses that you have 
 distilled can be compared with her, and perhaps it is 
 because you have distilled roses that — " 
 
 "Faith," said Roguin, interrupting, "I must 
 acknowledge that I am hungry." 
 
 " Very well, let us go to dinner," said Birotteau. 
 
 "We are going to dine in the presence of a 
 notary," said Claparon, bridling up. 
 
 " You do a great deal of business?" said Pillerault, 
 seating himself at the table intentionally near 
 Claparon. 
 
 " A very great deal, by the wholesale," replied 
 the banker; "but it is dull, thorny; there are the 
 canals. Oh! the canals! You could not figure out 
 how the canals keep me engaged! and that is easily 
 understood. The Government wants canals. The 
 canal is a necessity that makes itself generally felt 
 m the Departments and that concerns all branches 
 of trade, you know! Rivers, Pascal says, are 
 moving highways. Markets, then, are needed. The
 
 1 88 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 markets depend on the excavations, for there are 
 frightful embankments, and the embankment con- 
 cerns the poorer classes, whence loans, in a word, 
 are given to the poor! Voltaire said: Canaux, 
 canards, caftaille! But the Government has its 
 engineers who enlighten it: it is hard to take it in, 
 except by having an understanding with them; for 
 the Chamber! — Oh! sir, the Chamber does us harm! 
 It does not want to understand the political question 
 hidden behind the financial question. There is bad 
 faith on both sides. Would you believe one thing? 
 The Kellers, well, Francois Keller is an orator; he 
 attacks the Government in regard to funds, in 
 regard to canals. Having returned to his home, my 
 jolly fellow finds us with our propositions. They are 
 favorable. We must have an understanding with this 
 said Government, just a moment ago insolently 
 attacked. The orator's interests and those of the 
 banker come in conflict; we are between two fires! 
 You understand now how business becomes thorny. 
 We have to please so many people: clerks, chambers, 
 ante-chambers, ministers — " 
 
 "Ministers?" remarked Pillerault, who was bent 
 on seeing through this co-partner. 
 
 "Yes, sir, ministers." 
 
 " Well, the newspapers are right, then," said 
 Pillerault. 
 
 "Just see my uncle in politics," said Birotteau, 
 " Monsieur Claparon is pleasing him." 
 
 "Ever mischievous dogs," said Claparon; "that's 
 all these newspapers are! Sir, the newspapers mix
 
 IN HIS GLORY 189 
 
 up everything for us; they serve us well sometimes, 
 but they make me spend some restless nights. I 
 would prefer to spend them otherwise; in short, 1 
 have lost my sight through reading and calculating." 
 
 " Let us return to the ministers," said Pillerault, 
 hoping for revelations. 
 
 "The ministers have purely governmental exi- 
 gencies. But what's that I am eating, food for the 
 gods?" Claparon asked, interrupting himself. 
 "Some of those sauces that one eats only in 
 bourgeois houses; never in eating-houses — " 
 
 At this expression the flowers on Madame Ragon's 
 bonnet bounded like rams. Claparon saw that he 
 had been guilty of vulgarity, and wanted to take it 
 back. 
 
 "In high banking circles," he said, "the head 
 cooks of swell saloons are called hashers, like Very 
 and the Freres Provengaux. Well, neither these 
 disreputable hashers nor our skilled cooks give us 
 mellow sauces. The first give us clear water acidu- 
 lated with lemon, the others practice chemistry." 
 
 The whole dinner time was spent in attacks on 
 the part of Pillerault, who aimed to sound this man, 
 and who found only vacuum; he regarded him as a 
 dangerous man. 
 
 " Everything is going well," whispered Roguin in 
 Charles Claparon's ear. 
 
 " Ah! I will no doubt get into undress this 
 evening," replied Claparon, who was suffocating. 
 
 "Sir," said Birotteau to him, "if we are obliged 
 to make the salon of the dining-room, it is because
 
 1 90 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 in eighteen days we will have a gathering of some 
 friends here, as much to celebrate the deliverance of 
 the territory — " 
 
 " Good, sir; as for myself, I am also the man of 
 the Government. I belong, by my opinions, to the 
 statu quo of the great man who directs the destinies 
 of the House of Austria, a famous, jolly good fellow! 
 To keep in order to acquire, and especially to acquire 
 in order to keep — that is the sum and substance of 
 my opinions, which have the honor of being those of 
 Prince Metternich." 
 
 " — As to have a feast in honor of my promotion 
 to the Order of the Legion of Honor," continued 
 Cesar. 
 
 " Oh, yes! I know. Who, then, told me of that.? 
 the Kellers or Nucingen?" 
 
 Roguin, surprised at such coolness, made a gesture 
 of admiration. 
 
 " Ah! no, it was in the Chamber." 
 
 "In the Chamber, from Monsieur de la Billar- 
 di^re?" Cesar asked. 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " He is delightful," said Cesar to his uncle. 
 
 "He drops phrases, phrases," said Pillerault, 
 "phrases in which one is swamped." 
 
 " Perhaps I have made myself worthy of this 
 favor — " Birotteau continued. 
 
 " By your labors in perfumery: the Bourbons 
 know how to reward all merits. Ah! let us give 
 credit for it to these generous legitimate princes, to 
 whom we are about to owe unheard-of prosperity —
 
 IN HIS GLORY I9I 
 
 for, you may well believe, the Restoration feels 
 that it ought to measure lances with the Empire; it 
 will make conquests in time of profound peace. You 
 will see conquests! — " 
 
 " The gentleman will, no doubt, do us the honor 
 of attending our ball?" said Madame Cesar. 
 
 " To spend an evening with you, madame, 1 would 
 give up a chance of making millions." 
 
 " He is decidedly quite loquacious," said Cesar to 
 his uncle. 
 
 Whilst the glory of the perfumery business, in its 
 decline, was shedding its last rays, a star was rising 
 feebly on the commercial horizon. Little Popinot 
 was at that very moment laying the foundations of 
 his fortune, in Rue des Cinq-Diamants, a narrow 
 little street through which loaded wagons pass with 
 great difficulty, that opens on the Rue des Lombards 
 at one end, and at the other on the Rue Aubry-le- 
 Boucher, opposite the Rue Quincampoix, a famous 
 street of old Paris, in which the history of France 
 has been so much illustrated, in spite of this dis- 
 advantage, the close proximity of the dealers in drugs 
 makes this street favorable, and, in this respect, 
 Popinot had not made a bad choice. The house, 
 the second on the side towards the Rue des Lom- 
 bards, was so dark that, on certain days, it needed 
 to be lit up in full day. The beginner had taken 
 possession, the evening before, of the darkest and 
 most disgusting of places. His predecessor, a dealer 
 in molasses and raw sugar, had left the marks of 
 his trade on the walls, in the court and in the
 
 192 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 store-rooms. Picture to yourself a large and spacious 
 shop with heavy iron-bound doors, painted dragon- 
 green, with exposed long iron bands, adorned with 
 nails whose heads resembled mushrooms, provided 
 with grating latticed with iron bars and with a 
 projection below like those of the bakers of old — in 
 fine, with great white stone slabs, most of them 
 broken, the walls yellow and bare as those of a 
 guard-house. Next came a rear shop and a kitchen, 
 lighted from the court; finally, a second store turning 
 back, which formerly must have been a stable. 
 One ascended, by an interior stair-case, built in the 
 rear shop, to two rooms lighted from the street, which 
 Popinot intended to use as his office and for his 
 books and cash. Above the stores were three small 
 rooms backed by the party wall, looking out on the 
 court, and in which he proposed to dwell. Three 
 dilapidated rooms, which had no other outlook, but 
 that on the irregular court, dark, surrounded by 
 walls, where the moisture, in the driest time, gave 
 them the appearance of being freshly painted in 
 stone color; a court between the paving stones of 
 which was found a black and noisome filth due to 
 the occupation by the molasses and the raw sugar. 
 Only one of the rooms had a fire-place; all were un- 
 papered, and paved with square tiles. Since morn- 
 ing, Gaudissart and Popinot, assisted by a journey- 
 man paper-hanger, whom the traveling agent had 
 hunted up, were themselves hanging a fifteen-sou 
 paper in this horrible room, sized by the jour- 
 neyman. A collegian's bed, with a red, wooden
 
 IN HIS GLORY 
 
 193 
 
 bedstead, a very poor night-chair, an antique chest of 
 drawers, a table, two arm-chairs and six ordinary 
 chairs, given by Judge Popinot to his nephew, made 
 up the furniture. Gaudissart had put on the chimney- 
 piece a pier-glass, with a very mean mirror, bought 
 second-hand. About eight o'clock in the evening, 
 seated before the fire-place, in which blazed a lighted 
 faggot, the two friends were going to dispose of what 
 was left of their breakfast. 
 
 " The cold leg of mutton to the rear! that is not 
 suitable to a house-warming," exclaimed Gaudissart. 
 
 "But," said Popinot, showing his last twenty- 
 franc piece, which he was keeping to pay for the 
 prospectus, " I — " 
 
 " \?" said Gaudissart, as he placed a forty-franc 
 piece on his eye. 
 
 A heavy knock then resounded in the court, 
 naturally lonely and sonorous on Sunday, the day 
 on which the industrial class dissipate and abandon 
 their workshops. 
 
 " That is the faithful fellow from Rue de la Poterie. 
 As for me," continued the Illustrious Gaudissart, 
 "I have ! and not /.'" 
 
 In fact, a young man, followed by two scullions, 
 brought, in three hand-baskets, a dinner fortified 
 with six bottles of wine carefully selected. 
 
 " But how will we be able to dispose of so much?" 
 said Popinot. 
 
 " And the man of letters!" exclaimed Gaudis- 
 sart. " Finot knows the pomps and the vanities. He 
 will come, artless youth! armed with a startling 
 13
 
 194 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 prospectus. That's a pretty word, eh! Prospectuses 
 are always thirsty. We must water the seed if we 
 would have flowers. Go, slaves," he said to the 
 scullions, with an important air, " here's gold." 
 
 He gave them ten sous with a gesture worthy of 
 Napoleon, his idol. 
 
 "Thanks, Monsieur Gaudissart," replied the 
 scullions, better pleased at the pleasantry than with 
 the money. 
 
 "As for you, my boy," he said to the young 
 man who remained to wait on them, "there is a 
 portress who sleeps in the depths of a den where 
 sometimes she cooks, as Nausicaa of old did wash- 
 ing, for pure relaxation. Get you to her, implore 
 her to be candid, interest her, young man, in the 
 warming of these dishes. Tell her that she will 
 be blessed, and especially respected, very much 
 respected, by Felix Gaudissart, son of Jean-Francois 
 Gaudissart, grandson of the Gaudissarts, base 
 proletaires very remote, his ancestors. Hurry up 
 and see that everything is all right, else I will sing 
 you a different tune in C major!" 
 
 Another heavy knock resounded. 
 
 " That is the witty Andoche," said Gaudissart. 
 
 A stout youth, rather chubfaced, of medium 
 height, and who, from head to foot, resembled a 
 hatter's son, of round features in which cunning 
 was buried under a serious manner, suddenly made 
 his appearance. His countenance, sad-looking like 
 that of a man tired of misery, assumed an expression 
 of hilarity when he saw the table set and the bottles
 
 IN HIS GLORY 195 
 
 with significant wrappings. On hearing Gaudissart's 
 voice his pale blue eye sparkled, his large head, sunk 
 by his Kalmuk figure, moved from right to left, and 
 he saluted Popinot in a strange manner, without 
 either servility or respect, like a man who feels him- 
 self out of place and makes no concession. He then 
 began to feel in himself that he had no literary 
 talent; he thought of remaining in literature for what 
 he could make out of it, to rise in it on the shoulders 
 of witty folk, to make a business of it instead of 
 producing poorly paid work; at that moment, after 
 having exhausted the humility of offers and the 
 humiliation of attempts, he was going, like people of 
 high financial aims, to turn back and become imper- 
 tinent from set purpose. But he needed the capital 
 to start. Gaudissart had given him the chance by 
 broaching to him the advertising of Popinot's oil. 
 
 "You will deal on his account with the newspapers, 
 but do not spoil it; if you do, we will have a duel to 
 the death; give him something for his money!" 
 
 Popinot looked at the author with a feeling of unea- 
 siness. People who are truly commercial look upon 
 an author with a feeling that partakes somewhat of 
 terror, compassion and curiosity. Though Popinot 
 had been well reared, his parents' habits, their ideas, 
 the dulling cares of a shop and of a counting-house 
 had modified his intelligence by adapting it to the 
 uses and customs of his profession, a phenomenon 
 that may be observed by remarking the metamor- 
 phoses undergone in an interval of ten years by a 
 hundred comrades leaving college or boarding-school
 
 196 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 almost similarly equipped. Andoche regarded this 
 look as an evidence of profound admiration. 
 
 "Very well, before having dinner let us thor- 
 oughly go over the prospectus; we will be able to 
 drink without distraction," said Gaudissart. "After 
 dinner one reads badly. Conversation also digests." 
 
 "Sir," said Popinot, "a prospectus is often a 
 whole fortune." 
 
 " And for plebeians like me, fortune is only a 
 prospectus," said Andoche. 
 
 "Ha! very well said," said Gaudissart. "This 
 droll Andoche is as witty as the Forty." 
 
 "As a hundred," said Popinot, stupefied at this 
 idea. 
 
 The impatient Gaudissart took the manuscript and 
 read in a loud voice and with emphasis: CEPHALIC 
 Oil! 
 
 " I would prefer Cesarine Oil," said Popinot. 
 
 "My friend," said Gaudissart, " you do not know 
 the provincial folk: there is a surgical operation of 
 a similar name, and they are so stupid that they 
 would think your oil was intended to facilitate child- 
 birth; to bring them from that idea to the hair would 
 take too much pulling." 
 
 " Without desiring to defend my expression," said 
 the author, "I beg to tell you that Cephalic Oil means 
 oil for the head, and sums up your ideas." 
 
 " Let us see," said the impatient Popinot. 
 
 Here is the prospectus, such as the trade receives 
 it by the thousand even nowadays. — Another con- 
 firmatory document. —
 
 IN HIS GLORY 
 
 197 
 
 GOLD MEDAL AT THE EXPOSITION OF 1824. 
 
 CEPHALIC OIL. 
 
 Patents for Invention and Improvement. 
 
 No cosmetic can make the hair grow, just as no chemical 
 preparation dyes it without danger to the seat of the intellect. 
 Science has recently declared that the hair is a dead substance, 
 and that no agency can prevent it from falling out or turning 
 white. To prevent xerasia and baldness, it suffices to pre- 
 serve the bulb from which it springs from every external 
 atmospheric influence, and to keep in the head the warmth 
 that is necessary to it. Cephalic Oil, based on these principles, 
 established by the Academy of Science, produces this impor- 
 tant result, believed in by the ancients, the Romans, the 
 Greeks and the Northern nations, who set a high value on 
 the hair. Learned researches have shown that the nobles, 
 who were of old distinguished for the length of their hair, 
 used no other means ; only their process, skilfully discovered 
 by A. Popinot, the inventor of Cephalic Oil, had been lost. 
 
 To preserve, instead of trying to promote, an impossible or 
 injurious stimulation of the derm that contains the bulbs, is.
 
 198 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 then, the purpose of Cephalic Oil. Indeed this oil, which stops 
 the exfoliation of the pellicles, which exhales a sweet odor, 
 and which, owing to the substances composing it, into which 
 enters, as a chief element, hazel-nut essence, is proof against 
 all action of the external air on the head, and thus prevents 
 colds, coryza, and all the painful affections of the encephalon, 
 by leaving it its internal temperature. In this way the bulbs 
 that contain the generative liquor of the hair are never 
 attacked either by cold or by heat. The hair,— that magnifi- 
 cent product, — to which both men and women attach so much 
 value, then keeps, by means of Cephalic Oil, until the person 
 using it reaches old age, that lustre, that fineness, that fresh- 
 ness which make children's heads so charming. 
 
 Instructions for using accompany each flask and serve as a 
 wrapper for it. 
 
 MODE OF USING THE CEPHALIC OIL. 
 
 It is quite useless to oil the hair ; it is not only a ridiculous 
 prejudice, it is also a troublesome habit, in the sense that the 
 cosmetic leaves its trace everywhere. It suffices every morn- 
 ing to wet a small fine sponge in the oil, to lift up the hair 
 with a comb, to saturate the hair at its roots at each parting, 
 so that the skin receives a light layer, after having previously 
 cleansed the head with brush and comb. 
 
 This oil is sold in flasks bearing the inventor's signature, 
 so as to prevent all counterfeiting, and at the price of three 
 FRANCS, at A. POPINOT'S, Ruedes Cinq-Diamants, Quar- 
 tier des Lombards, Paris. 
 
 PEOPLE ARE ASKED TO WRITE PREPAID- 
 
 Note.—lht house of A. Popinot also keeps the oils of the 
 drug trade, such as neroli, aspic oil, sweet almond oil cacao 
 oil, coffee oil, Palma Christi oil, and others. 
 
 " My dear friend," said the Illustrious Gaudissart 
 to Finot, " it is perfectly written. Zounds, how we 
 are getting to the higher science! We are not going 
 by twists and turns; we are going direct to the fact.
 
 IN HIS GLORY I99 
 
 Ah! I offer you my sincere congratulations. This is 
 useful literature." 
 
 "What a fine prospectus!" said Popinot, with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 "A prospectus whose first word kills Macassar," 
 said Gaudissart, rising with a magisterial air to pro- 
 nounce the following words which he scanned with 
 parliamentary gestures: " ' No one — can — make — 
 the hair — grow! no one — dyes— it — without — dan- 
 ger!' Ha! ha! there is success. Modern science 
 is in accord with the habits of the ancients. One 
 can have an understanding with the old and with the 
 young. You have to deal with an old man: ' Ah! ha! 
 sir, the ancients, the Greeks, the Romans, were 
 right, and were not so stupid as some would like to 
 make us believe!' You are treating with a young 
 man. * My dear boy, one more discovery due to the 
 progress of enlightenment. We are progressing. 
 What may we not expect from steam, the telegraph 
 and other things! This oil is the result of a report 
 made by Monsieur Vauquelin!' Suppose we print a 
 passage of Monsieur Vauquelin's memoir to the 
 Academy of Science, confirming our assertions, eh! 
 Famous! Let us go to table, Finot! Let us chew the 
 vegetables! Let us guzzle the champagne to the 
 success of our young friend!" 
 
 " I thought," said the author, modestly, " that the 
 time for light and jocular prospectuses had passed. 
 We are entering on the period of science; we must 
 have a doctoral air, a tone of authority, in order to 
 impose on the public."
 
 200 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "We will warm that oil; my feet are itching, and 
 so is my tongue. I have the orders of all those who 
 deal in hair. No one gives over thirty per cent any 
 more; one must make forty per cent discount. I 
 answer for a hundred thousand bottles in six months. 
 I will attack pharmacists, grocers, hair-dressers! and, 
 by giving them forty per cent, all will gull their 
 customers." 
 
 The three young men ate like lions, drank like 
 Swiss, and became intoxicated over the future suc- 
 cess of the Cephalic Oil. 
 
 "This oil goes to the head," said Finot, smiling. 
 
 Gaudissart exhausted the different series of puns 
 on the words oil, hair, head, etc. In the midst of 
 the Homeric laughter of the three friends, as dessert, 
 in spite of the toasts and the reciprocal wishes for 
 success, a loud knock resounded and was heard. 
 
 " It is my uncle! It is like him to come to see me," 
 exclaimed Popinot. 
 
 "An uncle.?" said Finot; "and we haven't a 
 glass!" 
 
 " My friend Popinot's uncle is a committing 
 judge," said Gaudissart to Finot. " It is not a ques- 
 tion of mystifying him; he saved my life. Ah! when 
 one has found himself in the pass in which I was, in 
 sight of the scaffold, where kouik, and good-by to 
 your hair!" he said, imitating the fatal blade with a 
 gesture, " one remembers the worthy magistrate to 
 whom one is indebted for having the pipe through 
 which champagne passes! One remembers him 
 even when dead drunk. You do not know, Finot,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 20I 
 
 whether you may not need Monsieur Popinot. 
 Zounds, toasts are necessary and six to the franc still. " 
 
 The noble committing judge called, in effect, to 
 his nephew from the gate. On recognizing the voice, 
 Anselme went down, holding a candlestick in his 
 hand to show the way. 
 
 "I salute you, gentlemen," said the magistrate. 
 
 The Illustrious Gaudissart bowed profoundly. 
 Finot examined the judge with a tipsy eye, and 
 found him passably thick-skulled. 
 
 " There is no luxury here," gravely remarked 
 the judge, as he looked around the room; " but, my 
 boy, to be something great, you must know how to 
 begin by being nothing." 
 
 "What a profound man!" said Gaudissart to 
 Finot. 
 
 "A thought for an article," said the newspaper 
 man. 
 
 " Ah! there you are, sir," said the judge, as he 
 recognized the traveling agent. "Eh! what are you 
 doing here?" 
 
 " Sir, I wish to contribute with all my little might 
 to your dear nephew's success. We have just been 
 meditating on the prospectus for his oil, and you see 
 in this gentleman the author of this prospectus, 
 which seems to us one of the finest pieces of this wig 
 literature." 
 
 The judge looked at Finot. 
 
 " The gentleman," said Gaudissart, " is Monsieur 
 Andoche Finot, one of the most distinguished young 
 men in literature, who writes up in the Government
 
 202 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 newspapers the more important politics and the 
 minor theatricals; and is now fairly on the way to 
 being an author." 
 
 Finot pulled the skirt of Gaudissart's frock-coat. 
 
 " Good, my boys," said the judge, to whom these 
 words explained the appearance of the table, on 
 which were seen the remains of a feast that was 
 quite excusable. "My friend," said the judge to 
 Popinot, " get dressed. We are going this evening to 
 Monsieur Birotteau's, to whom I owe a visit. You 
 will sign your partnership deed, which I have 
 carefully examined. As you will have your oil 
 factory on the land in the Faubourg du Temple, I 
 think he ought to give you a lease of the workshop, 
 with the right of assignment. When matters are 
 in good shape they save discussion. These walls to 
 me seem damp; Anselme, put straw mats where 
 your bed is to be." 
 
 " Excuse me, Monsieur le Juge," said Gaudis- 
 sart, with the slyness of a courtier, "we have 
 ourselves hung this paper this very day, and — it — 
 has not — dried — yet." 
 
 " Economy! good," said the judge. 
 
 " Listen," said Gaudissart in Finot's ear. "My 
 friend Popinot is a virtuous young man; he is going 
 with his uncle. Let us go and spend the rest of the 
 evening with our fair friends." 
 
 The newspaper man showed the lining of his vest 
 pocket. Popinot saw the movement, and passed 
 twenty francs to the author of his prospectus. The 
 judge had a hackney-coach at the end of the street,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 203 
 
 and took his nephew to Birotteau's. Pillerault, 
 Monsieur and Madame Ragon and Roguin were 
 playing boston, and Cesarine was embroidering a 
 neckerchief, when Judge Popinot and Anselme made 
 their appearance. Roguin, who sat opposite to 
 Madame Ragon, near whom was Cesarine, remarked 
 the girl's pleasure when she saw Anselme enter; 
 and, by a sign, he called his chief clerk's attention 
 to her blushing as red as a pomegranate. 
 
 "It will, then, be the day of deeds?" said the 
 perfumer when, the salutations being over, the judge 
 had told him the reason for his visit. 
 
 Cesar, Anselme and the judge went to the third 
 floor, to the perfumer's emergency room, to discuss 
 the lease and the deed of partnership drawn up by 
 the magistrate. The lease was consented to for 
 eighteen years, in order to make it agree with that of 
 the Rue des Cinq-Diamants, an apparently unimpor- 
 tant circumstance, but one that later on served Birot- 
 teau's interests. When Cesar and the judge 
 returned to the entresol, the magistrate, astonished 
 at the general upset and the workmen's presence on 
 Sunday at the house of a man so religious as was the 
 perfumer, asked the reason for it, and the perfumer 
 had him there. 
 
 " Though you be not a worldly man, sir, you will 
 not think it ill that we should celebrate the deliver- 
 ance of the territory. That is not all. If I gather 
 together some friends, it is also to have a feast in 
 honor of my promotion to the Order of the Legion of 
 Honor."
 
 204 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Ah!" remarked the judge, who was not deco- 
 rated. 
 
 " Perhaps I have made myself worthy of this 
 distinguished and royal favor by sitting in the Tribu- 
 nal—oh! of Commerce, and fighting for the Bour- 
 bons on the steps — " 
 
 "Yes," said the judge. 
 
 "_Of Saint-Roch, on the thirteenth Vendemiaire, 
 where I was wounded by Napoleon." 
 
 " By all means," said the judge, "if my wife 
 be not ill, I will bring her." 
 
 " Xandrot," said Roguin, on the door-step, to his 
 clerk, "do not think on any account of marrying 
 Cesarine, and in six weeks you will see that I have 
 given you good advice." 
 
 "Why?" asked Crottat. 
 
 " Birotteau, my dear fellow, is going to spend a 
 hundred thousand francs on his ball. He has risked 
 his fortune in this business of the land in spite of 
 my advice. In six weeks those folks will not have 
 even bread. Marry Mademoiselle Lourdois, the 
 house painter's daughter; she has three hundred 
 thousand francs dowry. I have managed this shift 
 for you! If you only give me a hundred thousand 
 francs as a consideration for my office, you can have 
 it to-morrow."
 
 * 
 
 The magnificence of the ball that the perfumer 
 was preparing, announced throughout Europe by 
 the newspapers, was quite otherwise heralded in 
 trade by the rumors occasioned by the work going 
 on day and night. Here, it was said that Cesar 
 had rented three houses; there, that he was having 
 his parlors gilded; farther on, the banquet was to 
 have dishes invented for the occasion; over there, 
 merchants, it was said, would not be invited to it, the 
 feast was to be given for employes of the Govern- 
 ment; this way, the perfumer was severely criticised 
 for his ambition, and people made fun of his political 
 pretensions, denied that he had been wounded! 
 The ball was the occasion of more than one intrigue 
 in the second arrondissement; friends were peace- 
 fully disposed, but the pretensions of mere acquaint- 
 ances were truly wonderful. Every favor brings 
 courtiers. There were quite a number of people to 
 whom their invitation cost more than one application. 
 The Birotteaus were astounded at the number of 
 friends whom they did not recognize. This pressure 
 frightened Madame Birotteau; her mien became day 
 by day more and more sombre, as this solemnity 
 approached. At first she acknowledged to Cesar 
 that she never knew what face to put on. She was 
 frightened at the innumerable details of such a 
 feast: where find plate, glassware, refreshments, 
 
 (205)
 
 206 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 dishes, service? And who, then, would superintend 
 everything? She entreated Birotteau to take his 
 stand at the entrance to their tenement and not let 
 anyone pass in, but those who had been invited. 
 She had heard strange things told about people who 
 came to bourgeois balls, claiming to be friends of 
 those whom they could not name. When, ten days 
 before, Braschon, Grindot, Lourdois and Chaffa- 
 roux, the building contractor, had asserted that the 
 tenement would be ready for the famous Sunday, 
 December 17, there was a laughable conference in 
 the evening, after dinner, in the modest little parlor 
 of the entresol, between Cesar, his wife and his 
 daughter, to make up the list of the guests and 
 send out the invitations, which that morning a 
 printer had sent printed in beautiful English style, 
 on rose-tinted paper, and according to the formula 
 of the code of puerile and honest civility. 
 
 "Ah, now! let us not forget anybody," said 
 Birotteau. 
 
 "if we forget anyone," said Constance, "they 
 will never forget us. Madame Derville, who had 
 never paid us a visit, landed here yesterday evening 
 in a four-in-hand." 
 
 " She looked fine," said Cesarine; " I was pleased 
 with her." 
 
 " Yet before her marriage she was even less than 
 1," said Constance; "she worked on linen, on Rue 
 Montmartre, making shirts at her father's." 
 
 "Well, let us begin the list," said Birotteau, 
 "with the most swell people. Cesarine, write:
 
 IN HIS GLORY 207 
 
 Monsieur le Due and Madame la Duchesse de Lenon- 
 court — " 
 
 " My goodness! Cesar," said Constance, " do not 
 send a single invitation to persons whom you know 
 only from supplying goods to them. Are you going 
 to invite the Princesse de Blamont-Chauvry, still 
 more closely related to your late god-mother, the 
 Marquise d'Uxelles, than the Due de Lenoncourt? 
 Would you invite the two Messieurs de Vandenesse, 
 Monsieur de Marsay, Monsieur de Ronquerolles, 
 Monsieur d'Aiglemont, in fine, your customers? 
 You are a fool, greatness is turning your head — " 
 
 "Yes! but Monsieur le Comte de Fontaine and 
 his family. Eh! He came under his name of Gmfid- 
 Jacqiies, with Le Gars, who was Monsieur le Marquis 
 de Montauran, and Monsieur de la Billardi^re, who 
 was called Le Nantais, to La Reine des Roses, before 
 the great affair of the thirteenth Vendemiaire. 
 That was a time for handshaking! ' My dear Birot- 
 teau, courage! Let yourself be killed like us for 
 the good cause!' We are old-time comrades in con- 
 spiracy." 
 
 " Put him down," said Constance. " If Monsieur 
 de la Billardiere and his son come, they must have 
 some one they can talk to." 
 
 " Write, Cesarine," said Birotteau, "primo: the 
 Prefect of the Seine. He may come or may not 
 come, but he is in command of the municipal body: 
 honor io whom honor is due ! — Monsieur de la Billar- 
 diere and his son, the mayor. Put the number of 
 those invited at the end. — My colleague. Monsieur
 
 208 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Granet, the deputy, and his wife. She is very plain, 
 but that is all the same, we cannot dispense with 
 her! — Monsieur Curel, the goldsmith, colonel of the 
 National Guard, his wife and two daughters. They 
 are what I call the authorities. Then come the big- 
 wigs! — Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse 
 de Fontaine, and their daughter, Mademoiselle Emilie 
 de Fontaine." 
 
 " An impertinent damsel, who takes me out of my 
 shop to speak to me at her carriage door, no matter 
 what kind of weather it be," said Madame Cesar. 
 " If she comes, it will be to make fun of us." 
 
 "Then she will perhaps come," said Cesar, who 
 wanted people by all means. " Continue, Cesarine. 
 — Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse de 
 Granville, my landlord, that most famous head- 
 piece of the royal court, Derville says. — Ah! See! 
 Monsieur de la Billardiere will have me received as 
 chevalier to-morrow by Monsieur le Comte de 
 Lacepede himself. It is right that I should slip an 
 invitation to the ball and to dinner to the Grand 
 Chancellor. — Monsieur Vauquelin. — Put him down 
 for ball and dinner, Cesarine. And, so as not to 
 forget them, all the Chiffrevilles and Protezes. — 
 Monsieur Popinot, judge in the tribunal of the Seine, 
 and Madame Popinot. — Monsieur Thirion, usher to 
 the king's office, and Madame Thirion, the Ragons' 
 friends, and their daughter, who is going, it is said, 
 to marry one of Monsieur Camusot's sons by his 
 first wife." 
 
 " Cesar, do not forget little Horace Bianchon,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 2O9 
 
 Monsieur Popinot's nephew and Anselme's cousin," 
 said Constance. 
 
 "Oh, certes! Cesarine has indeed put a four 
 after the Popinots. — Monsieur Rabourdin, one of the 
 heads of a bureau in Monsieur de la Billardiere's 
 department, and Madame Rabourdin. — Monsieur 
 Cochin, of the same department, his wife and son, 
 the silent partners of the Matifats, and Monsieur, 
 Madame and Mademoiselle Matifat, as long as we 
 are at them." 
 
 "The Matifats," said Cesarine, "have put in a word 
 for Monsieur and Madame Colleville, Monsieur and 
 Madame Thuillier, their friends, and the Saillards." 
 
 "We will see," said Cesar. "Our brokers, 
 Monsieur and Madame Jules Desmarets." 
 
 " She will be the belle of the ball, will she.?" said 
 Cesarine; " she pleases me; oh! more than any one 
 else." 
 
 " Derville and his wife." 
 
 " Put down, then, Monsieur and Madame Coque- 
 iin, my uncle Pillerault's successors," said Con- 
 stance. " They are counting so much on being pres- 
 ent that the poor little woman is having my dress- 
 maker make a superb ball-dress: a robe of tulle 
 embroidered with chicory flowers over white satin. 
 A little more and she would have had a dress en- 
 riched so as to go to the court, if we failed in that 
 we would have had them for bitter enemies." 
 
 "Put down, Cesarine — we should honor trade, 
 for we are in it ourselves — Monsieur and Madame 
 Roguin." 
 14
 
 2IO CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Mamma, Madame Roguin will put on her neck- 
 lace, all her diamonds and her Mechlin-trimmed 
 dress." 
 
 "Monsieur and Madame Lebas," said Cesar. 
 " Then the president of the Tribunal of Commerce, 
 his wife and two daughters. I overlooked them in 
 enumerating the authorities. Monsieur and Madame 
 Lourdois and their daughter. Monsieur Claparon, 
 the banker, Monsieur Du Tillet, Monsieur Grindot, 
 Monsieur Molineux, Pillerault and his landlord. Mon- 
 sieur and Madame Camusot, the rich silk dealers, 
 with all their children, him of the Polytechnic 
 School and the lawyer: he is going to be appointed 
 to a judgeship, on account of his marriage with 
 Mademoiselle Thirion." 
 
 " But in the provinces," said Cesarine. 
 
 "Monsieur Cardot, Camusot's father-in-law, and 
 all the young Cardots. Hold! and the Guillaumes, 
 of the Rue du Colombier, Lebas's father-in-law, two 
 old people who will fill up: Alexandre Crottat, Ce- 
 lestin— " 
 
 " Papa, don't forget Monsieur Andoche Finot and 
 Monsieur Gaudissart, two young men who are very 
 useful to Monsieur Anselme." 
 
 "Gaudissart? He has been hauled up in court. 
 But it is all the same: he is going away in a few 
 days and will travel for our oil — put him down! As 
 for Sieur Andoche Finot, what is he to us?" 
 
 " Monsieur Anselme says he will become a some- 
 body, he has ability like Voltaire." 
 
 " An author? All atheists."
 
 IN HIS GLORY 211 
 
 " Put him down, papa; so far there are not so 
 many dancers. Moreover, that fine prospectus for 
 your oil is his worl<," 
 
 " He believes in our oil,'' said Cesar; "put him 
 down, darling." 
 
 " I am putting down my proteges, also," said 
 Cesarine. 
 
 " Put down Monsieur Mitral, my constable; Mon- 
 sieur Haudry, our doctor, for form's sake, as he will 
 not come." 
 
 "He will come just to do his part," said Cesa- 
 rine. 
 
 "Ah, there! I hope, Cesar, that you will invite 
 Monsieur I'Abbe Loraux to dinner?" 
 
 " I have already written to him," said Cesar. 
 
 "Oh! don't let us forget Lebas's sister-in-law, 
 Madame Augustine de Sommervieux," said Cesa- 
 rine. " Poor little woman! she is a great sufferer; 
 she is killing herself with grief, Lebas has told us." 
 
 " That's what it is to marry an artist," exclaimed 
 the perfumer. " Just look at your mother going to 
 sleep," he said in an undertone to his daughter. 
 "Ha! ha! good evening, then, Madame Cesar. 
 Well," said Cesar to Cesarine, " and your mother's 
 dress .'*" 
 
 "Yes, papa, everything will be ready. Mamma 
 thinks she has only one dress, the China crape one, 
 like mine; the dressmaker is sure she will not have 
 to try it on." 
 
 "How many persons?" Cesar asked in a loud 
 voice as he saw his wife reopen her eyes.
 
 212 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "One hundred and nine, including the clerks," 
 said Cesarine. 
 
 "Where shall we put all those people?" remarked 
 Madame Birotteau. "But at last, after that Sun- 
 day," she continued artlessly, "there will be a 
 Monday." 
 
 Nothing can be done in a simple way by people 
 who go up from one social stage to another. Neither 
 Madame Birotteau, nor Cesar, nor anyone could 
 under any pretext intrude on the second floor. 
 Cesar had promised Raguet, his shop-boy, a new 
 suit of clothes for the day of the ball, if he kept 
 faithful guard and carried out his task well. Birot- 
 teau, like the Emperor Napoleon at Compiegne at the 
 time of the restoration of the castle for his marriage 
 to Marie Louise of Austria, wanted to see nothing 
 half done; he wished to enjoy the surprise. These 
 two former adversaries met once more, without their 
 knowing it, not on a field of battle, but on that of 
 middle-class vanity. Monsieur Grindot was, then, 
 to take Cesar by the hand and show him the tene- 
 ment, as a guide shows a gallery to a sight-seer. 
 Each person in the house had, moreover, invented 
 his or her surprise. Cesarine, the dear child, used 
 all of her small treasure, a hundred louis, to buy 
 books for her father. Monsieur Grindot had, one 
 morning, confided to her that there would be two 
 book-cases in her father's room, which formed an 
 office — an architect's surprise. Cesarine threw all 
 her savings as a young girl on a bookseller's counter, 
 to get for her father: Bossuet, Racine, Voltaire,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 213 
 
 Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Montesquieu, Moli^re, Buf- 
 fon, Fenelon, Delille, Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, La 
 Fontaine, Corneille, Pascal, La Harpe, in fine, those 
 common books that are to be found everywhere and 
 which her father would never read. There was to 
 be an enormous bill for binding. The sloppy and 
 yet famous book-binder, Thouvenin, an artist, prom- 
 ised to deliver the volumes on the eighteenth, at 
 noon. Cesarine confided her embarrassment to her 
 uncle Pillerault, and the uncle undertook to foot the 
 bill. Cesar's surprise to his wife was a cherry- 
 colored velvet dress trimmed with lace, of which he 
 had just spoken to his daughter, his accomplice. 
 Madame Birotteau's surprise to the new chevalier 
 consisted of a pair of gold buckles and a solitaire 
 pin. in fine, there was for the whole family the 
 surprise of the tenement, which was to be followed 
 in a fortnight by the great surprise of the bills to be 
 paid. 
 
 Cesar weighed carefully which invitations were to 
 be given in person and which should be taken by 
 Raguet in the evening. He hired a hack, into which 
 he placed his wife disfigured with a feather-trimmed 
 hat and the last shawl he had given her, the 
 cashmere that she had desired for fifteen years. 
 The perfumers in full dress disposed of twenty-two 
 visits in a forenoon. 
 
 Cesar spared his wife all the trouble caused by the 
 middle-class cooking at home of the different comes- 
 tibles that the splendor of the feast required. A 
 diplomatic treaty was concluded between the famous
 
 214 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Chevet and Birotteau. Chevet supplied superb 
 plate, to rent which cost as much as an estate; he 
 furnished dinner, wines, servants commanded by a 
 head-waiter of agreeable mien, all responsible for 
 their doings and actions. Chevet required the 
 kitchen and the dining-room of the entresol to set up 
 his general quarters in; he was not the man to slight 
 serving a dinner for twenty persons at six o'clock, 
 and at one in the morning a magnificent collation. 
 Birotteau had an understanding with the Cafe Foy 
 for iced fruit, served in pretty cups, with silver-gilt 
 spoons and silver trays. Tanrade, another famous 
 personage, furnished the refreshments. 
 
 " Make your mind easy," said Cesar to his wife, 
 on seeing her a little too restless the second evening 
 before; "Chevet, Tanrade and the Cafe Foy will 
 occupy the entresol, Virginie will look to the third, 
 the shop will be securely closed, we will have only 
 to strut on the second." 
 
 On the sixteenth, at two o'clock. Monsieur de la 
 Billardiere came for Cesar to bring him to the 
 Chancellor's office of the Legion of Honor, where he 
 was to be initiated as a chevalier by the Comte de 
 Lacep^de, along with a half score other chevaliers. 
 The mayor found the perfumer with tears in his 
 eyes: Constance had just given him the surprise of 
 the gold buckles and the solitaire. 
 
 *' It is too sweet to be so loved," he said as he got 
 into the hack in the presence of his assembled 
 clerks, Cesarine and Constance. 
 
 They all looked at Cesar in black silk breeches,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 215 
 
 silk stockings, and the new blue-bottle coat, on the 
 lapel of which was going to shine the ribbon that, 
 according to Molineux, was steeped in blood. 
 
 When Cesar returned at dinner-time he was pale 
 from joy; he looked at his Cross in all the mirrors; 
 for, in his first intoxication, he was not merely 
 satisfied with the Ribbon, he was glorious, without 
 any false modesty. 
 
 "Wife," he said, "the Grand Chancellor is a 
 charming man; at a mere suggestion from La 
 Billardiere he accepted my invitation; he is coming 
 along with Monsieur Vauquelin. Monsieur de 
 Lacep^de is a great man, yes, just as great as 
 Monsieur Vauquelin; he has written forty volumes! 
 But he is also an author who is a Peer of France. 
 Let us not forget to address him as * Your Lordship ' 
 or Count." 
 
 " Go on and eat," his wife said to him. " He is 
 worse than a child, is your father," said Constance 
 to Cesarine. 
 
 "How becoming that is in your buttonhole," 
 said Cesarine. " We will have your arms brought 
 to you, and we will go out together." 
 
 " My arms shall be brought to me whenever there 
 are sentries needed." 
 
 At that moment Grindot came down along with 
 Braschon. " After dinner, sir, madame and the 
 young lady may enjoy a look at the rooms. 
 Braschon's first apprentice is nailing the last of some 
 curtain-holders, and three of the men are lighting 
 the candles."
 
 2l6 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "A hundred and twenty candles are needed," 
 said Braschon. 
 
 " A bill of two hundred francs at Trudon's," said 
 Madame Cesar, whose complaints were stopped by 
 a look from Chevalier Birotteau, 
 
 "Your feast will be magnificent, chevalier," said 
 Braschon. 
 
 Birotteau said to himself: 
 
 " Flatterers already! The Abbe Loraux has been 
 so good as to put me on my guard against these 
 stumbling-blocks and hinted to me to remain modest. 
 I will remember my origin." 
 
 Cesar did not understand what the rich upholsterer 
 of the Rue Saint-Antoine meant. Braschon made 
 eleven useless attempts to be invited, he, his wife, 
 his daughter, his mother-in-law and his aunt. 
 Braschon became Birotteau's enemy. Once on the 
 door-step he no longer called him "chevalier." 
 
 The general rehearsal began. Cesar, his wife 
 and Cesarine left the shop and went to their living- 
 rooms by way of the street. The door of the house 
 had been remodeled in grand style, with two sections, 
 divided into equal and square panels, between 
 which was an architectural ornament of cast-iron 
 painted. This door, which has become so common 
 in Paris, was then quite a novelty. At the lower 
 end of the vestibule the stairway was to be seen, 
 divided into two straight flights, between which was 
 that support about which Birotteau had been so 
 anxious, and which formed a species of box in which 
 an old woman could be stationed. This vestibule,
 
 IN HIS GLORY 217 
 
 flagged with white and black marble, and painted 
 marble color, was lighted by an antique lamp with 
 four burners. In the architecture, richness was 
 blended with simplicity. A narrow red carpet 
 relieved the whiteness of the steps of the staircase, 
 polished with pumice-stone. A first landing led to 
 the entresol. The door to the living-quarters was 
 after the manner of the street door, but in wood- 
 work, 
 
 "How graceful!" said Cesarine. "And yet 
 there is nothing that strikes the eye." 
 
 " Precisely, Mademoiselle, that is due to the 
 exact proportions between stylobata, plinths, cor- 
 nices and ornaments; then I have gilded nothing, 
 the colors are subdued and present no striking 
 tints." 
 
 " It is a science," said Cesarine. 
 
 All then entered the ante-chamber, which was in 
 good taste, tesselated, spacious, and simply deco- 
 rated. Then came a salon with three windows on 
 the street, in white and red, with cornices in elegant 
 profile, with fine decorating, in which there was 
 nothing gaudy. On a white colonnaded marble 
 mantel was a trimming chosen with taste; it pre- 
 sented nothing ridiculous, and was in keeping with 
 the other details. There reigned, in fine, that 
 suave harmony which artists alone know how to 
 bring about by following a system of decorating 
 even in the most minute accessories, and of which 
 middle-class folk are ignorant, but which surprises 
 them. The light of twenty-four candles brought out
 
 2l8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 the splendor of the red silk draperies, the floor had 
 an alluring appearance that moved Cesarine to 
 dance. A green and white boudoir led into Cesar's 
 ofifice. 
 
 "1 have put a bed there," said Grindot as he 
 opened the doors of an alcove skilfully concealed 
 between two book-cases. " You or madame may 
 be sick, and then each has a separate room." 
 
 " But this library furnished with bound books — 
 Oh! wife! wife!" said Cesar. 
 
 " No, this is Cesarine's surprise." 
 
 "Pardon a father's emotion," said he to the 
 architect as he embraced his daughter. 
 
 " But do it, do it, then, sir," said Grindot, " you 
 are at home." 
 
 In this office prevailed brown colors, relieved by 
 green embellishment, for the most skilfully handled 
 transitions of harmony connected all the parts of the 
 tenement with one another. Thus the color that 
 formed the main feature of one room served as the 
 accessory to the other, and vice versa. The en- 
 graving of Hero and Leander was displayed on a 
 panel in Cesar's office. 
 
 "You, you will pay for all that," said Birotteau 
 gaily. 
 
 "This beautiful print has been given to you by 
 Monsieur Anselme," said Cesarine. 
 
 Anselme also had allowed himself a surprise. 
 
 "Poor boy, he did as I did for Monsieur Vauquelin." 
 
 Madame Birotteau's room came next. There the 
 architect had displayed magnificence of a nature to
 
 IN HIS GLORY 219 
 
 please the good people whom he wished to inveigle, 
 for he had kept his word while studying this restora- 
 tion. The room was hung with blue silk, with 
 white ornaments; the furniture was in white cash- 
 mere with blue accessories. On the mantel-piece, 
 of white marble, the clock represented Venus set 
 on a fine block of marble; a pretty moquette carpet, 
 of a Turkish pattern, connected this room with 
 Cesarine's, which was hung in chintz and very 
 coquettish: a piano, a pretty glass closet, a neat 
 little bed with simple curtains, and all the little 
 articles of furniture that young persons like. The 
 dining-room was behind Birotteau's room and that 
 of his wife; it was entered from the stairway; it had 
 been treated in the style called Louis XIV. with a 
 Boulle clock, buffets of copper and tortoise-shell, the 
 walls hung with stuff with gilt nails. The joy these 
 three persons felt cannot be described, especially 
 when, on returning to her room, Madame Birotteau 
 found on her bed the cherry velvet dress trimmed 
 with lace, given to her by her husband, and which 
 Virginie had brought thither and then went away on 
 tiptoe. 
 
 " These rooms are decidedly creditable to you, 
 sir," said Constance to Grindot. "We will have 
 over a hundred persons to-morrow evening, and you 
 will receive praise from every one of them." 
 
 " 1 will recommend you," said Cesar. " You will 
 see the cream of trade, and you will become better 
 known in a single evening than if you had built a 
 hundred houses."
 
 220 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Constance was so moved that she no longer 
 thought of expense or of criticising her husband. 
 This is why. In the morning, while bringing Hero 
 and Leander, Anseime Popinot, to whom Constance 
 credited a high degree of intelligence and fertile 
 resources, had assured her of the success of the 
 Cephalic Oil, on which he was working with unex- 
 ampled zeal. The lover had promised that, in spite 
 of the great cost of Birotteau's whims, in six months 
 the expenses would be covered by his share in the 
 profits derived from the oil. After having been in 
 trepidation for nineteen years, it was so sweet to 
 yield to even a single day's pleasure that Constance 
 promised her daughter not to mar her husband's 
 happiness by any reflection, and to let him enter 
 into it heart and soul. When, about eleven o'clock. 
 Monsieur Grindot left them, she accordingly threw 
 herself on her husband's neck and shed some tears 
 of satisfaction, saying: 
 
 "Oh! Cesar, you make me quite silly and very 
 happy." 
 
 " Provided it lasts, is it not?" said Cesar, smiling. 
 
 " it will last, I have no more fear," said Madame 
 Birotteau. 
 
 "it is time," said the perfumer, "but at last 
 you appreciate me." 
 
 People who are big enough to recognize their 
 weaknesses will acknowledge that a poor orphan who, 
 eighteen years before, was head saleswoman at the 
 Petit Matelot, on the He Saint-Louis, that a poor 
 peasant who had come from Touraine to Paris with
 
 IN HIS GLORY 221 
 
 a cudgel in his hand, on foot, in hobnailed shoes, 
 ought to be flattered, happy at giving such a feast 
 for such praiseworthy motives. 
 
 " My God, I would give at least a hundred francs," 
 said Cesar, " for one visit to be made to us." 
 
 " Here comes the Abbe Loraux," said Virginie. 
 
 The Abbe Loraux made his appearance. This 
 priest was then curate at Saint-Sulpice. Never was 
 soul power better revealed than in this holy priest, 
 intercourse with whom left profound impressions in 
 the memory of all who knew him. His sullen 
 countenance, so ugly as to repel confidence, had 
 been rendered sublime by the exercise of Catholic 
 virtues; there shone upon it in anticipation a celestial 
 splendor. A candor infused into his blood kept his 
 ungracious traits within bounds, and the fire of 
 charity purified his irregular lines by a phenomenon 
 the contrary of that which, in Claparon, had ani- 
 malized and degraded everything. In his wrinkles 
 played the graces of the three beautiful human 
 virtues, faith, hope and charity. He was mild, slow 
 and penetrating of speech. His costume was that 
 of the Parisian priests; he allowed himself to wear a 
 chestnut-brown overcoat. No ambition had stolen 
 its way into this pure heart, which the angels must 
 have borne to God in its primitive innocence. The 
 mild violence of the daughter of Louis XVL would be 
 needed to make the Abbe Loraux accept even the 
 poorest Paris parish. He looked with a restless eye 
 at all this magnificence, smiled at those three dealers 
 who were delighted, and shook his whitened head.
 
 222 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "My children," he said to them, "my part is not 
 to attend feasts, but to console the afflicted. I have 
 come to thank Monsieur Cesar, to congratulate you. 
 I wish to come here only to a single feast, to this 
 beautiful girl's wedding." 
 
 After a quarter of an hour the Abbe retired with- 
 out either the perfumer or his wife daring to show 
 him the rooms. This grave apparition threw some 
 cold water on Cesar's ebullition of joy. Each one 
 lay down amid his or her splendor, taking possession 
 of the fine and pretty little articles of furniture that 
 each had wished for. Cesarine disrobed her mother 
 before a dressing-table of white marble supporting a 
 mirror. Cesar had provided for himself some super- 
 fluities that he wanted to use immediately. All 
 went to sleep picturing to themselves in advance 
 the joys of the morrow. After having gone to Mass 
 and read the Vesper service, Cesarine and her 
 mother dressed at four o'clock, having previously 
 turned over the entresol to the profane uses of 
 Chevet's people. Never had toilet been more be- 
 coming to Madame Cesar than that cherry velvet 
 dress, trimmed with lace, with short jockey sleeves; 
 her fme arms, still fresh and young, her shining 
 white breast, her neck, her shoulders so prettily 
 shaped, were enhanced by this rich stuff and by 
 this magnificent color. The unaffected satisfac- 
 tion that every woman feels on seeing herself in 
 all her glory gave an indescribable suavity to the 
 Greek profile of the perfumer's wife, whose beauty 
 appeared in all its cameo fineness. Cesarine, dressed
 
 IN HIS GLORY 223 
 
 in white crape, had a crown of white roses on her 
 head, a rose at her side ; a scarf chastely covered 
 her shoulders and bust; she made Popinot crazy. 
 
 "Those people overwhelm us," said Madame 
 Roguin to her husband, as she crossed the rooms. 
 
 The notary's wife was furious at not being as 
 pretty as Madame Cesar, for every woman always 
 i<nows in her heart in what way to regard superi- 
 ority or inferiority in a rival. 
 
 "Bah! that will not last a great while; ere long 
 you will despise the poor woman when meeting her 
 on foot in the street, ruined!" said Roguin in an 
 undertone to his wife. 
 
 Vauquelin was perfectly gracious; he came along 
 with Monsieur de Lacepede, his colleague at the 
 histitute, who had gone to take him in his carriage. 
 On seeing the resplendent wife of the perfumer, 
 the two scholars fell into scientific compliments. 
 
 "You, madame, have a secret that science is 
 ignorant of, to remain so young and beautiful," said 
 the chemist. 
 
 "You are somewhat at home here, Professor," 
 said Birotteau. "Yes, Count," he continued, turn- 
 ing to the Grand Chancellor of the Legion of 
 Honor, "I owe my fortune to Monsieur Vauquelin. 
 I have the honor to present to Your Lordship the 
 president of the Tribunal of Commerce. This is the 
 Comte de Lacepede, Peer of France, one of the 
 great men of France; he has written forty volumes," 
 said he to Joseph Lebas, who accompanied the 
 president of the court.
 
 224 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 The guests were on time. The dinner was what 
 tradespeople's dinners are, extremely gay, full of 
 good nature, punctuated with coarse pleasantries 
 that always excite laughter. The excellence of the 
 courses, the good quality of the wine, were well 
 appreciated. When the company went back to the 
 salon to partake of coffee, it was half-past nine. 
 Some hacks had brought impatient lady dancers. 
 An hour later the salon was full, and the ball 
 assumed an air of festivity. Monsieur de Lacepede 
 and Monsieur Vauquelin took their leave, to Birot- 
 teau's great disappointment, for he followed them as 
 far as the stairway, entreating them to remain, but 
 to no purpose. He succeeded in keeping Judge 
 Popinot and Monsieur de la Billardiere. With the 
 exception of three women who represented the aris- 
 tocracy, finance and the administration: Mademoiselle 
 de Fontaine, Madame Jules, and Madame Rabourdin, 
 and whose decided beauty, get-up and manners 
 were conspicuous in the midst of that assembly, the 
 women presented to the eye dull, solid toilets, that 
 indescribable substantiality which gives to the mid- 
 dle-class masses a common appearance, which the 
 ease and grace of those three women brought into 
 painful prominence. 
 
 The middle-class of the Rue Saint-Denis made a 
 majestic display by showing themselves in all the 
 plenitude of their rights of buffoon stupidity. It was 
 indeed that middle-class that clothes its children as 
 lancers and National Guards, that buys Victories and 
 Conquests, The Laborer turned Soldier, admires The
 
 IN HIS GLORY 22$ 
 
 Poor Man's Funeral, enjoys itself on guard day, goes 
 on Sunday to a country house by itself, is anxious 
 to have the appearance of distinction, and dreams of 
 municipal honors; that middle-class jealous of every- 
 thing, and yet good, obliging, devoted, sensible, 
 compassionate, subscribing for General Foy's chil- 
 dren, for the Greeks whose piracies are unknown 
 to them, for the Champ-d'Asile at a time when it 
 is no longer in existence, duped by its virtues and 
 cuffed for its defects by a society that is not worthy 
 of it, for it is kind-hearted precisely because it is 
 ignorant of the proprieties; that virtuous middle-class 
 that rears daughters broken to work, full of qualities 
 that contact with the higher classes diminishes as 
 soon as it launches them into it, those girls without 
 intellect, from among whom the good-natured Chrys- 
 alus would have taken his wife; finally, a middle- 
 class admirably represented by the Matifats, the 
 druggists of the Rue des Lombards, whose house 
 had supplied La Reine des Roses for sixty years past. 
 Madame Matifat, who wanted to assume a dignified 
 air, danced with her head covered by a turban and 
 wearing a dull red-poppy dress with gold-leaves, 
 a toilet in harmony with a proud bearing, a Roman 
 nose and the splendors of a crimson complexion. 
 Monsieur Matifat, so superb at a National Guard 
 review, where, fifty yards away, one could see his 
 rotund paunch, on which hung his chain and packet 
 of gewgaws, was ruled by that Catherine II. of the 
 counting-room. Stout and short, harnessed with 
 barnacles, wearing his shirt collar as high as the 
 15
 
 226 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 base of his skull, he attracted attention by his tenor 
 voice and the richness of his vocabulary. Never 
 did he say Corneille, but "the sublime Corncille." 
 Racine was "the sweet Racine." Voltaire! oh! 
 Voltaire, "the second in all lines, more wit than 
 genius, but yet a man of genius!" Rousseau, "a 
 skittish mind, a man filled with pride and who ended 
 by hanging himself." He told in a dull way vulgar 
 anecdotes about Piron, who passes for a wonderful 
 man among the middle-classes. Matifat, enthusiastic 
 over actresses, had a slight tendency to obscenity; 
 it was even said that, in imitation of the good-natured 
 Cardot and the rich Camusot, he kept a mistress. 
 Sometimes Madame Matifat, on observing that he 
 was about to tell some anecdote, lost no time in 
 interrupting him with a head-splitting shout: "Fatty, 
 be careful about what you are going to tell us." She 
 called him familiarly her fatty. This bulky queen 
 of drugs made Mademoiselle de Fontaine lose her 
 aristocratic countenance; the proud girl could not 
 refrain from smiling on hearing her say to Matifat: 
 
 " Don't run against the glass, fatty; it is bad 
 form." 
 
 It is harder to explain the difference that dis- 
 tinguishes the upper from the middle class than it is 
 for the latter to overcome it. Those women, con- 
 strained in their toilets, knew they were in Sunday 
 clothes and unwittingly displayed a joy which proved 
 that the ball was a rarity in their busy life; but as 
 the three women who represented each a social 
 sphere were then as they were to be on the morrow.
 
 IN HIS GLORY 227 
 
 they had not the appearance of having dressed 
 expressly. They did not keep thinking of themselves 
 in the unaccustomed marvels of their get-up, were 
 not disturbed about its effect; everything had been 
 done when, in front of their glass, they had given 
 the last touch to the work of their ball toilet. Their 
 figures revealed nothing extraordinary, they danced 
 with grace and the ease that unknown geniuses 
 have given to certain ancient statues. The others, 
 on the contrary, marked with the seal of work, 
 kept to their vulgar pose and amused themselves 
 too much; their looks were inconsiderately curi- 
 ous, their voices did not observe that light murmur 
 which gives inimitable point to ball conversations; 
 especially they had not the serious impertinence 
 that contains the epigram in germ, nor that easy 
 attitude by which people are recognized who are 
 accustomed to keeping great control over them- 
 selves. And so Madame Rabourdin, Madame Jules 
 and Mademoiselle de Fontaine, who had anticipated 
 deriving great pleasure from this perfumer's ball, 
 were conspicuous over the whole middle class by 
 their soft graces, the exquisite taste of their toilets, 
 and their jest, just as three leading figures at the 
 Opera are distinguished from the dull hosts of the 
 supers. They were observed by a stupid, jealous 
 eye. Madame Roguin, Constance and Cesarine 
 formed, as it were, a bond that connected the figures 
 of trade with these three types of feminine aris- 
 tocracy. As at all balls, there came a moment of 
 animation when the torrents of light, the glee, the
 
 228 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 music and the warmth of the dancing caused a 
 giddiness that made those shades disappear in the 
 combined crescendo. The ball threatened to become 
 noisy. Mademoiselle de Fontaine wished to retire; 
 but as she sought the venerable Vendean's arm, 
 Birotteau, his wife and daughter ran to prevent the 
 desertion of all the aristocracy from their assemblage. 
 
 " These rooms display an air of good taste that 
 really astonishes me," said the impertinent girl to 
 the perfumer, "and I congratulate you on it." 
 
 Birotteau's head was so turned by the public 
 felicitations that he did not understand; but his wife 
 blushed and knew not what answer to make. 
 
 "This is a national feast that does you honor," 
 said Camusot to him. 
 
 " I have seldom seen so fine a ball," said Monsieur 
 de la Billardiere, to whom an officious lie cost 
 nothing. 
 
 Birotteau took all the compliments seriously. 
 
 "What a delightful sight! and such a good 
 orchestra! Will you give us balls often?" said 
 Madame Lebas to him. 
 
 "What charming rooms! Your own taste?" 
 Madame Desmarets said to him. 
 
 Birotteau risked a lie by leaving her to believe 
 that it was he who directed it. Cesarine, who would 
 be invited to all the country-dances, knew how 
 much delicacy there wa^ in Anselme. 
 
 " if I were to pay attention only to my own 
 wishes," he whispered in her ear as they were 
 leaving table, "I would beg of you to do me the
 
 IN HIS GLORY 229 
 
 favor of a country-dance; but my happiness would 
 be too dearly bought at the price of our mutual self- 
 respect." 
 
 Cesarine, who found that men walked awk- 
 wardly when they were erect on their limbs, wanted 
 to open the ball with Popinot. Popinot, encouraged 
 by his aunt, who had told him to make the attempt, 
 made bold to speak of his love to that charming girl 
 during the country-dance, but used the roundabout 
 way taken by timid lovers. 
 
 "My fortune depends on you. Mademoiselle." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "There is only one hope that can urge me to 
 make it." 
 
 "Hope, then." 
 
 " Do you know indeed all that you have said in a 
 single word?" Popinot replied. 
 
 "Hope for fortune," said Cesarine, with a mis- 
 chievous smile. 
 
 "Gaudissart! Gaudissart!" said Anselme, after 
 the country-dance, to his friend, as he pinched his 
 arm with Herculean strength, "succeed, or I will 
 blow out my brains. To succeed is to marry 
 Cesarine. She has told me so, and see how beautiful 
 she looks!" 
 
 "Yes, she is prettily decked," said Gaudissart, 
 " and rich. We are going to fry her in the oil." 
 
 The clear understanding between Mademoiselle 
 Lourdois and Alexandre Crottat, Roguin's appointed 
 successor, was remarked by Madame Birotteau, who 
 did not without a keen pang give up the idea of
 
 230 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 making her daughter the wife of a Paris notary. 
 Uncle Pillerault, who had exchanged a greeting 
 with little Molineux, went to settle himself in an 
 arm-chair near the library: he looked at the players, 
 listened to the conversation, and from time to time 
 went to the door to see the baskets of flowers that 
 were formed by the lady dancers whirling like a 
 hand-mill. His countenance was that of a real 
 philosopher. The men were frightful, with the 
 exception of Du Tillet, who already had fashionable 
 manners; of young la Billardiere, a budding youth of 
 fashion; of Monsieur Jules Desmarets and of the 
 official personages. But, amid all the more or less 
 comical figures to which this gathering owed its 
 character, there was one particularly effaced like a 
 Republican hundred sou piece, but whose dress 
 made it curious. One will guess it is the petty 
 tyrant of the Cour Batave, decked in fine linen that 
 had turned yellow in the wardrobe, showing to the 
 eye an inherited lace frill attached by a pin set with 
 a bluish cameo, wearing black short silk breeches 
 that betrayed the spindle-shanks on which they had 
 made bold to rest. Cesar triumphantly showed him 
 the four rooms formed by the architect in the 
 second story of his house. 
 
 "Eh! ah! that is your business, sir," said 
 Molineux to him. "My second so finished will be 
 worth over a thousand crowns." 
 
 Birotteau replied with a pleasantry, but he felt 
 hurt, as if stabbed with a pin by the tone in which 
 the little old man had uttered this expression. " I
 
 IN HIS GLORY 231 
 
 will soon regain possession of my second; this man is 
 ruining himself!" Such was the meaning of the 
 words will be worth uttered by Molineux with a 
 flourish. 
 
 The palish figure, the cut-throat eye of the land- 
 lord struck Du Tillet, whose attention had been at 
 first excited by a watch-chain that held up a pound 
 weight of various sounding trinkets, and by a coat of 
 green mixed with white, neck-wear fantastically 
 turned up, that gave to the old man the appearance 
 of a rattlesnake. The banker came then to ask this 
 little usurer by what chance he was chuckling. 
 
 "There, sir," said Molineux, as he planted one 
 foot in the boudoir, "I am on the Count de 
 Granville's property; but here," he said, showing 
 the other, " I am on mine; for I am the owner of 
 this house." 
 
 Molineux was so complacent to the listener that, 
 delighted with Du Tillet's air of attention, he struck 
 an attitude, told all about his habits, Sieur Gendrin's 
 insolence, and his agreement with the perfumer, 
 without which the ball would not have taken place. 
 
 "Ah! Monsieur Cesar has settled his rent with 
 you," said Du Tillet, " nothing is more out of 
 keeping with his habits." 
 
 "Oh! I asked it of him, I am so good to my 
 tenants!" 
 
 "If old man Birotteau fails," said Du Tillet to 
 himself, " this funny little man will certainly make 
 an excellent master in equity. His punctiliousness 
 is most valuable; he must, like Domitian, amuse
 
 232 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 himself with killing flies in the solitude of his 
 home." 
 
 Du Tillet went to play cards, where Claparon 
 already was by his orders; he had thought that, 
 behind the shade of a lamp-flame, his semblance of 
 a banker would escape all notice. Their manner 
 towards each other was so clearly that of two 
 strangers that the most suspicious man would not 
 have been able to detect anything that could reveal 
 their relations. Gaudissart, who was aware of 
 Claparon's fortune, dared not approach him when 
 he received from the rich former traveling agent the 
 solemnly cold look of an upstart who does not want 
 to be greeted by a comrade. This ball, like a 
 brilliant rocket, went out at five o'clock in the 
 morning. About that hour, of the hundred and 
 some odd hacks that had filled the Rue Saint- 
 Honore, there remained about forty. At that hour 
 they were dancing La Boulangere, which later on 
 made way for the cotillion and the English galop, 
 Du Tillet, Roguin, Cardot junior, the Comte de 
 Granville and Jules Desmarets were playing bouil- 
 lotte. Du Tillet won three thousand francs. Day- 
 light arrived, made the candles look dim, and the 
 players were taking part in the last country-dance. 
 In those middle-class houses this supreme enjoyment 
 is not carried out without some enormities. The 
 imposing personages have left; the giddiness of 
 movement, the communicative heat of the atmos- 
 phere, the spirits concealed in the most innocent 
 beverages have softened the callousness of the old
 
 IN HIS GLORY 233 
 
 women, who, from complaisance, take part in the 
 quadrilles and lend themselves to a momentary 
 folly; the men are heated, their disordered hair 
 hangs down over their faces and gives them a gro- 
 tesque expression that provokes mirth; the young 
 women become frivolous, some of the flowers have 
 fallen from their hair. The middle-class Momus 
 appears followed by his maskers! Laughter breaks 
 out, each one indulges in pleasantry, thinking that 
 on the morrow work will reassert its rights. Mati- 
 fat was dancing with a woman's bonnet on his head; 
 Celestin gave himself up to sallies. Some ladies 
 clapped their hands inordinately when the figure of 
 that interminable country-dance was made up. 
 
 "How they are enjoying themselves," said the 
 happy Birotteau. 
 
 "Provided they break nothing," said Constance 
 to her uncle. 
 
 "You have given the most magnificent ball that 
 1 have ever seen, and I have seen many," said Du 
 Tillet to his old employer, as he saluted him. 
 
 In the work of Beethoven's eight symphonies 
 there is a phantasie, grand as a poem, that dominates 
 the finale of the symphony in C minor. When, 
 after the slow preparations of the sublime magician 
 so well understood by Habeneck, a gesture of the 
 enthusiastic leader of the orchestra lifts the rich 
 curtain of this decoration, calling up with his baton 
 the sparkling motif, towards which all the powers 
 of music have converged, the poets whose hearts 
 palpitate then understand that Birotteau's ball
 
 2 34 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 produced in his life the effect impressed on their souls 
 by that fruitful motif, to which the symphony in C 
 perhaps owes its supremacy over its brilliant sisters. 
 A radiant fairy bounds forth raising its wand. One 
 hears the rustling of the purple silk curtains that 
 angels raise. Golden gates sculptured like those of 
 the baptistry of Florence turn on their diamond 
 hinges. The eye is ingulfed in splendid views, 
 it takes in a range of marvelous palaces whence 
 issue beings of a superior nature. The incense of 
 prosperity fumes, the altar of happiness is lit up, a 
 perfumed atmosphere is around! Beings with a 
 divine smile, clad in white tunics fringed with blue, 
 pass lightly before your eyes, showing you forms of 
 superhuman beauty, of infinite delicacy. The 
 Loves skip about, scattering the flames of their 
 torches! You feel yourself loved, you are happy 
 with a happiness which you breathe without under- 
 standing it while bathing in the waves of this har- 
 mony that ripples and pours out to each one the 
 ambrosia that each selects. You are struck to 
 the heart in your secret hopes that are realized for a 
 moment. After having led your footsteps through 
 heaven, the enchanter, by the profound and mys- 
 terious transition of the basses, plunges you once 
 more into the marsh of cold realities, to get yourself 
 out of them when he has made you thirsty for his 
 divine melodies, and when your soul exclaims: 
 " Encore!" The psychical history of the most brill- 
 iant point of this beautiful fmale is that of the 
 emotions lavished by this feast on Constance and
 
 IN HIS GLORY 235 
 
 Cesar. Collinet had composed on his flute the 
 finale of their trade symphony. 
 
 Weary, but happy, the three Birotteaus slept in 
 the morning in the excitements of that feast, which, 
 in building, repairs, furnishings, expenditures, toilets 
 and library reimbursed by Cesarine, reached, with- 
 out Cesar having suspected it, sixty thousand francs. 
 That was the cost of the fatal red ribbon put by the 
 king in a perfumer's buttonhole. If misfortune 
 befell Cesar Birotteau, this foolish expenditure suf- 
 ficed to make him indictable before the police court. 
 A merchant is in the state of simple bankruptcy if 
 he incurs expenses that are deemed excessive. It 
 is perhaps more horrible to go into the lowest court 
 on account of silly trifles or blunders than into an 
 assize court to answer for a great fraud. In the 
 estimation of some people, it is better to be a 
 criminal than a dolt.
 
 CESAR IN THE CLUTCHES OF 
 MISFORTUNE 
 
 (237)
 
 CESAR IN MISFORTUNE 
 
 « 
 
 A week after this feast, the last spark of the 
 straw fire of eighteen years' prosperity was about 
 to be extinguished, Cesar looked at the passers-by, 
 through his shop window, thinking of the extent of 
 his business, which he found weighing heavily on 
 him! Until then everything had been simple in his 
 life; he was manufacturing and selling, or buying to 
 sell again. To-day the matter of the land, his 
 interest in the house of A. POPINOT AND COMPANY, 
 the paying out of a hundred and sixty thousand 
 francs on the spot, and which was to necessitate 
 either the negotiating of notes, that would dis- 
 please his wife, or unexpected success in the Popinot 
 house, frightened this poor man by the multiplicity 
 of ideas; he felt he had more irons in the fire than 
 he could attend to. How was Anselme steering his 
 barque? 
 
 Birotteau treated Popinot as a professor of rhetoric 
 treats a pupil; he was distrustful of his ability, and 
 regretted not being at his side. The kick he had 
 given him to make him hold his tongue at Vauqueiin's 
 explains the distrust with which the young merchant 
 inspired the perfumer. Birotteau was very cautious 
 not to let his wife, his daughter or his clerk see into 
 
 (239)
 
 240 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 his affairs; but he was then, as it were, a mere boat- 
 man on the Seine to whom, perchance, a Minister 
 might have entrusted the command of a frigate. 
 These thoughts formed a sort of haze in his mind, 
 by no means fit for meditation, and he remained 
 standing, trying to see his way through it. At that 
 moment there appeared in the street a figure towards 
 which he felt a violent antipathy, and which was 
 that of his second landlord, little Molineux. Every- 
 body has had those dreams full of events that 
 represent a whole lifetime, and in which often 
 recurs a fantastic being entrusted with evil com- 
 missions, the villain of the play. Molineux seemed 
 to Birotteau to be charged by chance with an 
 analogous part in his life. This figure had grinned 
 diabolically when the feast was at its height, regard- 
 ing its sumptuousness with a hateful eye. On 
 seeing him again Cesar remembered so much the 
 more the impressions that had been made upon him 
 by this little forbidding fellow, that Molineux made 
 him feel a fresh aversion on showing himself 
 suddenly in the midst of his reveries. 
 
 " Sir," said the little man, in his atrociously 
 soothing voice, "we have closed up affairs so 
 smartly that you have forgotten to approve the 
 writing over our little signatures." 
 
 Birotteau took the lease to correct his oversight. 
 The architect entered, saluted the perfumer and 
 turned around him with a diplomatic air. 
 
 " Sir," he said, at last in his ear, " you know how 
 it is to get along in the beginning of a trade. You are
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 24I 
 
 satisfied with me, you will oblige me very much by 
 letting me have my honorarium." 
 
 Birotteau, who had already emptied his pocket- 
 book and got rid of all his loose change, told Celestin 
 to make out a note for two thousand francs at three 
 months, and to prepare a receipt. 
 
 " 1 was very glad that you assumed responsibility 
 for your neighbor's term," said Molineux in a 
 sullenly bantering tone. "My porter has come to 
 notify me this morning that the justice of the peace 
 has attached the seals in consequence of that man 
 Cayron's disappearance." 
 
 " Provided that I am not squeezed for five 
 thousand francs!" thought Birotteau. 
 
 "He had the reputation of attending to his busi- 
 ness very closely," said Lourdois, who had just 
 come in to leave his bill with the perfumer. 
 
 "A man in trade is proof against reverses only 
 after he has retired," said little Molineux as he 
 folded his document with minute regularity. 
 
 The architect examined this little old man with 
 the pleasure that every artist experiences on seeing 
 a caricature that confirms his opinion regarding the 
 middle-class. 
 
 "When one has an umbrella over his head, he 
 generally thinks that he is under shelter, if it rains," 
 said the architect. 
 
 Molineux gave much more attention to the archi- 
 tect's mustaches and imperial than to his figure as 
 he looked at him, and he despised him quite as much 
 as Monsieur Grindot despised Molineux. Then he 
 16
 
 242 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 remained to give him a tip as he went out. From 
 the habit of living with his cats Molineux had in his 
 manner as well as in his eye something of the feline 
 nature. 
 
 At that moment Ragon and Pillerault entered. 
 
 "We have spoken of our affair to the judge," 
 said Ragon in Cesar's ear: " he pretends that in a 
 speculation of this kind we should have a receipt 
 from the sellers and have the deeds perfected, so 
 that all would be really joint owners — " 
 
 "Ah! you are engaged in the Madeleine matter?" 
 said Lourdois. " It is spoken of, there will be 
 houses to build there!" 
 
 The painter, who had come in to have a prompt 
 settlement, now found it to his interest not to press 
 the perfumer. 
 
 " I will let you off with my bill because it is so 
 near the end of the year," he whispered in Cesar's 
 ear; "I don't need anything now." 
 
 " Well, what ails you, Cesar.?" asked Pillerault, 
 remarking his nephew's surprise, for the latter, 
 stunned by the amount of the bill, replied neither to 
 Ragon nor to Lourdois. 
 
 "Oh! a trifle; I took five thousand francs' worth 
 of notes from the umbrella-dealer, my neighbor, and 
 he has failed. If he had given me bad goods 1 would 
 have been gulled like a simpleton." 
 
 " It's a long time, too, since I told you so," Ragon 
 exclaimed; " he who is drowning would hang on to 
 his father's leg to save himself, and drown him too. 
 I have seen so much of these failures! one is not so
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 243 
 
 much of a cheat in the beginning of the disaster, but 
 one becomes so of necessity." 
 
 " That is true," said Pillerault. 
 
 "Ah! if ever I get to the Chamber of Deputies, 
 or if I have any influence in the Government — " 
 said Birotteau, raising himself on tiptoe and then 
 failing back on his heels. 
 
 " What will you do.?" asked Lourdois, "for you 
 are a sensible man." 
 
 Molineux, who was interested in every discussion 
 on law, remained in the shop; and, as attention on 
 the part of others makes one attentive, Pillerault 
 and Ragon, though acquainted with Cesar's views, 
 listened to him, however, as attentively as did the 
 three strangers. 
 
 " I would have," said the perfumer, "a tribunal 
 of irremovable judges with public functions judging 
 in criminal matters. After a hearing, during which 
 a judge would directly perform the present duties of 
 the agent, master and commissary judge, the mer- 
 chant would be declared either insolvent with the 
 privilege of resuming business, or bankrupt, insol- 
 vent and privileged to resume, he would be obliged 
 to pay all; he would then be agent for his property 
 and for his wife's, for his rights and inheritance 
 would all belong to his creditors; he would, however, 
 carry on business on their account and under sur- 
 veillance; in fine, he would continue the business, 
 but sign for others thus: So and so, insolvent, until 
 he had paid all. The bankrupt would be condemned 
 as of old to the pillory in the hall of the Bourse,
 
 244 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 exposed for two hours, with a green cap on his head. 
 His goods, those of his wife, and their rights would 
 be turned over to his creditors, and he would be 
 banished from the kingdom." 
 
 " Trade would be a little safer," said Lourdois, 
 " and one would look twice before entering into 
 operations." 
 
 " The present law is not carried out," said Cesar, 
 exasperated. "Out of every hundred merchants 
 there are over fifty who are more than seventy-five 
 per cent behind in their business, or who sell their 
 merchandise twenty-five per cent below the in- 
 ventory price, and who thus ruin trade." 
 
 "The gentleman is right," said Molineux, "the 
 present law gives too much latitude. Either absolute 
 surrender or infamy is necessary." 
 
 "The deuce!" said Cesar, "a merchant, in the 
 way things are, is going to become a patented thief. 
 With his signature he can draw upon everybody's 
 credit." 
 
 "You are not charitable. Monsieur Birotteau," 
 said Lourdois. 
 
 " He is right," said old Ragon. 
 
 "All those who fail are suspected," said Cesar, 
 exasperated by his small loss, which sounded in his 
 ears as the first cry of the whoop in those of a stag. 
 
 At that moment the steward brought Chevet's 
 bill. Then a messenger from Felix, an errand-boy 
 from the Cafe Foy, and Collinet's clarinet came 
 with the statements from their houses. 
 
 "Rabelais'quarter of an hour, "said Ragon smiling.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 245 
 
 "Faith, you gave a fine feast," said Lourdois. 
 
 " I am engaged," said Cesar to all the messengers, 
 who left the bills. 
 
 "Monsieur Grindot," said Lourdois, as he saw 
 the architect folding a note signed by Birotteau, 
 "you will verify and indorse my statement; there 
 is nothing to be done but to measure; all the prices 
 were agreed upon by you in Monsieur Birotteau's 
 name." 
 
 Pillerault looked at Lourdois and Grindot, 
 
 " Prices agreed upon between architect and con- 
 tractor," said the uncle in the nephew's ear; "you 
 are robbed." 
 
 Grindot left, Molineux followed him and ap- 
 proached him with a mysterious air. 
 
 " Sir," he said to him, " you have heard me, but 
 you did not understand me. I wish you an um- 
 brella." 
 
 Grindot was seized with dread. The more illegal 
 a profit is, the more the man holds on to it; the 
 human heart is so constituted. The artist had 
 indeed given his closest attention to the tenement, 
 he had devoted to it all his knowledge and his time, 
 and he was in it for ten thousand francs, and now 
 he found himself the victim of his own devoted- 
 ness; the contractors had little difficulty in leading 
 him on. The irresistible argument and the well- 
 understood threat of doing him an ill service by 
 calumniating him were still less potent than the 
 remark made by Lourdois regarding the matter of 
 the Madeleine land: Birotteau did not count on
 
 246 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 building a single house there, he was only specu- 
 lating in the price of land. Architects and con- 
 tractors are to one another as an author and the 
 actors, they depend on one another. Grindot, en- 
 trusted by Birotteau with stipulating the prices, was 
 for these tradesmen and against the middle-class 
 man. And so three large contractors, Lourdois, Chaf- 
 faroux, and Thorein, the carpenter, proclaimed him 
 one of those good young men with whom it is a pleasure 
 to work. Grindot felt that the bills on which he was 
 to get a commission would be paid, like his honora- 
 rium, in notes, and the little old man had just sug- 
 gested a doubt to him as to their payment. Grindot 
 was going to be pitiless, after the manner of artists, 
 the most cruel folk that the middle-class have to 
 deal with. Before the end of December Cesar had 
 sixty thousand francs' worth of bills. Felix, the 
 Cafe Foy, Tanrade and the small creditors that one 
 ought to pay cash down, had sent to the perfumer 
 three times. In trade these petty things do more 
 injury than a misfortune, they give warning of it. 
 Known losses are definite; but panic knows no 
 bounds. Birotteau saw his cash-box depleted. Fear 
 then seized upon the perfumer, to whom such a 
 thing had never happened during his life in trade. 
 Like all those who have never had to struggle for a 
 long time against hardship and who are weak, this 
 circumstance, common in the life of most small 
 dealers in Paris, brought trouble into Cesar's brain. 
 The perfumer gave orders to Celestin to send bills 
 to his customers; but before doing so, the chief clerk
 
 IN MISFORTUNE ' 247 
 
 had this unheard-of order repeated to him. The 
 clients, a noble term then applied by retailers to 
 their customers and which Cesar made use of in 
 spite of his wife, who had at last said to him: " Call 
 them as you will, provided they pay!" The clients 
 then were rich persons with whom there never had 
 been any losses to endure, who paid at their pleas- 
 ure, and who had often owed Cesar fifty or sixty 
 thousand francs. The second clerk took the charge- 
 book and began to copy the highest. Cesar was 
 afraid of his wife. So as not to let her see the 
 dejection into which he had been cast by the simoom 
 of misfortune, he wanted to go out. 
 
 "Good-day, sir," said Grindot, as he entered 
 with that easy air assumed by artists when they 
 would speak of interests to which they want to 
 appear to be absolute strangers. " I cannot find 
 any kind of money for your paper; I am obliged to 
 ask you to exchange it with me for cash. I am a 
 most unfortunate man in this kind of business, but 
 I have not spoken to the usurers; I would not hawk 
 your signature around, I know enough of trade to 
 understand that it would be to depreciate it; it is 
 then in your interest to — " 
 
 " Sir," said Birotteau, stunned, " in a lower tone, 
 if you please; you surprise me strangely." 
 
 Lourdois entered. 
 
 "Lourdois," said Birotteau, smilmg, "do you 
 understand?" 
 
 Birotteau stopped. The poor man was going to 
 beg Lourdois to take Grindot's note, joking with the
 
 248 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 architect with the good faith of a merchant sure of 
 himself; but he perceived a cloud on Lourdois's 
 brow, and trembled for his imprudence. This inno- 
 cent raillery was the death-blow to a suspected 
 credit. In such a case a rich merchant takes up his 
 note, and does not offer it. Birotteau felt his head 
 throb as if he had been looking into the depth of a 
 perpendicular abyss. 
 
 "My dear Monsieur Birotteau," said Lourdois, 
 taking him to the lower end of the shop, " my bill 
 is made out, adjusted and verified; I beg of you to 
 have the money ready for me to-morrow. My 
 daughter is going to marry little Crottat; he will 
 need money, notaries do not negotiate for nothing; 
 besides, no one has ever seen my signature." 
 
 "Send the day after to-morrow," proudly said 
 Birotteau, who counted on the payment of his bills. 
 "And you also, sir," said he to Grindot. 
 
 "And why not at once.!"" the architect asked. 
 
 " I have to pay my workmen in the Faubourg," 
 said Cesar, who had never lied. 
 
 He took his hat to go out with them; but the 
 mason, Thorein, and Chaffaroux stopped him just 
 as he was shutting the door. 
 
 " Sir," said Chaffaroux to him, " we are in great 
 need of money." 
 
 "Well! I own no Peruvian mines," said Cesar 
 impatiently, who went away briskly to about a 
 hundred yards from them. "There is something 
 behind all that. Cursed ball! Everybody thinks 
 you have millions. Nevertheless, Lourdois's manner
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 249 
 
 was not natural, he thinks there's a snake in the 
 grass." 
 
 He walked aimlessly along the Rue Saint-Honore, 
 feeling all broken up, and stumbled against Alex- 
 andre at a street corner, as a ram, or as a mathe- 
 matician absorbed in the solution of a problem would 
 have run up against another. 
 
 "Ah! sir," said the future notary, "a question! 
 Has Roguin given your four hundred thousand francs 
 to Monsieur Claparon?" 
 
 " The matter was attended to in your presence. 
 Monsieur Claparon has given me no receipt; my 
 notes were to — be negotiated — Roguin was to have 
 given him — my two hundred and forty thousand 
 francs in cash. — It was said that the deeds of sale 
 would be definitely made out. — Judge Popinot pre- 
 tends — The receipt! — But — why this question?" 
 
 " Why can 1 put such a question to you? To 
 know if your two hundred and forty thousand francs 
 are in Claparon's or in Roguin's hands. Roguin 
 was connected with you for such a long time, he 
 might out of delicacy have given the money to 
 Claparon, and how nicely you would escape him! 
 But am I a dunce! he has carried it off along with 
 Monsieur Claparon's money, he fortunately had 
 yet sent only a hundred thousand francs. Roguin 
 has fled; he received from me a hundred thousand 
 francs for his office, and I have no receipt for it; I gave 
 it to him as I would intrust you with my purse. Your 
 sellers have not received a farthing, they have just 
 left me. The money that you borrowed on your
 
 250 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 land existed neither for you nor for him who loaned 
 it to you; Roguin had got away with it, as he did 
 with your hundred thousand francs — which he — did 
 not have for a long time past. — Thus your last 
 hundred thousand francs have been taken, 1 remem- 
 ber having gone to get them from the bank." 
 
 Cesar's pupils dilated so much out of all measure 
 that he no longer saw anything but a red flame. 
 
 " Your hundred thousand francs at the bank, my 
 hundred thousand francs for his office, a hundred 
 thousand francs from Monsieur Claparon, there are 
 three hundred thousand francs to whistle for, with- 
 out the thefts that are going to be discovered," 
 continued the young notary. "They despair of 
 Madame Roguin; Monsieur Du Tillet spent the night 
 with her. Du Tillet escaped him nicely, did he! 
 Roguin tormented him for a month in order to drag 
 him into this business of the land, and fortunately 
 he had all his money in a speculation with the 
 Nucingen house. Roguin wrote a terrible letter to 
 his wife! I have just read it. He had been tam- 
 pering with his clients' money for five years past, 
 and why? for a mistress, the Dutch Beauty; he 
 gave her up a fortnight before he skipped. This 
 spendthrift was left without a farthing, her furniture 
 has been sold, she had signed bills of exchange. 
 In order to escape pursuit, she had taken refuge in 
 a house of the Palais Royal, where she was assassi- 
 nated yesterday evening by a captain. God soon 
 punished her, who undoubtedly ate up Roguin's 
 fortune. There are women to whom nothing is
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 251 
 
 sacred; to eat up a notary's means! Madame Roguin 
 will have no means but the interest on her mort- 
 gage, all the ruffian's property is mortgaged beyond 
 its value. The office has been sold for three hun- 
 dred thousand francs. I who thought I was making 
 a good bargain, and who began by paying a hundred 
 thousand francs additional for the practice, have no 
 receipt; there are items of expense that are going to 
 eat up both office and security; the creditors will 
 believe that I am his accomplice if I speak of my 
 hundred thousand francs, and when one is starting 
 out it is necessary to be careful of one's reputation. 
 You will get scarcely thirty per cent. And to have 
 to eat such soup at my age! A man of fifty-nine 
 to keep a woman! — the old rogue! Three weeks 
 ago he told me not to marry Cesarine, that you 
 would soon have no bread to eat, the monster!" 
 
 Alexandre might have spoken for a long time; 
 Birotteau was standing petrified. So many phrases, 
 so many blows of a club. He no longer heard but 
 a sound of funeral bells, just as he had begun by 
 seeing only the fire of his conflagration. Alexandre 
 Crottat, who thought the worthy perfumer was 
 strong and capable, was frightened at his paleness 
 and immobility. Roguin's successor did not know 
 that the notary had got away with more than 
 Cesar's fortune. The idea of suicide at once passed 
 through this deeply religious trader's head. Suicide 
 is in such case a means of flying from a thousand 
 deaths; it seems logical to accept only one of them. 
 Alexandre Crottat gave his arm to Cesar and wanted
 
 2 52 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 to make him walk, but it was impossible: his legs 
 failed under him as if he were drunk. 
 
 "What, then, is the matter with you?" said 
 Crottat. "My good Monsieur Cesar, have a little 
 courage! It is not a man's death! Besides, you 
 will recover forty thousand francs; your lender did 
 not have that sum, it has not been delivered to you, 
 there is reason for pleading the rescinding of the 
 contract." 
 
 " My ball, my Cross, two hundred thousand francs 
 in notes on the place, no cash on hand. — The Ragons, 
 Pillerault. — And my wife who saw clearly — !" 
 
 A shower of confused words that called up masses 
 of overwhelming ideas and of unheard-of sufferings 
 fell like a hail shower tearing into shreds all the 
 flowers of the garden of La Reine des Roses. 
 
 " I would that some one would cut off my head," 
 Birotteau said at last, " it pains me so much by its 
 size, it serves me to no purpose — " 
 
 "Poor old man Birotteau!" said Alexandre, "but 
 you are then in danger?" 
 
 "Danger!" 
 
 "Well, have courage, struggle." 
 
 "Struggle!" repeated the perfumer. 
 
 " Du Tillet was your clerk, he is a noble fellow, 
 he will assist you." 
 
 " Du Tillet?" 
 
 " Let us go, come." 
 
 " My God! I would not go back home as I am," 
 said Birotteau. " You who are my friend, if there 
 are friends, you in whom I have been interested
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 253 
 
 and who have dined at my house, in my wife's 
 name, take me in a hack, Xandrot; come with me." 
 
 The notary-designate with much difficulty placed 
 in a hack the inert machine that bore the name of 
 Cesar. 
 
 "Xandrot," said the perfumer in a voice troubled 
 with tears, for at that moment the tears fell from 
 his eyes and loosened somewhat the iron band that 
 encircled his skull, "let us go to my house. Speak 
 for me to Celestin. My friend, tell him there is 
 question of my life and of my wife's also. Under 
 no pretext let any one prattle about Roguin's dis- 
 appearance. Call Cesarine down and entreat her 
 to see that no one speaks of this affair to her mother. 
 One ought to be distrustful of one's best friends, 
 — Pillerault, the Ragons, everybody — " 
 
 The change in Birotteau's voice keenly struck 
 Crottat, who understood the importance of this 
 recommendation. The Rue Saint-Honore led to the 
 magistrate's; he carried out the perfumer's inten- 
 tions, and Celestin and Cesarine saw the victim 
 with affright, voiceless, pale, and as if stupefied, 
 on the floor of the hack. 
 
 "Keep my secret about this matter," said the 
 perfumer. 
 
 "Ah!" said Xandrot to himself, "he is reviving! 
 I was afraid he was done for." 
 
 The conference between Alexandre Crottat and 
 the magistrate lasted a long time. The president of 
 the board of notaries was sent for. Cesar was 
 carried everywhere like a parcel; he did not budge,
 
 254 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 and said not a word. About seven o'clock in the 
 evening Alexandre Crottat brought the perfumer 
 back to his house. The idea of appearing before 
 Constance restored tone to Cesar. The young 
 notary was so charitable as to precede him in order 
 to tell Madame Birotteau that her husband had had 
 a slight attack of apoplexy. 
 
 "He has his ideas mixed up," he said, making a 
 gesture used to represent the disturbing of the brain ; 
 "it will perhaps be necessary to bleed or leech 
 him." 
 
 "That was bound to come," said Constance, a 
 thousand leagues from suspecting a disaster. "He 
 has not taken his precautionary medicine at the 
 approach of winter, and for the last two months he 
 has been bringing on the galley-slave fever, as if 
 his bread were not safe." 
 
 Cesar was entreated by his. wife and daughter 
 to go to bed, and they sent for Doctor Haudry, 
 Birotteau's physician. Old Haudry was a physi- 
 cian of the Moliere school, a great practitioner and 
 a friend of the old formulas of the dispensary, drug- 
 ging his patients neither more nor less than a med- 
 icaster, consulting physician though he was. He 
 came, studied Cesar's fades, ordered the immediate 
 application of mustard plasters to the soles of his 
 feet: he saw symptoms of cerebral congestion. 
 
 "What could have caused him that?" Constance 
 asked. 
 
 "The humid weather," replied the doctor, to 
 whom Cesarine came to say a word.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 255 
 
 Doctors are often obliged to talk nonsense in a 
 knowing way in order to save the iionor or life of 
 persons in good standing who are around the patient. 
 The old doctor had seen so many things that he 
 understood a hint. Cesarine followed him to the 
 stairway and asked him what rules of conduct to 
 follow. 
 
 "Quiet and silence. Then we will risk strength- 
 ening remedies when the head is cleared." 
 
 Madame Cesar spent two days at her husband's 
 bedside, and he often seemed to her to be delirious. 
 Put in his wife's fine blue room, he said things that 
 Constance did not comprehend, at the sight of the 
 draperies, the furniture and the costly magnificence. 
 
 "He is wandering in his mind," she said to 
 Cesarine at a moment when Cesar got into a 
 sitting posture and in a solemn voice quoted bits 
 and scraps of the articles of the code of commerce. 
 
 "If the expenses are thought excessive — Take 
 away the draperies." After three terrible days, 
 during which Cesar's reason was in danger, the 
 strong nature of the Touraine peasant triumphed, 
 his head became clear. Doctor Haudry ordered, him 
 cordials and strong nourishment, and, after a cup of 
 coffee given at intervals, the merchant was on his 
 feet. Constance, fatigued, took her husband's place. 
 
 "Poor woman," said Cesar, when he saw her 
 asleep. 
 
 "Come, papa, courage! You are so superior a 
 man that you will triumph. It will not amount to 
 anything. Monsieur Anselme will assist you."
 
 256 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Cesarine spoke in a mild tone these vague words, 
 which tenderness made still milder, and which give 
 courage to the most abject, as a mother's song lulls 
 the pains of a child who is tormented with teething. 
 
 "Yes, my child, I am going to struggle; but not a 
 word to anyone in the world, neither to Popinot, 
 who loves us, nor to your uncle Pillerault. I am 
 going first to write to my brother: he is, I think, 
 canon and curate of a cathedral. He spends nothing ; 
 he ought to have money. With a thousand crowns 
 a year saved, for twenty years, he must have a 
 hundred thousand francs. In the provinces priests 
 have credit." 
 
 Cesarine, eager to bring her father a small table 
 and all that he needed to write, gave him what were 
 left of the invitations printed on rose paper for the 
 ball. 
 
 "Burn all that!" exclaimed the merchant. "The 
 devil alone must have inspired me to give that 
 ball. If I succumb, I will have the appearance of a 
 cheat. Come, no phrases. " 
 
 CESAR'S LETTER TO FRANCOIS BIROTTEAU. 
 
 "MY DEAR BROTHER, 
 
 " 1 find myself in so difficult a business crisis that I entreat 
 you to send me ail the money you can dispose of, even should 
 you have to borrow some. 
 
 " Entirely yours, 
 
 "Cesar. 
 " Your niece, Cesarine, who is looking at me writing this 
 letter while my poor wife is asleep, desires to be remembered 
 to you and sends you her tenderest greetings."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 257 
 
 This postscript was added atCesarine's entreaty, 
 and she brought the letter to Raguet 
 
 "Father," she said on going up again, "here is 
 Monsieur Lebas, who wishes to speak with you," 
 
 "Monsieur Lebas!" Cesar exclaimed, frightened 
 as if his disaster had made him a criminal; "a 
 judge!" 
 
 "My dear Monsieur Birotteau, I take too much 
 interest in you," said the big draper as he entered, 
 "we have known each other for too long a time, we 
 were both elected judges the first time together, not 
 to tell you that one Monsieur Bidault, called 
 Gigonnet, a usurer, has notes of yours passed to his 
 order, without recourse, by the Claparon house. 
 These two words are not only an insult, but even 
 the death-blow to your credit." 
 
 "Monsieur Claparon desires to speak with you," 
 said Celestin, showing himself; "shall I send him 
 up?" 
 
 "We are going to know the cause of this insult," 
 said Lebas. 
 
 "Sir," said the perfumer to Claparon on seeing 
 him enter, "this is Monsieur Lebas, judge in the 
 Tribunal of Commerce, and my friend — " 
 
 "Ah! the gentleman is Monsieur Lebas," said 
 Claparon, interrupting;"! am delighted to meet you. 
 Monsieur Lebas of the court — there are so many 
 Lebas, without counting les haiits et les bas." 
 
 "He has," continued Birotteau, interrupting the 
 babbler, "seen the notes that I gave to you, and 
 that, you said, would not get into circulation; 
 17
 
 258 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 he has seen them with these words: without re- 
 course.'' 
 
 "Well," said Claparon, "they will not indeed 
 circulate — they are in the hands of a man with 
 whom 1 am doing much business, old man Bidault 
 That is why 1 have marked them without recourse. 
 if the notes had had to circulate, you would 
 have drawn them to his order directly. The 
 judge will understand my position. What do these 
 notes represent? a real estate value; paid by 
 whom? by Birotteau. Why do you think that 
 1 secure Birotteau with my signature? We ought 
 to pay, each on our own part, our share of the said 
 price. Now, is it not enough to be bound for the 
 whole in regard to our sellers? With me the com- 
 mercial rule is inflexible: I no more give my guar- 
 antee uselessly than 1 give a receipt for a sum to be 
 received. 1 suppose everything. Who signs, pays. 
 I do not wish to be exposed to paying thrice." 
 
 "Thrice!" exclaimed Cesar. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Claparon. "Already have 
 I guaranteed Birotteau to our sellers; why should 
 I guarantee him again to the banker? The circum- 
 stances in which we are, are difficult. Roguin takes 
 a hundred thousand francs from me. Thus, already 
 my half of the land costs me five hundred thousand 
 instead of four hundred thousand francs. Roguin 
 takes two hundred and forty thousand francs from 
 Birotteau. What would you do in my place, Mon- 
 sieur Lebas? Stand in my boots. I have not the 
 honor of being known to you, any more than I
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 259 
 
 know Monsieur Birotteau. Pay close attention. 
 We are doing business together by halves. You 
 put up all the money on your part; as for me, 1 
 negotiate mine in notes; I offer them to you ; you 
 undertake, from excessive complaisance, to convert 
 them into cash. You learn that Claparon, a rich 
 banker, held in high esteem— 1 accept all the vir- 
 tues of the world — that the virtuous Claparon is 
 found in default for six millions that he has to reim- 
 burse: will you go, at that very moment, and put 
 your signature as a guarantee to mine? You would 
 be a fool ! Well, Monsieur Lebas, Birotteau is in 
 the fix in which I suppose Claparon. Do you not 
 see that I may then pay the purchasers as joint 
 guarantor, and be bound still farther to reimburse 
 Birotteau's part to the amount of his notes, if I 
 guaranteed them, and without having — " 
 
 "To whom?" asked the perfumer, interrupting. 
 
 "And without having his half of the land," said 
 Claparon, taking no notice of the interruption, "for 
 I would not have any privilege; it would be neces- 
 sary then again to buy it! Thus I should pay three 
 times." 
 
 "To reimburse to whom?" still asked Birotteau. 
 
 "Why to the third holder, if I indorsed and some 
 misfortune befell you." 
 
 "1 will not fail, sir," said Birotteau. 
 
 "Good," said Claparon. "You have been judge, 
 you have had experience in business, you know 
 that one ought to look out for everything, so do not 
 be astonished that I carry out the rules of my trade. "
 
 260 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Monsieur Claparon is right," said Joseph 
 Lebas, 
 
 "1 am right," continued Claparon, "right com- 
 mercially. But this affair is territorial. Now, what 
 ought I to receive, I? — Money, for it will be neces- 
 sary to give money to our sellers. Let us leave 
 aside the two hundred and forty thousand francs 
 that Monsieur Birotteau will put up, I am sure of 
 it," said Claparon, looking at Lebas. "1 have come 
 to ask you for the trifle of twenty-five thousand 
 francs," he said, looking at Birotteau. 
 
 "Twenty-five thousand francs !" exclaimed Cesar 
 as he felt ice instead of blood in his veins. "But, 
 sir, on what title.!*" 
 
 "Eh! my dear sir, we are obliged to certify the 
 sale before a notary. Now, as regards the price, 
 we may have an understanding among ourselves; 
 but with the treasury, your servant! The treasury 
 does not trifle by speaking idle words; it only 
 recognizes prompt cash transactions, and we have 
 to put up forty-four thousand francs of earnest this 
 week. I was far from expecting reproaches on 
 coming here, for, thinking that these twenty-five 
 thousand francs might pinch you, I was going to tell 
 you that, by the luckiest chance, I have saved 
 you — " 
 
 "What?" said Birotteau, in a tone of distress by 
 which no man is deceived. 
 
 "A misery! the twenty-five thousand francs of 
 odd notes that Roguin had given me to negotiate, 
 I have credited you with on the registry and a
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 261 
 
 statement of the expense of which I will send you; 
 there is the small charge for negotiating to be 
 deducted; you will owe me in addition six or seven 
 thousand francs." 
 
 "All that seems to me perfectly just," said Lebas. 
 "In the gentleman's place, and he seems to me to 
 understand business very clearly, I would act in the 
 same manner towards a stranger." 
 
 "Monsieur Birotteau will not die on that account, " 
 said Claparon ; "more than one blow is needed to kill 
 an old wolf; I have seen wolves with bullets in their 
 heads running like — and, zounds, like wolves." 
 
 "Who can foresee a dastardly act like Roguin's.-"" 
 said Lebas, as much frightened at Cesar's silence 
 as at such an enormous speculation entirely foreign 
 to the perfumery business. 
 
 "I came near giving a receipt for four hundred 
 thousand francs to the gentleman," said Claparon, 
 "and 1 have had my fingers burnt. I had remitted 
 a hundred thousand francs to Roguin the day be- 
 fore. Our mutual confidence saved me. Whether 
 the money was in his office or at my house until the 
 day of the final contracts, seemed to all of us a mat- 
 ter of indifference." 
 
 "It would have been better had each kept his 
 money in the bank until the time for payment 
 came," said Lebas. 
 
 "Roguin was the bank to me," said Cesar. "But 
 he is in the affair," he continued, looking at Clapa- 
 ron. 
 
 "Yes, for one quarter, on word, " replied Claparon.
 
 262 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "After the stupidity of letting him run away with 
 my money, I would be a downright fool to give 
 him any of it If he sends me my hundred thous- 
 and francs, and two hundred thousand more for his 
 part, then we will see! But he will take good care 
 not to send it to me for an affair that requires five 
 years of boiling before giving a first pottage. If he 
 has carried off, as is said, only three hundred 
 thousand francs, tie will clearly need fifteen thousand 
 francs income to live comfortably abroad." 
 
 "The bandit!" 
 
 "Well, Mon Dieu! a passion led Roguin to that," 
 said Claparon. "Who is the old man who can 
 answer that he has not allowed himself to be domi- 
 nated and carried away by his last fancy? Not one 
 of us, who are wise, knows how he will end. A 
 last love, eh! is the most violent. Look at the 
 Cardots, the Camusots, the Matifats — all have mis- 
 tresses! And if we are victimized, is it not our 
 own fault? How is it we were not distrustful of a 
 notary who entered into a speculation? Every 
 notary, every exchange agent, every broker so 
 interesting himself in an affair, is to be suspected. 
 Failure is for them fraudulent bankruptcy. They 
 would go into an assize court, then they prefer to go 
 into a foreign land. I will do no more of such 
 schooling. Well, we are so weak as not to have 
 condemned by contumacy people to whose house we 
 have gone to dinner, who have given us fine balls, 
 people of the world, in fine! No one complains, and 
 more's the pity."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 263 
 
 "Decidedly wrong," said Birotteau; "the law 
 regarding failure and insolvency ought to be 
 amended." 
 
 "If you need me," said Lebas to Birotteau, "1 
 am entirely at your service." 
 
 "The gentleman does not need anybody," said 
 the indefatigable babbler, the sluices of whose elo- 
 quence Du Tillet had opened after having filled 
 him with the needful water. — Claparon was but 
 repeating a lesson that had been most carefully 
 taught him by Du Tillet. — "His affair is clear: 
 Roguin's failure will give a dividend of fifty per cent, 
 according to what little Crottat has told me. Besides 
 this dividend. Monsieur Birotteau recovers forty 
 thousand francs that his lender did not have; then, 
 he can borrow on his properties. Now, we have to 
 pay two hundred thousand francs to our sellers only 
 in four months. From this time until then Mon- 
 sieur Birotteau will take up his notes, for the gen- 
 tleman must not count on Monsieur Roguin having 
 stolen to pay them. But, even should Monsieur 
 Birotteau be somewhat pinched — well, by putting 
 some more notes in circulation, he will get there." 
 
 The perfumer regained courage on hearing 
 Claparon analyze his affair and sum it up by tracing 
 for him, so to say, the plan for him to follow. And 
 so his countenance became firm and decided, and he 
 conceived a high idea of the resources of this former 
 traveler. Du Tillet had thought it proper to give 
 out that he was Roguin's victim through Claparon. 
 He had sent a hundred thousand francs to Claparon
 
 264 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 to give to Roguin, who had given the money back 
 to him. Claparon, restless as he was, played his 
 part up to nature ; he told anyone that wanted to 
 listen to him that Roguin cost him a hundred thous- 
 and francs. Du Tillet had not regarded Claparon 
 as quite strong enough ; he thought he still had too 
 much of the principles of honor and delicacy to 
 trust to him his plans in their full extent; and, 
 moreover, he knew him to be incapable of seeing 
 through him. 
 
 "If our first friend is not our first dupe, we would 
 not find a second," he said to Claparon on the day 
 when, receiving reproaches from his commercial 
 pander, he disposed of him as he would of an instru- 
 ment that was played out. 
 
 Monsieur Lebas and Claparon left together. 
 
 "I can get out of it," said Birotteau to himself. 
 "My debts in notes to be paid amount to two 
 hundred and thirty-five thousand francs, namely: 
 sixty thousand francs for my house, and seventy- 
 five thousand francs for the land. Now, to meet 
 these payments, I have the Roguin dividend, which 
 perhaps will be a hundred thousand francs, I can 
 have the loan on my land annulled, in all a hun- 
 dred and forty. There is a chance of making a 
 hundred thousand francs on the Cephalic Oil, and 
 of getting, with some accommodation notes or a loan 
 from a banker, time for me to make up the loss and 
 wait for the land to reach its highest value." 
 
 1H'.
 
 Once a man, when in misfortune, can build up 
 for himself a romance of hopes out of a succession 
 of reasonings more or less correct, with which he 
 stuffs his pillow so as to rest his head upon it, he 
 is often saved. Many people have taken for energy 
 the confidence that illusion gives. Perhaps hope is 
 half of courage, and so the Catholic religion has 
 made a virtue of it. Has not hope sustained many 
 weaklings, by giving them time to await life's 
 chances ? Having resolved to go to his wife's uncle's 
 house to explain his position before looking for 
 assistance elsewhere, Birotteau did not go down 
 the Rue Saint-Honore as far as the Rue des Bour- 
 donnais without experiencing secret pangs of an- 
 guish that agitated him so violently that he thought 
 his health was impaired. He was feverish in his 
 entrails. Indeed, people who feel through the dia- 
 phragm suffer there, just as people who perceive 
 through the head experience cerebral pains. In 
 great crises the physical being is attacked just 
 where the temperament has put the individual's 
 seat of life: the weak have the colic, Napoleon 
 sleeps. Before mounting to the assault of a con- 
 fidence by passing over all the barriers of pride, 
 people of honor must have felt more than once in 
 their heart the spur of necessity, that unrelenting 
 escort! And so Birotteau had allowed himself to be 
 
 (265j
 
 266 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 spurred on for two days before going to his uncle's; 
 he even came to a decision only for family reasons: 
 in any state of the case he should have explained 
 his situation to the hard-headed iron and copper- 
 ware dealer. Nevertheless, on arriving at the door, 
 he felt that inner weakness which every child has 
 experienced on entering a dentist's office; but this 
 weakness of heart affected his whole being instead 
 of causing only a passing pain. Birotteau ascended 
 slowly. He found the old man reading the Consti- 
 tutionnel in the chimney corner, before the little 
 round table on which was his frugal breakfast: a 
 small loaf, butter, Brie cheese and a cup of coffee. 
 
 "There is a really wise man," said Birotteau, 
 envying his uncle's life. 
 
 "Well," said Pillerault to him as he took off his 
 goggles, "I learned yesterday at the Cafe David of 
 the Roguin affair, the assassination of the Dutch 
 Beauty, his mistress! I hope that, warned by us 
 who wished to be real owners, you have gone to get 
 a receipt from Claparon." 
 
 "Alas! uncle, everything is there; you have put 
 your finger on the sore spot. No." 
 
 "Ah! simpleton, you are ruined," said Pillerault 
 as he let his paper fall and Birotteau picked it up, 
 though it was the Constitntion^tel. 
 
 Pillerault was so very much taken up with his 
 reflections that his medallion face and severe ex- 
 pression became bronzed like metal under the force 
 of a coiner's die: he remained transfixed, looked 
 through his window at the wall across the way
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 267 
 
 without seeing it, as he listened to Birotteau's long 
 discourse. Evidently he understood and was judg- 
 ing, he was weighing the pros and cons with the 
 inflexibility of a Minos who had crossed the Styx 
 of trade when he left the Quai des Morfondus for 
 his little fourth story. 
 
 "Well! uncle?" said Birotteau, who was waiting 
 for a reply after having concluded with an entreaty 
 to sell to the amount of sixty thousand francs' worth 
 of bonds. 
 
 "Well, my poor nephew, I cannot do it; you are 
 too deeply involved. The Ragons and 1 are going 
 to lose each our fifty thousand francs. Those good 
 people have, on my advice, sold their interest in 
 the Vortschin mines: I feel myself obliged, in case 
 of loss, not to make the capital good to them, but to 
 assist them, to assist my niece and Cesarine. 
 You will, perhaps, need bread for all; you will find 
 it at my house — " 
 
 "Bread, uncle?" 
 
 "Well, yes, bread. Look, then, at matters just 
 as they are : you will not get out of it ! Of five thous- 
 and six hundred francs income I will be able to take 
 four thousand francs to divide between you and the 
 Ragons. Your misfortune having come, 1 know Con- 
 stance: she will work like a slave, she will refuse 
 herself everything, and you also, Cesar!" 
 
 "Everything is not to be despaired of, uncle." 
 
 "I do not see as you do." 
 
 "I will prove the contrary to you." 
 
 "Nothing will give me greater pleasure."
 
 268 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Birotteau left Pillerault without making any 
 reply. He had come to seek consolation and cour- 
 age; he received a second blow, less violent indeed 
 than the first, but, instead of reaching his head, it 
 struck his heart: the heart was the whole life of 
 this poor man. He returned after having gone 
 down a few steps. 
 
 "Sir," he said coldly, "Constance knows noth- 
 ing ; keep my secret at least, and pray the Ragons 
 not to rob me of the peace of my home which I need 
 so much in struggling against misfortune." 
 
 Pillerault made a sign of assent. 
 
 "Courage, Cesar!" he added. "I see you are 
 displeased with me, but later on you will do me 
 justice when thinking of your wife and daughter." 
 
 Discouraged by his uncle's opinion, though he 
 credited him with a special insight into things, 
 Cesar fell from the topmost height of his hope into 
 the filthy marshes of uncertainty. When, in such 
 horrible commercial crises, a man has not a soul 
 strengthened as was Pillerault's, he becomes the 
 plaything of events: he follows others' ideas, his 
 own, as a traveler runs after a will-o'-the-wisp. He 
 lets himself be carried along by the whirlwind in- 
 stead of lying down without looking at it when it 
 passes or standing up to follow its course that he 
 may escape it. In the midst of his grief Birotteau 
 remembered the suit in regard to his loan. He 
 went to the Rue Vivienne, to Derville, his lawyer, 
 to begin proceedings as soon as possible, in case the 
 lawyer would see any chance of having the contract
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 269 
 
 annulled. The perfumer found Derville wrapped 
 in his white swan's-down dressing-gown, in his 
 chimney corner, calm and sedate, like all lawyers 
 who are used to the most terrible secrets. Birot- 
 teau for the first time remarked this necessary 
 indifference, which gives a shiver to the man who 
 is excited, hurt, stricken with the fever of endan- 
 gered interests, and painfully afflicted in his life, 
 in his honor, in his wife and his children, as Birot- 
 teau was when telling of his misfortune. 
 
 "If it is proved," Derville said to him after 
 having listened to him, "that the lender no longer 
 had at Roguin's the sum that Roguin would have 
 him loan to you, as there has been no delivery of 
 goods, there is chance for rescinding: the lender 
 will have his recourse on the security, as you for 
 your hundred thousand francs. I answer, then, for 
 the suit as much as one can answer for it, for no 
 lawsuit is won in advance." 
 
 The opinion of such an able lawyer gave back 
 a little courage to the perfumer, who entreated Der- 
 ville to get a verdict within a fortnight. The law- 
 yer answered that perhaps he would have, in three 
 months, a verdict that would annul the contract. 
 
 "In three months!" said the perfumer, who 
 thought he had found resources. 
 
 "But while getting an early place on the calendar, 
 we cannot get your adversary to come up to your 
 time: he will make use of the delays of procedure. 
 Counsel are not always there. Who knows but your 
 defendant may let the suit go by default.? One
 
 270 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 does not get along as fast as he would like, my dear 
 master!" said Derville, smiling. 
 
 "But in the Tribunal of Commerce?" said Birot- 
 teau. 
 
 "Oh!" said the lawyer, "the consular judges and 
 the committing judges are two kinds of judges. 
 You fellows do things slap-dash ! In the Palace we 
 have forms. Form is the protector of law. Would 
 you like a snap judgment that would make you lose 
 your forty thousand francs.? Well, your adversary, 
 who is going to see this sum put in jeopardy, will 
 defend himself. Delays are the barricades of the 
 law." 
 
 "You are right," said Birotteau, who bade good- 
 bye to Derville and left with death in his heart. 
 "They are all right. Money! money!" cried the 
 perfumer in the street, speaking to himself, as do 
 all the business people of this turbulent and seeth- 
 ing Paris, which a modern poet calls a vat. 
 
 On seeing him come in, one of his clerks, who was 
 going everywhere presenting the bills, told him that, 
 on account of New Year's Day being so near, every- 
 body tore the receipt off the bill, which they kept. 
 
 "There is no money, then, anywhere!" said the 
 perfumer aloud in the shop. 
 
 He bit his lips; his clerks had all raised their 
 heads towards him. 
 
 Five days passed thus, five days during which 
 Braschon, Lourdois, Thorein, Grindot, Chaffaroux, 
 in fact all the creditors not settled with, passed 
 through the chameleon-like phases that the creditor
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 27 1 
 
 experiences before changing from the peaceful state 
 in which confidence keeps him, to the bloody hues 
 of the commercial Bellona. At Paris the astringent 
 period of distrust is as quick in coming as the 
 expansive movement of confidence is slow in being 
 decided on: having once fallen into the restrictive 
 system of fears and precautions of trade, the cred- 
 itor has recourse to sinister meannesses that put him 
 below the debtor. From a sweetish politeness, 
 creditors pass to the red heat of impatience, to the 
 darksome, petty annoyances of importunity, to out- 
 bursts of disappointment, to the cold blue of a fore- 
 gone conclusion, and to the black insolence of a 
 prepared summons. Braschon, that rich upholsterer 
 of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, who had not been 
 invited to the ball, sounded the injured creditor's 
 charge in his own wounded vanity; he wanted to 
 be paid within twenty-four hours. He demanded 
 security; not a lien on the furniture, but a second 
 mortgage next to that for the forty thousand francs 
 on the Faubourg land. In spite of the violence of 
 their recriminations, these folk still left some inter- 
 vals of rest during which Birotteau had time to 
 breathe. Instead of overcoming these first attacks 
 on his exposed condition by a strong resolve, Cesar 
 used his skill to keep from his wife, the only per- 
 son who could advise him, the knowledge of them. 
 He kept guard on the threshold of his door, around his 
 shop. He had let Celestin into the secret of his 
 temporary embarrassment, and Celestin examined 
 his master with a look of curiosity as well as of
 
 2/2 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 astonishment: Cesar lessened himself in his esti- 
 mation, as in disaster are lessened men accustomed 
 to success and whose whole strength consists in the 
 acquired knowledge that routine gives to those of 
 medium understanding. Without having the ener- 
 getic capacity necessary for defence on so many 
 points threatened at one and the same time, Cesar, 
 however, had the courage to look his position in the 
 face. For the end of the month of December and 
 the fifteenth of January he needed, as well for his 
 house as for bills falling due, his rent and his cash 
 obligations, a sum of sixty thousand francs, thirty 
 thousand of it for December 31 : all his resources 
 gave him scarcely twenty thousand. He was, then, 
 ten thousand francs short. To him nothing seemed 
 to be in a desperate way, for even now he saw no 
 farther than the present moment, like adventurers 
 who live from hand to mouth. Before the report of 
 his difficulties became public he resolved, then, to 
 try what seemed to him a grand stroke, and he 
 applied to the famous Francois Keller, the banker, 
 orator and philanthropist, famous for his benefi- 
 cence and for his desire to be useful to the trade 
 of Paris, with the view of being always one of the 
 Paris Deputies in the Chamber. The banker was 
 a Liberal, Birotteau was a Royalist; but the per- 
 fumer judged him according to his heart, and found 
 in the difference of opinions an additional reason 
 for getting credit. In case securities would be 
 necessary, he did not doubt Popinot's devotedness, 
 and he counted on asking him for thirty thousand
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 273 
 
 francs' worth of notes, which would help him to 
 secure the success of his lawsuit, offered as se- 
 curity to the most pressing of his creditors. The 
 communicative perfumer, who on the pillow told 
 his dear Constance the slightest emotions of his 
 existence, who took courage therefrom, who there 
 sought the lights of contradiction, could not con- 
 verse on his situation either with his chief clerk, 
 or with his uncle, or with his wife. His ideas 
 weighed doubly on him. But this generous martyr 
 preferred to suffer rather than cast this fire-brand 
 into his wife's soul; he wanted to tell her of the 
 danger when it would be over. Perhaps he recoiled 
 from this horrible confidence. The fear that was 
 inspired in him by his wife gave him courage. He 
 went every morning to hear Low Mass at Saint- 
 Roch, and he took God into his confidence. 
 
 "If, on my return home from Saint-Roch, I do not 
 meet a soldier, my request will succeed. It will 
 be God's answer," he said to himself after having 
 prayed God to assist him. 
 
 And he was happy on not meeting a soldier. 
 Yet his heart was too oppressed ; he needed another 
 heart in which he could groan. Cesarine, in whom 
 he had already confided at the time of the fatal 
 news, was in possession of his whole secret. 
 Glances were exchanged stealthily between them, 
 glances full of suppressed despair and hope, of in- 
 vocations ejaculated with a mutual ardor, of sym- 
 pathetic questions and answers, of flashes from soul 
 to soul. Birotteau affected to be gay and jovial 
 18
 
 274 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 with his wife. Should Constance put a question 
 to him, bah! everything was going on all right. 
 Popinot, who was not costing Cesar a thought, was 
 succeeding! the oil was taking! the Claparon notes 
 would be paid! there was nothing to fear. This 
 sham light-heartedness was frightful. When his wife 
 was asleep in that sumptuous bed, Birotteau would 
 get up in a sitting posture, and would fall into con- 
 templating his misfortune. Cesarine would then 
 come in sometimes in her night-gown, with a shawl 
 over her white shoulders, and barefooted. 
 
 "Papa, 1 hear you; you are crying," she would 
 say, weeping herself. 
 
 Birotteau was in such a state of torpor after hav- 
 ing written the letter in which he asked for an 
 interview with the great Francois Keller that his 
 daughter brought him into Paris. Only then did 
 he see in the streets enormous red placards, and his 
 gaze was attracted by these words : 
 
 CEPHALIC OIL. 
 
 During the occidental catastrophes of LaReinedes 
 Roses the house of A. Popinot was rising radiant 
 in the oriental glare of success. Advised by 
 Gaudissart and by Finot, Anselme had boldly 
 launched his oil. Two thousand placards had been 
 put up within three days in the most conspicuous 
 places in Paris. No one could escape standing face 
 to face with the Cephalic Oil and reading a terse 
 phrase, invented by Finot, on the impossibility of 
 making hair grow and on the danger of dyeing it,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 275 
 
 accompanied with the quotation from the memoir 
 submitted by Vauquelin to the Academy of Science; 
 a genuine certificate of life for dead hair promised 
 to those who would use the Cephalic Oil. All the 
 hair-dressers of Paris, wig-makers and perfumers 
 had decorated their doors with gilt frames contain- 
 ing a fine print, on vellum paper, at the head of 
 which shone the engraving of Hero and Leander, 
 reduced, with this epigrammatic statement: The 
 ancient people of antiquity preserved their long hair by 
 the use of CEPHALIC OIL. 
 
 "He has invented the permanent frame, the eter- 
 nal advertisement!" said Birotteau to himself, as 
 he stood dumfounded looking at the front of La 
 Cloche d' Argent. 
 
 "You have not seen, then, at your own house," 
 said his daughter to him, "a frame that Monsieur 
 Anselme came himself specially to bring, at the 
 same time leaving with Celestin three hundred 
 bottles of oil?" 
 
 "No," he replied. 
 
 "Celestin has already sold fifty to transient, and 
 sixty to regular customers!" 
 
 "Ah!" said Cesar. 
 
 The perfumer, deafened by the thousand bells 
 that misery tinkles in its victims' ears, was living 
 in giddy excitement; the evening before, Popinot 
 had waited an hour for him, and had gone away 
 after having chatted with Constance and Cesarine, 
 who told him that Cesar was absorbed in his great 
 affair.
 
 276 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Ah! yes, the affair of the land." 
 
 Fortunately, Popinot, who for a month past had 
 not left the Rue des Cinq-Diamants, spent the 
 nights and worked on Sundays in the factory, had 
 seen neither the Ragons, nor Pillerault, nor his 
 uncle, the judge. He slept only two hours, the poor 
 youth ! He had only two clerks, and, at the rate 
 things were going, he would soon need four. In 
 trade, opportunity is everything. He who does 
 not bestride success and hold on to the mane will 
 fail to make his fortune. Popinot said to himself 
 that he would be well received when, after six 
 months, he would say to his aunt and his uncle: 
 "I am saved, my fortune is made!" well received 
 by Birotteau when he would bring him thirty or 
 forty thousand francs as his share, after six months. 
 He was ignorant, then, of Roguin's flight, Cesar's 
 disasters and difficulties; he could not say an indis- 
 creet word to Madame Birotteau. Popinot promised 
 Finot five hundred francs for every great newspaper, 
 and there were ten of them ! three hundred francs 
 for every second-rate newspaper, and there were 
 ten more! if mention were made in them, three 
 times a month, of the Cephalic Oil. Finot saw three 
 thousand francs for himself in these eight thousand 
 francs, his first stake to be put up in the great, the 
 immense green field of speculation ! He accordingly 
 pounced like a lion on his friends, on his acquaint- 
 ances; he then frequented the editors' offices; he 
 got close to all the editors' ears, in the morning; 
 in the evening, he stepped into the foyer of all the
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 277 
 
 theatres. "Think of my oil, dear friend. I am not 
 in it for nothing; an affair of comradeship, you 
 know! Gaudissart, a good Hver!" Such was tiie 
 first and the last phrase of all his discourses. He 
 went for the bottom of all the last columns in the 
 newspapers in which he had articles inserted by 
 leaving money with the editors. Full of tricks as a 
 dancer who wants to pass as an actor, alert as an 
 acrobat who makes sixty francs a month, he wrote 
 captious letters, he flattered all vanities, he did 
 dirty work for the editors-in-chief, so as to get 
 in his articles. Money, dinners, platitudes, every- 
 thing served his eager activity. With theatre 
 tickets he bribed the workmen, who, about midnight, 
 close up the columns of the newspapers by taking 
 some articles on minor topics, always at hand, the 
 newspaper's make-shifts. Finot was then to be 
 found in the composing-room, engaged as if he had 
 an article to revise. Everybody's friend, he made 
 the Cephalic Oil triumph over the Regnaiild Paste, 
 the Brazilian Afixture, and all the inventions that 
 were the first to lead the genius to understand the 
 influence of the newspaper and the piston effect 
 produced on the public by a reiterated article. At 
 that time of innocence many newspaper men were 
 like oxen, they were ignorant of their strength; 
 they concerned themselves with actresses, with 
 Florine, Tullia, Mariette, etc. They lorded it over 
 everything, and gathered up nothing. Andoche's 
 pretensions concerned neither the gaining of ap- 
 plause for an actress, nor the having a piece played.
 
 278 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 nor the reception to be given to his melodramas, nor 
 having articles paid for; on the contrary, he offered 
 money at opportune times, a breakfast on set pur- 
 pose; there was, then, not a single newspaper that 
 did not speak of the Cephalic Oil, of its agreement 
 with Vauquelin's analyses, that did not make fun 
 of those who believe that one can make hair grow, 
 that did not proclaim the danger of dyeing it. 
 
 These articles filled Gaudissart's soul with joy, 
 and he armed himself with newspapers to break 
 down prejudices and produced the effect in the pro- 
 vinces which since then speculators have called, 
 after him, the grand sally. At that time the news- 
 papers of Paris ruled the departments, as yet with- 
 out organs, the unfortunates ! The newspapers, 
 then, were seriously studied there, from the title to 
 the printer's name, a line in which might be con- 
 cealed the ironies of persecuted opinion. Gaudis- 
 sart, supported by the press, achieved brilliant 
 successes even in the very first cities in which he 
 gave loose rein to his tongue. All the provincial 
 shopkeepers wanted frames with prints of the 
 engraving of Hero and Leander. Finot aimed at 
 Macassar Oil that charming pleasantry that makes 
 the Funambules laugh so much, when Pierrot takes 
 an old hair broom, nothing of which is left but the 
 holes, puts Macassar Oil into them and thus makes 
 the broom become tufted like a forest. This iron- 
 ical scene excited universal laughter. Later on 
 Finot pleasantly related that, without that thousand 
 crowns he would have died of starvation and grief.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 279 
 
 To him a thousand crowns was a fortune. In that 
 campaign he was the first to see into the power of 
 advertising, of which he made such great and such 
 learned use. Three months later he was editor-in- 
 chief of a small newspaper, which he afterwards 
 succeeded in purchasing and which was the founda- 
 tion of his fortune. Just as the grand sally made 
 by the Illustrious Gaudissart, the Murat of travel- 
 ing agents, on the departments and the frontiers led 
 to the commercial triumph of the house of A. Popinot, 
 so it triumphed in opinion, thanks to the starvation 
 assault made on the newspapers and which produced 
 that active publicity obtained in the same way by 
 the Bm{ilian Mixture and by the Regnaiild Paste. 
 In its beginning this taking of public opinion by 
 assault begat three successes, three fortunes, and 
 was worth the invasion of the thousand ambitions 
 that have since come down in thick battalions into 
 the arena of the newspapers in which they have 
 created the paid advertisement, an immense revo- 
 lution ! At that moment the house of A. POPINOT 
 AND Company strutted on the walls and on all the 
 shop fronts. Incapable of measuring the bearing of 
 such publicity, Birotteau was satisfied with saying 
 toCesarine: "This little Popinot is marching in 
 my footsteps !" without understanding the difference 
 of the times, without appreciating the power of the 
 new means of carrying out a plan, the rapidity and 
 extent of which took in the commercial world much 
 more promptly than of old. Birotteau had not set 
 foot in his factory since his ball: he was ignorant
 
 280 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 of the movement and activity that Popinot dis- 
 played there. Anselme had engaged all Birotteau's 
 workmen, he slept there; he saw Cesarine seated 
 on all the cases, lying in all the shipments, printed 
 on all the bills; he said to himself: "She shall be 
 my wife !" when, with his coat off, his shirt sleeves 
 tucked up to his elbows, he courageously drove the 
 nails in a case, in the absence of his clerks on duty 
 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Next day, after having spent the whole night 
 
 studying what he ought to say and not say to one 
 of the great men of the higher banking world, Cesar 
 reached the Rue du Houssaye, and with horrible 
 palpitations approached the house of the Liberal 
 banker, who held those views so justly accused of 
 desiring the overthrow of the Bourbons. The per- 
 fumer, like all the smaller dealers of Paris, was 
 ignorant of the manners and men of the upper 
 banking circle. In Paris, between this circle and 
 trade there are secondary houses; an intermediary 
 useful to banking, it finds in it an additional guar- 
 antee. Constance and Birotteau, who had never 
 gone beyond their means, whose till was never 
 empty and who kept their notes in a pocket-book, 
 had never had recourse to these houses of the second 
 order ; they were, with so much the more reason, 
 unknown in the upper regions of banking. Perhaps 
 it is a fault not to establish a credit for oneself 
 even though it be useless: opinion is divided on 
 this point. However the case may be, Birotteau 
 regretted very much that he had not given out his
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 281 
 
 signature. But, known as mayor's deputy and as 
 a man of politics, he thought he had only to give 
 his name and enter ; he was ignorant of the quasi- 
 royal affluence distinguishing this banker's audi" 
 ence. Shown into the parlor in front of the private 
 office of this man who was famous for so many 
 reasons, Birotteau saw himself in the midst of a 
 numerous society made up of Deputies, writers, 
 newspaper men, bill-brokers, men high in trade, 
 business people, engineers, and especially intimate 
 friends who passed through the crowd and knocked 
 in a particular manner at the door of the office 
 which they were privileged to enter. 
 
 "What am I in the midst of this machinery.?" 
 said Birotteau to himself, quite bewildered by the 
 activity of that intellectual shop whence was doled 
 out the daily bread of the Opposition, where were 
 rehearsed the parts of the great tragi-comedy played 
 by the Left. 
 
 He heard discussed on his right the question of 
 the loan for the completion of the chief lines of 
 canals proposed by the directors of bridges and 
 roads, and it was a question of millions! On his 
 left, newspaper men who would prey on the bank- 
 er's vanity were conversing on yesterday's sitting 
 and on the master's improvisation. During a wait 
 of two hours Birotteau three times saw the political 
 banker escorting out three steps beyond his office 
 door some men of importance. Francois Keller 
 went as far as the ante-chamber with the last, Gen- 
 eral Foy.
 
 282 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "I am lost!" said Cesar to himself, and his heart 
 sank. 
 
 When the banker returned to his office the troop 
 of courtiers, friends and interested persons assailed 
 him, like dogs following a pretty bitch. Some 
 bold curs slipped in spite of him into the sanctum. 
 The conferences lasted five minutes, ten minutes, a 
 quarter of an hour. Some went away contrite, 
 others wore a look of satisfaction or put on airs of 
 importance. Time was passing, and Birotteau 
 looked anxiously at the clock. No one paid the 
 least attention to that hidden sorrow that groaned 
 in a gilt arm-chair in the chimney corner, close to 
 the door of that office where resided the universal 
 panacea, credit! Cesar thought painfully that he 
 had been for a moment king at his own house, as 
 that man was king every morning, and he measured 
 the depth of the abyss into which he had fallen. 
 Bitter thought! How many unshed tears during 
 that hour spent there! — How often did not Birotteau 
 entreat God to make that man favorable to him ! for 
 he found in him, under a thick covering of popular 
 good nature, an insolence, a choleric tyranny, a 
 brutal disposition to domineer that terrified his mild 
 soul. 
 
 At last, when there were only ten or twelve 
 persons left, Birotteau resolved, as soon as he heard 
 the outer door of the office creak, to get ready and 
 put himself on a level with the great orator by say- 
 ing to him : "1 am Birotteau !" The grenadier who 
 first rushed into the redoubt of Moskowa did not
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 283 
 
 display more courage than the perfumer summoned 
 up to carry out this manoeuvre. 
 
 "After all, I am his deputy," he said to himself 
 as he arose to announce his name. 
 
 Francois Keller's physiognomy became affable, he 
 evidently wanted to be amiable, he looked at the 
 perfumer's red ribbon, drew back, opened his office 
 door, showed him in, and remained for some time 
 chatting with two persons who bounded in from the 
 stairway with the violence of a water-spout. 
 
 "Decazes wishes to speak with you," said one 
 of the two. 
 
 "It is a question of killing the Marsan pavil- 
 ion! The king sees clearly, he is coming over to 
 us!" exclaimed the other. 
 
 "We will go together to the Chamber," said the 
 banker as he re-entered in the attitude of the frog 
 that wants to be an ox. 
 
 "How can he think of his business?" Birotteau 
 asked himself, quite upset. 
 
 The sun of superiority scintillated, dazzled the 
 perfumer, as light blinds insects that like a dull day 
 or the half darkness of a fine night. On an im- 
 mense table he perceived the budget, the thousand 
 prints of the Chamber, the open volumes of the 
 Moniieiir, consulted and marked so as to be ready 
 to fling at a minister's head his previous remarks 
 now forgotten and to make him sing recantations to 
 the applause of an unthinking rabble incapable of 
 understanding that events modify everything. On 
 another table, cartons in a disordered heap.
 
 284 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 memoranda, plans, the thousand applications en- 
 trusted to a man upon whose cash all the nascent in- 
 dustries try to draw. The royal luxury of this office 
 full of pictures, statues, works of art; the encumber- 
 ing of the mantel-piece, the jumbling together of 
 national or foreign interests piled up like packages, 
 everything struck Birotteau, made him feel small, 
 increased his fear and stagnated his blood. On 
 Frangois Keller's bureau lay files of notes, bills of 
 exchange, trade circulars. Keller sat down and set 
 to signing rapidly the letters that required no exam- 
 ination. 
 
 "To what, sir, do I owe the honor of your visit?" 
 he asked of him. 
 
 At these words, uttered for him alone by that 
 voice which spoke to Europe, while that greedy 
 hand was going over the paper, the poor perfumer 
 felt as if he had a hot iron in his bowels. He as- 
 sumed an agreeable mien which the banker had 
 seen assumed for ten years past by those who 
 wanted to encoil him in a matter important to them- 
 selves only, and which already gave him the whip 
 hand on them. Francois Keller cast, then, on Cesar 
 a look that pierced his head, a Napoleonic look. 
 The imitation of Napoleon's look was a ridiculous 
 levity then assumed by some upstarts who were not 
 even the counterfeit presentments of their Emperor. 
 This look fell on Birotteau, a man of the Right, solid 
 with the powers that be, an element of monarchical 
 election, like a custom-house officer's pencil that 
 marks an article of merchandise.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 285 
 
 **I do not want to take up your valuable time, 
 sir, I will be brief. 1 come in regard to a purely 
 commercial matter, to ask you if I can obtain a 
 credit with you. A former judge in the Tribunal of 
 Commerce and known at the Bank, you understand 
 that, if I had a full pocket-book, I would only have 
 to apply there, where you are governor. I have had 
 the honor of sitting on the bench with Baron Thibon, 
 chairman of the discount committee, and he cer- 
 tainly would not refuse me. But I have never used 
 my credit or my signature; my signature is virgin, 
 and you know how many difificulties in that case a 
 negotiation presents — " 
 
 Keller shook his head, and Birotteau took this 
 gesture as a sign of impatience. 
 
 "Here is the fact, sir," he continued. "1 have 
 entered into a land speculation, outside of my bus- 
 
 iness — " 
 
 Francois Keller, who went on signing and 
 reading, without seeming to listen to Cesar, 
 turned his head and gave him a sign of ap- 
 proval that encouraged him. Birotteau thought 
 his affair had a good chance, and he breathed more 
 easily. 
 
 "Go on, I am listening," Keller said to him good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 "I am purchaser to the extent of half the land 
 situated around the Madeleine." 
 
 "Yes, 1 have heard mention made at Nucingen's 
 of this immense transaction undertaken by the 
 Claparon house."
 
 286 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Well," continued the perfumer, "a credit of a 
 hundred thousand francs, guaranteed by my half 
 in this affair, or by my stock in trade, would suffice 
 to carry me over to the time when 1 will realize the 
 profit that ought soon to be derived from an idea 
 belonging purely to the perfumery business. If it 
 were necessary, 1 would secure you with notes of a 
 new house, that of Popinot, a young house which — '* 
 
 Keller seemed to take very little interest in the 
 house of Popinot, and Birotteau understood that he 
 had entered on a bad course; he stopped, and then, 
 alarmed at the silence, he continued: 
 
 "As regards the interests, we — " 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the banker, "the matter may 
 be arranged; have no doubt of my desire to be ser- 
 viceable to you. Busy as I am, I have the finances 
 of Europe on my shoulders, and the Chamber takes 
 up all my spare moments. You will not be surprised 
 to learn that 1 leave my clerks to attend to a multi- 
 tude of matters. Go and see, down below, my 
 brother Adolphe, explain to him the nature of your 
 securities. If he approve of the operation, you will 
 return with him to-morrow or the day after, at the 
 hour when I make a thorough examination of mat- 
 ters, at five o'clock in the morning. We will be 
 happy and proud of having obtained your confidence. 
 You are one of those consistent royalists to whom 
 one can be politically hostile, but whose esteem is 
 flattering — " 
 
 "Sir," said the perfumer, lifted up by this parlia- 
 mentary phrase, "I am as worthy of the honor that
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 287 
 
 you do me as of the distinguished and royal favor 
 — I deserved it by sitting in the consular court and 
 by fighting — " 
 
 "Yes," continued the banker, "your reputation 
 is a passport, Monsieur Birotteau. You would pro- 
 pose only feasible projects. You can count on our 
 assistance." 
 
 A woman, Madame Keller, one of the two daugh- 
 ters of the Comte de Gondreville, Peer of France, 
 opened a door that Birotteau had not seen. 
 
 "My friend, I hope to see you before you go to 
 the Chamber," she said. 
 
 "It is two o'clock," exclaimed the banker; "the 
 battle is on. Excuse me, sir, there is question of 
 overthrowing a Ministry. — See my brother." 
 
 He escorted the perfumer to the parlor door, and 
 said to one of his men : 
 
 "Show the gentleman to Monsieur Adolphe's 
 office." 
 
 Across the labyrinth of stairways through which 
 he was guided by a man in livery to a less sumptuous 
 office than that of the head of the house, but more 
 useful, the perfumer, astride on an if, the most 
 pleasant mounting for hope, stroked his chin in 
 regarding as a good omen the famous man's 
 flattery. He regretted that an enemy of the Bour- 
 bons should be so gracious, so capable, so great an 
 orator. 
 
 Full of these illusions, he entered an office 
 that was bare, cold, furnished with two cylindri- 
 cal secretaries, common arm-chairs, adorned with
 
 288 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 well-worn curtains and a thin carpet. This office was 
 to the other what a kitchen is to the dining-room, 
 the factory to the shop. There bank and trade 
 affairs were ripped open, enterprises analyzed, and 
 bank discounts on all the profits of industries judged 
 to be profitable laid bare. There were concocted 
 those bold strokes by which the Kellers distin- 
 guished themselves in the upper sphere of trade, 
 and by which for some days they made for them- 
 selves a rapidly-exploited monopoly. There were 
 studied the defects of legislation and were unblush- 
 ingly stipulated what the Bourse calls the lion's 
 share, commissions exacted for the smallest ser- 
 vices, like bolstering up an enterprise with their 
 name and giving it credit. There were concocted 
 those flowery deceptions of legality that consist in 
 holding out mere promises to doubtful schemes, in 
 order to delay their success and to kill them so as 
 to get possession of them by demanding repayment 
 of the capital at a critical moment: a horrible man- 
 oeuvre by which so many share-holders have been 
 ensnared. 
 
 The two brothers had divided their parts among 
 them. Above, Francois, a brilliant man and a poli- 
 tician, conducted himself as a king, distributed 
 favors and promises, made himself agreeable to all. 
 With him everything was easy; he entered nobly 
 into business matters, he fuddled new adventurers 
 and speculators of recent date with the wine of his 
 favor and his captious speech, by developing their 
 own ideas for them. Below, Adolphe excused his
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 289 
 
 brother for his political preoccupations, and he 
 skilfully raked over every proposition; he was the 
 compromised brother, the hard man. It was neces- 
 sary, then, to have two forms of speech in order to 
 make a bargain with this perfidious house. Fre- 
 quently the gracious yes of the sumptuous office 
 became a dry no in Adolphe's. This suspensive 
 manoeuvre gave time for reflection, and often served 
 to amuse unwary customers. The banker's brother 
 was then conversing with the famous Palma, the 
 intimate adviser of the house of Keller, who retired 
 on the perfumer making his appearance. When 
 Birotteau had explained himself, Adolphe, the 
 shrewder of the two brothers, a true lynx, with 
 a sharp eye, thin lips, sickly complexion, cast at 
 Birotteau, over his glasses and lowering his head, a 
 look that ought to be called the banker's look, and 
 which is of the same order as that of vultures and 
 lawyers: it is greedy and indifferent, clear and 
 dark, bright and sombre. 
 
 "Be so good as to send me the papers bear- 
 ing on the Madeleine affair," said he; "therein 
 lies the security for the loan. We must ex- 
 amine them before opening negotiations with 
 you and discussing the matter of interest. If the 
 affair is good, we may, without overburdening 
 you, be satisfied with a share in the profits instead 
 of a discount." 
 
 "Come," said Birotteau to himself, as he re- 
 turned home, "1 see what it is all about. Like 
 the beaver when pursued, I must get rid of a part 
 19
 
 290 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 of my skin. It is better to let oneself be clipped 
 than to die." 
 
 That day he returned home quite gleeful, and his 
 gladness was genuine. 
 
 "I am saved," he said to Cesarine, "I will have a 
 credit with the Kellers."
 
 Not before December 29 was Birotteau able to find 
 himself again in Adolphe Keller's office. The first 
 time that the perfumer returned, Adolphe had gone 
 six leagues out of Paris to view a farm that the great 
 orator wanted to buy. The second time, both the 
 Kellers were engaged in business for the morning: 
 it was a question of offering a proposed loan to the 
 Chambers, and they begged Birotteau to return on 
 the following Friday. These delays were killing the 
 perfumer. But at last that Friday dawned. Birot- 
 teau found himself in the office, seated in the chim- 
 ney corner, in front of the window, and Adolphe 
 Keller at the other corner. 
 
 "All right, sir," said the banker to him when he 
 showed him the papers ; "but what have you paid on 
 the price of the land?" 
 
 "A hundred thousand francs." 
 
 "In money ?" 
 
 "In notes." 
 
 "Have they been taken up.?" 
 
 "They have to fall due yet." 
 
 "But if you have paid too much for the land, in 
 regard to its present value, where would be our 
 security.'' It would depend only on the good opin- 
 ion that you inspire and on the consideration that 
 you enjoy. Business does not rest on sentiment 
 If you had paid two hundred thousand francs, 
 
 (291)
 
 292 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 supposing that a hundred thousand too much were 
 given to get possession of the land, we would then 
 have a security of a hundred thousand francs to 
 answer for a hundred thousand francs discounted. 
 The result to us would be to be owners of your share 
 by paying in your stead. It is necessary, then, to 
 know whether the affair is good. To wait five 
 years to double one's money, it were better to 
 make it available in bank. There are so many 
 things that might happen! You want to float a 
 loan in order to pay notes falling due, a dangerous 
 experiment! One goes back in order to be able to 
 take a better jump. The affair does not go with 
 us." 
 
 This phrase struck Birotteau as if the executioner 
 had adjusted the fatal blade over his neck, and he 
 lost his head. 
 
 "Let us see," said Adolphe, "my brother takes 
 a deep interest in you, he has spoken of you to me. 
 Let us examine your affairs," he said, casting on 
 the perfumer the look of a courtesan pressed for the 
 payment of her rent. 
 
 Birotteau became Molineux, whom he had so 
 superciliously despised. Trifled with by the 
 banker, who was pleased to reel the bobbin of this 
 poor man's thoughts, and who knew how to interro- 
 gate a merchant as well as Judge Popinot did to 
 lecture a criminal, Cesar told the story of his 
 enterprises, he trotted out the Suliana Double 
 Paste, the Carminative Water, the Roguin affair, 
 his lawsuit on account of his mortgage loan, of which
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 293 
 
 he had received nothing. On seeing Keller's 
 smiling and reflective air, with his waggings of the 
 head, Birotteau said to himself: "He is listening 
 to me! 1 am interesting him! I will have my 
 credit!" Adolphe Keller laughed at Birotteau as 
 the perfumer had laughed at Molineux. Drawn on 
 by the loquacity peculiar to people who allow them- 
 selves to be fuddled by misfortune, Cesar showed 
 the real Birotteau: he gave his measure when he 
 proposed as security the Cephalic Oil and the Popi- 
 not house, his last card. The simpleton, allured by 
 a false hope, allowed himself to be sounded and ex- 
 amined by Adolphe Keller, who found in the per- 
 fumer a royalist numskull ready to go into insol- 
 vency. Delighted at seeing a deputy to the mayor 
 of their arrondissement fail, a man decorated so 
 short a time before, a man of the powers that be, 
 Adolphe then told Birotteau plainly that he could 
 not either open an account with him or say any- 
 thing in his favor to his brother Francois, the great 
 orator. If Francois allowed himself to go to the ex- 
 tent of imbecile generosity in order to secure peo- 
 ple of an. opinion contrary to his own and his 
 political enemies, he, Adolphe, would oppose with 
 all his might his playing the part of a dupe, and 
 would prevent him from reaching out his hand to 
 an old adversary of Napoleon, to one who had been 
 wounded at Saint-Roch. Birotteau, exasperated, 
 wanted to say something of the greed of higher 
 banking, of its hard-heartedness, of its false philan- 
 thropy; but he was seized with such a violent pain
 
 294 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 that he could scarcely stammer out a few phrases on 
 the institution of the Bank of France, on which the 
 Kellers drew. 
 
 "But," said Adolphe Keller, "the Bank will 
 never make a discount that a private banker re- 
 fuses." 
 
 "The Bank, " said Birotteau, "has always seemed 
 to me to be wanting in its purpose when it takes 
 credit to itself, in presenting the account of its 
 profits, for having lost only a hundred or two hun- 
 dred thousand francs with the trade of Paris, for it 
 is its guardian." 
 
 Adolphe could not help smiling as he rose with 
 the air of a man who was being bored. 
 
 "If the Bank mixed itself up with guarantees 
 for people embarrassed in the most knavish and most 
 slippery way in the world of finance, it would have 
 to close its doors within a year. Already it has 
 great difficulty in defending itself against notes in 
 circulation and false assets; what would be the case 
 if it had to investigate the standing of those who 
 wanted assistance from it?" 
 
 "Where am I to find the ten thousand francs that 
 I am short for to-morrow, Saturday, the thirtieth.?" 
 said Birotteau to himself, as he passed through the 
 courtyard. 
 
 According to custom payment is made on the 
 thirtieth when the thirty-first is a holiday. On 
 reaching the gate, his eyes bathed in tears, the 
 perfumer scarcely saw a fine English horse, sweat- 
 ing, that had stopped right in front of the door
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 295 
 
 with one of the prettiest cabs that at that time 
 rolled over the Paris pavements. He might well 
 have wished to have been crushed beneath that cab; 
 it would be death by accident, and the disorder in 
 which his affairs then were would have been set 
 down to the account of that event He did not 
 recognize Du Tillet, who, slender, and in elegant 
 morning dress, threw the reins to his servant and 
 a covering on the sweating back of his blooded 
 horse. 
 
 "And by what chance here.-"' said Du Tillet to 
 his former employer. 
 
 Du Tillet knew it well: the Kellers had asked 
 information of Claparon, who, referring them to Du 
 Tillet, had demolished the perfumer's reputation. 
 Though quickly checked, the poor merchant's tears 
 spoke eloquently. 
 
 "Have you come to ask some favor of those 
 Arabs," said Du Tillet, "of those cut-throats of 
 trade, who have been guilty of infamous tricks, such 
 as raising the price of indigo after having secured 
 a monopoly of it, lowering rice so as to force holders 
 to sell theirs at the lowest price in order to have all 
 and control the market, to those atrocious pirates 
 who have neither faith, nor law, nor soul ! You do 
 not know, then, what they are capable of? They 
 open a credit with you when your affairs are pros- 
 perous, and close it against you as soon as you are 
 involved in business difficulties, and they force you 
 to surrender it at a low price. Havre, Bordeaux 
 and Marseilles will tell you fine stories to their
 
 296 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 account. Politics serves them in covering up many 
 dirty jobs, you know ! And so I make a tool of them 
 without any scruple! Let us take a walk, my dear 
 Birotteau. Joseph, walk my horse about; he is too 
 warm, and he represents three thousand francs. 
 
 And he set out toward the boulevard. 
 
 "Let us see, my dear master, for you have been 
 my master, do you need money ? They have asked 
 you for security, the wretches! I, who know you, 
 offer you money on your mere notes. I have 
 honorably made my fortune against unheard-of 
 difficulties. That fortune, I went to seek it in 
 Germany! I can tell you of it to-day: I bought the 
 credits on the king at sixty per cent discount, then 
 your bond has been very useful to me, and 1, yes, 
 I, am most grateful for it! If you need ten thousand 
 francs, they are at your service." 
 
 "What! Du Tillet," Cesar exclaimed, "is that 
 true? are you not playing with me? Yes, I am 
 somewhat pinched, but it is only for the time 
 being — " 
 
 "I know it, the Roguin affair," Du Tillet replied. 
 "Well, 1 am in it for ten thousand francs that the 
 old scamp borrowed from me in order to get away; 
 but Madame Roguin will pay them back to me out 
 of her claims. I have advised that poor woman not 
 to be so stupid as to give her fortune to pay debts 
 contracted for a mistress; that would be all right if 
 she paid all, but why favor certain creditors to the 
 detriment of others ? You are not a Roguin ; I know 
 you," said Du Tillet, "you would blow out your
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 297 
 
 brains rather than have me lose a sou. Come, here 
 we are at the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin; come up 
 into my quarters." 
 
 The upstart took pleasure in making his former 
 master pass through the apartments instead of tak- 
 ing him into the ofifice, and he led him slowly in 
 order to let him see a beautiful and sumptuous din- 
 ing-room furnished with paintings purchased in 
 Germany, two salons displaying an elegance and 
 luxury that Birotteau had as yet admired only at 
 the Due de Lenoncourt's. The shop-keeper's eyes 
 were dazzled with gildings, works of art, silly 
 trifles, precious vases, by a thousand details that 
 threw entirely into the shade the luxury of Con- 
 stance's tenement; and, knowing the cost of his 
 folly, he said to himself: 
 
 "Whence, then, has he got so many millions?" 
 He entered a bed-room compared with which that 
 of his wife seemed to him to be what the fourth 
 story of a super is to the mansion of a star at the 
 Opera. The ceiling, all in violet satin, had raised 
 work of white satin folds. An ermine bed-spread 
 reached down to the violet colors of a Levant rug. 
 The furniture and the accessories showed new forms 
 and an extravagant taste. The perfumer stopped 
 in front of a charming clock representing Love and 
 Psyche, that had just been made for a famous banker ; 
 Du Tillet had secured the only duplicate of it that 
 could be had. At last the old employer and his for- 
 mer clerk reached an elegant fop's ofifice, a catchy 
 place, bespeaking love rather than finance. Madame
 
 298 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Roguin had no doubt offered, in acknowledgment of 
 the attention paid to her fortune, a cutter in en- 
 graved gold, malachite files adorned with chased 
 work, all the costly knicknacks of an unbridled 
 luxury. The carpet, one of the richest products of 
 Belgium, astonished the look as much as it sur- 
 prised the feet by the soft thickness of its rich pile. 
 Du Tillet made the poor, dazzled, confused per- 
 fumer sit down beside his fire-place. 
 
 "Will you have breakfast with me?" 
 
 He rang the bell. A valet came in who was bet- 
 ter dressed than Birotteau. 
 
 "Tell Monsieur Legras to come up, then go and 
 tell Joseph to come back here; you will find him at 
 the door of the Keller house ; you will go in and say 
 to Adolphe Keller that instead of going to see him I 
 will wait for him until it is time to go to the 
 Bourse. Do as 1 tell you, and quickly." 
 
 These phrases amazed the perfumer. 
 
 "He is going to bring that terrible Adolphe Keller 
 here; he whistles him up as he would a dog, does 
 this Du Tillet" 
 
 A page, as round as one's fist, came to set a table 
 that Birotteau had not observed, so small was it, 
 and placed on it a p^te de foies gras, a bottle of 
 Bordeaux wine, and all the choice things that made 
 their appearance at Birotteau's only twice in three 
 months, on great days. Du Tillet was pleased. 
 His hatred against the only man who should have 
 had the right to despise him developed so warmly 
 that Birotteau made him experience the deep
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 299 
 
 sensation caused by the sight of a sheep defending 
 itself against a tiger. A generous idea passed 
 through his heart: he asked himself whether his 
 revenge had not been accomplished, he fluctuated 
 between the counsels of awakened clemency and 
 those of obdurate hate. 
 
 "1 can annihilate this man commercially," he 
 thought "I have the right of life and death over 
 him, over his wife, who has put me on the rack, 
 over his daughter, whose hand at one time seemed 
 to me a whole fortune. I have his money. Let us 
 then be satisfied with letting this poor simpleton 
 swim the length of the rope which I hold in my 
 hand." 
 
 Honest people are wanting in tact; they have no 
 measure for well-doing, because to them everything 
 is free from wile or subterfuge. Birotteau consum- 
 mated his misfortune. He irritated the tiger, pierced 
 him to the heart without knowing it; he rendered 
 him implacable by one word, by a eulogy, by a vir- 
 tuous expression, by the very simplicity of probity. 
 When the cashier came, Du Tillet pointed out Cesar 
 to him. 
 
 "Monsieur Legras, bring me ten thousand francs 
 and a note for that amount made out to my order for 
 ninety days by the gentleman, who is Monsieur 
 Birotteau. You understand ?" 
 
 Du Tillet served some pate, poured out a glass of 
 Bordeaux wine for the perfumer, who, seeing that 
 he was saved, indulged in convulsive laughter ; he 
 dallied with his watch-chain, and put nothing in
 
 300 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 his mouth until his former clerk said to him: 
 "You are not eating?" Thus did Birotteau make 
 known the depth of the abyss into which Du 
 Tillet's hand had plunged him, from which it was 
 rescuing him, whither it could plunge him once 
 more. When the cashier returned, after having 
 signed the note, C^sar felt the ten bank bills in his 
 pocket, he could no longer contain himself. A 
 moment before, his section, the Bank, were going 
 to know that he was insolvent, and he must con- 
 fess to his wife that he was ruined; now all was 
 set right again! The happiness of his deliver- 
 ance was equal in intensity to the tortures of 
 defeat. The poor man's eyes became moist in 
 spite of him. 
 
 "What ails you, then, my dear master.?" asked 
 Du Tillet. "Would you not do for me to-morrow 
 what 1 am doing to-day for you.? Is it not as simple 
 as saying good-day.?" 
 
 "Da Tillet, " the good man said, emphatically and 
 gravely, as he rose and grasped his former clerk's 
 hand, "1 feel again for you all the esteem in my 
 power." 
 
 "What! had I lost it.?" asked Du Tillet, feeling 
 himself so severely hurt in the midst of his prosper- 
 ity that he blushed. 
 
 "Lost — not exactly," said the perfumer, dum- 
 founded by his blunder; "1 had been told things 
 about your relations with Madame Roguin. The 
 devil ! to take another man's wife — " 
 
 "You are breaking the bauble, old man," Du
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 301 
 
 Tillet bethought himself, using an expression be- 
 longing to his former trade. 
 
 While forming this phrase in his own mind, he 
 went back to his scheme of beating down that vir- 
 tuous man, of trampling him under foot, of making 
 contemptible in the streets of Paris the virtuous and 
 honorable man by whom he had been caught with 
 his hand in the drawer. Every hate, whether politi- 
 cal or private, of woman for woman, of man for 
 man, has no other foundation than such a surprise. 
 One does not hate oneself for interests compro- 
 mised, for a wound, nor even for a box on the 
 ear; reparation can be made for all that. But to 
 have been caught in the very act of villainy? — • 
 the duel that ensues between the criminal and the 
 witness to the crime ends only with the death 
 of one. 
 
 "Oh! Madame Roguin," said Du Tillet, in a ban- 
 tering tone; "but is it not, on the contrary, a 
 feather in a young man's cap.'' I understand you, 
 my dear master: some one may have told you that 
 she had loaned me money. Well, quite the con- 
 trary, 1 have restored her fortune, which had been 
 strangely compromised in her husband's affairs. 
 The origin of my fortune is pure. I have just told 
 you so. I had nothing, as you know! Young men 
 sometimes fmd themselves in frightful straits. One 
 may allow himself to fall into the depths of misery. 
 But if, like the Republic, one has made forced loans, 
 well, one pays them back, and one is then more 
 honest than France."
 
 302 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "That's so," said Birotteau. "My boy — God — 
 Is it not Voltaire wiio has said : 
 
 " ' He made of repentance the virtue of mortals?'" 
 
 "Provided," continued Du Tillet, again stabbed 
 by this quotation, "that one does not run away 
 with his neighbor's fortune, heartlessly, basely, as, 
 for example, if you were to go into insolvency 
 within three months and my ten thousand francs 
 went up in smoke — " 
 
 "I go into insolvency!" said Birotteau, who had 
 drunk three glasses of wine, and who was becoming 
 fuddled with delight. "People know my opinion of 
 insolvency ! Insolvency is death to a trader. 1 
 would die!" 
 
 "To your health," said Du Tillet. 
 
 "To your prosperity," returned the perfumer. 
 "Why don't you buy your goods at my place?" 
 
 "Faith," said Du Tillet, "I must acknowledge 
 that I am afraid of Madame Cesar. She always 
 makes an impression on me! and if you were not 
 my master, faith, I — " 
 
 "Ah! you are not the first to find her attractive, 
 and many have desired her; but she loves me! 
 Well, Du Tillet," continued Birotteau, "my friend, 
 do not do things by halves." 
 
 "How.?" 
 
 Birotteau explained the matter of the land to 
 Du Tillet, whose eyes became dilated, and he 
 complimented the perfumer on his penetration 
 and foresight, bespeaking wonders for that affair.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 303 
 
 "Well, I am very glad of your approbation; you 
 pass for one of the able men of the banking world, 
 Du Tillet! Dear boy, you can procure me a credit 
 at the Bank of France until I realize the profits on 
 the Cephalic Oil." 
 
 "1 can introduce you to the Nucingen house," 
 Du Tillet replied, promising himself that he would 
 make his victim dance all the figures of the country- 
 dance of insolvents. 
 
 Ferdinand sat down at his desk and wrote the 
 following letter: 
 
 TO THE BARON DE NUCINGEN, PARIS. 
 
 " MY DEAR Baron, 
 
 "The bearer of this letter is Monsieur Ce'sar Birotteau, 
 deputy to the mayor of the second arrondissement, and one 
 of the most renowned traders in the perfumery busmess in 
 Paris ; he desires to enter into relations with you : do confi- 
 dently whatever he may ask of you ; by obliging him you 
 oblige 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 "F. DU TILLET." 
 
 Du Tillet did not put a dot over the / in his name. 
 To those with whom he carried on business this vol- 
 untary error was a conventional sign. The most 
 urgent recommendations, the warm and favorable 
 insistence of his letter meant nothing, then. Such 
 a letter, in which exclamation points entreated, in 
 which Du Tillet went, as it were, on his knees, was 
 then wrung by powerful considerations; he had not 
 been able to refuse it ; it must be regarded as not hav- 
 ing reached its destination. On seeing the i without
 
 304 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 the dot, his friend then gave the cold shoulder to 
 him who solicited. Many people of the world, and 
 some of the most important, are thus trifled with by 
 business men, as if they were children, and by 
 bankers and lawyers, all of whom have a double 
 signature, one negative, the other positive. The 
 shrewdest are caught by it To recognize this 
 trick, it is necessary to have experienced the 
 double effect of a warm letter and of a cold letter. 
 
 "You are saving me, Du Tillet!" said Cesar, as 
 he read this letter. 
 
 "Good Heavens," said Du Tillet, "go and ask for 
 money. Nucingen, on reading my note, will give 
 you as much as you want. Unfortunately, my 
 cash is tied up for some days; otherwise I would 
 not send you to the prince of higher banking, for 
 the Kellers are only pigmies compared with the 
 Baron de Nucingen. It is Law reappearing in 
 Nucingen. With my letter you will be all right 
 by January 15, and we will see to it after that. 
 Nucingen and I are the best friends in the world; 
 he would not disoblige me for a million." 
 
 "it is like an endorsement," Birotteau said to 
 himself, as he went away filled with gratitude 
 toward Du Tillet. "Well," he thought, "a kind- 
 ness is never lost." 
 
 And he philosophized out of sight. Yet a thought 
 soured his happiness. He had indeed for some days 
 kept his wife from thrusting her nose into the 
 books, he had turned over the cash drawer to Celes- 
 tin while assisting him, he had been able to wish
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 
 
 " Yes, mannna" exclaimed Cesarine. ''Biit,fatJLer 
 ivas very courageous. All that I i<.'isJi is to be loved 
 as he loves you. He thought ouly of your grief !' 
 
 ''My dream has come true" said the poor woman, 
 as she let herself fall on her sofa by the f re-place, 
 pale, wan and frightened-looking. "/ had foreseen 
 everytJung. I told you so on that fatal night, in our 
 old room zuhich you have demolished, there would 
 remain to us only eyes to zveep zvith. My poor 
 Cesarine ! I — "
 
 11^' ■.■-Bi'l 
 
 I/) x-
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 305 
 
 that his wife and daughter had the enjoyment of 
 the fine apartments that he had arranged and fur- 
 nished for them; but, these first minor pleasures 
 having been exhausted, Madame Birotteau would 
 rather be dead than give up seeing for herself to the 
 details of her house, give up, as she herself expressed 
 it, holding the handle of the frying-pan. Birotteau 
 found himself at the end of his tether; he had used 
 all his artifices to conceal from his wife the knowl- 
 edge of the symptoms of his distress. Constance 
 had strongly disapproved of the sending out of the 
 bills, she had grumbled at the clerks, and accused 
 Celestinof wanting to ruin her house, thinking that 
 Celestin alone was responsible for this idea. By 
 Birotteau's orders, Celestin allowed himself to be 
 scolded. Madame Cesar, in the clerk's eyes, ruled 
 the perfumer, for it is possible to deceive the pub- 
 lic, but not the members of the household, regarding 
 who has the real superiority in an establishment. 
 Birotteau must confess his predicament to his wife, 
 for the account with Du Tillet was going to be 
 worth a justification. On his return, Birotteau 
 trembled when he saw Constance at her desk, veri- 
 fying the book of bills falling due and, no doubt, 
 counting the cash. 
 
 "What have you to pay with to-morrow?" she 
 asked in a whisper when he sat down beside her. 
 
 "Money," he replied, as he drew out his bank- 
 notes and made a sign to Celestin to take them. 
 
 "But where do they come from?" 
 
 "I will tell you that this evening. Celestin, 
 20
 
 306 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 write, end of March, a note for ten thousand francs, 
 to the order of Du Tillet." 
 
 "Du Tillet!" Constance repeated, terror-stricken. 
 
 "I am about to see Popinot," said Cesar. "It is 
 wrong for me not to have gone before now to visit him 
 at his own place. Are they selling any of his oil ?" 
 
 "The three hundred bottles that he left with us 
 are gone." 
 
 "Birotteau, don't go out, I have something to say 
 to you," said Constance, as she took Cesar by the 
 arm and led him to her room with a haste that in 
 any other circumstances would have excited laugh- 
 ter. "Du Tillet!" she said, when she was alone 
 with her husband, and after having made sure that 
 only Cesarine was with her, "Du Tillet, who stole 
 a thousand crowns from us ! You are doing business 
 with Du Tillet, a monster — who tempted my fidel- 
 ity," she whispered in his ear. 
 
 "A youthful folly," said Birotteau, who had sud- 
 denly become strong-minded. 
 
 "Listen, Birotteau, you are going crazy, you do 
 not go any more to the factory. 1 feel that there is 
 something wrong! You must tell me what it is. I 
 want to know everything." 
 
 "Well," said Birotteau, "we have come near be- 
 ing ruined, we were even so this morning, but 
 everything is all right now." 
 
 And he narrated the horrible story of his fort- 
 night. 
 
 "That, then, was the cause of your illness!" 
 Constance exclaimed.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 307 
 
 "Yes, mamma," exclaimed Cesarine. "But, 
 father was very courageous. All that 1 wish is to 
 be loved as he loves you. He thought only of your 
 grief." 
 
 "My dream has come true," said the poor woman, 
 as she let herself fall on her sofa by the fire-place, 
 pale, wan and frightened-looking. "I had foreseen 
 everything. I told you so on that fatal night, in 
 our old room which you have demolished, there 
 would remain to us only eyes to weep with. My 
 poor Cesarine! 1 — " 
 
 "Come, just look at you," exclaimed Birotteau. 
 "You are not going to rob me of the courage that I 
 need!" 
 
 "Pardon, my love," said Constance, as she 
 took hold of Cesar's hand and pressed it with a ten- 
 derness that went to the poor man's heart "1 am 
 wrong. Here is misfortune come upon us. I will be 
 silent, resigned and full of strength. No, you will 
 never hear a word of complaint." 
 
 She threw herself into Cesar's arms, and there 
 said as she wept : 
 
 "Courage, my love, courage! I shall have enough 
 for two if it be needed." 
 
 "My oil, wife, my oil will save us." 
 
 "May God protect us!" said Constance. 
 
 "Will not Anselme, then, assist my father.-*" said 
 Cesarine. 
 
 "I am going to see him," exclaimed Cesar, too 
 much moved by his wife's heart-rending tone, for 
 she had not been fully known to him even after
 
 3o8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 nineteen years. "Constance, do not fear any 
 longer. Here, read Du Tillet's letter to Monsieur de 
 Nucingen. We are sure of a credit. Between now 
 and then I will have won my lawsuit. Besides," 
 he added, as he told a necessary fib, "we have our 
 uncle Pillerault; it is only necessary to be cour- 
 ageous." 
 
 "If that were the only question!" said Con- 
 stance, smiling. 
 
 Birotteau, relieved of one great weight, walked 
 like a man just set at liberty, though he felt in him- 
 self the indefinable exhaustion that follows exces- 
 sive moral struggles in which is spent more nervous 
 fluid, more will-power, than one ought to give out 
 dail)'', and from which one takes, so to say, part of 
 the capital of existence. Birotteau had already 
 grown old. 
 
 The house of A. Popinot, in the Rue des Cinq- 
 Diamants, had changed considerably within two 
 months. The shop had been repainted. The 
 shelves, newly done up and filled with bottles, 
 delighted the eye of every trader who knows the 
 symptoms of prosperity. The shop floor was lit- 
 tered with packing paper. The store contained 
 small casks of various oils, the agency for which 
 had been acquired for Popinot by the devoted Gau- 
 dissart. The books and the counting-room, as well 
 as the cashier's office, were over the shop and the 
 rear shop. An old cook did the housekeeping for 
 three clerks and Popinot. Popinot, confined in a 
 corner of the shop and behind a desk enclosed with
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 309 
 
 glass, appeared in a serge apron, with green linen 
 double sleeves, his pen behind his ear, when he was 
 not buried in a mass of papers, as at the moment 
 when Birotteau arrived, at which time he unloaded 
 his messenger, who came in burdened with remit- 
 tances and orders. At these words: "Well, my 
 boy," spoken by his former employer, he raised his 
 head, locked his cabin, and came out with a joyous 
 air and the point of his nose red. There was no 
 fire in the shop and its door remained open. 
 
 "I was afraid you would never come," Popinot 
 replied, with a respectful bearing. 
 
 The clerks ran to see the great man of the per- 
 fumery business, the decorated deputy, their em- 
 ployer's partner. These mute homages flattered 
 the perfumer. Birotteau, but lately so small with 
 the Kellers, felt the need of imitating them: he 
 stroked his chin, with the aid of his heels he 
 bounded in a way suggestive of vanity, at the same 
 time giving expression to his commonplaces. 
 
 "Well, my friend, do the folks get up early?" 
 he asked him. 
 
 "No, but they are not always asleep," said Pop- 
 inot; "one must cling to success." 
 
 "Well, what did I say? My oil is a fortune." 
 
 "Yes, sir, but the means of execution count for 
 something in it: I have given your diamond a good 
 setting." 
 
 "In reality," said the perfumer, "where are we? 
 Are there any profits?" 
 
 "At the end of a month!" exclaimed Popinot,
 
 3IO CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "are you thinking of that? Friend Gaudissart 
 has been on the road only twenty-five days, and 
 has hired a post-chaise without telling me of it. 
 Oh! he is very devoted. We will owe much to 
 my uncle! The newspapers," he whispered in 
 Birotteau's ear, "will cost us twelve thousand 
 francs." 
 
 "The newspapers!" exclaimed the deputy. 
 
 "You haven't read them, then?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You know nothing, then," said Popinot. 
 "Twenty thousand francs for placards, frames and 
 prints! — a hundred thousand bottles bought! — Ah! 
 everything is sacrifice at this moment. The man- 
 ufacture is conducted on a large scale. If you had 
 set foot in the Faubourg, where I have spent many 
 nights, you would have seen a small nut-cracker of 
 my own invention that is not worm-eaten. On 
 my own account I have made, these last five days, 
 three thousand francs on nothing but commissions 
 on the oils of the drug business." 
 
 "What a clear head!" said Birotteau, laying his 
 hand on little Popinot's hair and stroking it as if 
 Popinot had been a mere child. "I predicted it." 
 
 Several persons came in. 
 
 "On Sunday we dine at your aunt Ragon's, " said 
 Birotteau, who left Popinot to his business when 
 he saw that the young man whom he had come to 
 sound was not yet broken down. "Isn't it extra- 
 ordinary! a clerk becomes a merchant in twenty- 
 four hours," thought Birotteau, who could think no
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 3II 
 
 less of Popinot's happiness and stability than of 
 Du Tillet's luxury. 
 
 Birotteau had not dreamt that the clerks were 
 looking at him, and that a head of a house has his 
 dignity to preserve at home. There, as at Du Til- 
 let's, the simple-minded man had been guilty of a 
 folly from goodness of heart, and, from want of ob- 
 serving a proper sense of delicacy, expressed in the 
 middle-class fashion, Cesar would have hurt the 
 feelings of any other man than Anselme. 
 
 That Sunday dinner with the Ragons was to be 
 the last joy of the nineteen happy years of Birot- 
 teau's housekeeping, and a complete joy besides. 
 Ragon lived in the Rue du Petit-Bourbon-Saint- 
 Sulpice, on a third floor, in an old house of dignified 
 appearance, in an old tenement with piers, where 
 danced nymphs in hoop-skirts and where grazed 
 sheep of that eighteenth century whose grave and 
 serious middle class, of comical manners, of respect- 
 ful ideas regarding the nobility, devoted to sovereign 
 and to Church, was admirably represented by the 
 Ragons. Furniture, clocks, linen, dishes and plates, 
 everything, in fact, seemed to be partriarchal, of 
 forms that were new by their very oldness. The 
 parlor, hung with old damask, adorned with broca- 
 telle curtains, displayed duchess chairs, what-nots, 
 a superb Popinot, alderman of Sancerre, painted by 
 Latour, Madame Ragon's father, a picture of a jolly 
 good-fellow, and who smiled like an upstart in his 
 glory. At home Madame Ragon was not herself with- 
 out a little English dog — the King Charles Spaniel
 
 312 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 breed — which produced a marvelous effect on 
 the hard little sofa, in rococo style, that certainly 
 had never played the part of Crebillon's sofa. 
 Among all their virtues the Ragons were noted for 
 a stock of old wines that had reached a perfect 
 development, and for owning some Madame Anfoux 
 liqueurs, which some people giddy enough to love 
 — hopelessly, it was said, — the pretty Madame 
 Ragon, had brought from the Isles. And so their 
 little dinners were prized! An old cook, Jeannette, 
 served the two old people with a blind devotedness; 
 she would have stolen fruits to make confections 
 for them ! Instead of taking her money to a savings 
 bank, she wisely put it into lotteries, hoping one 
 day to draw a big prize for her employers. On 
 the Sunday when they had company, she, in 
 spite of her sixty years, superintended the dishes 
 in the kitchen, and at table served with an agility 
 that would have given points to Mademoiselle Con- 
 tat in her role of Susanna in the Marriage of 
 Figaro. 
 
 Those invited were Judge Popinot, Uncle Piller- 
 ault, Anselme, the three Birotteaus, the three 
 Matifats and the Abbe Loraux. Madame Matifat, 
 but lately having a dancing turban on her head, 
 came in a blue velvet dress, thick cotton stockings 
 and goat-skin shoes, chamois gloves trimmed with 
 green plush, and a hat turned up like a rose and 
 decked with auriculas. These ten persons were 
 assembled at five o'clock. The old Ragons en- 
 treated their guests to be punctual. When this
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 313 
 
 worthy household was invited, care was taken to 
 have dinner at this hour, for those seventy-year-old 
 stomachs did not become accustomed to the new 
 hours adopted by the swells. 
 
 Cesarine knew that Madame Ragon would place 
 her alongside of Anselme: all women, even the 
 devout and foolish, understand one another in the 
 matter of love. The perfumer's daughter had then 
 dressed herself so as to turn Popinot's head. Con- 
 stance, who had, not without a pang, given up the 
 notary, who played in her thoughts the part of an 
 hereditary prince, contributed, not without bitter 
 reflections, to this toilet. This foreseeing mother 
 lowered the modest gauze neckerchief so as to show 
 a little of Cesarine's shoulders and expose the 
 throat, which was of remarkable elegance. The 
 Greek bodice, crossed from left to right in five folds, 
 could be opened so as to show captivating fulness. 
 The lead-gray merino dress, with furbelows trimmed 
 with green embellishments, clearly outlined a figure 
 that had never appeared so fine or so lithesome. 
 The ears were adorned with wrought gold pendants. 
 The hair, done up in Chinese fashion, allowed one 
 to take in at a glance the sweet freshness of a skin 
 shaded with veins througn which the purest life 
 shone at the pale places. In fine, Cesarine was so 
 takingly pretty that Madame Matifat could not help 
 acknowledging it, without perceiving that mother 
 and daughter had understood the necessity of be- 
 witching little Popinot. 
 
 Neither Birotteau, nor his wife, nor Madame
 
 314 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Matifat, no one, in fact, disturbed the sweet conver- 
 sation that the two young people, inflamed by love, 
 were carrying on in a low voice in a window recess 
 where the cold was blowing its penetrating north 
 wind. Besides, the conversation of the great per- 
 sonages became animated when Judge Popinot let 
 a word slip regarding Roguin's flight, remarking 
 that he was the second notary who had failed, and 
 that such a crime was formerly unknown. Madame 
 Ragon, on hearing Roguin's name, touched her 
 brother's foot. Pillerault hushed the Judge's voice 
 and both called his attention to Madame Birotteau. 
 
 "I know all," said Constance to her friends, in a 
 voice at the same time mild and painful. 
 
 "Well," said Madame Matifat to Birotteau, who 
 humbly bowed his head, "how much has he taken 
 from you? If one were to listen to gossipings, you 
 are ruined." 
 
 "He had two hundred thousand francs of mine. 
 As for the forty that he had loaned to me in imagi- 
 nation by one of his clients, whose money was 
 squandered by him, we are in litigation." 
 
 "You will have a verdict rendered this week," 
 said Popinot. "1 felt that you would not want me 
 to explain your situation to the presiding judge; he 
 has ordered the production of Roguin's papers in the 
 council chamber, so as to examine from what period 
 the lender's funds were diverted and the proofs of 
 the fact alleged by Derville, who himself pleaded so 
 as to save you costs." 
 
 "Shall we win.?" asked Madame Birotteau.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 315 
 
 "I do not know," Popinot replied. "Though I be- 
 long to the court-room to which the matter has been 
 referred, I will abstain from taking part, even 
 should they call on me." 
 
 "But can there be any doubt on the issue of so 
 simple a trial?" asked Pillerault. "Should not the 
 receipt mention the delivery of the goods, and the 
 notaries declare having seen them given by the 
 lender to the borrower? Roguin would go to the 
 galleys if he were in the hands of justice." 
 
 "In my opinion," replied the judge, "the lender 
 ought to protect himself against Roguin on the price 
 paid for the office and the security; but, in matters 
 still more clear, sometimes, in the royal court, 
 judges are found six to six." 
 
 "What, Mademoiselle, Monsieur Roguin has 
 fled?" said Popinot, as he at last heard what was 
 being talked about. "Monsieur Cesar has said 
 nothing of it to me, to me who would give my life's 
 blood for him — " 
 
 Cesarine understood that the whole family stuck 
 to this for him, for, if the innocent girl had misun- 
 derstood the emphasis, she could not be deceived as 
 to the look that enveloped him in a purple flame. 
 
 "I was well aware of it, and I told him so, but he 
 concealed everything from my mother and confided 
 only in me." 
 
 "You have spoken to him of me, in this connec- 
 tion," said Popinot; "you read in my heart, but do 
 you read all in it?" 
 
 "Perhaps."
 
 3l6 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "I am very happy," said Popinot. *'If you wish 
 to rid me of all fear, in a year I will be so rich that 
 your father will no longer receive me so coldly 
 when I speak to him of our marriage. I am going 
 hereafter to sleep only five hours a night — " 
 
 "Do not do yourself an injustice," said Cesarine, 
 in an inimitable tone, as she cast on Popinot a look 
 in which her whole thought was read. 
 
 "Wife," said Cesar, as he was leaving table, "I 
 think these young people love each other." 
 
 "Well, so much the better," said Constance, in 
 a grave tone of voice; "my daughter will be the 
 wife of a man of ability and great energy. Talent 
 is the finest gift of a future husband." 
 
 She hastily left the parlor and went into Madame 
 Ragon's room. Cesar, during dinner, had spoken a 
 few phrases that made Pillerault and the judge 
 smile, so much ignorance did they betray, and that 
 reminded that unfortunate woman how little strength 
 her poor husband had to struggle against misfor- 
 tune. Constance wept from her heart; she instinc- 
 tively distrusted Du Tillet, for all mothers know the 
 Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes without knowing 
 Latin. 
 
 She wept in her daughter's and Madame Ragon's 
 arms, without wishing to acknowledge the cause of 
 her suffering. 
 
 "It is nervousness," she said. 
 
 The rest of the evening was given up to cards 
 by the old folks, and by the young to those delight- 
 ful little games called innocent, because they cloak
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 317 
 
 the innocent mischief of middle-class love. The 
 Matifats interested themselves in the little games. 
 
 "Cesar," said Constance, while returning,"go not 
 later than the eighth to Baron de Nucingen's, so as to 
 make sure long in advance for your bills falling due 
 on the fifteenth. If any difficulty should arise, is 
 it between to-day and to-morrow that you would 
 find resources.?" 
 
 "I will go, wife," replied Cesar, who clasped 
 Constance's hand and that of his daughter, as he 
 added: "My sweet darlings, I have made you sad 
 New Year's presents!" 
 
 In the darkness of the hackney-coach, these two 
 women, who could not see the poor perfumer, felt 
 warm tears fall on their hands. 
 
 "Hope, my love," said Constance. 
 
 "Everything will be well, papa; Monsieur 
 Anselme Popinot has told me that he would shed 
 his blood for you." 
 
 "For me," rejoined Cesar, "and for the family, is 
 it not?" he said, assuming a cheerful tone. 
 
 Cesarine clasped her father's hand, as though to 
 tell him that Anselme was her betrothed.
 
 During the first three days of the year two hun- 
 dred cards were sent to Birotteau's house. This 
 affluence of moci< friendship, these testimonies of 
 favor, are horrible to people who see themselves 
 swept on by the current of misfortune. Birotteau 
 three times visited in vain the residence of the 
 famous banker, the Baron de Nucingen. The open- 
 ing of the year and its feasts sufficiently justified 
 the financier's absence. The last time the perfumer 
 penetrated as far as the banker's office, where the 
 chief clerk, a German, told him that Monsieur de 
 Nucingen, having returned at five o'clock in the 
 morning from a ball given by the Kellers, could not 
 be seen at half-past nine. Birotteau knew how to 
 interest the chief clerk in his affairs, and with him 
 he remained chatting for nearly half an hour. Dur- 
 ing the day this minister of the Nucingen house 
 wrote to him to say that the Baron would receive 
 him the next day, the third, at noon. Though each 
 hour brought its drop of bitterness, the day passed 
 with frightful rapidity. The perfumer came in a hack, 
 and stopped within one pace of the house, the court- 
 yard of which was filled with carriages. The poor, 
 honest man's heart became quite depressed at sight 
 of the splendors of this famous house. 
 
 "And yet he has failed twice," he said to himself 
 
 (319)
 
 320 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 as he ascended the superb stairway, decked with 
 flowers, and passed through the sumptuous apart- 
 ments for which the Baroness Delphine de Nucingen 
 had made herself famous. The Baroness pretended 
 to rival the richest houses of the Faubourg Saint- 
 Germain, where she had not yet been admitted. 
 The baron was breakfasting with his wife. In 
 spite of the number of people who were waiting 
 for him in his office, he said that Du Tillet's friends 
 could enter at any hour. Birotteau bounded with 
 hope as he saw the change that the baron's words 
 had produced on the valet's countenance, insolent as 
 it was at first. 
 
 "Bardon me, mein tear," said the Baron to his 
 wife as he arose and made a slight inclination of 
 the head to Birotteau, "mein shentleman eez ein goot 
 royalizt ant de fery indimade frient of Ti Dilet 
 Moreofer, de shentleman is tebudy of de zegund ar- 
 rontizement ant gifs palls of a Hasiadig macnivi- 
 zenze; you vill no toudt pe bleased making agvain- 
 dance ov him." 
 
 "But I would be very much flattered to go and 
 take lessons from Madame Birotteau at her home, 
 for Ferdinand — (Come, thought the perfumer, she 
 calls him plain Ferdinand !) — has spoken to us of that 
 ball with an admiration so much the more remark- 
 able as he admires nothing. Ferdinand is a severe 
 critic, everything must be perfect. Will you soon 
 give another?" she asked in the most amiable 
 manner. 
 
 "Madame, poor people like us rarely amuse
 
 AT THE BAROX DE NUCIXGEN'S 
 
 " Mt his Icddcr you liaf ad vicin oitsc cin gretid 
 vat is liniidcd pud py tc poiindts of nicin (ni<n 
 iwrtchen — " 
 
 The exhilarating balm contained in the zcater 
 presented by the angel to Agar in the desert must 
 have resembled the detv deposited in the perfumer s 
 veins by these half-Germa7i ivords. * * * 
 
 There came into the room i?i a familiar way a 
 young man zi'hose step, recognized from afar by 
 Delphine de Nucingen, had made her blush deeply.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE $21 
 
 themselves," replied the perfumer, not knowing 
 whether it was raillery or cheap compliment. 
 
 "Meinnesir Crintod tiregded the rezdorazion of 
 your abardmends," said the Baron. 
 
 "Ah! Grindot! a fine little architect who has 
 just returned from Rome?" said Delphine de Nucin- 
 gen. "I dote on him; he draws such delightful 
 designs in my album." 
 
 No conspirator bedeviled by the Venetian inquis- 
 itor was more ill at ease in the rack of torture than 
 was Birotteau in his clothes. He detected a banter- 
 ing air in every word. 
 
 "Vee gifs alzo de leedle palls," said the baron, 
 as he cast an inquisitive look on the perfumer. 
 "You zee vat de vorldt zays blainly !" 
 
 "Will Monsieur Birotteau breakfast unceremo- 
 niously with us?" said Delphine, as she pointed to 
 her sumptuously-supplied table. 
 
 "Baroness, 1 have come on business and am — " 
 
 "Yez," said the baron. "Matam, bermid uz to 
 sbeag of pizniss?" 
 
 Delphine made a slight sign of assent as she said 
 to the baron : 
 
 "Are you going to buy perfumery?" 
 
 The baron shrugged his shoulders and turned 
 towards Cesar, who felt desperate. 
 
 "Ti Dilet dages de geenest inderest in you," he 
 said. 
 
 "At last," thought the poor merchant, "we are 
 coming to the question." 
 
 "Vit his ledder you haf ad mein ouze ein gretid 
 
 21
 
 322 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 vat is limided pud py te poundts of mein own 
 vortchen — " 
 
 The exhilarating balm contained in the water 
 presented by the angel to Agar in the desert must 
 have resembled the dew deposited in the perfumer's 
 veins by these half-German words. The astute 
 baron, in order to have reasons for going back on 
 words well thought out and but indistinctly heard, 
 had adopted the horrible accent of the German Jews, 
 who flatter themselves they know how to speak 
 the language of the country they dwell in. 
 
 "Undt you vill haf ein gurrendt aggoundt. Zee 
 how vee vill brozeedt," the good, the venerable and 
 the great financier said with Alsatian good-nature. 
 
 Birotteau no longer doubted of anything. He was 
 a man of trade and knew those who are not disposed 
 to oblige never enter into details as to the carrying 
 out of suggestions. 
 
 "I vill not dell you dat of de crate as veil as of 
 de leedle de Pangk temandts dree zignadures. Den, 
 you vill pring your nodes to de ordter off our vrient, 
 Ti Dilet, und 1 vill sent dem de same tay vit mein 
 zignadure to de Pangk, and you vill haf in vore 
 hours de ordter vor de nodes dat you vill haf zup- 
 zcriped in de morning, und ad de Pangk rades. I 
 vish needer kemmission, nor disgount, notings, 
 vor 1 vill av de blezhur of peing acreaple doo you — 
 yed I bud vun gundission !" he said, putting his left 
 index fmger to his nose with a gesture of inimitable 
 artifice. 
 
 "Baron, it is granted already," said Birotteau,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 323 
 
 who thought of some advance discount on what was 
 coming to him. 
 
 "Von gondission to vich I addadge de greadest im- 
 bordance, pegauze 1 vish Matame ti Nicinguenne 
 dakes, az zhe haz sed, de leszuns of Matame 
 Pirodot." 
 
 "Baron, do not make fun of me, I entreat you !" 
 
 "Meinnesir Pirodot," said the financier, in a seri- 
 ous tone, "id iz accreed, you vill infide uz doo 
 your negst pall. Mein vife iz chellus, zhe vants 
 doo zee your abbardemends, vor effery potty say 
 ein goodt vordt of dem. " 
 
 "Baron!" 
 
 "Oh! eev you revoose uz, no aggoundt! you pee 
 in great vafor. Yah! I am avare dat you haf de 
 brevet of de Seine dat haf come to you." 
 
 "Baron!" 
 
 "You haf La Pillarti^re, a shentleman ortinary of 
 de Shamper, Fenteheine, as you as vas vounted 
 — ad Sainte — " 
 
 "On the thirteenth Vendemiaire, Baron." 
 
 "You hat Meinnesir de Lassebette, Meinnesir, 
 Fauqueleine of the Agatemee— " 
 
 "Baron!" 
 
 "Eh! der teufel, don't be zo motest, Meisder 
 Tebudy. I learn dat de ging haz sedt dat your 
 pall—" 
 
 "The king.?" said Birotteau, who could not bear 
 to hear any more of it. 
 
 There came into the room in a familiar way 
 a young man whose step, recognized from afar
 
 324 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 by Delphine de Nucingen, had made her blush 
 deeply. 
 
 "Coot tay, mein tear Te Marsay, " said Baron de 
 Nucingen, "dake my blace; there is, 1 haf peen dolt, 
 a heabing vire in mein offeez. I know de reason! 
 de Vortschinne mines gif two gabidals in ingome! 
 Yah, I haf receefed the aggounts ! you haf ein hun- 
 dert tousandt vrancs of ingome more, Matame ti 
 Nicinguenne. You gan puy choindures und all de 
 pauples you vandt do pe breddy, as eef you neeted 
 dem." 
 
 "Great God ! the Ragons have sold their shares !" 
 exclaimed Birotteau. 
 
 "Who are these gentlemen?" asked the young fop, 
 smiling. 
 
 "Zee," said Monsieur de Nucingen, as he turned 
 back, for he had already reached the door, "id zeems 
 do me as dese bersons — Te Marsay, diess iz Men- 
 nesire Pirodot, your berfeumer, as gifs dem palls zo 
 macnivizendt Asiatic, whom der ging haz tegor- 
 adet— " 
 
 De Marsay put on his eye-glass and said: 
 
 "Ah! true. I thought that this figure was not un- 
 known to me. You are going, then, to perfume 
 your business with some effective cosmetic, to oil 
 it?—" 
 
 "Veil, dese Rakhons," continued the baron, mak- 
 ing a grimace like a man who is dissatisfied, "haf 
 ein aggount mit me, who haf vafored dem mit ein 
 vorchun, und dey haf nod batience do vait von tay 
 
 more."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 325 
 
 "Baron!" exclaimed Birotteau, 
 
 The poor man found his business very much in 
 the dark, and, without saluting either the Baroness 
 or De Marsay, he ran after the banker. Monsieur 
 de Nucingen was on the first step of the stairs; the 
 perfumer overtook him at the bottom as he was en- 
 tering his office. On opening the door, Monsieur de 
 Nucingen observed a despairing gesture of this poor 
 creature, who felt as if he was sinking into an abyss, 
 and said to him : 
 
 "Veil, id iz unterstoot? Zee Ti Dilet, und 
 arrainsh eferyting mit heem." 
 
 Birotteau thought that De Marsay could influence 
 the baron. He went up the stairs again with the 
 rapidity of a swallow, glided into the dining-room, 
 where the baroness and De Marsay might yet be 
 found : he had left Delphine waiting for her coffee 
 with cream. He indeed saw the coffee poured out, 
 but the baroness and the young fop had disappeared. 
 The valet smiled at the astonishment of the per- 
 fumer, who went down the stairs slowly. Cesar 
 ran to Du Tillet's, who was, he was told, in the 
 country, at Madame Roguin's. The perfumer took 
 a cab and paid to be taken as quickly as the post 
 to Nogent-sur-Marne. At Nogent-sur-Marne the 
 janitor told the perfumer that monsieur and madame 
 had set out for Paris. Birotteau returned all pros- 
 trated. When he told his wife and daughter of 
 his journey, he was dazed at seeing Constance, 
 ordinarily perched like a bird of ill-omen on the 
 slightest ruffle of trade, giving him the sweetest
 
 326 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 consolations, and assuring him that everything 
 would go well. 
 
 Next day, Birotteau found himself at seven o'clock 
 in Du Tillet's street, at day-break, on guard. He 
 entreated Du Tillet's porter to put him in relations 
 with Du Tillet's valet de chambre, and slipped ten 
 francs to the porter. Cesar obtained the favor of 
 speaking to Du Tillet's valet de chambre, and asked 
 him to let him see Du Tillet as soon as Du Tillet 
 would be visible, and he slipped two gold pieces 
 into the hand of the valet de chambre. These 
 little sacrifices and these great humiliations, com- 
 mon to courtiers and beggars, enabled him to attain 
 his object At half-past eight, just as his old clerk 
 was getting rid of his night-shirt; and throwing off 
 the confused ideas of waking up, was yawning and 
 stretching himself, and excusing himself to his old 
 master, Birotteau found himself face to face with 
 the tiger famishing for revenge which he wished to 
 wreak on his only friend. 
 
 "Do, do it," said Birotteau. 
 
 "What do you want, my good Cesar?" said Du 
 Tillet. 
 
 Cesar delivered, not without frightful palpita- 
 tions. Baron de Nucingen's answer and conditions, 
 which received no attention from Du Tillet, who 
 listened to him while looking for his bellows and 
 scolding his valet de chambre for the awkwardness 
 with which he was lighting the fire. 
 
 The valet de chambre was listening. Cesar did not 
 at first observe him, but he saw him at last,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 327 
 
 stopped confused, and continued, when spurred by 
 Du Tillet, thus: 
 
 "Go on, go on. I am listening to you!" said the 
 distraught banker. 
 
 The poor man's shirt was wet His perspiration 
 turned cold when Du Tillet directed his fixed stare 
 on him, let him see his silver-white pupils, striped 
 with some golden threads, piercing him to the heart 
 with a diabolical stare. 
 
 "My dear master, the Bank has refused notes of 
 yours passed by the Claparon house to Gigonnet, 
 without recourse, and is that my fault? What! 
 you, a former consular judge, are you making such 
 blunders? I am, first of all, a banker, I will 
 give you my money, but I could not expose my sig- 
 nature to receiving a refusal from the Bank. I exist 
 only by credit. We are all in that box. Do you 
 want money?" 
 
 "Can you give me all that I need?" 
 
 "That depends on the amount to be paid! How 
 much do you want?" 
 
 "Thirty thousand francs." 
 
 "What a lot of chimney pipe is falling on my 
 head!" said Du Tillet, as he burst out laughing. 
 
 On hearing this laughter, the perfumer, misled 
 by Du Tillet's exuberance, would see in it the laugh 
 of a man to whom the sum was a small matter, and 
 he breathed more easily. Du Tillet rang the bell. 
 
 "Tell my cashier to come up." 
 
 "He has not arrived, sir," the valet de chambre 
 replied.
 
 328 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Those knaves are taking liberties with me! It 
 is half-past eight One might have attended to a mil- 
 lion's worth of business by this time." 
 
 Five minutes later Monsieur Legras came up. 
 
 "How much cash have you on hand?" 
 
 "Twenty thousand francs only. The gentleman 
 has given orders to buy thirty thousand francs' 
 worth of bonds for cash, payable the fifteenth." 
 
 "True. I must be still asleep." 
 
 The cashier looked squintingly at Birotteau and 
 then left. 
 
 "If truth were banished from earth, it would en- 
 trust its last word to a cashier," said Du Tillet. 
 
 "Have you not an interest in the Popinot house, 
 which has just been established?" he asked after 
 a horrible pause, during which the perspiration 
 stood out in big drops on the perfumer's forehead. 
 
 "Yes," Birotteau said, candidly. "Do you think 
 that you could discount his signature for me for a 
 considerable sum?" 
 
 "Bring me his acceptances for fifty thousand 
 francs. I will have them passed at a reasonable 
 figure with a certain Gobseck, a very mild fel- 
 low when he has much money to place, and he 
 has it." 
 
 Birotteau returned home distressed, not noticing 
 that the bankers had sent him from one to another, 
 like a shuttlecock; but Constance had already 
 seen that any credit was impossible. If so far 
 three bankers had refused, all must have had an 
 understanding about a man as much in evidence as
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 329 
 
 was the deputy, and consequently recourse could 
 not be had to the Bank of France. 
 
 "Try to renew," said Constance, "and go to 
 Monsieur Claparon, your co-partner, and finally to 
 all those to whom you have given notes for the fif- 
 teenth, and propose renewals. It will always be 
 time to return to the discounters with the Popinot 
 paper." 
 
 "To-morrow is the thirteenth," said Birotteau, 
 quite downcast. 
 
 According to an expression used in his prospec- 
 tus, he enjoyed a sanguine temperament that con- 
 sumes enormously by emotions or by thought, and 
 that positively needs sleep to repair its losses. 
 Cesarine led her father into the salon and played 
 for him, so as to recreate him, Rousseau's Dream, a 
 very pretty piece by Herold, and Constance worked 
 beside him. The poor man allowed himself to drop 
 his head on an ottoman, and, every time that he 
 raised his eyes to look at his wife, he saw her with 
 a sweet smile on her lips; thus he went to sleep. 
 
 "Poor man!" said Constance; "for what tortures 
 is he reserved!— Provided that he survives them !" 
 
 "Ah! what ails you, mamma?" said Cesarine, as 
 she saw her mother in tears. 
 
 "Dear daughter, I see a failure coming. If your 
 father is obliged to stop payment, we must not im- 
 plore any one's pity. My child, be prepared to 
 become a mere shop-girl. If I see you taking your 
 part courageously, I will have the strength to begin 
 life over again. I know your father; he will not
 
 330 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 keep a penny, I will give up my rights, they will 
 sell all that we possess. You, my child, take your 
 jewels and your wardrobe to Uncle Pillerault's 
 to-morrow, for you are not in any way involved." 
 
 Cesarine was seized with unbounded dread as she 
 heard these words spoken with a religious sim- 
 plicity. She bethought herself of going to see An- 
 selme, but delicacy prevented her. 
 
 Next day, at nine o'clock, Birotteau found him- 
 self in the Rue de Provence, a prey to anxieties 
 quite other than those through which he had passed. 
 To ask a credit is a very simple matter in trade. 
 Every day, in starting a business, it is necessary 
 to find capital ; but to ask renewals is, in commer- 
 cial jurisprudence, what the police court is to the 
 assize court, a first step towards failure, as misde- 
 meanor leads to crime. The secret of your power- 
 lessness and of your difficulty is in other hands 
 than your own. A merchant puts himself bound 
 hand and foot at the disposition of another merchant, 
 and charity is not a virtue practised at the Bourse. 
 
 The perfumer, who of old carried a high head so 
 confidently when he went abroad in Paris, now, 
 weakened by doubts, hesitated as he was about to 
 enter Banker Claparon's; he began to understand 
 that with bankers the heart is only an intestine. 
 Claparon seemed to him so brutal in his gross joy, 
 and he had detected in him so much bad form, that 
 he trembled on approaching him. 
 
 "He is nearer the people; he will perhaps have 
 more feeling!"
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 331 
 
 Such was the first accusing word that the desper- 
 ation of his position dictated to him. 
 
 Cesar drew out his last dose of courage from the 
 bottom of his soul, and ascended the stairs of a 
 mean little entresol on the windows of which he 
 espied green curtains faded by the sun. He read 
 on the door the word OFFICE, engraved in black on 
 an oval copper plate; he knocked, no one answered; 
 he entered. Those places, more than unpretending, 
 showed misery, avarice or neglect. No employe 
 showed himself behind the brass gratings, placed 
 high enough to lean upon on unpainted white wood- 
 work that served as a guard-rail for tables and 
 desks of blackened wood. These deserted offices 
 were encumbered with ink-wells in which the ink 
 was becoming mouldy, pens as much out of order 
 as street urchins, twisted into the form of turnsols; 
 with cartons, papers, printed forms, no doubt use- 
 less, littered about The floor of the passage resem- 
 bled that of a boarding-house parlor, so worn, dirty 
 and damp was it. The second room, the door of 
 which was adorned with the word CASHIER was in 
 harmony with the sinister humors of the outer 
 office. In a corner was found a large oak-wood cage 
 latticed with copper wire, with a slide-hole, and 
 furnished with an enormous iron box, no doubt 
 abandoned to the rompings of rats. This cage, the 
 door of which was open, contained also a fantastic 
 desk, and a mean arm-chair, full of holes, green, 
 with a cushioned seat from which the hair was 
 escaping, like the master's wig, in a thousand
 
 332 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 wanton corkscrews. This room, evidently in 
 former times the salon of a tenement before it was 
 converted into a banking office, had for its chief 
 ornament a round table covered with green cloth, 
 around which were old chairs with black morocco, 
 and nails with the gilding worn off. The mantel- 
 piece, rather elegant, presented to the eye none of 
 tlie black marks that fire leaves; its shelf was 
 clean ; its glass, soiled by flies, had a mean appear- 
 ance, in keeping with a mahogany clock that came 
 from the sale of some old notary's effects and that 
 wearied one's eyes, afflicted already by the sight of 
 two candlesticks without candles and by a sticky 
 dust. The wall-paper, a mouse gray, bordered with 
 rose, bespoke through sooty tints the unwholesome 
 sojourn of some smokers. Nothing so closely resem- 
 bled the mean room that the newspapers call the 
 editor's office. Birotteau, fearing to be indiscreet, 
 struck three mild raps on the door opposite to that 
 by which he had entered. 
 
 "Come in!" exclaimed Claparon, whose tone 
 revealed the distance that his voice had to travel 
 and the emptiness of that room in which the per- 
 fumer heard a good fire crackling, but in which the 
 banker was not. 
 
 This room served him indeed as a private office. 
 Between Keller's luxuriant audience chamber and 
 the singular carelessness of this pretended great 
 man of business there was all the difference that 
 exists between Versailles and the wigwam of a 
 Huron chief. The perfumer had seen the grandeur
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 333 
 
 of the Bank; he was going to see its seamy 
 side. 
 
 Lying on a sort of oblong box placed behind the 
 office, and where the habits of a careless life had 
 spoiled, soiled, greased, ruined, confused, torn, and 
 destroyed a whole suit of furniture that was almost 
 elegant when it was new, Claparon, as soon as he 
 saw Birotteau, enveloped himself in his dirty dress- 
 ing gown, put down his pipe, and drew the bed- 
 curtains with a rapidity that laid his morals open 
 to the innocent perfumer's suspicions. 
 
 "Be seated, sir," said this imitation of a 
 banker. 
 
 Claparon, wigless, and with his head enveloped 
 in a silk handkerchief arranged cross-wise, seemed 
 the more hideous to Birotteau as the dressing gown, 
 being open, showed him a sort of knitted white 
 woolen undershirt turned brown by indefinitely 
 prolonged use. 
 
 "Will you have breakfast with me?" Claparon 
 said, as he remembered the perfumer's ball and 
 wanted as much to have his revenge as to return 
 the compliment by this invitation. 
 
 In fact, a round table, hurriedly cleared of its 
 papers, betrayed a pretty company on showing a 
 pate, oysters, white wine, and common kidneys 
 stewed in champagne curdled in their own juice. In 
 front of the coal fire the flame was gilding an ome- 
 lette with truffles. Finally, two covers and their 
 napkins, stained by the supper of the night before, 
 threw light on the purest innocence. Like a man
 
 334 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 who thought himself shrewd, Claparon insisted in 
 spite of Birotteau's refusal. 
 
 "I was to have had some one, but that some one 
 is not showing up," exclaimed the malignant trav- 
 eler, in a way to make himself heard by a person 
 who might have been buried under his bed-clothes. 
 
 "Sir," said Birotteau, "I have come only on busi- 
 ness, and I will not detain you long." 
 
 "I am overwhelmed," Claparon replied, as he 
 pointed to a cylindrical secretary and tables loaded 
 with papers. "They do not leave me a single 
 moment to myself. I receive only on Saturdays, 
 but as for you, dear sir, you are always welcome! 
 I no longer find time either to make love or to stroll. 
 I am losing the attraction for business, which, to 
 regain its life, needs a wisely studied rest. No 
 one sees me any more on the boulevards, occupied 
 in doing nothing. Bah! business makes me tired. 
 I don't want to hear any more talk of business. I 
 have enough money and will never have enough 
 happiness. Faith, I want to travel, to see Italy! 
 Oh! dear Italy! still beautiful amid her reverses, 
 adorable land where I will no doubt fmd a soft and 
 majestic Italian girl! I have always loved the 
 Italian women! Have you ever had an Italian girl 
 for your own ? No. Well, come with me to Italy. 
 We will see Venice, the abode of the doges, and 
 too unfortunately fallen into the unappreciative 
 hands of Austria, where the arts are unknown! 
 Bah! let us leave business aside, canals, loans and 
 peaceful governments. I am a good fellow when I
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 335 
 
 have my craw filled. Thunder ! let us go travel- 
 
 ing." 
 
 "Only one word, sir, and I will leave you," said 
 Birotteau. "You have passed my notes over to 
 Monsieur Bidault. " 
 
 "You mean Gigonnet, that good little Gigonnet, 
 a man who is slippery — as a knot." 
 
 "Yes," replied Cesar. "I would like — and in 
 this I count on your honor and delicacy — " 
 
 Claparon nodded. 
 
 "1 would like to be able to renew — " 
 
 "impossible," the banker curtly replied. "I am 
 not alone in the affair. We are assembled in coun- 
 sel, a veritable chamber, where we are as thick 
 as slices of bacon in the frying-pan. Oh! the 
 devil ! we are deliberating. The Madeleine land is 
 nothing; we are operating elsewhere. Eh! dear sir, 
 if we were not concerned in the Champs-Elysees, 
 around the Bourse that is nearly completed, in the 
 Saint-Lazare quarter and at Tivoli, we would not 
 be, as big Nucingen says, in pi^ni:^. What, then, 
 is the Madeleine? A little brat of a thing. Prrr! 
 We do not play low, my good fellow," he said, as 
 he punched Birotteau in the stomach and shook him. 
 "Come, let us see. Have breakfast; we will chat," 
 Claparon continued, so as to soften his refusal. 
 
 "With pleasure," said Birotteau. "So much the 
 worse for the companion," thought the perfumer, as 
 he contemplated fuddling Claparon in order to learn 
 who were his real associates in an affair that began 
 to seem dark to him.
 
 336 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Good! Victoire!" the banker called out 
 
 To this call responded a real Leonarda decked 
 like a fishwoman. 
 
 "Tell my clerks that I am not in to anyone, not 
 even to Nucingen, the Kellers, Gigonnet and 
 others!" 
 
 "Only Monsieur Lempereur has come." 
 
 "He will receive the fine people," said Claparon. 
 "The trash will not pass the outer room. They 
 will be told that 1 am excogitating a bold stroke — 
 some champagne." 
 
 To fuddle an old traveling agent is an impossi- 
 bility. Cesar took the sally of bad form as a symp- 
 tom of drunkenness, and he tried to make his 
 associate confess. 
 
 "That wretch Roguin is always with you," said 
 Birotteau. "Should you not write to him asking him 
 to aid a friend whom he has compromised, a man 
 with whom he dined every Sunday and whom he 
 has known for twenty years?" 
 
 "Roguin? — adolt! We have his share. Don't be 
 sad, my good fellow; everything will be all right. 
 Pay on the fifteenth, and the first time we shall 
 see! When I say we shall see— (a glass of wine!) 
 — bonds do not concern me in any way. Ah ! 
 you would not pay. I would not make believe 
 to you, I am in the matter only for a commission 
 on the purchase and a dividend in the sales; by 
 which means I manage the owners — do you under- 
 stand? You have solid partners, and so I am not 
 afraid, my dear sir. To-day business is divided!
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 337 
 
 A matter of business requires the combining of 
 so many capacities! Will you join us in business? 
 Don't waste your time with pots of pomade and 
 combs; bad! bad! Shear the public, enter into 
 speculation." 
 
 "Speculation?" said the perfumer, "what is that 
 trade?" 
 
 "It is trade in the abstract," replied Claparon, 
 "a trade that will remain secret for half a score 
 years or more, if you are to believe the great Nu- 
 cingen, the Napoleon of finance, and by which a man 
 takes in the totals of figures, skims off the revenues 
 before they exist, a gigantic conception, a method 
 of putting hope in regularly arranged sections, — in 
 fine, a new cabal ! There are as yet only ten or 
 twelve strong heads of us initiated into the cabal- 
 istic secrets of these magnificent combinations." 
 
 Cesar opened his eyes and ears as he tried to 
 understand this composite phraseology. 
 
 "Listen," said Claparon, after a pause. "Such 
 strokes mean men. There is the man with ideas 
 who hasn't a sou, like all people with ideas. 
 Such folk think and spend, without paying atten- 
 tion to anything. Picture to yourself a pig wandering 
 in a wood in which truffles grow ! He is followed by 
 a jolly fellow, the moneyed man, who awaits the 
 grunting that follows discovery. When the man of 
 ideas has run across a good thing, the moneyed man 
 then taps him on the shoulder and says to him: 
 'What's that? you are running into the jaw of a fur- 
 nace, my good fellow; you are not holding the reins 
 22
 
 338 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 stiff enough ; here's a thousand francs and let me 
 bring out this matter. ' Good ! the banker then calls 
 in the adventurers. 'My friends, to work! prospec- 
 tuses ! death to humbug !' They take hunting horns 
 and cry in trumpet tones: 'A hundred thousand 
 francs for five sous !' or, five sous for a hundred 
 thousand francs, gold mines, coal mines — in fine, all 
 the high airs of trade. One buys the opinion of 
 men of science or art, the procession moves, the 
 public enters; it has something for its money, the 
 receipt is in our hands. The pig is housed in its 
 pen with potatoes, and the others wallow in bank- 
 notes. There it is, my dear sir. Go into business. 
 What would you be ? A pig, a turkey-cock, a man of 
 straw or a millionaire ? Reflect on that : I have for- 
 mulated for you the theory of modern loans. Come 
 and see me; you will find a good fellow always 
 jovial. French joviality, grave and gay at the same 
 time, does not injure business. On the contrary! 
 Men who tipple are in a good position to under- 
 stand themselves! Come! another glass of cham- 
 pagne? It is well matured, come! This wine was 
 sent by an Epernay man himself, for whom I made 
 a good sale, and at a good price — I was in my cups. — 
 He shows his gratitude and remembers me in my 
 prosperity. That doesn't often happen." 
 
 Birotteau, surprised at the levity and thoughtless- 
 ness of this man, whom everybody credited with 
 astonishing depth and capacity, did not dare to 
 question him further. In the bungling state of ex- 
 citement into which the champagne had put him, he
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 339 
 
 yet remembered a name that Du Tillet had men- 
 tioned, and asked who was or where lived Mon- 
 sieur Gobseck, the banker. 
 
 "Have you come to that, my dear sir?" said 
 Claparon. "Gobseck is as much a banker as the 
 Paris executioner is a physician. His first word is 
 the. fifty per cent; he is of the Harpagon school : he 
 holds at your disposal canaries that are only 
 finches, stuffed boas, summer furs, winter nan- 
 keens. And what security would you offer him ? 
 To get him to take your paper flat you would have 
 to pledge your wife, your daughter, your umbrella, 
 everything, even to your hat-box, your clogs — you 
 indulge in the jointed clog, — shovel, tongs, and the 
 wood you have in your cellar !— Gobseck! Gobseck! 
 pink of misfortune! who has directed you to this 
 financial guillotine.?" 
 
 "Monsieur Du Tillet." 
 
 "Ha! the rogue, I knew it. We were formerly 
 friends. If we have quarreled so as not to speak to 
 each other, believe me that my aversion is well 
 founded : he let me read the very depths of his 
 muddy soul, and he put me very much ill at ease 
 during the fine ball that you gave us. I cannot bear 
 him with his puppy airs, because he is keeping a 
 notary's wife! I'll have marchionesses, I will, 
 when I wish, and he will never have my esteem, 
 not he! Ah! what I prize is a princess, one who 
 will never crowd him in his bed. You are a comical 
 chap. Tell us, then, big papa, how you could palm off 
 a ball on us, and two months afterwards ask for
 
 340 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 renewals ! You may go very far. Let us do busi- 
 ness together. You have a reputation, it will be 
 of service to me. Oh ! Du Tillet was born to un- 
 derstand Gobseck. Du Tillet will end badly in the 
 business. If, as people say, he is this old Gob- 
 seck's bell-weiher, he cannot go very far. Gob- 
 seck is in the corner of his web, crouching like an 
 old spider that has been around the world. Sooner 
 or later, Zttt! the usurer sniffs his man as I do this 
 glass of wine. So much the better. Du Tillet 
 played a trick on me — oh! a trick that deserves 
 hanging." 
 
 After an hour and a half spent in babbling that had 
 no meaning, Birotteau wanted to leave when he saw 
 the former commercial traveler ready to narrate to 
 him the adventure of a representative of the people at 
 Marseilles, in love with an actress who was playing 
 the part of the pretty Arslne ! and who was hissed 
 by the royalist pit. 
 
 "He arose," said Claparon, "and struck an atti- 
 tude in his box : Who hissed — he ! If it is a woman, 
 1 despise her; if it is a man, we will see; if it is 
 neither one nor the other, may God's curse light on 
 it! — Do you know how the adventure ended?" 
 
 "Adieu, sir," said Birotteau. 
 
 "You will have to come and see me," Claparon 
 then said to him. "The first Cayron driblet has 
 come back to us protested, and I am endorser, and 
 I paid it. I am going to send it to you, for, busi- 
 ness before everything else." 
 
 Birotteau felt himself cut as deeply to the heart
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 341 
 
 by this cold-blooded and grinning favor as by Kel- 
 ler's hardness and Nucingen's German raillery. 
 This man's familiarity and his grotesque confidences, 
 kindled by the champagne, had blasted the honest 
 perfumer's soul, and he felt as if he were leaving a 
 financial place of ill-repute. He went down stairs, 
 found himself in the street, without knowing 
 whither he was going. He continued along the 
 boulevards, reached the Rue Saint-Denis, bethought 
 himself of Molineux, and directed his course towards 
 the Cour Batave. He climbed up the dirty and tor- 
 tuous stairway which but lately he had ascended 
 glorious and proud. He recalled Molineux's mean 
 harshness, and trembled at the thought of having to 
 beseech him. As at the time of the perfumer's first 
 visit, the landlord was in his chimney corner, but 
 digesting his breakfast; Birotteau formulated his 
 request to him. 
 
 "Renew a note for twelve hundred francs?" said 
 Molineux, in a tone of jeering incredulity. "You 
 are not in that fix, sir. If you have not twelve 
 hundred francs on the fifteenth to pay my note, you 
 will then send me back my receipt for unpaid rent? 
 Ah ! I would be sorry for it. I am not in the least 
 polite in the matter of money; my rents are my 
 revenues. Without that, with what would I pay 
 what I owe? A man in trade will not disapprove 
 of this salutary principle. Money knows nobody; 
 it has no ears, money hasn't; it has no heart, 
 money hasn't The winter is severe, and wood has 
 gone up. If you do not pay on the fifteenth, on
 
 342 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 the sixteenth a little notice, at noon. Bah! the 
 good man, Mitral, your constable, is mine; he will 
 send you his notice in an envelope, with all the 
 regards due to your high position." 
 
 "Sir, I never received a summons on my own 
 account," said Birotteau. 
 
 "There is a beginning to everything," said Moli- 
 neux. 
 
 Dismayed by this little old man's blunt ferocity, 
 the perfumer was downcast, for he heard the knell 
 of his insolvency tinkling in his ears. Each tink- 
 ling recalled the memory of the dicta that his piti- 
 less jurisprudence had suggested to him regarding 
 failures. His opinions were outlined in traits of 
 fire on the soft matter of his brain. 
 
 "By the way," said Molineux, "you have for- 
 gotten to put on your notes : value received in rents, 
 which may save my privilege." 
 
 "My position forbids me to do anything to the 
 detriment of my creditors," said the perfumer, stu- 
 pefied at the sight of the chasm yawning before 
 him. 
 
 "Good, sir, very well; I thought I had learned 
 everything in the matter of renting with those gen- 
 tlemen, the tenants. I learn from you never to take 
 notes in payment. Ah ! I will go to law, for your 
 answer tells me clearly that you will go back on 
 your signature. This kind of doings interests all 
 the landlords in Paris." 
 
 Birotteau left disgusted with life. It is of the na- 
 ture of those tender and soft souls to be disheartened
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 343 
 
 at a first refusal, just as a first success encour- 
 ages them. Cesar no longer had any hope but in 
 little Popinot's devotedness, and of him he natu- 
 rally thought as he found himself at the Innocents' 
 market. 
 
 "The poor youth! Who would have told me that 
 when, six weeks ago, at the Tuileries, 1 started 
 him!"
 
 It was about four o'clock, just the time when the 
 magistrates leave the Palace. Perchance the com- 
 mitting judge had come to see his nephew. This 
 judge, one of the clearest-headed of men in matters 
 of morals, had a second sight that enabled him to 
 perceive secret intentions, to recognize the mean- 
 ing of the most indifferent human acts, the germs 
 of a crime, the roots of a delinquency, and he 
 looked at Birotteau without Birotteau knowing it 
 The perfumer, thwarted by finding the uncle with 
 the nephew, seemed to him constrained, concerned, 
 thoughtful. Little Popinot, always full of business, 
 with his pen behind his ear, was as ever obse- 
 quious in the presence of Cesarine's father. The 
 common-place phrases spoken by Cesar to his partner 
 seemed to the judge to be but the screens of an im- 
 portant request. Instead of leaving, the shrewd 
 magistrate remained with his nephew in spite of 
 his nephew, for he had calculated that the perfumer 
 would try to get rid of him by retiring himself. 
 When Birotteau left, the judge went also, but he 
 remarked Birotteau strolling in the part of the Rue 
 des Cinq-Diamants that leads to the Rue Aubry-le- 
 Boucher. This very slight circumstance aroused 
 suspicions in old Popinot regarding Cesar's inten- 
 tions, and he then left by way of the Rue des 
 
 (345)
 
 346 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Lombards, and, when he had seen the perfumer go 
 back into Anselme's, he promptly returned thither. 
 
 "My dear Popinot, " Cesar had said to his part- 
 ner, "1 come to ask a favor of you." 
 
 "What must be done ?" asked Popinot, with gener- 
 ous ardor. 
 
 "Ah! you save my life!" the good man ex- 
 claimed, happy at that warmth of heart which 
 sparkled amid the icebergs through which he had 
 been sailing for the past twenty-five days — "I 
 must negotiate for fifty thousand francs to the ac- 
 count of my share of the profits. We will have an 
 understanding as to the payment." 
 
 Popinot looked steadily at Cesar, and Cesar 
 looked down. At that moment the judge reappeared. 
 
 "My boy — Ah! excuse me. Monsieur Birotteau! 
 My boy, I forgot to tell you — " 
 
 And with the imperious gesture of a magistrate, 
 the judge beckoned his nephew into the street, and 
 forced him, though in shirt sleeves and bareheaded, 
 to listen to him as they walked towards the Rue des 
 Lombards. 
 
 "Nephew, your old employer might find himself 
 so embarrassed in business that it would be neces- 
 sary for him to stop payment. Before getting there, 
 men who can boast of forty years of probity, the 
 most virtuous men, with the desire of preserving 
 their honor, imitate the wildest gamblers; they are 
 capable of anything: they sell their wives, traffic 
 in their daughters, compromise their best friends, 
 pledge what does not belong to them; they go into
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 347 
 
 gambling, become comedians, liars; they know 
 how to weep— in fine, I have seen the most extra- 
 ordinary things. You, yourself, have been a wit- 
 ness to Roguin's ingenuousness, to whom one would 
 have given the Holy Sacrament without requiring his 
 confession. I do not apply these rigid conclusions 
 to Monsieur Birotteau; I think him honest. But if 
 he asked you to do anything that would be contrary 
 to the laws of trade, such as signing accommodation 
 notes and dragging you into a system of kite-flying, 
 which, in my opinion, is a beginning of knavery, for 
 it is false paper-money, promise me that you will 
 sign nothing without consulting me. Think that, 
 .if you love his daughter, you must not, in the very 
 interest of your passion, destroy your future. If 
 Monsieur Birotteau is going to fall, what is the use 
 of both of you falling.? Is it not to deprive both of 
 you of the chances of your business establishment, 
 which will be his refuge?" 
 
 "Thanks, uncle; a word to the wise is sufifi- 
 cient," said Popinot, to whom the desperate appeal 
 of his employer was then explained. 
 
 The dealer in refined and other oils returned into 
 his dark shop, his brow marked with care. Birot- 
 teau noticed this change. 
 
 "Do me the honor of coming up to my room. We 
 will be in a better position there than here. The 
 clerks, though very busy, might hear us." 
 
 Birotteau followed Popinot, a prey to the anx- 
 ieties of the convict between the quashing of his 
 sentence or the rejection of his appeal.
 
 348 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "My dear benefactor," said Anselme, "you cer- 
 tainly iiave no doubt of my devotedness; it is blind. 
 Allow me only to ask of you whether this sum 
 will wholly save you, or if it is only a delay of some 
 catastrophe, and then what would be the use of 
 dragging me into it? You want notes for ninety 
 days. Well, in three months it will certainly be 
 impossible for me to take them up." 
 
 Birotteau, pale and solemn, arose and looked at 
 Popinot 
 
 Popinot, in terror, exclaimed: 
 
 "I will give them, if you wish." 
 
 "Ingrate!" exclaimed the perfumer, who used 
 what was left of his strength to cast this word in 
 Anselme's face as a mark of infamy. 
 
 Birotteau walked towards the door and went out. 
 Popinot, having recovered from the feeling that this 
 terrible word had produced on him, rushed down the 
 stairs, ran into the street, but he did not find the 
 perfumer. Cesarine's lover never heard that for- 
 midable sentence; he had constantly before his eyes 
 poor Cesar's broken appearance: he lived at last, 
 like Hamlet, with a dread spectre by his side. 
 
 Birotteau walked along the streets of that quarter 
 like a man who was intoxicated. Yet he at last 
 found himself on the quay, followed it and went as 
 far as Sevres, where he spent the night in an inn, 
 crazy from grief; and his wife, distracted, dared not 
 have search made for him anywhere. In such a case 
 an alarm imprudently given is fatal. The wise 
 Constance sacrificed her anxiety to the reputation
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 349 
 
 of trade; she waited during the whole night, min- 
 gling her prayers with tears. Was Cesar dead? 
 Had he gone to make some round outside of Paris, 
 on the trace of a last hope? Next morning she be- 
 haved as if she knew the reasons for this absence; 
 but she called in her uncle and entreated him to go 
 to the Morgue, when she saw that, at five o'clock, 
 Birotteau had not returned. During this time the 
 courageous creature was at her desk, and her daugh- 
 ter was embroidering by her side. Both of them, 
 with calm countenance, neither sad nor smiling, 
 waited on the public. When Pillerault returned, he 
 returned in Cesar's company. On his way back 
 from the Bourse he had met him in the Palais-Royal, 
 hesitating as to whether he should go up to gamble. 
 That day was the fourteenth. At dinner Cesar 
 could not eat. His stomach, too violently con- 
 tracted, refused nourishment. The afternoon was 
 more horrible. The merchant experienced for the 
 hundredth time one of those frightful alternations 
 of hope and despair which, making the soul go up 
 the whole gamut of gladsome sensations, then pre- 
 cipitates it into the lowest feelings of grief, plays 
 with these weak natures. Derville, Birotteau's 
 lawyer, came and rushed into the splendid parlor 
 where Madame Cesar was using all her power to 
 keep her poor husband, who wanted to go to bed in 
 the sixth story, "so as not to see the monuments of 
 my folly!" he said. 
 
 "The case is won," said Derville. 
 
 At these words Cesar stretched out his contracted
 
 350 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 form, but his joy frightened Uncle Pillerault and 
 Derville. The women left in terror to go and weep 
 in Cesarine's room, 
 
 "I can borrow, then ?" exclaimed the perfumer. 
 
 "That would be imprudent," said Derville. 
 "They have appealed, the court may reverse the 
 verdict; but in a month we will have a decision." 
 
 "A month!" 
 
 Cesar fell into a stupor from which no one tried 
 to arouse him. This sort of arrested catalepsy, 
 during which the body lived and suffered, while 
 the functions of the intellect were suspended, this 
 respite given by chance was regarded as a blessing 
 from God by Constance, Cesarine, Pillerault and 
 Derville, who thought aright. Birotteau could thus 
 endure the harrowing emotions of the night. He 
 was in an arm-chair near the fire-place ; on the other 
 side was his wife, who watched him attentively, 
 with a sweet smile on her lips, one of those smiles 
 which prove that women are nearer than men to the 
 angelic nature, in that they know how to mingle an 
 infinite tenderness with the fullest compassion, a 
 secret that belongs only to angels seen in certain 
 dreams providentially distributed at long intervals 
 over human life. Cesarine, seated on a small stool, 
 was at her mother's feet, and from time to time 
 lightly brushed with her hair her father's hands, at 
 the same time giving him a caress into which she 
 tried to put the ideas that, in such crises, the voice 
 makes wearisome. 
 
 Seated in his arm-chair, as the Chancellor de
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 351 
 
 THopital in his in the peristyle of the Chamber of 
 Deputies, Pillerault, that philosopher ready for 
 everything, showed on his countenance that intel- 
 ligence graven on the brow of the Egyptian 
 sphinxes, and chatted with Derville in a low voice. 
 Constance had entertained the idea of consulting 
 the lawyer, whose discretion was not to be sus- 
 pected. Having her accounts arranged in her head, 
 she explained her situation in Derville's ear. After 
 a conference lasting about an hour, held before the 
 stupefied perfumer's eyes, the lawyer shook his head 
 as he looked at Pillerault. 
 
 "Madame," he said, with the terrible coolness of 
 men of business, "you must shut up shop. Sup- 
 posing that by any artifice you succeeded in paying 
 to-morrow, you would have to clear off at least three 
 hundred thousand francs before you could borrow 
 on all your land. Against liabilities of five hundred 
 and fifty thousand francs you have very handsome, 
 very productive, assets, but not realizable; you will 
 succumb at a given time. My advice is that it is 
 better to jump out of the window than to let yourself 
 be rolled down stairs." 
 
 "That is my advice also, my child," said Piller- 
 ault. 
 
 Derville was shown out by Madame Cesar and 
 Pillerault. 
 
 "Poor father," said Cesarine, who arose sweetly 
 to imprint a kiss on Cesar's brow. "Anselme, 
 then, has been able to do nothing?" she asked when 
 her uncle and her mother returned.
 
 352 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Ingrate!" exclaimed Cesar, struck by this name 
 in the only living part of his memory, like a key of 
 a piano when the hammer is about to strike its 
 string. 
 
 From the moment when this word was hurled at 
 him like an anathema, little Popinot had not a 
 moment's sleep nor an instant's peace. The unhappy 
 youth spoke ill of his uncle, and had gone to find 
 him. To make that old judiciary experience capit- 
 ulate, he used the eloquence of love, hoping to win 
 over the man on whom human words fell like water 
 on oil-cloth, a judge! 
 
 "Commercially speaking," hesaidto him, "usage 
 allows the managing partner to turn over a certain 
 sum to the ?ilent partner in anticipation of the 
 profits, and our firm ought to realize it. A thorough 
 examination being made of my affairs, I feel the 
 reins strong enough in my hands to pay forty thous- 
 and francs in three months! Monsieur Cesar's 
 honesty encourages the belief that these forty thous- 
 and francs are going to be used to take up his notes. 
 Thus the creditors, if bankruptcy comes, will 
 have no reproach to make against us! Moreover, 
 uncle, 1 prefer to lose forty thousand francs than 
 to lose Cesarine. At this moment, as I am speaking, 
 she has, no doubt, been informed of my refusal, and 
 is going to think less of me. I have promised to 
 shed my blood for my benefactor! I am in the case 
 of a young sailor who should sink as he holds his 
 captain's hand, of a soldier who should perish along 
 with his general."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 353 
 
 *'Good-hearted, but a bad business man, you will 
 not lose my esteem," said the judge, as he clasped 
 his nephew's hand. "I have thought a great deal of 
 this," he continued. "I know that you are madly 
 in love with Cesarine. I believe that you can com- 
 ply both with the laws of the heart and the laws of 
 trade." 
 
 "Ah! uncle, if you have found the means, you 
 save my honor." 
 
 "Advance to Birotteau fifty thousand francs by 
 making a deed of redemption relative to your inter- 
 ests in your oil, which has become, as it were, a prop- 
 erty. I will draw up the deed for you." 
 
 Anselme embraced his uncle, returned to his 
 house, made out notes for fifty thousand francs, and 
 ran from the Rue des Cinq-Diamants to the Place 
 Vendome, so that at the moment when Cesarine, 
 her mother and their Uncle Pillerault were looking 
 at the perfumer, surprised at the sepulchral tone 
 in which he had uttered that word "Ingrate!" in 
 answer to his daughter's question, the parlor door 
 opened and Popinot appeared. 
 
 "My dear and well-beloved master," he said, as 
 he wiped his brow, wet with perspiration, "here's 
 what you have asked of me." 
 
 He was handing him the notes. 
 
 "Yes, I have thoroughly studied my position. 
 Have no fear, I will pay; save, save your honor!" 
 
 "I was quite sure of him," Cesarine exclaimed, 
 as she seized Popinot's hand and pressed it with 
 convulsive strength. 
 23
 
 354 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Madame Cesar embraced Popinot. The per- 
 fumer posed as a just man listening to the trumpet 
 of the last judgment. He arose as if he were coming 
 out of a tomb! Then he reached out his hand 
 in a frenzied movement to take hold of the fifty 
 stamped papers. 
 
 *'One moment !" said the terrible Uncle Pillerault, 
 as he snatched the notes from Popinot; "one 
 moment!" 
 
 The four personages who made up that family, 
 Cesar and his wife, Cesarine and Popinot, stunned 
 by their uncle's action and by his tone, looked at 
 him in amazement as he tore the notes and threw 
 them into the fire, which consumed them without 
 anyone stopping them on the way. 
 
 "Uncle!" 
 
 "Uncle!" 
 
 "Uncle!" 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 It was four voices, four hearts in unison, a fright- 
 ful unanimity. Uncle Pillerault took little Popinot 
 by the neck, pressed him to his heart and kissed 
 him on the forehead. 
 
 "You are worthy of the adoration of all those who 
 have a heart," he said to him. "If you loved my 
 daughter, and were she to have a million, and were 
 you nothing to me but that — he pointed to the black 
 ashes of the notes — if she loved you, you would be 
 married in a fortnight. Your employer," he said, 
 referring to Cesar, "is a fool. Nephew, "the grave 
 Pillerault continued, addressing the perfumer, "no
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 355 
 
 more illusions! One ought to do business with 
 money, and not with sentiments. That is sublime, 
 but useless. I have spent two hours at the Bourse. 
 You have not two farthings' worth of credit; every- 
 body was speaking of your disaster, of renewals 
 refused, of your efforts with several bankers, of 
 their refusal, of your follies, six flights of stairs 
 ascended to go to fmd a landlord as prattling as a 
 magpie, in order to renew for twelve hundred 
 francs, your ball given to conceal your stringency. — 
 Some go so far as to say that you had nothing at 
 Roguin's. According to your enemies, Roguin is a 
 pretext. One of my friends, instructed to fmd out 
 everything, has come to confirm my suspicions. 
 Everyone has a presentiment of the issuing of the 
 Popinot notes; you set him up purposely in order to 
 make him a medium for notes. In fine, all the cal- 
 umnies and slanders that are drawn upon himself 
 by a man who wants to ascend one step higher on 
 the social ladder are circulating at this moment in 
 the world of trade. You might peddle in vain for a 
 week Popinot's fifty notes at all the offices; you 
 would meet with humiliating refusals, and no one 
 would have them : no one knows the number of them 
 that you have issued, and people are waiting to see 
 you sacrificing this poor youth in order to save 
 yourself. You would have destroyed by certain 
 loss the credit of the Popinot house. Do you know 
 what the boldest of discounters would give you 
 for these fifty thousand francs } Twenty thous- 
 and. Twenty thousand, do you understand! In
 
 356 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 trade there are moments when it is necessary to be 
 able to keep yourself before the world for three days 
 without eating, as if one had indigestion, and, on the 
 fourth, one is admitted to the larder of credit. You 
 cannot live these three days; everything is in that. 
 My poor nephew, have courage ; you must stop pay- 
 ment. Look at Popinot, look at me. We are going, 
 as soon as your clerks go to bed, to work together 
 in order to spare you this anguish." 
 
 "Uncle! — " said the perfumer, as he clasped his 
 hands. 
 
 "Cesar, do you want, then, to reach a shameful 
 settlement in which there will be no assets.? Your 
 interest in the Popinot house saves your honor." 
 
 Cesar, having his mind cleared by this fatal and 
 last ray of light, finally saw the frightful truth in all 
 its bearing. He fell back in his chair, then on his 
 knees. His mind wandered, he became a child again. 
 His wife thought he was dying; she knelt down to 
 raise him up. But she joined with him when she 
 saw him clasping his hands, raising his eyes and 
 reciting, with resigned compunction, in the presence 
 of his uncle and Popinot, the sublime prayer of 
 Catholics: 
 
 "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be 
 Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done 
 on earth as it is in heaven: GIVE US THIS DAY OUR 
 DAILY BREAD, and forgive us our trespasses as we 
 forgive those that trespass against us; and lead us 
 not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. 
 Amen."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 357 
 
 Tears came to the stoic Pillerault's eyes; Cesa- 
 rine, overwhelmed, and in tears, had her head bent 
 on Popinot's shoulder, pale and fixed as a statue. 
 
 "Let us go down," said the former merchant to 
 the young man, as he took hold of his arm. 
 
 At half-past eleven o'clock, they left Cesar to the 
 care of his wife and daughter. At that moment 
 Celestin, the chief clerk, who had managed the 
 house during this secret storm, went up to the apart- 
 ments and was entering the salon. On hearing 
 his step, Cesarine ran to open the door for him, so 
 that he would not see the master's sad plight. 
 
 "Among the letters that came this evening," he 
 said, "there was one from Tours, which was imper- 
 fectly addressed, thus causing delay. I imagine that 
 it is from the master's brother, and have not 
 opened it" 
 
 "Father," said Cesarine, "a letter from my uncle 
 in Tours!" 
 
 "Ah! I am saved," Cesar exclaimed. "Brother! 
 brother!" he said, as he kissed the letter. 
 
 FRANCOIS BIROTTEAU'S REPLY TO CESAR. 
 
 " TOURS, 17th inst. 
 
 " MY DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER, 
 
 " Your letter has been a most severe affliction to me ; and 
 so, after having read it, I went to offer up to God the holy 
 sacrifice of the Mass for your benefit, interceding with Him, 
 by the blood that His Son, our Divine Redeemer, shed for us, 
 to cast on your sorrows a look of mercy. At the moment 
 when I pronounced my prayer Pro meo fratre Ccesare, my eyes
 
 358 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 were filled with tears as I thought of you, from whom, unfor- 
 tunately, I am separated at a time when you must need the 
 aid of fraternal friendship. But 1 thought that the worthy 
 and venerable Monsieur Pillerault would no doubt take my 
 place. My dear Cesar, do not forget, amid your sorrows, 
 that this life is a transitory life and full of trials ; that one 
 day we will be rewarded for having suffered for the Holy 
 Name of God, for His Holy Church, for having observed the 
 maxims of the Gospel and practised virtue; otherwise, the 
 things of this world would have no meaning. I repeat these 
 maxims for you, knowing how pious and good you are, 
 because it may happen to persons who, like you, are thrown 
 amid the storms of the world and cast on the perilous sea of 
 human interests, to allow themselves to blaspheme amid ad- 
 versities, carried away as they are by grief. Speak ill neither 
 of the men who will injure you, nor of God, who, at His 
 pleasure, mingles bitterness with your life. Have no regard 
 for earth ; on the contrary, ever raise your eyes towards 
 Heaven: thence come consolations for the weak; there are the 
 riches of the poor, there are the terrors of the rich — 
 
 "But, Birotteau, " said his wife to him, "pass 
 that, and see if he is sending us something." 
 
 "We will re-read it often," replied the merchant, 
 as he wiped away his tears and opened out the letter, 
 from which fell an order on the Royal Treasury. 
 "1 was quite sure of him, poor brother," said Birot- 
 teau, as he took up the order. 
 
 " — 1 went to Madame de Listomere's," he continued, read- 
 ing in a voice broken by his sobs, "and, without telling her 
 the reason for my request, I entreated her to lend me all that 
 she could spare in my favor, so as to add to my own savings. 
 Her generosity has enabled me to make up a sum of a thou- 
 sand francs; 1 send it to you in an order on the Treasury from 
 the receiver-general at Tours.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 359 
 
 "What a fine advance!" said Constance, as she 
 looked at Cesarine. 
 
 " By cutting off some superfluities in my living, I will be 
 able, in three years, to pay back Madame de Listom^re the 
 four hundred francs that she has loaned me, so do not be 
 uneasy about it, my dear Cdsar. I send you all that 1 have 
 in the world, wishing that this sum may help to a happy 
 ending of your commercial embarrassments, which, no doubt, 
 will be only temporary. I know your delicacy, and wish to 
 anticipate your objections. Do not think of giving me any 
 interest for this sum, or of paying it back to me in a time of 
 prosperity, which will not be long in coming to you, if God 
 deign to hear the prayers that I will address to Him every 
 day. According to the last letter I received from you, two 
 years ago, I thought you rich, and believed I could dispose of 
 my savings in favor of the poor ; but now all that I have 
 belongs to you. When you will have got over this passing 
 difficulty in your sailing, still keep this sum for my niece, 
 Cesarine, so that, at the time of her settlement, she may use 
 it for some trifle that will recall to her an old uncle whose 
 hands will be ever raised to heaven to ask God to shed His 
 blessings on her and on all those who will be dear to her. In 
 fine, my dear Ce'sar, think that I am a poor priest who goes 
 about by God's grace as the larks in the fields, walking in 
 His path, without making any fuss, trying to obey the com- 
 mands of our Divine Saviour, and who, consequently, needs 
 but little. So do not have the least scruple in the difficult 
 position in which you find yourself, and think of me as of 
 some one who loves you tenderly. Our excellent Abbe 
 Chapeloud, to whom I have said nothing of your situation, 
 and who knows that I am writing to you, has asked me to 
 convey to you his kindest regards for every member of your 
 family, and wishes you continued prosperity. Adieu, dear 
 and well-beloved brother. I pray that, in the circumstances 
 in which you are placed, God will do you the favor of keeping 
 you in good health, and not only you, but your wife and
 
 360 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 daughter -, I wish all of you patience and courage in your 
 adversities. 
 
 "FRANCOIS BIROTTEAU, 
 " Priest, Vicar of the Cathedral and Parish Church of 
 Saint-Gatien at Tours." 
 
 "A thousand francs," said Madame Birotteau, 
 furious. 
 
 "Hold on to them," Cesar said, gravely; "that's 
 all he has. They belong to our daughter, and may 
 keep us alive without our asking anything of our 
 creditors." 
 
 "They will think that we have set large sums 
 aside." 
 
 "I'll show tliem the letter." 
 
 "They'll say it's a trick." 
 
 "My God! my God!" exclaimed Birotteau, terri- 
 fied, "I thought that of poor people who, no doubt, 
 were in the position that I am in now." 
 
 Too ill at ease on account of the condition in 
 which Cesar found himself, mother and daughter 
 worked with the needle near him in deep silence. 
 At two o'clock in the morning, Popinot gently 
 opened the door of the salon and made a sign to 
 Madame Cesar to come down. On seeing his niece, 
 the uncle removed his spectacles. 
 
 "My child, there is hope," he said to her, "all is 
 not lost; but your husband would not endure the 
 alternatives of the negotiations to be made and that 
 Anselme and I are going to try. Do not leave your 
 shop to-morrow, and take all the addresses on the 
 notes; we have until four o'clock. Here is my
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 361 
 
 idea. Neither Monsieur Ragon nor I am to be feared. 
 Suppose, now, that your hundred thousand francs 
 deposited with Roguin were remitted to the pur- 
 cliasers; you would no more have them than you 
 have them now. You are in the presence of a hun- 
 dred and forty thousand francs signed over to 
 Claparon that you must by all means pay in any 
 case; so it is not Roguin's bankruptcy that ruins 
 you. I see, available to meet your obligations, forty 
 thousand francs to borrow sooner or later on your fac- 
 tories and sixty thousand francs of Popinot's notes. 
 One may struggle, then; for, afterwards, you can 
 borrow on the Madeleine land. If your chief cred- 
 itor consents to aid you, I will have no regard for 
 my fortune; I will sell my bonds; I will have no 
 money. Popinot will be between life and death. As 
 far as you are concerned, you will be at the mercy 
 of the slightest accident in trade. But the oil will 
 no doubt bring large profits. Popinot and I have 
 just had a consultation; we will support you in this 
 struggle. Ah! with the greatest pleasure will I eat 
 dry bread if success dawns on the horizon. But 
 everything depends on Gigonnet and the Claparon 
 partners. Popinot and I are going to Gigonnet's 
 between seven and eight o'clock, and we will know 
 what course to follow regarding their intentions." 
 Constance, quite distracted, threw herself into 
 her uncle's arms, with no other voice than tears 
 and sobs. Neither Popinot nor Pillerault could have 
 known that Bidault, called Gigonnet, and Claparon 
 were but Du Tillet's doubles, and that Du Tillet
 
 362 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 wanted to read in the Peiites-Affiches this terrible 
 article: 
 
 "Judgment of the Tribunal of Commerce which 
 declares the Sieur Cesar Birotteau, dealer in per- 
 fumes, residing in Paris, in the Rue Saint-Honore, 
 No. 397, in a state of bankruptcy, provisionally 
 fixes the opening of it for January 16, 1819, Com- 
 missary Judge, Monsieur Gobenheim-Keller. Agent, 
 Monsieur Molineux." 
 
 Anselme and Pillerault studied until daylight over 
 Cesar's affairs. At eight o'clock in the morning, 
 these two heroic friends, the one an old soldier, the 
 other a sub-lieutenant of yesterday, who was never 
 to know but by power of attorney the terrible 
 anguish of those who have ascended Bidault's, called 
 Gigonnet, stairs, went on their way, without ex- 
 changing a word, towards the Rue Grenetat. They 
 were suffering. Several times did Pillerault pass 
 his hand over his forehead. 
 
 The Rue Grenetat is a street in which all the 
 houses, invaded by a multitude of trades, present a 
 repulsive appearance. The buildings there have a 
 hideous character. The ignoble filthiness of fac- 
 tories dominates there. Old Gigonnet lived on the 
 fourth floor of a house all the windows of which 
 opened vertically and had dirty little square panes. 
 
 The stairway extended out to the very street. 
 The portress was lodged in the entresol, in a coop 
 that derived its light only from the stairway.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 363 
 
 With the exception of Gigonnet, all the tenants fol- 
 lowed a trade. Workingmen were coming in and 
 going out continually: the steps were, accordingly, 
 covered with a layer of hard or soft mud, according 
 to the weather, and on them filth sojourned. On 
 this fetid stairway, each landing presented to the 
 eye the name of the artisan written in gold on 
 sheet-iron, painted red and varnished, with samples 
 of his masterpieces. Most of the time the open 
 doors allowed one to see the strange combination of 
 housekeeping and manufacturing; there escaped 
 therefrom indescribable cries and grunts, songs, 
 whistlings recalling the hour of four with the ani- 
 mals in the Jardin de Plantes. On the second floor 
 were made, in an infected little tenement, the most 
 beautiful bands of the Paris Article. On the third 
 were made, amid the dirtiest of filth, the most ele- 
 gant bindings that deck the stalls on New Year's 
 Day. Gigonnet died worth eighteen hundred thous- 
 and francs on the fourth floor of this house; for no 
 consideration could have made him leave it, in spite 
 of the offer of Madame Saillard, his niece, to provide 
 apartments for him in a hotel in the Place Royale. 
 
 "Courage!" said Pillerault, as he pulled the 
 hind's-foot that hung by a cord at Gigonnet's gray 
 and clean door. 
 
 Gigonnet came to open his door himself. The 
 two sponsors for the perfumer, struggling in the 
 field of insolvencies, passed through an antecham- 
 ber that was neat and cold, without curtains to the 
 windows. All three sat down in the second, where
 
 364 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 the discounter kept himself before a fire-place full 
 of ashes, in the midst of which the wood defended 
 itself against the flame. Popinot's soul was chilled 
 by the usurer's green cartons, by the monastic rigid- 
 ness of that office, in which the air was like that of 
 a cave. He looked with a dullard air at the some- 
 what bluish paper on which were scattered tricolor 
 flowers pasted to the walls for the past twenty-five 
 years, and carried back his saddened eyes to the 
 mantel-piece, adorned with a clock in the form of a 
 lyre and with oblong vases of Sevres blue, richly 
 mounted with gilt copper. This piece of jetsam, 
 picked up by Gigonnet in the shipwreck of Versailles, 
 where the populace broke everything, came from 
 the queen's boudoir ; but this magnificent article 
 was accompanied by two candlesticks of the most 
 wretched design, in wrought iron, that recalled by 
 this wild contrast the circumstance that brought it 
 here. 
 
 "I know that you cannot have come on your own 
 account," said Gigonnet, "but in behalf of the great 
 Birotteau. Well, friends, what's up there?" 
 
 "I know that you have nothing to learn, and so we 
 will be brief," said Pillerault. "You hold some 
 notes in Claperon's favor.-"' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Will you exchange the first fifty thousand for 
 these notes of Monsieur Popinot, at a discount, of 
 course?" 
 
 Gigonnet took off his frightful green cap, which 
 seemed to have been born with him, showed his
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 365 
 
 cranium of the color of fresh butter and devoid 
 of hair, made his Voltairian grimace, and said: 
 
 "You want to pay me in hair oil, though 1 have 
 no hair?" 
 
 "As you are only poking fun, we have only to 
 take our leave," said Pillerault. 
 
 "You talk like the wise man that you are," Gi- 
 gonnet said to him, with a flattering smile. 
 
 "Well, if I endorsed Monsieur Popinot's notes?" 
 said Pillerault, as he made a final effort. 
 
 "You are bar gold. Monsieur Pillerault ; but I have 
 no need of gold. I must have my money only." 
 
 Pillerault and Popinot bade him good-day and left. 
 At the foot of the stairs, Popinot's limbs still shook 
 under him. 
 
 "Is it a man?" said he to Pillerault. 
 
 "It is so pretended," rejoined the old man. 
 "Always remember that short session, Anselme! 
 You have just seen banking without the masquer- 
 ade of its pleasant forms. Unforeseen events are 
 the vise of the press. We are the grapes, and bankers 
 are the vats. The affair of the land is no doubt 
 good; Gigonnet, or someone behind him, wants to 
 strangle Cesar that he may clothe himself in his 
 skin. Everything has been said; there is no further 
 remedy. That is banking. Never have recourse to 
 it!" 
 
 After that frightful morning, on which, for the 
 first time, Madame Birotteau took the addresses of 
 those who came to look for their money and sent 
 away the Bank messenger without paying him, at
 
 366 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 eleven o'clock, this brave woman, happy in having 
 spared her husband these sorrows, saw Anselme and 
 Pillerault returning, while awaiting whom she had 
 been a prey to increasing anxieties. She read her 
 sentence on their countenances. The closing out 
 of the business was inevitable. 
 
 "He is going to die of grief," said the poor 
 woman. 
 
 "1 wish that he may," Pillerault said, gravely ; 
 "but he is so religious that, in the present circum- 
 stances, his director, the Abbe Loraux, can alone 
 save him." 
 
 Pillerault, Popinot and Constance waited for a 
 clerk to be sent for the Abbe Loraux before present- 
 ing the balance sheet that Celestin was preparing for 
 Cesar's signature. The clerks were in despair; 
 they loved their employer. At four o'clock the 
 good priest arrived. Constance told him of the mis- 
 fortune that had befallen them, and the Abbe Loraux 
 went up as a soldier goes up to the breach. 
 
 "I know why you come," Birotteau exclaimed. 
 
 "My son," said the priest, "your sentiments of 
 resignation to the Divine Will have long been 
 known to me; but it is a question of applying 
 them. Keep your eyes constantly on the Cross. 
 Never cease to look upon it while thinking of the 
 humiliations to which the Saviour of mankind 
 was treated, how cruel His passion was, and you 
 will thus be able to bear the mortifications that God 
 sends you — " 
 
 "My brother, the Abbe, has already prepared me, "
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 367 
 
 said Cesar, as he showed him the letter, which he 
 had re-read, and v/hich he handed to his confessor. 
 
 "You have a good brother," said Monsieur 
 Loraux, "a virtuous and sweet wife, a tender daugh- 
 ter, two real friends, your uncle and dear Anselme, 
 two indulgent creditors, the Ragons; all these kind 
 hearts will incessantly shed balm on your wounds 
 and aid you to bear your cross. Promise me that 
 you will have the firmness of a martyr to face the 
 blow without wincing." 
 
 The Abbe coughed so as to notify Pillerault, who 
 was in the salon. 
 
 "My resignation is unbounded," said Cesar, 
 calmly. "Dishonor has come; I should think only 
 of reparation." 
 
 The poor perfumer's voice and his manner sur- 
 prised Cesarine and the priest. Yet nothing was 
 more natural. All men bear better a known, defi- 
 nite misfortune, than the cruel alternatives of a lot 
 which, from one moment to another, brings either 
 excessive joy or extreme pain. 
 
 "I have dreamt during twenty-two years, I re- 
 awaken to-day with my cudgel in my hand," said 
 Cesar, become a Touraine peasant once more. 
 
 On hearing these words, Pillerault clasped his 
 nephew in his arms. Cesar observed his wife, 
 Anselme and Celestin. The papers that the chief 
 clerk held in his hand were very significant. Cesar 
 tranquilly contemplated that group, in which all the 
 countenances were sad, but friendly. 
 
 "One moment!" he said, as he took off his cross,
 
 368 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 which he handed to the Abbe Loraux; "you shall 
 give it back to me when 1 will be able to wear it 
 without shame. Celestin, " he added, addressing 
 his clerk, "write my resignation as mayor's deputy. 
 The Abbe will dictate the letter to you. You will 
 date it the fourteenth, and have Raguet take it to 
 Monsieur de la Billardiere. " 
 
 Celestin and the Abbe Loraux went down stairs. 
 For about a quarter of an hour a deep silence reigned 
 in Cesar's office. Such firmness surprised the fam- 
 ily. Celestin and the Abbe returned; Cesar signed 
 his resignation. When Uncle Pillerault laid the 
 balance sheet before him, the poor man could not 
 repress a horrible, nervous movement. 
 
 "O ! God, have pity on me !" he said, as he signed 
 the terrible document and handed it to Celestin. 
 
 "Monsieur, Madame," then said Anselme Popinot, 
 over whose clouded brow there passed a luminous 
 flash, "do me the honor of giving me Mademoiselle 
 Cesarine's hand," 
 
 At this phrase all those present had tears in their 
 eyes, except Cesar, who arose, took Anselme's 
 hand, and in a hollow voice said to him: 
 
 "My boy, you will never marry a bankrupt's 
 daughter." 
 
 Anselme looked fixedly at Birotteau: 
 
 "Sir, you engage, in the presence of your whole 
 family, to consent to our marriage, if the young lady 
 accepts me for her husband, the day on which you 
 will be released from your insolvency?" 
 
 There was a moment's silence, during which each
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 369 
 
 one was moved by the sensations that were pictured 
 on the perfumer's dejected countenance. 
 
 "Yes," he said at last. 
 
 Anselme made an indescribable gesture in order 
 to take Cesarine's hand; she extended it to him, 
 and he tcissed it. 
 
 "You consent also?" he asked of Cesar ine. 
 
 "Yes," she said. 
 
 "1 am, then, one of the family at last I have the 
 right to concern myself with its affairs," he said, 
 with a peculiar expression. 
 
 Anselme left precipitately, so as not to show a joy 
 that would contrast too much with his master's 
 grief. Anselme was not precisely happy, on account 
 of the failure, but love is so mastering, so egoistic! 
 Cesarine herself felt in her heart an emotion that 
 was not in keeping with her bitter sadness. 
 
 "While we are at it, " said Pillerault, in Cesar- 
 ine's ear, "let us strike every blow." 
 
 Madame Birotteau let slip a sign of grief, and not 
 of assent. 
 
 "Nephew," said Pillerault, addressing Cesar, 
 "what do you think of doing?" 
 
 "Continuing business." 
 
 "That is not my advice," said Pillerault. 
 "Wind up and divide your assets among your cred- 
 itors. Never again reappear as a business man in 
 Paris. I have often supposed myself in a position 
 similar to yours — Ah! everything must be foreseen 
 in trade ! The merchant who does not think of insol- 
 vency is like a general who would count on never 
 24
 
 370 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 being beaten; he is only half a merchant — As for 
 me, I never would have continued. What! always 
 abashed in the presence of men to whom I have 
 done wrong, receive their distrustful looks and their 
 tacit reproaches? I think of the guillotine! — in an 
 instant all is ended. But to have a head that 
 springs up again and feels itself cut off every day, 
 is a punishment that I would try to evade. Many 
 people resume business as if nothing had happened 
 to them ! So much the better ; — they are stronger 
 than Claude- Joseph Pillerault If you do a cash 
 business, and you are bound to it, people say that 
 you know how to look out for a rainy day; if you 
 are without a sou, you can never raise yourself 
 again. Good evening! Give up your assets, then, 
 let your property be sold, and do something else." 
 
 "But what?" Cesar asked. 
 
 "Eh!" said Pillerault, "look for a situation. 
 Have you no influence? The Due and Duchesse 
 de Lenoncourt, Madame de Mortsauf, Monsieur de 
 Vandenesse! Write to them, see them. They will 
 place you in the king's household with about a 
 thousand crowns; your wife will get quite as much; 
 your daughter, perhaps, also. The crisis is not so 
 desperate. The three of you together will bring in 
 nearly ten thousand francs a year. In ten years you 
 could pay a hundred thousand francs, for you will 
 take nothing from what you earn : your two women 
 will have fifteen hundred francs at my house for ex- 
 penses, and as for you, we will see!" 
 
 Constance, and not Cesar, meditated on these
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 371 
 
 wise words. Pillerault directed his course towards 
 the Bourse, then in a temporary wooden building, 
 and which formed a round hall, to which entrance 
 was had from the Rue Feydeau. The perfumer's 
 failure, expected and hinted at, already known, in 
 fact, was the general talk in the higher circle of 
 trade, then constitutional. The Liberal dealers saw 
 in Birotteau's feast a bold manoeuvre against their 
 opinions. The Opposition folk wanted to have the 
 monopoly of love of country. Let the Royalists be 
 allowed to love the king, but to love the country 
 was the privilege of the Left: the people belonged 
 to it. It was wrong in the Government to rejoice, 
 through its organs, by reason of an event that the 
 Liberals wanted to turn to their own account exclu- 
 sively. The fall of a protege of the Chateau, of a 
 ministerialist, of an incorrigible royalist, who, on 
 the thirteenth Vendemiaire, insulted liberty by 
 fighting against the glorious French Revolution — this 
 fall excited the turmoil and applause of the Bourse. 
 Pillerault wanted to know, to study opinion. He 
 found, in one of the most animated groups, Du Til- 
 let, Gobenheim-Keller, Nucingen, old Guillaume 
 and his son-in-law, Joseph Lebas, Claparon, 
 Gigonnet, Mongenod, Camusot, Gobseck, Adolphe 
 Keller, Raima, Chiffreville, Matifat, Grindot and 
 Lourdois. 
 
 "Well, how prudent one ought to be!" said Go- 
 benheim to Du Tillet. "It was only by holding on by 
 a thread that my brothers-in-law did not grant a 
 credit to Birotteau. "
 
 372 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "As for me, I am in for ten thousand francs that he 
 asked of me a fortnight ago. I gave them to him on his 
 simple signature," said Du Tillet. "But he form- 
 erly obliged me; I will not regret losing that sum." 
 
 "He has done like all the rest, has your nephew," 
 said Lourdois to Pillerault; "he gave feasts! That 
 a knave should try to throw dust in people's eyes, 
 so as to inspire confidence, I understand; but for a 
 man who passed for the cream of honest folk to have 
 recourse to the tricks of that old charlatanism, to 
 which we always catch on!" 
 
 "Like blood-suckers," said Gobseck. 
 
 "Have confidence only in those who live in paltry 
 lodgings, like Claparon," said Gigonnet. 
 
 "Veil," said big Baron Nucingen to Du Tillet, 
 "you vanted to blay me a durn py zenting me 
 Piroddot. I to nod know vy, " he said, as he turned 
 towards Gobenheim, the manufacturer, "he hav 
 nod zent do dake vrom me vivdy douzand vrancs. 
 I voult haf kifen dem. " 
 
 "Oh! no, Baron," said Joseph Lebas. "You 
 must have known very well that the Bank had re- 
 fused his paper; you had it rejected by the discount 
 committee. The affair of that poor man, for whom 
 I still profess a high esteem, presents singular cir- 
 cumstances — " 
 
 Pillerault's hand clasped that of Joseph Lebas. 
 
 "It is impossible, indeed," said Mongenod, "to 
 explain what is happening unless we believe that 
 there were, concealed behind Gigonnet, bankers who 
 want to kill the Madeleine business."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 373 
 
 "There is happening to him what will happen to 
 those who go outside their specialty," said Clapa- 
 ron, interrupting Mongenod. "If he had himself 
 mounted his Cephalic Oil, instead of coming to en- 
 hance for us the value of land in Paris by rushing 
 into speculation, he would have lost his hundred 
 thousand francs with Roguin, but he would not have 
 failed. He is going to work under the name of 
 Popinot. " 
 
 "Keep your eye on Popinot," said Gigonnet. 
 
 Roguin, according to this group of merchants, 
 was the imfortimate Roguin, the perfumer was that 
 poor Birotteau. The one seemed excused by a 
 great passion, the other seemed more guilty because 
 of his pretensions. On leaving the Bourse, Gigon- 
 net passed by the Rue Perrin-Gasselin, before return- 
 ing to the Rue Grenetat, and went to Madame 
 Madou's, the dealer in dry fruits. 
 
 "My big mamma," he said to her, with his cruel 
 simplicity, "well, how goes our little trade .''" 
 
 "Smoothly," Madame Madou said, respectfully, as 
 she offered her only chair to the usurer with an 
 affectionate servility that she had had only for the 
 dear departed. 
 
 Mamma Madou, who floored a recalcitrant or too 
 free wagon driver, who was not afraid to take part 
 in the assault on the Tuileries on the tenth of Octo- 
 ber, who bantered her best customers, capable, in 
 fine, of speaking, without trembling, to the king in 
 the name of the Market ladies. Angel ique Madou 
 received Gigonnet with profound respect. Without
 
 374 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 strength in his presence, she trembled under his 
 sour look. Folk of the people will tremble for a long 
 time yet before the executioner, and Gigonnet was 
 the executioner of trade. In the Market, no power 
 is more respected than that of the man who keeps 
 money in circulation. The other human institu- 
 tions are nothing compared with it. Justice itself 
 is translated in the eyes of the Market by commis- 
 sary, the personage with whom it is associated. 
 But usury, seated behind its green cartons, usury 
 implored with fear in the heart, dries up pleasantry, 
 parches the throat, humbles the pride of look and 
 makes people respectful. 
 
 "Have you anything to ask of me?" she said. 
 
 "A nothing, a trifle: keep yourself in readi- 
 ness to meet the Birotteau notes; the poor man has 
 failed. Everything becomes demandable. I will send 
 you the account to-morrow morning." 
 
 Madame Madou's eyes were first concentrated like 
 those of a female cat, and then vomited flames. 
 
 "Ha! the beggar! the scoundrel. He came here 
 himself to tell me that he was deputy, to fly colors 
 for me! Matigot, it goes like that, trade does! No 
 more faith in mayors. The Government is deceiving 
 us. Just wait. I am going to go and make him pay 
 me, I-" 
 
 "Eh! in those matters, each pulls himself out as 
 he can, my dear child!" said Gigonnet, as he 
 raised his leg with that dry little movement like 
 to that of a cat trying to pass a place that is 
 damp, and to which it owes its name. "There
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 375 
 
 are big-wigs that think of withdrawing their pin 
 from the game." 
 
 "Good! good! I am going to withdraw my hazel- 
 nuts. Marie Jeanne! my stockings and my rab- 
 bit's-hair cashmere, and quick, or I will warm you 
 with a box on the ears." 
 
 "It's going to be hot in the upper end of the 
 street," Gigonnet said to himself, as he rubbed his 
 hands. "DuTilletwill be satisfied; there will be 
 scandal in the quarter. I do not know what that 
 poor devil of a perfumer has done to him ; as for me, 
 I pity him as a dog that breaks his paw. He is not 
 a man ; he has no strength." 
 
 Madame Madou rushed out, like an insurrection 
 in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, at seven o'clock in 
 the evening, to poor Birotteau's door, which she 
 opened with excessive violence, for the walk had 
 still further animated her spirits. 
 
 "Heap of vermin, I must have my money, I want 
 my money! You will give me my money, or I'm 
 going to carry off sachets, satin gewgaws, fans, in 
 fine, merchandise, for my two thousand francs! 
 Has anyone ever seen mayors stealing from those 
 they govern ! If you do not pay me, I will send him 
 to the galleys. I am going to the king's attorney. 
 The dread of justice will have its effect! Take 
 notice. I do not leave here without my money." 
 
 She made a show of wanting to take the glass 
 from a case in which were valuable articles. 
 
 "The Madou is carrying on," Celestin said to his 
 neighbor, in a low voice.
 
 376 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 The female dealer heard the word, for in the par- 
 oxysms of passion the organs are either obliterated 
 or perfected, according to constitutions, and she ap- 
 plied to Celestin's ear the most vigorous cuff that 
 was ever given in a perfumery shop. 
 
 "Learn to respect woman, my angel," she said, 
 "and not to smirch the name of those you are 
 robbing." 
 
 "Madame," said Madame Birotteau, as she came 
 out of the rear shop, where, perchance, was her hus- 
 band, whom Uncle Pillerault wanted to take away, 
 and who, in order to obey the law, drove humility 
 so far as to want to let himself be taken to prison ; 
 "Madame, for Heaven's sake, don't make a disturb- 
 ance among the passers-by." 
 
 "Eh! let them come in, " said the woman. "I will 
 tell 'em about the matter, a story to make them 
 laugh ! Yes, my merchandise and my crowns, gath- 
 ered up with the sweat of my brow, help to give 
 your balls. In fme, you go about clad like a 
 queen of France with the wool that you have shorn 
 from poor lambs like me! Jesus! It would burn 
 my shoulders, yes, mine, stolen property would! I 
 have only rabbit's-hair on my carcass, but it is 
 mine. Brigands of robbers, my money or—" 
 
 She grasped a pretty inlaid box in which were 
 valuable toilet articles. 
 
 "Leave that alone, Madame," said Cesar, as he 
 showed himself. "Nothing here belongs to me; 
 everything belongs to my creditors. I no longer 
 own but my own person, and, if you wish to take
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 377 
 
 possession of it, put me in prison. I give you my 
 word of honor — a tear sprang from his eyes — that 1 
 will wait for your constable, the sheriff's officer 
 and his attendants — " 
 
 The tone and gesture, in harmony with the action, 
 made Madame Madou's wrath fall. 
 
 "My money has been carried away by a notary, 
 and 1 am innocent of the disasters that 1 am caus- 
 ing," Cesar continued; "but you will be paid in 
 time, should I die in the effort and have to work as 
 a laborer in the Market, taking the position of 
 porter." 
 
 "Come, you are a brave man," said the Market 
 woman. "Pardon my words, Madame; but I must, 
 then, throw myself into the river, for Gigonnet is 
 going to push me, and 1 have only ten months' 
 paper with which to take up your damned notes." 
 
 "Come and see me to-morrow morning, " said Pil- 
 lerault, as he showed himself. "I will arrange your 
 affair for five per cent, with one of my friends." 
 
 "What! it's that good old man Pillerault. Eh! 
 but he is your uncle," she said to Constance. 
 "Come, you are honest folks. I will not lose any- 
 thing, will 1? — To-morrow, old Brutus," she said to 
 the former dealer in iron and copper ware. 
 
 Cesar wanted to insist on remaining amid his 
 ruins, saying that he could thus explain himself to 
 all his creditors. In spite of his niece's entreaties. 
 Uncle Pillerault encouraged Cesar, and made him 
 go up to his rooms. The shrewd old man ran to 
 Doctor Haudry's, explained Birotteau's condition to
 
 3/8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 him, got a prescription for a sleep-giving potion, 
 went to order it and returned to spend the evening 
 with his nephew. In concert with Cesarine, he 
 forced Cesar to drink like them. The narcotic put 
 the perfumer to sleep, and he reawoke, fourteen 
 hours later, in his Uncle Pillerault's room, in the 
 Rue des Bourdonnais, imprisoned by the old man, 
 who himself slept on a folding-bed in his salon. 
 When Constance heard the rumbling of the hack in 
 which her Uncle Pillerault was taking Cesar away, 
 her courage failed her. Our strength is often 
 stimulated by the necessity of supporting a being 
 weaker than ourselves. The poor woman wept on 
 finding herself alone in her own house with her 
 daughter, as she would have wept for Cesar dead. 
 
 "Mamma," said Cesarine, as she sat down on her 
 mother's knees and caressed her with those feline 
 graces that women use well only among themselves, 
 "you have told me that if I took my part bravely, 
 you would find strength against adversity. Do not 
 weep, then, my dear mother ; I am ready to enter 
 any shop, and I will no longer think of what we 
 have been. I will be, as you in your youth, a head 
 girl, and you will never hear a complaint or a 
 regret. I have a hope. Have you not heard Mon- 
 sieur Popinot.'"' 
 
 "The dear youth. He will not be my son-in- 
 law—" 
 
 "Oh! mamma — " 
 
 "He will really and truly be my son." 
 
 "Misfortune," said Cesarine, as she embraced her
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 379 
 
 mother, *'has that much of good in it that it tells us 
 how to know our true friends." 
 
 Cesarine succeeded in soothing the poor woman's 
 grief by playing towards her the part of a mother. 
 Next morning, Constance went to the Due de Lenon- 
 court's, one of the first gentlemen of the king's 
 chamber, and there left a letter in which she asked of 
 him an audience at a certain hour of the day. In the 
 meanwhile, she came to Monsieur de la Billardi^re's, 
 stated to him the plight in which the notary's flight 
 had put Cesar, entreated him to plead his cause 
 with the Due and to speak for her, being afraid that 
 she would explain herself badly. She wanted a 
 place for Birotteau. Birotteau would be the most 
 honest of cashiers, if there was any distinction to be 
 made in honesty. 
 
 "The king has just appointed the Comte de Fon- 
 taine to the general directorship in the management 
 of his household. There is no time to lose." 
 
 At two o'clock La Billardiere and Madame Cesar 
 ascended the great stairway of the hotel de Lenon- 
 court. Rue Saint-Dominique, and were introduced 
 to that one of his gentlemen whom the king pre- 
 ferred, if it be that King Louis XVllI. had any 
 preferences. The gracious reception accorded by 
 this great lord, who belonged to the small num- 
 ber of the real gentlemen whom the preceding cen- 
 tury had bequeathed to this one, gave hope to 
 Madame Cesar. The perfumer's wife showed her- 
 self great and simple in grief. Grief ennobles the 
 most commonplace persons, for it has its grandeur;
 
 380 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 and, to receive lustre from it, it suffices for it to be 
 genuine. Constance was an essentially true woman. 
 It was necessary to speak to the king at once. 
 
 In the midst of the conference, Monsieur de Van- 
 denesse was announced, and the Due exclaimed: 
 
 "There is your savior!" 
 
 Madame Birotteau was not unknown to this 
 young man, who had come to her house once or 
 twice to ask there for trifles, often as important as 
 great things. The Due explained La Billardiere's 
 intentions. On learning of the misfortune that had 
 overwhelmed the godson of the Marquise d'Uxelles, 
 Vandenesse went at once, along with La Billardiere, 
 to the Comte de Fontaine's, entreating Madame 
 Birotteau to wait for him. 
 
 The Comte de Fontaine was, like La Billardiere, 
 one of those fine provincial gentlemen, those almost 
 unknown heroes who made the fame of La Vendee. 
 Birotteau was not a stranger to him; he had form- 
 erly seen him at La Reme des Roses. The people 
 who had risked their all for the royal cause enjoyed 
 at that time privileges that the king kept secret, so 
 as not to irritate the Liberals. Monsieur de Fon- 
 taine, one of Louis XVlll. 's favorites, passed for 
 being entirely in his confidence. Not only did the 
 Comte positively promise a place, but he came to 
 the house of the Due de Lenoncourt, then in ser- 
 vice, to entreat him to get a moment's audience in 
 the afternoon and to ask for La Billardiere an audi- 
 ence with Monsieur, who was particularly fond of 
 this old Vendean diplomat.
 
 That very evening the Comte de Fontaine went 
 from the Tuileries to Madame Birotteau's, to tell her 
 that her husband would, after he had made settle- 
 ment, be officially appointed to a place at two thous- 
 and five hundred francs in the Sinking Fund office, 
 as all the places in the king's household were then 
 filled with supernumerary nobles, to whom they had 
 been pledged. 
 
 This success was only a part of Madame Birot- 
 teau's task. The poor woman went to the Rue 
 Saint-Denis, to the Chat qui pelole, to find Joseph 
 Lebas. During this journey she met, in a brilliant 
 equipage, Madame Roguin, who, no doubt, was mak- 
 ing purchases. Her eyes and those of the notary's 
 pretty wife met. The shame that the happy 
 woman could not repress as she saw the ruined 
 woman gave Constance courage. 
 
 "Never will 1 ride in a carriage with other peo- 
 ple's money," she said to herself. 
 
 Wellreceived by Joseph Lebas, she entreated 
 him to procure for her daughter a situation in a 
 respectable business house. Lebas promised noth- 
 ing; but, a week later, Cesarine had board, lodging 
 and a thousand crowns in the richest novelty house 
 in Paris, which was founding a new establishment 
 in the Quartier des Italiens. The cash and the over- 
 seeing of the shop were entrusted to the perfumer's 
 
 {381)
 
 382 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 daughter, who, put over the head girl, took the 
 place of the master and mistress of the house. 
 
 As for Madame Cesar, she went that very day to 
 Popinot's to ask him for the care in his house of 
 the cash, the correspondence and the housekeeping. 
 Popinot saw that his house was the only one in 
 which the perfumer's wife could find the respect 
 that was due to her and a position devoid of inferi- 
 ority. The noble youth gave her three thousand 
 francs a year, board, his own lodgings that he had 
 fitted up, and took for himself a clerk's garret. 
 Thus the pretty perfumeress, after having enjoyed 
 the luxuries of her tenement for a month, had to 
 dwell in that horrible room, looking out on the dark 
 and damp court, where Gaudissart, Anselme and 
 Finot had inaugurated the Cephalic Oil. 
 
 When Molineux, appointed receiver by the Tribu- 
 nal of Commerce, came to take possession of Cesar 
 Birotteau's assets, Constance, assisted by Celestin, 
 verified the inventory with him. Then the mother 
 and daughter left, on foot, in simple garb, and 
 went to their Uncle Pillerault's without looking 
 back, after having dwelt in that house the third 
 part of a life-time. They walked in silence towards 
 the Rue des Bourdonnais, where they dined with 
 Cesar for the first time since their separation. It 
 was a sad dinner. Each had had time to make his 
 or her own reflections, to measure the extent of 
 their obligations and to sound their courage. All 
 three were, as it were, sailors ready to struggle with 
 stormy weather, without deceiving themselves as to
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 383 
 
 the danger. Birotteau regained courage on learning 
 withi what solicitude great personages had arranged 
 an opportunity for him; but he wept when he 
 learned what was going to become of his daughter. 
 Then he extended his hand to his wife as he saw 
 the courage with which she began to work once 
 more. 
 
 Uncle Pillerault had his eyes moistened for the 
 last time in his life at the sight of the touching 
 picture of these three united beings mingled in an 
 embrace, in the midst of which Birotteau, the weak- 
 est of the three, the most broken down, raised his 
 hand as he said: 
 
 "Let us hope!" 
 
 "For economy's sake," said the uncle, "you will 
 lodge with me, keep my room and share my bread. 
 I have long been tired of being alone; you will 
 take the place of that poor boy whom I lost From 
 here you will have only a step to go, by the Rue de 
 rOratoire, to your office." 
 
 "God of Mercy," exclaimed Birotteau, "when 
 the storm is at its height a star guides me." 
 
 By being resigned, the unfortunate man consum- 
 mates his misfortune. Birotteau's fall was from that 
 time accomplished. He gave his consent to it; he 
 became strong again. 
 
 After having stopped payment, a dealer should no 
 longer concern himself about anything but finding 
 an oasis in France or abroad, and live there without 
 taking part in anything, like the child that he is: 
 the law declares him a minor and incapable of
 
 384 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 every legal act, both civil and civic. But such is 
 not the case. Before reappearing, he awaits a pass- 
 port which has never been refused by either a com- 
 missary-judge or a creditor, for, if he were found 
 without this exeat, he would be sent to prison; 
 while, armed with this safeguard, he walks like a 
 member of parliament, into the enemy's camp, not 
 out of curiosity, but to baffle the unfavorable intent 
 of the law in relation to insolvents. The effect of 
 every law that touches on private fortune is to give 
 a prodigious development to the knaveries of the 
 mind. The concern of insolvents, as of all those 
 whose interests are thwarted by any law whatever, 
 is to annul it in their own regard. The condition 
 of civil death, in which the insolvent remains, as it 
 were, in the chrysalis state, lasts about three 
 months, the time required by the formalities before 
 reaching the meeting at which is signed, between 
 creditor and debtor, a treaty of peace, a transaction 
 called the agreement. This word clearly indicates 
 that 'harmony reigns after the tempest stirred up 
 between violently opposing interests. 
 
 On examining the balance-sheet, the Tribunal of 
 Commerce immediately appoints a commissary- 
 judge, who watches over the interests of the bulk of 
 the unknown creditors, and has also to protect the 
 insolvent against vexatious doings on the part of 
 his irritated creditors: a double part that it would 
 be glorious to play if commissary-judges had the 
 time for it. This commissary-judge invests a 
 receiver with the right of handling funds, bills
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 385 
 
 collectible, and merchandise, of verifying the assets 
 carried on the balance-sheet; in fine, the clerk of 
 the court calls all the creditors together, and this is 
 done by the trumpet call of advertisements in the 
 newspapers. The creditors, whether genuine or not, 
 are bound to come and get together in order to name 
 provisional assignees, who take the place of the re- 
 ceiver, stand, as it were, in the insolvent's shoes, 
 become, by a fiction of the law, the insolvent him- 
 self, and may liquidate everything, sell everything, 
 pass upon everything, and, finally, cast the die 
 for the profit of the creditors, unless the insolvent 
 be opposed to it Most failures in Paris stop with 
 the provisional assignees, and this is why: 
 
 The appointment of one or more definite assignees 
 is one of the most anxious acts in which creditors, 
 excited by the spirit of revenge, laughed at, scouted, 
 bantered, taken in, duped, robbed and cheated, can 
 take part. Though in general, creditors are cheated, 
 robbed, duped, taken in, bantered, scouted and 
 laughed at, there does not exist in Paris any com- 
 mercial passion that lasts ninety days. In business, 
 commercial notes are the only ones made out, de- 
 manding prompt payment, for three months. In 
 ninety days, all the creditors, worn out with fatigue 
 by the marches and counter-marches required by a 
 failure, sleep with their excellent little wives. 
 This may enable foreigners to understand how defin- 
 itive in France is the provisory : out of a thousand 
 provisional assignees there are not five who become 
 definitive. The reason for this abjuring of the 
 
 25
 
 386 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 hates stirred up by failure will soon become clear. 
 But it is necessary to explain the drama of a failure 
 to people who have not the good luck to be mer- 
 chants, in order to make understood how it consti- 
 tutes at Paris one of the most monstrous of legal 
 pleasantries, and how Cesar's failure was going to 
 be a striking exception. 
 
 This pretty commercial drama has three distinct 
 acts: the act of the receiver, the act of the 
 assignees, the act of the agreement. Like all the- 
 atrical pieces, it presents a double spectacle: it has 
 its setting for the public, and its hidden machinery; 
 there is the representation seen from the pit and 
 the representation observed from behind the scenes. 
 Behind the scenes are the insolvent and his proctor, 
 the traders' lawyer, the assignees and the receiver, 
 and, finally, the commissary-judge. No one outside 
 of Paris knows, and no one in Paris but knows that 
 a judge in the Tribunal of Commerce is the strangest 
 magistrate that a community has allowed itself to 
 create. This judge may at any moment be in dread 
 of his own justice in regard to himself. Paris has 
 seen the president of its Tribunal of Commerce 
 forced to stop payment. Instead of being a former 
 merchant retired from business, and to whom this 
 magistracy would be the reward of a well-spent life, 
 this judge is a trader, overloaded with enormous 
 undertakings, at the head of an immense house. 
 
 The indispensable condition of the election of this 
 judge, bound to pass on the avalanches of commer- 
 cial trials that are incessantly rolling down in the
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 387 
 
 capital, is to have much trouble in conducting his 
 own affairs. This Tribunal of Commerce, instead of 
 having been instituted as a useful connecting lini< 
 by which the merchant would raise himself without 
 ridicule to the regions of the nobility, is made up of 
 actual merchants, who may suffer from their sen- 
 tences on finding their parties dissatisfied, as Birot- 
 teau found Du Tillet. 
 
 The commissary-judge is, then, necessarily, a 
 personage before whom much talking is done, who, 
 while listening, is thinking of his business, and re- 
 fers the public matter from himself to the assignees 
 and the proctor, except in a few strange and singu- 
 lar cases, in which thefts appear with curious cir- 
 cumstances, and make him say that either creditors 
 or the debtor are tricky folks. This personage, 
 placed in the drama like a royal bust in an audience 
 hall, sees himself in the morning, between five and 
 seven o'clock, in his lumber shed, if he is a dealer 
 in woods; in his shop if, as formerly was Birotteau, 
 he is a perfumer; or, in the evening, after dinner, 
 between the fruit and the cheese, always, more- 
 over, dreadfully in a hurry. Thus this personage 
 is generally mute. Let us do justice to the law; 
 legislation, made in haste, which rules the matter, 
 has tied the commissary-judge's hands, and in sev- 
 eral cases he sanctions frauds without being able to 
 prevent them, as you are going to see. 
 
 The receiver, instead of being the creditors' man, 
 may become the debtor's man. Each one hopes to 
 be able to increase his share by getting the insolvent
 
 388 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 to favor him, and the insolvent is always sup- 
 posed to have hidden treasure. The receiver may 
 act to the advantage of both sides, either by not 
 mixing up the insolvent's affairs, or by securing 
 something for influential folk: he runs with the 
 hare and hunts with the hounds. Often has a 
 shrewd receiver had judgment rendered by redeem- 
 ing the credits and relieving the merchant, who 
 then bounds up like an elastic ball. The receiver 
 turns towards the best furnished rack, whether it 
 be necessary to cover the strongest creditors and 
 expose the debtor, or to sacrifice the creditors to the 
 merchant's future. Thus the assignee's act is the 
 decisive act. This man, as well as the proctor, 
 plays to the best advantage in this piece, in which 
 they both accept their positions only when sure of 
 their fees. In an average of a thousand failures, 
 the receiver is nine hundred and fifty times the 
 insolvent's man. At the time when this history 
 took place, nearly always the proctors went to see 
 the commissary-judge and submitted to him the 
 name of a receiver to be appointed, their own man, 
 a man to whom the merchant's affairs were known, 
 and who knew how to reconcile the interests of the 
 whole with those of the honorable man who had 
 fallen into misfortune. For some years past shrewd 
 judges have had the receiver suggested who was 
 desired, in order not to appoint him, and have tried 
 to name one supposed to be honest. 
 
 During this act the creditors, whether spurious 
 or genuine, present themselves, to designate the
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 389 
 
 provisory assignees, who are, as has been said, defini- 
 tive. In this electoral assembly, those have the 
 right to vote to whom fifty sous are due, just as much 
 as have creditors to the amount of fifty thousand 
 francs; the votes are counted, not weighed. This 
 assembly, in which are found fictitious creditors in- 
 troduced by the insolvent, the only ones who never 
 fail to attend the election, propose as candidates the 
 creditors, from among whom the commissary-judge, 
 president without power, is bound to choose the 
 assignees. Thus the commissary-judge nearly 
 always takes, at the insolvent's suggestion, the 
 assignees whom it is convenient for him to have: 
 another abuse that makes this catastrophe one of 
 the most burlesque dramas that justice can protect. 
 The honorable man who has fallen into misfortune, 
 master of the ground, then legalizes the theft that 
 he had meditated. Generally, the small trade of 
 Paris is free from all blame. When a shopkeeper 
 reaches the stopping of payment, the poor honest 
 man has sold his wife's shawl, has pledged his sil- 
 verware, has shot off his last arrow and has suc- 
 cumbed empty handed, ruined, without money even 
 for the proctor, who cares very little for him. 
 
 The law wishes that the agreement, which restores 
 to the merchant a part of his debt and gives back 
 his business to him, be voted by a certain majority 
 of amounts and persons. This great work requires 
 skilful diplomacy directed amid the contrary inter- 
 ests that cross and butt against one another, by 
 the insolvent, his assignees and his proctor. The
 
 390 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 customary, the common procedure, consists in offer- 
 ing, to the portion of the creditors who form the 
 majority contemplated by the law, the instalments 
 to be paid by the debtor, besides the dividends 
 arranged at the agreement. For this gigantic fraud 
 there is no remedy: the thirty Tribunals of Com- 
 merce that have succeeded one another know it from 
 having practised it. Enlightened by long usage, 
 they came lately to decide to annul notes stamped 
 with fraud; and, as insolvents have an interest in 
 complaining of this extortion, the judges hope thus 
 to reform insolvency: creditors will encounter some 
 method still more villainous, which the judges will 
 frown down as judges, and of which they will take 
 advantage as merchants. 
 
 Another trick very much in use, to which we 
 owe the expression bona fide creditor, consists in 
 creating creditors, as Du Tillet had created a bank- 
 ing-house, and in introducing a certain number of 
 Claparons, under whose skin is concealed the insol- 
 vent, who, from that time, diminishes by so much 
 the real creditors' dividends, and thus creates for 
 himself resources for the future, while at the same 
 time managing the quantity of votes and sums 
 necessary to obtain his agreement. The fictitious 
 creditors are like false electors introduced into the 
 electoral college. What can the bona fide creditor do 
 against the fictitious creditors ? Get rid of them by 
 attacking them! Good. To drive out the intruder 
 the bona fide creditor has to give up his business, 
 entrust his case to a proctor, which proctor, making
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 39I 
 
 hardly anything out of it, prefers to direct failures 
 and makes short work of this petty case. To dis- 
 lodge the sham creditor, it is necessary to enter into 
 the labyrinth of operations, to go back to remote 
 periods, to fumble through books, to obtain, by 
 authority of justice, the documents bearing on those 
 of the false creditor, to discover the unlikelihood of 
 the fiction, to demonstrate it to the judges of the 
 court, to plead, to go, to come, to warm many cold 
 hearts; then to carry on that Don Quixote trade in 
 the case of each unlawful and mock creditor, who, if 
 he comes to be convicted of mockery, retires salut- 
 ing the judges and saying: "Excuse me, you are 
 deceived. My claim is bona fide." And all without 
 prejudicing the rights of the insolvent, who can 
 bring the Don Quixote into the royal court. During 
 this time the Don Quixote's affairs are going badly, 
 and he is likely to stop payment. 
 
 Moral : The debtor names his assignees, veri- 
 fies his credits and arranges his settlement himself. 
 
 According to these data, who does not see through 
 the intrigues, Sganarelle turns, Frontin inventions, 
 Mascarille lies and Scapin empty bags developed by 
 these two systems .? There is not a failure in which 
 enough are not begotten to furnish as much matter 
 as is contained in the fourteen volumes of Clarissa 
 Harlowe to an author who would wish to describe 
 them. A single example will suffice. The illus- 
 trious Gobseck, the master of the Palmas, the 
 Gigonnets, the Werbrusts, the Kellers and the Nu- 
 cingens, having found himself in a failure into
 
 392 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 which he proposed rudely to drag a merchant who 
 knew how to trick him, received in notes, to fall due 
 after the settlement, the sum which, added to that of 
 the dividends, formed the sum total of his credit. 
 Gobseck determined on the acceptance of a settle- 
 ment that gave seventy-five per cent rebate to the 
 insolvent See the creditors played to the advant- 
 age of Gobseck! But as the merchant had signed 
 the unlawful notes of his firm in insolvency, and 
 he could apply to these notes the deduction of sev- 
 enty-five per cent, Gobseck, the great Gobseck, 
 received scarcely fifty per cent. He always saluted 
 his debtor with ironical respect. 
 
 All the operations in which an insolvent had been 
 engaged ten days before his failure being liable to 
 be overhauled, some prudent men are careful to 
 close up certain matters with a certain number of 
 creditors whose interest it is, like that of the insol- 
 vent, to reach a prompt agreement. Very shrewd 
 creditors go in search of very simple or very busy 
 creditors, make the failure look as ugly as possible 
 to them, and purchase their credits from them at half 
 of what they will be worth at the time of settle- 
 ment, and then recover their money from the divi- 
 dend on their credits, and the half, the third, or the 
 fourth gained on the credits they have purchased. 
 
 Failure is the more or less hermetical closing of a 
 house in which pillage has left some bags of money. 
 Happy is the merchant who crawls out through the 
 window, through the roof, through the cellar, 
 through any hole, who takes a bag and increases
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 393 
 
 his share! In that rout, in which is heard the Be- 
 resina cry of "save himself who can!" everything 
 is legal and illegal, true and false, honest and dis- 
 honest. A man is admired if he saves himself. To 
 save one's self is to get possession of some securities 
 to the detriment of the other creditors. France has 
 resounded with debate on a great failure that broke 
 out in a city in which a royal court sat, and in 
 which the magistrates, having current accounts 
 with the insolvents, had put on such heavy rubber 
 cloaks that the mantle of justice was thereby get- 
 ting threadbare. Because of legitimate suspicion, it 
 was found necessary to refer the judgment on the 
 failure to another court. There was neither commis- 
 sary-judge, nor receiver, nor sovereign court possible 
 in the place in which the bankruptcy had occurred. 
 This frightful commercial mess is so well appre- 
 ciated at Paris that, unless one be interested in the 
 failure to the amount of an important sum, every 
 merchant, however far from busy he may be, accepts 
 the failure as a disaster without remedy, puts 
 down his share to the account of profit and loss, 
 and is not guilty of the stupidity of wasting his 
 time; he continues to work at his business. As for 
 the small trader, harassed by his bills coming in at 
 the end of the month, taken up with following the 
 chariot of his fortune, a lawsuit that terrifies by 
 reason of its duration, and the costs it entails, 
 frightens him; he gives up seeing his way clear 
 through it, imitates the large merchant, and droops 
 his head as he realizes his loss.
 
 394 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Large merchants no longer stop payment. They 
 settle amicably: the creditors give a receipt on tak- 
 ing what is offered to them. Then dishonor is 
 avoided, as well as judiciary delays, proctors' fees, 
 and depreciation of merchandise. Each one be- 
 lieves that failure will give less than liquidation. 
 There are more liquidations than failures in Paris. 
 The act of the assignees is intended to prove that 
 every assignee is incorruptible, that there never is 
 the least collusion between them and the insolvent. 
 The creditors who have been assignees, know that 
 every assignee is a preferred creditor. It listens, 
 it believes what it wishes, and reaches the day of 
 settlement after three months spent in verifying 
 the proofs of the liabilities and the proofs of the 
 assets. The provisory assignees then make to the 
 meeting a short report, the general purport of which 
 is as follows: 
 
 "Gentlemen, a million was due to all of us together. 
 We have chopped up our man like an old foundered 
 frigate. Nails, iron, wood, and copper have pro- 
 duced three hundred thousand francs. We have, 
 then, thirty per cent of our claims. Lucky in hav- 
 ing found this sum when our debtor might have left 
 us only a hundred thousand francs, we declare him 
 an Aristides. We vote him premiums for encourage- 
 ment, we award him crowns, and propose to leave 
 him his assets, giving him ten or twelve years to 
 pay us fifty per cent that he is good enough to 
 promise us. This is the agreement. Pass it on to 
 the office. Sign it!"
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 395 
 
 On hearing this discourse, the happy merchants 
 congratulate and hug themselves. After the ap- 
 proval of this settlement, the insolvent again 
 becomes a merchant as before; his assets are 
 returned to him. He begins his business over again, 
 without being deprived of the right of failing in the 
 promised dividends, a long-delayed failure that is 
 often to be seen, like a child born of a mother nine 
 months after her daughter's marriage. 
 
 If the settlement does not succeed, the creditors 
 then name definitive assignees, take exorbitant 
 measures by forming themselves into an association 
 for the purpose of making the most of their debtor's 
 property and trade, seizing everything that he may 
 have, his inheritance from his father, his mother, 
 his aunt, etc. This severe measure is carried out 
 by means of a contract of union. 
 
 There are, then, two kinds of failure: the failure 
 of the merchant who wishes to get another hold on 
 business, and the failure of the merchant who, hav- 
 ing fallen into the water, is satisfied with going to 
 the bottom of the river. Pillerault was well aware 
 of this difference. It was, according to him, as 
 well as according to Ragon, as difficult to come out 
 clean from the first as to come out rich from the 
 second. After having advised general surrender, 
 he went to speak to the most upright proctor of the 
 place to get him to act in settling the failure and 
 putting the assets at the disposal of the creditors. 
 The law means that the creditors, as long as this 
 drama lasts, support the insolvent and his family.
 
 396 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 Pillerault gave the commissary-judge to understand 
 that he would provide for the wants of his niece and 
 nephew. 
 
 Everything had been arranged by Du Tillet to 
 make the failure a constant agony to his old em- 
 ployer. This is how: Time is so valuable in 
 Paris that generally, in failures, of two assignees, 
 only one is engaged in the affair. The other is a 
 matter of form : he approves, like the second notary 
 in notarial acts. The acting assignee depends rather 
 frequently on the proctor. By this means, in Paris, 
 failures of the first kind are attended to in such a 
 summary way that, in the delays desired by the 
 law, everything is rushed, tied up, served, arranged! 
 In a hundred days the commissary-judge may utter 
 the atrocious expression of a minister: "Order 
 reigns at Warsaw." Du Tillet desired the perfum- 
 er's commercial death. And so the names of the 
 assignees, appointed by Du Tillet's influence, were 
 significant to Pillerault. Monsieur Bidault, called 
 Gigonnet, the chief creditor, was not to take any 
 part in it at all. Molineux, the crotchety little old 
 man, who was losing nothing, was to concern him- 
 self with everything. Du Tillet had thrown to this 
 little jackal that noble commercial corpse to torture 
 while devouring it. After the meeting at which 
 the creditors named the assignees, little Molineux 
 returned to his lodgings, honored, he said, with the 
 suffrages of his fellow-citizens; happy to rule Birot- 
 teau as a child having an insect to tease. The 
 landlord, astride on the law, entreated Du Tillet to
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 397 
 
 aid him with his lights, and he bought a copy of the 
 Commercial Code. Fortunately, Joseph Lebas, 
 warned by Pillerault, had first got the president to 
 select a wise and well-disposed commissary-judge. 
 Gobenheim-Keller, whom Du Tillet had hoped to 
 have, found himself replaced by Monsieur Camusot, 
 substitute judge, the rich Liberal silk-merchant, 
 owner of the house in which Pillerault lived, and 
 said to be an honorable man. 
 
 One of the most horrible scenes in Cesar's life 
 was his forced conference with little Molineux, that 
 being whom he regarded as so much of a nullity, 
 and who, by a fiction of the law, had become Cesar 
 Birotteau. He had to go, accompanied by his uncle, 
 to the Cour Batave, to ascend the six flights and 
 again enter that old man's very mean tenement, the 
 home of his tutor, his quasi-judge, the representative 
 of the mass of his creditors. 
 
 "What ails you?" asked Pillerault of Cesar, as he 
 heard an exclamation. 
 
 "Ah! uncle, you do not know what a man that 
 Molineux is!" 
 
 "For the last fifteen years I have seen him from 
 time to time at the Cafe David, where he plays 
 dominoes in the evening: and so I have come with 
 you." 
 
 Monsieur Molineux was exceedingly polite to Pil- 
 lerault and disdainfully condescending to his insol- 
 vent. The little old man had studied his conduct, 
 thought out the shades of his bearing, and prepared 
 his ideas.
 
 398 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "What information do you want?" Pillerault 
 asked. " There is no dispute as regards the claims. " 
 
 "Oh!" said little Molineux, "the claims are all 
 right, everything is verified. The creditors are 
 bona fide. But the law, sir, the law ! The insol- 
 vent's expenses are out of proportion with his for- 
 tune. — It is plain that the ball—" 
 
 "Which you attended," said Pillerault, interrupt- 
 ing him. 
 
 "—Cost nearly sixty thousand francs, or that this 
 sum was expended on that occasion, the insolvent's 
 assets did not then reach more than a hundred and 
 some thousand francs. — There is reason for handing 
 the insolvent over to the extraordinary judge, on the 
 charge of simple bankruptcy." 
 
 "Is that your opinion?" Pillerault asked, as he 
 saw the dejection into which this statement had 
 cast Birotteau. 
 
 "1 make a distinction, sir; this man Birotteau 
 was a municipal officer — " 
 
 "You have not brought us here, apparently, to 
 explain to us that we are going to be dragged into the 
 police court?" said Pillerault. "The whole Cafe 
 David would laugh this evening at your conduct." 
 
 The opinion of the Cafe David seemed to irritate 
 the little old man very much, and he looked at Pil- 
 lerault as if scared. The receiver counted on seeing 
 Birotteau alone; he had resolved to pose as sover- 
 eign arbiter, as a Jupiter. He counted on frighten- 
 ing Birotteau by the thundering requisition prepared, 
 on brandishing the police-court axe over his head,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 399 
 
 on playing on his fears, his terrors; then on calm- 
 ing down while letting himself seem merciful, and 
 on making his victim an ever-grateful soul. Instead 
 of his insect, he met the old commercial sphinx. 
 
 "Sir," he said to him, "it is not a laughing 
 matter." 
 
 "Excuse me," Pillerault replied. "You are con- 
 sulting rather too much with Monsieur Claparon ; 
 you are abandoning the interests of the others in 
 order to get a decision that will make you privileged 
 in regard to your claims. Now, 1 can intervene as 
 a creditor. The commissary-judge is there." 
 
 "Sir," said Molineux, "I am incorruptible." 
 
 "I know it," said Pillerault; "you have, as the 
 saying is, withdrawn your stake from the game. 
 You are shrewd. You have acted in that as with 
 your tenant — " 
 
 "Oh! sir," said the receiver, again becoming a 
 landlord, as the cat metamorphosed into a woman 
 runs after a mouse, "my affair of the Rue Montor- 
 gueil has not been passed upon. There has hap- 
 pened what is called an incident. The tenant is 
 chief tenant. This intriguer now pretends that, 
 having paid a year in advance, and not having more 
 than a year to — " 
 
 Here Pillerault cast at Cesar a glance that meant 
 for him to pay the closest attention. 
 
 " — And the year being paid, he can strip the 
 place. A fresh lawsuit. Indeed, I ought to keep 
 my securities until full payment is made; he may 
 owe me for repairs."
 
 400 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "But," said Pillerault, "the law gives you the 
 furniture as security for rent only." 
 
 "And collaterals!" said Molineux, attacked in 
 his centre. "The article of the Code is interpreted 
 by the decisions rendered on the subject. An 
 amendment, however, should be made by the Legis- 
 lature. I am at this moment working out a memoir 
 to His Highness the Custodian of the Seals on this 
 gap in legislation. It would be worthy of the 
 Government to concern itself with the interests of 
 property. Everything is in that for the state; we 
 are the backbone of taxation." 
 
 "You are quite capable of enlightening the Gov- 
 ernment," said Pillerault, "but in what respect can 
 we enlighten you, yes, we, in relation to our 
 affairs?" 
 
 "I want to know," said Molineux with authorita- 
 tive emphasis, "whether Monsieur Birotteau has 
 received money from Monsieur Popinot. " 
 
 "No, sir," said Birotteau. 
 
 A discussion followed on Birotteau's interest in 
 the Popinot house, the result of which was that 
 Popinot had the right to be paid in full for his 
 advances, without becoming a party to the insolv- 
 ency, for the half of the establishment's expenses 
 due by Birotteau. Receiver Molineux, managed by 
 Pillerault, came back gradually to mild forms that 
 proved how much weight he attached to the opinion 
 of the regular customers at the Cafe David. He at 
 last gave consolation to Birotteau, and asked him, 
 as well as Pillerault, to share his modest dinner. If
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 401 
 
 the ex-perfumer had come alone, he would perhaps 
 have irritated Molineux, and the matter would have 
 been aggravated. On this occasion, as well as on 
 some others, old Pillerault was a guardian angel. 
 
 It is a horrible punishment that the commercial 
 law imposes on insolvents; they must appear in 
 person, between their provisory assignees and their 
 commissary-judge, at the meeting at which their 
 creditors decide their fate. To a man who puts 
 himself above everything, as to the merchant who 
 is seeking revenge, this sad ceremony is by no 
 means to be dreaded ; but to a man like Cesar Birot- 
 teau this scene is a punishment that has no analogy 
 except in the last day of one condemned to death. 
 Pillerault did everything in his power to make this 
 dreadful day endurable to his nephew. 
 
 This was Molineux's procedure, agreed to by the 
 insolvent. The suit regarding the land situated in 
 the Rue du Faubourg du Temple was won in the 
 royal court. The assignees decided to sell the prop- 
 erty, and Cesar made no opposition to this. Du 
 Tillet, informed of the Government's intentions con- 
 cerning a canal that was to join Saint-Denis with 
 the upper Seine, by passing through the Faubourg 
 du Temple, bought Birotteau's land for the sum of 
 seventy thousand francs. Cesar's interest in the 
 matter of the Madeleine land was abandoned to Mon- 
 sieur Claparon, on condition that he, on his part, 
 would give up all claim in relation to the half due by 
 Birotteau on account of the expenses of registering 
 and passing on the contract, the charge of paying 
 26
 
 402 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 the price of the land by handling, in the failure, the 
 dividend that fell to the sellers. The perfumer's 
 interest in the house of Popinot and Company was 
 sold to the said Popinot for the sum of forty-eight 
 thousand francs. The business of La Reine des 
 Roses was bought by C^lestin Crevel for fifty-seven 
 thousand francs, with right to the lease, merchan- 
 dise, furniture, the Sultana Paste and Carminative 
 Water patents, and the renting for twelve years of 
 the factory, the utensils of which were also sold to 
 him. The assets realized a hundred and eighty-five 
 thousand francs, to which the assignees added 
 seventy thousand francs resulting from Birotteau's 
 rights in the unfortunate Roguin's settlement Thus 
 the total reached two hundred and fifty-five thousand 
 francs. The liabilities amounted to four hundred and 
 forty thousand, so that there was more than fifty per 
 cent. Failure is like a chemical operation, which the 
 shrewd merchant tries to get out of fat. Birotteau, 
 entirely distilled in this retort, produced a result 
 that made Du Tillet furious. Du Tillet believed in 
 a dishonest insolvency; he saw an honest one. Far 
 from being pleased with his gain, for he was going 
 to have the Madeleine land without opening his 
 purse, he would have wished the poor retailer dis- 
 honored, discredited, vilified. The creditors, at the 
 general meeting, were no doubt going to carry the 
 perfumer in triumph. In proportion as Birotteau's 
 courage returned to him, his uncle, like a wise 
 physician, graduated the doses for him by initiating 
 him into the operations of the insolvency. These
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 403 
 
 violent measures were so many blows. A merchant 
 does not learn without grief of the depreciation of 
 the things that represent to him so much money, so 
 much care. The news that his uncle gave him pet- 
 rified him. 
 
 "Fifty-seven thousand francs for La Reine des 
 Roses! but the shop cost ten thousand francs; but 
 the apartments cost forty thousand francs; but the 
 fitting up of the factory, the utensils, the moulds, 
 the cauldrons, cost thirty thousand francs ; but, allow- 
 ing a rebate of fifty per cent, there is ten thousand 
 francs' worth in my shop; but the paste and the 
 water are a property worth a farm !" 
 
 These Jeremiads from poor ruined Cesar scarcely 
 frightened Pillerault The old dealer listened to 
 them as a horse receives a drenching at a gate, but 
 he was alarmed at the perfumer's stolid silence 
 at the mention of the meeting. To one who under- 
 stands the vanities and weaknesses that in each 
 social sphere attack man, was it not a horrible 
 punishment for this poor man to return as an in- 
 solvent to the commercial court-house in which he 
 had sat as a judge ? to go to receive affronts where 
 he had gone so often to be thanked for the services 
 that he had rendered, he, Birotteau, whose inflexi- 
 ble opinions in regard to insolvents were known to 
 the whole trade of Paris; he who had said: "One 
 is still an honest man when he stops payment, but 
 one leaves a meeting of creditors as a cheat.?" His 
 uncle studied the hours favorable for familiarizing 
 him with the idea of appearing before his assembled
 
 404 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 creditors, as the law required. This obligation was 
 killing Birotteau. His mute resignation made a 
 deep impression on Pillerault, who often, in the 
 night, heard him through the partition exclaiming: 
 "Never! never! I shall be dead before that." 
 Pillerault, that man so strong by the simplicity 
 of his life, understood the weakness. He resolved 
 to spare Birotteau the anguish to which he might 
 succumb in the terrible scene of his appearance 
 before the creditors, an inevitable scene ! The law 
 on this point is strict, formal, exacting. The mer- 
 chant who refuses to appear may, from this single 
 fact, be brought into the police court on the charge 
 of simple bankruptcy. But if the law compels the 
 insolvent to present himself, it has not the power 
 to make the creditor come there. A meeting of 
 creditors is an important ceremony only in certain 
 cases: for example, if there be occasion to dispos- 
 sess a cheat and to make a deed of agreement, if 
 there be disagreement between favored and injured 
 creditors, if the settlement is ultra-dishonest and 
 the insolvent needs a doubtful majority. But in 
 the case of a failure in which everything is realized 
 on, as well as in the case of a failure in which the 
 cheat has arranged everything, the meeting is a for- 
 mality. Pillerault went to entreat each creditor, 
 one after the other, to sign a power of attorney for 
 his proctor. Each creditor, Du Tillet excepted, was 
 sincerely sorry for Cesar after having broken him 
 down. Each one knew how the perfumer had con- 
 ducted himself, how correct his books were, how
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 405 
 
 straight were his affairs. All the creditors were 
 satisfied at not seeing among them any sham 
 creditor. Molineux, at first receiver, then assignee, 
 had found in Cesar's house all that the poor man 
 possessed, even the engraving of Hero and Leander 
 given by Popinot, his personal jewelry, his pin, 
 his gold buckles, his two watches, that an honest 
 man would have carried off without thinking that 
 he lacked in honesty. Constance had left her 
 modest jewel-case. This touching obedience to 
 the law struck the trade keenly. Birotteau's ene- 
 mies represented these circumstances as signs of 
 stupidity; but sensible folk saw them in their true 
 light, as a magnificent excess of probity. Two 
 months later, opinion at the Bourse changed. The 
 most indifferent people acknowledged that this 
 failure was one of the rarest curiosities of trade that 
 had been seen on Change. And so the creditors, 
 knowing that they were going to realize about sixty 
 per cent, did all that Pillerault asked of them. 
 Proctors are very few in number; it happened, then, 
 that several creditors had the same proxy. Piller- 
 ault succeeded in reducing this formidable meeting 
 to three proctors, himself, Ragon, the two assignees 
 and the commissary-judge. 
 
 On the morning of that solemn day, Pillerault said 
 to his nephew: 
 
 "Cesar, you can go without fear to your meeting 
 to-day; you will find no one there." 
 
 Monsieur Ragon wanted to accompany his debtor. 
 When the former owner of La Reine des Roses made
 
 406 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 his dry little voice heard, his ex-successor grew 
 pale; but the good little old man opened his arms 
 to him, Birotteau rushed into them as a child into 
 its father's arms, and both perfumers bedewed each 
 other with their tears. The insolvent regained 
 courage on seeing so much indulgence, and went in 
 a hack with his uncle. Precisely at half-past ten 
 o'clock all three arrived at the Saint-Merri cloister, 
 where at that time the Tribunal of Commerce sat. 
 At that hour there was no one in the insolvency 
 hall. The hour and the day had been chosen by 
 agreement with the assignees and the commissary- 
 judge. The proctors were there on account of their 
 clients: thus there was nothing to intimidate Cesar 
 Birotteau. Yet the poor man did not go into Mon- 
 sieur Camusot's court-room, which by chance had 
 been his own, without feeling a deep emotion, and 
 he shuddered at the thought of entering the insolv- 
 ency hall. 
 
 "It is cold," said Monsieur Camusot to Birot- 
 teau. "These gentlemen will not be sorry for re- 
 maining here instead of going to freeze us in the 
 hall — he avoided saying insolvents — . Be seated, 
 gentlemen." 
 
 Each took a seat, and the judge gave his arm-chair 
 to Birotteau, who was confused. The proctors and 
 the assignees signed. 
 
 "By reason of the abandonment of your assets," 
 said Camusot to Birotteau, "your creditors unani- 
 mously release you from further liability; your 
 settlement is couched in terms that may assuage
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 407 
 
 your grief; your proctor will have it approved 
 promptly: so you are free. All the judges of the 
 court, dear Monsieur Birotteau," said Camusot as 
 he took hold of both his hands, "are moved at your 
 position, without being surprised at your courage, 
 and there is no one who has not done justice to your 
 probity. In misfortune you have been worthy of 
 what you were here. Twenty years have passed 
 since I have been in trade, and this is the second 
 time that I have seen a merchant who had fallen, 
 winning once more the public esteem." 
 
 Birotteau took the judge's hands and pressed 
 them, with tears in his eyes. Camusot asked him 
 what he counted on doing. Birotteau replied that he 
 was going to work to pay his creditors in full. 
 
 "If in carrying out this noble task, you need a few 
 thousand francs, you can always get them from me, " 
 said Camusot. "1 would give them with great pleas- 
 ure to be witness of a fact rather rare in Paris." 
 
 Pillerault, Ragon and Birotteau retired. 
 
 "Well, it was not like having to drink the sea 
 dry," said Pillerault to him at the court-room door. 
 
 "I am grateful for your services, uncle," said 
 the poor man, tenderly. 
 
 "You are restored; we are but two steps from 
 Rue des Cinq-Diamants; come and see my 
 nephew," Ragon said to him. 
 
 "That was a cruel sensation through which Birot- 
 teau had to pass on seeing Constance sitting in a 
 little office in the low and dark entresol situated 
 over the shop, where dominated a sign-board rising
 
 408 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 one-third the height of her window, intercepting the 
 light, and on which was written: A. POPINOT. 
 
 "There is one of Alexander's lieutenants," Birot- 
 teau said, with the pleasantness of misfortune, as he 
 pointed to the sign. 
 
 That forced pleasantness, in which was unaffect- 
 edly shown the inextinguishable feeling of the 
 superiority that Birotteau thought he possessed, 
 produced, as it were, a shiver in Ragon, in spite of 
 his seventy years. Cesar saw his wife bringing 
 down to Popinot some letters to sign, and he could 
 not restrain his tears nor keep his countenance from 
 turning pale. 
 
 "Good-day, my friend," she said to him, with a 
 laughing air. 
 
 "1 need not ask you if you are happy here ?" said 
 Cesar, as he looked at Popinot. 
 
 "As with my son," she replied in a tender tone 
 that struck the ex-merchant 
 
 Birotteau took hold of Popinot, and embraced him, 
 saying: 
 
 "I have just lost forever the right of calling him 
 my son." 
 
 "Let us hope," said Popinot. " Your oil is going, 
 thanks to my efforts in the newspapers, to those of 
 Gaudissart, who has done the whole of France, who 
 has inundated it with placards and prospectuses and 
 who is now having printed at Strasbourg prospec- 
 tuses in German, and is going to descend like an 
 invasion on Germany. We have succeeded in 
 placing three thousand gross."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 409 
 
 "Three thousand gross," said Cesar. 
 
 "And I have bought, in the Faubourg Saint-Mar- 
 ceau, a tract of land, and at a not high figure, either, 
 where a factory is being built. I will hold on to 
 that of the Faubourg du Temple." 
 
 "Wife," said Birotteau, in Constance's ear, "with 
 a little assistance we might get out of it." 
 
 From that fatal day Cesar, wife and daughter 
 understood one another. The poor employe 
 wanted to attain a result if not impossible, at least 
 gigantic: the entire payment of his debts! These 
 three beings, united by the bonds of ferocious 
 honesty, became penurious and refused themselves 
 everything: a farthing seemed to them sacred. In 
 a studied way, Cesarine had for her trade the de- 
 votedness of a young girl. She spent the nights 
 devising how to increase the prosperity of the house, 
 invented designs in stuffs, and displayed an innate 
 commercial genius. Her employers were obliged to 
 moderate her ardor for work, they rewarded her with 
 presents; but she refused the adornments and jewels 
 that her employers offered to her. Money ! was her 
 cry. Each month she brought her wages, her little 
 savings, to her Uncle Pillerault. Cesar did the 
 same, and so did Madame Birotteau. All three 
 knowing themselves not to be shrewd, each of them 
 wished to place on him the responsibility of watch- 
 ing the money market, so they gave over to Pillerault 
 the supreme direction of the investing of their sav- 
 ings. Having become a man of business once more, 
 the uncle followed the money market in the Bourse
 
 4IO CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 reports. It was learned later on that he had been 
 aided in this work by Jules Desmarets and Joseph 
 Lebas, both of them eager to tell him of safe invest- 
 ments. 
 
 The former perfumer, who lived with his uncle, 
 did not dare to question him on the use made of the 
 amounts acquired by his labors and by those of his 
 daughter and wife. He went, with bowed head, 
 through the streets, concealing from the gaze of all 
 his downcast, disturbed and stolid countenance. 
 Cesar reproached himself for wearing fine clothes. 
 
 "At least," he said, with an angelic look at his 
 uncle, "I do not eat my creditors' bread. Your 
 bread seems to me sweet, though given from the 
 pity that I inspire you with, knowing that, owing 
 to this holy charity, I steal nothing from my 
 salary." 
 
 The merchants who met the employe did not find 
 in him any trace of the perfumer. The indifferent 
 conceived a great idea of men who had failed at the 
 sight of this man on whose countenance the blackest 
 sorrow had set the seal of its mourning, who showed 
 himself overthrown by what had never made its 
 appearance in his house, thought! He is not lost 
 who wills. Thoughtless people, without con- 
 science, to whom everything is indifferent, can 
 never present the spectacle of a disaster. Religion 
 alone impresses a special seal on fallen beings : they 
 believe in a future, in a Providence; there is in 
 them a certain effulgence that marks them, an ap- 
 pearance of holy resignation mingled with hope that
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 41 1 
 
 causes a sort of tenderness; they know all that they 
 have lost as an exiled angel weeping at the gate of 
 Heaven. Insolvents cannot present themselves at 
 the Bourse. Cesar, driven from the domain of prob- 
 ity, was an angel sighing tor pardon.
 
 For fourteen months, full of the religious thoughts 
 with which his fall had inspired him, Birotteau re- 
 fused every pleasure. Though sure of the friend- 
 ship of the Ragons, it was impossible to prevail 
 upon him to go to dine with them, or with the 
 Lebases, or with the Matifats, or with the Protezes 
 or with the Chiffrevilles, or even with Monsieur 
 Vauquelin, all of whom showed their eagerness to 
 honor in Cesar a superior virtue. Cesar preferred 
 to be alone in his room to meeting the look of a 
 creditor. The most cordial advances from his 
 friends reminded him bitterly of his position. Con- 
 stance and Cesarine did not, then, go anywhere. 
 On Sundays and holidays, the only days when they 
 were free, these two women came, at the hour for 
 mass, to take Cesar, and kept him company at 
 Pillerault's after having performed their religious 
 duties. Pillerault invited the Abbe Loraux, whose 
 words supported Cesar in his life of trial, and they 
 then remained as in family life. The old iron and 
 copper-ware merchant was made up of too honest a 
 fibre of probity to disapprove of Cesar's sense of 
 delicacy. And so he had thought of increasing the 
 number of persons among whom the insolvent could 
 show his blanched face and look a man straight in 
 the eye. 
 
 In the month of May, 1821, this family, in the 
 
 (413)
 
 414 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 grasp of adversity, was rewarded for its efforts by 
 the first feast that the arbiter of its destinies pre- 
 pared for it The last Sunday of this month was 
 the anniversary of the consent given by Constance 
 to her marriage with Cesar. Pillerault had rented, 
 along with the Ragons, a small country house at 
 Sceaux, and the former iron and copper-ware dealer 
 wanted to have a joyous house-warming. 
 
 "Cesar," said Pillerault to his nephew on Satur- 
 day evening, "to-morrow we are going to the coun- 
 try, and you will come along." 
 
 Cesar, who wrote a superb hand, spent the even- 
 ing in copying for Derville and other lawyers. 
 Now, on Sunday, authorized by the pastor's per- 
 mission, he worked like a negro. 
 
 "No," he answered, "Monsieur Derville is wait- 
 ing for a guardian's account." 
 
 "Your wife and daughter clearly deserve a 
 reward. You will find only our friends: the Abbe 
 Loraux, the Ragons, Popinot and his uncle. Be- 
 sides, 1 want it." 
 
 Cesar and his wife, caught in the whirlwind of 
 business, had never returned to Sceaux, though from 
 time to time both of them wished to go back there, 
 so as to see the tree under which the chief clerk of 
 La Reine des Roses had almost fainted. During 
 the journey that Cesar made in a hack with his 
 wife and daughter, and Popinot, who drove them, 
 Constance cast on her husband knowing looks with- 
 out being able to bring a smile to his lips. She 
 whispered some words in his ear, and his only reply
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 415 
 
 was to shake his head. The sweet expressions of 
 that tenderness, unchangeable but forced, instead of 
 lighting up Cesar's countenance, made it more 
 sombre and brought some repressed tears to his 
 eyes. The poor man had made this journey 
 twenty years before, rich, young, full of hope, in 
 love with a young girl as pretty as now was 
 Cesarine; he then dreamt of happiness, and to-day 
 saw in the bottom of the coach his noble child pale 
 from sitting up at night, his brave wife no longer 
 having but the beauty of cities over which have 
 passed the lava streams of a volcano. Love alone 
 had remained! Cesar's attitude stifled joy in his 
 daughter's heart and in that of Anselme, who repre- 
 sented to him the charming scene of that day of old. 
 
 "Be happy, my children, you have the right to 
 be," that poor father said to them in a heart-rending 
 tone. "You can love each other without any after- 
 thought," he added. 
 
 Birotteau, while speaking these last words, had 
 taken hold of his wife's hands and kissed them with 
 a holy and admiring affection that touched Con- 
 stance's heart more than the liveliest pleasantry. 
 When they reached the house, at which they were 
 awaited by Pillerault, the Ragons, the Abbe Loraux 
 and Judge Popinot, these five select personages had 
 a bearing, looks and words that put Cesar at his 
 ease, for all were moved at seeing that man ever on 
 the morrow of his misfortune. 
 
 "Go and take a walk in the Bois d'Aulnay," 
 said Uncle Pillerault, as he placed Cesar's hand in
 
 4l6 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 that of Constance, "go there with Anselme and 
 Cesarine; you will return at four o'clock." 
 
 "Poor creatures, we shall make them uneasy," 
 said Madame Ragon, moved to tenderness by her 
 debtor's genuine sorrow; "he will be quite jocund 
 in a short time." 
 
 "It is repentance without having sinned," said 
 the Abbe Loraux. 
 
 "He can become great only through misfortune," 
 said the judge. 
 
 To forget is the great secret of strong and creative 
 lives; to forget after the manner of nature, which 
 recognizes no past, which begins at every moment 
 the mysteries of its indefatigable productiveness. 
 Weak lives, as was that of Birotteau, live in sor- 
 rows, instead of changing them into apothegms of 
 experience; they become saturated with them, and 
 use themselves up by looking back everyday at the 
 misfortunes that have taken place. When the two 
 couples had reached the path that leads to the 
 Bois d'Aulnay, placed like a crown on one of the 
 prettiest hillsides in the neighborhood of Paris, and 
 the Vallee-aux-Loups was seen in all its attractive- 
 ness, the fineness of the weather, the beauty of the 
 landscape, the first verdure and the sweet memories 
 of the most charming day of his youth distended the 
 sad chords of Cesar's soul : he pressed his wife's 
 arm against his palpitating heart, his eye was no 
 longer glassy, the light of pleasure shone in it. 
 
 "At last," said Constance to her husband, "I see 
 you again, my poor Cesar ! It seems to me that we are
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 417 
 
 in good enough shape to allow ourselves a little 
 pleasure from time to time." 
 
 "And can I do so?" said the poor man. "Ah! 
 Constance, your affection is the only possession 
 I have left. Yes, 1 have lost even the confidence 
 that I had in myself. I have no more strength; my 
 only desire is to live long enough for me to die 
 square with the world. You, dear wife, you who 
 are my wisdom and my prudence, you who saw 
 clearly, you who are irreproachable, you can be 
 pleasant; I only, of the three of us, am guilty. 
 Eighteen months ago, in the midst of that fatal 
 feast, I saw my Constance, the only woman whom 
 I have loved, more beautiful perhaps than was the 
 young person with whom I traversed this path 
 twenty years ago, as our children now traverse it! 
 — In twenty months I have scarred that beauty — 
 my pride, my allowable and lawful pride. 1 love 
 you the more the better I know you — Oh! dear,'^ 
 he said, as he gave to this word an emphasis that 
 touched his wife's heart, "I would rather hear you 
 complain, instead of seeing you caress my grief." 
 
 "I did not believe," she said, "that after twenty 
 years of housekeeping a woman's love for her hus- 
 band could increase." 
 
 This expression made Cesar for a moment forget 
 all his misfortunes, for he had so much heart that 
 this word was a fortune. He therefore almost joy- 
 ously approached tlieir tree, which perchance had 
 not been blown down. The husband and wife sat 
 down there, looking at Anselme and Cesarine, who 
 27
 
 4l8 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 were turning round the same lawn without perceiv- 
 ing it, thinking perhaps that they were going 
 straight ahead. 
 
 "Mademoiselle," said Anselme, "do you think 
 me so heartless and greedy as to have taken advan- 
 tage of the gaining of your father's share in the 
 Cephalic Oil} I am lovingly keeping his half for 
 him, for him am I taking care of it. 1 am dis- 
 counting with his interests; if there are doubtful 
 notes, I take them on my responsibility. We can 
 be each other's only on the morrow of your father's 
 being himself again, and I am hastening that day 
 with all the strength that love gives." 
 
 The lover had been very careful to tell this secret 
 to his mother-in-law. With the most innocent 
 lovers, there is always the desire to seem great in 
 their mistresses' eyes. 
 
 "And will it be soon.!"' she asked. 
 
 "Soon," said Popinot. 
 
 This answer was given in so penetrating a tone 
 that the chaste and pure Cesarine extended her 
 brow to dear Anselme, who imprinted an eager and 
 respectful kiss upon it, so much nobility was there 
 in this youth's action. 
 
 "Papa, everything is going on well," she said to 
 Cdsar, in a delicate way. "Be agreeable, chat, give 
 up your sad look." 
 
 When this family, so united, returned to Pille- 
 rault's house, Cesar, though far from observant, 
 noticed in the Ragons a change of manner that be- 
 spoke some event. The welcome extended by
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 419 
 
 Madame Ragon was particularly gracious ; her look 
 and tone told Cesar: "We have been paid." 
 
 At dessert the Sceaux notary presented himself, 
 Uncle Pillerault made him sit down and looked at 
 Birotteau, who began to suspect a surprise, without 
 being able to imagine its extent. 
 
 "Nephew, for the past eighteen months your 
 wife's, your daughter's, and your own savings have 
 amounted to twenty thousand francs. I received 
 thirty thousand francs as the dividend on my 
 claim; we have, then, fifty thousand francs, to give 
 to your creditors. Monsieur Ragon has received 
 thirty thousand francs as his dividend, the Sceaux 
 notary brings you a receipt for payment in full, 
 including interest, made to your friends. The bal- 
 ance of the amount is at Crottat's, for Lourdois, old 
 woman Madou, the mason, the carpenter, and your 
 more needy creditors. As for next year, we will 
 see. With time and patience one does wonders." 
 
 Birotteau's joy is not to be described; he threw 
 himself weeping into his uncle's arms. 
 
 "Let him wear his Cross to-day," said Ragon to 
 the Abbe Loraux. 
 
 The confessor fastened the red ribbon in the but- 
 tonhole of the employe, who looked at himself in 
 the parTor mirror a score of times during the even- 
 ing, showing a pleasure at which people who think 
 themselves superior would have laughed, and which 
 comes naturally to those good folk of the middle 
 class. Next day Birotteau betook himself to Madame 
 Madou's.
 
 420 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Oh! it's you, good man," she said. "I didn't 
 know you, you have turned so gray. Yet you peo- 
 ple don't have to toil : you have places. But I 
 make myself as sick as a poodle dog turning a 
 crank, who deserves baptism." 
 
 "But, madame— " 
 
 "Eh! I mean no offence," she said; "you have a 
 receipt." 
 
 "1 have come to tell you that I will pay you at 
 Master Crottat's, the notary, to-day, the balance 
 of your claim and interest — " 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 "Be at his place at half-past eleven o'clock — " 
 
 "That is honor, with good measure and the four 
 per cent," she said, as she ingenuously admired 
 Birotteau. "See here, my dear sir, I am doing a 
 good business with your little red-headed chap; he 
 is a gentleman, and he gives me a big profit without 
 dickering as to the price, so as to indemnify me; 
 well, 1 will give you a receipt; keep your money, 
 my poor old man! The Madou may flare up, she 
 is a scold, but she has that," she said, as she patted 
 the most voluminous cushions of live flesh that 
 have been known in the Market. 
 
 "Never," said Birotteau; " the law is strict, I 
 want to pay you in full." 
 
 "Then 1 won't do much praying," she said. 
 "And to-morrow, in the Market, I'll trumpet your 
 honor. Ah! it is a rare interlude!" 
 
 The good man went through the same scene at 
 the house-painter's, Crottat's father-in-law, but
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 42 1 
 
 with variations. It was raining. Cesar left his 
 umbrella standing in a corner of the door-way. 
 The enriched painter, seeing the water making its 
 way into the fine room in which he was breakfast- 
 ing with his wife, was not in the most amiable 
 mood. 
 
 "Well, what do you want, my poor old Birot- 
 teau?" he said in a harsh tone that many people 
 assume in speaking to beggars who will not be put 
 off. 
 
 "Sir, your son-in-law has not told you, then? — " 
 
 "What?" Lourdois interrupted, impatiently, 
 thinking of some request. 
 
 " — To be at his place this morning at half-past 
 eleven o'clock, to give me a receipt for the full pay- 
 ment of your claim ?" 
 
 "Ah! that's another matter. — Be seated, then, 
 there. Monsieur Birotteau, and eat a bite with 
 us—" 
 
 "Give us the pleasure of sharing our breakfast," 
 said Madame Lourdois. 
 
 "It's all right, then ?" the fat Lourdois asked him. 
 
 "No, sir, I have had to be satisfied with a meagre 
 breakfast every day at my office in order to get some 
 money together; but, in time, I hope to repair the 
 injury done to my neighbor." 
 
 "Truly," said the painter, as he gulped down a 
 tart loaded with p^te de foies gras, "you are a man 
 of honor." 
 
 "And what is Madame Birotteau doing?" Madame 
 Lourdois asked.
 
 422 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "She is book-keeper and cashier at Monsieur 
 Anselme Popinot's. " 
 
 "The poor creatures!" said Madame Lourdois, in 
 a low voice, to her husband. 
 
 "If you need me, my dear Monsieur Birotteau, 
 come and see me," said Lourdois. "i might be able 
 to assist you.—" 
 
 "I need you at eleven o'clock, sir," said Birot- 
 teau, who then retired. 
 
 This first result gave courage to the insolvent, 
 without bringing back rest to him; the desire of 
 regaining honor troubled his life out of all measure; 
 he entirely lost the freshness that had adorned his 
 countenance, his eyes were sunken and his cheeks 
 hollow. When old acquaintances met Cesar in 
 the morning at eight o'clock, going to Rue de 
 I'Oratoire, or returning at four in the afternoon, 
 wrapped in the overcoat that he had at the time of 
 his fall, and which he took care of as a poor sub- 
 lieutenant takes care of his uniform, his hair entirely 
 white, pale, timid, some attracted his attention in 
 spite of himself, for his eye was alert; he crept 
 along the walls after the manner of thieves. 
 
 "Your conduct is known, my friend," someone 
 would say to him. "Everyone regrets the severity 
 with which you are treating yourself, as well as 
 your daughter and your wife." 
 
 "Take a little more time," said others; "the 
 money plague is not mortal." 
 
 "No, but rather the plague of the soul," poor, 
 weakened Cesar replied one day to Matifat.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 423 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1823 the Saint-Mar- 
 tin Canal was decided on. The land situated in the 
 Faubourg du Temple reached fabulous prices. The 
 project cut Du Tillet's property, formerly that of 
 Birotteau, clean through the middle. The company 
 to which the canal was awarded agreed to an exor- 
 bitant price if the banker could deliver his land at 
 a specified time. The lease given by Cesar to Pop- 
 inot was in the way. The banker came to Rue 
 des Cinq-Diamants to see the druggist. If Popinot 
 was indifferent to Du Tillet, yet Cesarine's affi- 
 anced husband bore an instinctive hatred against 
 that man. He was ignorant of the theft and the 
 infamous combinations concocted by the lucky 
 banker, but a voice within him cried out: "That man 
 is an unpunished robber." Popinot would not have 
 the slightest dealings with him, his presence was 
 odious to him. At that moment, especially, he saw 
 Du Tillet growing rich on the spoils of his former 
 employer, for the Madeleine land was beginning to 
 rise to a price that presaged the exorbitant value 
 to which it attained in 1827. And so, when the 
 banker had explained the nature of his visit, Popinot 
 looked at him with concentrated indignation. 
 
 "1 do not want to refuse to give up my lease to 
 you, but 1 must have sixty thousand francs for it, 
 and not a single farthing less." 
 
 "Sixty thousand francs!" Du Tillet exclaimed, 
 as he made a feint of withdrawing. 
 
 "My lease has fifteen years yet to run. I will 
 spend three thousand francs more a year to get
 
 424 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 another factory. So sixty thousand francs, or we 
 will say nothing more about it," said Popinot, as 
 he went back into the shop, whither Du Tillet 
 followed him. 
 
 The discussion became heated. Birotteau's name 
 was mentioned ; Madame Cesar came down and saw 
 Du Tillet for the first time since the famous ball. 
 
 The banker could not repress a feeling of surprise 
 on seeing the change that had taken place in his old 
 mistress, and his eyes drooped, frightened as he 
 was at his work. 
 
 "The gentleman," said Popinot to Madame 
 Cesar, "is making of j^'our land three hundred 
 thousand francs, and he refuses us sixty thousand 
 indemnity for our lease — " 
 
 "Three thousand francs income," said Du Tillet, 
 emphatically. 
 
 "Three thousand francs! — " Madame Cesar 
 repeated, in a simple and penetrating tone. 
 
 Du Tillet turned pale; Popinot looked at Madame 
 Birotteau. There was a moment's deep silence that 
 made this scene still more inexplicable to Anselme. 
 
 "Sign for me your release, which 1 have had pre- 
 pared by Crottat," said Du Tillet, as he drew a 
 stamped paper from his side pocket. "I am going to 
 give you a draft on the Bank for sixty thousand 
 francs." 
 
 Popinot looked at Madame Cesar without dissem- 
 bling his profound astonishment; bethought he was 
 dreaming. While Du Tillet was making out his 
 draft on a high desk table, Constance disappeared
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 425 
 
 and went back to the entresol. The druggist and 
 the banker exchanged their papers. Uu Tillet left, 
 giving Popinot a cold salute. 
 
 "At last, in a few months," said Popinot, who 
 looked after Du Tillet as he went along the Rue des 
 Lombards where his cab had stopped, "thanks to 
 this singular affair, I will have my Cesarine. My 
 dear little wife will no longer spend her life's-blood 
 in working. What! a look from Madame Cesar suf- 
 ficed ! What is there between her and this brigand ? 
 What has just taken place is rather extraordinary." 
 
 Popinot sent the draft to the Bank to have it 
 cashed and went up to speak to Madame Birotteau; 
 but as he did not fmd her at the cashier's desk, she 
 was no doubt in her room. Anselmeand Constance 
 lived as live son-in-law and mother-in-law, when 
 son-in-law and mother-in-law agree; he accordingly 
 went into Madame Cesar's room with the natural 
 eagerness of a lover who is attaining his happiness. 
 The young merchant was very much surprised at 
 finding his future mother-in-law, whom he reached 
 by a cat-like bound, reading a letter from Du Tillet, 
 for Anselme recognized the handwriting of Birot- 
 teau's former chief clerk. A lighted candle, the 
 black and moving phantoms of letters burned on the 
 hearthstone made Popinot shudder, and he, favored 
 with a piercing glance, had seen, without wanting 
 to do so, this phrase at the beginning of the letter 
 that his mother-in-law was holding: " / adore you! 
 you know it, angel of my life, and why — " 
 
 "What influence, then, have you over Du Tillet
 
 426 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 to make him agree to such an affair?" he said, as 
 he laughed with that convulsive laughter that the 
 suppression of an evil suspicion causes. 
 
 "Let us not speak of that," she said, while giving 
 evidence of being greatly disturbed. 
 
 "Yes," Popinot replied, quite stunned, "let us 
 speak of the ending of your sufferings." 
 
 Anselme wheeled around on his heels and went 
 to drum with his fingers on the window panes, as 
 he looked into the court. 
 
 "Well," he said to himself, "though she may 
 have loved Du Tillet, why should 1 not conduct my- 
 self as an honest man?" 
 
 "What ails you, my boy?" said the poor 
 woman. 
 
 "The account of the net profits on the Cephalic Oil 
 reaches two hundred and forty-two thousand francs, 
 the half is a hundred and twenty-one, ' ' Popinot said, 
 brusquely. "If I deduct from that sum the forty- 
 eight thousand francs given to Monsieur Birotteau, 
 there remain seventy-three thousand, which, added 
 to the sixty thousand francs from the surrender 
 of the lease, gives you a hundred and thirty-three 
 thousand francs." 
 
 Madame Cesar listened in anxious happiness that 
 made her palpitate so violently that Popinot heard 
 the heart-beats. 
 
 "Well, 1 always considered Monsieur Birotteau as 
 my partner," he continued; "we can dispose of that 
 sum to reimburse his creditors. By adding it to 
 that of the twenty-eight thousand francs of your
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 427 
 
 savings invested by your uncle Pillerault, we have 
 a hundred and sixty-one thousand francs. Our 
 uncle will not refuse us a receipt for his twenty-five 
 thousand francs. No human power can prevent me 
 from lending to my father-in-law, on account of 
 the profits for next year, the sum necessary to 
 complete the amounts due to his creditors. — And he 
 — shall be — made all right again." 
 
 "Made all right again," exclaimed Madame Cesar, 
 as she bent her knee on her chair. 
 
 She joined her hands while reciting a prayer, 
 after having let the letter drop. 
 
 "Dear Anselme !" she said, when she had blessed 
 herself, "dear boy!" 
 
 She clasped his head, kissed him on the forehead, 
 pressed him to her heart, and did a thousand simple 
 things. 
 
 "Cesarine may well be yours! my daughter will 
 then be very happy. She will leave that house in 
 which she is killing herself." 
 
 "From love," said Popinot. 
 
 "Yes," the mother replied, smiling. 
 
 "Listen to a little secret," said Popinot, as he 
 looked at the fatal letter with the corner of his eye. 
 "I obliged Celestin so as to enable him to get pos- 
 session of your business, but 1 put a condition on 
 my favor. Your rooms are just as you left them. 
 I had an idea, but I did not believe that chance 
 would be so favorable to us. Celestin is bound to 
 sublet to you your old apartments, in which he has 
 not set foot, and all the furniture of which will be
 
 428 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 yours. I have reserved to myself the third floor 
 to live in it with Cesarine, who will never leave 
 you. After my marriage I will come to spend the 
 days here, from eight in the morning until six in 
 the evening. To make a new fortune for you I will 
 buy in Monsieur Cesar's interest for a hundred 
 thousand francs, and you will thus have, with his 
 emolument, ten thousand francs income. Won't 
 you be happy?" 
 
 "Tell me nothing more, Anselme, or I'll become 
 silly." 
 
 Madame Cesar's angelic attitude and the purity 
 of her eyes, as well as the innocence of her fine 
 brow, so splendidly belied the thousand ideas that 
 revolved in the lover's brain that he wanted to put 
 an end to his monstrous thought. A fault was 
 irreconcilable with the life and ideas of Pillerault's 
 niece. 
 
 "My dear adored mother," said Anselme, "in 
 spite of me, a horrible suspicion has just entered my 
 mind, if you want to see me happy, you will 
 destroy it at this very instant." 
 
 Popinot had reached out his hand for the letter 
 and had taken hold of it. 
 
 "Without wishing it, " he continued, frightened at 
 the terror that was pictured on Constance's coun- 
 tenance, "1 read the first words of this letter written 
 by Du Tillet. These words agree so singularly 
 with the effect that you have just produced in 
 determining that man's ready agreement to my 
 extravagant demand that any man would explain it
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 429 
 
 as the devil explains it in spite of myself. Your 
 look, three words sufficed — " 
 
 "Do not finish," said Madame Cesar, as she took 
 hold of the letter again and burned it before An- 
 selme's eyes. "My boy, I am very cruelly pun- 
 ished for a very small offence. Know all, then, 
 Anselme. I do not want the suspicion inspired by 
 the mother to injure the daughter, and, moreover, 
 I can speak without having to blush: I told my hus- 
 band what I am going to acknowledge to you. Du 
 Tillet wanted to tamper with my virtue. My hus- 
 band was at once notified; Du Tillet must be dis- 
 missed. The day on which my husband was to 
 discharge him, Du Tillet took three thousand francs 
 from us!" 
 
 "I suspected it," said Popinot, expressing all his 
 hatred in his tone. 
 
 "Anselme, your future, your happiness, demands 
 this confidence; but it must die in your heart, as it 
 was dead in mine and in Cesar's. You must remem- 
 ber my husband's grumbling on the occasion of an 
 error in the cash. Monsieur Birotteau, to avoid a 
 lawsuit and not to ruin that man, no doubt put back 
 into the drawer three thousand francs, the price of 
 that cashmere shawl that I did not get for three 
 years afterwards. There is my exclamation ex- 
 plained. Alas! my dear boy, I will acknowledge 
 my childish behavior to you. Du Tillet had 
 written to me three love letters, which pictured him 
 so well," she said, as she sighed and drooped her 
 eyes, "that I had kept them — as a curiosity. I
 
 430 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 have never read them more than once. But at last it 
 became imprudent to keep them. On again seeing 
 Du Tillet, I thought of them. I came up to my room 
 to burn them, and I was looking at the last when 
 you came in. — That is all, my friend." 
 
 Anselme knelt down on one knee and kissed 
 Madame Cesar's hand with an admirable expression 
 that made the tears come to both their eyes. The 
 mother-in-law raised up her son-in-law, stretched 
 out her arms towards him and clasped him to her 
 heart. 
 
 That day was to be a day of joy for Cesar. The 
 king's private secretary. Monsieur de Vandenesse, 
 came to the office to speak to him. They went out 
 together through the small court of the Sinking 
 Fund office. 
 
 "Monsieur Birotteau, " said the Vicomte de Van- 
 denesse, "your efforts to pay your creditors have by 
 chance become known to the king. His Majesty, 
 touched by conduct so rare, and knowing that, out 
 of humility, you do not wear the badge of the Legion 
 of Honor, has sent me to order you to put it on 
 again. Then, wishing to aid you in meeting your 
 obligations, he has charged me with giving you this 
 sum, taken from his private purse, regretting that 
 he could not make it larger. This must remain a 
 profound secret. His Majesty regards the official 
 publication of his good works to be anything but 
 royal," said the private secretary, as he put six 
 thousand francs into the hand of the employe, who 
 during these remarks felt inexpressible sensations.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 43 1 
 
 Birotteau could utter only incoherent words, 
 which he stammered, and Vandenesse smilingly 
 bade him good-morning. The feeling that animated 
 poor Cesar is so rare in Paris that his life had grad- 
 ually excited admiration. Joseph Lebas, Judge 
 Popinot, Camusot, the Abbe Loraux, Ragon, the 
 head of the large house in which Cesarine was em- 
 ployed, Lourdois, and Monsieur de la Billardiere 
 had spoken of it. Opinion, already changed in his 
 regard, carried him to the clouds. 
 
 "There goes an honorable man!" This expres- 
 sion had already resounded several times in Cesar's 
 ear when he was passing in the street, and pro- 
 duced in him the emotion experienced by an author 
 on hearing it said: There he goes! This good 
 fame was assassinating Du Tillet. When Cesar 
 had the bank-notes sent by the sovereign, his first 
 thought was to use them in paying his former clerk. 
 The good man went along the Rue de la Chaussee- 
 d'Antin, so that, as the banker was returning to 
 his house from his rounds he ran across his old em- 
 ployer on the stairway. 
 
 "Well, my poor Birotteau!" he said, in a wheed- 
 ling way. 
 
 "Poor?" proudly exclaimed the debtor. "I am 
 quite rich. I will lay my head on my pillow this 
 evening with the satisfaction of knowing that I 
 have paid you." 
 
 These words, full of probity, were a speedy torture 
 to Du Tillet. 
 
 In spite of the general esteem, he did not esteem
 
 432 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 himself; an irrepressible voice cried out to him: 
 "That man is sublime!" 
 
 "Pay me! What business are you doing, then?" 
 
 Certain that Du Tillet was not going to repeat his 
 confidence, the former perfumer said : 
 
 "I will never resume business, sir. No human 
 power could have foreseen what has happened to 
 me. Who knows that 1 might not be the victim of 
 another Roguin ? But my conduct was represented 
 to the king, his heart deigned to have compassion 
 on my efforts, and he has encouraged them by 
 sending to me on the spot a rather large sum 
 which — " 
 
 "Do you want a receipt?" said Du Tillet, inter- 
 rupting him; "do you pay?" — 
 
 "In full, and even the interest; and so I am go- 
 ing to ask you to come a couple of steps from here, 
 to Monsieur Crottat's. " 
 
 "Before a notary!" 
 
 "But, sir," said Cesar, "1 am not prevented from 
 thinking of rehabilitation, and authenticated deeds 
 are, then, unobjectionable — ?" 
 
 "Come," said Du Tillet, who went out with Bir- 
 otteau, "let us go ; it is only a step. But whence had 
 you so much money come to you?" he continued. 
 
 "1 do not take it," said Cesar. "1 earn it with 
 the sweat of my brow." 
 
 "You owe an enormous sum to the Claparon 
 house," 
 
 "Alas! yes, that is my biggest debt. I think, in- 
 deed, that I will die in the attempt." ^
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 433 
 
 "You will never be able to pay it," said Du Til- 
 let, harshly. 
 
 "He is right," thought Birotteau. 
 
 The poor man, on returning home, passed through 
 the Rue Saint-Honore, absent-mindedly, for he 
 always took a roundabout course, so as not to see 
 either his shop or the windows of his tenement. 
 For the first time since his fall, he again saw that 
 house in which eighteen years of happiness had 
 been wiped out by the anguish of three months. 
 
 "1 had, indeed, thought of ending my days there," 
 he said to himself. 
 
 And he hurried his steps, for he had observed the 
 new sign: 
 
 CELESTIN CREVEL 
 
 SUCCESSOR TO CESAR BIROTTEAU. 
 
 "My sight is dim. — Isn't that Cesarine?" he ex- 
 claimed, as he remembered having seen a blond 
 head at the window. 
 
 He indeed saw his daughter, his wife and Popinot. 
 The lovers knew that Birotteau never passed in 
 front of his old house; and, not being able to 
 imagine what was happening to him, they had come 
 to make some arrangements regarding the feast that 
 they were thinking of giving Cesar. This strange 
 apparition so keenly astonished Birotteau that he 
 stood spell-bound. 
 
 "There is Monsieur Birotteau looking at his old 
 house," said Monsieur Molineux to the dealer oppo- 
 site La Reme des Roses. 
 28
 
 434 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Poor man," said the perfumer's old neighbor, 
 "he gave one of the finest of balls there. — There 
 were two hundred carriages." 
 
 "I was at it. He failed three months afterwards," 
 said Molineux. "I was assignee." 
 
 Birotteau hurried off, his limbs trembling under 
 him, and ran to his Uncle Pillerault's. 
 
 Pillerault, informed of what was going on in the 
 Rue des Cinq-Diamants, thought that his nephew 
 would have difficulty in bearing the shock of so 
 great a joy as that caused by his rehabilitation, for 
 he was a daily witness to the moral vicissitudes of 
 that poor man, always confronted by his inflexible 
 doctrines relative to insolvents, and all of whose 
 strength was in requisition at every moment. 
 Honor was to Cesar a death that might have its 
 Easter-day. That hope made his grief incessantly 
 active. Pillerault undertook to prepare his nephew 
 to receive the good news. When Birotteau entered 
 his uncle's house he found him thinking of the 
 means of attaining this end. And so the joy with 
 which the employe related the evidence of interest 
 that the king had given seemed of good augury to 
 Pillerault, and the astonishment at having seen 
 Cesarine at La Reine des Roses was an excellent 
 preparation for the subject. 
 
 "Well, Cesar," said Pillerault, "do you know 
 how that comes to you ? From Popinot's impatience 
 to marry Cesarine. He will no longer, and should 
 not, on account of your exaggerated probity, allow 
 his youth to pass in eating dry bread to the savor
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 435 
 
 of a good dinner. Popinot wants to give you the 
 money necessary for the full payment of your 
 debts." 
 
 "He is buying his wife," said Birotteau. 
 
 "isn't it honorable to put one's father-in-law in 
 good shape?" 
 
 "But there is room for debate. Moreover, — " 
 
 "Moreover," said the uncle, feigning anger, 
 "you may have the right to sacrifice yourself, but 
 you should not sacrifice your daughter." 
 
 A rather heated discussion followed, which Pille- 
 rault designedly made exciting. 
 
 "Well! if Popinot lent you nothing," Pillerault 
 exclaimed, "if he had considered you as his partner, 
 if he had regarded the price given to your creditors 
 for his share in the oil as an advance of profits, so 
 as not to rob you — " 
 
 "I would have the appearance of having, in con- 
 cert with him, deceived my creditors." 
 
 Pillerault feigned to let himself be beaten by this 
 reason. He was well enough acquainted with the 
 human heart to I<now that, during the night, the 
 worthy man would quarrel with himself on this 
 point; and that internal discussion accustomed him 
 to the idea of his rehabilitation. 
 
 "But why," he said, at dinner, "were my wife 
 and daughter in my old apartments?" 
 
 "Anselme wants to rent them in order to live 
 there with Cesarine. Your wife is on his side. 
 Without saying anything to you about it, they 
 have gone and had the bans published, so as to
 
 436 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 compel you to consent. Popinot says that he will 
 have less merit in marrying Cesarine after you are 
 made all right. You take the king's six thousand 
 francs, and you do not want to accept anything from 
 your relatives! As for me, I can very well give 
 you a receipt for what is coming to me. Do you 
 refuse me?" 
 
 "No," said Cesar, "but that would not prevent 
 me from saving up in order to pay you, in spite of 
 the receipt." 
 
 "That's all subtlety," said Pillerault, "and in 
 matters of honesty I ought to be believed. What a 
 stupid thing you said a moment ago! Shall you 
 have deceived your creditors when you will have 
 paid them all ?" 
 
 At that moment Cesar was examining Pillerault, 
 and Pillerault was moved at seeing, after three years, 
 an unrestrained smile for the first time animating 
 the saddened features of his nephew. 
 
 "True," he said, "they would be paid — but it is 
 selling my daughter !" 
 
 "And 1 want to be bought," exclaimed Cesarine, 
 as she made her appearance along with Popinot. 
 
 The two lovers had heard these last words as on 
 tiptoe they entered the ante-chamber of their uncle's 
 little quarters, and Madame Birotteau followed them. 
 All three had hurried in a carriage to the creditors 
 that remained to be paid, to get them to assemble in 
 the evening at Alexandre Crottat's, where the 
 receipts were being prepared. The logical power of 
 Popinot, the lover, triumphed over Cesar's scruples,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 437 
 
 though the latter persisted in calling himself a 
 debtor, pretending that he was defrauding the law 
 by an innovation. But he let the researches of his 
 conscience yield to an exclamation from Popinot: 
 
 "You want to kill your daughter, then?" 
 
 "Kill my daughter?" said Cesar, stunned. 
 
 "Well," said Popinot, "1 have the right, among 
 the living, to make you a present of the sum that, 
 conscientiously, 1 think to be yours in my business. 
 Would you refuse me?" 
 
 "iNo," said Cesar. 
 
 "Well, let us go to Alexandre Crottat's this even- 
 ing, so that we will not have to go back over that 
 business; we will arrange there at the same time 
 about our marriage-contract." 
 
 A petition for rehabilitation and all the documents 
 supporting it were presented, by Derville's care, to 
 the attorney-general of the royal court of Paris. 
 
 During the month that the formalities and publi- 
 cations of the bans for Cesarine's marriage to An- 
 selme lasted, Birotteau was affected by feverish 
 sensations. He was restless, he was afraid he 
 would not live until the great day when the decision 
 would be given. His heart palpitated without 
 cause, he said. He complained of dull pains in that 
 organ, so much used up by his emotions of sorrow 
 that he was fatigued by this supreme joy. Decrees 
 of rehabilitation are so rare in the business of the 
 royal court of Paris that it pronounces scarcely one 
 in ten years. To those who take society seri- 
 ously, the formalities of justice have something
 
 438 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 indescribably great and serious. Institutions de- 
 pend entirely on the weight that men attach to 
 them and the grandeur with which they are clad 
 by thought. And so, when nothing is left, not of 
 religion, but of belief, in a people, when primary 
 education has loosened therein all the conservative 
 bonds by habituating the child to a pitiless analysis, 
 a nation is dissolved; for it is no longer a body 
 except by the ignoble welding of material interests, 
 by the commandments of the worship of a well- 
 understood egotism. Fed on religious ideas, Birot- 
 teau took justice for what it ought to be in men's 
 eyes, a representation of society itself, an august 
 expression of the accepted law, independent of the 
 form in which it is produced: the older, the more 
 worn, the more hoary a magistracy is, the more 
 solemn, moreover, is the exercise of its priesthood, 
 which means so profound a study of men and things, 
 which sacrifices the heart and hardens it under the 
 tutelage of palpitating interests. They become rare, 
 those men who do not climb with keen emotions the 
 ladder of the royal court, in the old Palais de Justice 
 at Paris, and the former merchant was one of these 
 men. Few persons have remarked the mysterious 
 solemnity of that stairway so admirably situated to 
 produce an effect: it is found above the exterior 
 peristyle that adorns the Palace court, and its door- 
 way is in the middle of a gallery that leads from 
 one end to the immense Salle des Pas Perdus, from 
 the other to the Sainte-Chapelle, two monuments 
 that may well make everything around them look
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 439 
 
 mean. The church of Saint-Louis is one of the most 
 imposing edifices in Paris, and the approach to it 
 has an indescribably sombre and romantic appear- 
 ance from the end of that gallery. The great Salle 
 des Pas Perdus, on the contrary, has a vista full of 
 light, and it is difficult to forget that the history of 
 France is bound up with that hall. This stairway 
 must, then, have some rather imposing character- 
 istic, for it is not too much crowded by these two 
 magnificences. Perhaps the soul is there moved at 
 the aspect of the place where decrees are rendered, 
 seen through the rich grating of the Palace. The 
 stairway opens on an immense room, the ante- 
 chamber to that in which the court holds the ses- 
 sions of its first chamber, and which forms the 
 Salle des Pas Perdus of the court. Imagine what 
 emotions must have been experienced by the insol- 
 vent, who was naturally impressed by these acces- 
 sories, as he ascended to the court surrounded by 
 his friends: Lebas, then president of the Tribunal 
 of Commerce; Camusot, his former commissary- 
 judge, Ragon, his old em.ployer; the Abbe Loraux, 
 his confessor. The holy priest pointed out those 
 human splendors with a reflection that made them 
 still more imposing in Cesar's eyes. Pillerault, 
 that practical philosopher, had thought of exagger- 
 ating in advance his nephew's joy, so as to relieve 
 him from the dangers of the unforeseen events of 
 that feast. Just as the former merchant was com- 
 pleting his toilet, he saw his true friends approach- 
 ing, and they deemed it an honor to accompany
 
 440 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 him to the bar of the court. This escort developed 
 in the brave man a contentment that threw him 
 into the exaltation necessary to bear up against the 
 imposing spectacle of the court. Birotteau found 
 other friends assembled in the hall of the solemn 
 sessions, where sat a dozen judges. 
 
 After the cases had been called, Birotteau's law- 
 yer made the request in a few words. On a sign 
 from the first president, the advocate-general, in- 
 vited to give his conclusions, arose. In the name of 
 the law, the attorney-general, the man who repre- 
 sents the public right, went himself to ask that he 
 restore honor to the merchant who had only pledged 
 it: a unique ceremony, for the culprit can be but 
 pardoned. People with feeling may imagine Birot- 
 teau's emotions when he heard Monsieur de Gran- 
 ville pronouncing a discourse, of which the following 
 is a synopsis : 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the famous magistrate, "on 
 the sixteenth of January, 1820, Birotteau was 
 declared in a state of insolvency by a decree of the 
 Tribunal of Commerce of the Seine, The stoppage 
 of payment was not caused either by this trader's 
 imprudence, or by false speculations, or by any 
 reason that could stain his honor. We feel the 
 need of saying so distinctly: this misfortune was 
 caused by one of those disasters that have been 
 repeated to the great grief of justice and of the city 
 of Paris. It was reserved for our age, in which for 
 a long time yet will be fermented the unwholesome 
 leaven of the manners and ideas of the Revolution,
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 441 
 
 to see the notary's office in Paris straying away 
 from the glorious traditions of the preceding ages, 
 and producing in a few years as many failures as 
 are to be found in two centuries under the old mon- 
 archy. The greed for gold rapidly acquired has 
 attacked the ministerial officers, those guardians of 
 the public fortune, those intermediary magistrates!" 
 
 Tnere was a tirade on this text, in which, in 
 obedience to the necessities of his office, the Comte 
 de Granville found the means to incriminate the 
 Liberals, the Bonapartists and other enemies of the 
 throne. The event has proved that this magistrate 
 was right in his apprehensions. 
 
 "The flight of a Paris notary, who ran off with 
 the money entrusted to him by Birotteau, decided 
 the petitioner's ruin," he continued. "The court, 
 in this case, has rendered a decision which proves 
 to what extent the confidence of Roguin's clients 
 was shamefully deceived. A settlement intervened. 
 We will state, to the petitioner's honor, that the 
 operations were remarkable for a purity that is to 
 be found in none of the failures of a scandalous 
 character with which the trade of Paris is every day 
 afflicted. Birotteau's creditors found the smallest 
 things that the unfortunate man was possessed of. 
 They found, gentlemen, his clothing, his jewelry, 
 in fine, the articles of purely personal use, not only 
 belonging to himself, but those of his wife, who 
 abandoned all her rights to swell the assets. Birot- 
 teau, on this occasion, was worthy of the considera- 
 tion that had been won for him by the municipal
 
 442 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 offices he had held ; for he was then deputy to the 
 mayor of the second arrondissement and had re- 
 ceived the decoration of the Legion of Honor, granted 
 as much because of the devotedness of the Royalist 
 who fought in Vendemiaire on the steps of Saint- 
 Roch, then stained with his blood, as to the consular 
 magistrate esteemed for his intelligence, loved 
 for his conciliatory spirit, and to the modest 
 municipal officer who had refused the honors of the 
 mayorship while suggesting one more worthy, the 
 Honorable Baron de la Billardi^re, one of the noble 
 Vendeans, whom he had learned to esteem in evil 
 days." 
 
 "That phrase is better than mine," Cesar whis- 
 pered in his uncle's ear. 
 
 "And so the creditors, finding sixty per cent of 
 their claims by the surrender of all that this loyal 
 merchant, his wife and his daughter possessed, have 
 recorded the expressions of their esteem in the set- 
 tlement that was made between them and their 
 debtor, and released him from the rest of their 
 claims. These testimonies recommend themselves 
 to the attention of the court by the manner in which 
 they are conceived." 
 
 Here the attorney-general read the terms of the 
 settlement. 
 
 "In the presence of these kindly dispositions, 
 gentlemen, many merchants would have felt them- 
 selves in a position to consider themselves liberated, 
 and would have walked out proudly in public. Far 
 otherwise, Birotteau, without allowing himself to be
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 443 
 
 dejected, formed in his conscience the plan of reach- 
 ing the glorious day that dawns here for him. 
 Nothing has daunted him. A place is accorded by 
 our well-beloved sovereign to give bread to the 
 wounded man of Saint-Roch, the insolvent reserves 
 the salary for his creditors without taking anything 
 from it for his own wants, for the devotedness of the 
 family has not failed him — " 
 
 Birotteau, weeping, wrung his uncle's hands. 
 
 "His wife and daughter poured into the common 
 treasury the fruits of their toil ; they had espoused 
 Birotteau's noble idea. Each of them went down 
 from the position that she had occupied to take one 
 inferior to it. These sacrifices, gentlemen, ought 
 to be highly honored; they are the most difficult of 
 all to make. Such was the task that Birotteau 
 imposed upon himself." 
 
 Here the attorney-general read the resume of the 
 balance-sheet, pointing out the sums that remained 
 due and the creditors' names. 
 
 "Each of these sums, interest included, has been 
 paid, gentlemen, not by receipts over private signa- 
 tures that call for the strictest inquiry, but by au- 
 thentic receipts by which the scruples of the court 
 could not be taken by surprise, and which have not 
 prevented the magistrates from doing their duty by 
 proceeding to the inquiry demanded by the law. 
 You will give back to Birotteau not honor, but the 
 rights of which he had been deprived, and you will 
 do justice. Such sights are so rare in your pres- 
 ence that we cannot refrain from testifying to the
 
 444 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 petitioner how much we applaud such conduct, 
 which had already been encouraged by august pro- 
 tection." 
 
 Then he read the formal conclusions in the 
 Palace style. 
 
 The court deliberated without retiring, and the 
 president arose to pronounce the decree. 
 
 "The court," he said, in closing, "charges me to 
 express to Birotteau the satisfaction that it feels in 
 giving such a judgment. — Clerk, call the next case. " 
 
 Birotteau, already clad in the caftan of honor by 
 the phrases applied to him by the illustrious attor- 
 ney-general, was thunderstruck with pleasure as he 
 heard the solemn phrase spoken by the first presi- 
 dent of the highest royal court of France, and which 
 betrayed emotions in the heart of impassible 
 human justice. He was unable to leave his place 
 at the bar, he seemed to have been nailed to it, 
 looking in a stupefied way at the magistrates, as if 
 they were angels who had come to reopen to him 
 the gates of social life; his uncle took him by the 
 arm and led him into the hall. Cesar, who had not 
 obeyed Louis XVIIl., then mechanically put the 
 ribbon of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole, 
 and was all at once surrounded by his friends and 
 carried in triumph to his carriage. 
 
 "Where, my friends, are you taking me.?" he 
 asked Joseph Lebas, Pillerault and Ragon. 
 
 "To your home." 
 
 "No, it is three o'clock; I want to go to the 
 Bourse and use my right."
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 445 
 
 "To the Bourse," said Pillerault to the driver, 
 as he made an expressive sign to Lebas, for he 
 noticed disturbing symptoms in the rehabilitated, 
 and he was afraid his mind would become affected. 
 
 The former perfumer entered the Bourse, giving 
 his arm to his uncle and Lebas, those two vener- 
 ated merchants. His rehabilitation was known. 
 The first person who saw the three merchants, fol- 
 lowed by old Ragon, was Du Tillet. 
 
 "Ah! my dear master, I am delighted to know 
 that you have got out of it. I have, perhaps, con- 
 tributed to this happy ending of your troubles, by 
 the ease with which I let little Popinot make a 
 good thing. I am as well pleased at your happiness 
 as if it were my ov/n. " 
 
 "You could not be otherwise," said Pillerault 
 "That will never happen to you." 
 
 "What do you mean, sir.?" said Du Tillet. 
 
 "Zounds! a good hit," said Lebas, smiling at 
 Pillerault's revengeful malice, for the latter, with- 
 out knowing anything, regarded this man as a crim- 
 inal. 
 
 Matifat recognized Cesar. All at once the mer- 
 chants of best repute surrounded the former perfumer 
 and gave him a Bourse ovation ; he received the 
 most flattering compliments, hand-shakings that 
 awakened many jealousies, excited some remorse, 
 for, out of a hundred persons who were parading 
 there, more than fifty had failed. Gigonnet and 
 Gobseck, who were chatting in a corner, looked at 
 the honest perfumer as physicians must have looked
 
 446 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 at the first electric gymnote that was shown to 
 them. This fish, possessing the power of a Leyden 
 jar, is the greatest curiosity of the animal kingdom. 
 After having breathed the incense of his triumph, 
 Cesar went baci< into his hack and set out to return 
 to his house, where the marriage-contract between 
 his dear Cesarine and the devoted Popinot was ta 
 be signed. He had a nervous laugh that struck his 
 three old friends. 
 
 A failing of youth is to believe everybody as 
 strong as it is itself, a failing that, moreover, 
 belongs to its qualities. Instead of seeing men and 
 things through glasses, it colors them with the 
 reflections from its flame, and casts its exuberance 
 of life even on old people. Like Cesar and Con- 
 stance, Popinot kept in his memory a gorgeous 
 image of the ball given by Birotteau. During 
 those three years of trials, Constance and Cesar had, 
 without saying so to themselves, often heard Col- 
 linet's orchestra, again seen the flowery assemblage, 
 and tasted that joy so cruelly punished, as Adam 
 and Eve must sometimes have thought of that for- 
 bidden fruit that gave death and life to all their 
 posterity, for it seems that the reproduction of the 
 angels is one of Heaven's mysteries. But Popinot 
 could think of that feast without remorse, nay, with 
 delight: Cesarine, in all her glory, had promised to 
 be his, when he was poor. During that evening 
 he had been assured that he was loved for his own 
 sake. And so, when he had redeemed from Ce- 
 lestin the apartments that Grindot had restored.
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 447 
 
 stipulating that everything should remain intact, 
 when he had scrupulously preserved intact the small- 
 est things that had belonged to Cesar and Constance, 
 he dreamt of giving his ball, a marriage ball. He 
 had lovingly prepared for this feast, imitating his 
 employer only in the expenses that were necessary, 
 and not in foolishness: the foolishness had been 
 done. Thus the dinner was to be served by Chevet, 
 the guests were almost the same. The Abbe Loraux 
 took the place of the grand chancellor of the Legion 
 of Honor; the president of the Tribunal of Com- 
 merce, Lebas, did not fail to attend. Popinot invited 
 Monsieur Camusot to thank him for the good wishes 
 that he had lavished on Birotteau. Monsieur de 
 Vandenesse and Monsieur de Fontaine came instead 
 of Roguin and his wife. Cesarine and Popinot had 
 distributed their invitations for the ball with dis- 
 cernment. Both equally dreaded the publicity of a 
 wedding ; they had obviated the friction that annoys 
 tender and pure hearts by arranging to give the ball 
 on the day of the contract. Constance had found 
 again that cherry dress in which, for a single day, 
 she had shone with such flitting splendor! It had 
 pleased Cesarine to give Popinot the surprise of 
 showing herself in that ball toilet, of which he had 
 spoken to her many and many a time. Thus the 
 rooms were going to present to Birotteau the enchant- 
 ing spectacle that he had enjoyed during a single 
 evening. Neither Constance, nor Cesar, nor 
 Anselme had perceived the danger that Cesar would 
 incur in this great surprise, and they awaited him
 
 448 CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 at four o'clock with a joy that made them do childish 
 things. 
 
 After the inexpressible emotions that he had just 
 experienced on account of his re-entering the 
 Bourse, that hero of commercial honesty was going 
 to receive the shock that awaited him in the Rue 
 Saint-Honore. When, on re-entering his former 
 home, he saw at the foot of the stairs, that had 
 remained new, his wife, in a cherry velvet dress, 
 Cesarine, the Comte de Fontaine, the Vicomte de 
 Vandenesse, the Baron de la Billardi^re, the illus- 
 trious Vauquelin, there came a slight veil over his 
 eyes, and his Uncle Pillerault, who gave him his 
 arm, felt an internal trembling. 
 
 "It is too much, " said the philosopher to Anselme, 
 the lover; "he will never be able to stand all the 
 wine that you are pouring out for him." 
 
 Joy was so deeply impressed on all hearts that 
 each one attributed Cesar's emotion and his stag- 
 gering to some quite natural intoxication, but one 
 that is often mortal. On finding himself again in 
 his own house, on again seeing his parlor, his 
 guests, among whom were women in ball dress, 
 suddenly the heroic movement of the finale of 
 Beethoven's grand symphony burst forth in his head 
 and in his heart. 
 
 That ideal music radiated, played in all its 
 moods, made clarion sounds in all the meninges of 
 that wearied brain, for which it was to be the grand 
 finale. 
 
 Overwhelmed by this internal harmony, he went
 
 THE DEATH OF CESAR BIROTTEAU 
 
 "Behold the death of the Just;' said the Abbe 
 Loranx, in a gra^'e voice as he pointed to Cesar 
 li'ith one of those divine gestures that Rembrandt 
 has interpreted in his painting of Christ bringing 
 Lazarus back to life.
 
 ''Ulku-l.-^A u</ /.y^i' /y. '^.3$.
 
 !N MISFORTUNE 449 
 
 to take his wife's arm and to whisper in her ear, in 
 a voice stifled by a continuous flow of blood: 
 
 "I am not well!" 
 
 Constance, frightened, led her husband into her 
 room, which he did not reach without difficulty, and 
 where he threw himself into an arm-chair, saying: 
 
 "Monsieur Haudry! Monsieur Loraux!" 
 
 The Abbe Loraux came, followed by the guests 
 and the women in ball costume, all of whom stopped 
 and formed a stunned group. In the presence of 
 those flower-bedecked people, Cesar pressed his con- 
 fessor's hand and leaned his head on his kneeling 
 wife's bosom. A vessel had already burst in his 
 chest, and the flow from the aneurism strangled his 
 last breath. 
 
 "Behold the death of the just," said the Abbe 
 Loraux, in a grave voice as he pointed to Cesar 
 with one of those divine gestures that Rembrandt 
 has interpreted in his painting of Christ bringing 
 Lazarus back to life. 
 
 Jesus orders the earth to give up its prey, the 
 holy priest pointed out to Heaven a martyr of com- 
 mercial honesty to be decorated with the eternal 
 palm. 
 
 Paris, November and December, 1837.
 
 LIST OF ETCHINGS 
 
 VOLUME VII 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AT HOME Fronts. 
 
 Mme. AND CESARINE BIROTTEAU 112 
 
 IN MISFORTUNE 304 
 
 AT THE BARON DE NUCINGEN'S 320 
 
 THE DEATH OF CESAR BIROTTEAU 448 
 
 7 N. R., C. B. 451
 
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