gh fine-looking.
Well, three gamins de Paris called him bad names. Says one:--

"Ah, mon Dieu! there goes a priest; look out for your eggs and
chickens!"

What did this good man do? He called to them kindly.

"My children," said he, "this is clearly not your fault. I recognize
in this insult and irreverence only the fault of your immediate
progenitors. Let us pray for your immediate progenitors."

They knelt down and prayed for their immediate progenitors.

The effect was touching.

The Bishop looked calmly around.

"On reflection," said he, gravely, "I was mistaken; this is clearly the
fault of Society. Let us pray for Society."

They knelt down and prayed for Society.

The effect was sublimer yet. What do you think of that? You, I mean.

Everybody remembers the story of the Bishop and Mother Nez Retrousse.
Old Mother Nez Retrouse sold asparagus. She was poor; there's a great
deal of meaning in that word, my friend. Some people say "poor but
honest." I say, Bah!

Bishop Myriel bought six bunches of asparagus. This good man had one
charming failing; he was fond of asparagus. He gave her a franc and
received three sous change.

The sous were bad,--counterfeit. What did this good Bishop do? He
said: "I should not have taken change from a poor woman."

Then afterwards, to his housekeeper: "Never take change from a poor
woman."

Then he added to himself: "For the sous will probably be bad."

II.

When a man commits a crime, society claps him in prison. A prison is
one of the worst hotels imaginable. The people there are low and
vulgar. The butter is bad, the coffee is green. Ah, it is horrible!

In prison, as in a bad hotel, a man soon loses, not only his morals,
but what is much worse to a Frenchman, his sense of refinement and
delicacy.

Jean Valjean came from prison with confused notions of society. He
forgot the modern peculiarities of hospitality. So he walked off with
the Bishop's candlesticks.

Let us consider: candlesticks were stolen; that was evident. Society
put Jean Valjean in prison; that was evident, too. In prison, Society
took away his refinement; that is evident, likewise.

Who is Society?

You and I are Society.

My friend, you and I stole those candlesticks!

III.

The Bishop thought so, too. He meditated profoundly for six days. On
the morning of the seventh he went to the Prefecture of Police.

He said: "Monsieur, have me arrested. I have