he body to the
cemetery. In those days he was heroic. His sorrow, restrained like that
of all men who are strong without assumption, increased the sympathy
felt in his neighborhood for the "worthy man,"--a term applied to
Pillerault in a tone which broadened its meaning and ennobled it. The
sobriety of Claude Pillerault, long become a habit, did not yield before
the pleasures of an idle life when, on quitting his business, he sought
the rest which drags down so many of the Parisian bourgeoisie. He kept
up his former ways of life, and enlivened his old age by convictions
and interests, which belonged, we must admit, to the extreme Left.
Pillerault belonged to that working-men's party which the Revolution
had fused with the bourgeoisie. The only blot upon his character was the
importance he attached to the triumph of that party; he held to all the
rights, to the liberty, and to the fruits of the Revolution; he believed
that his peace of mind and his political stability were endangered by
the Jesuits, whose secret power was proclaimed aloud by the Liberals,
and menaced by the principles with which the "Constitutionnel" endowed
Monsieur. He was quite consistent in his life and ideas; there was
nothing narrow about his politics; he never insulted his adversaries, he
dreaded courtiers and believed in republican virtues; he thought Manuel
a pure man, General Foy a great one, Casimir Perier without ambition,
Lafayette a political prophet, and Courier a worthy fellow. He had
indeed some noble chimeras. The fine old man lived a family life; he
went about among the Ragons, his niece Birotteau, the judge Popinot,
Joseph Lebas, and his friend Matifat. Fifteen hundred francs a year
sufficed for all his personal wants. As to the rest of his income he
spent it on good deeds, and in presents to his great-niece; he gave a
dinner four times a year to his friends, at Roland's, Rue du Hasard,
and took them afterwards to the theatre. He played the part of those old
bachelors on whom married women draw at sight for their amusements,--a
country jaunt, the opera, the Montagnes-Beaujon, _et caetera_.
Pillerault was made happy by the pleasure he gave; his joys were in the
hearts of others. Though he had sold his business, he did not wish to
leave the neighborhood to which all his habits tied him; and he took
a small appartement of three rooms in the Rue des Bourdonnais on the
fourth floor of an old house.

Just as the moral nature of Molineux cou