further explanation, that wonderful laugh that he had. Balzac's father, who shared qualities at that time with Montaigne, Rabelais, and Uncle Toby, by his philosophy, his originality, and his goodness (it's Madame de Surville who is speaking), had a little better opinion of his son, believing due to certain genetic theories that he held that a child created by himself could not be stupid: nevertheless, he had no suspicion of the great man that he would become in the future. Balzac's family having returned to Paris, he was entered into the boarding school of Monsieur Lepitre, Rue Saint-Louis, and Messieurs Sganzer and Beuzelin, Rue Thoringy in the Marais. There as at the school in Vendôme, his genius did not reveal itself, and he remained in the midst of the troop of ordinary students. No prefect exclaimed to him: "You will be Marcellus!" or "Thus you shall go to the stars!" His classes finished, Balzac gave himself that second education which is the true one; he studied, perfected himself, attended the courses of the Sorbonne, and studied law while working with an attorney and a notary. This time, apparently lost, since Balzac became neither an attorney, nor a notary, nor a lawyer, nor a judge, gave him a personal acquaintance with the personnel of the Bazoche and led him to later write what I might call the litigations of La Comédie Humaine in the style of a man marvelously versed in that profession. The examinations passed, the great question of which career to select presented itself. His family wanted to make a notary of Balzac; but the future great writer, who, even though no one believed in his genius, had a consciousness of it himself, refused in a most respectful manner, although they had organized a position on the most favorable terms. His father gave him two years to prove himself, and as the family had returned to the provinces, Madame Balzac installed Honoré in a garret, allowing him a stipend sufficient for only his most pressing needs, hoping that a little hardship would make him wiser. This garret was perched on the Rue de Lesdiguières, number nine, near the Arsenal, whose library offered its resources to the young laborer. Without a doubt, to pass from an abundant and luxurious house to a miserable hovel would be difficult at any age other than 21, which was the age of Balzac; but if the dream of every child is to have boots, that of every young man is to have a room, a room all to himself, whose key he carries in his pocket, although he can stand upright only at its center: a room, it's the trappings of virility, it's independence, personality, love!