"Because when M. Laffitte arrived in Paris, much poorer even than you, he went to see M. Perregaux, just as you are going to call on M. Laffitte; he went to ask for a place in his office, as you are going to ask for one in his. M. Perregaux had no vacancy; he dismissed M. Laffitte, who was going away, his eyes looking down sadly on the floor as father Aubry's were inclined towards the grave, when he perceived a pin, not on the earth but on the carpet. M. Laffitte was a tidy man: he picked up the pin and put it on the mantelpiece, saying, 'Pardon me, monsieur.' But M. Perregaux, be it known, was a person who noticed every little thing: he reflected that a young man who would pick up a pin from the ground must be an orderly person, and, as M. Laffitte was going away, he said to him, 'I have been thinking, monsieur, stay.' 'But you told me you had no opening in your office.' 'If there is not one, we will make one for you.' M. Perregaux did as a matter of fact make room for him--as his partner." "That is a very delightful story, dear Monsieur Mennesson, and I thank you for your great kindness in relating it to me; but I am afraid it is no good to me; for, unluckily, I am no picker up of pins." "Ah! that is precisely your great fault." "Or my strongest point ... we shall see. Therefore, if you have any good advice to give me...?" "Beware of priests, hate the Bourbons, and remember that the only state worthy of a great nation is a Republic." "My dear Monsieur Mennesson, reversing the order of your advice, I would say: Yes, I am of your opinion as to the government which is most suited to a great nation, and on the supposition that if I am anything I am a Republican like yourself. As for the Bourbons, I neither love them nor hate them. I have heard it said that their race produced a holy king, a good one and a great one: Saint Louis, Henri IV. and Louis XIV. Only, the last reigning sovereign returned to France riding behind a Cossack; that, I believe, damaged the Bourbon cause in the eyes of France; so it comes about that if some day my voice is needed to hasten their going away, and my gun to assist their departure, those who are driving them out will find one voice and one gun the more. As to distrusting priests, I have only known but one, the Abbé Grégoire, and as he seemed to me the model of all Christian virtues, until I encounter a bad one, let me believe that all are good." "Well, well, you will change all that." "It is possible. Meanwhile, give me your hand: I am going to ask for his blessing." "Go, then, and much good may it do you!" "I believe it will." I went to the abbé. "Well, well," he said, "so you are going to leave us?" It will be seen that the rumour of my departure had already spread all over the place. "Yes, M. l'abbé, and I have come to ask you to remember me in your prayers." "Oh! my prayers? I thought that was the thing you cared least about." "M. l'abbé, do you remember the day I made my first communion?"