“These people,” he said, “are going to break the windows of a bootmaker, and will succeed in doing so without any trouble. Do you think they would be as successful, if, for instance, they had to put in windows or bells at General Cartier de Chalmot’s? No, indeed! Popular enthusiasm is never constructive, but, on the contrary, essentially destructive. This time it aims at our destruction; you must not attach too much importance to this particular instance, but rather seek out the laws which govern it.” “No doubt,” replied M. Leterrier, who was frankness personified. “But, all the same, these events fill me with consternation. Can we callously look on at the overthrow of justice and truth by a people from whom Europe first learned the law, and who taught the meaning of justice to the whole world?” CHAPTER VIII Monsieur Le Premier Président Cassignol died in his ninety-second year, and, in accordance with his expressed wish, was carried to his grave upon a pauper’s hearse. This clause in his will was silently condemned. All present were inwardly offended, as though the injunction were intended as a slur upon that object of universal respect, money, and as the ostentatious relinquishment of a privilege appertaining to the bourgeois class. They called to mind that M. Cassignol had always lived in very good style, observing, even in extreme old age, a punctilious nicety with regard to his personal habits, and, although he had been unceasingly employed in charitable works, none would ever have dreamed of saying, in the words of a Christian orator, “He loved the poor even to becoming as one of them.” They did not believe the thing was done out of religious zeal, and looked upon it as a paradoxical piece of pride, the elaborate display of humility being received with the utmost coldness. They regretted, too, that the deceased, who had been an officer of the Legion of Honour, had directed that no military honours should be paid him. The state of the public mind, inflamed by the nationalist papers, was such, that open complaints at the absence of the military were heard among the crowd. General Cartier de Chalmot, who came in civilian attire, was greeted with profound respect by a deputation of lawyers. A great number of magistrates and clergy thronged around the house of mourning, and when, preceded by the Cross, and to the sound of bells and liturgical chants, the hearse moved slowly towards the cathedral accompanied by twelve white-coiffed nuns, and followed by a long grey and black line of boys and girls from the church schools, which stretched as far as the eye could see, the meaning of this long life entirely consecrated to the triumph of the Catholic Church was at once revealed. The whole town was there. M. Bergeret was among the stragglers following the procession, and M. Mazure, coming up to him, whispered in his ear: