The supper passed gaily. Everybody had a good appetite. Gredel helped the children; Coucou Peter filled the glasses, and proposed, first, the health of Maître Frantz—next, that of Pastor Schweitzer. The illustrious philosopher celebrated the peregrination of souls, and the pastor eulogised his progeny with tender benevolence. Fritz was going to be a minister; he cared for nothing but the Bible; he was a highly-intelligent child. Wilhelm promised to be admirably fitted for commerce; and Ludwig could not fail to become a general, for he played on the fife from morning till night. Mathéus would not contradict the philosophical opinions of his host; but he thought they all belonged, without exception, to the family of the penguins, remarkable for their short wings, large stomachs, and insatiable appetites. It was a very gentle satisfaction for the illustrious philosopher to see his foresight confirmed on the arrival of the dessert; these little ones then set to eating cream, cakes, and tarts with surprising avidity. Fritz cracked filberts; Wilhelm crammed raisins into his pocket; and little Ludwig drank Gredel’s wine every time she turned her head to smile at Coucou Peter. At the end of the meal the pastor had his meerschaum brought him, and, while listening to the address of Maître Frantz, who was requesting the use of the temple for the purpose of announcing his doctrine, lit it; then, throwing himself back in his arm-chair, he blew a few puffs of smoke into the air, and with the utmost quietude of manner replied— “Illustrious philosopher! you are possessed by a truly affecting philosophic ardour, and it would be a real pleasure to me to be of service to you. But, as to the temple, it is not to be thought of; I cannot raise up against myself the antagonism of such irresistible eloquence as yours; that is too much to expect of human weakness. But, thank Heaven, we have a casino at Saverne—that is to say, a place of reunion for the élite of society: barristers, judges, procureurs, all well-informed persons, who will like nothing better than to listen to you and profit by your instruction. If you wish it——” “It is the Being of Beings Himself who has inspired you with the idea of conducting me to this place!” cried Mathéus, interrupting him. “There is not a moment to be lost; the universe has too long trembled in doubt and uncertainty.” “Restrain your impatience, illustrious philosopher!” replied the pastor. “In the first place, it will be as well to have your boots blacked. I know well that a superior mind does not trouble itself with such details, but polished boots can do no harm to your eloquence. Besides that, Gredel will give your coat a brush, so that you may conform to the oratorical decorum recommended by Cicero; by which time I hope to have finished my pipe, and we will set off.”