ut of the shop to avoid an explosion. He was furious.
Lousteau followed.

"Well, my boy, pray keep cool. Take men as they are--for means to an
end. Do you wish for revenge?"

"At any price," muttered the poet.

"Here is a copy of Nathan's book. Dauriat has just given it to me. The
second edition is coming out to-morrow; read the book again, and knock
off an article demolishing it. Felicien Vernou cannot endure Nathan, for
he thinks that Nathan's success will injure his own forthcoming book. It
is a craze with these little minds to fancy that there is not room for
two successes under the sun; so he will see that your article finds a
place in the big paper for which he writes."

"But what is there to be said against the book; it is good work!" cried
Lucien.

"Oh, I say! you must learn your trade," said Lousteau, laughing. "Given
that the book was a masterpiece, under the stroke of your pen it must
turn to dull trash, dangerous and unwholesome stuff."

"But how?"

"You turn all the good points into bad ones."

"I am incapable of such a juggler's feat."

"My dear boy, a journalist is a juggler; a man must make up his mind to
the drawbacks of the calling. Look here! I am not a bad fellow; this
is the way _I_ should set to work myself. Attention! You might begin by
praising the book, and amuse yourself a while by saying what you really
think. 'Good,' says the reader, 'this critic is not jealous; he will be
impartial, no doubt,' and from that point your public will think that
your criticism is a piece of conscientious work. Then, when you have
won your reader's confidence, you will regret that you must blame the
tendency and influence of such work upon French literature. 'Does
not France,' you will say, 'sway the whole intellectual world? French
writers have kept Europe in the path of analysis and philosophical
criticism from age to age by their powerful style and the original turn
given by them to ideas.' Here, for the benefit of the philistine, insert
a panegyric on Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, Montesquieu, and Buffon.
Hold forth upon the inexorable French language; show how it spreads a
varnish, as it were, over thought. Let fall a few aphorisms, such
as--'A great writer in France is invariably a great man; he writes in
a language which compels him to think; it is otherwise in other
countries'--and so on, and so on. Then, to prove your case, draw a
comparison between Rabener, the German satirical moralist, and La