“I will triumph!” he cried aloud.

“Good!” said the other, “one more Christian given over to the wild beasts in the arena.—­There is a first-night performance at the Panorama-Dramatique, my dear fellow; it doesn’t begin till eight, so you can change your coat, come properly dressed in fact, and call for me.  I am living on the fourth floor above the Cafe Servel, Rue de la Harpe.  We will go to Dauriat’s first of all.  You still mean to go on, do you not?  Very well, I will introduce you to one of the kings of the trade to-night, and to one or two journalists.  We will sup with my mistress and several friends after the play, for you cannot count that dinner as a meal.  Finot will be there, editor and proprietor of my paper.  As Minette says in the Vaudeville (do you remember?), ’Time is a great lean creature.’  Well, for the like of us, Chance is a great lean creature, and must be tempted.”

“I shall remember this day as long as I live,” said Lucien.

“Bring your manuscript with you, and be careful of your dress, not on Florine’s account, but for the booksellers’ benefit.”

The comrade’s good-nature, following upon the poet’s passionate outcry, as he described the war of letters, moved Lucien quite as deeply as d’Arthez’s grave and earnest words on a former occasion.  The prospect of entering at once upon the strife with men warmed him.  In his youth and inexperience he had no suspicion how real were the moral evils denounced by the journalist.  Nor did he know that he was standing at the parting of two distinct ways, between two systems, represented by the brotherhood upon one hand, and journalism upon the other.  The first way was long, honorable, and sure; the second beset with hidden dangers, a perilous path, among muddy channels where conscience is inevitably bespattered.  The bent of Lucien’s character determined for the shorter way, and the apparently pleasanter way, and to snatch at the quickest and promptest means.  At this moment he saw no difference between d’Arthez’s noble friendship and Lousteau’s easy comaraderie; his inconstant mind discerned a new weapon in journalism; he felt that he could wield it, so he wished to take it.

He was dazzled by the offers of this new friend, who had struck a hand in his in an easy way, which charmed Lucien.  How should he know that while every man in the army of the press needs friends, every leader needs men.  Lousteau, seeing that Lucien was resolute, enlisted him as a recruit, and hoped to attach him to himself.  The relative positions of the two were similar—­one hoped to become a corporal, the other to enter the ranks.