d up a portion, upon which all the rest began to
pull and jostle to their utmost and feasted merrily.

In this I seem to see the picture of one of those unfortunate towns or
states which occasionally have suffered from the greed of their
ministers and officials. Each functionary has an eye to his own
advantage, and the smartest sets a pattern for the others. The way in
which the public funds disappear is amusing. If one sheriff or provost,
having a scruple of conscience, finds a trifling argument in defence of
the public interest the others show him that he is a fool if he utters
half a word. So, with a very little trouble, he gives way, and often
becomes the leading offender.

XVIII

THYRSIS AND AMARANTH

(BOOK VIII.--No. 13)

A shepherd who was deeply in love with a shepherdess was sitting one day
by her side trying to find words to express the emotions her charms
created in his breast.

"Ah! Amaranth, dear," he sighed, "could you but feel, as I do, a certain
pain which, whilst it tears the heart, is so delightful that it
enchants, you would say that nothing under heaven is its equal. Let me
tell you of it. Believe me, trust me. Would I deceive you? You, for whom
I am filled with the tenderest sentiments the heart can feel!"

"And what, my Thyrsis, is the name you give this pleasing pain?"

"It is called love," said Thyrsis.

"Ah!" responded the maiden, "that is a beautiful name. Tell me by what
signs I may know it, if it come to me. What are the feelings it gives
one?"

Thyrsis, taking heart of grace, replied with much ardour: "One feels an
anguish beside which the joys of kings are but dull and insipid. One
forgets oneself, and takes pleasure in the solitudes of the woods. To
glance into a brook is to see, not oneself, but an ever-haunting image.
To any other form one's eyes are blind. It may be that there is a
shepherd in the village at whose voice, at the mention of whose name,
you will blush; at the thought of whom you will sigh. Why, one knows
not! To see him will be a burning desire, and yet you would shrink from
him."

"Oho!" said Amaranth. "Is this then the pain you have preached so much!
It is hardly new to me. I seem to know something of it." The heart of
Thyrsis leapt, for he thought that at last he had gained his end; when
the fair one added, "'Tis just in this way that I feel for Cladimant!"

Imagine the vexation and misery of poor Thyrsis!

How many like him, intending to wo