THERE existed formerly, in diplomatic circles, a curious custom,
since fallen into disuse, entitled the Pele Mele, contrived
doubtless by some distracted Master of Ceremonies to quell the
endless jealousies and quarrels for precedence between courtiers
and diplomatists of contending pretensions. Under this rule no
rank was recognized, each person being allowed at banquet, fete, or
other public ceremony only such place as he had been ingenious or
fortunate enough to obtain.

Any one wishing to form an idea of the confusion that ensued, of
the intrigues and expedients resorted to, not only in procuring
prominent places, but also in ensuring the integrity of the Pele
Mele, should glance over the amusing memoirs of M. de Segur.

The aspiring nobles and ambassadors, harassed by this constant
preoccupation, had little time or inclination left for any serious
pursuit, since, to take a moment's repose or an hour's breathing
space was to risk falling behind in the endless and aimless race.
Strange as it may appear, the knowledge that they owed place and
preferment more to chance or intrigue than to any personal merit or
inherited right, instead of lessening the value of the prizes for
which all were striving, seemed only to enhance them in the eyes of
the competitors.

Success was the unique standard by which they gauged their fellows.
Those who succeeded revelled in the adulation of their friends, but
when any one failed, the fickle crowd passed him by to bow at more
fortunate feet.