(BOOK VII.--No. 12)


Who does not run after Fortune?

I would I were in some spot whence I could watch the eager crowds
rushing from kingdom to kingdom in their vain chase after the daughter
of Chance!

They are indeed but faithful followers of a phantom; for when they think
they have her, lo! she is gone! Poor wretches! One must pity rather than
blame their foolishness. "That man," they say with sanguine voice,
"raised cabbages; and now he is Pope! Are we not as good as he?" Ah!
yes! a hundred times as good perhaps; but what of that? Fortune has no
eyes for all your merit. Besides, is Papacy, after all, worth peace,
which one must leave behind for it? Peace--a treasure that once was the
possession of gods alone--is seldom granted to the votaries of Dame
Fortune. Do not seek her; and then she will seek you. That is the way
with women!


There once were two friends, who lived comfortably and prospered
moderately in a village; but one of them was always wishing to do
better. One day he said to the other, "Suppose we left this place and
tried our luck elsewhere? You know that a prophet is never received in
his own country!"

"You try, by all means," returned his friend, "but as for me, I am
contented where I am. I desire neither better climate nor better