again took up the withered wreath, at which I had often sung; smiled,
made a sigh, and retired.

But no one was more delighted by the applause I had gained than my
friend Bertollon. He became more affectionate and confidential. We
regarded each other as brothers; he was devoted to me, and proved, in a
thousand ways, that he had a heart for others. He did not let a day
pass without showing some kindness; it was only by chance that I
learned many of his noble deeds.

"Oh! Bertollon," I once exclaimed, as I pressed him to my heart, "what
a man you are! Why must I pity as much as admire you?"

"You go too far in both points, for I deserve neither one nor the
other," replied he, with a complacent smile.

"No! Bertollon, what I lament is, that you are good and virtuous,
without wishing to appear so; you call virtue fanaticism and narrowness
of ideas, and yet you constantly practise its precepts."

"Well, then, Alamontade, rest satisfied with that. Why do you for ever
weary yourself with my conversion? When you are older I shall see you
treading in my footsteps; be, at least, tolerant for the present; the
same child has, perhaps, a twofold name."

"I doubt it. Could you, Bertollon, voluntarily plunge yourself into
misery in order to support a righteous cause?"

"What do you call a righteous cause? Your ideas are not clear."

"If you could save Montpellier from destruction by sacrificing
yourself, would you be capable of suffering poverty or death?"

"M. Colas, you rave again. Only fanatics can demand and make such
sacrifices, and it is good for the world that there are such. But now
come for once to your senses; I am sorry that you are always indulging
such whims, for in this way you will never be happy. Run over the
whole world and collect the fools who would meet death for your
notions: you will not find one in a hundred million. Every thing is
true, good, useful, just, and noble, only under certain circumstances.
The ideas of men vary everywhere; many have fancied that they could
save the world by their death. They died, but for their own caprice,
not for the world, and were afterwards laughed at as fools."

"For these words I could despise you, Bertollon."

"Then you would not be over virtuous, according to your own notions."

"If you could increase your wealth by plunging me into misery, would
you do so!"

"For such a question I ought to despise you, Colas?"

"And yet I may put it, for you s