re the reading expected from the young Sybarite, a great contest
arose between him and other poets and prose writers of the time. They
spoke to each other with great volubility and animation a language
incomprehensible to any one who should suddenly have come among them
without being initiated, eagerly pressing each other's hands with
affectionate compliments and infinite allusions to their works.

"Ah, here you are, illustrious Baro!" cried the newcomer. "I have read
your last sixain. Ah, what a sixain! how full of the gallant and the
tendre?"

"What is that you say of the tendre?" interrupted Marion de Lorme; "have
you ever seen that country? You stopped at the village of Grand-Esprit,
and at that of Jolis-Vers, but you have been no farther. If Monsieur
le Gouverneur de Notre Dame de la Garde will please to show us his new
chart, I will tell you where you are."

Scudery arose with a vainglorious and pedantic air; and, unrolling
upon the table a sort of geographical chart tied with blue ribbons, he
himself showed the lines of red ink which he had traced upon it.

"This is the finest piece of Clelie," he said. "This chart is generally
found very gallant; but 'tis merely a slight ebullition of playful wit,
to please our little literary cabale. However, as there are strange
people in the world, it is possible that all who see it may not have
minds sufficiently well turned to understand it. This is the road which
must be followed to go from Nouvelle-Amitie to Tendre; and
observe, gentlemen, that as we say Cumae-on-the-Ionian-Sea,
Cumae-on-the-Tyrrhean-Sea, we shall say Tendre-sur-Inclination,
Tendre-sur-Estime, and Tendre-sur-Reconnaissance. We must begin by
inhabiting the village of Grand-Coeur, Generosity, Exactitude, and
Petits-Soins."

"Ah! how very pretty!" interposed Desbarreaux. "See the villages marked
out; here is Petits-Soins, Billet-Galant, then Billet-Doux!"

"Oh! 'tis ingenious in the highest degree!" cried Vaugelas, Colletet,
and the rest.

"And observe," continued the author, inflated with this success, "that
it is necessary to pass through Complaisance and Sensibility; and
that if we do not take this road, we run the risk of losing our way to
Tiedeur, Oubli, and of falling into the Lake of Indifference."

"Delicious! delicious! 'gallant au supreme!'" cried the auditors; "never
was greater genius!"

"Well, Madame," resumed Scudery, "I now declare it in your house:
this work, printed under my name,