ato at Athens,' said Herbert. 'My ambition
now does not soar beyond such elegant fortune.'

'We are all under great obligations to Plato,' said Cadurcis. 'I
remember, when I was in London, I always professed myself his
disciple, and it is astonishing what results I experienced. Platonic
love was a great invention.'

Herbert smiled; but, as he saw Cadurcis knew nothing about the
subject, he made no reply.

'Plato says, or at least I think he says, that life is love,' said
Cadurcis. 'I have said it myself in a very grand way too; I believe I
cribbed it from you. But what does he mean? I am sure I meant nothing;
but I dare say you did.'

'I certainly had some meaning,' said Herbert, stopping in his search,
and smiling, 'but I do not know whether I expressed it. The principle
of every motion, that is of all life, is desire or love: at present;
I am in love with the lost volume of Cabanis, and, if it were not
for the desire of obtaining it, I should not now be affording any
testimony of my vitality by looking after it.'

'That is very clear,' said Cadurcis, 'but I was thinking of love in
the vulgar sense, in the shape of a petticoat. Certainly, when I am in
love with a woman, I feel love is life; but, when I am out of love,
which often happens, and generally very soon, I still contrive to
live.'

'We exist,' said Herbert, 'because we sympathise. If we did not
sympathise with the air, we should die. But, if we only sympathised
with the air, we should be in the lowest order of brutes, baser than
the sloth. Mount from the sloth to the poet. It is sympathy that makes
you a poet. It is your desire that the airy children of your brain
should be born anew within another's, that makes you create;
therefore, a misanthropical poet is a contradiction in terms.'

'But when he writes a lampoon?' said Cadurcis.

'He desires that the majority, who are not lampooned, should share his
hate,' said Herbert.

'But Swift lampooned the species,' said Cadurcis. 'For my part, I
think life is hatred.'

'But Swift was not sincere, for he wrote the Drapier's Letters at the
same time. Besides, the very fact of your abusing mankind proves that
you do not hate them; it is clear that you are desirous of obtaining
their good opinion of your wit. You value them, you esteem them, you
love them. Their approbation causes you to act, and makes you happy.
As for sexual love,' said Herbert, 'of which you were speaking, its
quality and duration depen