contented. Nothing could be unless it
was, and nothing is different from what it has to be. Evolution goes
on evolving all the time. So here we are, you see, in the best world
possible at the present moment. Why not make the most of it? Pass me
the flagon."

"Not at all," interrupted the fourth beggar loudly, "I will have none
of your selfish religion or your immoral philosophy. I am a Reformer.
This is the worst world possible, and that is why I enjoy it. It gives
me my chance to make orations about reform. Philanthropy is the secret
of happiness."

"Piffle!" said the third beggar, tossing a gold coin in the air. "You
talk as if people heard you. The secret of happiness--religion,
philosophy, philanthropy?--poppycock! It is luck, sheer luck. Life is
a game of chance. Heads I win, tails you lose. Will you match me,
Master Poet?"

"You will have to excuse me," I said. "I have only a penny in my
pocket. But I am still puzzled by your answers. You seem of many
minds, but of one spirit. You are all equally contented. How is this?"

The eyes of the beggars turned to the piles of booty in front of them,
and they all nodded their heads wisely as if to say, "you can see."

A packet of papers lay before the first beggar and his look lingered
on them with love.

"How came you by these?" I asked.

"An old gentleman gave them to me," he answered. "He said he was my
grandfather. He was an unpleasant old fellow, but God rest his soul!
These are all gilt-edged."

The second beggar was playing with a heap of jewels. He was a handsome
fellow with fine hands.

"How did you get these pretty things?" said I.

"By consenting to be married," he replied. "It was easy enough. She
squints, and her grammar is defective, but she is a good little
thing."

The third beggar ran his fingers through the pile of gold before him,
and took up a coin, now and then, to flip it in the air.

"How did you earn this?" I asked.

"Earn it!" said he scornfully, "do you take me for a labouring man?
These fellows here lent me something, and I bet on how much corn that
fellow down there with the plough would raise--and the rest--why, the
rest was luck, sheer luck!"

"And you?" I turned to the fourth beggar who had a huge bag beside
him, so full of silver that the dimes and quarters ran from the mouth
of it.

"I," said he loftily, "am a Reformer. The people love me and give me
whatever I want, because I tell them that these other beggars have no