The other with the 'Morning Post' III. THE iron chariots bowling on Are chiming with their thousand wheels, And nods about familiarly, Each to the other, as he were a brother, And all as the mist falls silently. Five hundred noses point ahead, And a thousand eye-lids closed, as dead As already the silver coin had pressed, And sealed them in their final rest; So chill, from the mist of the neighboring deep, Is the nodding, nibbling, icy sleep; And dreams confusing go and come, Which blessings are and a curse to some; Or such as you fancy a witch's are On a broom-stick ride in the midnight air; Some promenade all' at Symms's Hole, Or, Hands all around' at the Northern Pole; The spot, where the earth having come to a crisis The Sun goes around on the tops of the ices, A weary Anchises; Ices, like Alps, of all shapes and devices; The pyramid, dome, the temple, and all That seemed 'frozen music' to Madame DE STAEL; Or, some may prefer, as it 's here rather cold, Has dropped her babe, too drugged to squall ; No'th-East by East, a point too far; His dream is true, that he left last night But dreams must change; and now they wake Save a fire, and a bed, and something hot, Binds him a chaplet of Thirteen, To bid them breathe a silent prayer, The Sun comes mounting from the sea, To catch each wandering breeze that's sent; Some, just come in from Labrador, And some are there, have dipped their spars A sky-full from each wave that swells Its mounting crest in the Dardanelles; In some such trifling matter as A rough-and-tumble at Hatteras; And some, still warm from southern seas A long procession, dashing on, THALES O F PARIS. FROM THE FRENCH. ONE of the hobbies cherished in the most especial manner by the good citizen of Paris, is Philosophy; not that he takes delight in the cultivation of wisdom, or makes the study of nature his pursuit: but when things go well with him in the world; when his fortune has reached the limit of his desires; when age has abated the ardor of his passions, and in the bosom of his family he finds himself surrounded with every comfort and luxury that heart could wish; he fancies himself beyond the common accidents of life; he becomes a philosopher. His philosophy is his pet, his play-thing, his hobbyhorse upon which he gets astride, and gambols like a frolicsome child. Should his wife scold, should his roast-beef be burnt, should a sudden shower break up a party of pleasure, he alone preserves his equanimity; is smiling, soothing, and consolatory; he is a philos. opher. Philosophy is his sovereign panacea; with the understanding that no precautions have been neglected to secure him as far as possible against the weightier mishaps of life. His houses and fur niture are insured, and his money, instead of being exposed to the hazards of joint stock companies or rail-roads, is safely invested in the royal funds. Monsieur d'Herbois was a happy example of this consolatory system, and seemed to have been sent into the world expressly for the purpose of sounding the praises of philosophy, without ever being obliged to test its efficacy in his own case. Wealthy by a paternal inheritance, which thrift on his part had increased, he had early in life married the woman of his choice; and his only son, about twenty-two years of age, was now in his turn about to espouse a young lady, whose character, fortune, and family all exactly suited the fortunate father. And so Monsieur d'Herbois, a man of a natu rally placid and even temper, was now busying himself in preparing the dower, or if you please the appanage of Gustavus, with the benignity and disinterested solicitude of a sage. 'My friend,' said he to Monsieur Durand, who was not a philosopher, I shall give to Gustavus my house at Sussy. I well know that this will be a great sacrifice, and that we cannot pass the summers there any more, because it is possible that my wife cannot agree on all points with her daughter-in-law; but we love Gustavus so dearly-and beside, one must be a philosopher. We shall therefore live in Paris on the second floor; the first will be occupied by the young folks. My wife grumbles a little at this; but says I to her: My dear, suppose some unexpected calamity should occur, to sweep away all our property?-what would then become of us? Then we should have to climb up into the garret, and would be forced to summon up all our philosophy, of which we shall scarcely stand in need, merely to ascend a few additional steps. Thales of Miletus acted in this manner, one of the seven wise men of Greece, who endured all sorts of troubles without complaint, and in fact defied all mankind to disturb the serenity of his soul and the tranquillity of his spirit.' 'And do you give the same defiance to men as Thales did?' asked Monsieur Durand. You, my friend, ought to know whether I have Have you ever known me to depart from my 'I know,' replied M. Durand, 'that during the time since you and I left college together, which is now upward of thirty years, I have never known you to be afflicted with any personal misfortune; and if Thales of Miletus, whose story I do not now remember, was always as lucky, his philosophy would not have cost him more than yours does.' To speak candidly,' replied M. d'Herbois, with a good-natured smile, 'I think that I am a little more of a philosopher than Thales himself was; for I have never been inconsistent with my profes sions, although a husband and a father, while Thales was a bachelor.' 'But still,' said his friend Durand to him, 'you have never been put to the test.' Let the test come; I am ready.' Suppose your wife should prove false to you, or your son not turn out in accordance with your expectations? do you think you would support these misfortunes with the constancy of Job?' 'Of Thales, my dear friend, of Thales, if you please; do not confound them: For all events the wise man is prepared.' Thus said a poet who talked Greek, and not an Arab like your Job.' M. d'Herbois, proud of Thales, of himself, and of philosophy, proceeded to make careful preparations for the nuptials of his wellbeloved son; and already in his mind's eye beheld himself dandling his little grand-children that were to be. One morning he was about entering the apartment of Gustavus, for the purpose of consulting him on the purchase of some jewels, intended as a present for the bride. The chamber of the young man was situated at one end of the room of M. d'Herbois. The entrance to it was through this latter, and also by a private staircase, which allowed the young man to go in and out without disturbing any body. D'Herbois, just as he was about turning the handle of the glass door, the curtain of which was on his side, checked himself, on hearing the sound of voices. His son, he found, was not alone. 'Oh, ho!' thought he, Gustavus is perhaps bidding farewell to the bachelor's life. Can he be consoling some little beauty, who is reminding my young master of his broken vows?' He raised the corner of the curtain, and was a little tranquillized. |