proposition of the first book of Euclid. It was he who, from his
profound knowledge of music, first discovered the music of the
spheres--a divine harmony, which, from its unbroken continuity, and
incessant play in the heavenly bodies, we are incapable of hearing."

"Where the deuce, then, is the use of it?" cried Captain Culverin; "it
must be a very odd kind of music which we cannot hear."

"The great Samian, sir, could hear it; but only in his heart and
intellect, and after he had discovered the truthful doctrine of the
metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls."

"The transmigration of soles; why, my dear sir, doesn't every fishwoman
understand that?" observed the captain. "Was the fellow a fisherman?"

"His great discovery, however, if mankind would only adopt it, was the
healthful one of a vegetable diet, carried out by a fixed determination
not to wear any dress made up from the skins or fleeces of animals that
have been slain by man, but philosophically to confine himself to
plain linen as I do. O Lord! this rheumatism will be the death of me.
Pythagoras was one of the greatest philosophers."

Here the doctor threw another glass of usquebaugh into the cup which
stood before the Pythagorean, which act, in consequence of his great
height and short sight, he did not perceive, but imagined that he was
drinking the well water.

"Philosopher," said Captain Culverin, "hob or nob, a glass with you."

"With pleasure, captain," said the Pythagorean, "only I wish you would
adopt my principles--a vegetable diet and _aqua pura_.

"Upon my credit," observed Father Mulrenin, "I think the _aqua pura_ is
the best of it. It is blessed water, this well water, and it ought to be
so, because the parson consecrated it. Hob or nob with me, Mr. Cooke."

"With pleasure, sir," replied Mr. Cooke, again; "and I do assure you,
Father Mulrenin, that I think the parson's consecration has improved the
water."

"Sorra doubt of it," replied the friar; "and I am sure the doctor there
will support me in the article of the parson's consecration."

"The great Samian," proceeded Cooke, "the great Samian--"

"My dear philosopher," said the facetious friar, "never mind your great
Samian, but follow up your principles and drink your water."

The mischievous doctor had thrown another glass into his cup: "Drink
your water, and set us all a philosophical example of sobriety."

"That I always do," said the philosopher, staggering a little; "tha