world. What he may yet be, it is in vain to guess: he may
be all that is great and good, or--the reverse; but I cannot but believe
that his career is only begun. Such men are born monarchs of the mind;
they may be benefactors or tyrants: in either case, they are greater
than the kings of the physical empire, because they defy armies and
laugh at the intrigues of state. From themselves only come the balance
of their power, the laws of their government, and the boundaries
of their realm. We sat down to supper. "Count Hamilton," said
Boulainvilliers, "are we not a merry set for such old fellows? Why,
excepting Arouet, Milord Bolingbroke, and Count Devereux, there is
scarcely one of us under seventy. Where but at Paris would you see _bons
vivans_ of our age? _Vivent la joie, la bagatelle, l'amour_!"

"_Et le vin de Champagne_!" cried Chaulieu, filling his glass; "but what
is there strange in our merriment? Philemon, the comic poet, laughed at
ninety-seven. May we all do the same!"

"You forget," cried Bolingbroke, "that Philemon died of the laughing."

"Yes," said Hamilton; "but if I remember right, it was at seeing an ass
eat figs. Let us vow, therefore, never to keep company with asses!"

"Bravo, Count," said Boulainvilliers, "you have put the true moral on
the story. Let us swear by the ghost of Philemon that we will never
laugh at an ass's jokes,--practical or verbal."

"Then we must always be serious, except when we are with each other,"
cried Chaulieu. "Oh, I would sooner take my chance of dying prematurely
at ninety-seven than consent to such a vow!"

"Fontenelle," cried our host, "you are melancholy. What is the matter?"

"I mourn for the weakness of human nature," answered Fontenelle, with an
air of patriarchal philanthropy. "I told your cook three times about the
asparagus; and now--taste it. I told him not to put too much sugar,
and he has put none. Thus it is with mankind,--ever in extremes,
and consequently ever in error. Thus it was that Luther said, so
felicitously and so truly, that the human mind was like a drunken
peasant on horseback: prop it on one side, and it falls on the other."

"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Chaulieu. "Who would have thought one could have
found so much morality in a plate of asparagus! Taste this _salsifis_."

"Pray, Hamilton," said Huet, "what _jeu de mot_ was that you made
yesterday at Madame d'Epernonville's which gained you such applause?"

"Ah, repeat it, Count," cried Boulainv