e it for its
strangeness, and leave the reader to make of it what he can. We proceed
with a curious instance of mental absence:

Lessing, the German philosopher, being remarkably absent, knocked at his
own door one evening, when the servant looking out of the window, and not
recognizing him, said:

"The professor is not at home!"

"Oh, very well!" replied Lessing, composedly walking away; "I shall call
another time."

There is an anecdote of successful coolness, of earlier date, which will
serve very well to accompany the foregoing:

Charles II., after his restoration, appears, according to custom, to have
neglected his most faithful adherent, Lord St. Albans, who nevertheless
was a frequenter of the court. One day, when a gentleman had requested an
interview of his majesty to ask for a valuable office then vacant, the
king in jest desired the Earl of St. Albans to personate him, which he did
before the whole court; but, after hearing the stranger's petition with an
air of dignified authority, he said that the office was by no means too
great for so deserving a subject. "But," added the earl, gravely, "I have
already conferred it on my faithful adherent, Lord St. Albans, who
constantly followed my father's fortunes and my own, having never before
received any reward." The king was so amused by this ready jest that he
instantly confirmed the gift to his clever representative.

But we have yet a cooler thing (though somewhat different in character)
than either of the preceding to bring forward, and which, if true, is
really one of the strangest incidents that could happen in a man's
experience.

Barthe, a writer of French comedies, hearing that his intimate friend
Colardeau was on the point of death, instantly hastened to the sick man's
chamber, and finding him still in a condition to listen, addressed him
thus:

"My dear friend, I am in despair at seeing you in this extremity, but I
have still one favor to ask of you; it is that you will hear me read my
'Homme Personnel.'"

"Consider," replied the dying man, "that I have only a few hours to live."

"Alas! yes; and this is the very reason that makes me so desirous of
knowing what you think of my play."

His unhappy friend heard him to the end without saying a word, and then in
a faint voice, observed, that there was yet one very striking feature
wanted to complete the character which he had been designing.

"You must make him," said he, "force a friend who