rious examination. For example, there are few men of extraordinary
profundity who are found wanting in an inclination for the bottle.
Whether this inclination be an exciting cause, or rather a valid proof
of such profundity, it is a nice thing to say. Bon-Bon, as far as I can
learn, did not think the subject adapted to minute investigation;--nor
do I. Yet in the indulgence of a propensity so truly classical, it
is not to be supposed that the restaurateur would lose sight of that
intuitive discrimination which was wont to characterize, at one and the
same time, his essais and his omelettes. In his seclusions the Vin de
Bourgogne had its allotted hour, and there were appropriate moments for
the Cotes du Rhone. With him Sauterne was to Medoc what Catullus was to
Homer. He would sport with a syllogism in sipping St. Peray, but unravel
an argument over Clos de Vougeot, and upset a theory in a torrent of
Chambertin. Well had it been if the same quick sense of propriety
had attended him in the peddling propensity to which I have formerly
alluded--but this was by no means the case. Indeed to say the truth,
that trait of mind in the philosophic Bon-Bon did begin at length to
assume a character of strange intensity and mysticism, and appeared
deeply tinctured with the diablerie of his favorite German studies.

To enter the little Cafe in the cul-de-sac Le Febvre was, at the period
of our tale, to enter the sanctum of a man of genius. Bon-Bon was a man
of genius. There was not a sous-cusinier in Rouen, who could not have
told you that Bon-Bon was a man of genius. His very cat knew it, and
forebore to whisk her tail in the presence of the man of genius. His
large water-dog was acquainted with the fact, and upon the approach
of his master, betrayed his sense of inferiority by a sanctity of
deportment, a debasement of the ears, and a dropping of the lower jaw
not altogether unworthy of a dog. It is, however, true that much of this
habitual respect might have been attributed to the personal appearance
of the metaphysician. A distinguished exterior will, I am constrained to
say, have its way even with a beast; and I am willing to allow much
in the outward man of the restaurateur calculated to impress the
imagination of the quadruped. There is a peculiar majesty about the
atmosphere of the little great--if I may be permitted so equivocal an
expression--which mere physical bulk alone will be found at all times
inefficient in creating. If,