watches over you; Potts will be that friend, that brother, that should
have come to meet you! Sleep soundly, and with a head at ease. You are
neither friendless nor forsaken!'" I feel I must be naturally a creature
of benevolent instincts; for I am never so truly happy as when engaged
in a work of kindness. Let me but suggest to myself a labor of charity,
some occasion to sorrow with the afflicted, to rally the weak-hearted,
and to succor the wretched, and I am infinitely more delighted than
by all the blandishment of what is called "society." Men have their
allotted parts in life, just as certain fruits are meet for certain
climates. Mine was the grand comforting line. Nature meant me for a
consoler. I have none of those impulsive temperaments which make what
are called jolly fellows. I have no taste for those excesses which go
by the name of conviviality. I can, it is true, be witty, anecdotic,
and agreeable; I can spice conversation with epigram, and illustrate
argument by apt example; but my forte is tenderness.

"Is not this veal a little tough, waiter?" said I, in gentle
remonstrance.

"Monsieur is right," said he, bowing; "but if a morsel of cold pheasant
would be acceptable--mademoiselle, the lady in mourning, has just taken
a wing of it--"

"Bring it directly.--Oh, ecstasy of ecstasies! We are then, as it were,
supping together--served from the same dish!--May I have the honor?"
said I, filling ont a glass of wine and bowing respectfully And with an
air of deep devotion across the table. The pheasant was exquisite, and
I ate with an epicurean enjoyment. I called for another pint of Beaune
too. It was an occasion for some indulgence, and I could not deny
myself. No sooner had the waiter left me alone, than I burst into an
expansive acknowledgment of my happiness. "Yes, Potts," said I, "you are
richer in that temperament of yours than if you owned half California.
That boundless wealth of good intentions is a well no pumping can
exhaust. Go on doing imaginary good forever. You are never the poorer
for all the orphans you support, all the distresses you relieve. You
rescue the mariner from shipwreck without wetting your feet. You charge
at the head of a squadron without the peril of a scratch. All blessed be
the gift which can do these things!"

You call these delusions; but is it a delusion to be a king, to deliver
a people from slavery, to carry succor to a drowning crew? I have done
all of these; that is, I