a part of some importance,--but I don't feel sure at all. His talk is
little in amount, and generally ends in some compact formula condensing
much wisdom in few words, as that a man, should not put all his eggs in
one basket; that there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of
it; and one in particular, which he surprised me by saying in pretty good
French one day, to the effect that the inheritance of the world belongs
to the phlegmatic people, which seems to me to have a good deal of truth
in it.

The other elderly personage, the old man with iron-gray hair and large
round spectacles, sits at my right at table. He is a retired college
officer, a man of books and observation, and himself an author. Magister
Artium is one of his titles on the College Catalogue, and I like best to
speak of him as the Master, because he has a certain air of authority
which none of us feel inclined to dispute. He has given me a copy of a
work of his which seems to me not wanting in suggestiveness, and which I
hope I shall be able to make some use of in my records by and by. I said
the other day that he had good solid prejudices, which is true, and I
like him none the worse for it; but he has also opinions more or less
original, valuable, probable, fanciful; fantastic, or whimsical, perhaps,
now and then; which he promulgates at table somewhat in the tone of
imperial edicts. Another thing I like about him is, that he takes a
certain intelligent interest in pretty much everything that interests
other people. I asked him the other day what he thought most about in
his wide range of studies.

--Sir,--said he,--I take stock in everything that concerns anybody.
Humani nihil,--you know the rest. But if you ask me what is my
specialty, I should say, I applied myself more particularly to the
contemplation of the Order of Things.