honorary member of a news-room; had his coat whitened with cotton; and
was obliged to confess that he knew of no beverage that could equal
their superb cold punch. Our philosopher now gave himself up to despair;
but before returning to his own warm clime, he sought to discover the
reason of his finding the flesh creep, where he had deemed the spirit
would soar. He at length came to the conclusion that we are all slaves
to the world and to circumstances; and as, with his peculiar belief, he
could look on our sacred volume with the eye of a philosopher, felt
impressed with the conviction that the history of Babel's tower is but
an allegory, which says to the pride of man,

"'Thus far shall ye go, and no farther.'"

The Brahmin's adventures elicited much amusement. In a short time,
Selby was in a hot argument with the French novelist. Every now and
then, as the Frenchman answered him, he stirred his negus, and hummed a
translation of

"I'd be a butterfly."

"Erim papilio,
Natus in flosculo."




Chapter IV.

The Postman.