SYMPOSIUM 



CHAPTER II 



PART II 



A few more whiffs from my cigar 

 And then in Fancy's airy car 



Have with thee to the skies. 

 How oft the fragrant smoke upcurl'd 

 Hath borne me from this little world 

 And all that in it lies. 



THOMAS HOOD. 



LIKE a sun-gleam seen through a Scotch mist the hoary 

 head and set visage of the veteran thinker, Thomas Carlyle, 

 appears. As a persistent preacher of the gospel of silence 

 he will himself talk and talk on, seemingly oblivious to its 

 application to himself. Turning to his friend, Dr. Calvert, 

 he asks, ' Why are we here ? Really, I think it shocking 

 that we should run to Rome, to Greece, and leave all at 

 home lying buried in nonentity. Were I supreme chief 

 there should be a resurrection of the old English ages. 

 I will pit Odin against Jupiter, and find sea-kings that will 

 put Jason to shame. Ah, tobacco ! It is one of the 

 greatest benefits that ever came to the human race. 

 Nobody ever came near me whose talk was half so good 

 as silence with my pipe. I would fly out of the way of 

 everybody, and would much rather smoke a pipe of 



