Bon-Bon—A Tale [pp. 693-698]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
his visiter's remark, imparted to his manner an air of
embarrassment which might not probably have other wise been observable.
"Why, sir,"-said the philosopher-" why, sir, to
speak sincerely-I believe you are-upon my word the d dest-that is to say I think-I imagine-I have
some faint-some very faint idea-of the remarkable
honor "
"Oh!-ah!-yes!-very well!"-interrupted his ma jesty-" say no more-I see how it is." And hereupon,
taking off his green spectacles, he wiped the glasses
carefully with the sleeve of his coat, and deposited them
in his pocket.
If Bon-Bon had been astonished at the incident of
the book, his amazement was now increased to an in tolerable degree by the spectacle which here presented
itself to view. In raising his eyes, with a strong feel ing of curiosity to ascertain the color of his guest's,
he found them by no means black, as he had antici pated-nor gray, as might have been imagined-nor yet
hazel nor blue-nor indeed yellow, nor red-nor pur ple-nor white-nor green-nor any other color in the
heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters
under the earth. In short Pierre Bon-Bon not only saw
plainly that his majesty had no eyes whatsoever, but
could discover no indications of their having existed at
any previous period, for the space where eyes should
naturally have been, was, I am constrained to say,
simply a dead level of cadaverous flesh.
It was not in the nature of the metaphysician to for bear making some inquiry into the sources of so strange
a phenomenon, and to his surprise the reply of his
majesty was at once prompt, dignified, and satisfactory.
"Eyes! —my dear Bon-Bon, eyes! did you say?-oh!
ah! I perceive. The ridiculous prints, eh? which are
in circulation, have given you a false idea of my personal appearance. Eyes!!-true. Eyes, Pierre BonBon, are very well in their proper place-that, you
would say, is the head-right-the head of a worm.
To you likewise these optics are indispensable-yet I
will convince you that my vision is more penetrating
than your own. There is a cat, I see, in the cornera pretty cat!-look at her!-observe her well. Now,
Bon-Bon, do you behold the thoughts-the thoughts, I
say-the ideas-the reflections-engendering in her pericranium?
There it is now!-you do not. She is thinking we
admirethe profundity of her mind. She has just concluded that I am the most distinguished of ecclesiastics,
and that you are the most superfluous of metaphysicians. Thus you see I am not altogether blind: but
to one of my profession the eyes you speak of would
be merely an incumbrance, liable at any time to be put
out by a toasting iron or a pitchfork. To you, I allow,
these optics are indispensable. Endeavor, Bon-Bon, to
use them well-my vision is the soul."
Hereupon the guest helped himself to the wine upon
the table, and pouring out a bumper for Bon-Bon, requested him to drink it without scruple, and make himself perfectly at home.
"A clever book that of yours, Pierre"-resumed his
majesty, tapping our friend knowingly upon the shoulder, as the latter set down his glass after a thorough
compliance with this injunction.
"A clever book that of yours, upon my honor. It's
a work after my own heart. Your arrangement of mat ter, I think, however, might be improved, and many of
your notions remind me of Aristotle. That philosopher
was one of my most intimate acquaintances. I liked
him as much for his terrible ill temper, as for his happy
knack at making a blunder. There is only one solid
truth in all that he has written, and for that I gave him
the hint out of pure compassion for his absurdity. I
suppose, Pierre Bon-Bon, you very well know to what
divine moral truth I am alluding."
"Cannot say that I-"
"Indeed!-why I told Aristotle that by sneezing
men expelled superfluous ideas through the proboscis."
"Which is-hiccup!-undoubtedly the case"-said
the metaphysician, while he poured out for himself
another bumper of Mousseux, and offered his snuff-box
to the fingers of his visiter.
"There was Plato too"-continued his majesty,
modestly declining the snuff-box and the compliment "there was Plato, too, for whom I, at one time, felt all
the affection of a friend. You knew Plato, Bon-Bon? ah! no, I beg a thousand pardons. He met me at
Athens, one day, in the Parthenon, and told me he was
distressed for an idea. I bade him write down that
" o nous estin augos." He said that he would do so, and
went home, while I stepped over to the Pyramids. But
my conscience smote me for the lie, and, hastening back
to Athens, I arrived behind the philosopher's chair as
he was inditing the'augos.' Giving the gamma a fillip
with my finger I turned it upside down. So the sen tence now reads'o nous estin aulos,' and is, you per ceive, the fundamental doctrine of his metaphysics."
"Were you ever at Rome?"-asked the Restaurateur
as he finished his second bottle of Mousseux, and drew
from the closet a larger supply of Vin de Chambertin.
"But once, Monsieur Bon-Bon-but once. There
was a time"-said the devil, as if reciting some passage
from a book-'there was an anarchy of five years
during which the republic, bereft of all its officers, had
no magistracy besides the tribunes of the people, and
these were not legally vested with any degree of executive power'-at that time, Monsieur Bon-Bon-at
that time only I was in Rome, and I have no earthly
acquaintance, consequently, with any of its philosophy."*
"What do you think of Epicurus?-what do you
think of-hiccup!-Epicurus?"
"What do I think of whom?"-said the devil in astonishment-" you cannot surely mean to find any
fault with Epicurus! What do I think of Epicurus!
Do you mean me, sir?-I am Epicurus. I am the same
philosopher who wrote each of the three hundred treatises commemorated by Diogenes Laertes."
"That's a lie!"-said the metaphysician, for the
wine had gotten a little into his head.
"Very well!-very well, sir!-very well indeed,
sir"-said his majesty.
"That's a lie! "-repeated the Restaurateur dogmatically-" that's a-hiccup!-lie!"
"Well, wel'! have it your own way"-said the
devil pacifically: and Bon-Bon, having beaten his majesty at an argument, thought it his duty to conclude a
second bottle of Chambertin.
* Ils ecrivaient sur la Philosophie (Cicero, Lucretius, Senecaj
mais c'etait la PhjJsophie Gr,cque.-Coadorcet.
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