The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1857-08-12

! preston of a Frenchman's face is Otter,
as melancholy when he is by himself as j,
/ is lively in conversation. The instant he
ceases to talk, he becomes quite chop-fal-
[ lcn.'"
eft is strange" observed the philoso-
pher, how little this contradiction in then
/ character has been noticed. They have
neyerhad the credit of it, though it stares
one in the face everywhere. You cant
60 iuto one OF their theaters without being
struck by the silence and decorum that
reign throughout the audience, from the
scholar in the stalls to the workmen in the
galleries. ~
"This results i'll part, perhaps, from
their studious inclnations,' said the other.
'The French are fond of reading as well
as of talking. You may constantly see
girls tending an applestal in the coolest
day in winter, and reading Voltaire or
Racine. Such thing was never known
in London as barrow-woman reading
Shakespeare. Yet we talk of our wide
spread civilization and ample provisions
for the education of the poorw IS v
ITO be read thus by the lowliest. as well
as the loftiest, should be the highest am
bition of the poet" exclaimed the philos-
opher, enthusiastically. ,g"Do you not re-
member, William, during that pedestrian
excursion which you, Wordsworth, John
Chester, and / once made. from Neither
Stowev to Linton, we stayed at an old
fashioned inn near the Valley OF Rocks.
breakfasted deliciously. onrtea, toast, eggs
and honey, and found a little worn-ont
copy Of the Seasons lying in the window
seat? I took it up, and with q feeling
that cannot describeto you, exclaimed
aloud, THAT is true famep' ad3 I'D 2
eyes" replied the metaphysician, with
a sigh; 81 remember it perfectly. / was
but a lad at the time, and I listened as if
ina dream to every syllable that fell from
the lips of either Wordsworth or your
self. Fame, thought I, with sinking
heart-alas to me it is but word /
shall never possess it; yet viii Inever
cease to worship and pursue it.. AT that
time, Thought to be painter: and while
| lost myself in sdmiration of a. fairy
Claude, or hung enraptured over a Titan
dark with heantyI desnaired of The ner-.
fiction worshipped. And Twas right:
i should never have made painter" 1
His friend smiled, and shook his head.
"And yet" said he, "you are content, I
should think, with the share of renown
that has fallen to your lot. Do you still
hold that fame is but a word p l.asgy,a 8
81 hold it to be glorious reality re-
Piled the metaphysician ''but one which,
least of all others, should be defaced by
the petty considerations Of our worldly
vanities and selfish personalities. Fame
is the inheritance not Of the dead, but of
the living. 1t is we who look back with
lofty pride to1the great names ofiantiqui-
ty-who drink Of that flood of glory as Of
a river, and refresh our wings in it for flu
ture flight. Fame, to my thinking,
means Shakespeare, Homer, Bacon, Rap
hazel. Fame can attach itself only to the
past. Reputation is the property of the
prrsent. ,.,;- ,4 F,GT rvt na
"a subtle distinction" said the philos-
pher, emptying the last glass Of my Johan-
nisberser; "but one which,"
The doorgof the chamber opened.
"Your carriage, gentlemen, is. ready"
said the waiter. 9Aj o5 sfa9iihi87 gu -
I'VE all rose simultaneously. sw ,lla
81 am sure" said the philosopher, with
an air Of high-bred courtesy-'I am sure
we must have fatigued and interrupted
you, sir, in a mostunpardonable manner.
1 am ashamed and here heglanced re-
gretfully towards the empty bottle and
the comfortable fauoeuil- Ito have intru
ded so long upon your patience and your
hospitality; but if you should ever chance
to wander in the neighborhood of Neither
Stowey, Somersetshire, I will endeavor to
atone for my present thoughtlessness, by
making you acquainted with oar green
and hilly country, and our wild sea-shore.
Do not suppose that I say this through
forced politeness. invite few visitors, and
those | ask / welcome heartily. | am
but hermit in cottage, however, and
connot promise to give you such vintages
as this"
He took card from his waistcoat peck
ct and advancing with an undulating
step, laid it down beside me on the Ia
bic. + "a rTlbssYd sd97e dai8 hlgoaa gad1
"Samuel Taylor G oleridge" | exclainn-
ed, Involuntary, as my eyes fell on'the
superscription.
The philosopher extended his hand to
. You will not forget to come and see
me-" he said, "if you visit my country;
and trust you will forgive me for intro
ducing myself. 1t is a bad habit that
one acquires abroad-above all, when one
meets a fellow-Enghshman." s.
81 consider said /, s'that ! am indeb-
ted to Yorick for this piece Of good-for-
tune" and | pointed to the portrait over
the mantle-piece.
Coleridge plucked his companion by
the sleeve. si...m s.-1 SO m
"Co,ne, Hazlitt," he said, 1--WE have no
time to lose"
sHowl" Iexclairned-''it is possible
that-that your friend IS
siWilliam Hazlitt," replied the poet,
making thesmetaphysician known to me
with a serio-comic gesture--"Wllllam
Hazlitt, the dreaded critic-the redoubta-
bic reviewer-the terrible essayist
/ endeavored to stammer out some
thing appropriate as they took leave Of
me: but at that time was little used TO
society, and believe had never seen
real live author in my life before, SO fear
! / was not very successful,
: