Tableau. Chamouni. Mont Blanc in full view. Figures in the foreground; two of them standing apart; one of them a gentleman of--oh,--ah,--yes! the other a lady in a white cashmere, leaning on his shoulder.--The ingenuous reader will understand that this was an internal, private, personal, subjective diorama, seen for one instant on the background of my own consciousness, and abolished into black nonentity by the first question which recalled me to actual life, as suddenly as if one of those iron shop-blinds (which I always pass at dusk with a shiver, expecting to stumble over some poor but honest shop-boy's head, just taken off by its sudden and unexpected descent, and left outside upon the sidewalk) had come down in front of it "by the run."] --Should you like to hear what moderate wishes life brings one to at last? I used to be very ambitious,--wasteful, extravagant, and luxurious in all my fancies. Read too much in the "Arabian Nights." Must have the lamp,--couldn't do without the ring. Exercise every morning on the brazen horse. Plump down into castles as full of little milk-white princesses as a nest is of young sparrows. All love me dearly at once.--Charming idea of life, but too high-colored for the reality. I have outgrown all this; my tastes have become exceedingly primitive,--almost, perhaps, ascetic. We carry happiness into our condition, but must not hope to find it there. I think you will be willing to hear some lines which embody the subdued and limited desires of my maturity. CONTENTMENT. "Man wants but little here below." Little I ask, my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone, (A VERY PLAIN brown stone will do,) That I may call my own;-- And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten;-- If Nature can subsist on three, Thank heaven for three. Amen! I always thought cold victual nice;-- My CHOICE would be vanilla-ice. I care not much for gold or land;-- Give me a mortgage here and there,-- Some good bank-stock,--some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share;-- I only ask that Fortune send A LITTLE more than I shall spend. Honors are silly toys, I know, And titles are but empty names;-- I would, PERHAPS, be Plenipo,-- But only near St. James;-- I'm very sure I should not care To fill our Gubernator's chair. Jewels are baubles; 'tis a sin To care for such unfruitful things;-- One good-sized diamond in a pin,-- Some, NOT SO LARGE, in rings,-- A ruby and a pearl, or so, Will do for me;--I laugh at show. My dame should dress in cheap attire; (Good, heavy silks are never dear;)-- I own perhaps I MIGHT desire Some shawls of true cashmere,-- Some marrowy crapes of China silk, Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. I would not have the horse I drive So fast that folks must stop and stare An easy gait--two, forty-five-- Suits me; I do not care;-- Perhaps, for just a SINGLE SPURT, Some seconds less would do no hurt.