_I HAVE SEEN THE WORLD, AND MORE THAN THE WORLD: I HAVE STUDIED THE HEART OF MAN, AND NOW I CONSORT WITH IMMORTALS. THE FRUIT OF MY TREE OF KNOWLEDGE IS PLUCKED, AND IT IS THIS, ‘Adventures are to the Adventurous.’ Written in the Album of Minerva, by Ixion in Heaven._ ‘’Tis brief,’ said the Goddess, with a musing air, ‘but full of meaning. You have a daring soul and pregnant mind.’ ‘I have dared much: what I may produce we have yet to see.’ ‘I must to Jove,’ said Minerva, ‘to council. We shall meet again. Farewell, Ixion.’ ‘Farewell, Glaucopis.’ The King of Thessaly stood away from the remaining guests, and leant with folded arms and pensive brow against a wreathed column. Mars listened to Venus with an air of deep devotion. Euterpe played an inspiring accompaniment to their conversation. The Queen of Heaven seemed engrossed in the creation of her paper peacocks. Ixion advanced and seated himself on a couch near Juno. His manner was divested of that reckless bearing and careless coolness by which it was in general distinguished. He was, perhaps, even a little embarrassed. His ready tongue deserted him. At length he spoke. ‘Has your Majesty ever heard of the peacock of the Queen of Mesopotamia?’ ‘No,’ replied Juno, with stately reserve; and then she added with an air of indifferent curiosity, ‘Is it in any way remarkable?’ ‘Its breast is of silver, its wings of gold, its eyes of carbuncle, its claws of amethyst.’ ‘And its tail?’ eagerly inquired Juno. ‘That is a secret,’ replied Ixion. ‘The tail is the most wonderful part of all.’ ‘Oh! tell me, pray tell me!’ ‘I forget.’ ‘No, no, no; it is impossible!’ exclaimed the animated Juno. ‘Provoking mortal!’ continued the Goddess. ‘Let me entreat you; tell me immediately.’ ‘There is a reason which prevents me.’ ‘What can it be? How very odd! What reason can it possibly be? Now tell me; as a particular, a personal favour, I request you, do tell me.’ ‘What! The tail or the reason? The tail is wonderful, but the reason is much more so. I can only tell one. Now choose.’ ‘What provoking things these human beings are! The tail is wonderful, but the reason is much more so. Well then, the reason; no, the tail. Stop, now, as a particular favour, pray tell me both. What can the tail be made of and what can the reason be? I am literally dying of curiosity.’ ‘Your Majesty has cut out that peacock wrong,’ remarked Ixion. ‘It is more like one of Minerva’s owls.’ ‘Who cares about paper peacocks, when the Queen of Mesopotamia has got such a miracle!’ exclaimed Juno; and she tore the labours of the morning to pieces, and threw away the fragments with vexation. ‘Now tell me instantly; if you have the slightest regard for me, tell me instantly. What was the tail made of?’ ‘And you do not wish to hear the reason?’