"Poor Theophilus Girardière again deceived himself: -in imagining the mind to be unchangeable, he shewed his ignorance of the spirit of the age;-he never read the newspapers, he never talked politics, or he would have known that nothing is more versatile, more capricious than the mind! How many of our great men write to-day in one fashion, and to-morrow in another! How many barristers plead for and against the same side of the question! How many authors are gay to-day, sad to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow absurd! In like manner a woman may be amiable, when she is the object of universal solicitudewhen a single look is sued for as a favour; but the same woman becomes disagreeable, and even tiresome, when she no longer occupies attention;-a mere nothing irritates her, the least contrariety elicits sharp words, complaints, and recriminations!— Oh! trust not to the mind of a woman, unless there be a large fund of benevolence to temper and support it.

And can we trust to the heart?—No indeed!—the heart is, of all things we possess, the most traitorous, the most deceptive!we are far too often its slaves; when we think we direct it, we are swayed by its dictates!-when in all good faith we have bestowed it on a beloved one, are we not some fine morning surprised to find that it has given itself away to another!-when we rely on its firmness, it fails us; when we think it cold, it inflames!-when we wish to silence it, it speaks incessantly, in spite of us! We cannot then put any trust in the heart.

The soul alone remains, which every one defines after his own manner. Erasistratus lodges it in the membrane which envelops the brain; Hippocrates places it in the left ventricle of the heart; Epicurus and Aristotle pretend that it is in every part of the body; Empedocles and Moses believe it to be in the blood; Strabo will have it between the two eye-brows. Plato divides it into three parts-reason, in the brain; anger, in the breast; and voluptuous desires, in the entrails. The Greeks have talked a great deal about the soul: Parmenidas pretends that it is fire; Anaximander, water; Zeno, compounds it of the quintescence of the four elements; Heraclides, asserts it to be nothing but light; Xenocrates, a number; Thales, an ever acting substance, and Aristotle, an entelechy. Finally, according to the poet Mallebranche, we only know the soul by reason of the conscience!For which reason, perhaps, there are so many who can never arrive at the knowledge of what it really is.

Girardière determined to look out for a young lady, a widow, or even a dowager possessed of mind. "A woman of mind," thought he, "will not refuse me. All those who have rejected me have been fools-to begin with Madame Grandvillain, who had the folly to give the preference to her dog. Let me address myself to some one able to appreciate me, and as my revered and honoured mother says, my qualities and graces will receive due justice."

Theophilus recollected that he had formerly attended a soirée at the house of Madame de la Berlinguerie, and that Madame de la Berlinguerie had a daughter, called Arabella. This young person was early given out as likely to become a prodigy, a tenth muse, a Sappho, or at least a Scudery. At the age of six she composed a compliment without an a, for her papa's birthday; the following year she invented a compliment without an o for that of her mamma, and said sundry amiable things to her godfather without an u. From this, it was confidently expected that she would arrive at the art of speaking without employing any species of letter, which would doubtless have entitled her to be considered a very extraordinary person-though we have at Paris a marchant de nourolles, who expresses himself almost in a similar manner.

"During the four or five years that have elapsed since I saw Mademoiselle Arabella de la Berlinguerie, her mind must have necessarily expanded and embellished. How admirably we shall comprehend each other!-I am by no means a fool; I am even passably learned;-I, who, in my adolescence, wished to teach Latin to poor Tourloure, the cook!-If Mademoiselle Arabella be desirous of exercising her rhetoric or her humanities, I am precisely the man to suit her."

And in the evening, Girardière having concluded a more careful toilet than usual, for he recollected that at the house of Madame de la Berlinguerie the greatest ceremony reigned in all things,-directed his steps towards the Marais. The family of Mademoiselle Arabella resided in the rue des Trois-Pavillons. It consisted, first, of Monsieur de la Berlinguerie, a little old man of seventy, who passed the greater part of his existence in composing and divining logogriphs;-then the mother of Arabella: a woman of exceedingly diminutive height, so diminutive that her husband almost appeared tall by her side. Her lean but expressive countenance,-yellow eyes, shining like carbuncles,and extreme mobility of features, gave her the aspect of one of those little fairies, who can easily pop out of a piece of furniture and conceal themselves in a mushroom. Added to all this, Madame de la Berlinguerie held constantly in her hand, even in the house, to assist her in walking, an ivory-headed cane as long as a billiard queue, with which she struck the floor in her intervals of impatience; and you must not be surprised that Monsieur de la Berlinguerie, naturally of a pacific temperament, should stop in the middle of his phrases, and lose the thread of his discourse, on hearing the dreaded cane resounding on the carpet. Mademoiselle Arabella had been the first fruits of so well assorted an union; this young lady, who had just attained her twenty-third year, was taller in her own person, than her father and mother placed vertically the one above the other-(which the Bedouins would have termed a human pyramid).-Mademoiselle Arabella

was five feet six or seven inches in height, and her nose was perfectly in analogy with her stature, which must have greatly embarrassed her in the process of kissing. Her complexion was the colour of orange rind; her neck had something in common with that of an ostrich, and her deportment had much of the laisser aller of a giraffe; she was prodigiously lean; the least motion she made caused a fear lest some part of her should be broken. Every thing was pointed in this young lady, from her knee to her elbow, from her nose to her wit. The happy dispositions she had displayed in her infancy, had considerably developed themselves; it is true she employed both A's and O's in conversing-but how she conversed!

Arabella was not the only issue of the marriage of her respectable parents; a son also was born to them ten years later. This youth, whom they believed would rival if not surpass his sister, was christened Philéosinus. Hardly had he began to stutter two or three words, when his sister wished to teach him to express himself with elegance, his mother to say maman without an a, and his father to divine logogriphs. The little Philéosinus shewed himself particularly restive in all they attempted to teach him; he did not appear to possess any taste for the pretty phrases of his sister; he was continually asking for something to eat and drink, like a vile prolitaire, and did not even comprehend the nature of a charade. His relations were however obstinate in their endeavours; it was resolved that Monsieur Philéosinus should become a genius, and the little wretch was so teazed and tormented, that at eight years of age he became completely imbecile. But his parents did not consider themselves vanquished; they pretended the child was inspired, and it was apparently believed the educated world being much too polite to give the lie to individuals.

In this family poor Girardière thought of seeking for a wife; some persons would have pronounced this an act of despair, but he, looking at everything on the bright side, persuaded himself before-hand, that his union with the spiritual Arabella would certify the happiness of his life.

The Berlingueries inhabited an old house, whose walls blackened by time would almost have rivalled those of the Hotel Cluny. A large carriage door opened into an immense court, in which the grass was allowed with impunity to grow over the pathways. The porter lodged quite at the bottom of the court, so that, on entering the house, if the person you wanted to see happened to be out, you were compelled to walk twice the whole length of the court to ascertain it. This was especially agreeable when it rained, and you chanced to be without an umbrella. So much for the good old inventions of our ancestors, which the amateurs of the Gothic would think it impious to renounce.

Girardière descended from a cabriolet, being averse to come

on foot, because it was raining heavily; the pathways were dirty, and he feared to tarnish the lustre of his shoes. He payed the cabman, and knocked at the carriage door, which was a long time opening, giving Theophilus leisure to take the benefit of the rain. At last, the heavy portal turned upon its hinges; and after reclosing the gate, not knowing where the porter resided, it being the first time he had seen the house, which the family of the Berlingueries had only inhabited three years;-Girardière looked about him on all sides, and perceiving no one, began to fear he was mistaken. He directed by chance his footsteps towards a little low door which he perceived on his left;―he approached and called out, but receiving no answer, he pulled open the door, and found all silent and dark;-he proceeded several steps-his foot slipped, he fell, and rolling a few paces, perceived that he had tumbled into a cellar. Girardière got upon his feet cursing and swearing, and returned into the court. The rain fell faster and faster our marrying man was in an awful illhumour: the pathway of the court being almost entirely covered with grass, was infinitely slippery, and maugre the rain, it was necessary to walk with precaution, for fear of a second fall-Girardière in the middle of the court muttered to himself;

"What a singular house-it is like the castle in Beauty and the Beast-it is so gloomy that I can hardly believe I am in Paris. Where the devil does the porter conceal himself?-Ah! I think I perceive a light-provided it be not a will-o'-the-wisp -my tumble into the cellar has made me suspicious of everything in this house-I must proceed cautiously.

And Girardière directed his footsteps towards the light. He at last reached some buildings, and tapped at a small closed window.

"What are you about in the court!" cried a gruff voice :-"it is at least half an hour since I opened the door? What sort of behaviour is this-to knock at the door of a house, and then to go and hide yourself in the cellar ?"

"Hide myself in the cellar !" replied Girardière, entering the lodge for shelter;-" parbleu, porter, you are particularly amusing!-you!-I tumbled by accident into your cellar-where I might have endangered my life:-when snares are laid about premises, it is customary to give warning by placing torches to light those who may be going to visit the lodgers. I have very much injured my knee, which is extremely agreeable, since I shall be compelled to present myself limping!-But tell me first if Monsieur and Madame de la Berlinguerie are at home."

"Oh! sir, if you are going to Madame de la Berlinguerie !" said the porter, assuming a politer tone ;-" Oh! that makes it quite different. In that case, I ask your pardon for the mistake. You must know, sir, that in the Marais, there are crowds of little vagabonds, who spend the evening in playing the devil with all

the porters!-the young rascals! there is no end to the tricks they put upon us, the mischief they play us. Sometimes they knock at the carriage-door-we open and nobody is there; and we are obliged to get up and quit the lodge in order to shut the door;-at other times they come in, but only to commit nuisances in the court; and we are again obliged to leave the lodge in order to drive them away: we run out, armed with a whip! but when we think we have caught hold of them, they run away and laugh in our faces!-The young rogues! they will perish on the scaffold, to a certainty.-Sometimes-"

"Enough! porter, you shall tell me the rest another day.-Is there any company this evening with M. de la Berlinguerie ?"

"Yes, sir-oh! yes-there are a great many-a large party; it is their day of reception.-Four persons have already gone up, and a lady with a magic-lantern, which I think likely to be for the amusement of Monsieur Philéosinus; you know the little young gentleman, brother to Mademoiselle Arabella, who, according to report, is inspired.-Poor little fellow!-I can't make out what it is that inspires him in such a manner, but he passes his time in committing absurdities in this court!-He lets the buckets drop into the well-he throws stones at the windows-he shows his tongue to every body."

66

Well-well, porter, I have made myself a little more tidy :I can present myself now. Where is Madame de la Berlinguerie's lodging?"

"On the second floor, sir, the door to the left-besides, there is a stag's horn tied to the bell-rope."

"Enough-the horn will guide me."

Theophilus Girardière mounted the staircase, and arrived at the second floor, preceded by two whistles from the porter, which had already announced a fresh visitor to the family de la Berlinguerie. Our marrying hero perceived the stag's horn which replaced the handle of the bell-rope, seized and pulled it with a secret emotion, saying to himself:

"What a queer idea, to put a stag's horn at the door!-Assuredly when I am married, I will have a handle to the bell, which is infinitely preferable to a horn."

It was not long before he was admitted: he entered an apartment, remarkable alike for its vastness and the scantiness of its furniture. In the antechamber there was absolutely nothing; in the dining-room only two benches; in the bed-chamber of M. de la Berlinguerie, which was obliged to be traversed before arriving at the drawing-room, with the exception of the bed, nothing was visible but an ancient bureau and two arm-chairs: and to conclude, in the drawing-room itself, which Girardière did not delay entering, all that was to be seen, except an old sofa, consisted of precisely enough chairs to accommodate the whole society when complete, amounting to about fifteen individuals.