of the profession, but in truth they are all actresses, and can play any part which their immediate interest suggests. They can be gay or pensive, savagely jealous or blindly indifferent, according to the tastes of their temporary friends; they know how to disarm suspicion, or to excite jealousy, according as either course is the more expedient. In short, they lead a man whither they will, by successful appeals to his vanity. And therefore, in a great measure, it is that they have attained their position in France, elsewhere unattainable; for your Frenchman is the vainest of men; and though sharp enough to cheat others, may be cheated himself with equal ease, when you have once found the corde sensible whereby to play on his vanity. This explains, too, why Young America is victimized by the same class to such an extent; for the American, though less afflicted with vanity than the Frenchman, has a good deal in comparison with some other nations.

Thompson's stay in Paris, though short, had been long enough to entangle him. The original name of the lady above referred to as 'Mrs. Thompson,' was probably lost in obscurity; but she was known to the gay world as Mademoiselle Amanda.

No doubt, reader, however philosophic you may be, it has happened to you once in your life to fidget about some essentially unimportant matter, until, by mere dint of fidget, it became of the greatest importance to you. So it was now with Robinson. He could not rest till he had 'spotted' the handkerchief. Up to a certain point he had traced it, and Mlle. Amanda might have appropriated a coronet just for fun, as ladies of her class sometimes do; but the initials were as far as ever from being accounted for. Perhaps he would have ended by absolutely calling on her to ask for an explanation, though quite conscious that such a step would be possibly compromising and probably ridiculous, when another lucky accident suggested to him another way. He received an invitation from Wilkinson to attend his housewarming.

Wilkinson was a gay young bachelor, who had just left that rendez-vous of gay young bachelors, the Hotel des Princes, for furnished apartments. Oh! if his Presbyterian father and his Congregational aunt

could have seen the kind of house-warming he was going to give, and the sort of celebrities who were to assist' at it!

Nevertheless, you may accompany us thither for a short time without fear of being shocked; for there will be some green Americans present, and to make a proper impression on them, appearances will be preserved, at least, till after supper. It looks pretty much like any small ball, where there is a good deal of energetic dancing, considerably more polka than quadrille.

It has sometimes occurred to me that if the ladies -the real ladies who cultivate so assiduously the worship of Terpischore, as developed in the modern rites of waltz, polka, schottisch, &c., could know, even approximately, the stamp of dissipation which these amusements bear in their origin and associations; what a place they occupy in the fast life of Paris, how far excellence in them goes to give reputation and success in what the French call thirteenth-ward society, (farther, probably, than any thing except the musique à la Marco, the jingle of the almighty coin,) how generally the young man's initiation into the mysteries of the light fantastic at Cellarius' or Laborde's goes hand in hand with his initiation into vice and profligacy if they knew these things, perhaps they would not be so rapturously fond of or so exclusively devoted to this particular sort of relaxation. But of course our ladies don't know these things. How should they? Perhaps it is very shocking in me even to hint at them.

The

The male portion of the company is not wholly made up of Americans. By no means. Beside some other foreigners, Spaniards or Italians, there are numerous natives. Most of these wear orders. You must not suppose they have not a perfect right to do so. Decorations are cheap in these parts. It is not necessary to do any thing very great, or even any thing very bad, to get one. Legion of Honor is a pretty good-sized army in itself, say fifty thousand. You shall see a man with some thirty-six stars and ribbons. He keeps a box full of them, about as big as a good-sized trunk, and delights to pull them out and show them to his acquaintance on small provocation, like a child exhibiting his toys. Yet this man positively never did any one remarkable

thing in his life. He did n't even shoot any of the townsnobs (bourgeois) in that little affair of December 1851. But once he was sent to a duke's wedding. and another time to a king's funeral, and another time he travelled with a prince's mistress, and on each of these òccasions some body sent him a decoration.

Robinson, however, was not looking for any one of these decorated gentlemen, nor for any of the otherwise decorated ladies. He was seeking a compatriot, one Johnson, a middle-aged bachelor, who had been much behind the scenes, literally as well as metaphorically. Johnson was perfectly posted up in all the chronicles of scandal and gallantry for the last fifteen years; could tell you how many men La Belle Henriette had ruined, and what hospital she died in, and whom Prince Rubleskoi had patronized after he quarrelled with Mlle. Sauterelle of the Grand Opera. There are people who call this sort of statistics knowledge of the world, and regard those who are ignorant of them as uneducated simpletons.

"Good-evening!' says Robinson, 'I heard from our young friend Thompson the other day. He has n't forgotten the fair Amanda yet.' ('Should n't think he would!' parenthesized Johnson.) I was to present his remembrances to her, but she does n't seem to be here to-night.'

'No; the Duke has as little private spree of his own going on to-night somewhere.'

'The Duke?"

'Yes; the serious man, since Thompson left.'

What had serious men to do with Miss Amanda ? Reader, l'homme serieur is the one who pays the expenses, and a very serious thing it is, as may you never learn by experience.

'But what Duke ?' persisted Robinson.

'Why, the man with the very black whiskers Castelfondu.'

Robinson fairly clapped his hands for joy. He had accounted for the milk in the cocoa-nut this time. Evidently the Duke had given some of the Duchess' handkerchiefs to Amanda. Delighted at having attained this satisfactory conclusion, he ran off home immediately, yet not time enough to escape the notice of the Sewer reporter,

who was present, disguised as a French waiter, and who gave him a prominent place in his next letter.

Whether Mrs. Robinson ever explained the matter to the Duchess, or whether she even sent her back her handkerchief, I really do not know. Like Robinson after he made the discovery, and story-tellers generally 'I came away then.'

THE GREEN MONSTER.

- A TEM

PERANCE TALE.

Translated for the Literary World, from the French of Gérard de Nerval, and respectfully dedicated to the T-totallers of Armerica.

April 1853.

I. THE DEVIL'S CASTLE.

DIFFERENT evil spirits are known to have different localities.

The devil Vauvert is essentially an inhabitant of Paris; he has resided there for several centuries, if the historians are to be believed. Sauval, Felibien, Sainte-Foix and Delacroix have told us of his pranks at length.

He appears at first to have inhabited Castle Vauvert, which was situated on the very spot now occupied by the merry Chartreuse ball; that is to say, at the end of the Luxembourg, and opposite the alleys of the Observatory.

This castle, of sad reputation, was partly demolished, and its ruins became out-houses and offices to the convent of Chartreux, in which convent Jean de la Lune, nephew of the anti-pope Benedict XIII., died in 1414. Jean de la Lune was suspected of holding intercourse with a certain devil, probably the familiar spirit of the old Castle Vauvert, for each of these feudal edifices had its familiar spirit, as is well known. History, however, has left us no positive information on this interesting point. But the devil Vauvert made himself talked about again in the time of Louis XII.

For a long time there was heard every night a great noise in a house constructed of the ruins of the old convent, and deserted by its owners several years previous.

The neighbors, in a great fright, applied to the lieutenant of police, who sent some archers. What was the astonishment of these soldiers, on their arrival, to hear the clinking of glasses, mingled with boisterous laughter!

The first supposition naturally was, that some robbers or coiners were holding an orgie, and, judging of their number from the noise they made, it was deemed prudent to send for a reinforcement. But the noise seemed to increase with the arrival of the new squadron; and the sergeants were in no hurry to lead their troops into this den, where they heard disturbance enough to have been the work of a whole army.

At last, about morning, a sufficient body of troops arrived. They entered the house just as its obscurest corners were lighted up by the rays of the rising sun. Nothing was to be seen, and all was silent!

The examination lasted all day. When every part of the premises above ground had been ransacked, some one suggested that the noise might have come from the cellar. The catacombs were in this quarter, and there might very possibly be a communication.

But while the police were preparing to act upon the hint, night set in again, and the noise recommenced louder than ever.

Some of the soldiers, however, had previously looked into the cellar and discovered nothing there but bottles. "It must be the devil that has set them a dancing," said they; and no one dared to descend and disturb his Satanic Majesty's amusement.

The authorities contented themselves with occupying the approaches to the street and asking the prayers of the clergy.

The clergy prayed to any extent, and even squirted a large amount of holy water into the cellar through the trap-door.

The noise went on all the same.

II. THE SERGEANT.

During a whole week the neighborhood was blocked up by a crowd of citizens, half frightened and half curious.