while the other plays with the hair that has escaped from his hat, or caresses the whiskers; the feet reposing on the next chair. No longer does he echo the laugh caused by the good natured effusions of Copley, the erudite puns of Tom Raikes, or the thrice told bon-mots of Chin Grant; his place is vacant, and 'Oh no, they never mention him,' except to bet on the probable results of his disease. When the patient is seen, day after day, riding by the side of a particular carriage in the Park, and on Sundays escorting a particular lady at the Zoological Gardens, or riding in the retired parts of fashionable resorts, and always with the same 'fair and unexpressive she;' when he never leaves her at balls and routs, and looks sulky when other men approach her, the symptoms are decided, and nothing short of a visit to St. George's, Hanover square, that hospital for desperate love-cases, can offer relief, except it come in the shape of a special license, administered by some fashionable practitioner, in a private asylum, where a splendid dejeuné, white favors, orange flowers, with a veil which, like that torn aside by Psyche, is soon to destroy the last illusions of love, supply the place (and ah! how well,) of a cooing regime and a strait waistcoat, and soon bring the patient to his senses.

The symptoms of a man in debt, though they sometimes vary, are in general as follows;-A distaste to public streets; a shyness of being touched on the shoulder by friends; a habit of looking in at money-lenders; a recklessness of expense where ready money is not expected, and a strict economy where it is; a forced gaiety, with relapses into glooms that presage, if they do not betray, the secrets of a prison house : for these symptoms, a trip to Boulogne-sur-Mer is advisable, or a retirement to the purer air of the Surrey side of the Thames;-from which. last the patient comes forth, not only freed from debt, but from credit also.

When Ostentation attacks a man, the disease may be known by these symptoms: a love of show, fondness for great people, and shyness towards untitled and common-place acquaintances. A frequent reference to self, and a more than ordinary complacency, when dwelling on his own possessions. A philanthropic hospitality and generosity, to those who require neither, and a philosophic abstinence from both, to those who stand in need of them. For these symptoms there is but one cure, and that is difficult to obtain: let the patient be placed in a convenient, but unsuspected hiding place, at White's, Boodle's, Brooks', or Crockford's, where he may overhear the real opinions of his supposed friends and acquaintances, their comments on his house, dinners, and above all, on him; and if, after this, his distemper continues, he must be pronounced incurable.

When men who have been a year married, are seen at Melton cn garcon, at White's half the morning, and on the pavé the other half, in cabriolets or on horseback, and are to be found winding up their evenings at Crockford's, such symptoms of Conjugal Indifference leaveno longer any doubt as to the extent of the disease. For this malady,

which leads to so many others, there is but one remedy, a speedy retirement to Italy, where the attack subsides into a calm torpor, from the want of the excitements that England more than any other country affords, to relieve the tedium vita which the re-action of love produces. And from this torpor the patient gradually recovers, without any of the dangerous effects that so often follow the same cause at home. We recommend to our fair countrywomen, in particular, a strict attention to the above SYMPTOMS.

THE ST. SIMONIANS AT A FETE,

IN THE ENVIRONS OF PARIS.

Paris, Nov. 10. IMAGINE my stumbling upon a St. Simonian fête last Sunday, and in company, moreover, with a very devout friend. We had been paying a visit to Père Lachaise,-which, by the bye, is losing its beauty fast, at least to my eyes. The cypress-trees have grown up so tall and so thick, that the view, which used to be so charming, is every where shut out; whilst the flowers and ornamented tombs, which were wont to look so gay in the sun, are now completely thrown into a veritable sepulchral shade. The lofty mausolea of Foy, Massena, and their military brethren, still tower above the trees; but another year, if the axe or pruning-hook do not intervene, will consign them with the rest, to the shade of gloom, if not of oblivion.

Wandering around the environs of the cemetery, with the intention of dining, after the fashion of Parisian cockneys, hors barrière, we met the whole posse of St. Simonians, full forty in number, descending from their establishment at Menilmontant, in order, as it appeared, to dine and mingle with the popular crowd that fills the taverns and guinguettes of the outside boulevard every Sunday. We followed, to satisfy our curiosity; and they, seeing we were strangers, despatched a brother to invite us to fraternize. We acquiesced, and actually dined with these gentry,-paying our own écot however;—so that I can give you a full description of them.

Their dress, you are aware, is exceedingly picturesque, consisting of a short frock, or blouze of blue cloth (a blue-coat boy's frock, shortened and dandified). This, opened before, displays a white tunic. The neck is bare, the beard full grown, well combed, curled, and essenced. On my word, sitting at table with two score of beards wagging, had an odd effect upon me; one time I was seized with an invincible inclination to laugh-at another to believe myself in such banquetting scenes as old books and pictures tell of.

Enfantin, the chief, is hugely admired. He struck me as a model of that once admired but now exploded being, the Irish chairman. He is a lubberly, broad-shouldered fellow, and cuts a singular figure.

Enfantin has a bronzed, dull, handsome countenance, ‘aussi animal qu'un homme peut être,' observed a lady; and the sex may be allowed to pronounce judgment in these matters. From my observation, I can only assert, that he is superlatively bête and incapable of any other fanaticism than vanity. Upon some question as to the viands at table he replied, "We each live the life of proletaires at present, never expending more than twenty-five sous a day. I like the idea of an essenced gentleman, in superfine cloth, and a cashmere shawl round his neck, saying that he led the life of a workman at a shilling a day. On the breast of Enfantin's white tunic was embroidered the words Le Père. I scarcely dare to write, though I certainly remarked that this audacious fool endeavored to imitate, in dress, and aspect, and effected sauvity of manner, the traditional portraits and descriptions of the Saviour.

Yet there are clever men amongst the St. Simonians who swear by this presumptuous fool. Barrault, for example, was a professor of considerable talent, who, though married, gave up his situation and prospects, to enroll himself amongst the community. The ten chief members have contributed about 40007. a piece, which is the utmost of their means. The most singular convert amongst these is Fournel, an old élève of the Polytechnic school, and a man who was at the head of the iron mines of Creugot, the most considerable in France. He has sacrificed a full 10007. a year, besides 40007. to the society. On their trial, great stress was laid by them upon the conversion of this Fournel, a man of science, of habits positive rather than imaginative, -to use their terms, a man from nature and profession cold, calculating, and reserved. The assumption upon which this argument was founded, is, perhaps, entirely false; I doubt much, if it requires heat either of temperament or imagination, to become a fanatic. Personal vanity seemed to me the all-absorbing idea of Fournel, as of Enfantin. The latter, by the bye, was caisier, or treasurer of the Caisse Hypothecaire, a man of waste-book and ledger.-Tite last place where we should have looked for a self-announced prophet, is certainly the stool of a counting-house.

Duveyrier is another eminent member of the society. He is the most eloquent, and the truest fanatic. For Barrault, though he speaks well, is but a rhetorician. He has very little common sense or judgment, however, since it was his glowing eulogium upon the virtue, or at least the harmlessness, of carnal pleasures, that elicited from the jury a condemnation of a year's imprisonment. It was Duveyrier who headed the unsuccessful mission to England.

The most talented professor now lecturing in Paris is decidedly Lerminier. He was altogether a convert to the St. Simonians at one time, and was only preserved from taking the frock' by his friends, who, perforce, packed him off to Italy. A short tour there brought him to his senses. We had hoped, that these gentlemen would expound their doctrine, and so they did; for a dandy next me, explained very fully the different colors of their gay shawls, and gave the par

ticular reasons why each was worn. The tricolor they chiefly affect; why, think you?-in that it represents science, industry, and arts. The three colors should predominate in their dress. On asking why they did not, I was answered, that the trousers, hitherto white, are destined to be red, as soon as there are funds or credit for the purchase. Such are some of the serious dogmas of the St. Simonians.

After dinner, at least, thought we, there will be a preachment. No such thing. Our frocked and shawled companions descended to the dancing-garden, (a White Conduit House affair, bating the cleanliness) and there went through country dances with the easy damsels of the boulevard. In disgust and disappointment we departed.

HABITS OF ANIMALS.

It has been asserted, from of old, that the river falcon (Falco haliæetus, Linn.) seizes at times upon fish of so large a size, that he is unable to carry it away with him, and is dragged under water by his prey, and drowned. Nor is it an uncommon thing to find the skeleton of this bird adhering to fish, which inhabit those pieces of water, to which he resorts. But, says the celebrated German naturalist, Brehm, I never could succeed in obtaining a proof of the fact, until the autumn of 1825. On the 7th of October in that year, a countryman, who was walking near a pond, observed a large bird sitting on the edge of it: he approa hed the bird, and, to his great astonishment, found her pearched upon a fish of very large size, from which she could not extricate herself. He crept as gently as he could close up to her, and threw his stick at her with so much force, as to break one of her wings. He then killed her, but found it an extremely difcult task to disengage her claws from the gills of the captive fish. The falcon was a female, of the Pendion alticeps species, and I have given her a place in my collection, in common with a record of the extraordinary circumstances of her death. The same naturalist, when speaking of the wasp buzzard (Pernis, Cuvier), which draws out the sting of the insect before he swallows it, communicates an interesting extract from a letter, which he had received from a noble friend. was informed,' says Baron de Seyffertitz, that a large bird had been for some time sitting in my garden, hard at work. The next morning he returned to the spot as soon as it was light, and taking up my gun, I crept, under covert of a current bush, to within twenty paces of him. I now perceived that he was at work on a wasp's nest, which lay under ground, and laboring at it might and main. With a view to prevent too many wasps from coming out at a time, he closed the opening into the nest with one of his wings, sprung after the wasps, which were getting away with great nimbleness, beat them to the ground with his other wing, and then despatched them. He pursued this game until he had reached the nest itself; this he gradually pulled to pieces, devouring the poor insects as they turned up. My patience was by this time exhausted, and I shot him dead.' This, adds Brehm, is an incontrovertible proof, that the wasp buzzard, as well as the fox, dig up wasp's nests from below the surface, and are each, in their way, very useful animals.

I