When the Preceptor bore his bride away,
Their songs burst forth in joyous overflow,
And a new heaven bent over a new earth
Amid the sunny farms of Killingworth.

* * * * *

LITERARY LIFE IN PARIS.

THE GARRET.

Would you know something of the way in which men live in Paris? Would
you penetrate a little beneath the brilliant, glossy epidermis of the
French capital? Would you know other shadows and other sights than those
you find in "Galignani's Messenger" under the rubric, "Stranger's
Diary"? Listen to us. We hope to be brief. We hope to succeed in
tangling your interest. We don't hope to make you merry,--oh, no, no,
no! we don't hope that! Life isn't a merry thing anywhere,--least of all
in Paris; for, look you, in modern Babylon there are so many calls for
money, (which Southey called "a huge evil" everywhere,) there are so
many temptations to expense, one has to keep a most cool head and a most
silent heart to live in Paris and to avoid debt. Few are able
successfully to achieve this charmed life. The Duke of Wellington, who
was in debt but twice in his life,--first, when he became of age, and,
like all young men, _felt_ his name by indorsing it on negotiable paper,
and placing it in a tradesman's book; secondly, when he lived in Paris,
master of all France by consent of Europe,--the Duke of Wellington
involved himself in debt in Paris to the amount of a million of dollars.
Bluecher actually ruined himself in the city he conquered. The last heir
to the glorious name and princely estates of Von Kaunitz lost everything
he possessed, even his dignity, in a few years of life in Paris. Judge
of the resistless force and fury of the great maelstroem!

And I hope, after you have measured some degree of its force and of its
fury by these illustrious examples, that you may be softened into
something like pity and terror, when I tell you how a poor fellow, who
had no name but that he made with his pen, who commanded no money save
only that he obtained by transmuting ink and paper into gold, strove
against it with various success, and often was vanquished. You will not
judge him too harshly, will you? You will not be the first to throw a
stone at him, neither will you add your stone, to those that may be
thrown at him: hands enough are raised against him! We do not
altogether absolve him for many a shortcoming; but we crave permission
to keep our censure and our sighs for