once in the top of a house in
the Rue St. Honore. He knew not a soul in the house nor in the
neighborhood. There was a German tailor below, who once made him a
pair of pantaloons,--so they were connected sartorically and
pecuniarily, and, when they met, recognized one another: and there was
the _concierge_ below, who knew when he came in and went out,--that
was all. All day long the deafened roar of carts and carriages, and
the muffled cry of the _marchands des legumes_, were faintly heard
from below. And in an adjoining room a female voice (my friend could
never tell whether child's or woman's, for he never saw any one)
overflowed in tones of endearment on some unresponding creature,--he
could never guess whether it was a baby, or a bird, or a cat, or a
dog, or a lizard, (the French have such pets sometimes,) or an
enchanted prince, like that poor half-marble fellow in the "Arabian
Nights." In that garret the painter experienced for six months the
perfection of Parisian solitude. Now I dare say he or I might have
found social sympathies, by hunting them up; but he didn't, and I dare
say he was to blame, as I should be in the same situation,--and I am
willing to place myself in the same category with the menagerie-loving
old lady, above referred to, omitting the feathered and canine pets.

As to my mesmerico-telegraphic discovery, it may pass for what it is
worth. I shall submit it at least to my cousin Moses, as soon as he
returns from the South. People may believe it or not. People may say
it may be of practical use, or not. I shall overhaul my terminologies,
and, with the "metaphysical aid" of my cousin, fit it with a
scientific name which shall overtop all the _ologies_.

Having dressed my new Fact in a respectable and scholarlike coat, I
shall let him take his chance with the judicious public,--and content
myself, for the present, with making him a sort of humble _colporteur_
of the valuable tract on Human Brotherhood of which I have herewith
furnished a few dry specimens.

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

The company looked a little flustered one morning when I came in,--so
much so, that I inquired of my neighbor, the divinity-student, what
had been going on. It appears that the young fellow whom they call
John had taken advantage of my being a little late (I having been
rather longer than usual dressing that morning) to circulate several
questions involving a quibble