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never dreamed of hoping to see one! As soon as I could, I ran out to the verge of the platform, and I shall never forget the sight. It was worth any inconvenience and disappointment. We forgot the dripping tent, from which little rills ran upon our bedsteads; we forgot the lost hours of this last day, and our damp wardrobes, and all our discomforts. There was the muddy torrent—or rather the junction of two torrents, which divided the channel between them for some way - the one which had come from the Sik, and passed the theatre, being muddy, and the other, from the north-east, being clear. On came the double stream, bowing and waving the tamarisks and oleanders- the late quarters of the Arabs, who were now looking on from the opposite bank! Just before sunset I went to look again. The white water-falls were still tumbling from the steeps; and the whole scene was lighted up by a yellow glow from the west, where the sky was clearing. The torrent was still dashing along, making eddies among the stones; and beyond it, in a thicket, under a wall of rock, was a group of Arabs round a fire, whose smoke curled up among the trees. night, I went out once more; and that was the finest of all. The torrent was too deep within its banks to be touched by the moon, which was now shining brightly. The waters could scarcely be seen, except in one spot, where they caught a gleam from an Arab fire. But at this hour, its rush seemed louder than ever. I was startled to see how many were looking at it with me. All along the opposite ridge, and on every point of the descent, were dim figures of Arabs; and in the precipice there was quite an illumination. Row beyond row of the caves gave out yellow gleams; and in the moonlight rose little pillars and wreaths of white smoke. The Arabs had come up from the whole country round, at the sound of the waters; and I had seen Petra pop

ulous once more."

At

They met with one sad illustration of the rapidity with which the monuments of Petra are crumbling away. When a few centuries more have passed, history and tradition may afford the only traces of the multitudes who once dwelt there, except their cave-houses in the rocks, which will tell nothing regarding the progress of their old inhabitants in arts and science.

Petra was by what we see now. It is natural to suppose a sort of immutability in a rock fastness like this; but we see here how much depends on the structure of the rock, and the influences which operate upon it. The forces of wind and water are great at Petra; and the presence of oxyde of iron here, as of saltpetre in the columns at Karnac, seems to insure the fall of works which would appear likely to greet as many generations as the everlasting hills.

"I again went out at night, and saw the fires of the Arabs, even in some very distant caves. But instead of clear moonlight, there were clouds driving in the cold rising wind. I lingered over this night view; for it was the last. In the morning we were to be off; and the most romantic vision of the travels of my life would be withdrawn."

We have seldom met a more diversified work than "Eastern Life, present and past." It has two divisions-the life present is a pleasant book, calculated to convey clear impressions of scenery and society in Egypt, in Syria generally, and especially in Palestine; that section of the work is a valuable contribution to our oriental literature; but "life past" is full of crude and vague conjectures-put forward and reasoned from as proved and incontestible facts, or of doubts thinly veiled; and clouded statements that may bear any interpretation, but seem designed to cast discredit over ecclesiastical history as generally received. Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.

AN ITALIAN UMBRELLA. A Roman torrent

is a very different thing from an English shower. You put up your umbrella; it is laid flat upon your head in an instant. The flimsy Parisian article is viewed with contempt by the Italian people. The native carries (when apprehensive of rain, which may continue three days without cessation) a ponderous machine, which, when opened, resembles a little tent suspended in the air, under which he walks securely. The construction of the Italian umbrella is simple enough, a mass of oiled calico is attached to a stout pole; and this, when spread, resists the torrent wonderfully. In a short time the spouts begin to play, the jets d'eau of modern Rome. I think these spouts have been dexterously contrived to aid in washing the streets, a process the natives would perish rather than undertake. These ducts are about two feet long, and pro

"In the evening, Mr. W. came to give us the result of his visit to the Greek inscription. It was soon told. The whole façade had fallen brought down, no doubt, by the rains of yesterday! When the party arrived, they found the way blocked up by masses of stone: and the guides were aghast at the ruin. It was well for us, and more than we could have expected, that they did not attribute the mischief to the project from the roofs of the houses; through fanation of our visit, and take vengeance on us accordingly. Mr. W. searched, and found a bit of the inscription: but as a whole, it is irrecoverable. That far-famed work is gone for ever! This is a warning to us not to judge of what

such spouts the water is made to spin into the middle of the street with admirable effect, for no deposite can withstand its power.- Whiteside's Italy in the Nineteenth Century.

MEMOIRS OF JEROME PATUROT.

Memoirs of Jérome Paturot — [Mémoires de | this branch of his business the title of "PaintJérome Paturot. Patenté Electeur et Eli-er in Ordinary of his Majesty." Finding that gible]. By Louis Reybaud. Paris.

These volumes contain what may be called the "Grandeur et Décadence" of the fortunes of Jérome Paturot. They who have followed with interest his early struggles in his "Search for a Social and Political Position," and seen how, through many vicissitudes and perils, he finally obtained shelter "under a cotton nightcap," will have perhaps imagined that he had nothing further to do than live content and enjoy the satisfactory condition at which he had arrived, as head of a flourishing hosiery establishment in the French capital.

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But the desire of fame is insatiable. He who has begun to whisper secrets into the ear of the public, is pretty sure to continue his confidence and accordingly, M. Paturot here takes up the pen to communicate, in autobiographical fashion, his experience of public and private life, under what now appears the remote historical period of the reign of the Citizen King.

they agree admirably on all esthetical subjects, the too confiding Jérome Paturot introduces the painter to his house, where the latter speedily established himself as an inmate :and now farewell the tranquil mind!" The insidious Oscar suggests to Jérome that he marvellously resembles Napoleon; assists him to win his election as Captain of the National Guard; and thence tempts him step by step on to a giddy height, where the hosier's shop, on which the whole glittering fabric rests, becomes invisible. Behold him at length a guest, the most loyal of guests, at the table of the Citizen King.

Even now, when all my illusions have fled, there is something soothing and consoling in the remembrance of those illustrious banquets those incomparable gravies. A certain class of pamphleteers have been pleased to throw out insinuations against the style in which the royal table was served, and to devise all sorts of detestable pleasantries on the subject. Now, I am not partial to the use of torture- I have none Ambition, that glorious fault by which the of the blood of Nero or the gall of Marat in my angels fell, is still busy at the heart of Jérome. composition; but I must say, I could with pleasIt first manifests itself, innocently enough, in they once approached the table which they thus the improvement and decoration of his shop-depreciate had they but once moistened their in making the old signboard give place to a new, nutwood to mahogany, oil to gas, &c.; and then urges him to a step more equivocal, the dismissal of his old shopmen, for others"in the flower of their youth and with the most fashionable beards."

Madame Paturot is a genius. Not only has she "developed the flannel waistcoat from its rudimentary condition and brought it into harmony with the human form," but she has worked wonders in the art of stuffing, and furnished the gods and goddesses of the Opera with whatever is requisite for the perfection of their contour. The connoisseur who worships the beauty of outline exhibited in the Ballet, dreams not of what he owes to the talents of Madame Paturot and the virtues of wadding.

ure see these villains ascend the scaffold. * Had

throats with that velvet Burgundy and that incomparable Lafitte had they studied those roasts, and those side dishes, reviewed the game, and the poultry, and the fish-investigated the with the sweetmeats-I could but pity their hors d'œuvres, and rendered themselves familiar want of taste and of natural sensibility. But they cannot entrench themselves behind the natural depravity of their organs for they know not the dishes that they calumniate. They have never tasted-nay, not so much as smeltthe dainties that they thus pursue with their execrable jokes. And this-this is the way in which history is written!

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The organ of veneration is, as our readers perceive, finely developed in M. Paturot; and his devotion is rewarded by the still higher honor of an invitation to a ball at the Tuileries. After many lessons from the painter "of the hairy school," and many dressed rehearsals of the part which he would have to play at court,

Ministering thus at once to the useful and the agreeable, Monsieur Paturot is progressing rapidly on the road to fortune, when he meets with his Mephistopheles in a certain Oscar, an artist of the "hairy school," who exhibits miseries. It was ten o'clock at night, and the The day of the fête arrived, and with it fresh landscapes resembling poached eggs and spin-hair-dresser had not arrived for my wife, and I ach, and paints portraits ad infinitum of Louis Philippe for the delight of the then loyal communes of France-assuming with reference to

was still expecting my shoes. Servant after servant was sent off to hasten the loiterers. At length, after many vexations and explosions of

impatience, at eleven o'clock we set out. But we were not yet at the end of our troubles. To arrive at the Carrousel, it was necessary to fall into the line at the end of the Rue Rivoli. The carriages were crawling slowly on, and the sky was pouring down a torrent on the pavement. The length of the queue was enormous; and I was on the point of telling my coachman, in despair, to drive home again, when we perceived the flight of steps that was to bring us into port. The staircase was as crowded as the steeet. We ascended slowly, step by step, and soon found of how little service our preliminary studies were likely to prove in practice. Swords crossed, and trains got entangled in the legs of the cavaliers with a sort of wilful obstinacy. Before we had reached so much as the door of the

apartments, we were already rumpled and spoilt; but at length, by the exertions of the attendants and some movements of the elbows, we made our way to the grand saloon where the king and queen were standing. I had bestowed infinite pains on the preparation of my bow. I executed it most happily, and added a "Sire!" the intonation of which was perfect. But when I raised my head to enjoy my triumph, his Majesty had turned his back, and was talking to some ambassador from the North. That "back" poisoned the fête to me.

On consideration, however, Jérome's loyalty is proof against this disappointment. He considers that Majesty has to perform three thousand salutations, succeeding each other "as fast as the strokes of the piston in a steam engine"; and instead of resenting the neglect of his "Sire," he begins to pity royalty thus condemned to hard labor, and to marvel at the gift of perpetual smiles which Heaven has granted to royal muscles.

And when I watched the passage of those furbelowed dowagers and foolish peers, the faces fat and lean, wrinkled and toothless, imbecile

his epaulettes-for he has become chief of his battalion-and with the industrial by his shop, commission sitting to inquire into the state of he is summoned to give evidence before a the French Manufactures; and has an opportunity, thus, of proving that his patriotism is as sound as his loyalty. His political economy is exemplary.—

aco.

There are in political economy two schools: one of which I shall call the humanitarian, to show my contempt of it-the other is the French school. The humanitarian school is sold to the foreigner. It delights in the cachemires of India, the mackintosh of England, the furs of Siberia, the hemp of Russia, the iron of Sweden, the dates of Barbary, the oranges of Monnot hesitate to clothe and feed and warm themSouls devoid of nationality! They would selves with the produce of a foreign soil. They can of course find specious pretexts enough. They pretend that we should accept that which that what is found best and cheapest should have is good from whatever quarter it may comethe preference in the market. It is not thus that the French school reasons. That school would wear drugget instead of cloth, to encourage the manufactures of our own country-would even consent to buy drugget dearer than cloth. Such is its devotion, that it considers French chicory superior to Mocha coffee, and would American quinine. rather give a fever patient French arsenic than

In the midst of his peroration in favor of these noble-minded economists, M. Paturot ist troubled by the recollection of certain bales of British flannel to be found in his warehouse. But what can he do?-this is obviously his customers' fault. His examination before the Commissioners presents a tempting opportunity for making a speech, and gaining a little literary reputation.—

Answer.-Woollen fabrics are, as their name implies, derived from the spoils of flocks; and in this sense the question concerns at once manufactures and agriculture. From the point of view from which I regard it, I should say it was commercial also. Agriculture, commerce, and manufactures are, therefore, all interested in the woollen fabric. In going back to the most remote periods of history, we find the same phenomenon. The capitularies of Charlemagne, the edicts of Sully, bear witness to the fact.

and vulgar, that followed in an interminable file, Question by the Commissioner.What have I wondered that any human head could avoid you to say, M. Paturot, on the subject of woolturning at the spectacle, and the suffocating heat len fabrics? Consult your experience and and the mingling of a thousand odors. The your memory. eye was bewildered in a maze of jewels and plumes, and ribbons and epaulettes, and bare bosoms and shoulders, and lace and embroidery, and stars and orders, and German eagles and English garters-moving perpetually in all directions, and forming rivers of gold and silver. What luxury! Gracious Heaven, what magnificence! And to find myself there, elbowing a Marshal of France, treading on the corns of a foreign ambassador, in the midst of the greatest names of Europe, and the finest diamonds in the world! it was an honor that no Paturot in the world before me had ever enjoyed. Let none say that the revolution of July was an abortion. Has it not introduced hosiers to the Tuilleries?

Then we have M. Paturot in another character. Connected with the political world by

Question.-The Commission would prefer hearing of the condition of this manufacture in our own time.

Answer. I am coming to that. We distinguish various kinds of wool-long wool and short wool; and Nature, who is sometimes capricious, has not given to France the monopoly of the sheep. She has placed the merino in

Spain, in Derbyshire, in Saxony-all which are foreign countries: but I cannot pardon these flocks for flourishing out of France. I acknowledge no sheep but the sheep of France.

Question. This feeling does you honor, M. Paturot. But would it not be for the advantage of our wool to introduce some of the finer foreign sheep?

Answer.-What!-and the French shepherds, M. President? and the French pastures-and the French shepherds' dogs? No! M. President! There I am inflexible! Vivent les moutons Frrrrançais! I will lay my head on the block if that be necessary. My ancestors, M. President, were Auvergnats-and they carried the culture of the mouton Frrrrançais even to fanaticism. I myself, in my youth, knew only the sheep of France. It is an intelligent creature, full of grace and fascination. May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ere it shall utter a syllable disagreeable to that quadruped! Vive le mouton Frrrrançais. Nourished on the soil of France, it alone can have a just claim to the French wool market, as well as to the glorious privilege of supplying the French nation with chops.

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Not less eloquent is M. Paturot when tioned on the subject of cottons. France, it is true, does not at present furnish raw cotton,but "there are specimens in the Jardin des Plantes that have a very promising appearance." Besides, if she does not grow cotton, she is unrivalled in cotton night-caps.—

She is not, and must not be, at the mercy of foreigners for an article of such signal importance. Let us for a moment suppose the cotton night-cap become an exotic,-for which we depended on other nations. Let a war break out, and you would not have a night-cap in France! The enemy would attack you by a universal cold in the head.

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Commissioner. This objection is not without force; but it appears to the commission that have not reliance enough on the intelligence and activity of the French nation. When I speak of the introduction of foreign night-caps, I mean of course under a system of differential duties. Now, if with this protection the French night-cap could still not compete with those of foreign countries, what would you say to a manufacture so feeble?

Answer.-M. President, with all possible respect I am compelled to say that you are falling into a political economy that is both humanitarian and revolutionary. Our cotton night-caps are the first in the universe; and it is for that very reason that we cannot endure to admit any other.

This sally procured for M. Paturot a welldeserved testimonial from "the trade;" but not content with the honor thus achieved, he becomes a Mæcenas-protects the arts at the instigation of Oscar, builds a mansion in the style of the middle ages and takes a high degree in the school of fashion by passing a flirtation, or something more, with a great lady, a Russian princess, the owner, as he is informed by Oscar, of vast estates in the Ukraine, as well as of twenty-two thousand serfs and three hundred thousand sheep; but whose revenue has unfortunately at the moment been sequestrated by the Emperor,- -so that she is reluctantly compelled to be indebted to M. Paturot for considerable advances. In the saloons of the Princess-filled, of course, with all the "best society of Paris"-Jérome meets with a young, a very young, gentleman of a most elegant exterior, with faultless boots and irreproachable waistcoats, whom, to his great surprise, he discovers to be in possession. of great political influence; "being no other than a great man's private secretary, who governs the minister, who governs the Council." It was difficult to believe that such power could have fallen into such hands, and that the destinies of the country could in any way depend upon this beardless boy; but so it

was.

"It was the duty of this youth to make picturesque tours through the soirées and theatres, and balls and concerts of the capitalto have his foot in every considerable house, and his ear at every keyhole." The secretary encourages M. Paturot-whose loyal devotion to the Court has not passed unobserved-to put himself forward as a candidate for a seat in the Chamber, in opposition to a certain obnoxious Deputy whom the Government desires to oust one of those disagreeable fellows who are always talking about economy. His new friend, the secretary, assures him that "the King's Government will watch the his election with the greatest interest.'

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of

"Do not spare anything on your side, M. Paturot. As for the Administration, it will do its duty. I will speak to the minister this very day. Turn out M, what a triumph!"—"I will get the shepherds of the arrondissement to stone him," I exclaimed with fervor.—“ No, M. Paturot; no violence; the Government of His Majesty rejects methods of that kind. The arrondissement is at the present moment in a very The Commission will consider this argument. good condition to see its error, in having for six M. Paturot. I appeal from this Commission. elections persisted in choosing an opposition I see that there are in it enemies of the national member. During all that time we have taken industry, who will not render to the national care to do nothing for it. That is what we call night-cap the justice which is its due-who are taking the place by famine."-"Oh, science of seeking to eliminate it from the national market. government, how I recognize you in that policy!" I appeal, I say, from this Commission,-and II exclaimed with transport.-" In the various demand formally the head of the President!

communes," pursued the secretary, "there are

clocks out of repair-roads to put in order. A few weeks before the election, we will take our measures."

Thus powerfully supported, M. Paturot is duly returned; and in the Chamber he has another opportunity of displaying the oratorical talents of which he has already given some specimens. Unfortunately, his originally narrow education has left him the prejudice that it is necessary to know something of a subject before speaking about it; and with a view to his parliamentary education he passes in review some of the most distinguished speakers. (M.M. Berryer, Odillon Barrot, Lamartine, Guizot, and Thiers), of whom he gives sketches, and the last-mentioned of whom he resolves to take for his model.

What pleased me especially in this orator was that he always took up the question from the cradle, and never left it until it was completely exhausted. He always seemed to think and God knows with what good reason!--that the Chamber was ignorant of the very A B C of the matter in hand. In that he showed his profound knowledge of human nature. Thanks to him, I only just missed understanding the question of the East. I learned that there exists on the banks of the Bosphorus a town called Constantinople, and that among the inhabitants the Turks are in a majority. A little more and I should have found out what is meant by Egypt and Syria!

We have not space to follow M. Paturot through his parliamentary career, nor to trace the successive steps of the downward progress of his fortune,-far more rapid of course than his ascent. In a moment of frailty he is tempted to vote against ministers and join a party which enjoys a triumph of only fortyeight hours.

Adieu, then, to ministerial favor, to official influence, to profits and honors! It was too hard for me to unstall some of my colleagues who had a foot in each camp, who could dine with the ministry and sup with the opposition; it was a feat too giddy and perilous for my poor head, and required an appetite that belonged not to my constitution.

The shop, it is needless to say, has suffered grievously from the absence and inattention of Jérome and his lady, from the house in the style of the middle ages, from the election, the parliamentary dinners and reunions,-not to mention the friendly advances to the Russian Princess, who has suddenly vanished from the eyes of men, and the system of forced loans vigorously applied by M. Oscar, whose friendship has naturally cooled a little as Jérome's star declined from its zenith. To him, however, the Deputy is indebted for a useful suggestion.

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When I had finished the melancholy history of my financial embarrassment, Oscar kept his eyes fixed on me for some minutes, with a gravat length, "you are but a child. You have yet ity quite unusual with him." Jérome," said he, a certain amount of commercial credit, and you are a Deputy here are two infallible means of making a fortune ten times over."-"I should like to see you try, Oscar."-"I! Make me a Deputy for twenty-four hours, and I'd be rolling But you, poor fellow, in gold and diamonds. A Deputy you would n't find water in the sea. and in want of money! pooh, pooh! "Don't beat about the bush, Oscar, but tell me at once what I can get by being a Deputy? A place, perhaps, say of ten-fifteen-twenty thousand francs a year, which would be enormous? That wouldn't save me."-" A place!" said he contemptuously; "Jérome," he added, solemnly, "What I am going to say must remain a secret between us two. Swear it."-" Very well, I swear." "Jérome, do you know a certain ingenious instrument by the vulgar designated a telegraph ?"— Certainly."-"Well, representative of the people, there are millions of francs at the ends of the arms of that little piece of mechanism. I shall say no more. Perhaps I have already said too much. That telegraph is a droll fellow, and might bring an action against me for defamation."-"Nay, Oscar!"-" Jérome, I will remain a stranger to politics. I set a value on my head-seeing that it is the only thing I have to dispose of. But I repeat, cultivate the acquaintance of the telegraph-there are advantages in it."-" But how, Oscar? What do you mean?"—"What do I mean? My dear sir, I stand in a certain position. The director of the Fine Arts has promised me two hundred and seventy portraits of his Majesty to paint— for so many different communes of France." "Good Heavens, you can surely count upon my discretion!"-" Well, then, listen, Jérome. In the second arrondissement of Paris there is situated an edifice in the Greek style of architecture, denominated the Bourse. Combine those two words, the Telegraph and the Bourse-the Bourse and the Telegraph-and see if you can draw no inferences from them."

Jérome is at length enabled to perceive the brilliant perspective opened to him by the painter, and for some months carries on his operations very successfully. Several little pieces of intelligence transmitted at the right moment have the happiest results. But acting boldly on some news conveyed in a despatch of which he has accidentally caught. sight while making a familiar morning call on the minister, his second fortune is swept away in a moment, and the house of Paturot falls to rise no more. The despatch, it appears, was dated several years back,-and had been laid on the table in the minister's dressing room only in the quality of a piece of waste paper for his convenience in shaving.

Another shifting of the scene brings us by

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