religionists. They work the telegraph! They speculate in stocks which go up and down like the handle of a pump, and bring up a rush of liquid gold at every new effort of suction. The ministers speculate, the minister's friends speculate, the cousins of the minister's friends speculate, the mistresses of the cousins of the minister's friends speculate, everybody speculates! banks are started, railways are conceded, gambling houses are established. To the victors the spoils! The wolves are in the fold. They eat till they are gorged, and revenons à nos moutons is still the cry!

Even the poor artists are not to be spared-those artists are hardened republicans. Field-marshall Jerome, ex-king of Westphalia, wants a palace; the exhibition building in the Palais royal must come down. The artists paid for it. No matter, these poor princes must have some place to live in. Even if the Emperor in his magnificence should, out of the public money, build them another hall of art; it will cost him less than it did the poor artists, for his gold is lighter, and it will not come out of his own pocket.

France is tranquil. It has enough to do to meet its bills and pay its taxes. Couriers are scouring Europe in search of a royal bride worthy of the Imperial alliance. His hand and crown-his hand still red with the slaughter of his late fellow citizens, his crown of yellow brass that vainly apes the nobler metal of the Cesars-are hawked, like the MS. of a bad comedy, from one tinsel monarch's court to another-by all rejected. The petty tributaries of Russo-Austrian despotism shrink trembling from alliance with the audacious upstart, whose empire, coming like a shadow, may also so depart. They dread to ascend in a political balloon without a rudder or a safeguard against explosion. In despairing pique, the mortified Emperor adopts a last and most humorous policy. He will marry for love! Interesting, sentimental young man, he is not yet fifty years of age. Life still has its poetry. An Imperial Romeo is in no danger of being long without, a Juliet!

And thus he stands we have his portrait before us, with one hand in the pocket of the people, one arm round the waist of his Dulcinea, one foot upon crushed liberty of the press, and one heel grinding to dust the constitution to which he swore, and the black records of his perjury, with peace upon his lips and military vanity swelling beneath his brows -with the jingle of parasite flattery filling his ears from below, and above him the dark silent Nemesis, whose secret is the secret of the gods!

IDOLS, LIONS AND POODLES.

FROM the earliest ages of the world mankind have been prone to idolatry in some form or other. The Magi worshipped the Sun, the Greeks a wooden Block, the Brahmins a Monkey, the Chinese a Josh, the Calmucks a Bear, the Egyptians a Bull, and the Israelites a Golden Calf, in which they have been followed by all Christain nations, especially in this age of progress.

The people of the United States, generally-and most especially those who lead the van in the society of our great cities are in like manner much given to idolatry; but they neither worship the Sun, the Josh, the Bear or the Bull, though they have a decided propensity to the Golden Calf. Their most fashionable deity, however, is the "Lion," who, not being a native of the country, is, on that account, held in the highest estimation. Whether the Lion in the Ass's skin, or the Ass in the Lion's, is not of much consequence, provided he puts on a bold face, and roars with good emphasis.

The Lion, however, most in request, is a two-legged Lion, whose form and attributes are somewhat different from the royal beast, who, by right divine—that is, by right of the strongest-reigns despotically over all four-legged animals. He is without a tail, even to his coat, and carries his mane on his chin or upper lip, and sometimes both. As to claws, like the amorous Lion in the fable, it being his practice to make love to every woman he meets, married or single, he cuts them close, lest he should frighten or scratch them. Though rather fond of the flesh, he cannot be strictly called a carniverous animal, and setting aside his enormous appetite for chicken salad, oysters, champagne and other comestibles, is as harmless as Nic Bottom. When he roars it is as a "sucking dove," and the ladies always say, "Encore! let him roar once more." These Lions differ in many respects from the four-footed species, for so far from fearing the crowing of a cock, they keep themselves awake almost every night to hear it, for it is their favorite music. In one thing, however, there is a striking resemblance between the two and fourlegged Lion, for the former is always accompanied by a jackall, who attends him in all his foraging expeditions and comes

in for a small ray of his reflected glory at least, if he gets nothing more substantial.

These Lions are formidable rivals to the Poodles, and we have heard of several ladies, both married and single, who have been so distracted with contending emotions in making a choice between them, that they fell into a decline, and were obliged to visit Paris for their health. At present, like Cæsar and Pompey, they are disputing the empire of the world of fashion, and it is impossible to tell which will finally wield the sceptre, the Lion or the Poodle. We, however, will bet on the Poodles, because the ladies can carry them in their arms or in their laps without scandal, which they cannot do with the Lions until they have fairly established the rights of women on a solid foundation.

The Poodle has various other advantages over the Lion. He is much more domestic in his habits and constant in his attachments, and when sick takes his physic without making wry faces, whereas the Lion makes a terrible ado on such occasions, and any lady would probably lose his affections for ever who should administer a dose, except, perhaps, a homoopathic pill. He is, moreover, a very harmless little animal who, though he growls occasionally, scarcely ever bites except when eating; while, on the contrary, the other is a mischievous sort of a brute and would make no bones of destroying the peace of a whole family rather than forego any gratification of his own. There is, however, a great difference of opinion in regard to the intelligence of the two rival species. Some think the Lion, others the Poodle the most sensible. The first has undoubtedly a great advantage in having the gift of speech, and thus being able to express his ideas with the aid of gesticulation; but to this the advocates of the Poodle reply that the gift of speech is of little or no advantage to man or beast, unless he has ideas and thoughts to express, just as teeth would be a superfluity without the capacity of eating. It is, moreover, alleged in behalf of the Poodle, that he has four legs, whereas the other has but two, and that according to the inflexible law of numbers four is equal to twice two; 'Argal" as Touchstone says, one Poodle is equal to two Lions. There is much reason in this, since if the Poodle were to lose two of his legs he would have two left, while the Lion would have none. On the whole, as previously hinted, we are inclined to believe the Poodle the superior animal, and that in the end he will get the better of the Lion.

We have thus given a brief sketch of the genus Lion-or rather of the most numerous species which is to be found in

the United States, where they greatly abound, most especially in our great emporiums. But there are several varieties which merit the attention of the zoological student. For example, there is the noble Lion-par excellence-the Lion of rank or title; the Lion of fashion; and the Lion of literature, who has been well puffed up by foreign critics, and has a European reputation," without which no man can be a literary Lion, except on the smallest possible scale. It being a "fixed fact," as Mr. Cushing said, that prophets have no honor in their own country. All these varieties come to the United States to be honored; and all our fellow-citizens who wish to become prophets must seek honor abroad. But let us proceed to a separate and distinct analysis of all these varieties.

The Lion of rank and title is, on the whole, the highest in our estimation, and has the most worshippers among us, untitled plebeians, especially the females, who being all ladies, and their fathers and husbands all sovereigns, in our opinion should hold themselves above this inferior species of noble Lions. But, from some unaccountable caprice, no sooner does one of these come among us than the good folks, especially the high ton, run after him as if he were a prodigy or a monster. They absolutely run him down, stare him out of countenance, if he has the least particle of modesty, and to all appearance, it is not his fault if he has not as many wives as the modern Mahomet, Brigham Young of the Great Salt Lake. No matter what sort of a Lion he may be; whether lame, hump-backed, one-eyed or one-legged, a wise Lion or a foolish Lion, they flock to take a look at him with as much eagerness as children to see the elephant, the bull Apis, or the hippopotamus. This seems strange-but according to the very original remark of my Lord Byron, "Truth is strange, stranger than fiction." We intend, one of these days, to write a romance to be called "The Mysteries of Women," in which we purpose, with the aid of the spiritual knockers, to unveil the secrets of the female heart, and satisfactorily account for this singular propensity to run after this species of lions, when everybody knows they run away from all others. At present we must leave the mystery to be developed in "The Great Harmonia," by the managers of the "Celestial Telegraph "which is doubtless destined to supersede that of Mr. Morsethe ghost seers of "The Night Side of Nature," the inquisitors into the "Science of the Soul," "The Macrocosm and the Microcosm," "The philosophy of Spiritual Intercourse," and "The Shekinah." If they don't unfold the mystery, nobody

else can; that is quite clear, and we must remain forever in ignorance.

The definition or analysis of a Lion of fashion, like everything else appertaining to that inscrutable humanity is much more difficult than that we have just finished. To "shoot folly as it flies" requires a more expert marksman than to bring down. a snipe or a woodcock on the wing. We have lately thought that fashion has a close affinity with mesmerism, clairvoyance, the macrocosm and the microcosm, the Spiritual Telegraph, and especially to "The Night Side of Nature;" for not only do its orgies take place at night, but the influences which operate on it, and the springs by which it is moved, are hid in utter darkness. None of the requisites necessary to distinguish people in every other sphere of life are required to make a fashionable Lion, though money, which is said to make the mare go on all other occasions, has not a little influence here. But so far as our experience goes--and we have seen something of the world-neither genius, talent or worth, nor beauty, manners or grace are necessary to a fashionable lion or lioness. We have known in our time a man become fashionable by despising, and acting, as well as dressing in direct opposition to fashion; while, on the other hand, we have known hundreds of persons who became fashionable lions by acting and dressing in strict accordance with fashion. We remember once to have been greatly puzzled with a young gentleman, a lion of the first magnitude, and the very "quincunx of fashion. He was neither handsome, sensible, nor agreeable, but we never saw him among the élite, without his being surrounded by a bevy of beauties that almost made us die on the spot with envy. At length it so happened that we overheard them discussing his merits, when we discovered to our astonishment that his standing in the world of fashion was entirely owing to his inimitable skill in tying his cravat. We spent most of that night and the next day in trying to catch his peculiar tie, but all in vain, and were obliged to confess that it was not without reason, considering the difficulty of the thing, that on the tying of a cravat, in a great measure rested the legitimate claim to the dignity of a fashionable Lion.

The claim of the fashionable Lion does not, however, rest altogether on the tie of his cravat. The weight of his purse is another important ingredient. As it may be assumed as an inflexible law of nature, that every spinster has a decided leaning towards the marriage state, and as it is equally an inflexible law of fashion that no discreet young lady who values her happiness in that holy state, can take a ticket in