sculpture a statue of destiny. His spinal column must be in a direct line to the centre of the earth, so upright he appears. His leisurely generalizations have the freshness of original wisdom, and are compact enough for proverbs. So far above the ordinary plane, his easy guesses give an impression of prescience. All things in all lights, and his words the essence of all. The clatter of the squad in the corner over the decline in Erie, he hears as he does the oaths and glasses in the room adjoining. The mystery or peril, to the thoughtless talkers and drinkers invisible, is patent enough to him; he seems to know the motives of the manipulators, and to divine results. His presumption is so supreme that it confuses and blinds. So much composure must be the token of extraordinary wisdom. Ephemera, distinguishable from motes, accept him a sun, and flourish in his light, till the market turns. His own means are locked up, or he would risk them all in the scheme his judgment approves. If his friend, who approves also, and who is

so fortunate as to have some thousands loose, , will let him take it and use it as he would his

own, he shall share with him the profits. Of losses, nothing is said. If they occur, his friend will enjoy a monopoly, the philosopher perhaps losing a little in confidence. So he deceives, and betrays, and flourishes. In a clean skin, in fresh raiment, immaculate manners, and the repose of virtue, he is the incarnation of fraud, and he commands the admiration, if not the respect, of those he has defrauded. The man who just now touched his hat to him was nearly ruined by him, I know.

The scene revives events of the life and times of John Law. Anecdotes related by Thiers in his memoir of that incomparable schemer, are worth iterating, to illustrate the present, and show how history is repeated, after one hundred and fifty years. All classes of society, says the historian, mingled in the Rue Quincampoix, cherishing the same illusions, noblemen, churchmen, traders, quiet citizens, and servants, whom their suddenly

acquired fortune had filled with the hope of rivalling their masters. All the houses in the street had been converted into offices by the stock-jobbers; the occupants gave up their apartments, the merchants their shops; houses which had brought a rent of seven or eight hundred francs, were cut up into some thirty offices, and brought fifty or sixty thousand francs; stock-jobbing made itself felt in rents as in securities. A cobbler, who had converted his stall into an office by placing in it some stools, a table, and a writing-desk, rented it for two thousand francs a day. A humpbacked man, in the course of a few days, acquired one hundred and fifty thousand livres by letting out his hump as a writing-desk. The brokers organized themselves into regular swindling companies. They speculated upon the constant rise, but more often still upon the fluctuations which they had the skill to produce. They ranged themselves in a line in the Rue Quincampoix, ready to act at the first signal. At

the sound of a bell in the office of a man named Papillon, they offered, all at once, the shares, sold them, and effected a decline. At a different signal, they bought at the lowest price that which they had sold at the highest, and in this way brought about a reaction; thus they always 'sold dear and bought cheap.' The fluctuations were so rapid and so considerable, that brokers receiving shares to sell had time to make large profits by retaining them only one day. One is mentioned, who, commissioned to sell some shares, was absent two days. It was thought that he had stolen. them. Not at all; he repaid the price faithfully, but meantime had made a million for himself. Servants became suddenly as rich as their masters. One of them, meeting his master walking in the rain, stopped his carriage to offer him a seat. A footman had gained so much that he provided himself with a fine carriage; but the first day it came to the door, he, instead of stepping into the vehicle, mounted up to his old station behind. Another,

in a similar predicament, brought himself well off by pretending he got up only to see if there was room on the back for two or three more lackeys, whom he was resolved to hire instantly. Law's coachman had made so great a fortune that he asked a dismission from his service, which was readily granted, on condition of procuring another as good as himself. The man therefore brought two coachmen to his master, both of them excellent drivers, and desired him to make choice of one, at the same time saying that he would take the other for his own carriage. One night at the opera, a Mademoiselle de Begond, observing a lady enter magnificently dressed, and covered with diamonds, jogged her mother, and said, 'I am much mistaken if this fine lady is not Mary, our cook.' The report spread through the theatre, till it came to the ears of the lady, who, coming up to Madame de Begond, said, 'I am indeed Mary, your cook. I have gained large sums in the Rue Quincampoix. I love fine clothes and fine jewels, and am accordingly dressed in