the wise man, survivor
of all reefs and shoals, such as we have pointed out, sometimes falls
into the snares which he himself has set.

I have myself noticed that man deals with marriage and its dangers in
very much the same way that he deals with wigs; and perhaps the
following phases of thought concerning wigs may furnish a formula for
human life in general.

FIRST EPOCH.--Is it possible that I shall ever have white hair?

SECOND EPOCH.--In any case, if I have white hair, I shall never wear a
wig. Good Lord! what is more ugly than a wig?

One morning you hear a young voice, which love much oftener makes to
vibrate than lulls to silence, exclaiming:

"Well, I declare! You have a white hair!"

THIRD EPOCH.--Why not wear a well-made wig which people would not
notice? There is a certain merit in deceiving everybody; besides, a
wig keeps you warm, prevents taking cold, etc.

FOURTH EPOCH.--The wig is so skillfully put on that you deceive every
one who does not know you.

The wig takes up all your attention, and _amour-propre_ makes you
every morning as busy as the most skillful hairdresser.

FIFTH EPOCH.--The neglected wig. "Good heavens! How tedious it is, to
have to go with bare head every evening, and to curl one's wig every
morning!"

SIXTH EPOCH.--The wig allows certain white hairs to escape; it is put
on awry and the observer perceives on the back of your neck a white
line, which contrasts with the deep tints pushed back by the collar of
your coat.

SEVENTH EPOCH.--Your wig is as scraggy as dog's tooth grass; and
--excuse the expression--you are making fun of your wig.

"Sir," said one of the most powerful feminine intelligences which have
condescended to enlighten me on some of the most obscure passages in
my book, "what do you mean by this wig?"

"Madame," I answered, "when a man falls into a mood of indifference
with regard to his wig, he is,--he is--what your husband probably is
not."

"But my husband is not--" (she paused and thought for a moment). "He
is not amiable; he is not--well, he is not--of an even temper; he is
not--"

"Then, madame, he would doubtless be indifferent to his wig!"

We looked at each other, she with a well-assumed air of dignity, I
with a suppressed smile.

"I see," said I, "that we must pay special respect to the ears of the
little sex, for they are the only chaste things about them."

I assumed the attitude of a man who has something of importance to
disclose,