the two sexes can well cry quits.

DISAPPOINTED AMBITION.

I. CHODOREILLE THE GREAT.

A young man has forsaken his natal city in the depths of one of the
departments, rather clearly marked by M. Charles Dupin. He felt that
glory of some sort awaited him: suppose that of a painter, a novelist, a
journalist, a poet, a great statesman.

Young Adolphe de Chodoreille--that we may be perfectly
understood--wished to be talked about, to become celebrated, to
be somebody. This, therefore, is addressed to the mass of aspiring
individuals brought to Paris by all sorts of vehicles, whether moral
or material, and who rush upon the city one fine morning with the
hydrophobic purpose of overturning everybody's reputation, and of
building themselves a pedestal with the ruins they are to make,--until
disenchantment follows. As our intention is to specify this peculiarity
so characteristic of our epoch, let us take from among the various
personages the one whom the author has elsewhere called _A Distinguished
Provencal_.

Adolphe has discovered that the most admirable trade is that which
consists in buying a bottle of ink, a bunch of quills, and a ream of
paper, at a stationer's for twelve francs and a half, and in selling
the two thousand sheets in the ream over again, for something like fifty
thousand francs, after having, of course, written upon each leaf fifty
lines replete with style and imagination.

This problem,--twelve francs and a half metamorphosed into fifty
thousand francs, at the rate of five sous a line--urges numerous
families who might advantageously employ their members in the retirement
of the provinces, to thrust them into the vortex of Paris.

The young man who is the object of this exportation, invariably passes
in his natal town for a man of as much imagination as the most famous
author. He has always studied well, he writes very nice poetry, he is
considered a fellow of parts: he is besides often guilty of a charming
tale published in the local paper, which obtains the admiration of the
department.

His poor parents will never know what their son has come to Paris to
learn at great cost, namely: That it is difficult to be a writer and to
understand the French language short of a dozen years of heculean labor:
That a man must have explored every sphere of social life, to become
a genuine novelist, inasmuch as the novel is the private history
of nations: That the great story-tellers, Aesop, Lucian