Places du Midi, France is full of them. But there is only one Rue Mouffetard in the world.

Utter the word Canebière, and visions of Bastides, of bouillabaisse, and of mistral pass before the eyes; you involuntarily become a Marseillais. Do you wish to think of Paris? just murmur the word Mouffetard! and instantly the perfume of fried potatoes will invade the atmosphere, you will hear the very tintin of the dealers in coco, you will see philosophers pass by with lanterns (not modern Diogenes, but "chiffonniers").

Zouaves have been seen in the Crimea, who, being supposed to be dead, have opened their eyes on hearing the word "Mouffetard," and asked for a glass of brandy.

The Rue Mouffetard, no one knows why, has become historical; one of the most historical streets, indeed, of Paris. It is consecrated alike in proverbs and songs. If the Rue Mouffetard goes, the Place Maubert follows its fate. We shall soon read in the papers:

"The name of the Place Maubert, which reminds one of nothing, is about to disappear, to give place to another designation. People only hesitate between the following: Place Abelard et Heloïse, Place des Réalistes, Place de la Scolastique."

I aver that the Rue Mouffetard and the Place Maubert are indispensable to the splendour of the capital; without them Paris will be incomplete, and the Parisians will never consent to their suppression. Touch not the Rue Mouffetard!

Our old friend, the "Almanach Prophétique," follows up its usual paper on very high tides, by a pseudo-scientific essay on what it designates as the return of the seasons to their normal condition-a very desirable thing, for we prefer the regularity of the past to the irregularity of the present, and do not affect cold springs and hot Christmases. The influence of Providence in terrestrial as well as celestial matters, is illustrated by a charming apologue, which we translate, at the risk of its having already appeared elsewhere in an English garb :

A philosopher, who had long and deeply studied men and things, came one day to doubt God, and to recognise nothing but fatality as the principle moving all things here below.

When a misfortune struck the masses, or an individual, a province, or a kingdom, he would sigh, and bending his head, would say to himself: "It was so written; may the decrees of destiny be accomplished!"

One day this philosopher was walking in a vast forest, pondering over the miseries of this world, the greatness of nature, and the marvellous things that incessantly pass before the eyes, the causes of which are unknown to us.

And then, turning his thoughts in the direction in which they habitually ran, he interrogated the past, the present, and the probabilities of the future, muttering in conclusion, "Everything is written; may the decrees of destiny be accomplished!"

His reflections had brought him to a huge rock, from the foot of which there flowed a limpid spring, which poetically disturbed the silence of the forest as it rolled over its pebbly bottom.

The philosopher stopped and contemplated the rivulet. "Little thread of water," he said, "you will go to increase the stream, that will swell the river, which in its turn will flow into the ocean. What a sublime idea! Spring, thou art life; rivulet, thou art the individual; river, thou art humanity; and thou, ocean, thou art death, in which everything is swallowed up!"

As he thus spoke to himself there came up a soldier, harassed with fatigue and perishing from thirst; perceiving the spring, he hurried towards it, and throwing himself on his knees he drank heartily of the cool waters. He then rose up and continued his way.

The sound of his footsteps had barely been lost in the distance when there arrived a young peasant to fill his gourd at the source. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of joy, stooped down, and picked up an object, which the philosopher saw was a purse, no doubt fallen out of the soldier's pocket, and he made off with it with quick steps.

A strange interest captivated the fatalist; without knowing why, he remained motionless in his place; he had a presentiment that something was about to

occur.

Nor was it long before an old man, bent down with years, arrived at the spring. He seemed to be accustomed to come there, for he sat down as if familiar with the place. Scarcely, however, had he been seated, than the soldier, who had first attracted the philosopher's attention, came back, and going up to the old man, he said, in a threatening tone:

"Give me back my purse."

"Your purse, young man! How should I be in possession of it ?"

"When I was drinking at this spring I lost it. Come, old man, restore that which does not belong to you, and which constitutes my whole fortune." "I swear, by my mother, that what you ask is impossible. I cannot give you back that which I myself do not possess."

Then the soldier, furious at the loss of his money, and exasperated by the denials of the old man, who he felt certain must have found his purse, drew his sword and struck him with it. The poor old man sighed and fell dead on the green sward, which was bathed in his blood. Then the soldier, terrified at what he had done, hurried away.

"Fatality!" exclaimed the philosopher, still seated on his rock; "that man was born under an evil star, and, innocent himself, he has paid the debt of the guilty. Fatality!"

"Šilence, mortal! and do not blaspheme God, interrupted a voice like thunder; "weak reptile, does it belong to you to blame the decrees of Him who is all wisdom and omnipotence?"

The philosopher turned round and perceived a genius, which, surrounded by a bright halo, fixed its sparkling eyes on him.

The man prostrated himself, and worshipped the messenger of Heaven.

"Raise thyself," continued the latter, "and learn by my mouth the explanation of that which has led thee to blaspheme. That old man, whom you pity, and whose death surprises you, because you deem him to be innocent, has deserved his punishment. Many years ago he laid an ambuscade for the father of the soldier whom you have just seen, and assassinated him. The Eternal, in his immutable will, ordained that the murderer, who had escaped human justice, should fall beneath the blows of the son of his victim. Thus is everything wisdom in heaven, as all is error on earth below; man, worship, resign yourself, and do not seek to penetrate into mysteries which are beyond your comprehension."

Having said this, the angel disappeared, and the fatalist, convinced by so manifest a proof of the falseness of his system, renounced it, and became for ever after a pious dervish. As to the young peasant, his sudden acquisition of money betrayed him, and he received the punishment due to his crime.

Algiers is represented to us in the spirit of prophecy as being, in the year 3200, the centre of civilisation-a result which does not well accord with its geographical position. People from all parts of the world will crowd there by balloons, by African railways, submarine tunnels, and by the Gibraltar viaduct. Among the many strangers that will crowd there, not the least interesting will be the Niam-Niams, or people with caudal appendages. The fashion of wearing such will, at that time-that is to say, when Algiers shall have become the centre of the civilised world— have become general. No doubt of it.

The influence of the moon, and more particularly of lunar days, upon individuals is subjected to the test of experience. Louis XVI. was born on the fifth day of the moon (August 23rd, 1754); he ascended the throne on the fifth day of the moon; royalty was abolished the fifth day of the moon, and he was condemned to be beheaded ("à avoir la tête tranchée," as the editors coolly express it) on the fifth day of the moon. Napoleon I. was born on the thirteenth day of the moon; he lost his throne on the thirteenth day of the moon, and the battle of Waterloo was fought on the thirteenth day of the moon. Louis-Philippe was born on the nineteenth day of the moon; he was called to the throne on the nineteenth day of the moon, and he lost it on the nineteenth day of the moon. The Duke of Orleans was born and was killed on the fifth day of the moon. Muhammad, according to Islam, was born at the new moon, and the Hegira, or of the Flight, commences that day. It is manifest that we are all lunatics. The Emperor Napoleon III. was born the 20th of April, 1808, the twenty-fourth day of the moon. If precedents were of any value, his fall will happen on the same day; but, according to the editors, "he will never meet with the fate of those sovereigns who have had the misfortune of arriving at the summit of their greatness on the day of the moon which coincided with that of their birth."

The following is not a bad specimen of the straits to which modern prophets are brought by the spread of education, in order to find pabulum for their readers. A burgomaster of the canton of Vielsalm, of an idle and procrastinating disposition, was always in arrears with the register of deaths, which he had to supply each quarter to the registrargeneral of Holland. Wearied and vexed one day at the reminders he had received, he wrote back: "There have been no deaths in my parish the last quarter, and I can assure you there will be none the next."

As the future cannot but interest us more than the past, we may mention that the prophecies for 1859 are as follows:

January.-Widow Calumet, portress, Rue Coquenard, in spite at a lodger who has failed to make her a New-Year's present, will go every morning and ask him to make his will in her favour.

February.-Mam'selle Catherine, cook, affiliated to the Hippophagic Society, will serve up a fillet of a horse under the pseudonym of a fillet of beef. Great indignation of the recipient. Intense cold. An Academician is buried in an avalanche on his way to the palace of the Institute. Devotion of a cantonnier, who succeeds in rescuing him. Masked balls are at their apogee. A female débardeur indulges in excess in champagne, which excess is the cause of her being, a little later, shut up in the "violon"-just punishment for her gluttony. Great surprise of a dealer in lamps, who suddenly sees all the lamps in his shop lighted up without a cause.

The boeuf-gras begins to attract attention; it weighs 2800 kilos this year more than the last. The jury with whom it rests to give it a name cannot agree; an exchange of blows takes place on the subject.

March.-Races are announced under the happiest auspices. A horse rebels against its jockey, and refuses to take a wall fourteen feet in height.

Late cold weather. A ninny who had been induced to take down his stove upon the first appearance of the sun, is now much perplexed. He goes and asks for a place at his neighbour's hearth, but is refused. A fabulist composes an apologue in honour of the incident.

A chronicler in a daily paper having nothing better to do, relates the siege of Troy in twelve columns. Homer brings an action against him for piracy.

Fatal curiosity of a young lady who was bent upon consulting tables. The tables turn against her in both senses of the word.

Great rejoicings in honour of the birth of a calf with two heads.

A lion escapes from the gardens of the Zoological Society in the Bois de Boulogne, and spreads terror at the Porte Maillot.

Happy news! a grandson of M. Prudhomme's is weaned and taken from its nurse. M. Prudhomme, in his delight, dresses up the scion as an artilleryman, and introduces him into society.

April.-Grand Exposition of Fine Arts. The young artist Coqsigrue having had his realist picture, "The Plague in a Salon," refused by the jury, casts himself into the well of Grenelle.

The sculptor Barabas, a gigantic artist, has cut out with his powerful chisel a group as large as the Madeleine. The doors of the Exposition are, unfortunately, too small to give it admission. Satanic smiles on the part of the immense artist.

Showers of concerts.

A celebrated pianist will execute a brilliant sonata with the tip of his nose. He thereby fractures the same, and is obliged to replace it by a nose of silver. National subscription to procure the same.

Display of new fashions at Longchamps. Great success of the Israelite coat with long flaps, which are fastened beneath the boots by straps. Resurrection of coats with cod-fish tails.

Terrible tragedy in the firmament. The sun, in a moment of provocation, kicks the moon, which causes great fermentation among the stars. M. Babinet arrives in time to interfere.

Chivalrous feat on the part of a gallant man, who throws himself at the feet of a lady to declare his passion, and remains forty-eight hours in that attitude, as fatiguing as it is cloquent. Luckily, he has had the precaution to provide a two-pound loaf and a few sausages, so that he may sustain the inward man during the trial to which the obdurate lady submits the outward one. The husband arrives in the mean time, suddenly, from abroad. The gallant has the happy idea of passing himself off for a shoemaker, who is taking measure of the lady's foot. This explanation completely satisfies the husband-type of all other husbands. May-Two Normans came to admire the Assyrian kings in the Museum of the Louvre, and are disgusted to find that they are of stone.

First representation of a pantomime at the "Folies Nouvelles," which attracts all Paris. The other theatres, jealous of its success, suppress the dialogues from their pieces, and insist upon their actors expressing themselves only by signs.

Irruption of May-bugs!

A gold mine is discovered at Montmartre. This leads to the tumbling down of the windmills. Crowds of Chinese and Australians arrive to work at the new placers.

Danger of visiting a house by night where there is a dog which one has not been introduced to. Dogs are still more sur le quant à soi in that respect even than the English.

A child is baptised by the name of Nicodème Panurge Babylas.

Début of a dancer without legs, who executes the most classic "pas" with the aid of his crutches.

The Shah of Persia sends a large order for nurses to the merchants of Paris. June.-Munificence must have its limits. That is what a young lady cannot be made to understand who addresses herself to an old solicitor with whom she is in favour.

A gentleman will mix himself up with our privilege of foretelling the future by looking into a pail of warm water, but he will be justly punished for his rashness, for a sapper and miner, to whom he has intimated disagreeable things concerning his payse, will thrust his head to the bottom of the pail.

The promises of a magnificent vintage having rejoiced all hearts, a member of the society of "Cousins de Bacchus" comes home in such a deplorable condition as to receive a severe admonition from his wife.

July.-Disgraceful plot of a nephew, who, in order to get rid of his uncle, invites him to breakfast, in the hopes of killing him by indigestion. The uncle, however, a veteran at table, devours without effort a pâté de foie gras, a caneton de Rouen, a langouste à l'Américaine, and a whole melon, not to mention bread and butter and radishes. Obliged to keep pace with him to conceal his machinations, the nephew himself dies of indigestion, and is buried without cere

mony.

Vesuvius indulges in eruptions this year far more terrible than those of the past. An Englishman, who has hastened to the spot "pour assister à ce spectacle," sees his wife crushed by a mass of rock vomited by the volcano. August.-The " garçons de café" persevere in not filling the "petit verre"

of their habitués up to the brim.

Astonishment of a garde champêtre on discovering an ostrich's nest on the plain of Beauce.

The season for sea-baths opens under the most happy auspices. A bourgeois of Paris goes to Dieppe, and spends the day in collecting enormous pebbles on the beach, in order to remove them to his domicile. His wife also lends her assistance in the undertaking.

The packet of the Messageries Impériales, arriving from the Greek Archipelago, brings word that the nymph Calypso still remains unconsoled for the loss of Ulysses.

September.-"Ouverture de la Chasse."

Extraordinary and marvellous adventure of the grocer Beaupanne, who has had the imprudence to trust himself alone in a forest infested with rabbits. The rabbits surround him, make him prisoner, and tie him to a tree. Luckily he is, after a prolonged detention, set at liberty by a châtelaine of the neighbourhood.

A disagreeable contretemps happens to a gentleman who has ventured to the sea-side in an excursion-train. Having taken advantage of the brief time left at his disposal to bathe himself, his clothes are carried away by the tide, and he has to make his way back, to the surprise of his fellow-travellers, en caleçon. A stag, closely pursued, takes refuge in the offices of the Almanach, Rue de Seine, Faubourg Saint-Germain (be particular about the address), where it is killed with a paper-knife.

A medical man invents a specific against colds in the head, and makes his fortune. Some persons try the same remedy for corns, and find it perfectly successful.

Fall of an aërolite, which upsets the Tour Saint-Jacques.

October.-An " Arthur," surprised in a boudoir where he had no right to be, has not time, when effecting his rapid exit, to take all his effects with him, but leaves a boot as a "pièce de conviction." The husband, getting possession of it, acquires the unpleasant habit of obliging whomsoever he meets to try it on, hoping by that means to discover its legitimate proprietor.

At this time of the year the daily papers announce the passage of numerous flocks of wild-ducks, which portend a rigorous winter.

A paper of little circulation, in order to surpass them, announces that a Polar bear has been seen in the wood of Meudon.

A Parisian is invited to the vintage at Suresne, and he witnesses, for the first time, how the grapes are trod down. His reflections on the subject are far from agreeable.

The Sieur Pied de Loup, keeper of a boarding-house, invents a new species of haricot, still more indigestible than any that have been in use up to the

present time.

A medium is spoken of as advancing in the direction of Paris. This medium