of the forefinger raised over the head; the
almost abusive language aud ironical laugh;
the direct appeals, apostrophes, too, oratorical
questionings and pulling to pieces of the accused,
by the avocats; one avocat addressing
the other personally and pointedly, mimicking
his manner and answering his supposed
objections in a completely changed tone of
voice ventriloquist-like; their indiscreet
suppositions- as we should consider them—
by an injudicious use of the argumentum ad
absurdum, because many things are absurd,
and yet are true; and, in short, real acting,—
fit for the stage, rather than what we call
eloquence. A foreigner can be no judge of
good or bad taste in conventional matters,
and is incompetent to pronounce how far
such means are likely to produce the effect
intended.

The president summed up shortly; the jury
retired to their room; the president and
judges to theirs. The accused were taken
out of court. After a short interval a little
bell announced that the jury had made up
their mind. They re-entered. Another bell
announced the return of the court. The jury
gave their verdict in the absence of the
accused. The president, after consultation
with the judges, sent for them, and informed
them that the verdict was negative—in other
words—that they were acquitted. Levendeur
expressed his joy by slapping his thigh;
Rougepain ceased from blubbering and wiped
his moustachios clean and dry. For the first
time during the day, they permitted signs of
mutual recognition to escape them. But, interposed
the president, Levendeur will pay
a fine of so many thousand francs damages to
the State, as he has already offered, besides
the expenses; otherwise, he will be caught
by the body.

Friend Levendeur, it is a costly cup of
coffee that they make you swallow! The
president, judges, and other officials left the
court; the procureur-imperial giving the
acquitted just such a look as the renowned
terrier, Billy, darts at a rat that he has not
been allowed to worry to his mind. The
friends of the white-washed, crowded up to the
bar, and showered upon them various forms
and degrees of congratulation, from kisses on
both cheeks to a shake of the hand and a not
too cordial bow.

"You were not long about it," I said to
my sworn friend (the juryman) at supper;
"and I expected the result would have been
different."

"Yes; "he said,"we were unanimous. It
was impossible we could condemn. There
was no evidence of any pecuniary consideration
whatever, having passed between Levendeur
and Rougepain; besides, one must have
a little pity on human weakness. It was a
tripotage commercial, that's all. They have
had six weeks in prison, and an excellent
lesson has been given. Rougepain will, perhaps,
remain in retreat: perhaps will be removed
to another military division. If
Levendeur plays tricks with coffee again,
he will not get off so easily."

THE SCHOOL OF THE FAIRIES.

For the first time, thanks to Mr. Planché,
we, children of every growth in this country,
have the fairy tales of the Countess D'Anois
(whom we are now ordered to call D'Aulnoy)
set fairly before us. Mr. Planché has treated
them with all due reverence, translated them
with strict fidelity, illustrated with notes
their allusions to the persons and habits of
the time when they were written, and issued
them adorned with pretty pictures, in a
cheap volume that will enable any one to
read up, thoroughly and easily, this section
of fairy lore.

And fairy lore is not lore only in a playful
sense. An ample knowledge of it implies
education of a great deal more than the fancy.
The fields on which ogres, fairies, genii, giants,
and enchanters are at home, are to be looked
back upon by nobody as "fields beloved in
vain, where once his careless childhood
strayed, a stranger yet to pain." They are
not beloved in vain; and if grave parents or
grave pundits, who instruct the young, would
take half as much pains upon their cultivation
as they spend on backboards, drill
lessons, delectuses and Lindley Murrays,
they would be beloved assuredly to all the
best of purposes.

For, there is in all literature nothing that
can be produced which shall represent the
essential spirit of a man or of a people so
completely as a legend or a fairy tale. The
wild freaks of fancy reveal more of the real
inner life of man than the well-trimmed ideas
of the judicious thinker. The inventor is
completely off his guard when he has set his
fancy loose, to play among impossibilities;
but while he sports with the affairs of life by
twisting them into odd forms, gives unrestrained
license to his ingenuity, for the
invention of any conceivable picture of what
seems to him most beautiful and desirable, or
the reverse; his unstudied dealing with ideal
things shows all that is most unalterable and
essential in his own mind, or the minds of
those whom his inventions are designed to
please. Everybody knows that fairy tales
and other compositions of that kind represent
the spirit of the age and nation
out of which they spring; there are few
who trouble themselves to consider seriously
why, or to how great a degree that
is the case, or to reflect upon the use that
might be made of this fact in the education
of a child.

The fancy of a child is—for the first six or
seven years at least, of childhood—by a great
deal the broadest channel through which
knowledge and wisdom can be poured into
the mind. The flower comes before the fruit,
in man as in the tree; and in each case the