Reader, can a man dream with his eyes open? or can a man see with them shut? Before you say no, bear in mind that man is the shadow of his maker; and life, a dream. As to the latter part of the query, the answer may be emphatically no! Then let me dream of what I saw.

One night my faculties fell asleep upon all the world’s eider down, but these things, my faculties, could not sleep on, I saw myself going along by the quietest looking, but gayest palace of every day resort of noblemen and monied men, that decorates the Boulevard. It is not the magic No. from the corner of the Rue la Fitte. On the first floor is all the pleasure a monied man could momentarily crave; but the second floor looked gayer, and the third gayer still. I could see ladies and gentlemen coming in groups of two, four, and six, every quarter of a minute.

It was six o’clock, as near as I can recollect the dream. They commenced sitting down at different tables, while some were hanging up hats, and others looking around as if they were hunting something like what other people had; some of the tables were larger than others; according to their number was the measure thereof. The gentlemen looked as dignified as giraffes, whilst the ladies looked the picture of birds of Paradise more especially where fine feathers contributed. Some were placing their chairs in as agreeable a position as their inward idea could allow them to do with propriety. Towards the end of this Palace, in the direction of the Boulevards, now sprang up a volley of small, or not very loud, musket-like reports, but as nobody was afraid, no harm could be done. Then I could see the waiters pouring into some glasses like Dutch churns, upside down, some hot, smoking stuff that boiled over; it was so hot, that a man might well fear for the ladies mouths being burnt when they took hold of it as if they did not see it, but merely wished to comply with the desire of their beaux. I expected every moment to hear them scream, but they were not afraid of it. The waiters were running to and fro with bottles of all colors. Here one turned up some smaller glasses and poured in something like blood. If it was blood it was pure as Abel’s sacrifice; I never before saw redder from veins. The next occupation of the waiter, was bringing different kinds of soups. I looked on the carte and saw a dozen different kinds; some I never read of before. I looked out of the window on the Rue la Fitte, and saw as many as twenty carriages standing before one another, and from them descending ladies and gentlemen in pairs, running up stairs with perfect gusto.

It is six o’clock as I have said, and I will leave those scenes and tell what more I dreamt, but will return again. I thought I pushed my way through crowds of people, and moved along the Boulevards about four squares, until I came to an extraordinary fine and fashionable street called Vivienne, and I followed it about two squares until my attention was attracted by an immense stone building, taking up one whole square. It looked like the temples I had read of, and I asked a man what it meant, who said it is a place where all the rich people go every day at 1 o’clock to make money, and some loose; they call it “Bourse.” He assured me that its financiering had made “countless thousands mourn.” I next walked into a Caffee filled with ladies and gentlemen and found a seat. A few minutes afterwards a ballet girl entered and seated herself for la creme. I then called for some cream and we eat on the same side of the same table. I asked her if it was good? she said she liked it, and asked me if mine was the same. As the color was different I could not say, without tasting hers, and we put our glasses together and satisfied ourselves on the difference, after which we took a vere du vin at the expense of one of us.

It is now 11 o’clock, and I said I would return to the “Maison Doree.” Having reached this all-hour sought place, I saw the very same people I saw seat themselves at 6 o’clock. They were somewhat changed in color; they all looked rosier and better enabled to take hold of anything they had to do. The gentlemen looked more sociable, and the ladies—I won’t say more bold, but less timid. When a gentleman had anything to communicate, he was not obliged to exert himself in reaching, because the ladies would meet him half way. Everything was so harmonious that one could not go through the laborious task of telling his wish, without assistance from his hearer. Every few minutes something like a rallying remnant of a weak soldier’s gun would go off, and the glasses would smoke as though each one was a volcano. Every minute or two a couple would rise, and before the gentleman could give his arm the lady would reach for it. Even their tempers seemed to fit, as the ocean does the earth, all around and through. Whilst I was thus dreaming, the pillow became insufferable, and I must say it awoke me. I thought I looked out of the window on the moving surface of the Seine. The moon was shining down on its ripples with a most admirable light of solemn grandeur. Stillness reigned such as I had never seen in Paris, and all the time I stood gazing upon that famous stream, not once did that queer dream enter my mind. I jumped into bed and soon fell asleep, and soon got into the old habit, so I dreamt. How particular a man ought to be, when about to do anything for the first time, for, let it be good or bad, the mind will be tempered with the same sterile or fertile nature, as that of the preceding act. I thought I was again at the agreeable Maison Doree, and I looked upon the walled clock, and the hour hand stood at 2. The hall below stairs was as empty as the marble hall, where the true lover dreamed he dwelt among vassals and serfs. But I also dreamed, which pleased me most, that I saw very many beautiful women walking up and down the sidewalk with an apparent air of hunting for something; not that they had lost anything they ever possessed, but something............