But do you pretend, it may be asked, in the course of a three days' journey, however lengthened by celerity of conveyance, or favoured by advantages of season or weather—do you pretend to have experienced that very eminent degree of gratification which the country is capable of communicating? Certainly not. I speak of these scenes but as of things, which before my own hasty and unsatisfied glances came like shadows—so departed. Instead of two or three days, a whole month should be spent between Mentz, Coblentz, and Bonn, in order fully to know and thoroughly to enjoy the beauties and grandeurs with which that space abounds.—Stevenson's Tour in France, &c.

THE BARBER

Nick Razorblade a barber was, A strapping lad was he; And he could shave with such a grace, It was a joy to see! And tho' employ'd within his house, He kept like rat in hole; All those that pass'd the barber's door, Could always see his pole! His dress was rather plain than rich, Nor fitted over well; Yet, tho' no macaroni, Nick, He often cut a swell! And Nick was brave, and he could fight, As many times he proved; A lamb became a lion fierce, Whenever he was moved! Like many of his betters, who To field with pistols rush, When Nicky lather'd any one, He was obliged to brush! Some say Nick was a brainless block, While those who've seen him waving His bright sharp razor, o'er scap'd chins, Declare he was a shaving! His next door neighbour, Nelly Jones, A maid of thirty-eight, 'Twas said regarded Nick with smiles, But folks will always prate. 'Tis known in summer time that she, (A maid and only daughter) To show her love for Razorblade, Kept Nicky in hot water! For politics Nick always said, He never cared a fig; Quoth he:—"If I a Tory were, I likewise wear a wig!" No poacher he, yet hairs he wired, With skill that made maids prouder; And though he never used a gun, He knew the use of powder! He never took offence at words, However broad or blunt; But when maids brought a front to dress, Of course he took a front! Beneath his razor folks have slept, So easy were they mown; Yet (oh! most passing strange it was!) His razor was his own! Nick doubtless had a tender heart, But not for Nelly Jones; He made Miss Popps "bone of his bone," But never made old bones! He died and left an only son, A barber too by trade; But when they ope'd his will, they found A cruel will he'd made. And doubtless he was raving mad, (To slander I'm unwilling) For tho' a barber, Nicky cut His heir off with a shilling!

Absurdities: in Prose and Verse.

BONAPARTE ATTEMPTS SUICIDE

While we endeavour to sum up the mass of misfortunes with which Bonaparte was overwhelmed at this crisis, it seems as if Fortune had been determined to show that she did not intend to reverse the lot of humanity, even in the case of one who had been so long her favourite, but that she retained the power of depressing the obscure soldier, whom she had raised to be almost king of Europe, in a degree as humiliating as his exaltation had been splendid. All that three years before seemed inalienable from his person, was now reversed. The victor was defeated, the monarch was dethroned, the ransomer of prisoners was in captivity, the general was deserted by his soldiers, the master abandoned by his domestics, the brother parted from his brethren, the husband severed from the wife, and the father torn from his only child. To console him for the fairest and largest empire that ambition ever lorded it over, he had, with the mock name of emperor, a petty isle, to which he was to retire, accompanied by the pity of such friends as dared express their feelings, the unrepressed execrations of many of his former subjects, who refused to regard his present humiliation as an amends for what he had made them suffer during his power, and the ill-concealed triumph of the enemies into whose hands he had been delivered.

A Roman would have seen, in these accumulated disasters, a hint to direct his sword's point against his breast; a man of better faith would have turned his eye back on his own conduct, and having read, in his misuse of prosperity, the original source of those calamities, would have remained patient and contrite under the consequences of his ambition. Napoleon belonged to the Roman school of philosophy; and it is confidently reported, especially by Baron Fain, his secretary, though it has not been universally believed, that he designed, at this extremity, to escape from life by an act of suicide.

The emperor, according to this account, had carried with him, ever since the retreat from Moscow, a packet containing a preparation of opium, made up in the same manner with that used by Condorcet for self-destruction. His valet-de-chambre, in the night betwixt the 12th and 13th of April, heard him arise and pour something into a glass of water, drink, and return to bed. In a short time afterwards, the man's attention was called by sobs and stifled groans—an alarm took place in the chateau—some of the principal persons were roused, and repaired to Napoleon's chamber. Yvan, the surgeon, who had procured him the poison, was also summoned; but hearing the emperor complain that the operation of the poison was not quick enough, he was seized with a panic-terror, and fled from the palace at full gallop. Napoleon took the remedies recommended, and a long fit of stupor ensued, with profuse perspiration. He awakened much exhausted, and surprised at finding himself still alive; he said aloud, after a few moments' reflection, "Fate will not have it so," and afterwards appeared reconciled to undergo his destiny, without similar attempts at personal violence. There is, as we have already hinted, a difference of opinion concerning the cause of Napoleon's illness; some imputing it to indigestion. The fact of his having been very much indisposed is, however, indisputable. A general of the highest distinction transacted business with Napoleon on the morning of the 13th of April. He seemed pale and dejected, as from recent and exhausting illness. His only dress was a night-gown and slippers, and he drank from time to time a quantity of tisan, or some such liquid, which was placed beside him, saying he had suffered severely during the night, but that his complaint had left him.

After this crisis, and having ratified the treaty which his mareschals had made for him. Napoleon appeared more at his ease than he had been for some time before, and conversed frankly with his attendants upon the affairs of France.

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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 264, July 14, 1827

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THE BARBER

BONAPARTE ATTEMPTS SUICIDE

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