Now don't make a joke of

That feeling I spoke of;

For, as sure as you 're born, that same feeling,-whate'er
It may be,-saves the life of the young Mousquetaire !—
The knife, that was levell'd, erewhile, at his throat,
Is employ'd now in ripping the lace from his coat,
And from what, I suppose, I must call his culotte;
And his pockets, no doubt,

Being turn'd inside out,

That his mouchoir and gloves may be put "up the spout,"
(For of coin, you may well conceive, all she can do
Fails to ferret out even a single ecu ;)

As a muscular Giant would handle an elf,
The Virago at last lifts the soldier himself,

And, like a She Samson, at length lays him down
In a hospital form'd in the neighbouring town!
I am not very sure,

But I think 'twas Namur ;

And there she now leaves him, expecting a cure.

There, too, as the Frog, when he "ask'd for a song,"
Said, "Miss Mouse, give us something that is not too long!"
Even so, Mr. Bentley

Now hints to me gently,

With slightly elongated visage,-I must

Leave, myself, till next month, François Xavier Auguste.

(END OF CANTO 1.)

A SAILOR'S TRIP UP THE RHINE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE LIFE OF A SAILOR."

"THERE is nothing certain in this world but death and taxation, and I have just lived long enough in it to believe in the truth of the proverb. My father made the remark before me; and my son, if ever I have one, will no doubt follow my example.

"How comfortably," said I, " does the world wag now! No wars -no revolutions-all is peace, quietness, and harmony. The Eastern question, with Syria and Mehemet Ali, gives some occupation to the usual idleness of diplomatic life, which would otherwise stagnate from the peaceful current on which it is embarked. "France," said I, as I cut the cards for the last rubber-(it was half past eleven o'clock on Wednesday night, the 5th of this present August)-France has overcome all her enemies, and will shortly bury the animosity of the world with the dust of Napoleon in the Invalides at Paris. How delightful it is," said I, as I warmed upon the subject, as the slow dealer doled out our thirteen cards, "to weigh our anchors at our pleasure, to make sail for any port, creek, or harbour, to run

along the roadstead of the world, and to anchor or heave-to at discretion. For instance, here am I at Boulogne; to-morrow I start for Baden, a trip up the Rhine. What care I which way the wind sets, as long as there is not, as we used to say, a southerly wind in the bread-bag-Clubs trumps"-(all of us as silent as a set of Tartars at prayers, or Quakers before the spirit is active).

"I think, sir," said I, addressing my companion, or partner, after the deal was over, "that you might gain considerable knowledge of this game by a careful perusal of the Baron Bon de Vautray's work, called Le Genie du Whist.' It teaches us a good lesson for the married state; for all his doctrine is founded upon the necessity of never deceiving your partner; and his instructions might well serve for a gourmand, as he inculcates the necessity of keeping your eyes always on the board. If you had followed his advice, you would not have revoked (the opponents never found it out), and I should have been sure of your holding an honour."

“Major A—, sir," he replied, "has a remark, that he who scolds should be cut, and never come again.'"

"Well, then, I shall cut and run now, and certainly not come again." So saying, I pocketed my winnings, wished my hospitable host good night, and emerged into the Grande Rue.

It was a calm and beautiful night; the stars were forth, but the moon had set, and there was no brilliancy to outdo the glare of the gas-lights in the Rue de l'Ecu. I stood gazing at the quiet scene before me. All those who earned their livelihood by labour were now in repose; the careful housewife, the tired artisan, the votary of pleasure, the hunter after dissipation, were all at rest. With such thoughts, I wore ship round the corner of the Rue de l'Ecu, and got to my comfortable moorings. I soon feel asleep, for not a sound disturbed my repose.

"Hark!" said I, suddenly leaping from my bed, "what infernal sounds are these?" I rushed to the window, and caught even for a second the enthusiasm with which "Vive l'Empereur" resounded. I soon found that a second Napoleon was in the streets leading on some fifty or sixty men, all shouting and distributing proclamations. As there was evidently a mutiny in the ship of the state, I was soon on the alert. I have often dressed in a minute; but, as an Emperor was to be seen, I gave myself a privateer wash, a lick and a promise, and putting on a blouse, to be mistaken by either party, as circumstances might occur, away I went. Before I started, however, I desired my servant to get a proclamation, that I might not sail without understanding under whose orders I might be.

The Frenchman came in with a face as white as a Hertfordshire turnip clean washed for market.

“Oh, mon Dieu ! mon Dieu! voila un affaire bien grave."

"Hand it here," said I. "What is it? New naval instructions, or a new set of articles of war?”

He then read aloud, that the dynasty of Louis Philippe had ceased to reign; that M. Thiers was to be Prime Minister; Marshal Clausel, Commander of the Army; Pajol, Governor of Paris; that the Chambers were dissolved, and the National Assembly convened; and this notice of revolution was signed "Napoleon Louis."

"Nothing sure," said I," in this world but death and taxation. I said so before, my father said so before me, my child shall say so

after me. My old acquaintance, with whom I have dined, and who used to ride about the Park, turned into an Emperor! To be sure, he has only given himself an acting commission; but it must be confirmed by the nation before he can wear his flag on the staff at the Tuileries. But let us see how he is prepared to unship the present Napoleon of Peace-the great and good Louis Philippe."

I am aware that since this event occurred, as many anecdotes as would fill the pages of the One Hundred and One Nights have been circulated. I, however, saw everything myself. I followed the Emperor until he was fished up like a half-drowned rat; and, with the exception of the first part, when he landed at Wimereux, and I was aleep, (at five o'clock in the morning,) all that I shall relate is as true-as that Napoleon Louis is a madman.

The Edinburgh Castle, commanded by one Jem Crow, who had better have "wheeled about and turned about," brought over this cargo of imbecility and folly. After landing his forlorn hope at Wimereux, he directly proceeded to the harbour of Boulogne, and there he runs aground on the bar.

In the mean time his Majesty the Emperor walked along the dusty road from Wimereux to Boulogne, and made direct to the barracks of the 42nd regiment, situated in the Rue de Caserne. Before, however, he made his imperial person visible, he planted two sentinels, one at the corner of the Rue de la Lampe, and the other at the angle of the barracks which leads to the Quay. Having taken these precautions, he entered the barrack-yard, and proclaimed his mission. It so happened that only one officer was in the establishment, a Lieutenant Aladenize, who listened to the Emperor, and endeavoured to persuade the men to join him; but one of the privates ran to inform the Captain that something was going on which did not appear to him to be quite proper. The Emperor, dressed in uniform, with a star, addressed the men, and endeavoured to persuade them to cry "Vive l'Empereur," and to follow him. And certain it is that this regiment, the very finest in France, listened, and never attempted to act against him.

The Captain, informed of what was going on, lost no time in making his apppearance, and gallantly advanced to oppose illegal measures. He was met by the sentinel, who desired him to retire. Upon this he drew his sword, and the sentinel, observing the lieutenant equally disposed to fight, then let them pass, and they entered the barrack. The Emperor seized the order which the Captain wore, and endeavoured to tear from his breast the highly-prized decoration. The officer behind seeing the assault, came to his aid, when the Emperor, it is erroneously asserted, drew a pistol and presented it at the Captain. The Lieutenant struck the pistol, which being discharged, the contents lodged in the cheek of a private. The Emperor now thought it prudent to go on another tack, and left the barracks unpursued.

He next visited the Sub-préfet, who gave him very little encouragement; so little, indeed, that he was in danger of being felled to the ground by the standard-bearer. A captain of the National Guard, seeing the affray, advised the Préfet to gain time, whilst he would desire a drummer of the National Guard to beat the générale, and give directions for the tocsin to be sounded. These hostile measures prompted the Emperor to retire to Napoleon's Column, on

which the imperial colours, surmounted by an eagle, had already been displayed.

That any man could have ventured on such an expedition as this with only fifty or sixty men, and without any associates on shore, is out of the question. Some have declared that the flag on the Column was the preconcerted signal for the landing having been effected; whilst some assume it to have been an intimation for the steam-boat to keep close in shore, in order to render assistance. Certain it is that Montholon, when questioned by Monsieur Henri as to how a man of his mature age and understanding could trust himself in an enterprise so rashly conceived, and so foolishly attempted, replied, "We have been deceived." It is therefore probable that the signal was for a concentration of the forces at that point; for there the Emperor retreated, and there some of his misguided followers walked to and fro in sullen silence. It was particularly remarked that there was no bold daring depicted on their countenances; but that they walked disunited, without exchanging a word, and seemed alike heedless of the result, or uninterested in the affair. They were well dressed in the uniform of the 40th regiment, which regiment was stationed at Calais and Dunkirk, and armed in a proper manner. From this, one might infer that one of the two above named places was, in the first instance, selected for the disembarkation.

As the Emperor returned from the town he heard the drums beating to arms, the tocsin sounding, and preparations making too plain to be misunderstood. His companions, we are told, urged him to face the storm; but the Emperor refused, although his companions said that many were for him, as was proved by the continual cry of "Vive l'Empereur." This indeed occurred, but was owing to the handfuls of five-franc pieces liberally thrown to those who were inclined to scream for payment.

Never, perhaps, did the National Guard behave better than on this morning. On my arrival at the Mairie, where General Montholon was a prisoner, a great number of the men were under arms; some, indeed, not in their military dress, but all armed, and ready for action. I saw in an instant, that if the Emperor had returned, his chance was hopeless. The 42nd were likewise marched up the Grande Rue.

The Mayor and all the people in authority soon arrived, and old Montholon, with his grey hair and stout form, was led a prisoner from the Mairie to the fort. I could not help recalling to my mind the high estimation in which this once great man had been held by his countrymen, for his undeviating fidelity to his master. I could not help wondering at the perversity of human nature, which could prompt an old man, withering fast into the grave (for Montholon must be verging on seventy), and when most men, tired of the world's bustle, prepare to meet an enemy they cannot evade, and lay down the staff, like a wearied pilgrim, in peace and quietness— I could not, I say, help exclaiming to one near me, "What poor, weak, silly mortals we are! and how little do we know our own welfare!" He marched to his prison like a bold soldier, his head erect, his eye unabashed. I was not the only person who regretted that such a man could become a traitor to his country, and seek to embroil it in a civil war, for one who had not the slightest imaginary claim to the throne, and who, having received his pardon

from the Prince he sought to destroy, had broken his parole by attempting it. The rest of the tribe were adventurers, whom I pass over without comment. But for Montholon I feel as if I had witnessed the extinction of a bright character, whose name would have been always associated with that of the Exile of St. Helena.

The Emperor, indeed, soon found that he was in no force to cope with his eager assailants, who followed his steps so quickly, that he saw himself pursued when he arrived at the Column. It was now evident the game of King was lost. His party had separated; some fled to the fields for concealment, some were captured in the town, and some, seeing the storm about to burst, seized any horse they could obtain, and fled for safety. Only about ten remained with their chosen chief, and with these he struck across the fields to the cliff, and gained the sea-shore. I had followed towards the Column; but, seeing the flight was towards the sea, I made an hypoteneusal slant, and gained the summit of Agricola's Tower, which is situated a small distance to the right of the bathing machines, and from which I could see everything which passed. It was now a quarter past eight. I observed that the steam-boat was taken possession of by the French authorities. Three pilot-boats were alongside, and the vessel was backing her paddles, endeavouring to get off the bar. It was contrary to the French regulations for the boat to have landed her passengers at Wimereux, and on this plea the captain of the port seized the vessel. Scarcely had I taken up a commanding position, and arranged the focus of my glass, when I heard a shout on my right, and the Emperor, with his seven or eight followers, escorted by about fifty or sixty ragamuffin boys, appeared coming along the beach in most military disorder; whilst indistinct shouts of "Vive l'Empereur," apparently more in derision than in earnest, reached my ears. The hasty strides with which the Emperor sought to gain the small boat, (used during the bathing season as a precaution to prevent imprudent people from being drowned,) convinced me that the ignoble flight was the result of a conviction that all was lost, and that reaching the steam-boat was the last hope of the silly adventurer, who had perilled his fortune, fame, and life for one hour's distinction as a nominal Emperor. Close in the rear of the flying revolutionist followed some of the National Guard, who advanced without any regularity, evidently gaining ground fast.

On approaching the boat, the Emperor drew his sword, as if resolved to have a fight for his safety; for there was still some small chance if he could gain the boat that he might reach the steam-boat, of the capture of which he was ignorant. He had nearly reached the boat when I observed one man run on before, and take an oar out of her, with which he decamped, leaving only one in the boat. The crowd now became more vociferous; and many, attracted by the prospect of a row, ran from the pier and the bathing-place towards the sea, and some bathers, in their natural and artificial costume, mingled with the crowd. The tide was more than half-ebb, and the boat was aground. The mob-or rather some of them-lifted her clear of the sand, and Napoleon and Colonel Voisin got in; the others of his followers attempted to imitate their leader's disposition to retreat, when, either by accident or design, the boat was upset.

How long will hope remain when even the last chance is gone!