• • (" Zy, , 4 • , I I 1 I ) 4 ; gik,./tu A WILLIAM BREWSTER,} EDITORS, SAM. G. WHITTAKER, *elect Vottil. THE MARTYRS OF OPINION. "Opinion an omnipotence ? whose veil Mantles the earth with darkness." CUILD6 HAROLD. The martyrs of opinion, How silently they die I Es monument npsoars to heaven, . To tell us where they lie. 'They live a life of fearful gloom, They fall like stricken deer ; "Dark Scorn consigns them to the tomb, Their burial rite, a sneer 1 The sword devours its millions ; 'l'llo plague bath swept away Its hecatombs of human worms, And mingle them with clay ; But after these there comes a lull,— The hours with joy are rife ; Opinion's edge is never dull, And never ends her strife. She scales the lofty ramparts, She treads the busy mart— Beneath the monarch's robe of state She gnaws his inmost heart ; She haunts the student in his cell, And blots his labored page, E'en as the fabled fiend of hell Pursued the monkish sage. Where radiant beauty teaches Her votaries to bow, Opinion's loathsome vapors dim The' diamonds en her brow; But mostly through the poor man's shed The harpy loves to roam, To stain with filth his hardicarned bread, And drive him from his home. Talk of the rack, the dungeon, The Moloch tyrant's sway, The art of torture grows more nice In this improving day ; With stern ordeals fenced around Sits custom like a fate ; Nl,tve hut•an inch beyond her bound, And Fashion shuts the gate. They who have fltught for freedom, (Jr for their Nth have bled; Their deeds are in the mouth of Time, They are not of the dead ; Opinion's martyrs all alone, Sink to their endless rest, Their virtues 'dumb, their worth unknown Their names a passing lest. Yet have they some remembrance Within the night of years ; The angels keep their record well, And dew ther graves with tears ; And lie, the lamb on Calvary Main, Who sits enthroned above— tie pays them for their lot of pain From the rich stores of love ! Vrttisian *tory. From Dsckilss• Household Words. A COUSIN I 1 NEED. (A N a dreary autumn day, more than a Vhu nd red years ago, a heavy traveling carriage was rlowly lumbering the mildly road from Potsdam to Berlin. Within was one parrot only, who took no heed of the slowness of the traveling ; but leaning buck in a corner, was arranging a multi • pheity of papers contained in a small port folio, and making notes in a pocket book. Since he was dressed in a plain dark mili tary uniform, it was fair to suppose 'hot this gentlemen belonged to the Prussian army, but to which grade of it, nobody could determine, as all tokens of rank had been avoided. A dreary November even ing was cloSing in, and though the rain had for a time ceased, yet dark masses of clouds flying through the sky gave warning that a "weeping darkness" was at hand. The road grew heavier and heavier, at least so it would have seemed to a toot tmveler, who was plowing his way through its mire; and so it doubtless seemed to the carriage horses, who at least floundered a long so slowly that tho pedestrian whom they had overtaken kept easily at the aide of the coach, at a respectful distance, cer tainly, after the first bucketfull of mud it splashed over him. Tho gentleman in the coach, wlmn he could see no longer, shut up his portfolio, and returned the pocket. book to its place in the breast lining of his coat. He then aroused himself to look out of the window, and judge from the mud and darkness how far it might be to Berlin. For the first time he perceived that a muddy young man was walking at a little distance from his horses. Though more than reasonably travel stained, he trudged on as if his limbs were strong and his heart light. Through the drizzle and the darkness all that could be seen of his face was sensible and good-tempered. Ho had just finished a pipe as he attracted the traveler's attention, and was in the act of shaking out the ashes and replacing the pipe in a wallet slung over his back, when he heard himself addressed in the manner following, and in rather an authoritative tone of voice : 'Boll° I young man, whither are you bound this stormy looking night 'That is more than I can tell you, not being at home in this part of the world. My wish is to reach Berlin, but if I find a resting place before I get there, to that 1 am bound, for I am weary.' .1 should think that you must have throe hours' walk before you," was the utisatis faCtory remark that followed. The young man made no reply, but af ter a short pause the stranger said— .lf it pleases you to rest on the step of the carriage for a few moments, you are welcome so to do, Herr What's-your-name? 'My name is Heinrich Meyer,' replied the young man, 'one of those who wisely never refuse the small benefit becauso the larger one is not to be obtained.' He thank fully accepted the not very clean place al. lotted to him, From the inside window the next ques• lion put to Heinrich was— 'What are going to Berlin for ?' 'To hunt for some cousins,' was tho an swer. 'And pray who may they be ?' asked the unknown. .Well, to tell the truth, I have no idea who they are, or where to look for them. Indeed, it is more doubtful whether I have a friend in Berlin much less a relation.' The questioner, who should have been an American colonel, looked amused and astonished as he suggested— 'Surely there must be some other motive for your going to Berlin, or what could have put this idea into your head 1' 'Why,' replied Heinrich, have just become a clergyman, without the smallest chance of getting anything to do in my own neighborhood. I have no relative to help me, and not quite money enough to find me in necessaries.' 'But,' said the Prussian. 'what on earth has this to do with your cousins in Heflin?' 'Well, now, who knows ? Many of my fellow-students have got good appointments and, whenever I asked them how It was done, the answer always was, 'a cousin, gave it to me,' or, got it through the in terest of a cousin who lives at Berlin:'— Now, as I find none of these useful cousins live in the country, I must go without their help or else hunt for them in Berlin.' This was all said in a comical dry way, Igo that his listener could not refrain from laughing, but he made no comment. How ever he pulled out a piece of paper and began to write upon it. When he had fin lolled he turned round to Heinrich, saying that he observed he had been smoking and that he felt inclined to do the same, but had forgotten to bring tinder with him.— Could Herr Meyer oblige him with light?' 'Certainly, with great pleasure,' was the prompt reply ; and Heinrich, taking a tin de-box out of his wallet immediately began to strike a light. Now, it has been said the evening was damp, It was so damp that there seemed little enough prospect of the tinder's lighting; moreover, the wind blew the sparks out almost before they fell. 'Well, if your cousins are not more ea sily to be got at than your light, I pity you young sir,' was the sole remark to which the stranger condescended while he watch ed Ileinrich's laborious endeavors. 'Nil de.sparandum, it my motto,'replied the young man, and when the words were scarcely uttered the light had been struck. In his delight at succeeding Heinrich jum. ped up upon the carriage stop, and lean ing through tho window, thrust the tinder eagerly in the direction of the gentleman's face. “Burra, sir, puff away !" After a short puse, during which time the arranger had been puffing at his, pipe, he removed it from his mouth, and address ed Heinrich in this way— .l have been thinking of what you have peen telling me, and perhaps, in a humble way, I might be able to help you, and thus act the part of the cousin you are seeking. At all events, when you get to Berlin take this note,' handing him the din of paper on which he lied been wri ting; 'take this note to Marshal Gumkow, is somewhat of a friend of mine, and who will, I think, be glad to oblige me. But mind ! Do exactly as he bids you, and a bide strictly by his advice. If he says he will help you, rely upon it he will keep his word; but he is eccentric, and the , way he sets about doing s kindness may per haps seem Enrage to you, And now," he continued, ..as the road is improved, I must hurry on the horses, and so bid you good evening hoping you will prosper in your new career." As Heinrich began to express his thanks for the good wishes of his unknown friend the signal was given ,o increase the speed of the horses, and before he had time tp make any acknowledgements be found himself alone again. The young man was not a little astonished at what had ta ken place ; and, es ho gazed on the slip of paper, could not help wondering wheth er any good would cotne of it. These were the only words written on it : "Dean Me.asnex : If you can forward the views of the bearer, Heinrich Meyer, you will oblige your friend, F. Let ine know the result of the inter view with him. Time will prove this, as it does all oth• ~ LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. " HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 19, 1856. er things," thought Heinrich, as he pro ceeded on his way. Somehow or other the road appeared less wearisome, and ho felt less tired and foot-sore, since receiving the mysterious bit of paper. Hope was stronger within him than she had been for many a day ; and on her wings he was carried pleasantly along, so that he reach ed Berlin by nightfall. The noise and bustle of the capital was new to him, and he found some little diffi culty in making his way to the gasthaus, to which he had been recommended by the pastor of his parish. The pastor, hav ing been once in Berlin, was considered, in his part of the world, an oracle in all matters connected with town life. The inn wee, however, found at last, and after a frugal supper and a good night's sleep our friend arose, ready to hope and believe every thing from the mysterious note, which he started forth to deliver im mediately after breakfast. Obliged to ask his way to Marshal Grum kow's he was amused and surprised at the astonishment depicated on the countenan ces of those persons of whom he made the inquiry as if they would say, "What business can you have with the Marshal Grunikow I" The house was however at last gained, and having delivered his missive to a ser vant Heinrich awaited the result in the hall. In a few minutes the servant re quested him, in the most respectful man. ner to follow him to the Marshals presence. Arrived there, he was received most cour teously : and the Marshal made many in qUiriets as to the past life and future pros pects; requested to be told the name of the village or town in which he had been last residing the school in which heihad been educated ; at what hs ho was liv ing in Berlin, and so forth. But still no allusion was made either to the note or the writer of it. The interview lasted about twenty minutes; at the end of which time the Marshal dismissed him, desiring that he would call again on that day fort night. Heinrich employed the interval in visit ing the lions of the town. There was a grand review of the troops on the King's birth day, and like .a loyal subject, our friend went to have a reverent stare at his Majesty, whom ho had never seen before. At one point of the review the King stop ped almost opposite to Heinrich, and then it was suggested to him, as the render pro pably suspects, that, after all, he must have seen that face somewhere before. Was it the friend who hailed him on the muddy road ? Impossible ! How should a King be tmvelling at that time of the day ? At any rate, it vexed him to think that he had not treated the gentlemarl in the coach in a very ceremonious manner. He had thrust the tinder at his nose and cried 'Puff away.' At last the time appointed for his second visit to the Marshal arrived. His recep tion was again most favorable. The Mar shal begged him to be seated at the table at which ho a-as writing, and proceeded at the same time to business. Unlocking a drawer and bringing forth a small bundle of papers, he asked Heinrich, as he drew them forth, one by one, if he knew in whose handwriting the various subscrip tions were? Heinrich answered that, to the best of his belief, one was that of Herr Mudel, his former school-master ; 'and another that of Dr. Von Hummer, the principal of such a college, and so on. 'Quite right,' remarked the Marshal; 'and perhaps you may not be surprised to hear that I have written to these different gentlemen to inquire your character, that I may know with whom I have to deal, and not be working in the dark.' As he said these words, the Marshal fix ed his eyes on Heinrich to see what effect they had, but the young man's countenance was unabashed—lto evidently feared no evil report. feel bound;' continued the Marshal, 'to tell you that all they say of you is most favorable, and I am equally bound to be lieve and act on their opinions. I have now to beg of you to follow me to a friend's house.' Thu Marshal descended a private stair case loading to the court-yard, crossing which he passed through a gate in tho wall into a narrow side street, down which he conducted Heinrich, till they arrived at a private entrance to the palace. Heinrich began to get exceedingly ner vous, the conviction that his idea was not a mere trick of the imagination. became stronger. Could he have had bis own wish, Heinrich Meyer would at that mo ment have been forty miles from Berlin.— At lag he found himself following Grum kow even into tho palace, he could not re frain from exclaiming— .Indeed; Herr Marshall, there must be some mistake I' No answer was vouchsafed, as the Mar filial continued tq lead hint through the various galleries and apartments, until at last they reached the very small door of one situated in a corner of a wing of the palace, where the Marshal's knock was answere by a short 'keine in." As thilloor opened, one glance sufficed to convince Heinrich that h a friend in the mud and the King were one and the same person. Tne poor cousin -seeker, greatly confused, knelt before Frederic Willham, and began faltering out some contrite ape logies, 'Rise, young man,' said the King, 'you have not committed treason. How upon earth could you guess who I was ? I should not travel quietly if I meant to be every where recognized.' After reassuring Eleinrich, the King told him that he was prepared to do what ho could to push him forward in the pro fession he had chosen, 'But first,' he said, 'I must hear you preach. On Sunday next, therefore, you shall preach before me; but mind I shall choose the text. You may retire.' By the time Heinrich Meyer reached his own room in the inn, he bad fixed in his mind the fact that he was to preach to the King. The fact was only too clear. and all he could do was to set about his sermon as soon as he should have been furnished with the text. For the remain der of that day he never stirred out ; eve ry step on the stair was to his ear the hea rer of the text. Nevertheless, evening and night passed and the next day was tar, advanced, but still no text. What was was to be dente ? lie must go and consult tho Marshal; but the latter could give him no further' information,— All he could do was to promise that if the King sent the text through him, it should be forwarded with the utmost dispatch possible. That day and the next passed, and yet Heinrich heart nothing front either King or Marshal. Only an official intimation had been sent, as was customary, that he had beets selected as the preacher on the following Sunday at the Chapel Royal. If it had not been that Heinrich knew himself to possess no mean powers of era. tory, and that he could even extemporize in case of emergency, he would certainly have run away from Berlin and abjured his discovered cousin. As it was, he abi ded by the course of events and fortified himself by prayer and philosophy for the momentous hour. Sunday morning arrived, but no text.— Heinrich went to the church appointed, and was conducted to the seat always set apart for the preacher of the day. The King with the royal family occupied their accustomed places. The cervices coipmenced, and, whilst the organ pealed forth its solemn sounds, the preacher was led to thu pulpit. The congregation were astonished, not only at his yoethfuiness, but at his being an utter stranger. The pulpit steps were gained ; and the though flashed across Heinrich's mind that possibly he should find the text placed for hint on the desk. But, as he was on the point of mounting the stairs, an officer of the royal household delivered to him a folding pieco of paper, saying, 'His Majesty sends you the text.' After reciting the preliminary prayers the preacher opened Ile paper, and lo ! it was blank ; not a word was written on it, What was to be done ? Heinrich deliber ate y examined the whito sheet, and, after a short pause, held it up before the congre gation saying, 'His Majesty has furnished the text for my sermon. But you may perceive that nothing whatever is upon the sheet of pa per. .Out of nothing God created the world.' I shall therefore take the crea tion for the subject of my discourse this morning.' In accordance with this decision the preacher went through the whole of the first chapter of Genesis in a masterly way, his style being forcible and clear, and his fluency of language remarkable. The au dience, accustomed to the King's eccentri cities, were far more astonished at the dexterity with which the preacher had ex tricated himself front the difficulty than at the dilemma in which he had boon placed. At last the sermon was ended, the congre gation dismissed, and Heinrich found him self in the sacristy receiving the congrat ulations of several dignitaries of the church who all prophesied for him a brilliant fu ture. Heinrich ventured to express his Wain, meet at the singular proceeding of the king, but was told that ho could on ly have arrived recently from the provin ces if he did not know that such vagries were quite common to his majesty. In the midst of the conversation a messenger arrived to conduct him to the royal pre- Bence. Being totally unaware what im pression his sermon might have had upon the king, the cousin•seeker rather dreaded the approaching audience. But Heinrich had scarcely crossed tho threshold of the King's room when his Majesty jumped up and thrust a roll of paper in his face at the same time exclaiming, 'Harm, sir, puff away ;. take this for the light you gave me !` Then, throwing himself back in a chair he laughed heartily at the young preach er's look of surprise and confusion. The latter scarcely knew what reply to make or what to do, but just as he got so far as 'Your Majesty,' the King interrupted him saying— 'Make no fine speeches, go home quietly and examine the contents of the paper.— You came to Berlin to seek a cousin ; you have found one who, if you go on steadi ly will not neglect you.' It is hardly necessary to add that the roll of paper contained a good appointment at the University of Berlin, and made Hein rich Meyer one of the royal preachers. *dtctccllnn r, Brother Crawford's Farewell Sermon. During my sojourn in Mississppi, (short- ly after I heard the great sermon, which was piny'd on a harp of a thousand strings) I had occasion to visit a friend in the neigh borhood of Port Gibson. The neat day be-' ing Sabbath, I accompanied him to Zion Chapel. A now minister had been called to that neighborhood, and this was to bo his salutatory sermon. Zion Chapel was some hunderd yards from the main road and surrounded by for est trees. Having arrived rather too early for the services, myself and friend saun• Cored about the woods, rather actively em ployed in brushing away the mosquitoes that surrounded us. At length a strange specimen of the goons horns made his ap perance on horseback; it was Good Brother Crawford. Ills dress was decidedly peculiar. On his head he wore an old fashioned boll crowned beaver, several sizes too large.— To remedy this defect a cotton bandana handkerchief was stuffed between the hat and his forehead. His coat was of a most ancient pattern; blue with brass but tons, short waist witlt long shallow tail,— The collar came within an inch of hiding the back part of his head. His vest was extremely long. And his pants ditto short. The latter were hold down by a leather strap passed under a huge pair of brogans of an untanned leather color. Although his presence strongly suggested Dan Mar ble in his yankee character of Jonathan Homespun. Hut to the sermon—or at least a portion of it.—for it was utterly im possible to report the whole. The congregation was largo, as it had been 'narrated' abroad that the new preach er was to make his debut at Zion. Brother Crawford slunk into the pulpit with moro than ordinary humility, and af ter devoting a few moments in silent pray er ho rose. Gingerly pushing up the sleeves of his store coat, whereby ho displayed a pair of large ; long, bony hands, of a beet color, he grasped the handle of an earthen pitcher and poured into a tin cup a draught of wa ter. which he drank with inimitable gus to. • His appearance in the pulpit was a study for an artist. His face wss long and lank, eyes pale grey, nose acqutlino, complexion, sandy,. hair greyish sandy, head bald on the top, with the exception of small pitch on the organs 01 reverence, (as if to shade it,) and, altogether, the picture of Greely while iuditing a Free Soil Abolition docu ment for the benefit of his Southern sub sciibers. He began appologetically as follows ~ Y ou don't sco me to-day in the dress I oilers wear; I come among you as a stranger, and I am now tricked out in my store clothes. I ant not a proud man, but I thought it would be more becoming be fore strangers. After this he raised a hymn, in which tho congregation joined. He then began his sermon : .My dear breethron and sisters, first and foremost, I'm gwine to toll you the af fecting parting I had with my congrega tion at Bethel Chapel. After I had got through with my farewell sermont, as I came down oulen the pulpit, the old grey headed breotherou and sisters who listen to my voice twenty years crowded around me, and with sobbing voices and tearful eyes, said,farewell brother Crawford. As I walked down the isle, the young ladies, tricked out in their finery of brass jewelry, gew paws, tim cracks, paint and flounces, looked up with their bright eyes and pronounced with their rosy lips--fare well brother Cranford. The young men in their tight patent leather boots, high collars and dashy waist coat—smelling of pomatum and cigar smoke—With shanghai coats, and stripped ;ebra pants—they too said—farewell broth er Crawford. The little children—lambs in the field— lifted up their tiny hands and small voices, and with one accord said—farewell broth er Crawford. The colored brethren of the congrega tion now came forward—(black sheep who had been admitted to the fold under my ministry,) with tears rolling down their sable cheeks, they too said—Farewell bro' Crawford. As I got on ray horse and bade adieu to my congregation for ever—l turned to take a last look at the old church where I had preached for morn twenty years—and as I gazed at its dilapidated wall and moss covered roof, it too seemed to any—Fare- wdl brother Crawford, As I rode down through the village, the people who poked their heads outen the winders, and the servants who leant on their brooms, all seemed to say—Farewell brother Crawford. As I passed along down the highway, through the forest, the wind as it sighed and whistled through the tree tops, it too seemed to say—Farewell brother Craw ford! Crossing a little creek that was gurgling and singing over its pebbly bed, as it re joiced on its way to the great ocean of e ternity, it too seemed to say—Farewell brother Crawford. As I rode along down a hot dusty lane an old sow that was asleep in a fence corner, jumped out a! a suddent. with a loud broo oo, broo oo—she to seemed to say—Fare well brother Crawfor.,. The Cradle of Napoleon's Fatnre Heir. We translate from the correspondence of the Independence Belgo the following description of the cradle which the city of Paris is about to offer to the future heir of Napoleon 111 'This cradle is a real chef crwinire, in the decoration of which all the arts seem to have vied with each other. It far sur passes the celebrated cradle of the King of Rome, and, a description of it may not prove uninteresting to our readers. 'The cradle is in the form of a ship, which is the principal emblem in the coat of arms of the city of Paris. At the prow, a silver eagle, with wings outspread, is in the act of flying. On the stern the city of Paris, crowned with towers, sustains above the pillow an imperial crown of silver, to which are attached the curtains. The fig ure is flunked by two others representing children, the one wearing a hemlet, the other a crown of olive branches, personify ing Peace and War; the three statuetts are of silver, and half the size of life. "The little vessel reposes on two supports formed each of two miniature columns, and ',faced one at each end of the cradle. These supports are joined together by a long bluster. The extremities of the sup ports, and of the bluster that joins them, are of solid silver. The body of the cra dle is made entirely of rosewood, so sculp tured as to receive the branches• of laurel and silver ornaments that cover it almost entirely, On each side of the cradle are two medallions of blood red jasper, richly framed in silver, and destined to be wrought into emblematical devices. 'Below al rosewopd hand-rail that completely surrounds the upper part of the cradle-ship, estends an open-work gallery cf quaint architecture, and covered with silver ornaments. This gallery is intersected on each side by o silver ear touch bearing the cyphers of their majes. ties un a ground work of enamel. From this cartouch depends garlands silver flow ers, which, descending to the middle of the ship's hull, puss below various medal. lions of jasper, and wind, :the one around the prow, the other around the stern, thus relieving the uniformity of the vessel. 'Behind the stern house, of which the angels are adorned with wing sirens in sil ver, a rich , silver cartouch, surrounded with branches of laurel and olive, supports the arms of the city of Paris—enamelled and surmounted by the mural crown. A round these, olive and laurel brimehes are rolled the device of the city, written in letters of gold on an enammelled brandrol. The double curtains of the cradle are made of Alonlon lace and blue silk, embroidered VOL. XXI. NO. 12. Experiments on Tobacco Smoke. In Froiend's Journal, of a recent date, an interesting article has been published on the habit of tobacco smoking, and on poisoning by nicotine. Among the facts there mentioned, are experiments institu ted by M. Malapert, a pharmacien, of Poi tiers. His intention was to ascertain the exact quantity of nicotine absorbed by smokers in proportion to the weight of-to bacco consumed. The apparatus consists of a stone jar, in which the tobacco was made to burn, connected with a series of bottles commu nicating by tubes. The bottles were ei ther empty, or contained some water mix ed with a little sulphuric acid. From a few experiments it wits found that, in the smoke of tobacco extracted by inspiration there is ten per cent, noeotine. Thus a man who smokes a cigar of the weight of seventy grains, receives in his mouth seven grains of nicotine, mixed with a little wa tery vapor, tar, empyreumatic &c.— Although a large portion of this nicotine is rejected, both by the smoke puffed from the mouth, and by the saliva, a portion of it is, nevertheless, taken up the vessel of the buccal and laryngel mucous membrane, circulated with the blood, and acts upon the brain. With those unaccustomed to the use of tobacco the nicotine, when in contract with the latter organ, produces vertigo, nausea, headache, and somnolence while habitual smokers are merely thrown into a state of excitement, similar to that produced by moderate quantities of wine or tea. From further investigation it was found that the drier the tobacco the less nicotine reaches the mouth. A very dry cigar, while burning, yields a very small amount of watery vapor ; the smoke cools rapidly and allows the condensation of the nicotine before it reaches the mouth. Here tt comes that the first half of a cigar smokes more mildly that the second, in which a certain amount of condensed watery vapor and nicotine, freed by the first half, are deposited. The same remark applies to smoking tobacco in pipes, and if smokers were prudent, they would never consume but half a cigar or pipe, and throw away the other. Smoking through water, or with long tubes and small bowls, is also precaution which should not be neglect ed. Notes on the Mississippi. 'rho story is familiar of the man who took passage in a flat-boat from Pittsburg bound for New Orleans. He passed many dreary, listless days on his way down the Ohio and Mississippi, and seemed to be, desponding fur want of excitement. Su perficially, he was perfectly good natured and kindly disposed. in the course of time the craft upon which he was a passenger put into Napoleon, in the the State of Ar kansas, "for groceries." At the moment there was a general fight extending all a. long the "front of the town," which at that time consisted of a single house. The unhappy passenger, fidgetting a bout, and jerking his feet up and down, as if he were walking on hot bricks, turned to a "tsod spectator," and observed : .Stranger; is this a free fight?' reply was prompt and to the point: ar, and if you wish to go in, don't stand on ceremony.' The wayfarer did “go in," and in less time than wo can relate the circumstance, ho was literally clawed up. Uropitsg.his way down to the gat, his hair gone, his eyes closed, bin lips swollen, and his face generally "mapped out," he sat hiruseli down on a chicken-coop, and soliloquised thus : 'So this is Napo-le-on, is it !' upon my word it's a lively place and the only one I have had any fun at since I left home.' Gentlemen's Fashions for March Hot, a /a soft, not to hurt the head ; stucho, a la lager bier verein : board a la Abraham. Coat, shanghai cut, two inches below the knee, circumference of waist and shoulder equal, Pants, skin tight, no pockets, nothing to put in 'cm. Boots two. inches short, giving the foot a graceful plumpness by bending the toes under, thus preventing othorpoople's treadingon them. Business men wear over coats with a large outside pocket on tho left breast. Front tips protrudes two inches of a long leather institution, filled with slips of paper, which by a pleasant thouglt somewhat extrava gant fiction, aro supposed to represent va lue. Snufftaktng having become unfash ionable, it is' now considered "quite the thing" to draw this leather case, and selec • ting from it a slis of paper, present this to each friend you meet. The response most in vogue Is, a gracoful 4 kave of the hand. (signifying, l decline,) a gracious smile, and the playful remark, "don't you wilt you may Oct it."