remost. He was always loudest in proclaiming the "dooty of
the milingtary to support the civil power." Yet in the great riot
caused by the illegal impounding of Steve Gubbins's bull, when
Bluetown was divided against itself, her constabulary force and
"specials" ignominiously beaten and routed, Captain Muggs, with an
heroic deafness to the call of glory and the selectmen, from a
reluctance to shed the blood of his fellow-citizens, refused to call
out his company, and concealed himself in a hayloft till the affray
was over, the pound completely demolished, and the bull rescued from
the minions of the law.

The loss of such a man is irreparable. What a president he would have
made! Magnanimity, self-denial, punctuality, eloquence, popularity,
military glory--why, he had all the elements of success. But our
heroes are fast passing away. Muggs is gone, and we must make up our
minds to be governed by mere statesmen!

THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.

It was a fine night in the autumn of the year 1805, and the stars
shone as brilliantly over the gay city of Paris as if they had burned
in an Italian heaven. The cumbrous mass of the palace of the
Tuileries, instead of lying like a dark leviathan in the shadows of
the night, blazed with light in all its many-windowed length; for the
soldier emperor, the idol of his subjects, that night gave a grand
ball and reception to the world. Troops in full uniform were under
arms, and the great lamps of the court yard gazed brightly on the
channelled bayonets and polished musket barrels of the sentinels.
Carriage after carriage drew up at the great portal, and emitted
beautiful ladies, brilliantly attired, and marshals and staff officers
blazing with embroidery; for Napoleon, simple and unostentatious in
his own person, well knew the importance of surrounding himself with a
brilliant court; and the people, even the rude and ragged denizens of
the Faubourgs St. Antoine and St. Marceau, as they hung upon the iron
railing and scanned the splendid dresses of the guests as they
alighted from their carriages, were well pleased to see that a throne
created by themselves could vie in splendor with the old hereditary
seats of loyalty that existed in spite of the execrations of the
million. They marked with pleasure the arms of some of the ancient
Bourbon nobility on the panels of some of the glittering equipages,
for all the aristocracy of France had not joined the banners of her
adversaries.

Wit