craved his blessing. His arrival in Paris, created an intense sensation. The same populace, who ten years before, had wor. shipped the Goddess of Reason, crowded beneath his windows, and hailed his presence with loud acclamations. The old man delighted with his reception, by degrees became reassured, his fears vanished, and his spirits assumed their wonted tone. Sunday, the second day of December, was the day appointed for the coronation. It was a cold winter's day, the sun shining out bright and clear-a day not unlike that, when forty years later, the mortal remains of the great conqueror, brought back from his island-prison, were transported in triumph through his former capital. At an early hour the senators and members of the council of state and legislative body, the deputies of the cities, and dignitaries of the empire, the bishops and their clergy, the officers of the army and navy, and the foreign princes and ambassadors, assembled within the ancient basilic of St. Louis, clothed in robes of office and state, and glittering with stars, and ribbons and uniforms. At ten o'clock, the Pope, gorgeously attired, and attended by a numerous body of clergy, and escorted by detachments of the imperial guard, set out from the palace of the Tuilleries, and as he entered the Cathedral, preceded by the cross, and the ensigns of his office; "all present rose from their seats, and five hundred musicians pealed forth in solemn strain the consecrated chant, Tu es Petrus." All now waited for the emperor; who seated in a magnificent carriage, and escorted by the most distinguished officers of his army, on horseback, and by a long line of soldiers, proceeded slowly towards the church of Notre Dame, amidst an immense multitude, who lined the streets through which the cortege passed, and who greeted his presence with loud acclamations. He entered the Cathedral, wearing a golden laurel, "the crown of the Cæsars," and amid the sound of music, passing on to a chair near the altar, sat down in front of the throne, the empress being seated at his side. The ceremony then commenced. The Pope poured the holy oil on the forehead, the arms, and the hands of the emperor "blessed the sword with which he girded him, and the sceptre which he placed in his hand, and approached to take up the crown." All eyes were now fixed on Napoleon. Should he who by the force of talent had worked his way to empire, who ruled, not by the divine right of kings, but by the divine right of the people to confer power upon him, should he suffer the crown to be placed on his head by another; or should he, the representative of the nation, place it there with his own hands. The French and Roman rituals, both directedaccording to one, the peers, according to the other, the bishops, holding the crown suspended over the head of the kneeling monarch-that the Pope laying his hands upon it, should place it upon the brow of the sovereign. But Napoleon, untramelled by precedents, determined otherwise. That eye so quick to discern every movement on the battle-field, watched the movement of his holiness; that mind so ready to decide every question, had already determined what course to pursue. Approaching the table whereon the crown lay, and quickly taking it up, with a firm hand he slowly raised it, and then lowered it upon his own head; then taking the crown of the empress, he with perfect grace, and a "visible tenderness," placed it upon the head of Josephine, as she knelt before him, who overcome by her emotions, burst into tears. The whole movement was managed with such perfect propriety, and was so well suited to the occasion and the actors, as to produce an indescribable effect upon those who witnessed it; and formed a scene, which one of the great painters of the day has, with admirable effect, transferred to the canvas. The emperor and the empress then crossing over from the altar, ascended the throne, he followed by his brothers, bearing the train of his imperial robes; her's being borne by his sisters. The Pope approaching, bestowed his benediction, and raised the chant of those "words which greeted Charlemagne, when proclaimed Emperor of the West-Vivat in æternum semper Augustus." The solemn oath, to maintain the integrity of the territory of the Republic, to respect the equality of rights, political and civil liberty, and the liberty of worship, and to govern with no other views, but to the interest, the happiness, and the glory of the French Republic, being administered, the ceremony ended; and Napoleon, a plebeian by birth, consecrated with every imposing formality, ranked among the princes of the earth. Springfield, Mass., April, 1848. THE LAWYER'S DREAM. "I had a dream, which was not all a dream." My dear reader, please to excuse the triteness of the quotation, for the sake of its appropriateness. It was about the middle of one of those pleasant afternoons in the early spring, when a warm wind tempts flies and loafers out from their winter holes. The air was drugged with sleep, as my poetical friend, Thomas Moore Jones, would say; which means, if you prefer plain prose, that the man who could keep his eyes open over a law-book, for the hour next after dinner, could be no believer in Sancho Panza's blessing. The warm breath out of doors, in fact belonged to May, but it had in some way wandered into March, where it came between a cold yesterday and an expected, cold to-morrow, like a slice of ham in a sandwich, very deliciously. As it strayed in through the half-opened window, and gently disturbed some papers on the desk, and seemed to contrast itself boastingly with the heat of the stove, is it to be wondered, that, seated in an arm chair, I-fell asleep. Some men Give me the man, by the way, who loves his sleep. never sleep; they only lie down, with their eyes shut. They have no relish for that delicious fading away of all perception of thought, which is the vestibule of old Morpheus's poppy-scented palace. Such are your true money-lovers, who lament that they cannot coin sleep into gold, and dreams into silver; who begrudge themselves even their scanty allowance of "tired nature's sweet restorer;" because they know that while they are dreaming, the Chinese, on the other side of the world, are awake and making money. Such men are not to be trusted. "Let me have men about me, that are fat, So thought Cæsar. See, too, what wealth of words our great poet has lavished upon sleep "the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, Could he ever have written that, if he had not known the luxury of an afternoon nap? But to return, scarcely had my head dropped into a comfortable position, and the clatter of a neighboring tin-ware shop had scarcely ceased to ring upon my ears, when a strange sight appeared, not to the outward eyes, but to those inner optics, which clairvoyants and dreamers use. The doors of the book-case before me opened; but they disclosed no regular rows of calf-bound volumes, dry within, and dusty without, like a traveller on a hot summer's day. Coke, and Kent, and Chitty, and all the others, familiar to legal ears as household words," had disappeared. I gazed with astonishment. If but one half had been absent, I should have known even in a dream, that they had been, what is called by legal fiction, borrowed. But all at one fell sweep"-I could not understand it. And there, to add to my wonder, stood in their places, upon the shelves, a confused crowd of grotesque, Lilliputian figures; some thin and spare in body, and some of aldermanic proportions. As I looked, the confusion abated, and the little figures arranged themselves regularly where my departed books had once stood, and faced me like a regiment of veteran soldiers. They were in uniform; all dressed in complete sets of calf-skin, as if they had cut up the book covers to make themselves clothing. In all other respects their appearance was as various as possible. Some had weapons, some had papers, and some had neither; while one, whose name I had afterwards learned was Estoppel, had a gag fastened in his mouth. One had an almanac, with his finger upon a certain day; another had a map, and was pointing out a certain place. While I was wondering what all this meant, one of the figures stepped forward, and drawing out a paper from his pocket, began to remark that it was a declaration. But before he could tell me what it declared, another, with a venerable face and broad shoulders, dressed in an odd looking suit of old fashioned breeches, and a modern jockey coat, pushed his way past the whole row, and very unceremoniously crowding the first speaker out of his place, took off his hat, and addressed me thus: "Sir-My name is Ejectment. I entered into the service of gentleman of your profession, as early as the reign of Edward IV., and have been in their employ ever since that time. In my early life I was employed only in small tasks, but I was found to be so convenient and useful, that I was promoted, and was made to perform the duties which properly belonged to older servants, now, alas! deceased." Here a tear trickled down his wrinkled cheek. "Though I am old," he continued, "yet like Moses, my eye is not dim, nor is my natural force abated; and I had hoped to spend many more years in your service. But the fatal Three* have forbidden this. I am abolished. We are all abolished. I have therefore come with my companions to take leave of you for ever; wishing you, in the words of my old master, 'the gladsome light of Jurisprudence, the loveliness of Temperance, the stability of Fortitude, and the solidity of Justice."" เ He evidently spoke the feelings of the others, for as he finished, a little figure in the crowd immediately exclaimed, "Similiter, I do the like," and a hum of approbation arose from all. The whole affair was so surprising, that I should not have known what to reply, had I not perceived, or thought that I perceived, on each side of him, a shadowy, indistinct, and ghost-like form. I immediately requested him to inform who, or what these were. "Ah, sir," he answered, with a sigh, "that question reminds me of my greatest loss. This," laying his hand on one of them, "this is the shade of the departed John Doe-stat nominis umbra -the other is the shade of his companion, Richard Roe. Friends of my youth! Not even James Jackson ever supplanted them in my affections. Always opposed, but never quarreling, they were two hostile swords, which hung peacefully together, after the fight was over." With these words, delivered in a dignified tone, the old gentleman moved to the door, and disappeared. Another figure took his place, armed from head to foot, and carrying a miniature pattern of every variety of offensive weapon which the ingenuity of man ever invented. The Irish shillelah, the western bowie-knife, the English pistol; clubs, canes, dirks, daggers, sticks, stones, bayonets, and bludgeons, formed a part of his miscellaneous accoutrement. In a milder voice than could be Did the old gentleman mean the three fates of ancient days, or the equally unsparing three commissioners of the present time? Quære de hoc. expected from a person so ferociously armed, he informed me that he was Assault and Battery-that notwithstanding his formidable appearance, he was really very harmless-but that the commissioners (and as he said this, he shook his cane threatingly,) had become frightened at his large words, and had discharged him. Seeing a pack of playing cards in his hand, I enquired the meaning of this, and he told me that he carried them in remembrance of Lord Eldon's witticism, which had once saved his own, and established his lordship's reputation. As he said this, he marched off, muttering "the commissioners," and apparently bestowing with his cane, numerous hard blows upon some imaginary persons. Another succeeded, wearing, as one could easily detect, false hair and false teeth. He had scarcely commenced to address me, when he interrupted himself, and said that he had lost his watch, and that I had found it, and had converted it to my own use. This impudent accusation so provoked me, that I seized an inkstand to throw at him; but he was too quick for me, and in a second had vanished. Next came forward a well-dressed figure, with a heavy seal hanging from his watch chain, and a signet ring on his finger. He informed me that his name was Covenant; that he did not much regret his dismissal, for he had considered himself degraded, ever since he had been placed on an equality with his time-serving companion, Assumpsit, who could not afford to wear a watch and much less a seal; that the law had sunk from its former dignity, and was rather a dirty trade at present, and that he doubted whether even these meddling commissioners could sink it any lower. And so, looking contemptuously at those who remained, and playing pompously with his seals, he strutted out through the door. The next who came to take leave, was Assumpit himself. He said that he did not understand what fault could be found with him; that he had always worked hard, and had done all kinds of work; that when there was any thing which no other servant could undertake, he was always ready for the task. True he had made many promises, and had perhaps broken some of them; but that he had usually fulfilled them, whenever requested so to do. He had a large and industrious family, dependent on his and their toil for support; and that all of them, although titled and honored with the rank of counts, were yet as laborious as any working men could be. He had represented his condition to the commissioners, and had promised and had undertaken (since that word was a favorite of theirs,) to redouble his labors, if he might be permitted to remain. But they were inexorable, and he should be obliged to leave. He concluded by saying, with his handkerchief before his eyes, that as he was the first servant whose acquaintance I had made, he hoped that he would be the last to be forgotten. I assured him of my remembrance, and added that I thought he had some claim for charity upon the printers, as he had been a source |