The "leading journal of the world" occasionally indulges in a pleasantry, as in this example:
"A surgical operation under the influence of chloroform has just terminated fatally, to the regret of the public, to whom the patient was well known. One of the brown bears in the Zoological Garden suffering from cataract of the eye, an eminent surgeon and a party of gelehrter assembled to undertake his cure. Bruin was tempted to the bars of his den by the offer of some bread, and then secured by ropes and a muzzle. After a stout resistance, chloroform was administered. In a state of insensibility the cataract was removed, and the bonds untied, but the patient showed no signs of life! Feathers to the nose, cold buckets of water, and bleeding produced no effect. Poor Bruin had gone whither the great tortoise, two ostriches, and the African lion have preceded him, for the managers of the Berlin gardens are decidedly unlucky. With the trifling drawback of the death of the subject, the operation was skilfully and successfully performed."
We find the following anecdote as related by Baron Oldhausen: it conveys an admirable lesson:
"Charles XII., of Sweden, condemned a soldier, and stood at a distance from the place of execution. The fellow, when he heard this, was in hopes of a pardon, but being assured that he was mistaken, replied with a loud voice, 'My tongue is still free, and I will use it at my pleasure.' He did so, and charged the king, with much insolence, and as loud as he could speak, with injustice and barbarity, and appealed to God for revenge. The king, not hearing him distinctly, inquired what the soldier had been saying. A general officer, unwilling to sharpen his resentment against the poor man, told his majesty he had only repeated with great earnestness, 'That God loves the merciful, and teaches the mighty to moderate their anger.' The king was touched by these words, and sent his pardon to the criminal. A courtier, however, in an opposite interest, availed himself of this occasion and repeated to the king exactly the licentious expressions which the fellow uttered, adding gravely, that 'men of quality ought never to misrepresent facts to their sovereign.' The king for some moments stood pausing, and then turned to the courtier, saying, with reproving looks, 'This is the first time I have been betrayed to my advantage; but the lie of your enemy gave me more pleasure than your truth has done.'"
A report is current in Europe that an expedition is to be sent from France into the sea of Japan. It is said that it will consist of a frigate, a corvette, and a steamer, under the orders of a Rear-Admiral who has long navigated in the Pacific Ocean and the Chinese seas. "This expedition will", it is added, "be at once military, commercial, and scientific, and has for object to open to European commerce states which have been closed against it since the sixteenth century." Notwithstanding the sanction which the principle involved received a few years ago, from an illustrious American, we cannot regard the proposed expedition otherwise than as an act of the most shameless villainy by a nation. The Japanese are a peculiar race, and our readers who have seen a series of articles on the subject of their civilization and polity in late numbers of the Tribune, will not be disposed to think the people of Japan inferior to those of France, just now, in any of the best elements of a state. We, as well as the Japanese themselves, understand perfectly well that the opening of their ports to the Europeans and Americans, would be followed by the demoralization and overthrow of their empire.
Mr. Carlyle, in the following brief composition, of which the original was shown us a few days ago, furnishes a model for autograph writers.