He remained in this state of stupor for a few moments, whilst Bradbury and the peace-officer stood looking at each other, scarcely believing the evidence of their senses; and recovering himself a little, he stood up, gazed wildly at one and then at the other, and gasping with the intensity of his feelings, he rushed to his dressing-table, and like lightning drew a razor across his throat. Surgical assistance being on the spot, the wound was first pronounced not to be mortal. The effect of the scene--the look of the man--his maniac look, and the act or desperation accompanying it--his rank in life, and every circumstance connected with it, had such an effect on poor Bradbury that he lost his reason, and did not recover it for a year afterwards. The matter could not be kept a secret. The truly unfortunate and miserable Captain C---- of course lost his commission, and it is not known what afterwards became of him. There was, however, no prosecution. The punishment was sufficient. W. E. * * * * * ELEVATION OF THE MIND.--Lofty elevation of mind does not make one indifferent to the wants and sufferings of those who are below him: on the contrary, as the rarified air of mountains makes distant objects seem nearer, so are all his fellow-beings brought nearer to the heart of him who looks upon them from the height of his wisdom. * * * * * NAPOLEON AFTER DEATH.--Death had marvellously improved the appearance of Napoleon, and every one exclaimed, when the face was exposed, “How very beautiful!” for all present acknowledged that they had never seen a finer or more regular and placid countenance. The beauty of the delicate Italian features was of the highest kind; whilst the exquisite serenity of their expression was in the most striking contrast with the recollections of his great actions, impetuous character, and turbulent life. As during his eventful career there was much of the mysterious and inscrutable about him, even after death Napoleon’s inanimate remains continued a puzzle and a mystery: for, notwithstanding his great sufferings and the usual emaciating effects of the malady that destroyed him, the body was found enormously fat. The frame was as unsusceptible of material disintegration as the spirit was indomitable. Over the sternum, or breast bone, which is generally only thinly covered, there was a coat of fat an inch and a half thick; and on the abdomen two inches, whilst the omentum, kidneys, and heart, were loaded with fat. The last organ was remarkably small, and the muscle flabby, in contradiction to our ideal associations, and in proof of the seeming paradox, that it is possible to be a very great man with a very little heart. Much anxiety was felt at the time to ascertain the disease of which Bonaparte died. Mr O’Meara had represented the liver as the faulty organ, and this has been echoed