Part 4 — COMIC MISERIES. JOHN G. SAXE.

My dear young friend, whose shining wit Sets all the room a-blaze, Don't think yourself a "happy dog," For all your merry ways; But learn to wear a sober phiz, Be stupid, if you can, It's such a very serious thing To be a funny man!

You're at an evening party, with A group of pleasant folks,— You venture quietly to crack The least of little jokes,— A lady doesn't catch the point, And begs you to explain— Alas for one that drops a jest And takes it up again!

You're talking deep philosophy With very special force, To edify a clergyman With suitable discourse,— You think you 've got him—when he calls A friend across the way, And begs you'll say that funny thing You said the other day!

You drop a pretty jeu-de-mot Into a neighbor's ears, Who likes to give you credit for The clever thing he hears, And so he hawks your jest about The old authentic one, Just breaking off the point of it, And leaving out the pun!

By sudden change in politics, Or sadder change in Polly, You, lose your love, or loaves, and fall A prey to melancholy, While every body marvels why Your mirth is under ban,— They think your very grief "a joke," You're such a funny man!

You follow up a stylish card That bids you come and dine, And bring along your freshest wit (To pay for musty wine), You're looking very dismal, when My lady bounces in, And wonders what you're thinking of And why you don't begin!

You're telling to a knot of friends A fancy-tale of woes That cloud your matrimonial sky, And banish all repose— A solemn lady overhears The story of your strife, And tells the town the pleasant news: You quarrel with your wife!

My dear young friend, whose shining wit Sets all the room a-blaze, Don't think yourself "a happy dog," For all your merry ways; But learn to wear a sober phiz, Be stupid, if you can, It's such a very serious thing To be a funny man!

IDEES NAPOLEONIENNES. WILLIAM AYTOUN.

The impossibility of translating this now well-known expression (imperfectly rendered in a companion-work, "Ideas of Napoleonism"), will excuse the title and burden of the present ballad being left in the original French.—TRANSLATOR.

Come, listen all who wish to learn How nations should be ruled, From one who from his youth has been In such-like matters school'd; From one who knows the art to please, Improve and govern men— Eh bien! Ecoutez, aux Idees, Napoleoniennes!

To keep the mind intently fixed On number One alone— To look to no one's interest, But push along your own, Without the slightest reference To how, or what, or when— Eh bien! c'est la premiere Idee Napoleonienne.

To make a friend, and use him well, By which, of course, I mean To use him up—until he's drain'd Completely dry and clean Of all that makes him useful, and To kick him over then Without remorse—c'est une Idee Napoleonienne.

To sneak into a good man's house With sham credentials penn'd— to sneak into his heart and trust, And seem his children's friend— To learn his secrets, find out where He keeps his keys—and then To bone his spoons—c'est une Idee Napoleonienne.

To gain your point in view—to wade Through dirt, and slime, and blood— To stoop to pick up what you want Through any depth of mud. But always in the fire to thrust Some helpless cat's-paw, when Your chestnuts burn—c'est une Idee Napoleonienne.

To clutch and keep the lion's share— To kill or drive away The wolves, that you upon the lambs May, unmolested, prey— To keep a gang of jackals fierce To guard and stock your den, While you lie down—c'est une Idee Napoleonienne.

To bribe the base, to crush the good, And bring them to their knees— To stick at nothing, or to stick At what or whom you please— To stoop, to lie, to brag, to swear, Forswear, and swear again— To rise—Ah! voia des Idees Napoleoniennes.