ar. The poor wretch was
alone when he committed the desperate deed, and in his madness,
throwing the bloody razor upon the ground, ran part of the way up the
hill. Here he was found almost senseless, and brought back to the
Humboldt, where he was very nearly the cause of hanging poor Paganini
Ned, who returned a few weeks since from the valley; for his first act
on recovering himself was to accuse that culinary individual of having
attempted to murder him. The mob were for hanging one poor Vattel
without judge or jury, and it was only through the most strenuous
exertions of his friends that the life of this illustrious person was
saved. Poor Ned! It was forty-eight hours before his corkscrews
returned to their original graceful curl. He threatens to leave us to
our barbarism, and no longer to waste his culinary talents upon an
ungrateful and inappreciative people. He has sworn war to the knife
against Henry, who was formerly his most intimate friend, as nothing
can persuade him that the accusation did not proceed from the purest
malice on the part of the would-be suicide.

Their majesties the mob, with that beautiful consistency which usually
distinguishes those august individuals, insisted upon shooting poor
Harry, for, said they,--and the reasoning is remarkably conclusive and
clear,--a man so hardened as to raise his hand against his _own_ life
will never hesitate to murder another! They almost mobbed F. for
binding up the wounds of the unfortunate wretch, and for saying that it
was possible he might live. At last, however, they compromised the
matter by determining that if Henry should recover he should leave the
Bar immediately. Neither contingency will probably take place, as it
will be almost a miracle if he survives.

On the day following the attempted suicide, which was Sunday, nothing
more exciting happened than a fight and the half-drowning of a drunken
individual in the river, just in front of the Humboldt.

On Sunday last the thigh of Senor Pizarro was amputated, but, alas!
without success. He had been sick for many months with chronic
dysentery, which, after the operation, returned with great violence,
and he died at two o'clock on Monday morning, with the same calm and
lofty resignation which had distinguished him during his illness. When
first wounded, believing his case hopeless, he had decidedly refused to
submit to amputation, but as time wore on he was persuaded to take this
one chance for his lif