tobacco-pouch, attached myself to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly
into Portsmouth Harbour.

* * * * *

CHARLEMAGNE AND I.

_Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday._--I have always had a strange longing to know
CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, to have opportunity of inquiring
after his health and that of his family, to hear his whispered reply--that
indeed were bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The
only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last repose, and
brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE was buried at
Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my arrival in the town, I find
great difficulty in discovering his tomb. The great soldier Emperor
resembled an unfortunate and unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was
always being taken up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed
till the year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, and,
finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, helped him down.
The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral to this day (verger, I mark)
to witness to the truth of this narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years
later, FREDERICK BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed
C., and transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was left of
him. In the following century C. was canonised. Whereupon nothing would
satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go for the bones again. They were now
growing scarce, and only a few fragments fill the reliquary in which at
length all that is left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I
may call him so) reposes.

I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of CAROLO, but of