Chapter 2

THE ABERDEEN CABINET.--1853.

First Lord of the Treasury EARL OF ABERDEEN. Lord Chancellor LORD CRANWORTH. Chancellor of the Exchequer RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE. President of the Council EARL GRANVILLE. Lord Privy Seal DUKE OF ARGYLL. Home Office VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. Foreign Office EARL OF CLARENDON. Colonial Office DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. Admiralty RIGHT HON. J. R. G. GRAHAM, BART. Board of Control RIGHT HON. SIR C. WOOD, BART. Secretary at War RIGHT HON. SIDNEY HERBERT. First Commissioner of Works, &c. RIGHT HON. SIR W. MOLESWORTH, BART. Without Office LORD JOHN RUSSELL Without Office MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE.

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POLITICAL SUMMARY.

The unjust demands of the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA on the Ottoman Porte, and his subsequent occupation of the Danubian Principalities, occupied the earnest attention of the Parliament and the people throughout the year, and was the occasion of much inquiry and discussion.

We cannot do better than add a summary of LORD JOHN RUSSELL's Speech, towards the close of the Session, in explanation of the position of affairs:--

"When he entered office, he said, his attention was called to the question of the Holy Places; and he instructed LORD COWLEY, at Paris, to give the subject his earnest attention. Soon after he, LORD JOHN RUSSELL, learned that a special Russian Minister would be sent to the SULTAN, to put an end, by some solemn act, to the differences that existed with regard to the Holy Places. He did not object to that; and PRINCE MENSCHIKOFF arrived at Constantinople on the 2nd of March. From this point, LORD JOHN RUSSELL went over the subsequent events--the resignation of FUAD EFFENDI; the message of COLONEL ROSE To ADMIRAL DUNDAS, sent at the request of the Grand Vizier, and subsequently retracted; and the notification by the Turkish Ministers to LORD STRATFORD, in April, that certain propositions had been made to them to which they were unwilling to accede. 'I should say,' continued he, 'that up to this time the Government of HER MAJESTY at home, and Her Majesty's Minister at St. Petersburg, had always understood that the demands to be made by Russia had reference to the Holy Places; and were all comprised, in one form or another, in the desire to render certain and permanent the advantages to which Russia thought herself entitled in favour of persons professing the Greek religion. LORD STRATFORD understood from the Turkish Ministers, that it had been much desired by the Russian Ambassador that the requests which were made on the part of Russia should be withheld from the knowledge of the representatives of the other Powers of Europe; and these fresh demands were as new to the Government of France as they were to the Government of HER MAJESTY.' The propositions were changed from time to time, until PRINCE MENSCHIKOFF gave in his ultimatum, and left Constantinople. 'I consider that this circumstance was one very greatly to be regretted. It has always appeared to me, that, on the one side and the other, there were statements that would be admitted, while there were others that might be the subject of compromise and arrangement. The Russian Minister maintained that Russia had, by certain treaties (especially by the treaties of Kainardji and Adrianople) the right to expect that the Christians in the Turkish territory would be protected; and he declared at the same time, that Russia did not wish in any manner to injure the independence or integrity of the Turkish Empire. The Sultan's Ministers, on their part, maintained that it was their duty, above all things, to uphold the independence of the Sultan, and to require that nothing should be acceded to which would be injurious to his dignity or would derogate from his rights; but at the same time, they declared that it was the intention of the Sultan to protect his Christian subjects, and to maintain them in the rights and privileges which they had enjoyed under the edicts of former Sultans. Such being the statements on the two sides, I own it appears to me that the withdrawal of the Russian mission from Constantinople, accompanied as that measure was by the preparation of a large Russian force, both military and naval, on the frontiers of Turkey, was a most unfortunate step, and has naturally caused very great alarm to Europe, while it has imposed great sacrifices both upon Turkey and upon the Turkish provinces adjoining Russia.' These appearances became so serious that the fleet was ordered to approach the Dardanelles; the French fleet advanced at the same time; and the Russians entered the Principalities. This, Turkey had an undoubted right to consider a _casus belli_; but France and England induced the Sultan to forego that right, thinking it desirable to gather up the broken threads of negotiation, and strive for some arrangement for maintaining peace. The French Minister for Foreign Affairs--'a gentleman whose talents, moderation, and judgment it is impossible too greatly to admire'--drew up a note, omitting what was objectionable on both sides. The Austrian Government, which had previously declined to enter on a conference, changed its views when the Russians occupied the Principalities, and COUNT BUOL took the proposal of M. DROUYN DE LHUYS as a basis for a note. This note was agreed to by the Four Powers; and the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA had accepted it, considering that his honour would be saved, and his objects attained, if that note was signed by the Turkish Minister.

"Supposing that note 'to be finally agreed upon by Russia and Turkey as the communication which shall be made by Turkey, there will still remain the question of the evacuation of the Principalities. It is quite evident, Sir, that no settlement can be satisfactory which does not include or immediately lead to the evacuation of those Principalities. (_Cheers._) According to the declaration which has been made by the General commanding the Russian Forces, PRINCE GORTSCHAKOFF, the evacuation ought immediately to follow on the satisfaction obtained by Turkey from the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. I will only say further, that it is an object which Her Majesty's Government consider to be essential: but with respect to the mode in which the object is to be obtained--with respect to the mode in which the end is to be secured--I ask the permission of Parliament to say nothing further upon this head, but to leave the means--the end being one which is certain to be obtained--to leave the means by which it is to be obtained in the Executive Government. With respect to the question which has been raised as to the fleets of England and France at Besika Bay, that of course need not be made any question of difficulty, because, supposing Turkey were in danger, we ought to have the power at all times of sending our fleets to the neighbourhood of the Dardanelles to be ready to assist Turkey in case of any such danger, and we ought not to consent to any arrangement by which it may be stipulated that the advance of the fleets to the neighbourhood of the Dardanelles should be considered as equivalent to an actual invasion of the Turkish territories. But, of course, if the matter is settled--if peace is secured, Besika Bay is not a station which would be of any advantage either to England or France.'

"In conclusion he said, he thought we had now a fair prospect, without involving Europe in hostilities, or exposing the independence and integrity of Turkey, that the object in view would be secured in no very long space of time. 'I will only say further, that this question of the maintenance of Turkey is one that must always require the attention--and I may say, the vigilant attention--of any person holding in his hands the foreign affairs of this country. This, however, can only be secured by a constant union between England and France--by a thorough concert and constant communication between those two great Powers."

In our next Volume we shall have to treat of the results of these difficulties.

One effect of these "rumours of wars" was the introduction of the Naval Coast Volunteers' Bill, a very necessary and important measure for the establishment of a Naval Militia, and by which 18,000 to 20,000 well-trained seamen are placed at the disposal of the country.

Other bills of considerable importance in themselves, though not of political interest, became Law, and have been productive of great good to the community. The Act for the Suppression of Betting Houses has saved many a thoughtless fool from ruin, and dispersed, though not destroyed, the bands of brigands who then preyed upon the unwary. The prisons of London gave abundant and conclusive testimony of the vast number of persons, especially the young, who had been led into crime by the temptation held out by Betting Houses.

MR. FITZROY's Act for the Better Prevention and Punishment of Aggravated Assaults upon Women and Children has done much, though not all that is required, to lessen the brutality of the lower orders, and the Smoke Prevention Act has removed in part one of the disgraces of our metropolis.

The Vaccination Extension Act was a sanitary measure of great importance, as the mortality from small-pox had long been greater in England than in any other country in Europe.

On the 16th of December LORD PALMERSTON resigned his office of Secretary of State for the Home Department, but he was subsequently induced to resume his position in the Government.

On the 20th of August the Parliament was prorogued by commission, and a Parliamentary Session of an unusually protracted and laborious character brought to an end. The year had been generally very prosperous, but the scanty harvest, and the unsettled condition of the labouring classes, who resorted to the desperate and suicidal agency of "strikes" for bettering their condition, added to the probability of a war with Russia, brought it to a gloomy close, and it was as much as _Punch_ could do to sustain the nation in moderate cheerfulness.

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NOTES.

THE CAMP AT CHOBHAM.--The July of 1853 was particularly wet.

THE CAMP.--A fact.

FANCY PORTRAIT.--Need we say of MR. CHARLES KEAN.

A GENTEEL REPROOF was really required to check the somewhat indelicate curiosity of lady-visitors to the camp.

POISONOUS PUFFS still disgrace many provincial papers and a few metropolitan ones. Newspaper readers have the remedy in themselves by adopting the advice given in this article.

A STARTLING NOVELTY IN SHIRTS was barely an exaggeration in 1853.

A DETERMINED DUELLIST.--See Note to p. 39.

THE NEW ACT.--The Cabman is the picture of a man then about town, and a member of a very respectable family, to annoy whom he drove a Hansom Cab.

A GOOD JOKE.--See _Introduction_.

ANOTHER POTATO BLIGHT, &C.--MR. SERJEANT MURPHY, of facetious memory.

MORNINGTON'S CHALLENGE.--LORD MORNINGTON, formerly MR. WELLESLEY TYLNEY LONG POLE, recently challenged LORD SHAFTESBURY, who declined the folly. _Pop Goes the Weasel_ was the name of a popular tune.

EAST INDIA HOUSE.--MR. HOGG was a distinguished director of the East India Company and M.P.

THE AMERICAN CUPID.--MR. HOBBS, the celebrated lock-picker, to whom reference has been frequently made in preceding Volumes.

LOGIC FOR MR. LUCAS.--See Notes to preceding Volumes.

EFFECT OF THE CAB STRIKE.--About this time the Cab Proprietors of London struck against the new Cab Act, and London for a day was left cabless.

WANTED, A NOBLEMAN.--An EARL OF ALDBOROUGH was advertised as a patron of HOLLOWAY'S Pills, for whose real value, see _Punch_, No. 1126, February 7, 1863.

THE MEMBER FOR LINCOLN AS HE WILL APPEAR AT THE NEXT GENERAL ELECTION.--A Street Musician used to play several instruments in the manner here indicated.

THE BATTLE OF SPITHEAD.--The QUEEN held a grand Naval Review at Spithead.

THE DOOM OF WESTMINSTER BRIDGE was fulfilled in 1862 by the opening of the beautiful structure built by MR. PAGE.

A PRESENT FOR ABERDEEN.--LORD ABERDEEN was suspected of Russian tendencies.

FLOWERS OF THE TOWZEREY PLANT.--The Towzerey Gang was a set of swindling warehousemen well exposed by the _Times_.

A CONSULTATION ABOUT THE STATE OF TURKEY.--Turkey was described at this time as "the sick man."

TAVERN EXPERIENCE.--See large cut opposite.

THE INSTITUTION OF OUR SPECTRE OF CHELSEA.--An Apparition called the Lady of Salette was said to have appeared to a Shepherd boy, and was accredited by the Romish Church.

MEMORIAL TO BELLOT.--A Monument to the memory of this gallant Frenchman, who perished during one of our Polar Expeditions, is erected opposite to Greenwich Hospital.

A LETTER AND AN ANSWER.--The Cholera was rife at this time.

A NUISANCE IN THE CITY, &C.--The Corporation of London strongly opposed the Health of Towns' Bill.

LORD SID-NEE SHOW.--SIDNEY was a Tea-dealer.

A BISHOP ON THINGS SOLID.--A most ridiculous movement was made in the City to obtain subscriptions for a Statue for PRINCE ALBERT. It was very properly discountenanced at Court.

A LONELY SQUARE.--This was the age of "stick-ups."

THE REMONSTRANCE, and A NEW CHIME FOR BOW BELLS.--The LORD MAYOR and Corporation of London had fallen, sadly "fallen from their high estate" in public estimation.

EXPOSTULATION WITH PALMERSTON.--LORD PALMERSTON had left the Ministry at this time. See _Introduction_.

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MR. PUNCH IN DUBLIN.

"Yes, with much pleasure," said _Mr. Punch_, M.P. for England, as he entered the Octagon Hall in Parliament Palace; and, in his usual elegant and affable manner, extended his white-gloved hand to a courtly gentleman who had requested his presence.

"I was sure you would say so," said the gentleman, and he raised a finger. A watchful official at a door instantly turned to the electric dial, and _Mr. Punch's_ gracious assent was known at Holyhead, before he had finished congratulating his companion, in the most truly charming style, on a promised knighthood, of which the Viceroy of Ireland had whispered something to _Mr. Punch_.

"No man ever earned his spurs better than the man who has been spurring railways into increased activity for so many years," said _Mr. Punch_, with a beautiful bow.

"I have not called you from the House at an unfortunate time, I trust, Sir," said the other. "Not that you can ever be spared, but--"

"WILLIAM GLADSTONE is quite up to his work," replied the great patriot. "He has but a couple of dozen of the Brigade in hand at present, and he is tossing up one after the other, cup-and-ball fashion, cupping or spiking him to taste, with the precision of a RAMO SAMEE. I can leave WILLIAM. Let us go."

"You will take care that no other passenger is put into _Mr. Punch's coupé_, guard," said the gentleman, as the Euston whistle sounded.

"No masculine passenger, please tell him, Mr. RONEY," said _Mr. Punch_, facetiously. "Good night."

"This Irish journey is capitally done, certainly," said _Mr. Punch_, as, thirteen hours later, he found himself over his coffee and prawns in Sackville Street, on a radiant morning, and all the bright eyes of Dublin sparkling round the door of his hotel, eagerly glancing towards his balcony. _Mr. Punch_ rushed forth, _serviette_ in hand. His large heart beat high at the sight of so much loveliness, and at the sound of those angel-voices, rising into musical cheering.

"Bless you, my darlings!" _Mr. Punch_ could say no more, but finished his prawns, and, throwing his manly form upon a jaunting car, he dashed over the bridge, and to Merrion Square.

"An' it's for luck I'll be takin' your honour's sixpence, and not for the dirthy money," said the excited driver, as he rattled round the corner, and into the Square, and the gigantic cylinders of the EXHIBITION burst upon _Mr. Punch's_ gaze.

"My Irish friend," said _Mr. Punch_, gravely, but not severely, "do not talk nonsense. Your carriage is clean, your horse is rapid, you are civil, and your fare is certain. In London, we have as yet neither clean carriages, rapid horses, civil drivers, nor certain fares. We may learn those lessons of you. Learn two from us. Do not believe in luck, but practice perseverance; and do not call that money dirty which is the well-earned pay of honest service. To sweeten the advice, there is a shilling." And _Mr. Punch_ entered the Exhibition building, and was drawing out his purse at the turnstile. But two gigantic policemen, in soldierly garb, welcomed him with a respectful smile, and the turnstile suddenly spun him into the building gratis, but a little too fast for dignity. What a sight was that before him! The vast hall, with its blue lines and red labels, looked a handsome instalment of Paxtonia. Plashing fountains, murmuring organs, a MAROCHETTI Queen high pedestalled, white statues, glistering silver-blazoned banners. A fine and a noble sight, and worthy of all plaudit; but it was not that which almost bewildered the great patriot, as he was shot into Dargania. Those eyes again--two thousand pairs at least--Irish diamonds, worth mines of Koh-i-noors, suddenly flashing and sparkling and melting upon him. That telegraph message from the Octagon Hall--and, as they say in the Peers' House, "and the Ladies summoned." Staggered though he was, you do not often see such a bow as that with which _Mr. Punch_ did homage to his lovely hostesses.

Two of the fairest stepped forward gracefully, and blushingly proffered themselves as his guides through the building.

"Chiefly, that I may set them in my prayers," murmured _Mr. Punch_, "if you happen to have names----"

Those blue eyes belong to HONORA, and those violet eyes to GRACE, and all to _Mr. Punch's_ heart henceforth and until further notice. They proceeded, and there was a sound as of a great rustling, as of a world of feminine garments forming into procession and following, but it was vain for _Mr. Punch_ to think of looking round, for he never got further than the face of one or other of his companions. They paraded the building.

GRACE bade him look from her, and observe the five halls, in the central and greatest of which they stood. She showed him that Royalty had contributed a gorgeous temple, rich in gems and gold, richer in an artist-thought of the Prince who designed it. And, standing on the platform, she pointed out that the forge and the loom and the chisel had all been busy for that huge hall, whose area offered a series of bold general types of the work to be seen in detail around it. And China was near with her carvings, and India with her embroideries, and Japan with a hundred crafts (now for the first time revealed, thanks to our brother, the King of Holland), and Belgium with her graceful ingenuity, and France with her artistic luxury, and the Zollverein with its bronzes, and Austria with her maps, and flowers, and furniture. And then GRACE led him on to the Fine Arts Hall, where the original thoughts of a thousand painters, new and old, glowed upon him from walls which the DEVONSHIRES, and LANSDOWNES, and TALBOTS, and PORTARLINGTONS, and YARBOROUGHS, and CHARLEMONTS, and others, had joined to enrich with the choicest treasures of their castles and mansions. And amid the priceless display, _Mr. Punch_ felt justly proud of his aristocratic friends, who could at once trust and teach the people.

HONORA bade him look from her, and they passed from an exquisite Mediæval Court, its blue vault studded with golden stars, crossed the hall, and observed a long range of machinery doing its various restless work, and doing it noiselessly, thanks to a silent system and a tremendous rod, sent from Manchester by FAIRBAIRN, through whose Tubular Bridge _Mr. Punch_ had flown at dawn. And HONORA showed him where Ireland had put forth her own strength, and thrown down her linens and her woollens in friendly challenge, and with her hardware, her minerals, her beautiful marbles, and her admirable typography. They ascended, and passing through long lines of galleries, _Mr. Punch's_ adorable guides pointed out, amid a legion of wares, things more graceful and useful than he had seen assembled since the bell (on that 11th of October last but one) tolled for the fall of Paxtonia.

"And now, dear _Mr. Punch_," said HONORA, "you have looked round our Dublin Exhibition, and--and--"

"And," said GRACE, "you know that you sometimes say rather severe things about Ireland--"

"Never," said _Mr. Punch_, dropping upon his knees. "Never. But here I register a vow."

The whole assembly was suddenly hushed, and had _Mr. Punch's_ words been literal, instead of only metaphorical, pearls and diamonds, you might have heard them fall on those boards.

"That for your sakes here present, and for the sake of all the wise, and energetic, and right-hearted men of Ireland who have to do with this building, and with your roads, and railways, and schools, and the like, I will henceforth wage even more merciless and exterminating war than hitherto with the humbug Irish patriots (dupes or tools), who tarnish the name of a nation which can rear and fill an edifice like this."

A shout which made the good SIR JOHN BENSON'S broad arches ring again and again. And, as it subsided, there came forth from the crowd of ladies, whose eyes all turned affectionately on the new comer, a stalwart presence. _Mr. Punch_ sprang up.

"This is your work!" he exclaimed. "Don't say it is not, WILLIAM DARGAN, because I know it is, and because England knows it too, and holds your name in honour accordingly."

That day's proceedings are not reported further. But all _Mr. Punch's_ friends who wish to please him will have the goodness to run over to Dublin, and see the finest sight which will be seen between this and the First of May next.

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A NEW TURN IN THE TEMPERANCE MOVEMENT.

A real, genuine, out-and-out Teetotaller says he likes this Table-turning vastly; for, though it keeps folks to the table, still it keeps them from the bottle. "The table may go round," he says, "but the wine does not circulate." There may be more in this teetotaller's chuckle than wine-bibbers imagine. We ourselves have heard an instance of a wealthy City man, who is nearly as mean as the MARQUIS OF NORTHMINSTER, who spares his Port regularly, by proposing to his company, as soon as the cloth is removed, that "they should try a little of this table-moving that is so much talked about." The decanters are removed, and he keeps his company with their fingers fixed upon the mahogany, until Coffee is announced. We warn all persons who are in the habit of dining out, against lending their hands to this favourite trick.

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"PROVIDED ALWAYS."

Though, perhaps, not strictly within our province to attend to the Commissariat of any but ourselves, we beg leave to announce that we have undertaken to supply the whole of the Camp at Chobham with chaff.

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THE AUTHOR OF SCOTCH BEER.--We lately read an advertisement of a book entitled _The Scottish Ale-Brewer_. The author's name is ROBERTS; but it ought to have been MAC ENTIRE.

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CRYSTAL NUNNERIES.

Ye reverend Fathers, why make such objection, Why raise such a cry against Convents' Inspection? Is it not just the thing to confound the deceivers, And confute all the slanders of vile unbelievers?

It strikes me that people in your situation Should welcome, invite, and court investigation, As much as to say, "Come and see if you doubt us; We defy you to find any evil about us."

For my part I think, if I held your persuasion, That I should desire to improve the occasion, And should catch at the chance, opportunely afforded, Of showing how well Nuns are lodged, used, and boarded.

That as to the notion of cruel inflictions Of penance, such tales are a bundle of fictions, And that all that we hear of constraint and coercion Is, to speak in mild language, mere groundless assertion.

That an Abbess would not--any more than a Mayoress-- Ever dream of inveigling an opulent heiress, That each convent's the home of devotion and purity, And that nothing is thought about, there, but futurity.

That no Nuns exist their profession regretting, Who kept in confinement are pining and fretting; And to fancy there might be one such, though a rarity, Implies a most sad destitution of charity.

That all sisters are doves--without mates--of one feather, In holy tranquillity living together, Whose dovecote the bigots have found a mare's nest in, Because its arrangements are rather clandestine.

Nay, I should have gone, out of hand, to SIR PAXTON, As a Frenchman would probably call him, and "axed 'un," As countrymen say--his ingenious noddle Of a New Crystal Convent to scratch for a model.

Transparent and open, inquiry not shirking, Like bees you might watch the good Nuns in it, working; And study their habits, observe all their motions, And see them performing their various devotions.

This is what I should do, on a sound cause relying, Not run about bellowing, raving, and crying; I shouldn't exhibit all that discomposure, Unless in the dread of some startling disclosure.

What makes you betray such tremendous anxiety To prevent the least peep into those haunts of piety? People say there's a bag in your Convents--no doubt of it, And you are afraid you'll have Pussy let out of it.

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CANVAS TOWNS.

Our contemporary, _Household Words_, has given an account of Canvas Town in the new world, but we doubt whether a description of one of the Canvas Towns--or Towns under Canvas--in the old world, would not reveal a greater amount of depravity and corruption than anything that exists even in Australia. A Canvas Town in England is no less bent on gold discovery than a Canvas Town at Port Phillip--the only difference being that the candidate's pocket, instead of the earth, is the place that the electors or gold diggers are continually digging into. In the Colonies the inhabitants of a Canvas Town are huddled together irrespective of rank, and frequently the best educated persons are found doing the dirtiest work, just as may be seen in a Canvas Town in England before election time. The inhabitants of a Colonial Canvas Town think only of the gold and the quartz, just as at home the inhabitants of a Canvas Town think of nothing but filthy dross and drink--the quarts taking of course precedence of the pints in the estimation of the "independent" voters.

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MORE ORNAMENTAL THAN USEFUL.

MR. DISRAELI calls "invective a great ornament in debate." According to this species of decoration, Billingsgate ought to be the most ornamental place of debate in the world; and MR. DISRAELI himself, than whom few orators deal more largely in invective, deserves taking his rank as the most ornamental debater that ever was born.

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CIVIL (VERY CIVIL) WAR AT CHOBHAM.

The gallant fellows now assembled under arms and over ankles in the mud and dust of Chobham, were on Tuesday, the 21st of June, led--or rather guided--into one of the most civil wars to be found in the pages--including the fly-leaves--of history.

It having been understood that a battle was to be fought, every one seemed animated with the spirit of contention, and the struggle commenced at the Railway Station, where a company of heavy Cockneys, several hundred strong, besieged with great energy the few flys, omnibuses, and other vehicles, that were to be met with. The assault was vigorously carried; but the retaliation was complete; for the cads, drivers, and other marauders, having allowed the besiegers to fall into the snare, drove them off to the field, and exacted heavy tribute as the price of their ransom. Some few took refuge by trusting to their heels, rather than undergo the severe charge to which they would have been exposed; and they arrived, after a fatiguing march of nearly five miles, much harassed by the ginger-beer picquets and tramps that always lie on the outskirts of an army.

It was, however, on the field, or rather among the furze-bushes of Chobham, that the battle was really to be fought; and in the afternoon, the Guards, the 1st and 2nd Brigades, with the Artillery and Cavalry, took up a sheltered position under a hill, to conceal themselves from the enemy. This "concealment" was rather dramatic than real; for the enemy had already determined not to see, and as none are so blind as those who won't see, the "concealment" was quite effectual. When the force had had full time to get itself snugly out of sight, the "foe" poured down with immense vehemence from Flutter's Hill, and began squeezing into ditches, or hiding behind mud walls, to avoid the "observation" of the enemy, who knowing from signals where it was proper to look without the possibility of seeing anything, kept up the spirit of this truly "civil" war in the politest manner.

The moment of action was now eagerly looked for on all sides, and particularly by our old friend the British Public, who had perched himself on all the available eminences commanding a view of those who were about to give--and take--battle. Aides-de-camp were now seen flying about in all directions with breathless speed, delivering "property" despatches, similar to those with which the gallant officers at Astley's are in the habit of prancing over the platformed planes of Waterloo. Suddenly the skirmishers of the 42nd made a sally from the heights, and poured an incessant volley of blank cartridge into the ears of the Highlanders; who, after one decisive struggle--though we defy anybody to say what the gallant fellows really struggled with--dislodged the foe, who had on the previous day received regular notice to quit their lodging at the time agreed on. The Guards now came on from the O. P. side, Upper Entrance, of the Common, and turning back the wing, made for an adjoining flat, marching fearlessly over the set pieces under a heavy fire--of nothing--from the muskets of the enemy. Victory seemed hesitating on which side to declare herself, when a rush of cavalry turned the scale, scattered the weights, and upset the barrow of a seller of sweet-stuff, who had incautiously--as a camp follower--ventured too near the flanks of the horse on the field of battle.

The _mélée_ now became general, and it being impossible to discriminate between friend and foe, the Guards, seeing a large assemblage of the public on Flutter's Hill, were immediately "up and at 'em." This put the Hill in a more than usual flutter, for the British public having been given to understand there was "nothing to pay" for their position, were not prepared to expect there would be any charge whatever, and still less a charge at the point of the bayonet. It was here that the war assumed its most civil aspect, for the public, though vigorously charged, were most civilly requested to get out of the way, and the request was met on all sides with the most civil compliance. Thus ended the battle of Chobham of the 21st of June, in which several fell on both sides; but of all who fell every one happily jumped up again. A few lost their balance, but as these kept no banker's account the loss did not signify. We annex a spirited drawing of

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A City Ballad.

At the Metropolitan Free Hospital Dinner, the LORD MAYOR in the Chair, we find it reported that MISS M. WELLS obtained great applause by the spirit and feeling with which she sang the ballad of "_Annie Laurie_." Is the Reporter sure that it was ANNIE? Is he quite certain it wasn't PETER?

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MEASURE WITH A MISNOMER.

There is one objection to the Bill for the Recovery of Personal Liberty in Certain Cases. That is, its title. False imprisonment, in certain cases, is remediable by _Habeas Corpus_. What inspection of nunneries is chiefly needed for, is the recovery of personal liberty in uncertain cases.

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CHARACTER IN A BLUE BAG.

Two attorneys quarrel about a matter of business; one of them accuses the other of trickery; the latter retorts on the former by calling him a liar and a scoundrel: and the first attorney brings an action for slander against the second. Whereon, according to the report of the case:--

"The LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, in summing up, said it was not actionable to say of a man personally, 'you are a liar,' or 'you are a scoundrel;' nor was it actionable to combine the epithets, and say, 'you are a lying scoundrel;' but, if said of an attorney in his professional character, those words would be actionable."

What the law--speaking by the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE--means to say, is, that abuse, in order to be actionable, must be injurious; that to call an attorney a lying and scoundrelly man does him no injury; whereas, calling him a lying and scoundrelly attorney tends to injure him in his profession. The law, therefore, presumes, that you may esteem a man to be a true and honest attorney, whilst in every other capacity you consider him a false and mean rascal; so that you may be willing to confide the management of your affairs to him, although you will not trust him with anything else.

It is curious that the rule applied to the defamation of lawyers is reversed in its application to invective against legislators. Members of Parliament are censurable if they impute falsehood and scoundrelism to each other in a personal sense, but not censurable for making those imputations in a Parliamentary sense. The theory of this anomaly seems to be, that the affairs of political life cannot be conducted without deceit and baseness, and accordingly that there is no offence in accusing an honourable gentleman of evincing those qualities in labouring at his vocation, that is to say for his country's good, for which it is necessary that he should cheat and deceive.

The law of slander, partially applied to attorneys, ought perhaps to be wholly inapplicable in the case of barristers. If a counsel may suggest to a jury a supposition which he knows to be false, and particularly one, which at the same time tends to criminate some innocent person; and if he is to be allowed to make such a suggestion for his client's benefit, he is allowed to be base and deceitful for the benefit of his client. To charge him with deception and villainy in his character of advocate, is to accuse him of professional zeal; to advantage him, not injure him, in his business. It ought to be lawful to call him a liar and a scoundrel in a forensic sense, as well as in every other.

* * * * *

THE HARDEST OF ALL SWEARING.

When LORD BROUGHAM, the other evening, was presenting some petition for the abolition of oaths, there were certain oaths in particular which he might have taken the opportunity of recommending the Legislature to do away with. They are alluded to in the following passage from a letter signed CENSOR in the _Times:_--

"As a condition of admission, the Head and Fellows of all Colleges are enjoined to take oaths to the inviolable observance of all the enactments of the statutes. These oaths, to use the words of the commission, increase in stringency and solemnity, in proportion as the statutes become more minute and less capable of being observed. These oaths are not only required but actually taken. Men of high feeling, refinement, education, and, for the most part, dedicated in an especial manner to God's service, are called on suddenly to swear that they will obey enactments incapable of being obeyed."

Oaths such as these are enough to make any man turn Quaker--at least by quaking as he swallows them. Any amount of swearing that ever disgraced a cabstand is preferable to such shocking affidavits; and there is something much more horrible in the oaths of college Fellows than there is in the imprecations of such fellows as coster-mongers. Our army once "swore terribly in Flanders," but never at such a rate as officers of the Church Militant appear to be in the habit of swearing at the Universities: and although there is said to be an awful amount of perjury committed in the County Courts, it is probable that the individuals forsworn at those halls of justice are far exceeded in number by the Reverend Divines who kiss the book to untruth at the temples of learning. It is a strange kind of consistency that objects to rapping out an oath, and yet obstinately retains such oaths at Oxford and Cambridge.

* * * * *

THE PLAIN TRUTH OF IT.--There is NO "medium" in Spirit Rapping; for, in our opinion, it is all humbug from beginning to end.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE GREAT INDIAN FACT.

A Great fact in India--nay, why should we not throw affected modesty on one side, and say at once, _the_ great fact in that great country--is the position occupied in the most flourishing Indian communities by our humble--pooh! why blink the truth--our noble selves!

India is a country of contrasts--of wealth and want, of prosperity and decay, of independence and servility, of self-government and despotism.

The want, the decay, the servility, and the despotism are to be found among all the native races--Bengalee and Madrassee, Maratta and Telinga, Canarese and Tamul, Bheel and Ghoorka, Khoond and Rohilla, Sikh and Aheer--it will be seen that _we_ too have been getting up our India;--under all sorts of authorities--Potails and Zemeendars, Kardars and Jagheerdars, Ameers and Mokaddams, and Deshmucks; with all kinds of tenures--Zemeendaree and Ryotwaree and Jagheerdaree. But the wealth, the prosperity, the independence, and the self-government, are to be met with in one class of communities, under one form of authorities, among one kind of holders only. These oases in the desert of Indian native existence are those in which _Punch_--the _Punch_--the _Mr. Punch_--in one word the Indian representative of OURSELVES--bears sway!

This remarkable circumstance--so deeply gratifying to us of course--is no imagination of our own brain, no dream of our self-satisfaction, no figment of any of our numerous flatterers and admirers; but an historical truth, recorded in his distinctest and dryest manner by one of the distinctest and dryest writers upon India--MR. CAMPBELL, whose work has been much bought, much read, and unblushingly cribbed from by pillars of the state in the House of Commons, and by leading columns of the morning papers.

Hear then upon this great fact MR. CAMPBELL--of the Bengal Civil Service--whose civil service to Punches in general, and Indian Punches in particular, _Punch_ is glad here to acknowledge. Hear MR. CAMPBELL, on the nature and effects of the authority and administration of Punch in India. Where Punches preside, "the system" he tells us "is infinitely better than anything we have hitherto seen." The revenue is larger and more easily collected; the condition of the cultivator more flourishing; property more secure, and the police better administered. Each village, under the beneficent and equal rule of its Punch, "is one community, composed of a number of families, all possessing rights in the soil, and responsibilities answering to their rights." Still Punch is no tyrant. "The Democratic Punch has no official power or authority except as representing this body of proprietors"--like ourselves, who have no authority except in so far as we represent the people of Great Britain, which we flatter ourselves we do in most things.

"The Punch," MR. CAMPBELL tells us (page 88), "is as a rule of the plural number"--(that is, there are several contributors);--"a clever well-spoken man, who has a good share of land" (we substitute brains), "and is at the head of a number of relatives and friends" (in our case, readers and admirers), "becomes one of the Punch, which office he holds for life, if he continues to give satisfaction to his constituents" (the public and proprietors are enough for us); "but if he becomes very old, or incompetent, or unpopular, some one else, probably, revolutionises himself into the place" (and serve the old, incompetent, unpopular contributor right). "The office of _Punch_ is much coveted" (we should think it was), "and all arrangements are by the Punch collectively" (if the gentle reader could be present at one of our Saturday dinners, he would see what very small beer we think of the Editor). "They act not as persons having authority over the community, but always as representatives, and on many subjects they consult their constituencies before deciding." (When did _we_ not consult public opinion, and when did _we_ claim any other authority than as representing the country at large?) "There is generally in the village a leader of opposition," (poor creature!) "perhaps the defeated candidate for the last Punchship" (obviously a rejected contributor), "who leads a strong party" (oh, dear no! MR. CAMPBELL, you are misinformed on that point), "accuses the Punch of malversation, and, sometimes, not without reason, of embezzlement" (not on this side the water), "and insists on their being compelled to render an account of their stewardship" (our proprietors' books are open to all the world); "for there are abuses and grievances in all corporations, in all parts of the world" (_i.e._ "even Punches are not perfect"--a truth, probably, though we trust we shall never exemplify it in our own case).

Such is the rule of the Punches of India--and now for its effect. It produces communities, "strong, independent, and well-organized" (page 90). It is established over what MR. CAMPBELL styles "a perfect democratic community."

In short, this rule of Punch is the only one MR. CAMPBELL is able to rest on with entire satisfaction, as the model to which all the other native organizations of India ought to be, as far as possible, assimilated.

Yes--give every community its _Punch_, and India would be something like what it ought to be--something like what England has become since the rule of _Punch_ was firmly established here--something which would render altogether unnecessary these dreadful Indian debates, and the immense amount of Indian "cram" which members, journalists, and conscientious persons, who follow the Parliamentary reports, are obliged to bolt, and of which we have disgorged a sample, with great relief to ourselves, at the beginning of this article.

* * * * *

A WITNESS ON AN ELECTION COMMITTEE.

I'm a free indepent Brish Elector--I swear-- And I'll have s'more bremwarra--anbanish dullcare!-- I know I've a trustodischarge in my vote, And my countryexpex--I shall getfipunnote!

At 'lecksh'n shey 'n vied me to come up anget Some breakf'st--so I did--an' I drank--an' I eat-- At the Chequers this was--zhere was morebesides me-- And not one blessed shixpence--to forkout had we.

Dropowhisky I had; bein' indishpo--posed-- Sha truth and sha whole truth I 'clare I'vedisclosed-- I feel almosasleep--I've been trav'linallnight-- Had but one smallglass gin--and you know tha's not right.

I have had a shov give me--to come uptatown, An' shey paid my fareup--and shey paid myfare down-- Who shey was--I donow--any more than an assh-- But I hadmyplacepaidfor an' comebyfirsclassh.

I'm a true tenpun householder--noways a snob-- Though I did sell myself for the shummofivebob-- They wanted myvote--which I toldem theysh'd have, If they'd give sunthink for it--and tha's what they gave.

While I'm shtoppinintown, I has ten bobaday, Witch that money's mylowance myspenses to pay, For peachin' on myside byzh 'tother I'm paid, And a preshusgood thingouto' boshsides I've made.

I don't feel no 'casion for 'idinmyface, Don't consider sh' I'm kivver'd wizh shameandisgrace, I don't unstand what you should 'sfranchise me for-- And 'tis my 'termination to have s'more bremwarr'!

* * * * *

RUSSIAN COOKERY.

The Russian Minister has long been connected by name and parentage with one of the nicest puddings to be found in the receipts of SOYER, or in the _carte_ of the _Trois Frères_. We must, however, protest against the Russian Diplomatist's endeavouring to combine with the practice of cookery the science of medicine, for though we always eat with pleasure NESSELRODE pudding, we cannot undertake to swallow NESSELRODE'S recent draught.

* * * * *

SENTIMENT FOR THE PEACE SOCIETY.

The thunder of war turns the milk of human-kindness sour. Moreover, it may be said to spoil the beer of brotherly love.

* * * * *

ONE VIEW OF THE TURKISH QUESTION.

The SUBLIME PORTE and the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, regarded in an æsthetical point of view, present examples of the Sublime and the Ridiculous.

* * * * *

LITERATURE FOR THE CAMP.--There are not many books to read at the Chobham encampment; but, besides going through all the Reviews, the Camp will, doubtless, take in a great many numbers of this periodical.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A LIST OF INDEXES.

The following Indexes have been compiled by a gentleman who is rather strong in that useful, but much-snubbed and little-read, department of literature. They are intended to keep in countenance the well-known "face," which is said to be "the Index of the Mind."

Cold Soup is the Index of a Bad Dinner. A Bang of the door is the Index of a Storm. A "Button off" is the sure Index of a Bachelor. An Irish Debate is the Index of a Row. A Popular Singer is the Index of a Cold. A bright Poker is the Index of a Cold Hearth. A Servant standing at the door is the Index of a Wasteful House. A Shirt with ballet-girls is the Index of "a Gent." The Painted Plate is the Index of the Hired Fly. Duck, or Goose, is the Index of "a Small Glass of Brandy." A Baby is the Index of a Kiss. A Toast (_after dinner_) is the Index of Butter. Cold Meat is, frequently, the Index of a Pudding. A Favour is, more frequently, the Index of Ingratitude. A Governess is the Index of suffering, uncomplaining, Poverty. A Puseyite is the Index of a Roman Catholic. Home is the Index Expurgatorius of Liberty; and lastly, Mismanagement is the Index (at least the only one published yet) of the Catalogue of the British Museum.

* * * * *

A QUESTION FOR A DEBATING SOCIETY.

Whether, in the event of MR. SANDS being subject, like _Amina_, to fits of somnambulism, it would be likely that he would walk in his sleep head downwards with his feet on the ceiling?

* * * * *

A POPULAR TAX.--If MR. GLADSTONE taxes any kind of license, he ought to tax the license of Counsel.

* * * * *

A YOUNGER SON.--The Blade of the "Cold Shoulder."

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

THURSDAY, MAY 23, 18--

"It would be something to say, FRED, that we'd been to France."--

"To be sure," replied FRED. "And yet only to have something to say and nothing to show, is but parrot's vanity."

"But that needn't be. We might learn a great deal. And I _should_ like to see Normandy; if only a bit of it. One could fancy the rest, FRED. And then--I've seen 'em in pictures--the women wear such odd caps! And then WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR--papa says _we_ came in with him; so that we were Normans once; that is on papa's side--for mamma won't hear that _she_ had anything to do with it--though papa has often threatened to get his arms. And now I think of it, FRED, what are _your_ arms?"

"Don't _you_ know?" asked FRED, puckering his mouth--well, like any bud. "Don't you know?"

"No, I don't;" and I bit my lip and _would_ be serious. "What _are_ they?"

"It's very odd," said he, "very odd. And _you_ are Normans! To think now, LOTTY, that I should have made you flesh of my flesh, without first learning where that flesh first came from. You must own, my love, it was very careless of me. A man doesn't even buy a horse without a pedigree."

(I _did_ look at him!)

"Nevertheless"--and he went on, as if he didn't see me--"nevertheless, my beloved, I must say it showed great elevation of mind on your part to trust your future fate to a man, without so much as even a hint about his arms. But it only shows the beautiful devotion of woman! What have arms to do with the heart? Wedlock defies all heraldry."

"I thought"--said I--"that, for a lawful marriage, the wedding ring must have the Hall mark?"

"I don't think it indispensable. I take it, brass would be as binding. Indeed, my love, I think according to the Council of Nice, or Trent, or Gretna Green--I forget which--a marriage has been solemnised with nothing more than a simple curtain-ring."

"Nonsense," said I; "such a marriage could never hold. Curtain-rings are very well in their way; but give me the real gold."

"True, my love, that's the purity of your woman's nature. In such a covenant we can't be too real. Any way"--and he took my wedding-finger between his--"any way, LOTTY, yours seems strong enough to hold, ay, three husbands."

"One's enough," said I, looking and laughing at him.

"At a time"--said FRED; "but when we're about buying a ring, it's as well to have an article that will wear. Bless you," and he pressed his thumb upon my ring, "this will last _me_ out and _another_."--

"FREDERICK," I cried very angrily; and then--I couldn't help it--I almost began to weep. Whereupon, in his kind, foolish manner he--well, I _didn't_ cry.

"Let us, my darling," said FRED, after a minute, "let us return to our arms. And you came in with the Normans?"

"With WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, papa says, so we _must_ have arms."--

"I remember"--said FRED, as grave as a judge--"once, a little in his cups, your father told me all about it. I recollect. Very beautiful arms: a Normandy pippin with an uplifted battle-axe."

"I never heard that"--said I--"but that seems handsome."

"Yes; your ancestor sold apples in the camp. A fact, I assure you. It all comes upon me now. Real Normandy pippins. They show a tree at Battle--this your father told me as a secret; but as man and wife are one, why it's only one half talking to the other half--a tree at Battle grown from your ancestor's apple-pips. Something like a family tree, that."

"I don't believe a word of it," said I.

"You must. Bless you"--said FRED--"arms come by faith, or how many of the best of people would be without 'em. There's something innocent in the pippin: besides it would paint well. And with my arms"--

"Yes;" I cried; "and what are they, FRED?"

"Well, it's odd: we were--it's plain--made for one another. I came from Normandy too."

"You _did_?" and I _was_ pleased.

"Yes," said he. "I wonder what terms our families were on a thousand years ago? To be sure, I came to England later than you; and I can't exactly say who I came with: but then--for I'm sure I can trust my grandmother--my descent is very historical. I assure you that your family pippin will harmonize with my bearings beautifully."

"We'll have the hall-chairs painted," said I, and I felt quite pleased.

"And the gig of course," said FRED.

"Of course; for what is life if one doesn't enjoy it?" said I.

"Very true, love. And the stable-bucket," continued FRED.

"Just as you please, dear," said I; "but certainly the hall-lamp."--

"Yes: and if we could only get--no, but that's too much to expect," said FRED.

"What's too much?" I asked; for FRED'S manner quite excited me.

"Why, I was thinking, if we could get your great aunt merely to die, we might turn out a very pretty hatchment."--

"Now, FREDERICK!"--for this was going too far.

"I assure you, my love"--said FRED--"'twould give us a great lift in the neighbourhood: and as you say, what's existence without enjoying it?--What's life without paint?"

"Well, but"--for he hadn't told me--"but your descent, love? Is it so very historical?"

"Very. I come in a direct line--so direct, my darling, you might think it was drawn by a ruler--a direct line from JOAN OF ARC."

"Is it true?" I cried.

"When we cross over to Dieppe, it isn't far to Rouen. You'd like to see Rouen?"

"Very much, indeed," I answered. "I always wanted to see Normandy; the home of my ancestors;" and I _did_ feel a little elevated.

"It's very natural, LOTTY"--said FRED. "A reasonable, yes, a very reasonable ambition. Well, at Rouen, I have no doubt I can show you my family tree; at the same time, I shouldn't wonder if we could obtain some further authentic intelligence about your pippin."--

"Nothing more likely," said I; for I _did_ want to see France. "Nothing more likely."

"I'm afraid there's no regular packet across"--said FRED--"but we can hire a boat."--

"A boat? Why, my dear, a boat is"--

"Yes; in a nice trim sea-boat we can cross admirably; and, my love," said FRED, moving close and placing his arm about me--"my love, the matter grows upon me. Let us consider it. Here we are about to begin the world. In fact, I think I may say, we have begun it."--

"Mamma always said marriage wasn't beginning, but settling."

"Let us say the beginning of the settling. Well, we are at a very interesting point of our history; and who knows what may depend upon our voyage?"--

"Still, you'll never go in a boat that"--but he put his hand over my mouth, and went on.

"I declare, beloved LOTTY, when I look upon ourselves--two young creatures--going forth upon the waters to search for and authenticate our bearings--when I reflect, my darling, that not merely ourselves, but our unborn great grandchildren"--

"Don't be foolish, FRED," said I; but he _would_.

"That our great grandchildren, at this moment in the dim regions of probability, and in the still dimmer limbo of possibility"--

"Now, what _are_ you talking about?" I asked; but he was in one of his ways, and it was of no use.

"Are, without being awake to the fact, acutely interested in our discovery; why our voyage becomes an adventure of the deepest, and the most delicate interest. Open your fancy's eye, my love, and looking into futurity, just glance at that magnificent young man, your grandson"--

"Now, I tell you what, FRED, don't be foolish; for I shall look at nothing of the sort," and with the words, I shut my eyes as close as shells.

"Or that lovely budding bride, your grand-daughter"--

"No," said I, "nor any grand-daughter, either; there's _quite time_ enough for _that_."

"Any way, my love, those dearest beings are vitally interested in the matter of our voyage. Therefore, I'll at once go and charter a boat. Would you like it with a deck?"--

"Why, my love, my dearest--as for a boat, I"--and I felt alarmed.

"COLUMBUS found America almost in a punt," said FRED; "then surely we may seek our arms in"--

"But stop," I cried; for he was really going. "After all, love," and I resolutely seated myself on his knee, and held him round the neck--"after all, you have not told me what _are_ your arms? I mean your arms from JOAN OF ARC."

"Why, you know, my love, that JOAN OF ARC was a shepherdess?"

"I should hope I knew as much as that," said I.

"Very good. Well, in order to perpetuate the beautiful humility of her first calling, CHARLES THE SEVENTH magnificently permitted her and all her descendants, to carry in her shield--a lamb's fry!"

"Now, FREDERICK!"

"Such are my bearings, inherited in a direct line--I say in a direct line--from the MAID OF ORLEANS!"--

"From the MAID OF--" and then I saw what a goose he had made of me; and didn't I box his ears, but not to hurt him; and didn't we afterwards agree that the hall-chairs should remain as they were, and that life might be beautiful and bright enough without a touch of herald's paint.

How we _did_ laugh at the family pippin!

* * * * *

GARDENS WITHOUT A WATERPOT.

A well-founded objection has been raised against the Zoological Gardens; one objection: and that the only one that we can think of. It is complained, with truth, that no proper liquor is provided for the children to drink there. Ginger-beer, soda-water, and lemonade are not fit for children at all times, if they are fit at any, and cherry-brandy is good for nobody; not even for the young ladies who alone drink it; for it neither quenches thirst, nor causes hilarity: which are the sole valid reasons for drinking anything whatever, except physic. It appears that the only juvenile taps in the Gardens are those which supply water to the gardeners. If these afforded the pure element, it would be all very well; but their contents are much more suitable for the nourishment of plants than for the refreshment of little boys and girls. Numerous and interesting as are the varieties of the animal creation contained in these Gardens, the collection does not include that useful individual of the mammalia, the common cow, to produce a drop of milk for the little ones.

Even if children could drink soda-water and cherry-brandy, it would be, for many a father of a family which he takes to the Zoological Gardens for a holiday, much too heavy a disbursement to treat his progeny with soda-waters and cherry-brandies all round. If the Society cannot manage to add an ordinary milch cow to their quadrupeds, they might, at least, establish the cow with an iron tail. They have evinced great solicitude for the comforts of all the specimens of the inferior orders of animals on their grounds; and doubtless, now that their attention has been directed to the subject, they will make the requisite provision for a very pressing want experienced by the young of the genus Homo. With such a fact before them as the Camp at Chobham, they would indeed be inexcusable if they were not immediately to rectify a glaring deficiency in their Commissariat for the Infantry.

* * * * *

MEAT FOR MAWWORMS.

The gin-shop keepers and Sabbatarians ought to get up a petition to the QUEEN, praying HER MAJESTY to remove SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH from her councils, because the Right Hon. Baronet has directed the Royal Pleasure Grounds at Kew, and the Royal Botanic Gardens also, to be opened on Sundays; which must cause a shocking desecration of Sunday to be committed in the enjoyment of flowers and fresh air, accompanied by an equally awful decrease in the consumption of "Cream of the Valley."

* * * * *

THE BANK OF RUSSIA.

The House of NESSELRODE and Co. has issued a Circular Note--which, however, is a very different thing from a Letter of Credit. We don't think they are very likely to get it discounted.

* * * * *

FAST LADIES.

HER MAJESTY'S Drawing Room was remarkable for the carriage of every lady who attended it; and it may be observed that each one came in a special train.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A HINT FROM THE GALLERY.

MR. PUNCH observes that his friends the parliamentary reporters did a sensible thing lately. An Irish faction-fight was detaining the House of Commons from its bed at the unseemly hour of three in the morning, and seemed likely to last until six. As the dawn broke, the gentlemen of the gallery, wearied with the gesticulations of LORD CLAUDE CLAMOUROUS--for the best Peter Waggey that ever came out of the Lowther Arcade ceases to amuse after a time--wearied with the iterations of LORD CHAOS, for a man cannot always have an eminent statesman, or an old friend, to carp at--wearied with what MR. GLADSTONE gently called the "freshness" of MR. CONNOODLE, fresh as dew from the mountain--the reporters, we say, suddenly shut up their note-books, and retired into their own apartment. The tongues of the Irish orators faltered, they looked up piteously at the long row of empty benches, murmured that it was unreasonable that the reporters should think that eleven hours and a half of talk was as much as the journals for which they work could conscientiously republish, and the profitless squabble was brought to a speedy close. _Mr. Punch_ cordially approves of the remedy, and suggests that on another and a similar occasion it be tried a little earlier.

* * * * *

SOLDIERS AFLOAT.

A few more such showers as we have had lately, and the Camp at Chobham will become a flotilla.

* * * * *

MRS. MAGNALL'S HISTORICAL QUESTIONS

(_As they should be written for Young Ladies_).

A history of England for young ladies remains yet to be written. The usual ingredients of a reign cannot be interesting to the youthful female mind. Battles, with the number of killed and wounded; party feuds, with the names of the ministers who succeed one another in place; the slow march of public events, and the men who march slowly with them; the eternal round of diplomatic and political relations--which, as they never marry, are the last relations a lady cares for; these, we say, are not exactly the subjects that would engage the sympathies or the attention of a young girl. What romance, what possible interest is there in any one of them? No! we would change all that, and have our English History written in a style popular, easy, and graceful, and alluding only to such subjects as ladies understand, or can best appreciate.

Our proposal, however, will be at once apparent by the nature of the following questions, which we have extracted from a History supposed to be written according to our sensible plan;--

HISTORICAL QUESTIONS FOR LADIES.

(_Taken principally from the Reign of_ QUEEN VICTORIA.)

What do you mean by the "Crush-Room of the Opera;" and why is it so called?

When did _gigot_ sleeves go out of fashion, and did such sleeves have anything to do with the popular French phrase of "_Revenons à nos Moutons?_"

What do you mean by "Crochet Work"? and can you set the pattern for ladies of "How to make a purse for your brother?"

Who edited the "Book of Beauty?" and mention a few of the aristocratic names whose portraits have had the honour of appearing in its splendid pages.

Can you describe the habits and haunts of the "Swedish Nightingale?" and can you mention the highest note it ever reached, and also why it sang in a Haymarket?

State the name of the "Bohemian nobleman" who first brought over the Polka to England.

In what year of VICTORIA'S reign was the celebrated _Bal Costumé_ given at Buckingham Palace? and describe the dress that HER MAJESTY wore on that interesting occasion.

Give the names of the principal singers who distinguished themselves at the two Italian Operas during the rival administrations of GYE and LUMLEY, and describe the nature of the feud that existed between those two great men.

Give a description of "Pop Goes the Weasel," and state all you know about the "Weasel," and what was the origin of his going "Pop."

Who succeeded WIGAN in the _Corsican Brothers_?

Mention the names of the principal watering-places, and say which was considered the more fashionable of the two--Margate, or Gravesend?

When did flounces come into fashion, and state the lowest and the highest number a lady could wear?

Describe the position of Chiswick--and give a short account of its Gardens, and the _Fêtes_ that were held there every year.

What were the duties of the Ladies of the Bedchamber, and in what respects did they differ from the Maids of Honour at Richmond?

Mention the names of the most delicious novels that were published between the years 1840 and 1853, and name the character and scene that pleased you the most.

Whose gloves do you consider were the best?

What was the last elopement that created any sensation at Gretna Green?

State who was JULLIEN? also, whether he had anything to do with the soup that bears his celebrated name?

* * * * *

TEA-TABLE TALK.

A lady living at Peckham Rise has nearly ruined her husband by the enormous prices she has been giving for Cochin-China fowls. The poor fellow is always pointed at in the neighbourhood, so the story goes, as "the Cochin-China-pecked husband."

A gentleman at a party, where table-turning was the principal amusement of the evening, upon hearing that the power of turning mainly depended upon the will, instantly recommended his wife, as he "begged to assure the company she had a very strong one, and he had never known anything able to resist it."

* * * * *

A GOOD DIRTY JOB.

It is pleasant to find that the Commissioners of Sewers are stirring; notwithstanding the result proverbially ascribed to stirring in such matters: and we hope we shall soon be enabled to expect that the Metropolis will be drained with some degree of rational assewerance. If this great object is successfully accomplished, we take the liberty of recommending that the Chairman of the Commission should be raised to the Peerage, by the title of LORD SCAVENGER.

* * * * *

TEST OF GOOD HUMOUR.--Wake a man up in the middle of the night, and ask him to lend you five shillings.

* * * * *

* * * * *

"THE SOLDIER'S DREAM."

(_After_ T. CAMP-BELL. _By_ A. CAMP-BEAU.)

We were wet as the deuce; for like blazes it poured, And the sentinels' throats were the only things dry; And under their tents Chobham's heroes had cowered, The weary to snore, and the wakeful to sigh.

While dozing that night in my camp-bed so small, With a Mackintosh over to keep out the rain-- After one glass of grog, cold without--that was all-- I'd a dream, which I hope I shall ne'er have again.

Methought from damp Chobham's mock battle-array, I had bowled off to London, outside of a hack; 'Twas the season, and wax-lights illumined the way To the balls of Belgravia that welcomed me back.

I flew to the dancing-rooms, whirled through so oft With one sweet little partner, who tendril-like clung, I saw the grim chaperons, perched up aloft, And heard the shrill notes WEIPPERT'S orchestra flung.

_She_ was there--I would "pop"--and a guardsman no more, From my sweet little partner for life ne'er would part, When sudden I saw--just conceive what a bore-- A civilian--by Jove--laying siege to her heart!

"Out of sight, out of mind!" It was not to be borne-- To cut her, challenge him I was rushing away-- When sudden the twang of that vile bugle-horn Scared my visions, arousing the Camp for the day.

* * * * *

SPIRITS ABOVE PROOF.

It seems that DR. PAUL CULLEN and the Ultramontanists have procured the rejection, from the Irish National Schools, of the ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN'S _Evidences of Christianity_. Hence it may be presumed that the "_Evidences_" of ARCHBISHOP WHATELY are favourable specimens of WHATELY'S logic, and afford some really sensible and satisfactory reason for believing in the Christian religion.

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

FRIDAY, MAY 24, 18--.

I am not superstitious--certainly not: but when I woke this morning, I felt as if something would happen; though I said nothing to FRED. With the feeling that came upon me, I wouldn't have thought of going to France for worlds. I felt as if a war must break out, or something.

"I knew it; I was certain of it," said I, when I'd half read the letter from home.

"In that case," said FRED, in the most unconcerned way, which he _will_ call philosophy, whereas I think it downright imprudence--but I fear dear Mamma's right; all men are imprudent--"In that case, we might have saved postage."

"Now FRED, don't be frivolous. But I see, there'll be nothing right at home till we get fairly back. Everything will be sacrificed."--

"Is that your serious belief, my love?" said FRED, finishing his tea; and I nodded very decidedly.--"Well, then, suppose we pack up our traps and return to-day. And talking of home, you can't think, LOTTY, what a present you've made me without knowing it."

"Have I indeed? What present, love?"--

"It was in my sleep; but then, it was one of those dreams that always forerun the reality. Do you know I dreamt that we'd returned home, and somehow when I tried to sit down in my chair, up I jumped again; and so again and again. Whenever I tried to be quiet and stretch my legs out at my fireside, I seemed possessed with a legion of imps that would lift me from my seat and pull me towards the door."--

"Hm! That's a very ugly dream, FRED," said I; and I know I looked thoughtful.

"Very: but it's wonderful how, like a tranquillizing spirit, you appeared upon the scene. I thought, my dear, you looked more beautiful than is possible."--

"FREDERICK!"--

"Not but what I'm quite content as it is. You know, my love, it might have been worse."--

"Well," said I, "Mamma needn't have written to me that my honeymoon was nearly ended. It seems I'm not likely to forget _that_."

"And when it was impossible for me to remain in the chair--when I continued to get up and sit down, and run here and run there--then, as I say, you appeared like a benevolent fairy--bearing across one arm what seemed to me a rainbow turned to silk; and in the other hand carrying a pair of slippers."

"Well; and then?"--

"And then, with a thought, I had put on the morning-gown;--for it was that you carried--and placed my feet in the slippers. There never were more beautiful presents; never richer gifts for a wife to make her husband. For would you think it, LOTTY? No sooner had I wrapped the dressing-gown about me, than I became settled in the sweetest repose in my chair: and the very walls of the room seemed to make the softest music. And then the slippers! Most wonderful! Would you believe it, LOTTY--wherever the slippers touched, a flower sprang up; flowers and aromatic herbs! The very hearth seemed glowing and odorous with roses and thyme. But then, you know, it was only a dream, LOTTY. There's no such dressing-gown--and in this world no such slippers;" and then--I could see it--he looked in his odd way at me.

"I suppose not, FRED," said I; for I wouldn't seem to understand him. "And then, if such slippers could be found, where's the husband's feet to fit 'em? 'T would be another story of the glass slipper."

"Who knows when we get home? But what's happened?" and he pointed to the letter.

"Well, then, the pigeon-house has blown down; and Rajah's flown away; and a strange cat has killed the gold-fish; and, in fact, FRED--as dear Mamma writes to me; not, as she says, she'd have me worry myself about the matter--in fact the house wants a mistress."

"I have no doubt your excellent mother is right," said FRED; "and as you won't go to France, suppose we make way for _The Flitch_. Do you know, LOTTY, I'm curious to know if--after all--those slippers mayn't be found there."

"_I'll_ take care of that," said I; "but you know, FRED, we can't go back yet."

"Why not?"--

"Why, you know our honeymoon isn't quite out; and"--

"And what of that? We needn't burn all the moon from home. What if we put the last fragment on a save-all, and see it out at _The Flitch_?"

"It isn't to be done, FRED," said I; for I knew how people would talk. "Of course, 'twould be said we were tired of our own society, and so got home for company."

"Nevertheless," said FRED; "you take the flight of Rajah, that dear bird, with wondrous serenity."

And it then struck me that I did _not_ feel so annoyed as I ought. "Ha, FRED," said I, "you don't know what my feelings may be; don't misjudge me because I don't talk. I can assure you, I am very much disturbed;" and I _was_ vexed.

"Perhaps, then"--said FRED--"you'll take a little walk towards the Steyne; and recover yourself? I've some letters to write, my love: and--'twill do you good--I'll join you."

"Certainly"--said I--"of course; if you wish it," and then I wondered why he _should_ wish to get rid of me. It never happened before. Yes--and the thought came again _very forcibly_ upon me--it's plain the honeymoon's nearly out; and then I left the room; and as I left it, didn't I _nearly_ bang the door?

"Why should he wish to get rid of me?" I seemed quite bewildered with this question. Everything seemed to ask it. He could have written his letters without my leaving the house. However, I felt glad that I contained myself; and especially glad that I didn't bang the door.

Well, I ran and put on my bonnet; and then just peeping in at the door to FRED, said, "I'm going;" and in another minute was taking my way towards the Steyne. It was such a beautiful day; the sky so light; and the air so fresh and sweet, that--yes, in a little minute, my bit of temper had all passed away--and I did well scold myself that, for a moment, I had entertained it. I walked down upon the beach. Scarcely a soul was there: and I fell into a sort of dreamy meditation--thinking about _that_ morning-gown and _those_ slippers. "I'll get 'em for FRED, that I will;" I resolved within myself. "Roses _shall_ grow at the fireside; and repose _shall_ be in his arm-chair. _That_ I'm determined:" and as I resolved this with myself, everything about me seemed to grow brighter and more beautiful. And then I wished that we were well at home, and the slippers had, for once and all, been tried and fitted. The gulls flying about reminded me of Rajah: and I _did_ wonder at myself that I could think of his loss--that would have nigh killed me at one time--so calmly. But then, as Mamma said, and as I've since discovered,--it's wonderful what other trifles marriage makes one forget.

There was nobody upon the beach: so I sat down, and began a day-dreaming. How happy we should be at home, and how softly and sweetly all things would go with us! And still, as the waves ran and burst in foam upon the beach, I thought of the slippers.

I hardly knew how long I'd been there, when a little gypsey girl stood at my side, offering a nosegay. I looked and--yes, it was one of the gypsies, at whose tent FRED and I took shelter in the thunderstorm. However, before I could say a word, the little creature dropt the nosegay in my lap; and laughing, ran away.

Such a beautiful _bouquet_! Had it been a thing of wild or even of common garden flowers--but it was a _bouquet_ of exotics--and how were gypsies to come by such things? Then something whispered to me--"stole them."

I didn't like to throw the thing away; and as I remained meditating, FRED came up. "Pretty flowers, LOTTY," said he.

"Yes: selected with taste--great taste, an't they?" said I; and I cannot think what whim it was possessed me to go off in such praise of the _bouquet_.

"Pretty well," said FRED.

"Pretty well! my dear FRED; if you'll only look and attend, you'll own that the person who composed this _bouquet_ must have known all the true effect of colours."

"Indeed," said FRED; as I thought very oddly; so I went on.

"Every colour harmonizes; the light, you see, falling exactly in the right place; and yet everything arranged so naturally--so harmoniously. The white is precisely where it should be, and"--

"Is it truly?" and saying this, FRED twitched from among the flowers a note that like a mortal snake as I thought it lay there.

"Why, it's a letter!" I cried.

"It looks like it," said FRED.

"It was brought by a gypsey," said I; and I felt my face burning, and could have cried. "It's a mistake."

"Of course," said FRED: "what else, my love? Of course, a mistake."

And then he gave me his arm, and we returned towards the Inn. FRED laughed and talked; but somehow I felt so vexed: yes, I could have cried; and still FRED was so cool--so very cool.

* * * * *

ANOTHER CHANGE IN FRANCE.

Every liberal-minded person will be glad to hear that LOUIS NAPOLEON is about establishing baths and washhouses in Paris. The cause of order in France has been threatened chiefly by the unwashed; and the EMPEROR will promote the peace of society by causing that dangerous class to disappear.

* * * * *

THE BREAKSPEARE TESTIMONIAL.

According to the _Athenæum_, a Cardinal's hat is about to go round--in obedience, however, to no new force or principle. Our learned contemporary says:--

"There has been only one English Pope, and of him there has been hitherto no public monument in the city over which he ruled. The omission is now, it seems, to be rectified. A committee has been formed with a view to collect subscriptions; PIO NONO has given his blessing, CARDINAL ALTIERI his countenance, and CARDINAL WISEMAN has received instructions to collect the money in this country....The sum named for the monument is £6,000 ... A magnificent memorial is to be erected to him in St. Peter's. The attempt to elicit such a declaration in England at such a time is a clever trick enough; and in order to its success, one of the grounds of appeal to the pockets of Englishmen shows a profound knowledge of the weak side of our national character. Wherever JOHN BULL wanders, it has been observed that he carries with him a passion for recording his autograph. The BROWNS, and SMITHS, and JONESES write their names on the Pantheon and Pyramids, temple and tomb. The Cardinals have had the wit to make a direct appeal to this passion; they offer to inscribe the name of every donor of £60--which they are willing to receive in monthly instalments of 20s.--on the base of the monument of POPE NICHOLAS BREAKSPEARE."

Under POPE NICHOLAS BREAKSPEARE, _alias_ ADRIAN IV, ARNOLD of Brescia was burned alive--having first, we believe, had his nose wrung off with red hot pincers. Who will indorse the sentence upon ARNOLD by causing his name to be carved on the monument of NICHOLAS?

As nearly seven centuries have elapsed since the time when this mild and beneficent Pontiff flourished, there may perhaps be no portrait in existence to afford any idea of his venerable physiognomy. With what sort of a face to represent him, then, may be a difficulty: unless the problem should be solved by a special miracle. Failing that, the best plan would be to give him the features of somebody likely to resemble him. NERO might do for the model: but NERO'S is not an English face. Under these circumstances GREENACRE might be suggested: but as ADRIAN IV was a man of some force of character, perhaps, on the whole, it would be better to choose RUSH.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ANOTHER IRISH GRIEVANCE.

WESTMINSTER BRIDGE--The new one, is, according to SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, to be built of stone from Ireland. Another evidence of the eagerness of the Saxon to trample upon everything Irish.

* * * * *

LAYING IT ON THICK.

Of a certain author--or artist--or actor--or somebody else--who had acquired much notoriety by laudatory criticisms--it was said that his reputation was built of plaster.

* * * * *

PUNCH AT A ROYAL CHRISTENING.

It is not often that _Punch_ has to protest against anything that happens at our own Court, but unless the Court Newsman has misinformed us, there was something very objectionable in the proceedings at Buckingham Palace on the occasion of the last Royal Christening. Recollecting that the Sponsors promise in the name of the infant to renounce "the pomp and glory of this world," we cannot help asking whether the following description of what took place is not lamentably at variance with the spirit of the promise that was given:--

"The sacred rite was performed in the private chapel in the Palace, which was duly prepared for the occasion. Two rows of chairs of crimson satin and gold were placed on each side of the centre, for the use of the QUEEN, the Sponsors, and the Royal personages invited to be present."

This might pass as coming under the head of luxury rather than of pomp, but what shall we say to the next paragraph?--

"The altar was lined with crimson velvet, panelled with gold lace, and on the communion-table were placed the golden vessels used in the Sacrament, with salvers and two large candlesticks. Seats of crimson and gold were placed for the officiating clergy. The font was placed in advance of the _haut pas_; it was a most elegantly formed tazza of silver gilt, the rim was formed of the leaves and flowers of the water lily, and the base from which its elegant stem sprang was composed of infant angels playing the lyre; in the front was the Royal arms. The font was placed on a fluted plinth of white and gold."

Riches, we are taught, add to the difficulty of entering the Kingdom of Heaven, then why this profusion of gold to encumber the first step of a Royal infant on his entrance into the Church which is to secure his eternal happiness? "Gold lace," "golden vessels," and seats of "crimson and gold" for the clergy, are scarcely the appliances that would seem appropriate to the ceremony of receiving the "sign of the cross," which is certainly not typified by any of the accessories of pomp and splendour that abounded on that occasion. Surely this must have struck on the mind of some one or more of the assembled grandees, who, if not too much wrapt up in the idea of their own and the surrounding grandeur, may have remarked that

"Over the altar was a fine piece of tapestry representing the baptism of our Saviour."

If the tapestry told the truth, there would be no clergy in gold seats; no font appropriated to Royalty by a vulgar display of the Royal arms over the front of it; and no infants or any one else "playing the lyre" at the simple solemnity, of which a Royal Christening is but a gaudy mockery.

As a further assistance to the infant in renouncing the pomps and vanities of the world, we find that

"The Heralds and Kings of Arms were on duty to usher the distinguished personages to their places in the chapel, and conduct the Royal processions. There were present ALBERT WILLIAM WOODS, ESQ., Lancaster Herald; WALTER ASTON BLOUNT, ESQ., Chester Herald; JAMES PULMAN, ESQ., Clarenceux King of Arms; ROBERT LAURIE, ESQ., Norroy King of Arms; and SIR CHARLES GEORGE YOUNG, Garter Principal King of Arms; the whole wearing their splendid tabards, and the Kings of Arms their distinctive insignia."

It is really sad to think that in an age which prides itself on common sense, and at a Court confessedly adorned by the many virtues of the Sovereign and her family, conventionalism still holds such sway, that one whom it is no flattery to call an ornament to her high position still feels herself under the necessity of converting a solemn religious ceremony into a vulgar display of luxury and vanity. Can it be supposed that the admission of the Royal infant into the Christian flock required the assistance of archbishops, bishops, and clergy on seats of crimson and gold, the presence of Heralds and Kings-of-Arms, a whole bundle of Gold and other Sticks, the Master of the Buckhounds, and the whole hue and cry of Court "pride, pomp, and circumstance;" which, however appropriate to some occasions, are utterly at variance with the admission of an infant to a religion for which humility is one of the chief requisites?

The Court is justly looked to in this country as an example; and the QUEEN, as mother, wife, and woman, is indeed one whom all would do well to imitate. For this reason we still more regret the recent display which will set all the servile crew of imitators to work to emulate, as far as they can, the pomps and vanities of a Royal Christening. The influence will extend down to some of the humblest ranks of society, and we shall have the _Herald_ and the _Post_ full of accounts of how MRS. JONES of Jonesville had the altar decorated, the Bishop got up, the font covered with the arms of JONES, and all the appliances of Royalty aped at the baptism of the JONESIAN infant.

We have no objection to the party, and the banquet after the ceremony, but when the next comes--and we hope there may be many yet--we trust HER MAJESTY will use her own good sense, and release all future Royal Christenings from the trappings of pomp and vanity with which custom has hitherto entangled them. We must say, in conclusion, that HER MAJESTY is not responsible for all the pompous foolery against which we have raised our voice, for it has been customary long before she came to the throne, and she has, in many instances, had the courage and good sense to abolish many empty observances. We hope, on the next occasion of a Royal Christening, to find her exercising her own proper feeling in divesting the occasion of all those forms which are at variance with its spirit.

* * * * *

CHOKING IN THE ARMY.

There is one species of Stock in the conversion of which no difficulty whatever would be experienced. Indeed, the experiment with this description of Stock has been successfully tried in the Indian portion of the British Empire; as is proved by the following extract from a general order:--

"The Commander-in-Chief is pleased to direct the entire discontinuance of the leather stock in all the Honourable Company's European regiments under this Presidency."

The British soldier would be very much obliged to LORD HARDINGE, if the gallant nobleman would please to convert his Stock from a rigid, galling, strangling band of leather into a collar of more flexible material. That common tailors occasionally discount bills is no reason why "clothing Colonels" should have to do such a "bit of stiff" for their men as the military Stock. The infliction of flogging in the army has been greatly mitigated, even in the cases of grave offenders; would it not be as well to abolish altogether the gratuitous punishment of the Stocks?

* * * * *

SPIRITUAL MANIFESTATIONS GOING A-HEAD!

REV. GLENDOWER S. FIBBS, of Salem, U. S., has been induced, by the extensive interest of the British aristocracy in the SPIRITUAL MANIFESTATIONS which have lately been introduced from America, to visit this country with a view to the exhibition of OCCULT PHENOMENA, on a scale which, owing to the prevalence of an illiberal spirit of persecution, has been hitherto unattempted in this or any other country since the era of Egyptian magic. He is accompanied by three ACTUALLY POSSESSED MEDIUMS, who will utter responses, and afford correct information on doctrinal subjects, under the influence of SPIRITS. He has also, at the expenditure of a considerable sum, secured the co-operation of a genuine WIZARD and WITCH from Boston, Mass., who will prove the REALITY OF SORCERY and MAGIC by OCULAR DEMONSTRATION, to the satisfaction of the most incredulous and determined sceptic.

The WIZARD will evoke the SPIRIT of any DECEASED PERSON who may be agreed upon by the Party Assembled, and compel it to appear in a visible form before the eyes of the Spectators, deliver predictions, &c. The WITCH will perform the much controverted, but undeniable and surprising feat of RIDING ON A BROOMSTICK; and to illustrate the power of SORCERY over the elements, will raise a Tempest on a small scale by BREWING A STORM in a Tea-pot. She will also exhibit the marvellous PHENOMENA of TRANSFORMATION, by changing herself succesively into the shape of various animals: after which she will summon her FAMILIARS, in the shape of CATS, TOADS and SPIDERS, and finally, together with her ATTENDANT IMPS, VANISH UP THE CHIMNEY. The WITCH and WIZARD are really and truly what they profess to be, having both of them effected a _bonâ fide_ sale of themselves for 100 dollars a-piece to the GREAT MASTER, well known as the LARGEST SLAVE OWNER OUT OF THE STATES.

The _soirée_ to conclude with the APPEARANCE of the DEUCE himself, whom the REV. GLENDOWER S. FIBBS will raise in a magic circle upon the platform, entirely divested of supernatural terrors which might be calculated to alarm the timid and nervous. The circle will be so carefully charmed, as to preclude all possibility of his breaking through it, as effectually as if he were a bear on the top of a pole. The object of the REV. G. S. F., being to convince the Public of the fact of Spiritual Existences, will, he trusts, meet with the SUPPORT and APPROBATION of serious and enlightened minds.

_At home every morning from 10 to 2, for private consultations._

Obnoxious Parties bewitched; Discovery of Stolen Goods, Philtres, &c., &c., on moderate terms.

_Magic Mirrors, Divining Rods, &c., Loaned or Sold, Soirées commence at 8._

AMERICAN DRINKS.

* * * * *

* * * * *

OUR RUPTURE WITH RUSSIA.

We cannot help regretting that anything should be done by our military authorities to irritate the sore place which has been established in our relations with Russia. We, therefore, read with a degree of pain--which made us almost cry out, for we were really much hurt--that a letter dated June 27th, 1853, has gone out from the Horse Guards, prohibiting all general and staff officers from wearing Russia ducks by way of trousers. Whether this is meant as an insult to Russia we are unable to state; but we fear that Russia in the present sensitive state of affairs will regard this declaration of war against Russia ducks as an indication of a desire to provoke hostilities.

* * * * *

DIPLOMATIC PASTRY.--There is every probability that the dish heretofore known as NESSELRODE Pudding will, in future, be denominated Humble Pie.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A SEAMSTRESS THAT WON'T STARVE.

The _Glasgow Chronicle_ describes a sewing machine, which has been introduced by a MR. DARLING. This DARLING will be considered a duck by some of our fashionable milliners; and his Jenny will be just the seamstress for their money, as she will ask no wages, want no food but a little oil, and be able to do without any rest whatever. Our own shirts, also, will be more comfortable to wear when we shall be enabled to think to ourselves that their manufacture has been ground out of wheels and cogs at small cost, and not out of human nerves and muscles for miserable pay.

* * * * *

DRINKING HEALTH.

MR. HARKER will perhaps have the goodness to propose at the next great Civic banquet this toast:--"Extramural Interment: or the Incorporation of London with Gravesend."

* * * * *

THE KEY TO THE RUSSIAN QUESTION.

It seems after all that the great _casus belli_ between the Porte and Russia is "Who shall keep the key of the Greek Church?" The contest is to determine whether the key in question shall dangle on the watch-chain of the Greek, or hang on the bunch with the street-door and other keys of the Latin patriarch. We might as well allow the EMPEROR OF CHINA to interfere with us, and insist on appointing a protector of Temple Bar, for the purpose of deciding whether the QUEEN or the LORD MAYOR shall have the custody of that rusty old myth, the Key of the City. It is absurd, and yet awful to think, that all Europe should be kept on the _qui vive_ about a key of no real value, and which, in fact, nobody cares about.

We think we can furnish a key to the whole difficulty, and we can point the way to a pacific solution of the question by putting the affair into the hands of our friend CHUBB of St. Paul's Churchyard, or our equally enlightened friend BRAMAH of Piccadilly. We are convinced that either of these ingenious individuals will undertake to dispose of the question, "Who shall keep the key?" by furnishing each party with a duplicate. By this arrangement either of the individuals claiming custody of the key will have it in his power to avoid the necessity of either picking the lock or picking a quarrel.

* * * * *

ENTERPRISING UNDERTAKERS.

OPHELIA, in her madness, exclaims, "They say the owl was a baker's daughter." This was a delirious mistake. What they do say, or ought to say, is, that the owl is an undertaker's son. For truly the son of a certain sort of undertaker has an owl for his father: is an owl and the son of an owl, that ominous bird which

"Puts the wretch that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud."

Witness the subjoined statement by a correspondent of the _Daily News_:--

"A member of my family is just recovering from an illness which, for a time, kept all about her in daily apprehension. The fact of the illness becoming known in the neighbourhood, I am forthwith inundated with undertakers' circulars, in which all the horrid paraphernalia of the tomb are set forth, together with the various merits, "readiness," "dispatch," &c., of the applicant, expectant of his job, and all this is shamelessly, indecently, wantonly, thrust before the very eyes of afflicted relatives, watching the sick bed with feelings racked between the alternations of hope and despair."

Precisely as the light in the sick chamber elicits the shriek of the screech-owl, so does the muffled knocker attract the puffs of the advertising undertaker. With the attributes of the owl, however, these death-hunters combine the propensities of the crow and the vulture, which repair to the spot whereon a creature is dying, and hover impatiently about their prey that still breathes. Occasionally, no doubt, the vultures and crows, by a premature bite or dig of the beak, expedite the process of dissolution, and very likely the other birds of prey not unfrequently do the same thing: for one of these undertakers' circulars getting, by the folly of an old nurse, or any other misfortune, into the hands of a person dangerously ill, would be extremely likely to occasion a fatal shock, and convert the expected corpse into an actual one.

The writer in the _Daily News_ says that he called on one of the senders of these disgusting handbills, and informed the sordid and unfeeling snob that in case the services proffered by him were ever, unhappily, required, he would undoubtedly not be employed to render them. It is to be hoped that the determination expressed by this gentleman will be strenuously acted on by everybody else; and that when any one gets hold of a communication of this sort under similar circumstances, he will, instead of flinging it in a rage behind the fire, carefully preserve it, for the purpose of showing it to all his acquaintance, in order that they may make a note of the advertiser's name, lest they should ever forget it, and be induced to give any custom to such an odious brute.

Mind, however, that if you will associate sepulture with upholstery, you must expect to have upholsterers looking to sepulture with mere upholsterers' feelings. You ought not to be surprised that undertakers speculate on the prospect of a job at your house. It should not astonish you if one of these gentry were to propose to measure your wife or child for a coffin. If your funerals must needs be "furnished," your funeral furniture will involve competition, and its incidental snobbisms. Put away the soul's old clothes in a plain box, with decent rites and no other ceremony. Deposit them where they may most conveniently decompose, and deposit as little as possible of any value to decompose with them. Why should it cost a considerable sum to put a small piece of organic framework into earth? Whilst that operation continues to be expensive, we shall be sure to be pestered by candidates for its performance, invading the very chamber of sickness with tenders of cheap coffins, reduced shrouds, moderate palls, ridiculously low hearses, economical mourning coaches, and highly reasonable feathers.

* * * * *

THE GREAT CAB REFORM.

AFTER several years of grumbling on the part of the public, we have at last got a Government that has been "strong enough" to venture on what, in the highly intelligent circles of Downing Street, has hitherto been considered the "hazardous question" of Cab Reform. It is a positive fact that until MR. FITZROY took the matter in hand, every administration has been "afraid" of the introduction of a Cab Bill, lest it should have opened the door to opposition, or, in other words, the public were to be crammed into wretched cabs, lest the Cab-in-et should be turned out.

Everybody with half a grain of common sense was perfectly well aware that Cab Reform would be one of the most popular things a Government could undertake; but it has required several years to make this plain fact intelligible in high quarters; and even now, there has been a timidity in dealing with some portions of the subject of Cab Reform, which, though the new Act is very good, as far as it goes, will soon cause the public to complain. We, however, desire to give all praise where it is due; and especially to MR. FITZROY, who will go down to posterity with his aggravated Assaults' Act in one hand, and his Cab Law in the other, to say nothing of the County Courts' Measure sticking out of his pocket. The sympathy shown by the present Government towards riders in cabs affords a proof that we have in the Administration--(now, reader, prepare to be knocked over by an unexpected blow)--a few really Cabbin'-it Ministers. We will conclude with a lyric tribute to MR. FITZROY, adapted to the itinerant air of--

CHEER! BOYS, CHEER!

Cheer! boys, cheer! no more of imposition, Cabs at true fares shall bear us on our way; MAYNE'S smart police shall show the proper tariff, Telling us exactly what we have to pay. So farewell, fraud--much as we've endured thee, We'll let alone what may have gone before, Why should we growl at having paid back carriage, We shall not have to pay it any more. Cheer! boys, cheer! for _Punch_ and MR. FITZROY, Cheer! boys, cheer! for _Punch_ is our right hand; Cheer! boys, cheer! there's fruit of FITZROY'S labour, Cheer! boys, cheer! for the new Improved Cab Stand.

Cheer! boys, cheer! no wind is on us blowing, Through broken panes upon our neck and chest, This horse can go the distance we are going, By over work he is no more opprest; Once we had cabs--than hencoops scarcely better-- Through open spaces letting in the rain; Now, ours shall be the clean and well-built carriage, And at a price as moderate again. Cheer! boys, cheer! &c.

* * * * *

PASSIONATE MEN.

"Men in a passion should be treated like kettles--when they boil over, they should be taken off."

* * * * *

PECUNIARY DEMANDS.

Of all men it must be confessed that the Tax-gatherer has the most calls for his money.

* * * * *

A GUARDSMAN'S CONFESSION (_overheard at Chobham_).--"On my word there's no greater Bore in the world than your military Drill!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

STANZAS TO ERIN. ON THE DUBLIN EXHIBITION.

Oh Emerald Isle, brightest pearl of the ocean, First flower of the earth, on thy newly-born wings Soar up to the sky, with triumphant emotion, Whilst thou sittest, receiving the homage of kings.

Raise, Erin, thy brow, which no longer is clouded And seared by the cold brand of chilling neglect; Stand forth in the garb of festivity shrouded As thy sons and thy daughters, fair maiden, expect.

Exchanging thy widowhood's lonely condition For the splendour and state of a blushing young bride, Preside, unabashed, o'er thy Great Exhibition, Thy heart humbly swelling with glory and pride.

Yes, Ireland, thy lap filled with all the world's riches, Of thy shirt-sleeves the elbows, gone ragged of yore, Shall no longer hang out at the knees of thy breeches, And the toes of thy brogues out at heel go no more.

Too long has the Demon of fell agitation, By the dark torch of discord diffused o'er the land, Created a stir, which has caused a stagnation, Bringing business, and everything else, to a stand.

Away with Brigades--they're all mighty bad bargains; Away with those heads that are nothing but tails, The footsteps for you, boys, to follow, are DARGAN'S: And don't proceed backwards in DR. MACHALE'S!

* * * * *

AN OBVIOUS MISTAKE.

An advertisement has appeared in nearly all the papers, announcing as a "novel and thrilling attraction" that

"Two ladies will make their ascent on Monday evening next, suspended from the car of the Royal Cremorne Balloon."

There is evidently some mistake in the announcement of this unwomanly and degrading exhibition. We cannot well allow that to be an "ascent" where the parties engaged so completely lower themselves.

* * * * *

INSPECTION OF CAVALRY BY GENERAL PUNCH.

MAJOR-GENERAL PUNCH having appointed this day for the inspection of the QUEEN'S Piebalds, that gallant and distinguished corps arrived at Chamomile Scrubs at 9 o'clock in full marching order, and formed line with rear to the railway, to await the arrival of the General. The inspections of the General are generally looked forward to with much interest by the cavalry, in consequence of their practical nature; and this being so close upon the Chobham affair, a considerable amount of cramming had been practised by the subalterns, who had given up their days and nights to the getting up of their "echelons," "wheels," &c., and the other interesting information afforded by the book published by authority of the Adjutant-General.

The General arrived shortly after the troops, and immediately proceeded to business. He first inspected the ranks; and having ascertained (as indeed had been ascertained before, in "troop," "squad," and "grand parade") that the men's hair was cut according to the regulations, that the whiskers were in line with their ears, and that their "boots were polished and jackets were trim," he made a minute inspection of the appointments, pointing out the mode of fastening the carabine as giving ample room for improvement. The pouch he was particularly displeased with, asking somewhat snappishly, "What the devil it did at the back when it was wanted in the front?" He also made some observations about the cartridges, blank as well as ball, which we couldn't catch. The regiment then marched past by squadron, files, troops, threes, &c. While ranking past by single file--a movement, by the bye, which is particularly slow in more senses than one--the General resumed the subject of the appointments, and paid particular attention to the valise, and mode of packing it; but as his observations were repeated in an after part of the day, we need not here insert them.

The sword exercise was next performed in a manner which did great credit to the adjutant. Indeed the pursuing practice, at a gallop, was particularly exciting; the troops scouring the Scrubs in pursuit of nothing, with a zeal and vigour which must have struck terror into the heart of NICHOLAS, or even his illustrious namesake himself, had either witnessed the scene.

The evolutions next commenced, GENERAL PUNCH himself giving the word of command--the practice he always adopts at his inspections, in order to prevent the possibility of commanding officers cramming their troops with a series of common-place movements. However, things went off very well, notwithstanding. While the skirmishers were out the General took the opportunity of again pointing out the great inconvenience, not to say the utter uselessness of the pouch, which article of war, by the bye, he seems to be properly "down upon." It was noticed indeed that nearly all the skirmishers dispensed entirely with its use, putting their ammunition in their breasts, or rather, in the breasts of their coats. The gallant General galloped about from flank to flank with great fury, "dressing" the line and the leaders with a nicety which must have greatly pleased the adjutant. The manner in which he shouted "Up, up, up, up the l-l-left!" "Back the r-r-right!" must also have been equally approved of by that officer.

On returning to barracks, the General went round the stables, attended by the Colonel and the officers of their respective troops. It is this part of the day's business that always causes the "funking" (if we may be allowed to apply that term in military matters) of the officers. The General being well "up" in all the minutiæ of stable economy, mostly puzzles the officers with his curious information respecting straps, buckles, wallets, shoe-cases, &c., a sort of information which, though it may be thought "boring" to acquire, and though it may seldom be necessary for officers to apply in quarters, would be found very essential in actual warfare, or at Chobham, where it was not unlikely an officer might be left without his "batman," and have to shift for himself.

We give a specimen of the sort of information required by the General of these affairs, premising however that he does not select an individual officer, and subject him to a lengthened catechism; but good-humouredly dodges from one to another, so that no one feels as if he had been subjected to an "examination." The following may be given as a summary of the answers elicited:--

LIEUT. SO AND SO.--Had been in the Piebalds 4 years, a Lieutenant 3 years; has had command of the troop sometimes in the absence of the Captain; had frequently sat on Courts-martial, which he considered a bore: didn't know who rode _that_ horse--didn't know the horse's number; the horse in the next stall was "rode" by a serjeant; didn't know the serjeant's name; knew he was a serjeant, because he wore three stripes. Thought a cloak strap had something to do with a cloak, didn't know how it was fastened; supposed to the saddle somehow. A troop horse had oats and hay, and some pails of water every day--about so much; the exact amount was down in the stable regulations which he had read--remembered reading them once at the head of the troop when he first joined; LIEUT. WHIFFIN pelted him with nuts while he was doing so. Couldn't answer the question, "Do you bruise your oats?" there was nothing in the stable regulations about that. Knew how to pack a valise, _viz._, "according to the Articles of War and the provisions of the Mutiny Act;" knew there was a standing order about it, didn't recollect the whole of it; knew the forage cap "was to be placed on the heels of the highlows;" was certain of that: thought on that plan the boots and spurs might be rolled up in a shirt; blacking, and pipeclay-sponge along with the socks; thought it likely that the cap wouldn't be in a fit state to wear after being on the highlows, but couldn't help that; it was the regulation. Knew what a private's daily pay was, didn't know what a lance corporal's was; didn't know what either paid for daily messing, didn't want to know; knew what _he_ paid very well. Hadn't the remotest idea how much meat or bread would be required for fifty men, should say a precious sight; didn't know whether the men were allowed beer, had reason to believe they drank it, or something else sometimes. Didn't know much about encampments, how should he? Had been reading up for Chobham, couldn't find out whether the _ch_ was hard or soft. Rather liked the idea of encamping, thought there would be some fun. Didn't know much about pitching a tent; supposed it would have some reference to keeping it dry; but his batman or some one else would attend to that sort of thing. GUNTER was going to forage for their mess. Thought any joking about campaign and Champagne stoopid: no one but a civilian would attempt it.

The General wound up the day's proceedings by visiting the Hospital, School Room, Library, and outhouses; and--having satisfied himself as to the state of the barracks, read all the books in the library, examined every man's accounts in each troop, ascertained the particulars of every case in hospital--adjourned to the mess, where the festivities were kept with the usual spirit of the Piebalds.

* * * * *

BORE AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

TO THE RIGHT HON. SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.

"I am a Man upon Town; that is, I confess, I spend the greater part of my time in idling thereabout. But now and then I am seized with a desire to improve my mind, expand my faculties, elevate my ideas--and all that sort of thing--and in this proper disposition I go to the British Museum: which I find shut.

"I don't know how this is. My own fault? I ought to know that the Museum is only open on certain days? Yes, I ought--but I don't. I forget the days. I can't remember them; and other people who are not so indolent as I am, and take pains to recollect them, forget them too.

"Besides, if I am indolent, I am one of the British Public, for whose use and amusement the British Museum is meant, and think its arrangements ought, in a reasonable measure, to be accommodated to my indolence.

"But what you will, perhaps, regard as a consideration of greater weight, there are numerous persons who only get a leisure day occasionally; and that leisure, like my fit of diligence, is safe to occur on a day when the Museum is closed.

"Why not throw the British Museum open every day, except on the few days when it may be necessary, if it is necessary, that artists should have it all to themselves--like the National Gallery? What good do the statues, the stuffed animals, the antiquities, and the mummies do half their time, wasting their sweetness on the desert--or at least the vacant--air? It would be much better if they were putting some ideas into my vacant mind.

"I wish, like a good fellow, you would attend to this, as Chief Commissioner of Works, and have the British Museum thrown open, or get the Trustees, or whatever you call the authorities, to throw it open daily, or as nearly so as possible, to suit the convenience of industrious fellows, and the desultory habits of

"AN INCONSTANT READER."

"P.S. HER MAJESTY'S subjects have to thank you for admission to Kew Gardens on a Sunday. It would be a capital thing if you could get the Museum opened to them likewise; particularly as the Nineveh sculptures, I understand, are regular 'sermons in stones'--to borrow the expression of--I believe--SHAKSPEARE."

* * * * *

RUSSIAN REASONS.

(_Being the English change for_ COUNT NESSELRODE'S _Circular Note_.)

As PRINCE MENSCHIKOFF'S mission has caused a great rumpus, And a notion prevails that the Czar's in the wrong, And as England and France may be able to stump us, These our reasons you'll state, Courts and Cabinets among.

You need scarcely point out that of truth there's no particle In the monstrous report, that our threatenings of war Are meant to enforce on the Sultan an article Which puts twelve million Turks 'neath the thumb of the Czar.

As no Cabinet gravely can hold such a notion, You will go on at once to impress, at your Court, The Czar's Christian care and unselfish devotion For the Russo-Greek Church in the realms of the Porte.

You will say that his feelings are strictly parental Towards that Church, of which he is the father and head. That the influence he wields is all moral and mental-- A fact proved by all he has done--at least, said.

Describe the Czar's wish to know wherefore this heat is At demands which existing conventions allow; Cite Kainardji's and Adrianople's two treaties, And point out that they give all we're asking for now.

Show how, from beginning to end of the business, All about Holy Places the question has been; That, if 'twixt us and France there was some slight uneasiness, The horizon on that side is now quite serene.

That the Russo-Greek rights have been clearly admitted, And secured by a firman, and Hatti-Scheriff; So that France and the Latin Communions outwitted, Yield the _pas_ to the Russo-Greek Church and its chief.

Recapitulate then, as these rights--in the first place-- Are what Russia has always enjoyed, beyond doubt; And as--secondly--France is now put in the worst place In the matter, whereon she and Russia fell out;

And as--in the third place--the Sultan has granted All we asked by a Firman, which clearly maintains The rights of our Church, which was all we e'er wanted; And as--in the fourth place--my note thus explains

The duplicity, weakness, and tergiversation Which the Porte through the whole of this business has shown, And proves, too, the Czar's great forbearance and patience, Guided, as he has been, by his duty alone;--

We cannot conceive what he's taken to task for, If on the offensive he ventures to act, Seeing that we have always had all we now ask for, And have since got a firman confirming the fact.

Submit the above, as a full demonstration, That no option we've had, 'tween disgrace and a war, And ask if the Porte had so used them, what nation But _must_ have done just what's been done by the Czar?

* * * * *

THE SOLDIER'S FIRST STEP.

The chief difficulty of military science, as studied at the Camp at Chobham, has proved during the late wet weather to consist in the elements.

* * * * *

A CASE IN PINT.

On what model has the India Bill been formed? On that of a pale ale bottle, one would think, for it seems to be a very insufficient measure.

* * * * *

* * * * *

DOMESTIC RESULTS OF THE CAMP.

The Camp at Chobham has already so far answered its purpose as to have given a powerful impetus to the military propensities of the rising generation, and there has been a considerable muster of troops in many a nursery, which may, on this occasion, be termed a nursery for young soldiers.

We lately had the privilege of being present at a Grand Nursery Review and Sham Fight, where the Wooden Cavalry, under the command of MASTER JONES, stood a fierce attack from a division of tin soldiery under the able direction of MASTER and MISS TODDLEKINS. The ground occupied was a sort of table land, having for its surface a _tapis vert_, or green cover. MASTER JONES was on the spot early, and the Wooden Cavalry were at once disturbed from their bivouac; and the sentries having been summoned from their boxes, took up a strong position behind some lines formed of an open dictionary, which admitted of the soldiers being disposed in double columns. The Wooden Cavalry looked remarkably well, though some of them were evidently veterans who had been in the wars, for there were many without arms, a few without heads, and here and there a horse had been curtailed of a tail, or some other usual adjunct. MASTER and MISS TODDLEKINS now brought up--from down-stairs--a considerable body of tin soldiery of every arm--though, occasionally, deficient of a leg--and these having been drawn up exactly opposite to the Wooden Cavalry, both sides were prepared to give or take battle.

The proceedings commenced by the sound of a trumpet feebly blown by MISS TODDLEKINS, and responded to on the drum by MASTER JONES, when a smart fire of peas, ably directed by MASTER TODDLEKINS, was opened on the wooden cavalry. The double columns of "_Johnson's Dictionary_" for a time sheltered the forces under MASTER JONES; but a sudden _sortie_ made by MISS TODDLEKINS shook the opposing force with such violence that several fell _en masse_, and the _mêleé_ becoming general, great numbers on both sides were savagely put to the pea-shooter. The forces under MASTER JONES being now entirely put to the rout, their young commander grew desperate and threw down upon the foe all his strength, combined in one enormous volume--of the dictionary already alluded to.

The loss on both sides was considerable, and among the casualties must be enumerated an accident of a rather harassing nature to MR. JONES SENIOR who, while surveying the field of battle, received in a small indentation on the right of his nose one of the largest peas of the enemy. It is satisfactory, however, to add that the battle was decisive, for no animosity remained on the minds of the young chiefs on either side, who, having removed the killed and wounded, immediately spread the _tapis vert_ with a repast of the choicest jams, which they all freely partook of. The only soreness that remained was on the part of MR. JONES SENIOR, but his anger was soon appeased, and the peas were speedily forgotten.

* * * * *

A FLOURISHING BUSINESS.

Here is a bit of fine writing:--

"We have been led to imagine that the dark cloud which impended over commerce in the time of the Star Chamber, had been scattered by the onward progress of civil freedom--we have from early childhood been thankful that we were not born in the days when serfdom crippled the body and bigotry the mind of man, and we cannot think your Lordship will pledge the legislation of the 19th century to an enactment so offensive as this irresponsible police power is to"--

To whom? Well--taking "commerce" as a misprint for "conscience" one might imagine that the remonstrants were "Maltese Cross JOHN TUAM," DANIEL, or DENNIS, or DERMOT, or whatever-his-name-is CAHILL, FREDERICK LUCAS, and other such gentry--and clergy--denouncing a sanguinary, atrocious, diabolical, fiendish, &c. &c. proposition for the deliverance of nuns from false imprisonment. But no. The individuals to whom the "irresponsible police power" is "offensive," are simply

"One branch of English tradesmen."

That is to say, they are the Metropolitan Omnibus Proprietors, complaining by the pen of MR. H. GRAY, their Chairman, to LORD ABERDEEN, against certain clauses of the Hackney Carriage Act. We dare say this "one branch of English tradesmen" will no more be rendered subject to an "irresponsible police power" than any other branch of the same tree; but if "like master like man" is a true proverb, the proprietors of omnibuses are gentlemen whom it is quite right the police should "look after," and, at least, have power to make them "move on." We are glad to see that they admire the onward progress of civil freedom, and hope they will contrive to make their drivers and conductors stick to that; for the liberty which those persons are in the habit of taking is too often destitute of civility.

* * * * *

OUR QUARTER'S ACCOUNT.

MR. PUNCH'S Quarterly account has, like that of the nation, been duly made up, and presents equally satisfactory results with the national finance sheet.

There has been an increase of 537 Epigrams on the corresponding quarter in last year.

In the Jokes department there has been no very great increase, but this is accounted for by the contributor whose business it is to make them having fancied himself in love, and taken to ultra-sentimental poetry. But we are happy to state that he has been unmistakeably thrown over by the young lady, and will at once return to his duties.

On the Capital Hits the increase is very large, and although this may in some measure be due to the military array at Chobham, there is no reason to think there will be a drawback, especially as no announcement has appeared of any intention to close Parliament or the Princess's Theatre.

On the Imports and Stamps, that is to say, the original plays, and the actors' displays, there is a small diminution, owing to a pair of spectacles and the warm evenings, but _Mr. Punch_ anticipates that he shall have a different account to give at his next return, and after his next return check.

The Great Cuts show their usual average of 13 to the quarter, but evince the remarkable progressive phenomenon of each being more supernaturally brilliant than its predecessor, and adding a new lustre to this unparalleled gallery of Social and Political Satire, prompted by Philanthropy, elevated by High Art, recognised by the Million, and published at 85, Fleet Street.

On every item in the Miscellaneous List the return is comparatively, as well as positively and superlatively satisfactory. To the Bride in her Honeymoon, to the Cabman and the Cabinet Minister at their respective boxes, to the Bribed Elector in his Dungeon and to the Spirit Rapper in his Sell, to the Artist before, the Candidate after, and the Soldier under, his Canvass, to the woman-smiting ruffian, now (thanks to FITZROY) catching it from Beak and Clause, to the spoiled juvenile at the Jellies and the Undergraduate at the Isis, to the Actor at the Wing and the Author at the Tale, to the Fisherman at the Perch and to the Politician knocked off it, to the Turk by his Port, to the Guardsman by his Tent, to the Policeman by his Cape, the Exeter Arcade Beadle by his White Hermitage, and to the Masquerader by his patron saint JULLIEN, _Mr. Punch_ is delighted to say that they will all find their account in looking through his accounts for the last quarter.

* * * * *

ELECTIONS WITH ACCOMPANIMENTS.

(_To the Member for Lincoln._)

It is, COLONEL SIBTHORP, as you say, a mean, dirty, shabby, and disgraceful measure--that Expenses of Elections Bill, which prohibits flags and bands of music at Parliamentary elections. Flags, no doubt, materially assist a thinking man in the process of deliberation, by which he determines on a fit and proper person to represent him in Parliament. But, waving the flags, let us more particularly denounce the prohibition of music. The proposal, of course, arose from an absence of music in the soul, and a fitness for treasons on the part of the revolutionist who originated it.

But abuse, COLONEL, is not argument. Relinquishing the former, let us bring forward the latter.

Election music is an institution of our ancestors; and, _you_ may say, was intended for the promotion of harmony between opposite parties. When it was first introduced, philharmonic art was in the state wherein it had been left by Saint CECILIA, and had not arrived at the perfection which it has attained to under M. JULLIEN. The wisdom of our ancestors was greatly in advance of their music; their common sense was acute, but their perception of sweet sounds obtuse; they had "a reasonable good ear in music," according to _Bottom's_ idea thereof; let them have the tongs and bones--give them _Bumper Squire Jones_, _Old Sir Simon the King_, _The Roast Beef of Old England_, and the like, and they were content. Tunes that the old cow died of animated them: they were enchanted by melodies that now only charm the hearts of broomsticks. Elevated, however, they were by these old rugged but patriotic strains, and in a state of elevation they rushed to the poll, and did their duty as men and Britons.

But now, what with the performances at Exeter Hall and the Promenade Concerts, what with hearing _Israel in Egypt_, and _Rigoletto_, and BEETHOVEN'S _Symphony in C. Minor_, and MOZART'S _Requiem_, and _Pop goes the Weasel_, the public ear has got educated, and looks down--if an ear can look, as perhaps it can in a state of clairvoyance--on a perambulatory orchestra of free and independent Britons: independent chiefly in their playing.

What then? Abolish election music? Do away with a great institution because it has been inefficiently carried out? No; to be sure. Improve it, in accordance with the requirements of the age. Don't put down election bands; but give them better music to play; not, COLONEL, that I shall contradict you if you say that there can be none better than _The Roast Beef_, &c. Have pieces composed on purpose for elections; symphonies breathing loyalty and order together with a spirit of economy and retrenchment; pastoral symphonies expressive of the feelings of the agricultural interests; marches infusing into the minds of voters courage to resist attempts at intimidation: overtures of a lofty character, different from COPPOCK'S. At Lincoln, where you could have it all your own way, you might cause to be performed music descriptive of dislike of the Whigs, and of want of confidence in HER MAJESTY'S Government. There are, doubtless, musical effects representative of all human emotions; disgust, even, at the recollection of the Crystal Palace.

To prevent Ministerial jobbery, let the candidates have to find the music; composers as well as executants; base is the slave who cannot pay his expenses, and something more: like a gentleman, like yourself, and like

PUNCH.

P.S. Solos to the tune of £. _s._ _d._ to be performed by any candidates who choose, as they have a right, to do what they like with their own. The _Rogue's March_ would be an appropriate air to celebrate the next return of the Noble Lord the Member for London. Eh?

* * * * *

"SURE DERBYITES."

(_As Sung by_ Sir JOHN PAKINGTON _at St. Stephen's Theatre in the new Musical Comedy of the Successions' Tax_.)

Sure Derbyites were born to sorrow, Kicked out to-day, and mocked to-morrow; By Dizzy I'm snubbed, and by COBDEN I'm rated, Ne'er was Chairman of Quarter Sessions so sittivated. There's GLADSTONE swears the squires shan't trick him, And vote as they may, it seems they can't lick him. Their Taxation Area he enlarges, And a Succession Tax on real property charges. Oh! lackaday, Pity JOHNNY, lackaday!

I denounced the bill in a voice of thunder, And a House of fifty Members as "FRAUD and PLUNDER:" But they only grinned at my desperation And my lack of all "_powers of ratiocination_." That GLADSTONE he has quite undone me; Like any bashaw looks down upon me, When I kneels to ax for the squires some mercy, It does no good--but vice varsey. Oh! lackaday, Pity JOHNNY, lackaday! [_Exit L._

* * * * *

HOPING AGAINST HOPE.--Taking a ticket in a Betting-Office.

* * * * *

INFINITESIMAL LOGIC.

We agree with PROFESSOR FARADAY that there is something very startling in the condition of the public mind in regard to scientific reasoning. Here is a specimen--if correctly reported--of the ratiocination of a British Legislator, and a gentleman of more than average education, moreover, a polemic of considerable celebrity; relative to a simple question of evidence. At a recent meeting of the "English Homoeopathic Association," according to the _Morning Post_:--

"MR. MIALL, M.P., moved the adoption of the report, and stated that he had become a convert to the truth of the principles of Homoeopathy from seeing their effects as regarded a relative--though, thanks to the goodness of Providence, he had no personal experience of them."

To any one possessed of common understanding and decent information, who is accustomed to exercise the least caution in drawing inferences, who has the slightest glimmering of an idea of the nature of inductive proof, who does not, in short, jump to his conclusions like a kangaroo, it is truly marvellous that any sane human mind should be capable of such a generalization as the above. MR. MIALL says that he became "a convert to the principles of Homoeopathy"--whence? From carefully sifting an accumulation of evidence, patiently comparing and analysing hosts of facts? No; but "from seeing their effects as regarded a relative."

This is just the mental process by which an old woman arrives at a faith in HOLLOWAY'S or MORISON'S PILLS.

Observe, too, that the thing which MR. MIALL is persuaded of with such facility, is one which is, so far from being in itself likely, anteriorly improbable in the very highest degree, and, indeed, ridiculously absurd on the first face of it.

It is curious how nonsensically men, otherwise intelligent, will argue whenever they meddle with a question relative to medicine. A man is reckoned a fool for talking about any other subject which he does not understand; but it seems to be assumed that there is a specialty in medical matters, which admits of sound opinions being formed respecting them by people who are entirely ignorant of them.

MR. MIALL, however, uses a correct expression when he calls himself a "convert" to Homoeopathy. Science has no "converts." Scientific truths are either self-evident or demonstrable. Philosophical systems are not "denominations" or "persuasions." It is systems of another kind that exercise faith--such faith as Mr. MIALL appears to repose in Homoeopathy.

To medical nonconformity, however, let MR. MIALL be welcome, if he will only suffer nonconformity of another kind to constitute him no obstacle to that "secular" education which is so needful a preservative against all manner of humbug.

We say Amen to Mr. MIALL'S thanksgiving for never having experienced the effects of Homoeopathy in his own person; that is to say, never having experienced the effects of a serious illness unchecked by the quackery resorted to for its cure.

* * * * *

A HELP TO JEWISH EMANCIPATION.

The Jews are excluded from Parliament by bigotry--but not merely by the bigotry of the House of Peers.

Facts are stubborn things; they are also bigoted things: at least Matter-of-fact exhibits a remarkable bigotry in regard to the Jews.

Last week, in the law reports, appeared the old story of the plucked pigeon; dissipation, horse-dealing, bill-discounting, cheating, and rascality. Bigoted Matter-of-fact, as usual, exhibited the scoundrel of the tale as a gentleman of the Hebrew persuasion.

How is it, that if there is any villany, if there is any wickedness of a particularly dirty sort; a case of bill-stealing, receipt of stolen goods, fraudulent gambling, marine store-shop, or other disreputable establishment, the party chiefly implicated is sure, in the great majority of instances, to be a gentleman rejoicing in the name, slightly corrupted, of one of the prophets or patriarchs? For so it is, according to bigoted Matter-of-fact.

While so much bigotry exists, a corresponding amount of prejudice must also exist, tending to obstruct the entrance of Israelites into the House of Commons. For if the bigot Matter-of-fact's assertion, that in nine cases out of ten a bill discounter, low-hell-keeper, fence, or other trader in wickedness, is a Jew, be believed, then the supposition that it is ten to one that a Jew is a rogue, is not very unreasonable.

Now the Jewish community is not numerous and poor, but just the reverse; and its chiefs are wallowing in riches. Would they not take the most effectual means of getting their disabilities removed, if, by diffusing education throughout their body, they could manage to abate that bigotry of Matter-of-fact which ascribes to it so large a portion of discreditable members?

* * * * *

TO PROFESSOR FARADAY.

ON HIS ASTONISHMENT AT THE EXTENT OF POPULAR DELUSION WHICH HAS BEEN DISCLOSED BY "TABLE-TURNING."

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Much as you've discovered touching chemic laws and powers, Strange, that you should, till now, never have discovered how Many foolish dunces there are in this world of ours! Nature's veracity, whilst with perspicacity, Vigilantly, carefully, you labour to educe, Little do you suspect how extremely incorrect Common observation is, and common sense how loose.

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Did you of enlightenment consider this an age? Bless your simplicity, deep in electricity. But, in social matters, unsophisticated sage! Weak Superstition dead; knocked safely on the head, Long since buried deeper than the bed of the Red Sea, Did you not fondly fancy? Did you think that necromancy Practised now at the expense of any fool could be?

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Persons not uneducated--very highly dressed Fine folks as peer and peeress, go and fee a Yankee seeress, To evoke their dead relations' Spirits from their rest. Also seek cunning men, feigning, by mesmeric ken, Missing property to trace and indicate the thief, Cure ailments, give predictions: all of these enormous fictions Are, among our higher classes, matters of belief.

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Past, you probably supposed the days of DR. DEE, Up turned his Crystal, though, but a little while ago, Full of magic visions for genteel small boys to see. Talk of gentility! see what gullibility Fashionable dupes of homoeopathy betray, Who smallest globules cram with the very biggest flam, Swallowing both together in the most prodigious way.

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Men of learning, who, at least, should better know, you'd think, Credit a pack of odd tales of images that nod, Openly profess belief that certain pictures wink, That saints have sailed on cloaks, and without the slightest hoax, In the dark, by miracle, not like stale fish, did shine, Nor phosphorus, that slowly, might, in personages holy-- As in others, possibly, with oxygen combine.

Oh, MR. FARADAY, simple MR. FARADAY! Guided by the steady light which mighty Bacon lit, You naturally stare, seeing that so many are Following whither fraudulent Jack-with-the-Lanterns flit. Of scientific lore, though you have an ample store, Gotten by experiments, in one respect you lack; Society's weak side, whereupon you none have tried, Being all Philosopher and nothing of a Quack.

* * * * *

A PHRENOLOGICAL PUZZLE.

We are continually hearing of some individual or other who is remarkable for what is called an "Enlarged Benevolence." We wish MR. DONOVAN would explain to us the meaning of this phrase, for though we sometimes hear of an enlargement of the heart, or of a newspaper having been "permanently enlarged," we are puzzled to understand how there can be an enlargement of an individual's benevolence.

* * * * *

THE JOKE OF THE SESSION.

One great cause of the heaviness of Parliamentary debates is the jokes with which they are interspersed, although these are not numerous. A speech may contain but a single joke; but that one joke, or attempt at joking, is such as to give a weight to the whole discourse which it would not derive from the arguments advanced in it. To quote a House of Commons' witticism is generally to quote JOE MILLER, whom Honourable Gentlemen seem to cram in order to amuse, as they cram ADAM SMITH with a view to instruct one another. Their jokes, like a very different kind of things, Chancery decisions, are warranted by precedent. Liberals though some of them may be in earnest, they are all Tories in fun. _Stare super antiques jocos_ is the motto of the extremest Radicals among them. The boldest innovators of the Manchester School show a veneration for antiquity as far as that goes. When the cellars of the House of Commons are searched for GUY FAWKES, it is wonderful that no explosive matter is found in them; no jokes in bottles, laid down many years ago, full of beeswing, so to speak; old and dry. The foregoing reflections were suggested by a report, in the Parliamentary intelligence, of the most brilliant joke that has for a long time, as a gentleman in the Brigade might say, shaken the walls of St. Stephen's. This highly successful sally was made in Committee on the Expenses of Elections' Bill by

"MR. ELLIOTT, the Member for Roxburghshire, who expressed anxiety to know, as the clauses prohibited persons playing, whether in future any of his constituents would be fined for playing the Scotch fiddle?"

If this pun is not very witty, at least it savours of the quality nearest allied to wit. MR. ELLIOTT'S humorous question, moreover, is no unmeaning joke. It expresses a feeling probably very general among his constituents, who, we trust, will not, by any ungenerous legislation, be deprived of that relief, under circumstances of suffering, which they have always enjoyed under the ancient Scottish constitution.

* * * * *

PAPA TO HIS HEIR.

A FAST MINOR.

My son, a father's warning heed; I think my end is nigh: And then, you dog, you will succeed Unto my property.

But, seeing you are not, just yet, Arrived at man's estate, Before you full possession get, You'll have a while to wait.

A large allowance I allot You during that delay; And I don't recommend you not To throw it all away.

To such advice you'd ne'er attend; You won't let prudence rule Your courses; but, I know, will spend Your money like a fool.

I do not ask you to eschew The paths of vice and sin; You'll do as all young boobies, who Are left, as you say, tin.

You'll sot, you'll bet; and being green, At all that's right you'll joke; Your life will be a constant scene Of billiards and of smoke.

With bad companions you'll consort, With creatures vile and base, Who'll rob you; yours will be, in short, The puppy's common case.

But oh, my son! although you must Through this ordeal pass, You will not be, I hope--I trust-- A wholly senseless ass.

Of course, at prudence you will sneer, On that theme I won't harp; Be good, I won't say--that's severe; But be a little sharp.

All rascally associates shun To bid you were too much, But oh! beware, my spooney son Beware one kind of such.

It asks no penetrative mind To know these fellows: when You meet them, you, unless you're blind. At once discern the men.

The turgid lip, the piggish eye, The nose in form of hook, The rings, the pins, you tell them by, The vulgar flashy look.

Spend every sixpence, if you please, But do not, I implore, Oh! do not go, my son, to these Vultures to borrow more.

Live at a foolish wicked rate, My hopeful, if you choose, But don't your means anticipate Through bill-discounting Jews.

* * * * *

LAW ON ITS LAST LEGS.

Of all the indignities to which the legal profession has been exposed, we know of nothing to equal the insult just passed upon it by the parish authorities of St. James's, Westminster, who have advertised for a first-rate lawyer to fill the place of Parochial Messenger. Our assertion might appear incredible, were it not sustained by the following extract from one of the _Times'_ Supplements:--

PAROCHIAL MESSENGER.--St. James's, Westminster--WANTED, by the Governors and Directors of the Poor, a respectable PERSON, of active habits, to fill the above situation. He must be thoroughly acquainted with the Law of Settlement, the practice at sessions relating to appeals, and with parish business generally concerning the poor. The duties and salary annexed to the appointment may be ascertained at my office, No. 50, Poland Street, Oxford Street, daily, between 9 and 6 o'clock; where also applications, accompanied by testimonials of character and ability, are to be left on or before Thursday, the 14th instant.

By order,

GEORGE BUZZARD, Clerk.

Now every lawyer is perfectly aware that the law of settlement is a subject so abstruse and difficult that a "thorough acquaintance" with it can only be derived from years of study and practice at the Bar; and it is, therefore, quite evident that the Guardians of the Poor of St. James's, Westminster, expect one of the ablest Sessions barristers that can be found to undertake the place of messenger. We will admit that business has sadly fallen off, but we are not yet prepared to believe that our BODKINS and our BALLANTINES, or even our HORRIDS and our FLORIDS, will yet be content to undertake the task of running on parochial errands, and delivering parochial messages. We shall, however, not be surprised at finding a forensic sergeant advertised for as a sergeant of police, because it is necessary the latter should know the law; but we hope it will be long before our WILKINSES cease to ornament our Bar by their splendid talents, and begin to exchange the coif for the cape, or the big wig for the baton.

* * * * *

_TO CORRESPONDENTS._

SUNDAY AT BLACKWALL--_Mr. Punch_ would be glad to know where a letter would find you.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THEOLOGICAL TANNING.

Bermondsey is a great place for tanners. According to the REV. DR. ARMSTRONG, the incumbent of St. Paul's in that district, the converts to Protestantism from Popery therein residing get thrashed by their quondam co-religionists. Is it the _genius loci_ or the genius of Roman Catholicism that suggests this tanning of the hides of heretics? which, one would think, if it cured their skins, would scarcely heal their souls, and instead of re-converting them to Romanism would only convert them to leather.

* * * * *

PROSPECT IN FOREIGN POLITICS.--When Austria and Russia fall out, KOSSUTH and MAZZINI will come by their own.

* * * * *

QUERY FOR TABLE-TURNERS.--Have you ever turned a square table round?

* * * * *

* * * * *

UNCLE TOM'S POLLING BOOTH.

The dashing Protestant candidate for Sligo in his address advised his intended constituents to beware of the "priestly LEGREES who seek to reduce them to political UNCLETOMITUDE." We should say that he--but, on second thoughts, we scorn to put two good things into the same paragraph.

* * * * *

LITTLE CRY AND GREAT WOOL.

One of the daily journals constantly warns the present age against its tendency to succumb to the Lawyers, and "the legal mind." But the mammas and nurses of England are beforehand with the journalist. Nearly the first lesson and warning a child receives is, "Bar, Bar--Black Sheep."

* * * * *

AN ACHING VOID.--A hollow tooth.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE RE-CHRISTENING OF THE BOSPHORUS.

Not the less apart for ever, Europe's coast, and Asia's shore, Though two continents to sever, Scarce a mile of sea doth roar; Though, whene'er that ocean-music Sinks upon the summer air. You may near Sultanieh's bulbuls Answering those of Buyukdère.

To that belt of rolling water, In the early Grecian age, Came the Argive king's fair daughter Fleeing JUNO'S jealous rage. ZEUS had wrought the maid dishonour; And to hide her from his spouse, Working foul defeature on her, Changed her fair form to a cow's.

But the lynx-eyed wife discovering What the heifer's form concealed, As a gad-fly quickly hovering, Stung her rival from the field; Driving on that hapless maiden-- Mad with pain and flecked with gore-- Till she staggered, sorrow-laden, To the far Propontid shore.

Pausing there, perforce, to breathe her, Faint, and frenzied, and foredone, She beheld the sea beneath her Basking lucid in the sun. In she dashed--the grateful chillness Brought assuagement to her pain, Gave her throbbing pulses stillness, Calmed the fever of her brain.

JUNO then her chase arrested, And the gad-fly stung no more; On swam IO, unmolested, Till she reached the Asian shore, Hence that strait, the poets tell us, Took the name it bears till now, "Bosporus," in tongue of Hellas, Meaning "Passage of the Cow."

Age on age has since passed over Those wild waters in their flow-- They have seen the Carian rover, Seeking wealth with sling and bow-- Seen the sun in his meridian Glinted back from countless arms, When to Greece the turbaned Median Led his hosts, like locust-swarms.

For the lordship of that region Every race hath drawn the sword-- Grecian phalanx, Roman legion, Norse Vikinger, Vandal horde. Still, through all, that strait retaineth Its old name in Hellas' song; "Bosporus" it still remaineth, "Bosporus" it shall be long.

But from this our day the meaning Of the word we cast anew, Now that Russia's Czar o'erweening, His war-vultures doth unmew. Onward like a base marauder Threatening force, when foiled in sleight, He hath crossed the Turkish border In contempt of law and right.

While the Turk, in force unequal, But with heart that scorns to flee, Dauntlessly awaits the sequel Of the war, if war must be. Of the West he claims alliance; France and England meet the call, And their flags in proud defiance Soon may float by Stamboul's wall.

In the outraged cause of nations, Turk and Christian will be one; When the fleets are at their stations-- Every man beside his gun. But our place must be the vanward, Other leading brook not we-- Bearing England's banner onward, The BRITANNIA cleaves the sea.

When defiant but unvaunting-- Hull by hull, slow surging on-- Tricolor and red cross flaunting, Euxine-wards the fleet hath gone. Bosporus! thine ancient glory, This thy new renown shall dull; "Passage of the Cow," in story, Changing to "Passage of JOHN BULL."

* * * * *

A DAUGHTER OF THE CAMP.

MISS CAROLINE _to her brother, student at Haileybury College_.

"MY DEAR HENRY,

"Mamma and Papa desire me to say that they were very much gratified at reading that you acquitted yourself so well at the examination, and Papa has given me a cheque to enclose which, I dare say, you horrid creature, will make your sister's letter less of a 'baw' than usual. I sincerely hope that you will profit by the address of that dear old white-headed SIR JAMES, and learn to be "considerate of the feelings and wishes of those around you;" that is, that you will not grumble in the holidays at having to take JULIA and me to the Opera, or insist on smoking in your bedroom when you know that the smoke comes under MARIA'S door. However, I won't scold you as you have been such a good boy at school--bless me, College, I mean; ten millions of pardons, I'm sure.

"On Monday we all went to the Camp at Chobham, choosing the day quite accidentally, but so fortunately. The next morning while I was cutting the _Times_ for Papa, I was greatly delighted to read this:--

"'The ladies especially showed a surprising knowledge and appreciation of the manoeuvres performed. Should our brave defenders ever be called upon to protect our homes and altars, regiments such as those now at Chobham will not, despite the Peace Society, want Daughters--though in these piping times they have none.'"

As to the last part, if one could hope to equal that dear divine JENNY LIND in _La Figlia_, one would almost not mind wearing the odious costume, though of all the ungraceful--but what do you boys know about such things? I want to assure you that the first part of the story is quite true, and shows that the clever gentleman who wrote it sets more value on the opinion of young ladies than _some_ young gentlemen do whom I _could_ name, but will _not_. Now, as an account of what we saw must be useful to you in your studies (though you are _only_ in the Civil Service), I will tell you a little about it, and Papa says you are to send him a comparison between the battle of Cannæ (is that spelt right?) and the battle of Curley.

"We got a capital place for seeing, and we had not been on the ground many minutes before some one blew a horn, and out ran numbers of those large green beetles of Riflemen, and began to pretend to skirmish; but, as there was nobody to face them, they looked great sillies. But presently there was a heavy tramping, and on came the Guards, looking perfectly _splendid_, and ran up a hill. But I should tell you that on the top of this hill were some Sappers and Miners (it seemed an odd place to put them), and some soldiers with short guns, and when the Guards had gone a little way up the hill, the others let off their guns at them. Then the Guards pretended they could not advance any higher, so the great cannons were set roaring off, and I thought I should never get the throbbing out of my ears. Well, I suppose this encouraged the Guards, for they made another rush; and, at the same time, the Household Troops and the Light Dragoons went galloping and tearing in the same direction, and looking as if they could ride over _everything in the world_. However, they didn't, for it seems that it was necessary to fire more cannons, only this time it was the Horse Artillery. After this there was great confusion, and I do not believe that _anybody_ knew what he was to do; however, they all got upon the hill, and their swords and helmets sparkled beautifully in the sunshine. Lastly, those Highlanders, with the legs, made a long line, and then gave way for the others to come through it, like the opening figure in the First Set, and the green beetles began popping again, and the cannons were let off once more. Then they all went off the ground, and we had a dreadful to-do with a gipsy baby, which JULIA had foolishly taken to hold; and the mother went away, leaving the brown little creature with us, and could not be found until long after we were ready to go. JAMES said that if we left it on the grass it would be all safe; but this we would not hear of. The poor child would have been the better for the tub you used to hate so a few years ago when _Mr._ HENRY was only _Master_.

"Now, you are to say whether this was like the battle of Cannæ--I don't mean as to the baby, of course. And, if you will take my opinion, the evolutions were all nonsense. I do not see the use of cannon at all, and I am quite certain that, if the Guards rushed at an enemy as they ran up that hill at first, the enemy would run away at once. Also I think the cavalry and the infantry ought to be mixed up together, because then the soldiers on horseback could protect the others, and change with them when the poor men on foot were tired. Besides those dear horses never kick, so it would be quite safe; a soldier told me that, as I was giving his lovely black horse a sponge cake which he eat out of my hand. I think that if you gave this idea to the masters at your school--College, I mean--you would be thought very clever. But decidedly I do not like the cannons, and I am _certain_ they are of no use.

"You are to write directly to say that the cheque is all safe, and everybody unites in love. FAN'S guinea-pig is dead. Baby has had the measles, like the PRINCE OF WALES. Can you polk better than you did? What is good for my canary while it is moulting? Do not forget about Cannæ, and if I have spelt it wrong take no notice to papa.

"Your ever affectionate sister,

"CAROLINE BERTHA LOUISA.

"P.S.--Your flirt, MARION WATERS, is going to be married. Hee, hee, hee!!!"

* * * * *

UNPUBLISHED ANECDOTE.

TALLEYRAND, talking of a man, who dealt in nothing but quotations, said, "That fellow has a mind of inverted commas."

* * * * *

THE NEW CAB ACT.

Though on the principle of "Hear both sides," we have no objection to allow even the hoarse voice of a cab-driver to address itself to the polite ears of the public on the great question of Cab Reform, we must protest against many, if not all, of the positions taken up and set down by the editor of the New Hackney Carriage Act, in the following edition of that useful measure. We have not taken the trouble to answer the arguments of the unlearned annotator, inasmuch as we feel it to be quite unnecessary; for every one will see at a glance what the cabman is driving at.

THE NEW HACKNEY CARRIAGE BILL,

EDITED BY A CABMAN.

This here measure sets out at a sort of full gallop, which is nothing more nor less than furious driving against us poor cabmen, by saying that it is "Enacted by the QUEEN'S most Excellent Majesty,"--which I don't deny that she is--and "with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual"--(them's the bishops: which I should like to know who ever seed a bishop in a cab, or on a 'bus, and therefore what have they to do with it?). The Act has twenty-two clauses; and every clause is intended to stick it into us. I shall take them clauses one by one, and if I use a little more license than the Commissioners like, they must recollect they makes us pay precious dear for our license, so we may as well have our say for our money.

1. Everybody who wants a license must apply in writing; so, if a poor unfortnate feller can't comply with the letter of the law by writing a letter which he never learnt to do, he must take to thieving, or something else, for he mustn't keep no cab, nor nothing.

2. The Commissioners is to have power to inspect your wehicles and your cattle whenever they like, so that when your 'bus is full and your passengers in a hurry to go by the train, you may all be pulled up while SIR RICHARD turns over the cushions, and sees if you've got any broken windows in your 'bus, or any broken winder drawin' of it. Of course nothin' will be good enough, unless we have velvet hottermans to keep the insides warm, and downy cushions for the outsides, as if we wasn't downy enough already. As to the horses, I don't know where we are to get 'em good enough. Praps they'll expect us to buy all the Derby winners and them sort of cattle to do our opposition work with. But I suppose there'll be a grant of money next year from the public purse, for private speckelation won't make it pay anyhow.

3. Purwides that, if we don't keep hansom private carriages for the public, and first-rate cattle to draw four on 'em about at three-halfpence a mile a-piece, we are to be fined three pounds a day, and go to prison a month for every day; so that, if we've done it for a whole year, we may be fined upards of a thousand pound, and be locked up for about five-and-thirty years. Consekwently three years would give us a hundred and five years imprisonment.

4. This takes all the crummy part of the bread out of our mouths by reducing our fares to sixpence a mile, which it used to be eightpence, which meant a shilling. Never mind! We'll get it out of 'em somehow, for we may charge twopence a package for luggage that won't go inside the cab; and we'll take care nothin' shall go in, for we'll have the doors so narrow that we can't be made to open our doors to imposition.

5. By this they compel us to have the fares painted up, and to carry a book of fares. What right have we to turn our cabs into a library or bookcase? When we make a mistake about a fare they always tell us we "ought to know the law." Why ought we to know it better than them as hires us? Let them carry books themselves. We've got enough to do to carry them.

6. In case of disputes the Police is to have it all their own way, for what they says is law, and what we says is nothin'.

7, 8, and 9. Compel us to go with anybody anywhere; give him a ticket with our number on--as if he couldn't use his eyes--and carry as many as our license says--though, sometimes, one fat rider would make three; so that if we get four such customers we shall as good as carry a dozen.

10. This is the unkindest cut of all, for it says we shall carry a "reasonable quantity of luggage." Why, with the women, there's no end to what they call a "reasonable quantity of luggage." I wish the Parlyment would have just settled that for us; for, if four females is going off to a train to spend a month at the sea-side, who is to say what will be a "reasonable quantity" of bonnet-boxes, carpet-bags, pet dogs, and bird-cages, that each on 'em may want to carry?

11. This makes us pay for other people's carelessness; for if anybody goes and leaves anything in any of our cabs, we mustn't earn another sixpence by taking another fare, but we must drive off in search of a police-station; and how, in our innocence, are we to know where to look for such places? If we don't, we must pay ten pounds penalty or stay a month in prison.

12 and 13. Purwides for turning adrift all the poor old watermen, and for putting Peelers in their stead. Praps they'll get a new Act next year to make us keep all the poor old coves that are cut out of the bread they used to get by giving us our water on the Cab Stands.

14. Says we shall have a lamp burning inside. Who's to trim it, I should like to know?

15, 16. As if we wasn't pitched into enough by redoosin our fares! We ain't to stand a chance of getting an odd sixpence out of NICHOLS or MOSES, or the Nutty Sherry, or any of them dodges, that used to advertise in our vehicles. There's nothin' said again the Railway people a doin' it. But Guvament is evidently afeard of them Railway chaps, so they are to go on doin' as they like with the public; and the public's to do as they like with us by way of recompense.

17. This says over agen what's been said already about reasonable luggage; and then says further, that we shall drive at least six miles an hour. I should like to see one on 'em who made the law drivin' six mile an hour down Cheapside, at four o'clock in the afternoon. But we must do it, or pay forty shillins, or go to prison for a month, if we like that better.

18. According to this claws if any feller wants to cheat us, or gets up a dispute with us, though he's in the wrong, and we right, we must drive the gentleman in our own carriage to the nearest police court. This ought to be good on both sides anyhow. And if we are in the right the law ought to be that the gent who made us drive him should be obliged to order out his own carriage, if he's got one--and be made to hire one if he hasn't--to drive us home again.

19. As if there warn't penalties enough, this claws throws a penalty of forty shillin or a month's imprisonment in, for anything in general, or nothin particular, at the hoption of the magistrate.

20, 21, 22. These three last clawses says nothin, and so there's nothin to say about 'em, unless to notice the stoopidity of sayin' that this Act and two others shall be read as one, as if anybody could read three Acts of Parlyment at a time, and think he is only readin' one--but it's just like 'em.

* * * * *

CHAGRIN FOR OLD COMMODORES.

A recent leading article in the _Times_ quotes a return, which has been obtained by MR. HUME, of certain statistics relative to flogging in the Navy; whence it appears that the amount of human torture inflicted on British sailors, represented in the aggregate by 40,545 lashes during the year 1848, had declined in 1852 to 17,571. In commenting on this decrease in the torment of seamen, the _Times_ remarks, that this "odious species of punishment is falling more and more into disuse;" and, moreover, that

"Anything like a frequent resort to it is taken to reflect discredit, not only upon the whole ship's company, but upon the officers in command."

If a return could be procured of the number of imprecations uttered on reading the above passage, by bluff old retired admirals and superannuated sea-captains, in clubs and coffee-rooms at our various sea-ports, where they are accustomed to growl over the degeneracy of the service, we should probably be presented with a startling array of figures. By the stigma which is cast upon the discipline which these veterans, for the most part, boast of having maintained, their feelings must be as cruelly lacerated as they themselves ever caused the backs of their men to be.

* * * * *

POISONOUS PUFFS.

Something has been done, of late, towards the abatement of nuisances. Cinder-heaps have been swept away, sewers trapped, cesspools closed, and laystalls removed from under our noses. There still remains, however, a great deal of noxious and offensive stuff to be got rid of; particularly since, instead of merely contaminating our air and water, it infects the fountains of our current information. It taints the library, it defiles the drawing-room table. This graveolent evil is the pest of soiled newspapers--journals of ill savour--not imparted by any fetid sort of printers' ink, but by vile advertisements, whereat the physical nostrils, indeed, are not offended: but the moral nose is in great indignation.

An obscure and narrow street through which few respectable persons, and no ladies, ever pass, bears a scandalous name, and is considered a disgrace to the metropolis, by reason of the sort of literature displayed in its windows, which is precisely of the same quality as the advertisements alluded to; and these, in the columns of reputable and even "serious" journals, get introduced into families, and lie about the house, to attract the notice, and obtain the perusal, of the younger members of the establishment, male and female.

You may take up--or what is of more consequence--your little boy or girl may take up--a newspaper, and read, on one side of it, a leading article which might be preached out of a pulpit: on the other a series of turpitudes unfit for utterance under any circumstances.

These atrocities are heightened to the point of perfection by the circumstance that they are the puffs of a set of rascally quacks, not the least mischievous of whose suggestions are the recommendations of their own medicines--poison for the body which they vend to simpletons, whilst they disseminate mental poison gratis, both in the advertisements themselves, and in books which form the subject of them, in addition to the other poison.

As the newspaper-proprietors whose journals are sullied by these putrescences may be of opinion that the odour of gain, from whatever source derived, is agreeable, and, therefore, preserve them as rather fragrant than otherwise, the following exhortation has been addressed to their customers:--

"It rests with you--with you alone, newspaper readers, to stop the torrent. And you can do it, without expense, and with but little self-denial. Let each individual that receives this appeal write without delay to the editor of the paper he reads, whenever he sees it defiled by one of these easily-recognised advertisements, and say that, unless its insertion is discontinued, he cannot, in conscience, any longer patronise the publication. Whatever your station may be, you can do something; and the higher it is, the greater is your influence and responsibility. On country gentlemen rests mainly the persistence of the evil in provincial papers; they can, and we trust they will stop it. Let, too, each one of you that are advertisers, be you publishers, men of business, authors, masters seeking servants, or servants seeking masters, refuse to appear any more in such company, and let it be known at the newspaper office why you withhold your patronage."

The above paragraph is extracted from the prospectus of a society which has been formed for the special purpose of suppressing this villanous pufferty. The association is entitled "The Union for Discouragement of Vicious Advertisements;" and we hope it will succeed in closing a channel of communication which has all the qualities, except the utility, of a gutter.

* * * * *

THE ECCLESIASTICAL AUCTION MART.

"DEAR PUNCH,

Going the other day into an auction-room in a large commercial town, with the view of purchasing a small fancy business, I found that having already disposed of it, and of a cheesemonger's good-will and stock, the auctioneer was endeavouring to sell a _church_, on whose merits he was expatiating much in the following terms:--

"Come, Gentlemen, pray give attention To the Lot I'm now going to sell; For it don't want a poet's invention Its manifold merits to tell. If a gift, or of praying or preaching, In any one present has shone, He may further exemplify each in The church, _now put up_, of St. John.

It is not some old weather-worn building, Clad with ivy, and mouldering and grey, But as fresh as paint, varnish, and gilding Could make it, 'twas made 't other day; And if any, who hear me, are pinning Their faith some one order upon, I can tell them they'll find a beginning Of all orders and styles, at St. John.

"It is held of the Town Corporation For a term, at a peppercorn rent, And will surely reward speculation To the tune of some fifty per cent. The fixtures are mats, stools, and hassocks, And (as second-hand garments to don Is the fashion with curates) the cassocks Of the late worthy priest of St. John.

"If the sittings (not counting the free seats Which are placed in the draught near the door), Be computed, I think there must _be_ seats For nine hundred pew-renters or more; Then the district quite swarms with young ladies, And the tenant who's recently gone, From the slippers they worked him, quite paid his Clerk, sexton, and choir of St. John.

By the bishop its licence was granted; But the owners no bid will reject-- As the cash is immediately wanted-- From any persuasion or sect. There, the Jumper may practise gymnastics; There the Ranter's glib tongue may run on; Turks or Hindoos, or Buddhists, or Aztecs, May use, if they pay for, St. John.

Ha! a Thousand! a Rapper then offers; Fifteen hundred! the Mormons exclaim. Come, Gentlemen, open your coffers, For your biddings are terribly tame. Two thousand! Not half enough! Yet it Must go to the Rappers; Going! Gone! The key's with the sexton, Sir; get it, And yours is the church of St. John."

* * * * *

OUR METEOROLOGICAL REPORT.

The public is much indebted to a gentleman named LOWE, who lives at Bermondsey, and writes every day to the _Times_, to inform the world which way the wind blew on the preceding day, how much rain fell late in the evening, what amount of cloud was floating about at a particular hour of the day, and other equally interesting particulars. On Tuesday this gentleman reports his detection of some "cirri," and he kindly writes to the _Times_ to give the world the benefit of the discovery.

Anxious to make ourselves generally useful, we have attempted a few meteorological observations on our own account, and the following is the report we have to offer:--

Barometer fell--to the ground and smashed.

Thermometer rose to blood heat--having been turned upside down by an infant.

Direction of wind--right in our own face.

Amount of rain--.001 in. in our umbrella stand.

Amount of cloud--9 from our own tobacco-pipe. Should our scientific observations as recorded above tend to throw any light upon anything, we are more than satisfied.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A BIG BROTHER OF MERCY.

Besides the Plymouth Brethren, there are the Plymouth Sisters, called Sisters of Mercy. These ladies, however, appear to stand in the relationship of Sister to something else than Mercy; to Choler, we may say, and Choler unbridled, so to speak, and rather asinine.

The _Morning Post_ published the other day a correspondence between a MR. J. D. CHAMBERS and MR. PHINN, M.P., which will probably be considered to supply the foregoing remark with some foundation.

There is, it appears, among the Sisters of Mercy, a lady who is also the sister of MR. CHAMBERS. On her behalf MR. CHAMBERS writes a letter to MR. PHINN, to demand whether he, in his place in Parliament, made certain statements respecting the community to which she belongs, imputing to them systematic fraud and hypocrisy, and the endeavour to convert their institution into a Roman Catholic nunnery.

MR. PHINN replies that he might decline to answer MR. CHAMBERS, on the ground of privilege, as well as on that of the intemperance and want of courtesy displayed in MR. CHAMBERS'S letter--which rights, however, he waives; says that he cannot reconcile newspaper reports of his words, nor exactly remember those which he used; but denies that his language, as reported by any of the papers, conveys the imputations alluded to by MR. CHAMBERS, or that he made odious and unsupported accusations of fraud and dishonesty against the ladies in question.

MR. PHINN then proceeds to remind his peppery correspondent that the late QUEEN DOWAGER felt it her duty, after strict investigation, to withdraw her support from the Society, on the ground that its doctrines were at variance with those of the Established Church.

To this reply MR. CHAMBERS rejoins, reiterating his statements as to the imputation of fraud and duplicity, and concluding in the following polite terms:--

"My duty, therefore, as her (his sister's) protector, is simply to tell you, in plain words, that as such your accusations are false."

Everybody, of course, knows that the Sisters of Mercy form that celebrated community which rejoices under the superintendance of a single lady, writing herself "Y^e Mother Sup^r;" not being a mother, or even a mother-in-law, or a mother in any sense known to the law, or in any sense whatever except a Roman Catholic one.

MR. PHINN merely expresses an opinion about the Sisters of Mercy, which is entertained by most other people, saving Puseyites at a temperature of red heat. The charge against him of making false accusations is itself an accusation that is untrue.

The convent, or whatever it calls itself, of the Sisters of Mercy, is no doubt a highly respectable, though a pseudo-Roman Catholic concern. Before MR. CHAMBERS figures again as the "big brother," he should not only make sure that the honour of his relative has been impugned, but it will be well for him to consider whether he does her quasi-nunnery much good by constituting himself a bully to the establishment.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE EARL-KING;

OR, THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY AND THE JUVENILE MENDICANT.

Who lurks in the slums? Who goes ragged and wild? A villanous father and vagabond child; That urchin roams prowling, of swag in pursuit, By begging and stealing to keep the old brute.

"Oh father! oh father! that rum cove d'ye twig? He looks so hard at me--he knows I'm a Prig! To hook it, and mizzle, my best way would be." "No, stoopid, that cove ain't no crusher--not he."

"Oh father! oh father! he keeps looking here; He's coming to nab me--that 'ere blessed Peer; It is the Earl-King with his Book and his School." "No, no, 'tis some pantiler only, you fool."

"Hi! wilt thou come with me, neglected young wretch? I'll shield thee, I'll save thee, from gaol and JACK KETCH, In work and in study thy time I'll employ, And feed thee, and clothe thee, and teach thee, my boy."

"Oh father! oh father! you'd best let me go; There's the Earl-King's new Hact; and they'll take me, I know: And you'll have to fork out too, yourself, by and by." "Oh gammon, oh gammon! that 'ere's all my eye."'

"Come, come, and be taught, you young varlet, I say, Or else, silly child, I shall walk thee away." "Oh father! oh father! I know'd I was right: The Earl-King has grabbed me!--got hold of me tight."

The nice father put down his pipe and his pot, And around him, bewildered, he stared like a sot: "Hallo! you young beggar, vere are yer?" he said. But the poor boy to school with the Earl-King had fled!

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

SATURDAY, MAY 25, 18--

I cannot but confess it--I felt hurt, twitted by the easiness, the unconcern of FRED. Of course I should have thought it very foolish, nay, worse in him, to be jealous. That would have been ridiculous, unworthy of him. Nevertheless, I could not help endeavouring to place myself in his situation--to enter into the feelings of a husband, and to think myself a man!

That a letter--and such a letter--should have been sent to me, was, of course, a mistake. But, for all that--putting myself in the place of a man and a husband--for that was, of course, the most reasonable and the most natural way for a woman to come to a right conclusion--I could not have been so calm, so tranquil, I may, indeed, say--so stone-cold. Indeed, judging, moreover, from my own feelings as a woman and a wife, it would have been impossible: not that I'm of a jealous habit of mind. No, certainly; I should say, quite the reverse. Still, it is quite plain, that if we really value and love a thing--we must be anxious accordingly. _That_ is but natural. Nevertheless, I cannot disguise it from myself that FRED--even after he had handed me the letter to read, and I--all in a twitter I must say--had read it to him, did nothing but laugh. I've no doubt he was very right; and yet, if I know myself and I'd been in his place--I don't think I should have _laughed._

"Read the letter, LOTTY,"--cried FRED--"by all means read it; it may amuse us."

"To be sure," said I; "not that it can be for _me_." And then, when I opened the stupid bit of paper, it seemed to scorch my face and something came into my throat, as I began to read the ridiculous words--'_My dear and beautiful girl._'

"Must be a mistake," cried FRED: though I thought I saw him just bite his lip, and just a little wrinkle his eye brows. "But go on."

"'_I have beheld you in silent admiration; but now I feel longer silence impossible!_' I shan't read any more," said I, "for how can it concern me--I mean _us_?"

"Go on," cried FRED, hooking his fore-finger round his nose and rubbing it in his manner, when he is thinking.

'_It is plain you were intended for a brighter destiny than what has befallen you._'

"Come," said FRED in his aggravating way, "that's no compliment to me."

"To you! Then, if it comes to that," said I, "and if for a minute you think this stuff was written to me, you may read the rest yourself." And with this--with all the spirit I could--I flung the letter _at him_. Yes; at him; and as he looked up, and a little astonished, but more hurt, as I thought, opened his eyes at me--I felt myself so wrong, so rebuked, that I flung my arms about his neck, and the next snatched up the note to tear it to pieces.

"Stop, LOTTY;" cried FRED; "as it is not our property, we've no right to destroy it." And then he put the letter in his breast pocket; and, as he did so, I had a twinge of the heart, a cold chill, for all the world as though he had put a viper there.

"FRED, dear FRED," said I, and what ailed me I couldn't tell; but all I recollect was that saying or stammering, "let us go home," I fell upon his neck; and after awhile coming to myself, I found JOSEPHINE--now pale and now flustered--at my side. But still the wish was in my thoughts. "_Do_, do let us go home."

"Well, LOTTY, love; we _will_ go home. In a little while; a very little while; a day or two"--

"Now, FRED; to-day."

"Why, to-day, LOTTY, is impossible. The fact is, I expect--but never mind;" and I felt sure there was something FRED was hiding from me, something I ought to know. But before I could reply, he took his hat and left the room. I don't know what could have possessed me; but, for the minute, I felt alone--all alone in the world; and the next, such a newer, deeper love--I had thought it impossible to be so--for FREDERICK; and then--but JOSEPHINE was present, looking so curiously at me, that I was directly called to myself.

"You'd never think of going home, Ma'am, without a peep at France?" said JOSEPHINE.

"What I think can in no way concern you," I replied very freezingly; for, somehow, I could not _quite_ understand JOSEPHINE'S looks.

"Certainly not, Ma'am; only to be so near France, and not to cross, what would people say? And lace I'm told so cheap there! Not that I wish to go myself. Certainly not. Oh dear no. Old England for me. I'm sure I can stay here till you come back with the greatest pleasure in--no, not exactly that: still, Ma'am, I _can_ stay."

And the more she talked, and the more I looked at her, the more she seemed in a sort of pucker and flurry that--I'm not suspicious: still, it did appear mysterious.

"I shall not go to France. We shall return straight home, and you may, or may not--just as you please, JOSEPHINE, so make it entirely agreeable to yourself--go back with us, or stay here alone." And with this, I left the room to join FRED; and he--I discovered to my great annoyance--had gone out. Gone out! It was very odd.

I couldn't rest indoors. So, without a word to JOSEPHINE, I put on my things--snatched them on I should rather say--and followed FRED. Up and down the beach--but no signs of him. Where _could_ he be?

As the time went on, and I continued to look for and expect him, I could scarcely contain myself. I sat down upon the beach; and the sun, setting, looked so magnificent. I tried to calm and comfort myself, making out a home in the clouds. Such a home! With such gardens and golden plains and palaces of ruby pillars--but no; it wouldn't do. And I felt all the angrier that I had so tried to cheat myself.

At the moment, who should glide past me--not seeing me, as I thought--but the very gypsey child who had brought that foolish bouquet, and that stupid note!

I resolved, taking a minute's counsel with myself, to discover the individual who had employed the gypsey; so followed the child, who suddenly seemed to guess my determination. "Want a nosegay, Ma'am?" said the girl. "Buy a nosegay to get me a bit of bread."

"Now, if I buy this nosegay"--and the little creature looked at me with her glittering eyes, as much as to say--in her artful manner--she was quite a match for me--"Will you tell me the truth?"

"Yes, lady; that I will, whether you buy or not, and sixpence will be cheap at the money."

"Well, then, who told you to bring me that nosegay yesterday?"

"Oh," cried the perplexing creature, with a burst of enjoyment, jumping up and down--"such a gen'l'man! Give me a shilling."

"And how did you know me--I mean, did he point me out to you?"--

"Yes;" answered the little elf--for she looked to me like a mischievous sprite, she laughed as I thought so wickedly--"yes: you was with another."

"Another?"--

"Yes: but that was in the fore-part of the day; and you both went away so quick, that you give me no chance; and the gen'l'man called me back. When I seed you in the arternoon, then I give it you."

"And what sort of a--a gentleman?"

"He's now a walking--or was a walking just by the--but would you like to see him?"

"No; certainly not."

"'Cause you can. Give me sixpence, and I'll shew him you, and say nothin'--not a word, my lady. Only round here--'tisn't a minute. I'll walk first."

Without a thought, I was about to follow the child, when FREDERICK coming behind me, laid his hand upon my arm. "LOTTY, my dear," and without looking at him, I thought I should have dropped at his voice.

"FREDERICK!"

"Not going to have your fortune told?" and he glanced at the gypsey.

"My dear FRED, this, you will remember, is the child that"--

"I know," said FRED, as the gypsey with a caper took to her heels. "I know; but LOTTY, my love, you have surely forgotten an old friend? My bridesman, TOM TRUEPENNY."

It was MR. TRUEPENNY. He had come to Brighton upon business; FRED saw him as he alighted from the coach. "He didn't want to break upon us," said FRED: "for you know what a shy, modest fellow TOM is; but I said you'd be delighted to see him."

"Delighted, indeed, FRED," said I.

"Delighted, indeed," stammered MR. TRUEPENNY, colouring like a girl.

"He has a little business to do, but has promised to join us in the evening," said FRED.

"Oh, certainly, with pleasure--in the evening," said TRUEPENNY.

"You'll not fail, TOM?" cried Fred, holding up his finger.

"Depend on my punctuality," replied MR. TRUEPENNY. And then--strangely confused as I thought--he bowed to me, and hurried off.

"He's an excellent fellow," said FRED.

"It was very lucky that you met him, FRED," said I.

"_Very_," answered FRED.

* * * * *

THE IRRESISTIBLES; OR, HORSE GUARDS (BLACK).

It is to be hoped that all those cab-drivers who are dissatisfied with the Hackney Carriage Act will enlist in the British army. A regiment of these fellows would carry everything before them; no troops whatever could stand their charge.

* * * * *

NEWSPAPER PROMOTION.--The "ENORMOUS STRAWBERRY" to the columns of the provincial newspapers, _vice_ the "ENORMOUS GOOSEBERRY", broken for incapacity.

* * * * *

WHAT I SAW, HEARD, AND THOUGHT AT CHOBHAM.

(_By one who has mentally been there_).

I saw the Light Cavalry so heavily accoutred that it seemed a perfect farce ever to have ordered them on "active" service.

I saw the Infantry dressed in such torturingly tight coats, that it appeared a bitter mockery to bid them "stand at ease:" and I thought that what made them smart on parade must make them anything but smart in actual service.

I saw the troops generally learning to stand water as well as to stand fire: and I thought a drenching shower rather seemed to damp their military ardour.

I thought that most of the regiments, in attacking a sham enemy, would be attacked by a real one in the shape of rheumatism: while many a brave fellow who never owned to a defeat would return to his quarters completely weather-beaten.

I heard young ENSIGN DRAWLINGTON complain that it was a "horwid baw fa fla who's--aw--fond of Opwa and Clabs--and--aw--that sorthing, to be fawced to leave town for this fernal camp affaiaw:" and I thought the gallant officer would feel considerably more at home in the Theatre of St. James's than in the Theatre of War.

I saw a force of nearly two dozen policemen sent to keep in order nearly ten thousand men: and I thought that the "force" should be rather called a "weakness" on the part of the Government.

In short, I saw on all sides sufficient ground for thinking that there are few finer fields for observation just at present than the field at Chobham; although, as an area for military manoeuvering, it is not to be compared with many an area in Knightsbridge.

* * * * *

WHAT IS A CABMAN'S MILE?

The question of "What is a Mile?" is likely to take its place by the side of the important question "What is a Pound?" in the annals of political--or some other kind of--economy. Since the new Act has come into force--or rather into operation, for its potency is not yet much felt--there has been a fearful conflict of opinion between the cab-drivers and the public as to what is a mile. It is evident that there must be an appendix added to all the books on arithmetic, for the purpose of including Cab Measure, which is quite distinct from any other measure we have yet met with, and is about as diametrically opposed to Long Measure, as chalk is to any caseal or curdy compound. In the eyes of a cabman, "a miss is as good as a mile;" in fact, anything is as good as a mile for his--that is to say for his passenger's--money.

Any one who takes a cab from the West End to go over the water, whether by Westminster or Waterloo, may think himself fortunate if he is not involved in a sort of "Six-Mile-Bridge affair," by the demand of the cabman for three shillings, as the fare for passing one of the bridges. We can scarcely wonder at the easy familiarity of a cab-driver; for there is no one who seems so utterly incapable of keeping his distance. We trust, however, that the new Act will enable us to have justice brought to our own door, by handing a cabman at once over to the police, when a driver gives us a good setting down in a double sense, by insulting us after taking us to our destination. We may, in fact, now hope that a cabman's abuse--as well as his distance--will have to be measured.

* * * * *

A DETERMINED DUELLIST.

It is said that a celebrated, otherwise a notorious peer, disappointed of satisfaction at the hands of a certain illustrious Earl, has, in his despair, resolved to call out the Man in the Moon. He will quite as soon take the shine out of him as out of the distinguished Earl in question. But then it must not be forgotten that the challenger is a "LONG" shot.

* * * * *

AN UNDERTAKER'S LIVE JOB.

A Cabman, who does not approve of sixpenny fares, wishes to know if the Law will bury him now that it has screwed him down?

* * * * *

QUERY.--Whether Mr. GEORGE BUTT, M.P., who opposed MR. PHILLIMORE'S motion for amending the laws against simony, may be looked upon as one of the buttresses of the Established Church?

* * * * *

THE OLDEST CHANCERY SUIT IN THE WORLD.

On many occasions we have heard of the father of the bar, the father of the City, and of the father of lies; but a discovery has just been made of something which may be perhaps likened to the last, in other matters besides antiquity. We allude to the father of equity, or what we believe to be the oldest suit in Chancery. This precious relic was dug up a few days ago, and its tattered remains were exposed for a few minutes to the air in the Court of VICE-CHANCELLOR KINDERSLEY. It arose out of a bill filed nearly a hundred years ago; and we need not say that it must be by this time a precious old file that keeps the tattered old thing together. It was a bill to distribute all the property of an old Scotchman among all his poor relations, and as the Scotch can always scrape or scratch a relationship with each other, and as the relations of a Scotchman are certain to be poor enough to want something, the whole of Scotland may be said to have been more or less interested in the suit in question. Four hundred and sixty-three persons had already made out a claim, and the descendants of all these are now contending with the descendants of another batch of poor Scotchmen with "itching palms," who have filed bills of reviver for the purpose of galvanising this spectral old suit, which still haunts, like a ghost, the Courts of Chancery.

The Vice-Chancellor made an order for a reviver, "no one appearing to oppose;" and, indeed, who could have appeared but a few ghosts of dead legatees to demur to the galvanising of this sepulchral business? We are satisfied that his Honour, when making the inquiry if "any one appeared to oppose," must have felt, with a shudder, that he was performing a species of incantation, and that to call upon any one to "appear" under such circumstances was almost equivalent to an invocation of _Zamiel_. The "suit," however, is to be permitted again to walk the earth for a time by the agency of a bill of "reviver," and we suppose it will disappear at the cock crow of the long vacation, to come forth again in the dark days of term-time during the ensuing November.

* * * * *

WILD FLOWERS FROM CANADA.

MR. PUNCH has had much pleasure in receiving a newspaper from some of his friends in West Canada. It is called the _Hamilton Spectator_, and _Mr. Punch_ cannot give a higher idea of the excellence of the journal than by mentioning that the first article in the number sent him is from his own pen. So long as the colonists keep such models before them they may safely be trusted with any amount of "self-government."

He must, however, confess himself rather less pleased with a report contained in the next page of the _Hamilton Spectator_. It is an account of the latest proceedings in the House of Assembly. The House was in "Committee of Supply," and salaries, printing expenses, and such matters were in discussion. The report shall speak for itself.

"The next item was £15,094 for expenses at Spencer Wood. MR. MACKENZIE objected to it; saying, that he supposed COLONEL PRINCE would like to treat him as he had once treated the poor prisoners at Sandwich, who were shot accordingly. But if the Honourable Member could do so, it would not prevent him from doing his duty to his country.

"COLONEL PRINCE looked on MR. MACKENZIE as a reptile, and trod on him as such. For the Member for Haldimand to talk of these times, when he practised rebellion, murder, and mail robbery! It was lucky for him he (COLONEL PRINCE) did not catch him, for by the Holy Moses, if he had, the Honourable Member would never have been seen again on the floor of that House. He wished the Honourable Member had come over then, and by the Holy Moses he would have speedily sent him to Heaven. He would have given him a soldier's death, and have thus saved the country many thousand pounds. The Member for Haldimand was an itinerant mendicant, who earned a fortune by sitting in that House and getting a pound a day, because he could not get a fortune anywhere else. He concluded by assuring the Honourable Member that, friendly as he was to independence, if he ever caught him again in the position which he had once been in, he would hang him.

"The resolution was then carried."

Now, this is really rather strong for a Committee of Supply. The Irish Members at home are somewhat turgid and blatant; but, except that MR. GRATTAN (the present one, not the clever one, of course) once intimated that he should like to have the head of one of the Ministers--and really no one wanted a head more than MR. GRATTAN--we do not think that this very emphatic style has been introduced into the English legislature. Imagine MR. GLADSTONE, on the estimates, intimating that he should like to hang SIR JOHN PAKINGTON, for objecting to one of the items, and enforcing his intimation by an appeal to the "Holy Moses."

On the whole, _Mr. Punch_ is disposed to suggest to his colonial friends (over whose fortunes he watches with the utmost interest) that there is one species of "self government" to which they seem hardly to have given sufficient attention. It is personal. Therefore, _Mr. Punch_, who is never personal, will say no more about it.

* * * * *

GOLD FOUND IN ENGLAND.

There seems to be at last a prospect of a check being put to the rush to the Diggings by the discovery of gold in England, and, indeed, it stands to reason that if there is gold at the Antipodes, we have only to dig deep enough down in order to get to it from this side of the world, instead of from the other. Supposing that there is abundance of gold in "the bed of the Turon," we have nothing to do but to get under the bed here instead of going all the way to Sydney for the purpose of getting into the bed in question.

A paragraph in the _Kent Mail_ announces the discovery of gold at Canterbury in such a decided form, that we hope it may check the insane emigration of those who are rushing off to Australia to live under canvas, without any of the comforts or decencies of civilisation, with the idea that gold, and nothing but gold, constitutes "prosperity." The following is the paragraph to which we have alluded:--

"CANTERBURY GOLDFISHINGS.--During Friday and Saturday last a barber in the Friar saw something looking much like sovereigns at the bottom of the river Stow, but thought they were only buttons, and not worth his trouble to get. He repeatedly counted them, to the number of 17. Having, however, communicated to others what he had seen, two young fellows got a boat, and forthwith picked up a number, which proved to be true and veritable sovereigns. The report getting afloat, other persons inspected different parts of the river, and in various places found many more. Altogether above 50_l._ has been recovered in this way; and at the bottom of Fortune's Passage, St. Mildred's, a hair watchguard, with two gold keys and a seal attached, was taken from the river; and at another spot a portion of a mourning ring was picked up."

We may expect, after the publicity we are now giving to this affair, that the outskirts of Canterbury will soon be turned into a "Canvas Town," and that there will be an unprecedented demand for fishing-tackle to supply those who will make a rush to the goldfishings. It will be observed that the Canterbury gold discoveries are superior in many respects to the Australian, for while in the latter the precious metal is in its rough state, the gold found at Canterbury is met with in the very convenient form of gold keys, seals, and sovereigns.

Some people have been puzzling themselves rather seriously with the inquiry, how it is that gold has been found in the river Stow?--but we have no hesitation in accounting for the fact by stating, that this wealth must be the result of the washings of the adjacent see, which is well known to be one of the richest, if not the very richest, in the whole world. We mean, of course, the See of Canterbury.

* * * * *

A LIKELY JOKE.

According to the _Liverpool Standard_, the Irish have been quarrelling amongst themselves at Liverpool; but from our contemporary's version of the affair, we are inclined to doubt this intrinsically very improbable circumstance. That narrative states that the row apparently originated as follows:--

"An Orangeman complained that a Papist boy had thrown some dirt at him."

Orangemen never complain groundlessly of Papist boys, and Papist boys never throw dirt--either literally or figuratively. Dirt!--how are they to come by it? Who ever saw or smelt any such thing as dirt in any the most remote connexion with a "Papist boy?"

* * * * *

CHANGES IN THE CAMP.

It is found that the late wet weather at Chobham has had a most singularly contrasting effect upon the potatory propensities of the officers who have been stationed there. For while the bibulous have been reduced to most unpalatable tent-and-water, the temperate have been rarely known to get to bed without a thorough "soaking."

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE HAT-MOVING TRICK.

For some time past we have seen in the country papers that a great many parties have been given for the purpose of trying the hat-moving experiment. We are not at all disposed to quarrel with the fact, for we are decidedly of a social turn ourselves, and we rejoice to find that party-spirit is so favourably progressing. But the experiment is so certain to be introduced at parties, that we cannot say we see the use of giving them expressly for the purpose of its trial. The motion may in fact be legally regarded as a "motion of course:" as inseparable from a party as white kid gloves and flirting. We would simply put it to the reader, whether, in the whole course of his social experience, he ever recollects being present at a party where, by the time he went away, his hat was not "moved" from the peg on which he hung it. For ourselves, indeed, we may confidently assert that at 99 at least out of a 100 "squeezes" we have attended this season, our hat has been so severely "operated upon" in our absence from the cloak-room, that we have scarcely had an inch of brim left us to walk home in. In fact, on more than one occasion, the operators have so far succeeded in their "moving" as to have moved it altogether off the premises by the time we wanted it: but this has only happened, we believe, when by some unlucky accident we have so far forgot ourselves as to have brought a new one.

* * * * *

ADVICE TO GABBLING M.P.'S.--When you resolve upon making a speech, copy the cook who, preparing a sheep's head, never dishes up the tongue without the brains.

* * * * *

WHAT IS THE HOUSE OF KEYS?

The _Court Circular_ tells us that a deputation from "the House of Keys" had an interview with one of the official somebodies or nobodies at Downing Street the other day, and MR. WILSON, M.P., told the House of Commons the other evening that he had a series of resolutions by "the House of Keys" in his possession. After some research we find that "the House of Keys" is something or other in the Isle of Man, answering probably to the vestry of a parish, the beadledom of an arcade, or some other small local authority.

We should like to be present at a debate among "the Keys," for we are curious to know whether they allude to each other as the "Honourable Member for Street Door," "the Honourable and Learned Member for Padlock," or "the Gallant and Distinguished representative of Tea-caddy." We do not quite understand the principle of election that can prevail in the Isle of Man, if its council consists of nothing but a bunch of keys; and we are rather puzzled to guess whether the franchise attaches to persons or things, and whether it would be the door or the owner of the door, the watch or the owner of the watch, that would send "a Key" to Parliament. There is one peculiarity of result in having a House of Keys instead of a House of Commons; for, of course, in an assembly where the members are all keys they would be unable to deal with any open question. Perhaps, however, we may have mistaken the sort of "Keys" of which the "House" in the Isle of Man is composed, and the members may be mere musical "keys"--a set of sharps and flats, playing any tune, just like any other house of representatives. We cannot conclude without remarking that a very long debate in "the House of Keys" would remind one of "a lock jaw," though the association is not agreeable.

* * * * *

CONJURING AT CHOBHAM.

Alarmists needlessly we are not, and would never prematurely frighten any nervous reader. But we really think it is our duty to apprise the nation, that on paying a visit to the Camp the other evening, we discovered that the men were all turned in-to straw!

* * * * *

THE POTMAN AND THE PRÆTOR.--(A LAY OF THE MIDDLESEX SESSIONS).

_See Times, July 14._

FLATULEIUS, the advocate, His client's cause hath sped, And ADAMUS, the stern Prætor, Hath reared his learned head; He hath summed up to the jury With digressions, by the way, On juvenile offenders And the topics of the day.

Till BIBULUS, the foreman, That was beer-bemused before, By the Prætor's various learning Is mystified still more; And with the eleven, his comrades, More obfuscate e'en than he, Hath been led forth by the lictor, On their verdict to agree.

They have sworn another jury, They have called another case, An hour hath passed, but BIBULUS Hath not yet shown his face, And the learned Prætor wonders What the fools can be about, For he told them what their verdict Ought to be when they went out.

When, sudden, a plebeian Excited, rushes in, And, in a voice that drowneth E'en FLATULEIUS' din, Exclaimeth to the Prætor, "My Lord, a party here Says, as how them blessèd jury Is a drinkin' pots o' beer."

"Ho! call the recreant lictor!" The angry Prætor cried. "'Twas his to guard the doorway That nought might be supplied-- Nor meat, nor drink, nor firing, Excepting candle-light; For so the Law enacteth, And the Law is always right!"

The lictor comes--"Thou traitor! The law dost thou deride? How came liquor to the jury? How was the beer supplied?" "My lord, I heard 'em drinking, And found out that their lay Was to summon forth the potman Of the public o'er the way, Who through the open window The pewter did convey."

One moment paused the Prætor, And with an angry blush, For the Common Law thus outraged, His awful face did flush. One moment you had fancied He was about to swear; But he checked the rising impulse, And spoke with awful air:

"Bring forth to me the landlord Of the public o'er the way; Say 'tis the Law that calls him, And the Law brooks no delay. And summon, too, the potman-- Him who supplied the beer-- And now bring foreman BIBULUS And his bold comrades here!"

With stealthy hand, still wiping The froth from off his chin, They have brought forth beery BIBULUS, And his fellows in the sin. You had not guessed the burden Upon their thirsty souls, Though the Prætor's eye clean through them Its gathered lightning rolls!

Then, in Olympic thunders, The hoarded tempest broke: "Ye seem to take it easy; I'll show ye 'tis no joke! Think ye, in this its temple The Law to flout and jeer, Getting in through the window Pots of illegal beer?

"The Common Law of England Blushes for you, through me; Little thought I that these Sessions Would e'er such scandal see! Go, shameless men! I'll teach ye Your appetites to balk, In a room whereto no pewter Can through the windows walk; And when you bring your verdict, About the fine we'll talk."

BIBULUS knows the Prætor, Nor idly pardon begs; But goeth forth crest-fallen-- His tail between his legs-- When sudden in the lobby Is heard a mighty din, And before the awful Prætor That potman is dragged in!

A loud irreverent laughter Through all the Court-house ran, As pot in hand he stood there, A blank bewildered man! And so sternly looks the Prætor, That the potman knoweth not If he be not going straightway Himself, at last, to pot.

"Thou caitiff!" roared the Prætor, (And mirth was changed for awe) "How answerest thou this outrage On the majesty of Law?" Right humbly spoke the potman-- "Your worship--that's my Lord-- The beer some gem'men ordered, And in course the beer was drored.

"But as for 'Law,' and 'majesty,' That's neither here nor there: The beer was served as called for, And paid for straight and fair. And what I say, your Lordship-- And I means to put it strong-- Is what was I brought 'ere for, When I ha'n't done nuffin wrong?"

"No wrong!" quick spoke the Prætor. "Ho! gaoler--let him see, That in justice's high precinct, Right and wrong depend on me! Go, bear him to the dungeon-- Be the lowest cell his lot! Meanwhile to thee, chief lictor We give in charge the pot."

They have haled him from the Court-house, And have locked him up below; And the lictor guards the pewter, With its head of froth like snow. And never while our Prætor Dealeth stern justice here, Will the most thirsty jury Venture to call for beer, Or the most reckless potman Bring it from public near!

* * * * *

A HINT.

The _Times_ newspaper (a publication of merit, and which may possibly be known to some of our readers) has just put forth an excellent article deprecating the terribly long sittings of the House of Commons, and the love of chattering, on the part of the Members--especially the new ones--which chiefly conduces to those protracted and unwholesome _séances_. But the _Times_ ought to be perfectly well aware that the remedy is in its own hands. These objectionable spouters spout, not to one another (for they ridicule one another's oratory), but to the readers out of doors. If they could not reach these readers they would cease to spout. _Ergo_, if the _Times_ would instruct its reporters to report only what is worth reporting, and, in fact, to deal with all debates as they now deal with those in Committee, when only the pith of the speeches is given, and moreover the pith of the pithy men only, the sittings of Parliament would speedily evince a marvellous change for the better. There! _Mr. Punch_, in his keen, practical way, has solved the difficulty at once.

* * * * *

A JOKE AT THE PUBLIC EXPENSE.

According to a correspondent of the _Daily News_, MR. SERJEANT ADAMS, Assistant Judge of the Middlesex Sessions, is applying to Parliament for an increase of salary from £1,200 to £1,500. The learned Serjeant is often facetious; but certainly this is his richest joke.

* * * * *

ANOTHER INSULT TO IRELAND.

It is quite proper, but very distressing, that Ireland should know all the outrages perpetrated and planned upon her dearest interests. Not a day can elapse that is not notched, like ROBINSON CRUSOE'S, with a new insult from the Saxon. It ought to have been sufficient that the Camp at Chobham was commanded in order to destroy the Dublin Exhibition; the tents being pitched as strongly as possible in outrageous contrast with DARGAN'S Crystal Palace. But no: a certain illustrious personage--with whom it is notorious the sea does not agree--in order to frustrate an intended visit to Dublin, went and caught the measles! Fortunately, however, he is now convalescent; left without a spot, and consequently without an excuse.

* * * * *

AN IMPOSSIBLE COMMISSARIAT.

The EMPEROR OF RUSSIA pretends to say that he will provide his troops, now occupying the Danubian principalities, with rations. How is it possible that any such promise can be kept by an old despot, who is so very irration-al?

* * * * *

ANOTHER POTATO BLIGHT FOR "THE KILKENNY CAT."

The Saxon has again cast his pestiferous blight upon one of Ireland's chosen potatoes; having withered the patriot MURPHY into an Insolvent Commissioner!

* * * * *

NUTS FOR NOTES AND QUERIES.

There is a fine field opened to the editor and contributors of _Notes and Queries_ by the prominence just now being given to the names of Wallachia and Moldavia. We shall leave Wallachia to our contemporary--merely observing by the way that it may have been founded by the WALLACK family--but we have taken a fancy to Moldavia, and shall speculate a little on its origin. We are inclined to regard the first syllable, MOL, as a clear corruption of MARY; and there can be no doubt, in the world that davia is no other than DAVIS, who was probably some relation to the identical DAVIS, whose most unpleasant Straits have conferred upon him such extensive notoriety. Moldavia may, therefore, be regarded as the discovery of one MARY DAVIS; but which one is a little bit of mystery--a sort of bone that we generously throw to our old friend _Notes and Queries_ to "lazily mumble" over during the hot season.

* * * * *

OUR ANCIENT NICHOLAS.

Russia, having crossed the Pruth, Teaches us a bit of truth; Here we have our precious CZAR Lighting up the flames of war.

He that kept all Europe quiet Is involving her in riot, On hostilities we border With this vaunted man of order.

Who were right and who were wrong, We, who hissed him all along, Or the folks that cheered and shouted After him who women knouted?

Now, perhaps, you are disgusted With the tyrant whom you trusted, Oh, unworthy sons of Britain! --Don't you feel a little bitten?

* * * * *

A KEY TO A DIFFICULTY.

When the appointment of City Chamberlain was conferred on SIR JOHN KEY, the worthy Ex-Alderman naturally asked for the keys of office. A brother alderman, who happened to be a wag, remarked that "to bestow a key upon KEY would be to carry coals to Newcastle, and that, therefore, SIR JOHN must be satisfied with his habitual self-possession."

* * * * *

EXTREMELY PARTICULAR.--We know a stupid old teetotaller who is so true to his principles he won't even mix in society!

* * * * *

THOUGHTS ON THE SAVAGE LIONS OF LONDON.

BY A FRIEND AND A BROTHER.

You may talk as you please of magnetic attraction, Electro-biology, media, and stuff: Rapping for Spirits don't give satisfaction, The relatives never relate half enough. Tables on castors, and castors on tables, All I have turn'd to alike in their turn; Mesmeric stories are nothing but fables, _Stories_ indeed, which intelligence spurns.

In all these sensations I own I'm a scorner, Never in them have my feelings a part; But, where GORDON CUMMING was, near Hyde Park Corner, Oh! there, there _is_ something that touches the heart! His exhibition of skins show'd the ravages Hunters can make with the savage wild beast; But now they have got there a troupe of wild Savages, Who have not (as yet!) of their guests made a feast.

Kafirs from Borioboola, or somewhere-- There are delighting the civilised world: Belles from Belgravia in afternoons come there; Thither the fairest of May-fair are whirl'd. Dowagers craving for something exciting, Gentlemen blasé with Fashion's dull round, Those who find novelty always delighting, With those dear Kafirs may daily be found.

And delightful it is there, to see them transacting Their business of marriage, and murder, and war; Delightful to sit there, and know that 'tis acting, And not the real thing--which, _of course_, we abhor. We see in each movement such truth of expression, Their stampings and kickings are done with such grace, That ladies of title e'en make the confession That they in the Savage--nobility trace!

But chief the delight, when the acting is ended, To go to the room from which CUMMING is gone, And there inspect closely their figures so splendid, And, timidly, even shake hands with each one, And their dear little baby we smother with kisses, And stroke and admire its darling bronze skin, And think that there ne'er was a baby like this is, As a lion of London its life to begin.

It is all very proper to say that a baby Might be found nearer home, if we sought for a pet, And that in the back courts of St. Giles's, it may be, Hordes of young savages there we could get: But, they've no fancy dresses to set off their figures, And nothing is thought of an every-day sight; And "UNCLE TOM"'s roused such a _penchant_ for niggers, That dark skins must now take precedence of white.

That little dark baby could never have vices Like those which degrade us in civilised life; And though he may p'raps chop his father in slices, His country has customs that legalise strife. But, really--what humbugs call--Civilisation, Seems spreading everywhere under the skies, That soon, I suppose, we shall not have a nation To furnish a savage to gladden our eyes.

* * * * *

A BENEFICE IN THE MARKET.

In moving, on Wednesday, the second reading of the Simony Law Amendment Bill--deferred, to the delight no doubt of certain prelates, to that day three months--VISCOUNT GODERICH is reported to have asked:--

"What was it which the right of presentation conferred? It was a right to select a man who, as a Minister of the Church of England, was to be intrusted with the spiritual affairs of a certain place."

Yes, indeed, of a certain place--and, one would think, when the right of presentation is simoniacally purchased, of a certain place (not to be mentioned to ears polite) where the cure of souls would be a farce.

* * * * *

STRENGTH APPARENTLY ACCOUNTED FOR.

Notwithstanding the small size of the Aztec children, they are exceedingly strong. An incurable punster says they doubtlessly derived this strength from Gymn-aztecs, from whom it probably descended in a straight line.

* * * * *

HIBERNIAN TACTICS.

The military ability evinced by the Irish Brigade is of a peculiar kind. It is chiefly conspicuous in besieging; for almost the only talent in the whole party has been displayed in taking places.

* * * * *

MILITARY INTELLIGENCE.

The excitement caused by GENERAL PUNCH'S reviews has by no means abated. That gallant and distinguished officer seems determined that the troops in his district shall not be much, if at all, behind those who, at Chobham or elsewhere, have more favourable opportunities of attaining perfection in discipline. The Chamomile Scrubs--the scene of the reviews--are daily thronged with numerous spectators, who, though they generally arrive when there is nothing to see, and go back again in the wet, never appear to be disappointed, but, on the contrary, return in perfect good humour.

A more than usual number of persons assembled yesterday, in the expectation of seeing something grand, a rumour having got abroad that it was the intention of the GENERAL to call out the Brook Green Militia (which distinguished corps, in consequence of the recent augmentation, now numbers nearly two file and a half), and to brigade them with the Queen's Piebalds. It was said, too, that the forces thus brought together would be separated as two divisions, and occupy respectively the Scrubs and Starch Green, and that a sham fight would take place. But the idea (if ever entertained) was abandoned--for what reason we cannot say, as we do not happen to know--these things being kept in profound mystery: but we are informed that a sergeant is under arrest, and will probably be "smashed" for having said that the ground on Starch Green was too stiff for the Piebalds. Such an atrocious attempt at a joke will meet with little sympathy from our readers, and we doubt not the offender will meet with his deserts, though, after all, perhaps, the idea _was_ given up on that ground. The Piebalds, having sole possession of the Scrubs, went through their evolutions with their accustomed precision. The "brilliancy" of the movements was somewhat abated in consequence of GENERAL PUNCH having ordered "field exercise" instead of "marching order." But those who have any regard for our gallant defenders will, we are sure, willingly give up "glittering helmets," &c., for anything that may conduce to their comfort. We subjoin a letter which has come into our hands, which will show that the privates are subjected to privations and moving accidents in peace as well as war--in barracks as well as in the field:--

_To_ LIEUTENANT WHIFFIN, _Royal South-South-East-Middlesex Dun Browns_.

"DEAR WHIFFIN,--I must tell you how we have been going on. Old PUNCH has been working us up in fine style--four field days a week, and riding drill on the off days; besides practising pitching tent in the afternoon in the barrack yard. However, he is such a jolly old fellow, that we don't mind a little extra work for him. One thing he has done which we are particularly thankful for. He lets us go to his reviews in field exercise instead of marching order.

"Young GREEN of ours says he considers it a personal favour. You know he swapped helmets with CAPTAIN WIDEAWAKE when he (WIDEAWAKE) went up to the DUKE'S funeral, and has never been able to get his own back since. WIDEAWAKE is always 'so busy he can't give it him now.' The consequence is, that W.'s helmet rolls about on GREEN'S head like 'anything,' especially at a trot, and the scales are so long that he's obliged to keep his mouth open all the field day to keep it on his head. So that it's fortunate for him that he's only been a serrefile as yet. If he were to lead a troop he would have some difficulty in giving the word of command. Some recruits only recently dismissed have a similar difficulty to brave.

"I got my troop last Tuesday, which I suppose you saw in the _Gazette_; and as the GENERAL wants the captains to get up the names of all the men in the troop, and the number of all the horses, I've got the troop-roll from Sergeant-Major, and am getting it off by heart. I had a 'law-suit' the other day. PRIVATE GRUMBLE reported the bread, but as he was not supported by the other men, I put him down easily. The fact is, he's not much liked by the rest of the men in the troop. He used to be looked up to as a 'schollard,' but has lost ground lately, owing to a singular circumstance. A letter appeared in the _Ballymucky Reporter_, signed 'MILES,' and Sergeant-Major tells me that GRUMBLE wrote a letter in reply, and signed himself 'Two _miles_,' and was informed in the answers to correspondents, in the next number, that he was an ass. All the men saw it, and GRUMBLE got laughed at for his 'law.' I am very glad the men have lost faith in him, as CAPTAIN CHUM told me he was always boring about fractions and the price of shaving brushes. As the GENERAL wants us to know all about straps and buckles, and packing valise, &c., I told Sergeant-Major I would look at one yesterday. So PRIVATE MUSCLES was ordered to show; but as his highlows were at the shoemaker's, and forage cap at the tailor's, and the rest of the valise was filled with two sheets and a bolster, I didn't get much information from him. The Sergeant-Major said I had better order him a week's marching order, and make him show kit in the afternoon. Which I did, as I thought it better to do what the Sergeant-Major said. I looked at the kit in the afternoon. _Such_ a kit, WHIFFIN, you never saw. The Sergeant-Major 'shook up' everything, and found that the fellow had actually got a wisp of hay rolled up in a helmet-bag to represent a shirt, and his 'drors,' as he called them, would, I verily believe, reach from my quarters to the riding-school. Sergeant-Major says he's always late for morning stables in winter because his drawers are so full of holes he can't get into them till a candle is lighted. I hope all this 'private' information won't bore you, but I have really had no time lately to go to town and see any of our old haunts. Besides, the GENERAL says we must take an interest in this sort of thing, in order to study the 'comforts of the men.'

"Good-bye for the present, old fellow. I shall let you know how we're getting on from time to time.

"Yours truly,

"JOHN SNAFFLES, _Queen's Piebalds_.

"P.S.--I've released MUSCLES and given him a new kit, on the condition that he won't get drunk for a month. You know our match with all Hammersmith comes off in three weeks, and it wouldn't do to have him away then--he's a capital long-stop. By the bye, you must contrive to have a pain in the side, or some urgent business with your legal adviser about that time, as we can't get any one to bowl in your place.--J.S."

* * * * *

MORNINGTON'S CHALLENGE.

(_Which was an Attempt to stir up a Noble Lord with a Long Pole._)

Hail, MORNINGTON--what! venerable Peer, Dost thou again before the Public show? Gone to the deuce we thought thee, many a year, As BYRON has it, "diddled," long ago.

Thus reascending on our modern stage, As through a "trap," thou mak'st us boys again; The ardent spirit of thy reverend age, Of GEORGE THE FOURTH revives the splendid reign.

For well do we remember how thy fame Accustomed was our fathers to amuse: And what a by-word was thy complex name, Then daily ventilated in the news.

Then ventilated:--was not that enough That name's purification to complete? Think'st thou that it required the sulph'rous puff Of gunpowder, to make it wholly sweet?

Would'st thou eat fire--the fire of other days? And SHAFTESBURY to that repast invite? Knowing thou might'st as well propose to blaze At any bishop, or at MR. BRIGHT.

Pah! there's a tune which, in the festive hop, Will cause me evermore to think of thee; "Pop goes the Weasel"--thou would'st, too, go pop; Pop goes the WELLESLEY, let it henceforth be.

* * * * *

DIGESTIVE APPARATUS.

The best "grubber" obtained a prize at the late agricultural gathering at Gloucester: but we are not informed whether the successful competitor was a citizen, who emptied a tureen of turtle, or a ploughman, who devoured "a leg of mutton and trimmings." In such a contest Town would be likely to beat Country; at least if the grubbing-match were open to the Corporation of London.

* * * * *

RESULTS OF A WAR.

In the event of Austria and Russia joining in an European war, it is not too much to suppose that Hungary, Lombardy, and Poland, will all become members of the "EARLY RISING Association."

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE DISCOUNTER'S DIRGE.

_A Fragmentary Lament found in the Common Pleas after the recent Trial of_ "S--MM--NS _v._ P--RK--NS--N."

SUPPOSED TO BE SLIGHTLY ALTERED FROM CAMPBELL.

"And I could veep," the _Oneida Chief's_ Caucasian vendor thus begun-- "To hear them Councils, with their briefs, Traducing of my father's son, Vith jokes uncommon low. And that there Judge, vich busts in wrath, Vich takes no heed of vot he saith, But stamps a name as sticks till death-- 'A Knave.' He called me so, And all because that Christian boy Paid somevot dearly for a toy.

"That Hemerald brooch, the vich vas given By Hingland's Queen to PEEL so deep, I charged but fifty-two eleven, As I maintains vos really cheap; They swore the stone was glass, The bracelet for his gentle EVE, They called a Oundsditch make-believe, And said I'd plotted to deceive The fashionable ass-- Six bills at sight I swore my right. The jury took vun extra sight.

"My art goes thump. Before me now That Judge's countenanth appears; I see him knit a norrid brow. His vice is thunderin in mine ears; He puts me in a hawful ole, He riles me till I'm fit to bust, He calls my case, from last to first, About the wilest and the wust Of vich he's ad control: And says the union's 'past belief Of such a Fool,' and 'such a Thief.'"

* * * * *

THE CABMAN'S BEST FRIEND.

"SIR,

"The Police cases under the New Hackney Carriage Act show that a determination to struggle against the working of that measure prevails among the members of my profession, which, though I am a legally qualified medical practitioner, is at present that of a cabman. For, Sir, I turned cabman rather than turn quack or sycophant, one of which things a man must, in general, turn, who has to get his living out of people most of whom are weakly in mind, body, and sex: particularly in these days when ladies of rank and Members of Parliament patronise clairvoyance and homoeopathy. I may add that I have less driving to do now than I had when I was in medical practice, and that I get better paid for it.

"My object in addressing you, is to beg that you will use all your influence to make the public insist on having the provisions of this Act, in regard to fares, severely carried out.

"It may be the opinion of insolent WILLIAM, and intoxicated JAMES, my brethren of the whip, that in expressing this desire I am merely uttering the sentiments of a truculent magistrate, or other odious and tyrannical member of the aristocracy, desirous of interfering between a poor fellow and the swell out of whom it is his business to get as much as he can. They may be disposed to invoke dreadful vengeance upon me for what they consider a sympathy with wealth and respectability, rather than a fellow feeling with labour and themselves. But, Sir, my beery and abusive friends are both wrong. I want the Act of Parliament enforced for the benefit of the people; which is identical with our own.

"The mistake of vituperative WILLIAM, the error of hiccuping and unsteady JAMES, is the supposition that cabs were made for none but extortionate rascals to drive, and none but opulent spendthrifts to ride in. Nature--for nature presides even over hired vehicles--intended cabs not only for the conveyance of intemperate dandies with cigars in their mouths, for travellers in hot haste regardless of expense, and reckless pleasure-hunters dashing away to Cremorne or the Opera. She meant them also for the accommodation of sober matrons of narrow circumstances and broad umbrellas, poor clerks, small tradesmen, indigent authors, and other humble persons pressed for time, troubled with corns, caught in the rain, or otherwise precluded from pedestrianism. Now, an excessive legal fare was enough to keep these kinds of people out of cabs; to say nothing of the certainty of an additional demand, accompanied by insult, and urged in derisive and revolting language.

"Let it be once understood, on all hands, that the new cab tariff is to be a serious reality, a thing as settled as the price of a pot of beer, and I am sure the increase of practice will more than compensate us for the diminution of our individual fees. I speak of those who, like myself, seek an honest livelihood by taking as many cases--that is, fares--as they can, upon reasonable terms, instead of plundering such patients or victims as they can get hold of to the most villanous possible extent.

"Pray, therefore, impress upon all friends of the working man, that working men are to be considered in the light of cab takers as well as in that of cab drivers. There are some impetuous young blades who are prone to scatter their cash about on all kinds of cads, amongst whom we have the honour to rank in their estimation.

"Accordingly they in general overpay us monstrously. Advise them to discontinue that injudicious liberality; it spoils us: it causes us to be discontented with full wages, and to laugh in the face of a customer who proposes to pay us our legal due. It has possessed us with the notion that everybody who takes a cab is infinitely rich: so that when a man does not offer us much more than we are entitled to, we are accustomed to ask him ironically whether he calls himself a gentleman. Hence it is that we dance, with menacing gestures, around those who resist our endeavours to cheat them; collect mobs about them; and pursue them with execrations as far as we dare. A stop will be put to this state of things by the strict and uniform enforcement of the much-needed Act which has been passed for the abatement of our knavery and the prevention of our insolence; I will add, on the whole, for our good: at least for the good of one member of our body, who is also a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and Licentiate of the Apothecaries Company, albeit now necessitated to cry

"HERE YOU ARE, SIR!"

"_The Stand, July, 1853._"

* * * * *

NOTICE.--Unless all the Jokes, which have been sent in about JULLIEN "cutting his _bâton_," are immediately removed from the _Punch_ Office, they will be sold as waste paper, and the proceeds devoted to the benefit of the "ASYLUM FOR IDIOTS."

* * * * *

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

SUNDAY, MAY 26, 18--.

"My dear," said FRED, this morning--"I--I don't think I can go to church. But, of course, _you_ can go, I don't feel like myself this morning."

"I don't wonder at that, love. Indeed, you don't look yourself. But I expected as much."--

"_You_, LOTTY!" and FRED opened his eyes.

"Why, I knew what would come of it. Here were you out till twelve o'clock"--

"It wanted a quarter," said FRED, as if a quarter could make any difference.

"Twelve o'clock," said I firmly, "allowing for watches, before you came home."

"I told you--I was out talking with TOM," and FRED tapped the table.

"Well, if I must say what I think, FRED; I don't like MR. TRUEPENNY. _I--do--not--like--him._"

"I don't wish you to like him, my dear. You're to like and love me; and to love one man industriously and conscientiously is as much as any woman can be expected to do. More no reasonable husband can ask of her."

But this I wouldn't seem to listen to. "Twelve o'clock," I repeated. "Well, what you could find to talk about all that time--and I sitting here at the window alone"--

"You might have gone to bed," said FREDERICK.

"Gone to bed! And _you_ out! Why, what can you think me made of?" But he only looked at me from under his eyes and laughed. "I'm not a stock or a stone."

"Certainly not, my darling. I may perhaps be permitted to observe--in your own picturesque language--quite the reverse. _Quite_ the reverse," and he again tapped the table.

"No, love"--said I; for I thought I'd at once nip _that_ notion in the bud--"of course I don't wish, in fact, I should never think of such a thing, as to desire to control you in the choice of your friends. If I don't like MR. TRUEPENNY, why I can't help it; and there's an end. But what I wish to say, my love, is this--oh, it's no laughing matter, for I'm quite in earnest, I assure you--if MR. TRUEPENNY thinks he's to keep you out till twelve at night, and I'm to go to bed; if he thinks _that_"--

"But I don't believe"--said FRED coolly--"he thinks anything of the matter. Indeed, what is it to him whether you never go to bed at all?"

"Of course; nothing. Only I'm not going to sit up and say nothing. A woman's not to be kept out of her bed as if her soul wasn't her own."--

"Why, your soul doesn't wear a nightcap, does it?" asked FRED, meaning to be aggravating.

"I don't know _that_," said I; for, as I've said, I was determined to nip the notion in the bud. "Nevertheless"--for I wasn't to be put off--"what _could_ you talk of till twelve o'clock?"

FRED said nothing, but looked up at the ceiling.

"No good, I'm sure," said I in a bit of a passion, and before I knew it.

"CHARLOTTE!" cried FREDERICK, and his eyes flashed, as I'd never seen 'em. And then in a moment he looked kind, and I thought sad; and holding out his hand, he said, looking at me and his eyes softening,--"LOTTY, love, don't let us quarrel."

My heart was in my throat, and my arm about his neck. "We shall never quarrel, FRED," said I. "But what I meant to say was--what an odd person MR. TRUEPENNY is."

"Odd? A most excellent fellow!" said FREDERICK with energy.

"Of course. You wouldn't have any other for a friend: I know that, love. But what I mean is, he's so confused--so bashful."

"Yes. A bachelor's fault. I was so myself once. But it's wonderful what confidence marriage gives a man. Kiss me, my darling."

"There, now, FRED; it's Sunday," said I, not knowing what to say. "But why should MR. TRUEPENNY be in such a twitter when he sees me? He blushes and stammers, and"--

"It's your beauty, no doubt," said FRED.

"Nonsense!"

"A solemn truth. Ah! my dear, it's a great comfort for timid men that beauty, like the elephant, doesn't know its strength. Otherwise, how it would trample on us! It's a fact, LOTTY, if you had only known half your power, you'd never have married me. Certainly not. But then women never do. Looking-glasses are thrown away upon 'em, poor things. When you consented to take me, LOTTY, I don't know that I didn't feel quite crushed by your condescension. Quite crushed. Yes: the last knowledge a woman ever acquires is a proper sense of the power of her own beauty. Otherwise, LOTTY, they'd never throw it away upon us; but live and die like the roses. Don't you think they would? Like the roses?"

I said nothing, but was just gently pulling his ear, when the church bells struck out.

"If it isn't church-time," said I; "but I'm drest. Nothing, but my bonnet."

"Well, LOTTY, you can go without me; yes, you"--and then he paused, and looked at me, I thought so strangely, and said--"no, my love: you shall not go alone. We'll go together." With this, he left the room; and a sudden shadow seemed to fall about me.

The next moment, the servant introduced "MR. TRUEPENNY." With his face the truth flashed upon me that--that--I didn't know what. But, instantly, I felt resolved to find it out; and so, in a minute, was in my very best spirits.

"FREDERICK," said I, "will be here directly. He's preparing for church."

"Church," said MR. TRUEPENNY, as if the word half stuck between his lips.

"Don't you ever go to church, MR. TRUEPENNY? I mean"--

"Always," said he. "But the fact is, when one comes to the sea-side"--

"PETER'S boat," I observed very seriously, "was at the sea-side."

"To be sure, certainly," said he; then he looked at the toe of his boot, and then at the pattern of the carpet; in fact, anywhere but at me. Then he coughed, and said--for all the world as if he was talking of prawns--"I'm told there's very good preaching about here."

"I should hope, MR. TRUEPENNY, that there is good preaching everywhere; that is, if persons are only disposed to listen to it." MR. TRUEPENNY--his eye still on his boot--bowed. "I hope," said I, "you will accompany us to church?"

"What! I?" cried the man, really alarmed.

"To be sure: why not?" said FRED, coming into the room. "And then, TOM, we'll take a walk--LOTTY isn't equal to the fatigue"--how did he know that?--"and then we'll all dine, and comfortably close the day together."

"Well, I--I--I've no objection," said MR. TRUEPENNY; as though desperately making up his mind to endure the worst.

"A most admirable preacher, I'm told. Has preached before his Gracious Majesty, when Prince Regent," said FRED.

"Indeed?" said MR. TRUEPENNY, as if he wished to be astonished.

"A great favourite at Brighton; he's so extremely mild and well-bred. Touches upon the pomps and vanities of this wicked world--and scourges the miserable sinners who keep carriages--gently, tenderly. For all the world as if with a bunch of peacock's feathers you'd dust so many images of Dresden China."

"That's lucky," said MR. TRUEPENNY.

"_Why_ lucky?" I asked--for there _was_ something in the man's manner.

"I meant to say," he stammered, "that there are times when one doesn't like--like one's sins to be--bullied--that is, not at the sea-side."

"Quite right, TOM," said FRED, who I could see was helping him out. "Very well in one's own parish church, but"--

"We shall be too late," said I, and I ran from the room; and in a minute--never in all my life did I put my bonnet on so quick--in a minute I was ready.

The church was extremely full--as we afterwards found--for the season. FREDERICK was particularly serious; and for MR. TRUEPENNY, if he'd been listening to his own condemned sermon, he couldn't have been more solemn. It was odd, too, I thought, the glances he now and then cast towards me. And particularly when the clergyman said--and he seemed, I really _did_ think for the minute, as though he was looking right into our pew, when he said--"_Thou shalt do no murder_"--at the very words, MR. TRUEPENNY let his prayer-book slip, and made such a start to catch it, that he drew all eyes upon us. I saw FREDERICK colour scarlet, and bite his lips as he glanced at his friend. At last the service was over, and we got away.

"A very nice sermon," said MR. TRUEPENNY, trying to say something.

"Very soothing," I added; for I knew he was half-asleep all the time.

"Yes; that's it," said he: "but that's what I like, when I come to a watering-place. Something quiet, something to think over."

Well we returned to the inn; and somehow we got through the day. I don't know how late MR. TRUEPENNY would have sat; but, for all FRED'S nods and winks, I was determined to sit him out. At last,--it was nearly twelve--at last he went away.

"We shall meet in the morning," said FRED to him.

"Of--of course," said MR. TRUEPENNY; and then with the awkwardest bow in the world, he left me and FRED together.

"We'd better go to bed," said FRED. "Isn't it late?"

"Very," said I; "and for my part I thought MR. TRUEPENNY was never going."

I went into my room, and--there upon my table--was a slip of paper written in JOSEPHINE'S hand, with these words:

"_If you really love master, you'll not let him get up to-morrow morning!_"

And now all the horror was plain as light! "Get up!" I thought--and all a woman's resolution came upon me--"only let me once get him well to bed, and he _doesn't get up_." I listened for his footsteps. He came. I met him with a smile; and _didn't I lock the door_?

* * * * *

MARKET AND TRADE REPORT.

CITY.--The deportation of such large numbers of shirt hands, to which we have before alluded, has caused an unparallelled rise in wages, amounting, we are assured, in some cases, to as much as a farthing per dozen on "gents' dress." It is rumoured that the "United Distressed Needle-women" contemplate striking for a reduction of the hours of labour. Twenty-one hours a day, with three intervals of two minutes each for meals, except during the busy season which comprises only about eleven months in the year, is spoken of as likely to be their stipulation.

MANCHESTER.--Policemen are in rather better demand, at a slight advance on former prices. Good stout articles are quoted at from 13_s._ to 17_s._ per week; sergeants 19_s._ to 21_s._; best blues, strong, full length, 23_s._

* * * * *

CARVING HIS WAY TO INIQUITY.

A culinary wag (not SOYER) has inserted in his Cookery Book the proclamation of EMPEROR NICHOLAS, in which he talks largely about the "orthodox faith" and "the sword," and has labelled it: "DIRECTIONS FOR CUTTING UP A TURKEY."

* * * * *

THE STAMP OF LIBERALITY AND MEANNESS.

The liberal man, when he is in doubt about the proper weight of a letter, puts on two stamps: the mean man only puts on one.

* * * * *

SAPPHICS OF THE CABSTAND.

_Friend of Self-Government._

Seedy Cab-driver, whither art thou going! Sad is thy fate--reduced to law and order, Local self-government yielding to the gripe of Centralisation.

Victim of FITZROY! little think the M.P.'s, Lording it o'er cab, 'bus, lodging-house and graveyard, Of the good times when every Anglo-Saxon's House was his castle.

Say, hapless sufferer, was it MR. CHADWICK-- Underground foe to the British Constitution-- Or my LORD SHAFTESBURY, put up MR. FITZROY Thus to assail you?

Was it the growth of Continental notions, Or was it the Metropolitan police force Prompted this blow at _Laissez-faire_, that free and Easiest of doctrines?

Have you not read MR. TOULMIN SMITH'S great work on Centralisation? If you haven't, buy it; Meanwhile I should be glad at once to hear your View on the subject.

_Cab-driver._

View on the subjeck? jiggered if I've got one; Only I wants no centrylisn', I don't-- Which I suppose it's a crusher standin' sentry Hover a cabstand.

Whereby if we gives e'er a word o' cheek to Parties as rides, they pulls us up like winkin'-- And them there blessed beaks is down upon us Dead as an 'ammer!

As for MR. TOULMIN SMITH, can't say I knows him-- But as you talks so werry like a gem'man, Perhaps you're a goin' in 'ansome style to stand a Shillin' a mile, Sir?

_Friend of Self-Government._

I give a shilling? I will see thee hanged first-- Sixpence a mile--or drive me straight to Bow Street-- Idle, ill-mannered, dissipated, dirty, Insolent rascal!

* * * * *

PEDESTRIANISM AT ST. STEPHEN'S.

Members of the House of Commons, being in the Library, or elsewhere about the House, have to run for it in order to be present at divisions, and are sometimes too late. Lightness of heels (as well as of principle) appears to be a quality necessary to a representative of the British people. An election contest might be an actual footrace. Why not? The candidate that is able to outrun his opponent is at least as fit and proper a man to represent a constituency, as he is who can outbribe him. However this may be, we expect soon to see some such arrangements as the following among the Parliamentary notices:--

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY will run JOSEPH HUME, or any other Member, on the India question; or what not.

FREDERICK LUCAS, the Scarlet Runner, will match himself with PHINN, the Bath Brick, to run any length upon the Nunneries' Bill; or as much farther as the POPE chooses.

COLONEL SIBTHORPE will run any Member of HER MAJESTY'S Government (in which he has no confidence) at any time, on any question.

We shall also have SIR J. T. TYRRELL, the Farmer's Boy, challenging LORD JOHN RUSSELL, the Bedford Pet, to a trial of speed; the ATTORNEY-GENERAL will be invited to a similar match by SIR F. THESIGER; MR. BRIGHT will be proposing to hop LORD PALMERSTON; and perhaps MR. BENJAMIN DISRAELI will want to jump MR. GLADSTONE in a budget.

* * * * *

ST. STEPHEN'S RUBBER.

To judge from the smoke in which the investigation of the Dockyard abuses has ended, it would seem that the late Government played their cards in the knowledge that knaves were trumps.

* * * * *

THE EAST INDIA HOUSE.--It has been said of the East India House, that "it is an establishment which, in patronage, and other delicate little matters, generally goes 'the whole HOGG.'"

* * * * *

* * * * *

PAX VOBISCUM.

The Irish constituencies being now completely in the hands of their spiritual advisers, it is contemplated that henceforth the Speaker's writ for a new election in Ireland shall be directed to the priests of the vacant locality. The Reverend gentlemen are to meet (whiskey toddy and tobacco to be charged to the county), and their endorsement of their tool's name on the back of the writ, without any other form of election, is to save all the riot and bloodshed which they now feel it their duty to their Church and their consciences to cause, if a layman, Catholic or Protestant, ventures to present himself to the electors without priestly sanction. Anything for peace and quietness.

* * * * *

THE FARMER'S MAGIC STROP.

The genius of MR. MECHI has sharpened many razors:--may it have a corresponding effect upon agricultural blades.

* * * * *

HINTS FOR A NEW EDITION OF THE DRAMATISTS.

We have been favoured with a glimpse of the note-book of a great dramatic critic, who evidently contemplates giving, or selling to the world, a great national treat in the form of a new edition of the dramatists. The annotator seems to combine all the acuteness of the needle with the straightforward bluntness of the railway buffer. We subjoin a few specimens:--

NOTE ON THE TRAGEDY OF DOUGLAS.

There is a passage in this play which has escaped the attention of all critics who have preceded me; a passage which shows _Glenalvon_ to have been of a social disposition. In one of the scenes with _Norval_, _Glenalvon_ says (_aside_),

"His port I love."

And, from this remarkable passage, we get three facts: first, that _Glenalvon_ liked port; secondly, that he had tasted _Norval's_ port; and, thirdly, that the port in question was of a high character.

NOTE ON JULIUS CÆSAR.

The character of _Casca_ has never yet had full justice done to it by the critics; but there is one passage which may be compared to a perfect thoroughfare for finding our way to _Casca's_ real condition. He evidently belonged to the landlord or agrarian party in the State, and there can be no doubt that the terms on which his tenants held of him were exorbitant. The whole fact bursts in upon us like a thunderbolt through the roof of an out-house, or a broker through the door of an apartment with the rent in arrear, when we read the following line, spoken by _Antony_ in the course of his funeral oration over _Cæsar_:

"See what a rent the envious _Casca_ made!"

Now, this allusion to the rent made by _Casca_ proves either one of two things: First, that he let lodgings at a high price; or, secondly, that he derived a considerable income from a landed tenantry. I am inclined to the latter supposition, for it is possible that had he let merely lodgings, some of the lodgers would have been introduced into the play, with that nice appreciation of the ludicrous for which SHAKSPEARE is conspicuous. This not having been done, we are driven on the other hypothesis, to which, on the whole, we give the preference.

The above specimens will suffice to show the public the addition that may be shortly expected to a department and style of literature in which the English language is already rich--excessively rich--in the opinion of some of us.

* * * * *

PHILOSOPHY TEACHING BY CONUNDRUMS.

Why are diplomatic papers called Circular Notes?--Because they go round about a subject without coming to any definite end! They are, moreover, called Circular because they are seldom on the square.

* * * * *

EXPENSIVE SPIRITS.--The estimates of the charge of the disembodied Militia are heavier than one would expect on the supposition that the Militia, disembodied, consists of the ghosts of Militiamen.

* * * * *

THE AFFAIRS OF TURKEY.--The SULTAN may "lead a life of jollity:" but his Minister for Foreign Affairs is REDSCHID.

* * * * *

BRICKS.

The natural history of Bricks is interesting.

We are enabled to trace it without difficulty from very ancient periods, both with reference to its different structures, and with reference to building purposes.

It is pleasing to observe how the bitumen was first used, how it was moulded into form, and baked into hardness, by the heat of the Persian sun. We can trace it through many of its forms until we come to the great Roman Brick of nine inches long, three inches broad, and three inches thick. We now discover, with the satisfaction and pleasure of the antiquarian, how long these Bricks have endured; but, for many years, we were not aware of any application of the Brick, other than that of strength, stability, and support of edifices--edifices which, sometimes, might really raise the question: "To what extent the architect for _Time_ meant to contend with _Eternity?_"

We think we are indebted to our Cambridge friends--it may be to our Harrow friends, we cannot tell--for the first moral or ethical application of the word Brick.

How common it has been of late years to say to a man, whose virtuous tendencies are of the first order, "My dear fellow, you are a Brick." It becomes, however, more emphatic in the usage of the third person. "Do you know MR. SO-AND-SO? Is he really a man I can trust? Is he a good fellow?" The answer in one word is, "He's a Brick." The answer is satisfactory, in all senses, to the propounder of the question--indeed, a more satisfactory reply cannot be uttered.

We have heard this kind of expression called _slang_--it really is not so. Gentlemen, take up your _Plutarch_, turn to the Life of AGESILAUS, and what do you read? You'll find, if you understand Greek--and if you don't, set about learning it immediately, for the purposes of history, as well as poetry and elevation of thought--that when the Ambassador from Epirus went to AGESILAUS, to have a diplomatic chit-chat with him, he said to him: "Where on earth are the walls of Sparta? In other States of Greece the principal towns have walls--but where are yours, dear AGESILAUS?" The SIR STRATFORD CANNING, or LORD COWLEY, from Epirus, was answered by that amiable monarch: "I'll to-morrow at morning dawn shew you the walls of Sparta. Breakfast with me, old chap; some of the best black soup that Sparta can afford shall be put on the table: and I'll shew you the walls."

They met: and AGESILAUS had drawn out his Spartan army before him, and, with exulting cheer and dignified mien, said to his friend from Epirus, "Look! _these are the Walls of Sparta, Sir; and every particular man you see is a Brick._" How classical becomes the phrase! how distinct from slang!

We do not say we have translated the great _Plutarch_ literally, but we have translated him in spirit, and if that great man had been now living, and could have seen this, he would no doubt have been delighted, and grateful to us for our application of history to the correction of vulgarisms, and to the promotion of sound and sincere classical literature.

* * * * *

SLIGHT MISTAKES.

Why is there such a fuss made about the purchase of benefices, the possession of pluralities, and the management of bishops to get more income than they ought to have? These are all merely clerical errors.

* * * * *

THE "VEXATA QUÆSTIO."--"What is a mile?"

* * * * *

* * * * *

SPIRITED CONDUCT OF MR. CHARLES KEAN.

MR. CHARLES KEAN continuing to be exposed to the nuisance of criticism, has determined, though with much regret, on a still more decided step in vindication of his personal dignity than any he has yet taken. Having already struck off the Free List of the Princess's Theatre all the critics who have insolently ventured to express unfavourable opinions of his acting, MR. KEAN had hoped that the public would have taken this warning that he is not amenable to hostile criticism. In this hope he regrets to find himself disappointed. Many persons still consider him a bad actor, and have not shrunk from audaciously expressing this detestable opinion in and out of the Princess's Theatre. Further forbearance on MR. KEAN'S part would clearly be an act of injustice to himself.

He has, therefore (though at cost of much pain to himself), resolved on a measure which he trusts will prevent any repetition of this annoyance. MR. KEAN deeply regrets that HER MAJESTY, having lately visited the Haymarket Theatre, was observed (no doubt, in an unguarded moment,) to laugh at MR. BRAID'S offensive (and most unsuccessful) imitation of MR. KEAN'S performance in the _Corsican Brothers_, which MR. BUCKSTONE has had the bad taste to sanction in a ridiculous and entirely unsuccessful burlesque or extravaganza, called the _Ascent of Mount Parnassus_. This having been brought to MR. KEAN'S ears (as most acts of the same kind are sure to be), he has, in consequence, struck HER MAJESTY'S name off the Free List of the Princess's Theatre, exclaiming, in the manner of _Richard_, and in a tone of dignity which so over-powered the prompter and stage-manager that he has not yet recovered the shock--

"Off with her name! so much for Royalty!"

* * * * *

EVANESCENT ART.

The most remarkable exhibition of Dissolving Views is that of the National Gallery, where, through various chemical processes and mechanical means, the pictures of the ancient Masters are undergoing dissolution.

* * * * *

THE PUBLIC'S ADDRESS TO HIS CABMAN.

(IMITATED FROM THE ARAB'S ADDRESS TO HIS STEED.)

My insolent; my turbulent! that stands crest-fallen by, With the recent Cab Act in thy hand, and tear-drops in thine eye, Try not to overcharge us now, or make our pockets bleed; You cannot do it now again--thou'rt sold, my man, indeed. Fret not with that impatient cough: if surlily inclined, The nearest station is the place at which redress to find; The magistrates have now the power to mulct thee of thy gold, Or send thee off to jail, my friend. Thou'rt sold, my man, thou'rt sold.

'Tis well! those old and crazy wheels not many a mile can roam; After next October you must keep that vehicle at home. Some other cab less old and torn you shortly must prepare, With roof not full of crevices, admitting rain and air. Yes, it must go! the crazy cab, the old abandoned fly, Must on thy master's premises be finally put by; And in it there some juveniles, who cannot get a ride, May cram themselves, by climbing up the wheels on every side.

Do they ill-use thee, Cabman? No! I'm sure it cannot be; You that have bullied half the world, and humbugged even me. And yet, if haply thou'rt done up, and for thee we should yearn, Can the same law that cut thee off compel thee to return? Return! alas! my Cabman bold, what shall the public do, When rain is falling everywhere, wetting the public through? I'll stand me up beneath an arch, and pause and sadly think-- 'Twas at the beer-shop opposite, the Cabmen used to drink.

THE CABMEN USED TO DRINK! Away--my fevered dream is o'er; I could not live a day and know cabs were to be no more. They've cut thee down, exacting one; but legal power is strong: You tempted us, my insolent! you kept it up too long. Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold? 'Tis false! 'tis false! Thou'rt better off, my Cabman, thou art told. Thus, thus, I leap into thy cab, to ride five miles from town, And when at Acton I alight, I'll pay thee half-a-crown.

* * * * *

* * * * *

AN APPROPRIATE AMENDMENT.

Seeing how extremely difficult it is to get a complaint listened to at almost any post-office, we think the old simile "As deaf as a Post" might very suitably be altered into "As deaf as a Post-Master."

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE GREAT CHOBHAM CAMPAIGN.

We learn with pleasure that the gallant fellows assembled under canvas at Chobham have proved that they can not only stand fire, but they can stand water with astonishing bravery. No soldiers have ever gone so far "into the bowels of the land" as these highlowed heroes, who have stamped the imprint of their military heels on the mud of Chobham. Never were laurels so thoroughly watered as the laurels worn at Chobham, by what Cockneyism would call indiscriminately the veterans and the wetter-uns of our encamped soldiery. If any man lately under canvas has had a stain to get rid of, we may be sure that it has been thoroughly washed out by the showers with which he has been saturated. The only wonder is that the gallant fellows have not been all washed away by a mode of "hero wash-up" that would have been indeed deplorable.

* * * * *

THE LAST OF THE PAUPERS.

A pauper is generally imagined by foreigners to be a lantern-jawed, herring-paunched, emaciated and pallid wretch, cropped and shaven, clothed in pepper-and-salt ditto, and employed in crushing bones for manure and soup. Thanks to Free Trade and the Diggings--among second causes--this order of fellow Christians is now almost extinct. Our continental neighbours will find, on inquiry, that a wholly different appearance is for the most part presented by the remaining objects of British charity. Coats, waistcoats, and trousers--in some cases gaiters and breeches--of superfine black cloth, warm and comfortable to the feeling, sleek and glossy to the sight, envelope with liberal amplitude proportions which are plump, and perhaps corpulent. The nether extremities are encased in capacious and shiny highlows, sometimes silver-buckled. A goodly beaver hat with extensive brim shades the entire man from the rays which tend to liquefy the oleaginous part of him. This is the only badge of poverty that he bears about him; its form is suggestive of an emblem of manual labour--the Shovel.

His dietary is open to no objection in regard either to quantity or quality; except that, in both respects, it tends rather to produce plethora and engender gout. It is, in fact, discretional; for even when he enjoys an indoor maintenance, he receives a stipend in lieu of rations, and this sum is usually handsome enough to enable him to indulge in every delicacy of every season.

When he thus lives in the House--the Almshouse provided for him--he has the whole of it to himself, and is required to share it with nobody except his own family if he is blessed with one: so far, therefore, from being separated from his wife in a comfortless ward, he occupies a mansion which is the abode of domestic happiness.

His work is mostly as optional, conversely, as his victuals: so that he can eat and drink as much, and exert himself as little as he likes. The only employment obligatory upon him is light clerical duty, and the greater part of that he is permitted to delegate to somebody else. He is supposed, indeed, to be continually producing new editions of Greek Testament, biblical or patristic commentaries, confutations of Popery, apologies for Church-rates, and other works tending to the spiritual welfare of the nation; to the due performance of which tasks a necessary condition is learned leisure, accompanied by nutritious food and generous liquor.

This walking monument of beneficence--walking when he does not ride in a well-appointed carriage--is almost the only eleemosynary kind of person, except the actual mendicant, existing among HER MAJESTY'S subjects. The funds which serve for the maintenance of the order of industrious poverty to which this useful member of society belongs, are derived from freehold and personal property together with rent-charges on land, amounting on the whole to £50,000,000. That all this property was granted by our ancestors for charitable purposes--to wit hospitals and schools--attests their munificence; whilst how prosperous we are is evident from the fact, that in order to use up all their bounty, we roll several hundred paupers into one.

* * * * *

THE HEROES OF A HUNDRED SHOWERS.

The Clerk of the Weather ought certainly to be called to account for his treatment of our gallant soldiers at Chobham, who have been literally in "soak" during nearly the whole of the present campaign. The incessant wet is, in fact, a reflection upon the courage of the military, for we may well ask if they are subjected to weather that is always foul on the principle, that "none but the brave deserve the fair."

* * * * *

THE MAD CABMAN'S SONG OF SIXPENCE.

Wot's this?--wot hever is this 'ere? Eh?--arf a suvrin!--feels like vun-- Boohoo! they won't let me have no beer Suppose I chucks it up into the sun!-- No--that ain't right-- The yaller's turned wite! Ha, ha, ho!--he's sold and done-- Come, I say!--I won't stand that-- 'Tis all my eye and BETTY MARTIN Over the left and all round my hat, As the pewter pot said to the kevarten.

Who am I? HEMPRER of the FRENCH LEWIS NAPOLEON BONYPART, Old Spooney, to be sure-- Between you and me and the old blind oss. And the doctor says there ain't no cure. D'ye think I care for the blessed Bench?-- From Temple Bar to Charing Cross? Two mile and better--arf a crown-- Talk of screwing a feller down! As for poor BILL, it's broke his art. Cab to the Moon, Sir? Here you are!-- That's--how much?-- A farthin' touch! Now as we can't demand back fare.

But, guv'ner, wot can this 'ere be?-- The fare of a himperial carridge? You don't mean all this 'ere for me! In course you ain't heerd about my marridge-- I feels so precious keveer! How was it I got that kick o' the ed? I've ad a slight hindisposition, But a Beak ain't no Physician. Wot's this 'ere, Sir? wot's this 'ere? You call yerself a gentleman? yer Snob! He wasn't bled: And I was let in for forty bob, Or a month, instead: And I caught the lumbago in the brain-- I've been confined-- But never you mind-- Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! I ain't hinsane.

Vot his this 'ere? Can't no one tell? It sets my ed a spinnin-- The QUEEN'S eye winks--it aint no sell-- The QUEEN'S ed keeps a grinnin: Ha, ha! 'twas guv By the cove I druv-- I vunders for wot e meant it! For e sez to me, E sez, sez e, As I ort to be contented! Wot did yer say, Sir, wot did yer say? My fare!--wot, that! Yer knocks me flat. Hit in the vind!--I'm chokin--give us air-- My fare? Ha, ha! My fare? Ho, ho! My fare? Call that my fare for drivin yer a mile? I ain't hinsane--not yet--not yet avile!-- Wot makes yer smile? My blood is bilin' in a wiolent manner! Wot's this I've got? Show us a light-- This ere is--wot?-- There's sunthin the matter with my sight-- It is--yes!--No!-- 'Tis, raly, though-- Oh, blow! blow! blow!-- Ho, ho, ho, ho! it is, it is a Tanner!

* * * * *

Parliamentary Parallels.

"MR. SPOONER presented a petition from parishes in Wiltshire against the opening of the Crystal Palace on Sundays."

Suppose MR. LUCAS were to present a petition from parishes in Meath, praying for the closure of butchers' shops on Fridays?

* * * * *

* * * * *

SONGS OF THE MENDICANTS.

No. 1.--THE SAILOR BEGGAR'S SONG.

I'm a jolly London sailor; Gaily still I keep afloat, With the picture of a Whaler, And the model of a boat. True, I ne'er was on the Ocean, But I've travelled wide and far, Kept by the police in motion. Pity a Whitechapel Tar!

Shivered are my timbers, stranger; Lame, you see, is poor JACK JUNK: Yes, I got this, braving danger, (Falling from a scaffold drunk). On my forehead see depicted Valour's honourable scar ('T was with a pint pot inflicted). Pity a Whitechapel Tar!

Glazed my hat and blue my jacket, White my trowsers, loose my tie; Seaman's costume, when I lack it, Down at Houndsditch I can buy. Naval talk I've learnt in places Where the British seamen are; "Furl the main-top," "splice the braces." Pity a Whitechapel Tar!

Nursemaids, from your upper casements Throw the halfpence freely down; Cooks from areas and from basements, On the sailor do not frown. Bring the joints out, if we ask it, Distant is the seaman's star; (Here's the plate! I'll prig the basket). Pity a Whitechapel Tar!

* * * * *

TOAST AND WATER.--A Toast proposed at a Temperance Meeting.

* * * * *

GREAT JEW MEETING.

On Saturday evening last, a large and influential meeting of members of the Hebrew nation assembled in the Synagogue, Great Saint Helen's, for the purpose of taking into consideration the recent article in _Punch_, in which that illustrious individual, remarking upon the fact that Jews were somehow or other mixed up in most cases of fraud, chicanery and imposture, strongly counselled the respectable and wealthy portion of the community to take such measures, as might tend to destroy an argument especially useful to those whose bigotry resisted the admission of the Jew Englishman to the civil rights of a Christian Englishman.

Among those who were present we noticed BARON INGOTS, SIR AARON MONTECHRISTO, MR. ALDERMAN FITZDAVID, the REV. RABBI HAPHTORAH, PROFESSORS BERESHITH and BARA, and others, as representatives of the higher classes; and MESSRS. ABRAHAMS, ISAACS, JACOBS, IKEY, BARNEY, CLO, O. CLO, BEHEMOTH, GONOFF, SHOBBUS, FENCE, SHEENEY, TANGO, &c. &c. on the other interest. The former class had not deemed it desirable to bring the ladies of their families, but in the body of the meeting we remarked MRS. and MISS IKEY, MRS. BEHEMOTH, MRS. and the MISSES SHOBBUS (11), MRS. and MISS SHARON, MRS. TUSKS, and other distinguished Mosaic ornaments of private life.

MR. ALDERMAN FITZDAVID was voted into the chair, and a disposition to disturbance among the less select part of the meeting was speedily suppressed by the worthy Alderman reminding them, in a firm but good-humoured tone, that "he happened to be a magistrate." A young gentleman in the crowd appeared to take this remark as personal, and left the meeting somewhat abruptly, immediately after which it was noticed that MRS. SHARON was compelled to borrow her daughter's pocket-handkerchief.

MR. ALDERMAN FITZDAVID then read the article from _Punch_, and said that the Hebrews were deeply indebted to that periodical. It had never shrunk from fighting their battles, or from pointing out their errors, and he was convinced that no right-minded Jew could mistake _Mr. Punch's_ meaning or mistrust his goodwill. There was no doubt that the great mass of the Jews in England worshipped gold with a devotion which made them blind to better things.

_A Voice._ Vot's better, my dear, ceptin' dimonds; eh, vot.

MR. ALDERMAN FITZDAVID would tell them. Honesty was better, and straightforward dealing, and liberality. Why had the word Jew become synonymous--

_A Voice._ Eh? vot. There's a proud vord. Dictionary, s'elp me! Aint he ambitious? Synonnymouth! Lor!

MR. ALDERMAN FITZDAVID. Synonymous with--he would not say cheat, but with a sharp practitioner, in the mouths of their Christian fellow-subjects?

_A Voice._ All prejudith, my dear; all blinded prejudith, whereof it behoves them to be ashamed. (The speaker was here removed by Policeman C 146, in order to an arbitration in regard to a gold snuff-box just annexed by the former.)

BARON INGOTS said that he was urgent to remove this reproach from Israel. He looked to education as the remedy, but then the Jews had already ample provision of well-conducted schools. There was something wanting besides mere book-learning.

The REV. RABBI HAPHTORAH would not preach to them, but he, in common with all who endeavoured to do good by instruction, felt painfully that the spirit of modern Jewism counteracted the effect of the noble Hebrew rules of life. What was the use of his proclaiming "Covet not," when the lesson of every day was "Covet everything, and get as much of it as you can."

_A Voice._ The Christians as talks is so much better, isn't them?

SIR A. MONTECHRISTO. That was no answer. Besides he was bound to admit that there was a large portion, though only a portion, of the Christians, who did look to better things than mere gain. It was a disgrace to the English Jews, considering their limited number and great advantages, that they did not present a practical refutation of the charges of their enemies.

_A Voice._ Hear him! Vy, he could buy up streets full of Christians as easy as I'd buy a net of oranges. (_Blandly._) D'ye happen to vant any fine oranges, SIR HAIRON? Proud to vait upon yer at yer ouse--knows it vell. Not a Lord in the land--not the DUKEY VELLINTONS himself has got a finer. Now.

PROFESSOR BERESHITH dwelt with much earnestness upon the contemptible character of the greedy and avaricious man, and upon his inevitably low station in the scale of society; but his speech was interrupted by MRS. BEHEMOTH, who insisted on forcing her way to the chairman, in order to get him to buy a ring which had come into her hands rather promiscuous, and was just fit for his finger. The horrible clamour which the energetic matron made, on being put forth from the meeting, tended to bring matters to a conclusion. Other speeches were delivered, in which the Hebrew gentlemen expressed their sincere desire to improve the condition of their humbler brethren, but the latter did not seem very grateful or much inclined to co-operate. A resolution of thanks to _Punch_, and of hope that he would continue his exertions for and among the Jews was carried, and the meeting was broken up.

* * * * *

A WASTE OF SYMPATHY.

Punch has seen that much generous sympathy has been excited for an unfortunate Cab-driver, "said" to have been sent to prison for a month for the offence of not having five shillings in his pocket. One story is good till another is told; but unfortunately the police reporters tell so many stories, that it is almost impossible to keep pace with them. After several columns of indignation--more or less virtuous; after the expenditure of a rivulet of ink, having more than the usual quantity of gall in it; and after a little energetic questioning in the House of Commons, the plain truth comes out that the Cab-driver never said a word about "not having five shillings," and consequently was not sent to prison at all for his poverty, but because he was convicted of an overcharge, and because he declined the test of actual measurement which was offered to him.

We make every allowance for a reporter whose province it may be to exaggerate gooseberries, and give undue enormity to cauliflowers for paragraphical purposes, but it is rather too hard of him to indulge his imagination and allow it to run riot in getting up a monstrous case of magisterial oppression. The affair has, perhaps, answered its purpose, for it has given gigantic dimensions to a police report and made that productive of half-a-crown which would, if kept within the commonplace limits of fact, have yielded scarcely a shilling; it has given an opportunity to "able editors" to write admirable leading articles--admirable in every respect but the foundation, which has unfortunately given way; and it has permitted vigilant Members of Parliament to show their vigilance, by asking the Home Secretary what he is about, and why he doesn't reverse a few magisterial decisions every now and then, by way of keeping up the "independence" of the Bench and showing that he is not asleep in his office. So far as any good may result from these things, the fictitious report of the Cab case has answered its purpose; but the only real advantage we can see in it has been gained by the Cabman, for whom subscriptions have poured in which have enabled him to pay his fine, and perhaps leave him a handsome balance for future penalties. Whilst we firmly oppose the Cabman in all his delinquencies--and they are not a few--let him only come forward with a real wrong, and he shall have all the benefit of _Punch's_ avenging _bâton_.

* * * * *

WELL OFF FOR SOAP.

In consequence of the reduction of the Soap Duties, an eccentric gentleman, who likes a smooth shaven lawn, has the lawn in front of his house lathered in order to be shaved.

* * * * *

LOVESUIT AND LAWSUIT.

Promise of marriage is like precious China--a man has so much to pay for its breakage.

* * * * *

MARTIN IN JACK'S GOWN; OR, _MAWWORM_ WELL ACTED.

There is no kind of man more delightful to meet with than a good clergyman who is also a good fellow, and, moreover,--within canonical and decent limits--a wag. Now, here is one such singularly pleasant parson, writing, as a correspondent of the _Times_, thus:--

"Sir,--My attention has just been directed to an Advertisement in the _Times_ of the 11th instant, inserted by the Great Western Railway Company, announcing an excursion train for Sunday, the 17th instant, to Oxford, Banbury, Leamington, Warwick, and concluding by saying, that 'the Warwick station is only a short distance from the romantic ruins of Kenilworth Castle.'

"This last sentence is probably only added as a bait to catch excursionists. It is well, therefore, that such and the public in general should know that--thanks to the excellent proprietor, the EARL OF CLARENDON--'the romantic ruins of Kenilworth Castle' are not open to visitors on the Sabbath--an arrangement, I may add, which has added much to the morality and proper observance of the Lord's Day in our parish.

"I remain, your obedient Servant,

"EDWARD R. EARDLEY WILMOT,

Vicar of Kenilworth.

"_Vicarage, Kenilworth, July 18._"

This is no judaising Puritan, this MR. WILMOT. This is no semi-Christian pharisee, substituting for the broad phylactery the extensive white choker highly starched; no fanatical sort of hybrid or mule, taking most after donkey. No; our Reverend gentleman is a genial, kindly priest, with a turn for playful irony--in the spirit whereof he writes to the _Times_. He knows well enough--bless him!--that the liberal EARL OF CLARENDON would never have shut up "Kenilworth Castle" against the busy people, on the only day when there would be any use in opening it to them. He, to be sure, is aware that the ungracious deed has been perpetrated by some underling; some sanctimonious BAREBONES of a steward, or some methodistical old housekeeper, to whom the "bitter observance of the Sabbath" is sweeter than fees. Indeed, his use of the Jewish word Sabbath, in this connexion, for the day which he calls below by its Christian name, allows his real feeling as regards the matter to transpire. In feigning to thank the excellent EARL OF CLARENDON for a miserable act of bigotry, he takes a funny way of letting the noble EARL know what a sectarian ass some one of his servants has been making himself in the name, and at the expense, of the reputation of his Lordship.

The conclusion of our Reverend humourist's epistle is capital. No doubt such an arrangement as that of shutting up "a romantic ruin," a scene of picturesque and venerable beauty, replete with historical associations of famous memory, suggestive of lofty and solemn thought: no doubt the arrangement of closing such an objectionable place as this on the Sunday, must have "added much to the morality and proper observance" of that day in the parish, by tending considerably to increase the congregation at--the public-house.

* * * * *

THE JOLLY OLD WATERMAN.

And did you ne'er hear of a jolly old Waterman Who at the cabstand used for to ply? He feathered his nest with the passenger's halfpennies, Smoking his pipe, with a drop in each eye. He looked so drunk--yet stood so steadily. The drivers all flocked to his stand so readily; And he eyed the old rogues with so knowing an air, For this Waterman knew they would cheat every fare.

What sights of gents drunk and incapable, very, He'd clean out so nice, and politely withal, As he called the first cab, when the finely-dressed victims Came staggering out from Cremorne or Vauxhall, And oftentimes would they be quizzing and queering, And 'twas all one to TOM, all this chaffing and jeering: For laughing or chaffing he little did care, For this Waterman wished but to rifle the fare.

And yet but to see how strangely things happen, As he jogged along, thinking of nothing at all, He was caught by a Cab Act so awfully stringent, That it caused all the tricks of the cab stand to fall. But would this old Waterman feel proper sorrow, For all his old tricks, and turn honest to-morrow; And should this old Waterman act with more care, He'll be licensed, and never impose on a fare.

* * * * *

THE AMERICAN CUPID.

A young lady calls MR. HOBBS, CUPID, because CUPID is LOVE, and LOVE, as the proverb says, laughs at locksmiths, and so does MR. HOBBS.

* * * * *

A CABMAN'S IDEA OF A FARE.--A cheque on a Banker.

* * * * *

* * * * *

CURE FOR THE CONSCIENCE MONEY MANIA.

Really the Conscience Money Mania is becoming quite a nuisance. Every day, almost, the _Times_ contains some such announcement as this:--

"The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER acknowledges the receipt of half-notes value £15, for unpaid Income Tax."

A good healthy conscience is the noblest point in the character of that noblest work of creation--an honest man. But a diseased conscience is as bad as a rotten potato; it is worse than no conscience at all: some degrees below mere dishonesty. This kind of conscience makes people pay omitted Income Tax. They shouldn't do so. It is really quite immoral. The Income Tax is acknowledged to be an imposition by GLADSTONE himself, insomuch that he has even made arrangements for its cessation. That it never will cease, however; that it will be as perennial as evil in the abstract, or the Deuce himself, is feared by everybody except the jolly beggars, and those who are too ignorant and helpless, or too lazy, to earn liability to its infliction. Any symptoms of acquiescence in it, of anything but dogged opposition to it, on the part of the public, will infallibly encourage Chancellors of the Exchequer to try and perpetuate it. To pay it voluntarily, to pay it at all except under protest, to pay it under any circumstances whatever but those of legal necessity, is to give Chancellors of the Exchequer that encouragement: much more to pay it in a conspicuous and ostentatious manner, at beat of drum, so to speak, as the gentleman settles his just accounts in _A New Way to Pay Old Debts_. And this is encouraging the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER to go on cheating the nation, or rather cheating part of the nation, in order to bribe the rest. It is being an accessory to the confiscation of one's own property; to defrauding one's self: whereas, surely, if suicide is the worst kind of murder, self-cozenage is the vilest sort of roguery. Therefore, we argue that the conscientiousness that pays conscience money on account of Income Tax is, as aforesaid, morbid; a diseased bump, in phrenological language, which ought to be shaved, and have ice put to it, or leeches, or cupping glasses after scarification, to be followed by a blister: recourse to these antiphlogistic measures being combined with alterative and cooling medicines.

* * * * *

A GROSS IMPOSITION.

Should the Corporation of London be "hauled over the coals" it will certainly be the heaviest burden that has yet been laid on the unfortunate coals--in spite of what they already suffer.

* * * * *

IMPORTANT TO MANUFACTURERS.--The machinery of a cotton-mill in general goes like clock-work, but this is not the case when the hands strike.

* * * * *

THE GAME IN THE EAST.

Of all the games that e'er in the world of play were hit upon, Since the ingenious "heads I win, and tails you lose," was lit upon, The most winning game by far is that now played by the CZAR With France and England--famous flats to try his wicked wit upon.

A Turkey is the stakes in the match; and who can wonder That to the wily CZAR France and England should knock under, That the honour in their hand 'gainst his tricks can never stand, When his game is all finesse, and theirs all revoke and blunder?

What marvel France and England each deal are looking graver? What marvel Russia's play grows more brilliant and braver? When, thanks to his strong club, 'ere the close of the first rub, He's the nine points of possession scored already in his favour?

When they lead off with a bow, he trumps it with a bluster; They come out with a minister, he answers with a muster; When diplomatic right meets autocratic might, The latter oft proves stronger, though the former may be juster.

Meanwhile no rook e'er plucked his pigeons with more suavity, Or pocketed his winnings with more self-denying gravity, Or ever did express more acuteness of distress At the slightest hint of cheating, or any such depravity.

And throughout, it must be owned, he has shown the utmost patience In entertaining any or all negotiations; But we argue and he acts, till our words against his facts End in landing him across the Pruth, for further operations.

* * * * *

LOGIC FOR MR. LUCAS.

Nuns are, for the most part, ladies of extreme sanctity and purity who educate large numbers of children, and do a great deal of good to the poor.

Therefore, to institute any inquiry as to their liability, under existing circumstances, to compulsory detention in their convents, to cruel punishments under the name of penance, to coercion in regard to the assignment of their property, or any other species of constraint, ill-usage, or duresse, at the hands of malicious, fanatical, or unscrupulous superiors, and ecclesiastical governors, is unnecessary and inexpedient.

* * * * *

TABLE TURNING EXTRAORDINARY.

"DEAR PUNCH,--FARADAY was regularly non-plussed by experiments at the Royal Agricultural Meeting at Gloucester. The President, Vice-President, and Honorary Secretary caused to be placed before them a large tub filled with three gallons of cream; the fingers of the three gentlemen were placed upon the rim of the tub, and in about fifteen minutes the cream began to move round until it became _solid Butter_!

"A BLACK SPIRIT."

* * * * *

SCIENCE AMONG THE SWAINS.

If there were any truth in Spirit Rapping, we should be glad if the ghost of any good old British farmer would be so kind as to rap out its ideas on the subject of an agricultural implement, for which a prize has been awarded by the Royal Agricultural Society, and which rejoices in the name of a Dynamometer. Respecting this new-fangled invention, however, it would not, perhaps, be correct to print all the expressions which the worthy but possibly rather prejudiced spirit might "rap out."

* * * * *

JEWISH DISABILITIES!

TOM DUNCOMBE thanks his stars that the Jews never can come into Parliament, as it will be a matter of impossibility for them to swallow the immense quantity of _gammon_ there is in the House.

* * * * *

WHAT "CAN" THE POLICE BE ABOUT?

A wretched creature who hangs about the _Punch_ Office thrust the following indescribable piece of nonsense under the door:

"When is the weather favourable to Haymaking? When it 'rains pitchforks.'"

There! and yet we pay a police rate of two shillings and twopence in the pound.

* * * * *

A MISTAKE IN ALL THE MAPS.

Whatever geographers may say, in order that the combined fleets may enter the Dardanelles, they must get out of the Pacific.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE LAMENT OF THE PORTSMOUTH SLOPSELLER.

Pretty Christianth! No war! Dey von't fight after all! Pretty Christianth, nice Christianth, dese nations I call Dey promith'd so fair to cut each others' throatsh, And dey're goin' to thettle de shquabble by notesh!

Not a goin' to fight!--and deir quarrel arose About deir religionth--not comin' to blows! Dere never was Christianth behaved so afore, But who's to depend on 'em now, any more?

Here'th we bin' a goin' and thtockin' our thopth, And what shall we do now wid all dem old thlopth Wid which all our thelvth and our vinders is filled-- No war, nor no actionth, nor no theamen killed?

Vat customers is dere dem vatcheth vill buy, As ve've got for the thailorth--dem vatcheth to fry? Dem jewels, rings, thatins, and thilks, all in store Agin JACK with prizemoney comin' athore?

And vere's all de monish ve thought good as made In other thmall vays of rethpectable trade, Such as lodgin' and board for de tars to provide, And p'raps a few thlight 'commodations bethide?

Dere's JACOBTH a cryin', 'cause now he von't get JACK JUNK to run head over ears in his debt, Vid his Vill and his Power, lest he shouldn't come back. By vay of insurin' de life of poor JACK.

Vot a shame o' them Christianth our hopes to ecthite, And then for to cruth 'em, and not have no fight!-- Just ven as ve'd made up our mouths for the meat-- Pretty Christianth! I thpose you don't call this no sheat!

* * * * *

THE BILL OF THE SESSION.

A more important Bill than any which has been introduced into Parliament this Session remains to be brought forward. That is, the Bill of National Expenses, including the baker's bill, which will have been incurred on account of the paper war with Russia.

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

MONDAY, MAY 27, 18--

"TOM'S a good fellow,"--said FREDERICK, when he got to bed.

"I don't want to hear anything of TOM now," said I; for suddenly I felt as if I could have--well, I don't know what; but I _did_ for the minute almost hate the man.

"He goes very early to-morrow. By the first coach, love. I've promised to see him off."

"How very kind of you, FRED;" and I could almost have cried, he seemed as if it was so easy for him to try to deceive me. "Going to see him off? Then--for it's very late; for my part, I thought the man would never go--then you'd better go to sleep, FRED; that you may be up. Otherwise you'll be very tired, dear; very tired."

"Think so?" said FRED, trying to be cool: for I knew it was only trying. "Think so?"

"I'm sure so," said I, worried and restless and vexed: not that I stirred.

"Well, then, love, good night," said FRED.

"Good night," said I, very short; though I felt as if my heart would break.

I lay and listened, with the door-key under my pillow; and my pillow well under my shoulders. That key I was determined should never leave me: I'd make sure of _that_, and I grasped it to be certain it was there. Then I listened again. He was not asleep; I was sure of that; though he lay as still as any baby, and tried to seem asleep. Very well, thought I; very well; you shall not outwake me: no--I'll watch like any owl. At least like any guardian spirit.

And to think that FRED--my own FREDERICK, with one heart between us, as he's so often said--could lie there; yes, by my very side, and have a secret and keep it from me--well, I did begin to think that dear Mamma was right; and I've heard her say she'd never trust dear Papa further than she could see him--not always that.

At last he slept.--No; he didn't. Well, I never thought he could have such art. But perhaps he suspected my thoughts; imagined I was watching him! When this entered my head, I determined to affect sleep myself; and so see which of us could do it the best.

So I settled myself and--again being sure of the key; yes, there it was--safe enough--and began to appear to go to sleep. In a little while, I had so beautifully deceived him that he was fast--fast as a church.

--It couldn't have been above five minutes, but I had dozed off; and woke with such a start!--Almost instinctively I placed my hand under the pillow; the key was safe.

"What's the matter, LOTTY? Dreaming?"--said FRED; for I had either awakened him, or he was awake all the time. "What's it about?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular," said I, "good night, love; or you'll be too late for MR. TRUEPENNY."

At the word, I thought I heard FRED sigh--just gently sigh--and the sound went like a dagger through me!

And then what a dream I'd had: and it couldn't have lasted above three--certainly not five--minutes! What a dream! Such a confusion of things! I thought I still grasped the key, and it turned in my hand to a pistol! And then I thought I dropt it on the ground, and it went hopping along like a grasshopper, popping and going off as it went. Then I thought I was resolved FRED should not get up and go out--and then I suddenly found myself tying the sleeves of his shirt in double-knots, and then emptying the water-jug into both his boots! Then I thought I went through a churchyard, and saw that odious TRUEPENNY--drest like a pantomime clown--digging a grave; and as he dug it, singing a song about spades being trumps. Then I thought FRED was suddenly by my side, and that dreadful TRUEPENNY took up a shovelful of earth, and was about to throw it, with a laugh, in the face of FRED, when I--I tried to scream, or _did_ scream, and awoke!

Oh! how I did wish we were well at home! And how I did lie--lie upon thorns and listen for him to go well to sleep, that I might creep out and learn everything of JOSEPHINE. And how I blamed myself that, before I came to bed, I didn't go and hear all she had to say!--But then I was in such a hurry to have FRED all safe, and the key in my own possession--safe under my pillow--and I thought he would so soon go to sleep, and he hadn't! Which made it plain to me that he had something on his mind: and that something--oh, how I did abominate that MR. TRUEPENNY. No; I thought to myself--as I lay awake, waiting for FRED to go off, that is, if he was going to sleep at all--no: MR. TRUEPENNY: you never enter my house. You never cross the threshold of the Flitch. A pretty friend indeed to take a man out--and that man newly married--to be shot like a sheep; and to leave a lonely, unprotected, broken-hearted--

The bitter thought was too much for me, I wept in good earnest; but cried so quietly--I was almost choked--for fear FRED, for he was _not_ asleep, should hear me! Oh, and again and again I thought, if ever we _do_ get home! What a home I'll make it! And still--and I was sure of it--still he was awake.

And then I thought, suppose he should not go to sleep at all. Suppose he should get up and--well, no matter; I was resolved: I'd get up with him. I'd go with him. I'd cling to him. I'd never leave him. I'd call assistance, constables--

And now it was broad daylight, and--yes, surely, he _was_ asleep? I listened; and I couldn't be mistaken: no, I was sure he slept. And then I rose gently--very, very gently to look, and--yes,--he was in a deep sleep. His face--that beautiful face--was white, white and hushed and still as marble! Oh, how much I seemed to learn--how much more to live in that minute--looking, looking--and he--all the time as if there was some dreadful story under that deep stillness!

I rose quietly as possible; hardly breathing. But still he slept--I was sure of that. I took the key from under my pillow. Oh, that dreadful lock! It was old and rusty, and began to creak and squeak; and I holding my breath, and almost standing upon my tiptoes trying to turn the key. At last, with a grating noise the lock turned. I passed--he was still asleep. I opened the door; and was about to pass to JOSEPHINE'S, when something whispered me, lock the door again. I did so; for I couldn't be too sure. So I locked the door--that casket-door, as I thought--for FRED lay sleeping.

Fortunately, JOSEPHINE'S door was unlocked; though--I had not time to speak of it at the moment, not but that the thought struck me at the very instant--though how a young woman could go to bed without double-locking her door I couldn't understand, although on second thoughts perhaps she had left it open for me--and JOSEPHINE fast asleep. Fast! in fact, as I said, anybody--that is, any robber--might have come in and stripped everything, and she been none the wiser. At last, by nudging and shaking I woke her.

"Murder!" she half-cried; but I put my hand before her mouth.

"Silence! you foolish creature! You needn't cry out so! It's only"--

"La!" said the girl; "I was dreaming; and you did a little startle me. I thought it was true."

"Now, JOSEPHINE! what is it? I mean about your master"--

"It wasn't him I was dreaming on, Ma'am," cried the creature.

"I should think not, indeed," said I. "Dream of your master! Like your impudence! But what I want to know is--all, all you know."

"La! Ma'am!" cried the stupid girl, rubbing her eyes, and yawning frightfully.

"I mean that note you left on my dressing-table!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, as though at last she was thoroughly awake. "Oh, ma'am, be sure you don't let master get up. Put your arms round his neck, if you almost choke him--but don't let him get up."

"Why not?" I cried.

"He's going to fight; with pistols. One of--that is, I've been told all about it; but not time enough to tell you. Master would have fought yesterday, only it was Sunday, so he went to church instead. MR. TRUEPENNY has come, like a friend, all the way from London, to see fair play; but don't you let him get up, Ma'am, pray don't"--

"Fight! And with whom?"

"Don't know exactly, Ma'am; but that doesn't matter. One may be as bad as another. But you're sure master's safe, for he was to go out early, as I heard?"

"I've locked the door; and he shall not stir. If he attempts it, I'll raise the house!" said I.

"Do, Ma'am," cried JOSEPHINE, "and I'll help you."

I returned to my apartment with new resolution. I unlocked the door; crept into the room, and without looking again locked it; taking out the key, and hugging it close. I stept softly towards the bed. FREDERICK was not there! I looked round--the sash was raised. He had escaped through the window.

All I know is, I gave a shriek and fell fainting upon the bed!

* * * * *

THE WOMAN'S ELEVATION LEAGUE.

The March of Intellect will eventually stride onwards in "seven-leagued boots," for there is every now and then some new league claiming to give a forward impetus to humanity. The last new league is calculated to carry us many miles in advance of everything we have yet approached, for it is no other than a "Woman's Elevation League." Every league of this description contains several acres--commonly called wise-acres--and though no names are given in the "prospectus," we dare say we should meet with several "old familiar faces," if we could fall in with the committee, and that we should recognise among the members not a few of those professed friends of "progress," who are always making a hash of something or other, and eventually falling out among themselves in the name of "universal harmony." The "Woman's Elevation League" professes of course to give Woman a tremendous hoist in one shape or another. We confess that our own ideas of the Elevation of Woman are not particularly definite, but are divided between MADAME POITEVIN in a balloon, and MADEMOISELLE GELLINI making her "terrific ascent" at Cremorne to the top of a pasteboard tower amidst a "brilliant display of fireworks." Possibly this is not the sort of "elevation" contemplated by the "league" in question for the female sex, though it is evidently designed to place Woman occasionally at the top of a poll; for it is contemplated that she shall take her seat in Parliament. We have been in the habit of thinking that women are very well as they are, but the "League" is desirous of making her a doctor, a trader, an artist, a politician, and a minister. The League thinks she does not "embrace" half enough; but we are modestly of opinion that a woman's embraces should be confined to her own family circle as closely as possible.

It would be impossible for any "League," however purely benevolent its objects may be, to proceed without subscriptions, and accordingly all ladies who wish to get "elevated" are requested to send "one shilling" as a preliminary step towards the happy state alluded to. Any lady may, however, become qualified for "elevation" for life by a contribution of five guineas--a sum so large, that we think few women who take a sober view of matters in general will like to part with it. We have reasons of our own for thinking that the "elevation" of Woman would be a dangerous step, for a woman when once "put up" is not easily put down again.

* * * * *

THE KENSINGTON BUS-MEN.

It would be a great convenience to the public if somebody would undertake the task of issuing a daily guide to apprise us of the fluctuations in the fares of a Kensington Omnibus. The price of shares, and the value of the funds are steadiness itself to the ups and downs of the fares demanded by the Kensington conductors; who frequently vary one hundred per cent. from the morning to the afternoon in their claims on the pockets of passengers. We can compare the fluctuations of the Kensington fares to nothing but the daily changes in the price of fish or other perishable commodities. On the day of the Cab strike the Kensington and other Bus-men brought out their fares at much higher quotations; but the public kept aloof, and very few passengers were "done" at the increased prices. It is some satisfaction to feel that after October these "tricks upon travellers" by the savage Bus-men of the West will be impossible, as the Police Commissioners will fix the fares, and one may then leave home in the morning with some confidence that after having paid a fair price to go into town, it will not be necessary to pay double the sum to get back again by the same conveyance.

* * * * *

A COOL DOG.

GENERAL FOX complains to the _Times_ that the Great Northern refused to forward a setter, which he wished to send to Newcastle-on-Tyne, unless the dog was packed in a hamper. This precautionary stipulation, though rather vexatious, was not unreasonable, perhaps, in the dog-days: but when the Company required that the dog should be packed in a hamper, they might as well have also insisted on having him packed in ice.

* * * * *

PEDESTRIANISM EXTRAORDINARY.--The Cab Strike was no joke, although it was all WALKER.

* * * * *

THE NEW CAB ACT.

MADE FOR THE BETTER REGULATION OF PERSONS WHO RIDE IN CABS, AND FOR THE BETTER PROTECTION OF THOSE WHO DRIVE THEM.

(_Being the kind of Act that Cabmen would wish to have._)

This Bill will shortly be printed. The following are some of its most important provisions:--

The Cabman shall have the option of accepting a fare or not, just as he pleases, and he may charge, either by time or distance, precisely as he likes. If he has travelled a long distance, then he is to have the power of charging according to the number of miles, but if he has only been a short journey, and he has taken a long time in going over it, in that case the Cabman is to be allowed the privilege of charging by the hour.

Any Cabman, fancying he has gone quite far enough--and Cabmen know best for themselves how far they can go--may suddenly stop, and insist upon his fare alighting, no matter at what distance the latter may be from his destination.

The rate of speed to be regulated by the Cabman himself, as it depends entirely upon what kind of horse he has got, and whether he has engaged his fare by time or distance.

In the event of the fare making any complaint, or neglecting to pay at once the full sum demanded of him, the Cabman is empowered to drive him to the nearest station-house, and to have the matter investigated. If in the wrong, the Cabman may have him fined for incivility, the penalty whereof shall be a sum not exceeding five pounds, and not less than five shillings; or, at the discretion of the magistrate, imprisonment, with or without hard labour, in the House of Correction, for a term not less than two calendar months.

Any person refusing to give his card, or to be quietly carried to the station-house, or convicted of having used insulting or disrespectful language against a Cabman, to be liable to a heavy fine, not exceeding £50, one-half of which is to go to the QUEEN, and the other half to the Cabman, or an imprisonment as above; and the person so condemned is further to find two sureties to keep the peace for six months.

Any person convicted of two such offences is to be deprived for ever of the privilege of riding in a public cab.

The rate of payment to be two shillings for the first mile, and as much as the Cabman likes to charge for every mile after that.

The above rate to be materially increased, if a person is going in a hurry to a railway, or is returning home late at night, and also on all special occasions, such as QUEEN'S Birthdays, Easter and Whitsun Mondays, Horticultural and Botanical _Fête_ days, and all illumination nights, and likewise at all times when it should happen to be hailing, snowing, or raining.

In the event of a dispute as to distance, the ground to be measured at the expense of the person disputing the Cabman's word, and a sum of two pounds to be paid into Court as a guarantee of the result thereof.

Clause the Thirteenth enacts that, in all matters of dispute, whether the Cabman shall be proved to be right or wrong, he is to be paid his expenses, and a certain sum, not less than five shillings, for his loss of time.

Every person, beyond two, to be charged at the rate of a separate fare.

Luggage to be charged according to weight, at the same rates demanded by the Parcels' Delivery Company.

Back Fare to be paid on all occasions, and to be doubled after twelve o'clock.

By the next Clause it is enacted, that ladies are to be charged one-half as much again as gentlemen (this clause has been objected to as being rather stringent, and oppressively severe, but when it is considered the trouble that ladies give, and how they always object to pay what a Cabman asks of them, and how they always keep the Cabman waiting, with their useless arguments and frivolous complaints, it is but right that the Cabman should be protected against all such contigencies, and be allowed something extra for his unfeeling waste of time).

Babies, if taken, to be charged each as a separate fare, or else weighed as luggage, according to the option of the Cabman.

In no case is the fare to have the power of appeal against the Magistrate's decision.

There are several minor clauses, but we think we have shown enough of the New Cab Act to prove that if only one-half of it is carried out, we shall have not only the Cabmen better protected, but also a better and more respectable class of riders in cabs.

* * * * *

THE CABALISTIC NUMBER.--This number is 6, with a small "_d_" placed on the right hand side, over the top of it; meaning that the price for riding in a Cab is now Sixpence a mile.

* * * * *

LATEST FROM THE CAPE.--A proposal has been under consideration in the magnetic circles here, to form an expedition for the purpose of moving Table Bay.

* * * * *

OUR MUDDY METROPOLIS.

LORD PALMERSTON at a recent City dinner good-humouredly twitted the Corporation on their dirt, and playfully threw the Thames in the face of the citizens. The Home Secretary, with a pleasant mixture of urbanity and satire, entreated the aid of the Londoners in consuming their own smoke, and absorbing their own mud, with a view to the filtration of their own river. We suppose his Lordship fancied the City Corporation might correct the City dirt; as one poison is said to dispel another, on the principle of _similia similibus_. We fear the Home Secretary fails to see with his usual clearness when he looks at the Thames as a sort of mirror which is only labouring under a temporary obfuscation, but which is capable of being restored to that translucent state which, according to the poets, formerly belonged to it. The Thames is one of those enormities which none of us can ever hope to see the bottom of.

* * * * *

BEWARE! BEWARE! BEWARE!

(_Being the Experience of a very Old Man._)

Beware of listening to a man who says he "will not detain you five minutes."

Beware of purchasing wine at an auction, which is described as "late the property of a nobleman who has gone to live upon the Continent."

Beware, if you are in a hurry, of getting into an empty omnibus.

Beware of a shop that deals in "AWFUL FAILURES!"

Beware of mentioning the name of Ireland in the presence of an Irishman.

Beware of interfering in any quarrel--more particularly a matrimonial one.

Beware of marrying a woman who has "great expectations."

Beware of short cuts, when you are travelling; of playing with a man who knows a trick or two at cards; of buying a horse of a friend; of living near a firework-gallery; above all, beware of putting your name on a stamped piece of paper, as much as you would beware of steel-traps and spring guns, or of putting your fingers in the fire.

* * * * *

ROSES OF SHARON FOR AUSTRALIA.

We are pleased to learn that MRS. CHISHOLM--(she is to have a formal interview of HER MAJESTY, we understand, before departure)--is about to take in her own ship, the _Caroline Chisholm_, no less than twenty young maiden Jewesses, resolved to emigrate to Australia for the noblest and most humanising of purposes. These damsels--should matrimony be their fate--have every hope that they shall be enabled to win their gold-digging husbands from an unceasing pursuit of the root of evil, teaching them that, after all, gold is only the dross of life, and that there is nothing like virtuous love and contented poverty. These young enthusiasts have made quite a sensation in the Minories; and one speculative Hebrew has already offered them very handsome terms to exhibit themselves. Several entire Jewish families have already emigrated to the diggings. None of them, it was observed, had pickaxes; but all had scales.

* * * * *

A COAGULATED HORDE.

In connexion with the Eastern question, it may be remarked that the Kurds appear to be a very savage murderous race; and that Kurds like these can hardly be supposed to be made of the milk of human kindness.

* * * * *

THE HEIGHT OF IMPOSSIBILITY (AT PRESENT).--"To make hay while the sun shines."

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE CABMAN AND HIS GOOD AND EVIL REPORT.

The Reporter of the celebrated Bow Street Cab Case has written to the _Times_ and to us (our letter is sealed with the official seal of the Court) to contradict the contradiction which was given in the House of Commons to his report of the case of PHILLIPS the cabman, who would not or could not put down five shillings for measuring the distance of a fare with respect to which he was charged with an overcharge.

The Reporter appeals to our sense of justice--a tribunal to which nobody ever appealed in vain; but we cannot see that any injustice has been done, and therefore the appeal can only meet with a dismissal. The Reporter and the Magistrate are at issue in their statements of what took place, but the former's contradiction of the latter had not been published when our article was at press; and, had it been, we certainly see no reason why we should believe one party to the discredit of the other. That reporters are fallible we know by the frequency with which their inaccuracies are corrected; and we fear the Reporter in question is capable of making a mistake, for he informs us that "years ago" his "Bow Street reports led to the dismissal of a very incompetent magistrate" (which may be possible), "and to the appointment of MR. HENRY as his successor," which is utterly incredible. We need not waste words in pointing out the absurdity of the assumption that the report of what was being done by a magistrate at one court, could in the smallest degree conduce to the appointment of any other magistrate, though the publicity given to any improper acts of the former might lead to his dismissal.

In conclusion, we have only to say that the Magistrate gives one version of the affair, and the Reporter gives another. Neither magistrates nor reporters are infallible, and we must therefore leave the public to decide for themselves which of the two has, on this occasion, been accurate. The Reporter lays some stress--and with some show of reason--on the alleged fact, that his statement of the case is supported by a note in the minute-book kept by the clerk, and pried into, as it seems, rather unceremoniously by the Reporter; but if a magistrate is liable to err, it is possible that his clerk may be capable of error. Having performed an act of justice, by recording the protest of the Reporter against the impeachment of his accuracy, which we noticed last week, we have done with the subject.

A learned Assistant Judge, while trying a boy for stealing a pudding, summed up thus:--"Here's the pudding; up pops the boy, off goes the pudding, and after him goes the policeman. You've got the boy, the pudding, and the policeman before you, and now, Gentlemen of the Jury, consider your verdict." In like manner, we say to the public, "You have got the report, the Reporter, and the Magistrate before you; therefore, Gentlemen of England, consider your verdict."

* * * * *

BAD BEER WITH A GOOD NAME.

From the report of a recent case in the Rolls Court, it appears that some rogues have been putting damaged Prestonpans Ale into bottles labelled with the names of MESSRS. BASS and MESSRS. ALLSOPP, and selling the stuff under these false titles "at fairs and races." We suspect that this trick is too common. You meet, occasionally, with beer thus labelled, by which, no doubt, those firms are libelled; for it is a libel on respectable brewers to impute bad beer to them: and the sort of bitter beer we allude to is bitter bad. We call it beer, indeed; but we no more believe that it is made of malt and hops than that it is brewed by ALLSOPP or by BASS, whose names appear on the bottles it is sold in, but, to give a correct idea of their contents, ought to be altered to BASE and ALLSLOP.

* * * * *

"TIME WAS MADE FOR SLAVES."

The present policy of NICHOLAS is an illustration of the truth of this. For all he wants for Russians is time; a commodity that our Cabinet seems disposed to allow any quantity of.

* * * * *

SHEAR IMPUDENCE.--Following from street to street a poor foreigner with a long beard, and persecuting him to buy a pair of razors.

* * * * *

THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE IN WANT OF A CAB.

SCENE.--_The Great Western Railway Station on the morning of Wednesday, July 27th. A Train has just arrived, bringing_, inter alios et alias, THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE, _with her usual moderate but miscellaneous accumulation of luggage, consisting of a hair-trunk profusely brass-lettered, and without the slightest lifting appliance in the way of handles; a cubical black box, with a convex top, very apt to give way (like its mistress) on slight provocation, and trusting much for support to a net-work of curiously knotted cordage; an oblong contrivance of wicker-work and oilskin, like a chicken-basket in a tarpaulin overcoat; a flower-pot, with a balsam in full blow; a basket, much too small for its work; four distinct parcels, of respectable dimensions and irregular form, two in brown paper, one in a newspaper, and the fourth securely sewed up in huckaback; a large stone bottle of real mushroom ketchup; a pair of strong shoes, which having obstinately refused to enter the hair-trunk, have been brought up by hand; an aged, but still expansive, carpet-bag, bursting with its contents; a bonnet-box and an umbrella, with a parasol and a camp-stool. As the Scene opens_, THE UNPROTECTED _is discovered in the act of reclaiming and gathering about her, with her usual distractedness, these her goods and chattels, as they are landed from the Luggage-Van, in the midst of a crowd of all ages, sexes, and conditions, occupied in the same way. The Porters have an embarrassed air, and not a Cab is to be seen on the Stand. Sharp-witted Passengers, who have rushed off to secure "first Cab," stand bewildered on the edge of the Platform. Ladies are huddled helplessly together, ruefully surveying their baggage. Indignant individuals are asking questions; and the possession of every inch of room in two fortunate Omnibuses is being fiercely contested, with very little regard to the route about to be taken by these vehicles._

_Indignant Gentleman (who has a habit of constituting himself the stern representative of Public Opinion)._ No Cabs! Halloa!--Stationmaster--Guard--Hi--you Sir--Here; what's the meaning of this?

_Station Officer (respectfully, but sadly)._ Cabs struck, Sir, I'm sorry to say.

_Hopeless Lady (who has a happy faculty of seeing the worst at a glance)._ Oh! I was sure something dreadful would happen.

_Indignant Gentleman._ Cabs struck? What the devil! eh--d'ye mean to tell me--struck!

_Officer._ Not a Cab to be had all over London!

_Indignant Gentleman (whom the unhappy passengers have already begun to look up to, so imposing is his manner)._ Here's a pretty state of things--the blackguards! But they're punishable. They're bound to ply for hire--it's illegal.

_Officer._ Can't say, Sir. But they've done it, any way.

[INDIGNANT GENTLEMAN _delivers a withering Philippic against the Executive in general, and_ MR. FITZROY _in particular, which is respectfully received by the Passengers, but does not excite much attention from the Railway Officials, whom he threatens violently with damages to a large amount_. THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE, _who has heard the preceding dialogue, seems stupefied. She has not uttered even a cry or an exclamation, but sits helpless and hopeless, amidst a barricade of her luggage_.

_Practical Man (who has hitherto said nothing, but heard everything,--to a Porter.)_ Can I get a man to carry my luggage?

_1st Porter._ We'll carry on it all outside the Station, Sir; there's men there--

_2nd Porter (shouldering a mountain of Portmanteaus)._ And wehicles--

_3rd Porter (upheaving a similar load, and half to himself)._ Sich as they is.

[_The Porters have by this time arrived at the luggage of_ THE UNPROTECTED, _who still sits as if crushed by the blow_.

_Cheery Porter._ Now, Marm; jest sit up off the trunk, will ye--

_The Unprotected (suddenly awaking to a sense of her desolation)._ Oh!--where?

_Cheery Porter._ Anyvheres, ma'am; only let me ketch a hold. Now, JEM.

[_Her luggage is appropriated by the united efforts of two Porters, who are bearing it off._

_Unprotected Female (vaguely following and clutching at the load.)_ Oh!--but where to? You never can--it's to 38, Great Coram Street--and there's bottles in the bag,--by the name of JONES. Oh--please--couldn't you--

_Cheery Porter._ All right, 'M. You'll p'raps get a trap outside. This way, Ma'am--it's all right.

SCENE _changes to exterior of Station. Here the full extent of the Metropolitan calamity is apparent. Amidst the stranded packages of the day's arrivals, are seen heaped together the exhausted Passengers sitting, lying, or standing about, among, and upon them, like shipwrecked sailors amidst the débris of a lee-shore. Crowds of Cabmen, in various stages of intoxication, are gathered together, triumphing in the desolation they have made. A miscellaneous collection of vehicles of all descriptions is vainly endeavouring to supply the place of Cabs, and an impression is being slowly made on the piles of luggage. The Conveyances include most things on wheels--from a costermonger's truck with the smallest of donkeys, to a battered old Sheriff's carriage drawn by two large cart-horses. Chaff abounds, as might be expected_.

_Cabman in Box Coat_ (_To_ INDIGNANT GENTLEMAN, _who with much dignity has just deposited his luggage in a costermonger's cart, after reiterated threats of legal vengeance on the Company_.) Ollo! Guv'nor--ow's greens?

[INDIGNANT GENT _retorts by a withering look, but wisely abstains from a reply_.

_Cabman (in fustian jacket and ditto)._ Here's your hout-an-hout accommodation--Sixpence a mile--ho!

_Cabman in velveteen (pointing to a wheelbarrow, to which is consigned the luggage of a despairing mother, including three babies)._ Hall alive, oh! alive, oh! Pen--ny--win--kles--hall alive, oh!

_Cabman (in dress coat, with straw-band to his hat)._ Wot'll you take for the babbies, Marm?

_Waterman (in clogs and maudlin)._ Ax MUSTER FITZROY to step up, some on yer, and look at this 'ere.

_Chorus of Cabmen (with prolonged howl of execration)._ Y--a--a--h!

_Satirical Cabman_ (_to_ ARISTOCRATIC OLD GENTLEMAN, _who has just ascended a small, but highly unctuous butcher's cart, in a state of concentrated bitterness_). Heasy over the stones with that 'ere cat's-meat, Butcher.

_Aristocratic Old Gentleman (starting up in the cart)._ What's that you say, you blackguard?

_Chorus of Cabmen._ Cat's-meat--cat's-meat!

[THE ARISTOCRATIC OLD GENTLEMAN _retires from the unequal contest, and allows his pride to fall with his fortunes_.

_Driver of Butcher's Cart._ Where to, Sir?

_Aristocratic Old Gentleman._ 115, Eaton Square. No--stop at 110.

_Satiric Cabman._ Mind you ring the hairy bell, old feller--Cat's-meat!

_Bitter Cabman._ And mind yer, if he stops to call at the Pallis, it's sixpence for hevery kervarter you waits--Butcher.

_Chorus of Cabmen (saluting the departure of the butcher's cart)._ Ya--a--ah! Cow Cross--Sharpe's Alley! Ya--ah!

[_At this moment appears the Luggage of_ THE UNPROTECTED, _followed by her disconsolate self. She is hailed by the Cabmen._

_1st Cabman._ Ollo--Marm--you've forgotten your pattings.

_2nd Cabman._ And there ain't no Cabs--'acos we're a takin' it hairystercratic, we are!

_Cheery Porter (tumbling down the luggage)._ Now--Ma'am--if you look sharp--you'll soon get a carriage--I dessay.

_Unprotected Female._ Oh, but couldn't you help me--if you please!

_1st Cabman (delighted with her distress)._ Here's furnitur! First floor to let with the sticks! What d'ye ask a week, Marm--for the use of the flower-pot?

_Unprotected Female._ Oh--how can you--man? Oh--will somebody call something. It's 38, Great Coram Street, by the name of JONES--and I'll pay anything!

_Bitter Cabman._ Oh, no--you mustn't go out o' the Hact! Sixpence a mile and no back fare--that's the ticket!

_3rd Cabman._ Wans kept--and goods carefully removed!

_Treacherous Cabman (in a tone of pretended sympathy)._ There you are, Marm!

_Unprotected Female._ Oh--thank you--where?

_Treacherous Cabman (calling a water-cart which is laying the dust)._ Here, Force-pump--lady to take hup!

_Satiric Cabman._ And a reasonable quantity of luggage--_wide_ the hact!

_Unprotected Female (simply)._ Oh--but I can't ride in a water-cart!

_Satiric Cabman._ Thort you might like it this 'ot weather, Marm.

_Polite Cabman._ So werry refreshin'--and you looks 'eated, Marm.

_Unprotected Female._ Oh--if you wouldn't--

_Polite Cabman._ Could I hoffer hany refreshment, Marm.

_Treacherous Cabman._ A little 'ot heel-soup, Marm--or a penn'orth o' winkles!

_Unprotected Female._ Oh--if it was only a wheelbarrow!

[_The_ UNPROTECTED _sinks in despair upon the pile. The Cabmen surround her in fierce exultation. Crowds of wrecked passengers and piles of luggage slowly accumulate around her, and gradually conceal her from the eye. A feeble plaint is occasionally heard to ascend from the recesses of the heap._ SCENE _closes_.

* * * * *

A COUP DE SOLEIL. The most remarkable illustration of "high Art," is presented by the Sun in his character of a Photographist; and indeed he may be regarded as _par excellence_ the rising artist of the day.

* * * * *

WANTED (during the Cab-strike), A ROOMY WHEELBARROW, capable of accommodating a Member of Parliament on the rising of the House Address, COLONEL SIBTHORP. No Free-Trader need apply.

* * * * *

A NEW CHAPTER IN THE ROMANCE OF KING ARTHUR.

_Showing how the Round Table moved of its own accord, and of the terrible Adventure of the Rapping Spirits, and how_ SIR LANCELOT _took upon him the quest of a Medium._

Lordings, who a milder folly than your fathers knew have found, And, where they had pushed the bottle, only push the table round; Gentle (ay, and simple) Ladies, who, when Rapping Spirits come To relieve the weary, dreary tedium of the rout or drum, Rapt in admiration listen, half in wonder, half in fear, Lest there should be "something wicked" mingled with a sport so dear; Sages, who, with show of reason, 'gainst all reason can discourse Of ideo-motor systems, motive wills, and vital force; Dupes of every age and clime, whate'er your station, sex, or years, Lend me all your strength of credence, all your wondrous length of ears, Whilst of things that in the old time in KING ARTHUR'S court befel, Till his very table moved, a veritable tale I tell.

Good KING ARTHUR had a custom, whence he swerved not in the least, That the morn should bring the tourney, and the noon should bring the feast, For he knew his knights, aye ready for the battle or the board, Were as prompt with knife and cleaver as with battle-axe and sword, With the same good will would carve a haunch and cut a foeman down, And with equal satisfaction crack a marrow-bone or crown; Or with smiles and winks would bid them listen to the nasal tune Of the King, who dozed--"_his_ custom always of an afternoon." Thus in Camelot around the great loo table in the hall Just thrice fifty knights were daily ranged by KAYE the Seneschal, Whilst KING ARTHUR in the centre of the table took his seat, That he might the better notice if his knights were off their meat. 'Twas a sultry day in summer: e'en the castle's massive walls Could not keep the heat from out the lofty corridors and halls: Open were the doors and windows (partly for the sake of air, Partly that the baser people might behold them dining there, For in high baronial state but little pleasure would there be If a crowd of reverential paupers were not there to see),

And the sunlight, pouring through them, on the shining armour gleamed Gleamed on all the banners bright that over every chieftain streamed, Gleamed upon the golden flagons, and the monarch's flashing sword Laid before him, and his silver beard down flowing on the board. Floating in there came a murmur, of the trees that whispered near, Of the river babbling to the reeds in accents low but clear, Of the birds, and of sweet silver voices from the green alcove, Where GINEVRA and her maidens prattled of their champions' love. Silent were the knights, and in that happy meditative mood, Which an ample meal induces, each his brother warriors viewed, Thus they sat, and each upon the table laid his brawny hand, Idly musing, till SIR TOR, the youngest of the mighty band, Crying, "Why, the table's moving!" pressed against SIR DINADAN Sitting next him, and impelled him gently towards the good KING BAN. BAN on BORS, and BORS on PELLES, PELLES on SIR GARETH leant; GARETH, bending over GAWAIN, GAWAIN over TRISTREM bent; Thus as each, from each escaping, other upon other drove, All, in what logicians call a vicious circle, 'gan to rove, And the table, twirling with them, seemed to each excited mind, Though they pushed it on beside them, to be leaving them behind. Fast and faster flew the table; faster every champion flew, Till the swords, the helms, the banners, flagons, dishes, faces too, Merged in one vast whirling body, many-hued and globiform, (Like an old Cartesian whirlwind, or a rotatory storm), With KING ARTHUR in the centre, twirling in his royal chair, And his great beard like a pennon streaming on the troubled air. So till now they had been whirling, puffing, stamping, night and day: But SIR ECTOR tripping, stumbled suddenly on proud SIR KAYE: As the first impulsive push went, so the fall went circling round, Till the knights, each prone on each like cards, lay panting on the ground. "Certes!" said the good KING ARTHUR, soon as he had breath to speak, And had wiped the dust from off his draggled beard and pallid cheek, "Certes! These be great adventures, such as I remember not, Ever since the death of MERLIN, to have come to Camelot; One 'Seat Perilous' he fashioned, when he framed this board for me; But, if thus it takes to moving, perilous each seat will be. Doth its wild unwonted motion then portend some dire mishap? Doth some hidden danger threaten to our crown?"--A sudden rap Low but clear within the wall the monarch's wise discourse broke down Saying, plain as rap _could_ say, "A rap is threatened to thy crown." "Perdy!" said the startled monarch. "What strange visitant thus shocks All our ears at such a moment? It must be the ghost of--" Knocks Two or three upon the wall came, ere "of MERLIN," he could say. Then SIR LANCELOT stepped before him, as the echoes died away. "If a knight should fly from knocks, 'twould surely be a parlous shame," Said he. "Wherefore to accomplish this adventure I shall claim. I will take my horse and spear and journey down to Caer Lud, Where 'LINETTE, the damsel sauvage,'[1] dwells beside the Fleet's clear flood; All the meaning of this marvel she shall tell, and let me see All the glories of the future, and the wonders that shall be. Ho! Sir Butler, bring me quickly four men's shares of wine and meat, That, as much as may suffice me for my journey, I may eat." Seemed to him, as forth he journeyed, that the land was passing strange; Was it sooth, or was it glamour that had worked so great a change? For the moorland and the woodland, where with horse, and hound, and horn, He had chased the boar and aurochs, glowed with summer's ripening corn; At the well known fording-places stately bridges stemmed the tide, Turnpikes, 'stead of knights or giants, barred his way on either side; Feeble women, damp and dingy, for a trifle came to show All the ruins of the castles he had kept with many a blow; And where cross-roads met, and where the best adventures once had been, Whitewashed sign-posts bade him turn to Frogmore Pound, or Pogis Green. Now and then athwart his course came, with a rumble and a scream, Green and golden creatures, glaring fierce, and breathing fire and steam, Seemed that each was dragging on a thousand victims at the least: "By my knighthood," quoth SIR LANCELOT, "this must be 'the questing beast;' Something rusty have I grown by dwelling there at peace so long, For ever eating of the fat, and ever drinking of the strong, Yet with stout and knightly valour I shall dress me to the fight;" But, before his lance was couched, "the questing beast" was out of sight. So he journeyed till, one evening, from the hill-top looking down-- As the setting sun in gold and crimson bathed the mighty town-- All the spires, and masts, and towers (that seemed as they had lent the skies Gauds from London's wealth to deck them) flashed upon his wond'ring eyes. "This adventure," said SIR LANCELOT, "I may scarcely understand," So he wisely brought his good sword closer to his strong right hand. To "LINETTE the damsel Sauvage" who abode on Ludgate Hill, He arrived at length by dint of wondrous toil and care and skill; In a four-pair back she dwelt, and it was noted on her door, That she held "_mesmeriques séances_" every afternoon at four. Seemed that she was greatly altered from the blooming girl who brought Fair Dame LYONS and SIR GARETH home to Royal ARTHUR'S Court-- She whose witchcraft (witch they called her) in her beauty seemed to lie; Red, but not with bloom, her cheek was; bright, but not with health, her eye, And her mouth, whose slightest smile had won the hearts of ARTHUR'S train, By its pale thin lips' quick tremor half confessed the inward pain. Much she laughed, when LANCELOT told her what had brought him to her door, And how ARTHUR'S famous knights had sprawled upon the sandy floor. "Though," said she, "my quick clairvoyant spirit saw the merry scene, And I heard you ask each other what the mystic raps might mean; So I cast a glamour round you, that your dazzled eyes might see All the glories of the future, and the wonders that shall be. Ask not why the table moved or what the mystic raps may be; Marvels, such as these, we Media can't explain without a fee; But be sure, these things that fright thee in the future shall not fail To avenge thee on the men who'll deem _thy_ fame an idle tale. Though the men of future ages you and yours shall despise, They shall not be wholly prescient, and not altogether wise; Some defect, to prove them human, shall their brightest plans deface; Follies worthy of the weakest, shall the wisest age disgrace; And as if _some_ superstition still the human brain _must_ bother, They shall but shake off one folly to be taken with another, So that those, who all the tales of ARTHUR as mere lies reprove, Shall believe his great round table by his knights' mere will could move."

As she spoke the glamour faded, and SIR LANCELOT saw the moor And the woodland stretching out for many a league his road before; Many a sign of knoll and headland marked an old familiar spot, So, upon the vision musing, back he rode to Camelot.

[Footnote 1:] This historical personage was apparently the first landlady of the Belle Sauvage.

* * * * *

FRIENDS OF CABMANITY.

SIR ROBERT INGLIS, LORD DUDLEY STUART, and MR BONHAM CARTER are to be congratulated on the highly respectable lifehold residence which, it appears, they have acquired. They are to dwell, conjointly, in the hearts of the cab-owners, where, let us hope, they will not quarrel: especially as MR. BRIGHT is to be their fellow-tenant. On Wednesday evening last, at a meeting of that worthy proprietary, convened for the purpose of asserting the principle of extortion against the Legislature, a man named BEADLE, who proposed a shilling a mile fares, is reported to have said:--

"The gentlemen who sat at the Cranbourn Hotel had endeavoured to show the Government that they could not live under the law, but they had met few friends in the House, except SIR R. INGLIS, LORD D. STUART, and MR. BONHAM CARTER, whose names, he hoped, would never be effaced from their memories. (_Cheers, and cries of_ 'MR. BRIGHT.') Yes, MR. BRIGHT had spoken for them, but he had only met sneers and jeers from those very men who now said that changes must be made in the bill before they came to work it."

Some people value any kind of popularity. MR. BRIGHT may exult in the shouts of the least respectable Manchester people. LORD DUDLEY STUART may like to be cheered by the baser sort of Marylebonians. MR. BONHAM CARTER may rejoice in the huzzas of the lowest classes of the population at Winchester. SIR ROBERT INGLIS may be elated with the applause of the inferior portion of the inhabitants of Ratcliff Highway. If they do, they will be proud of the position they occupy in the good graces of the proprietors of dirty cabs, miserable horses, and abusive, rapacious fellows.

It must be rather flattering to Church Dignitaries to observe what company they are in, as eulogists and admirers of the Honourable Member for Oxford. The fact itself is not wonderful; for cab fares as they were, and episcopal incomes as they are, are things not very dissimilar, except in having been eightpence a mile on the one hand, and being from five to twenty thousand pounds per annum and upwards on the other.

* * * * *

RECOVERY FROM THE CABMEN'S STRIKE.

(_To the Editor of "Punch"._)

"SIR,

"Permit me to relate the particulars of my wonderful recovery of the use of my limbs, and consequent restoration to health. I was afraid the strike of the Cabmen yesterday would have been a great blow to me. I found that I had to walk three miles to my office. Sir, I expected that exertion to be my death. I have been for years a sufferer from indigestion, occasioning an unpleasant emptiness before meals, and an oppressive fulness afterwards, and attended by headache, giddiness, dimness of sight, shortness of breath, and other premonitory symptoms of apoplexy. I have been bled and cupped, and have taken all sorts of medicine; made my stomach a regular doctor's shop, and not only that but a College of Vegetable Pills and a HOLLOWAY'S Depôt. Under these circumstances, I should never have dreamt of walking three miles, if I had not been obliged to do it. I did it, though. It exhausted me a little. It threw me into a perspiration. But, sir, it gave me an appetite for my dinner such as I had not experienced for years. I ate and drank heartily; I had not enjoyed anything so much since I don't know when; and after an unusually ample indulgence in the pleasures of the table, I sunk into a refreshing slumber, which I understand was unaccompanied by stertorous breathing. Sir, I shall continue to walk to my office--whereby I shall invigorate my frame, improve my appetite, save Cab-hire certainly, avoid liability to extortion and insolence, and lose some of the weight without any of the importance of

"A CITIZEN."

"_Hermitage_," _Clapham, July_ 28, 1853.

* * * * *

MOVEMENTS IN (CELESTIAL) HIGH LIFE.

We are informed, by our fashionable reporter, that a _suite_ of apartments on the first floor have just been bespoken at MIVART'S Hotel for the EMPEROR OF CHINA.

* * * * *

THE DISSATISFIED CREATURES!--Cabmen should not complain of being paid at the rate of sixpence a mile; for, look at some of our best Panoramas, they only charge a Shilling--and they are generally "three miles long."

* * * * *

* * * * *

PETITION FROM THE MEDICAL PROFESSION.

"_To the Right Hon. the House of Commons:_

"The Petition of the undersigned sheweth,

"That your Petitioners are members of the medical profession, and earn their living by the sale of pills, plaisters, boluses, black draughts, blisters, powders, and similar commodities, which are administered or applied to persons suffering from sickness, indigestion, bile, lowness of spirits, drunkenness, dissipation, and general debility.

"That your Petitioners are deeply interested in the condition of the working classes of great cities--who toil through excessive hours of labour, and dwell in close, unwholesome habitations. Your Petitioners have ever found their largest and most valuable practice among this class of the community--and continue to do so, notwithstanding the miserable and abortive attempts of Government, and of weak-minded enthusiasts, to interfere with their trade--by improving, 'as it is called,' the dwellings of the poor, and preaching against bad drainage, dirt, and drunkenness.

"Your Petitioners view with alarm and indignation the proposed desecration of the Sunday, by opening the Crystal Palace and its grounds, at Sydenham, to the people of London; and cannot but express their conviction that it would lead to the infliction of serious loss on the profession of which they are members.

"Your Petitioners humbly call the attention of your Honourable House to the fact that they derive a very considerable revenue from the following sources, all of which are threatened to be diminished by the increase of parks, pleasure gardens, and conservatories for the working classes.

"First, From fevers and other diseases generated by heated and impure atmosphere; from which even one day's escape in seven may tend to relieve the present dwellers in the dark courts and alleys of London.

"Secondly, From adulterated gin and British brandy, which are consumed in vast quantities by a large portion of the aforesaid dwellers in dark places, who seek in these stimulants some little excitement during their brief repose from the daily labour of life.

"Lastly, From broken heads, bruises, black eyes, &c., all of which require a considerable amount of medical treatment, 'both in the hospitals and out,' on Monday mornings.

"Your Petitioners forbear to enter into the religious portion of the argument, as they do not exactly remember the text in the New Testament which forbids the walking in corn-fields, or gardens, or conservatories on the Sunday; but your Petitioners are of opinion that your Honourable House ought to preserve these privileges as heretofore for Earls, Bishops, and wealthy members of your Honourable House, who can afford to keep gardens and conservatories at their private expense.

"Your Petitioners therefore pray your Honourable House to protect '_their native industry_'--by keeping the doors of the Crystal Palace and its gardens closed against the working classes of London."

* * * * *

THE CABMAN AND HIS PINT OF STOUT.--A FABLE.

A Cabman, being inclined to drink, stepped into a public-house, and asked for a pint of stout, which he swallowed at a draught, and in payment for the liquor laid down a fourpenny piece. The landlord, who chanced to be serving in the bar, being a wag, called after his customer, as the latter was going, "Hi there, you!" to which the other, turning his head, replied, "Halloa!"--"Come, I say!" pursued mine host, "this here won't do!"--"Wot won't do?" demanded the other.--"Wot?" the landlord repeated; "wot's this here?"--"Wot's this here?" returned the cabman; "why, it's a fo'p'ny bit, isn't it?"--"Well, and wot then?" cried the landlord.--"Wot dy'e mean?" retorted the cabman.--"Wot do you mean?" rejoined the landlord; "wot dy'e mean this here for?"--"For a pint o' stout, to be sure," was the cabman's answer.--"Ho, ho, ho, ho!" shouted the landlord.--"Wot are yer larfin' at?" exclaimed the cabman, in astonishment; "Fo'pence a pint o' stout--ain't that right!"--"I s'pose," replied the landlord, "yer calls yerself a gentleman."

Here the people who were tippling at the bar burst into a loud laugh, which awoke the cabman to a perception that the landlord had been making game of him. "Come, come," said Boniface, "I was only chaffin' you; but now I hope you'll see the propriety of takin' wot you're entitled to when you're offered it, without indulgin' in superfluous and unpleasant hobservations."

* * * * *

STRIKE OF THE WIVES OF ENGLAND.

MR. PUNCH has received a letter, written in a bold feminine style, and sealed with a crest, a hand-and-patten--a letter, of which the subjoined are the contents:--

"At the present moment, when everything is rising, it behoves the Wives of England to be up and doing too. There are thousands--perhaps millions of my oppressed sisters this minute married to husbands in the human form who, with a meanness which ought to make them ashamed of themselves, allow so much and _no more_ for the expenses of the house. No matter what are the markets--the weekly allowance is the same. Bread may rise--butter may go up--legs of mutton may advance--and still no rise at home!

"Therefore, it is desired that all wives suffering in silence under the yoke of the tyrant will take their remedy in their own hands; and strike.

"All ladies willing to co-operate--that the blow may be aimed through the cupboards at the husbands on the same day--are requested to communicate (post paid) with

"MRS. MARY ANNE HEN."

"_Shoulder-of-Mutton Fields._"

* * * * *

WANTED, A NOBLEMAN!

We have for some time looked with much curiosity to ascertain the result of the death of a noble Earl, whose name used to be as familiar to us as Household Words, in connection with certain pills which were warranted to cure bad legs, black-legs, and all sorts of legs of every degree of standing.

If the pill and ointment business should have fallen off since the death of the Earl, who was advertised as a living specimen of the benefits to be derived from cramming himself with the one, and saturating his skin with the other, we can only recommend the proprietor to put into circulation the following Advertisement, with the attractive heading of

"WANTED, A NOBLEMAN!"

Wanted, a Nobleman! ready to fill His noble inside with a Popular Pill. He must have a Bad Leg, Indigestion, and Gout, With an abscess internal, that ought to come out; He must suffer from Headache, Consumption, and pains In the nerves, and the elbows, the eyebrows and brains; He must also have tried every doctor in town-- DOCTOR JONES, DOCTOR SMITH, DOCTOR WHITE, DOCTOR BROWN. But vain must have proved all professional skill, Till he heard, quite by chance, of the Popular Pill.

Wanted, a Nobleman! full of disease, From his head to his foot, from his nose to his knees; With Asthma, Paralysis, Deafness, and Mumps, Sciatica, Elephantiasis, Dumps, The Blues, Yellow Jaundice, the Red Gum, White Swelling, Confining him just twenty years to his dwelling, And making him pay many doctors a bill-- Till a friend recommended the Popular Pill.

Wanted, a Nobleman! ready to swear, Of cure or improvement he'd learned to despair; When a friend, whom he'd known fifty years at death's door, Whose family long since had given him o'er, Ran into his chamber with laughter's wild shout; As he gaily continued to caper about, Declaring he owed it to taking his fill (For the last eighteen months) of the Popular Pill.

Wanted, a Nobleman! ready to munch The Popular Pill between breakfast and lunch; He must take it at bed-time, at sun-rise, at noon, At the fall of the leaf, at the full of the moon; If a noble there is, who's disposed to fulfil The office of puffing the Popular Pill, And will of its virtues incessantly speak, His salary will be a guinea a week!

* * * * *

ST. LUKE'S AND ST. STEPHEN'S.

Posterity will scratch his head when he meets with the subjoined passages whilst studying the Parliamentary intelligence in an ancient file of the _Times_. MR. C. BERKELEY, moving the House into Committee on the Expenses of Elections' Bill, said

"It was now a Bill merely to prevent the use of bands, bell-ringing, and colours at elections."

After some remarks by MR. COWPER against the Bill,

"COLONEL SIBTHORPE then rose to move, in pursuance of notice, that the Bill be deferred for three months. He said he had read the Bill carefully over, and he thought he had designated it as it deserved, when on a former occasion he had called it a mean, low, dirty bill. (_Laughter._) It was a dangerous and delusive measure; it was a trap set for unwary men, who might suddenly find themselves to have been guilty of an offence which they had no intention of committing ... It restricted the liberty of the subject...."

However, the House went into Committee on the Bill; and the COLONEL took the opportunity of renewing his protest against it: declaring that

"He would oppose the Bill in every stage, for he regarded it as a disgraceful, mean, dirty, shabby measure."

After the odd remark had been made by MR. F. SCULLY, that

"With regard to the carrying of flags and banners, he had no doubt that in England such services were frequently made the means of corruption,"

The report proceeds to state that

"SIR J. GRAHAM thought the best course would be to give up this Bill, and proceed as soon as possible with the next order on the paper, the Lunatics' Care and Treatment Bill."

Proceed with the _next_ Bill--the Lunatics' Care and Treatment Bill? How the _next_ Bill? A Bill on the showing of which it appears that certain poor creatures were in the habit of going about trumpeting, drumming, bell-ringing, carrying flags--enacting such fooleries as these--on the solemn occasion of electing a Member of Parliament; of contributing a philosopher to the Collective Wisdom; a Bill in reference to unfortunates corruptible by means of flags and banners: how, a rational Posterity will ask, could this have been a previous Bill to the other? Must not what was called the next Bill have been, in fact, merely the next clause of the same Bill; a general measure relating to the care and treatment of lunatics?

COLONEL SIBTHORPE'S denunciations of the proposed enactment will not, perhaps, tend very much to prevent Posterity from taking this view of the case.

* * * * *

BOMBA'S BANE.

The _Examiner_ states that the Neapolitan chemists are not allowed to expose bottles, red, white, and green, because they form the tricolours of Italy. We may add that BOMBA has nearly been poisoned by partaking of an English salad which besides lettuce, contained red and white radishes.

* * * * *

THE BETTING HOUSE DEPUTATION.

"A deputation against the proposed Bill for the suppression of betting-houses had an interview with VISCOUNT PALMERSTON yesterday."--_Court Circular, Thursday._

Early on the above day, _Mr. Punch_ received a note from his friend, LORD PALMERSTON, apprising him that such a deputation was expected at the Home Office, and asking him to "come down." _Mr. Punch_, who is always ready to come down in a good cause, immediately complied, and may indeed add, that from the disgraceful state of Whitehall (proverbially the worst swept, kept, drained, and watered street in London), _Mr. Punch_ was laughingly charged by his noble friend, on entering, with having "come down with the dust." _Mr. Punch_ need hardly remark that his retort was triumphant. The Home Secretary and his friend were soon apprised that the Betting-house Keepers were in attendance. Buttoning up their pockets, therefore, the two statesmen directed that their visitors should be introduced.

LORD PALMERSTON'S easy manner, not unmingled with a pleasant scornfulness (scarcely perceptible to the fine natures of the Deputation), was a model of the best style of Reception. _Mr. Punch_ was sterner--he could not smile on such folk. His appearance threw the Deputation into manifest consternation, and one of the fraternity was heard to observe, with a most irreverent reference to one of _Mr. Punch's_ features, that "if Nosey was to be heerd, it was all Queer Street." The vulgar party was supposed to mean that _Mr. Punch's_ well-known sentiments on the subject of Betting-houses would render remonstrance ineffective.

"Well, gentlemen," said the Home Secretary, with the smallest inflexion on the latter word, "I promised to see you. What have you got to say?"

"Why, my lord," said a keen, slangy-looking man, with tight light trowsers, a scampish cut-away coat, and a dark blue cravat, adorned with a huge horseshoe pin, "we think, that is me and the rest of us, MR. BOLT, MR. SAINT LEVANT, MR. DIDDLES, MR. FLYPAPER, MR. WHITEWASH, and these other gents" (gracefully introducing each on naming him) "including your humble, namely myself MR. DOOBRUS, we think, my lord, that in this matter Parliament is rather down upon us, and that it ain't the thing. We want your lordship to see it in that light."

"I am open to--to--to--a--to conviction," said his lordship; "or, if the word is offensive to any gentleman present, I will say, to argument."

"My lord," said MR. DOOBRUS, impressively, "the British turf is a noble and manly recreation, fostered by princes, and encouraging the finest breed of--"

"MR.--a--DOOBRUS," interrupted his lordship. "_Mr. Punch's_ time and my own is valuable. Please to keep to the point. Betting-houses have nothing whatever to do with the turf, so suppose we don't talk nonsense. If you can give me any reasons why gambling-shops, that demoralise the rising generation and fill the gaols (with, I am sorry to say, the customers, not the dealers), should not be suppressed, do. But as to talking of the turf, you might as well tell me that St. Paul's is a big church, or, what is a little more to the purpose, that the House of Correction is in Coldbath Fields."

"But, my lord, as a racing man, you must know--"

"I am not a racing man, MR. DOOBRUS, but I have some race-horses. But once more, leave out of the question that which we have nothing to do with. We are speaking as men of business. It's all very well to cant out of doors about "one law for the rich and another for the poor", and to say that "JACK JONES has as much right to bet his half-crown on _Joe Miller_, as LORD BATTLEAXE has to bet his thousand pounds on _Hydaspes_", but that trash is of no use here. Rich and poor has nothing to do with the matter, except that you do your best to make the rich poor and the poor poorer. But when you take JACK JONES'S half-crown he no more bets on _Joe Miller_ than on the Moon. He knows and cares nothing about _Joe Miller_, but he wants to gamble, and a horse's name does as well for that purpose as anything else. What has JACK JONES to do with the turf, or you either?"

"But, my lord," exclaimed all the Deputation, "JACK has a right to gamble."

"Let him. But you shall not keep gambling-houses to tempt and ruin him. The law forbids them to the rich, and so it shall to the poor. The Bill will be law this day fortnight. Anything more to say, gentlemen?"

The Deputation retired, considerably disgusted, and were understood to have subsequently made particular inquiries as to the cost of passages to Australia.

* * * * *

THE TEA-TOTAL MOVEMENT.

The Tea-totallers--whose zeal we much admire, though we cannot rush into the cistern or hang on to the pump with all the ardour they display in their attempts to bring an hydraulic pressure to bear on public opinion--have published a sort of summary of their achievements. They have forwarded "30,000 letters" to noblemen, &c., from which we infer that they have filled at least 300 waste-paper baskets, and furnished wrappers to several thousand quarters of pounds of butter. They have held several hundred "tea-meetings," and they might have added, "munched a million muffins," to say nothing of the consumption of crumpets, which must have been something marvellous. They have delivered some thousands of lectures on water, and have probably exhausted a great many highly respectable pumps in the operation.

We find from a prospectus, that the hot days of August are about to be refreshed by a flood of American eloquence, which is about to be "turned on" at Exeter Hall, through the medium of a MR. GOUGH, of whom it is said that "he makes strong men to weep like little children, and women, to sob as if their hearts would burst." This command over the tears of his audience is an appropriate attribute to one whose mission is to popularise water; and there can be no doubt that when every eye around him is gushing with moisture, he will feel himself quite in his element. If he bears out the reputation he brings with him, his lectures will be no laughing matter; for he is, as it were, pledged to set all the men and women off into so many watering-pots, by drawing from them such a series of wailings and sobs, as will not only drown the voice of the orator, but threaten even to drown those who are assembled to hear him. We hope the Trustees of Exeter Hall will see to the drainage of the building before these orations come off, or we do not know what may be the result of a combination of several thousand floods of tears with the orator's flood of eloquence.

* * * * *

THE REAL SMOKE NUISANCE.

We must confess that our objection to the Smoke Nuisance does not extend so much to the honest chimney-pot of private life, or to the tall smoke-evolving structure of manufacturing industry, as to that useless and disgusting object, the street smoker, who puffs his "cheap and nasty" cigar in the faces of innocent passengers. We sincerely hope that LORD PALMERSTON will render it imperative on those offensive locomotives to consume their own smoke in some way or other. They are usually of a class that may be got to swallow almost anything, and we would therefore suggest that they be called upon to swallow their own smoke, for in the event of there being no other outlet, their mouths are always open to them.

* * * * *

MOST MUSICAL, MOST DIPLOMATIC.

We are particularly happy in being the first to state that the EARL OF WESTMORELAND, our illustrious ambassador at the Court of Vienna, is busily engaged composing a new March of Intellect for the EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA.

* * * * *

THE EUROPEAN CONCERT.

This Concert, which has been going on now for several years most harmoniously, is likely to be disturbed by the fact of Russia, who is, really, very clever on the base, wishing to play first-fiddle.

* * * * *

A GROWL FROM THE SCOTTISH LION.

It was the auld Scottish Lion, I heard him growlin' sair; "Deil ha'et, gin I pit up wi' Siccan treatment ony mair.

"Oh, ance my mane was winsome: And oh! but my tail was lang; But on them baith is scorn and scaith, From Southron deeds of wrang!

"Now up and ride, LAIRD EGLINTON, That was sae stout in stour, That when it rainit cats and dogs, Aye jousted through the shower.

"Now, horse! my provosts and baillies, And convener of the Trades, Dean o' Guild, and maister o' Merchants, The auld Lion craves your aids.

"It's up on your ain middens, My cocks, sae croose to craw, And gar play your Scottish fiddles, And your Scottish bag-pipes blaw.

"And they hae ta'en and sworn an aith-- An aith both strang and true-- That for the auld Lion o' Scotland They will win back his due.

"I've a sair, sair pain in my belly, And a sair catch in my breath; Ye'll mind it was English misdoings That brocht me to my death.

"And ye've aye uphauld, sae bluff and bauld, My right my tail to wag, Aboon the pock-puddins' Lion Upon the Scottish flag.

"Ye'll to the Prince Royal o' Scotland-- Him the Southrons misca's 'Wales,' And ask him what gars his household Wear breeks aboot their tails?

"Why a Scots' prince hasna aboot him Scots' men and places got, A' things Scots, but the wages, whilk should be Punds sterlin', and no punds Scot.

"Say there's a keeper o' the swans Whose office ocht to cease, Or Scotland behoves a keeper too, To keep her Solan geese.

"There's the maister o' the music, That the music maks ava', For his thousand puns' a year I trow he were best awa'.

"Or if no that Scotland ocht to brink Her music-maister too, Wi' bagpipe and Scotch fiddle We'll find him wark to do.

"And they have put down the Scottish mint, Nae money noo mak' we, I trow they hae sent to Brummagem To coin the Scots' bawbee!

"And we hae Parliament Members eneuch Our votes wi' place to buy; There's many a gude job in England, But nae Scots' thumb in the pie.

"And Holyrood Park is a bonny place, But 'tis nae place for me and you; And the Embro' baillies lets it For a kailyard oot to feu.

"And oh, 'tis in geography We're driven to the wa'-- Till in the map o' Europe We're hard to find ava';

"And when a Scotsman's to be hung (E'en Scotland rogues will plague) There's nae a Scottish hangman to fit The noose about his craig.

"Now, well-a-day, and wae is me, For the days of auld lang syne, When wi' England we had nocht to do Save liftin' o' her kine!

"The Lion o' a kingdom small I trow I'd suner be, Than the Lion of an empire vast When there's ither there than me."

* * * * *

A CHANCE FOR THE POOR CLERGY.

It is certainly scandalous that there should be any sale of livings, though, if the practice must exist, we are happy to find that a "good living" may be bought for a sum within the crippled means of a poor clergyman, who has not yet exhausted the whole of his begging and borrowing resources and energies. The annexed advertisement will, we trust, attract the attention of the sons of the clergy who may be induced to confer the "good living" on one of the thousands of poor parsons whom the clergy's sons claim the especial privilege of aiding and comforting. The advertisement is copied literally from the _Times_ newspaper.

A GOOD LIVING.--To be SOLD, a new PATENT MANGLE, by Baker, with good business attached, suitable for any industrious person desirous of obtaining a respectable livelihood. Price £12. Apply at, &c.

There is a "good living" to be had for twelve pounds, and it is evidently a much better thing than the average run of small curacies, for it will enable a person to obtain "a respectable livelihood."

We are glad to find that the condition of the poor clergy is at length being looked at in its proper light, and that a good mangle may be advertised as a "good living" so as to catch at once the eye of the clerical class to whom the owner of the mangle has evidently addressed himself. We shall really begin to hope that the wretched condition of the underpaid clergyman is beginning to "take a turn," if we can find in Reverend hands a few mangles with "good livings" attached to them.

* * * * *

LONDON WITHOUT A POLICEMAN.--There is a threat of all the policemen striking.--We doubt if London will perceive the difference, even supposing that they do.

* * * * *

LOVE'S LABOUR LOST AT LIMERICK.

Of what use is it to read a good book and transgress its rules in the very act?

The _Times_ has a paragraph, stating that two London missionaries, the REV. MESSRS. DICKINSON and LEWIS, attempted to read and expound the Scriptures to a crowd in Limerick on Sunday evening; when--

"After a few minutes a mob collected and set upon the Reverend gentlemen, who were severely maltreated. It is computed that 10,000 of the _canaille_ of Limerick were engaged in hooting, yelling, and throwing stones, where they could with safety to themselves, at the obnoxious clergymen."

Oh, MR. DICKINSON! Oh, MR. LEWIS! _Punch_ does not quote anything above SHAKSPEARE; but how could you--Reverend gentlemen--how could you scatter sacred words before the Limerick multitude? Have you not sufficiently studied the volume you were reading from to recollect what it says about pearls and--Limerick multitudes? Well--you have disobeyed the precept--and taken the consequences.

* * * * *

SOMETHING REALLY NEW.

_Q._ What Member of the present House of Commons has really made himself a new name in the country?

_A._ The Member for South Essex--who spells his name SMIJTH. We have met with SMITHS in thousands before, and know a few SMITHES, and have been introduced to SMYTHS and SMYTHES by the hundred; but never, in our whole existence, do we recollect having ever met with a single SMIJTH! It's grand! How noble the simple introduction of that _j_ makes it! But we wonder how the servants pronounce it at an evening party?

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE RETURN TO DUTY.

BY A VERY MILD CABMAN.

Recalcitration, WILLIAM, cease, JAMES, we'll return to work in peace. Alas! the struggle to prolong Were useless--would be, therefore, wrong.

The Legislature and the Press, Whom Heaven--although they've wronged us--bless! Have triumphed by superior force: Submission now should be our course.

And though defeated, after all, Our loss, in fact, will be but small; A slight reduction of our fare, Which our proprietors will bear.

Employment will increase, besides; Our friends will take more frequent rides, And that will amply compensate For payment at a lower rate.

Whilst o'er our tongue respect presides, And courtesy our manner guides, Of temperance let us own the sway, And that of cleanliness obey.

Of insult or extortion, none In terror, then, our cabs will shun; Perhaps ev'n ladies then will dare To constitute themselves our fare.

And oh, divesting our pursuit Of altercation and dispute, How much more pleasantly shall we Discuss our toast, and sip our tea!

* * * * *

ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

However much the Whigs may be found fault with for their acts of omission, they are perfectly clear about their acts of Commission, for we believe it is indisputable that they have passed more acts that have saddled the country with Commissions than any other Government.

* * * * *

THE TAILOR ASSASSIN.

An unhappy French tailor has been charged, on the evidence of our old friend JOINVILLE, with a conspiracy to assassinate our old enemy LOUIS NAPOLEON. The "conspiracy" looks very like an attempt on our gracious Queen, for the unhappy wretch of a tailor wanted HER MAJESTY'S head on twenty pieces of gold coin, and his design was directed far more upon English sovereigns than upon French Napoleons. Twenty pounds was the price to be charged by the French tailor for making his country free and happy; but, considering that the trade of patriotism is rather at a low ebb just now, we cannot help thinking that the unfortunate humbug placed his services at too high a figure.

Whether the accused really contemplated the murder of LOUIS NAPOLEON is doubtful, though MR. BODKIN was engaged to argue that the tailor designed the _quietus_ of the Emperor with, perhaps, "a bare Bodkin," which, being the instrument of his trade, might have been the intended instrument of his iniquity. Our private opinion of the matter is that the French vagabond, instead of wishing to shed the blood of the present ruler of France, was anxious only to make the PRINCE DE JOINVILLE "bleed" to the tune of twenty sovereigns. Instead of elevating the scamp into a political conspirator, it would be better to treat him at once as a swindler and a would-be obtainer of money under false pretences. There is no greater "mistake" than to assign political motives to a merely mercenary act, and to arraign as a monster, who would have murdered an Emperor, a poor insignificant adventurer who, though utterly hopeless of a "clean shirt," may have aspired to the chance of "a guinea."

* * * * *

THE MAIMS OF MONEY.

You scarcely ever receive change for a sovereign without finding that one of the shillings or sixpences has had a hole drilled through it, which--suggesting a painful doubt as to the exchangeable value of the coin--is altogether a bore. We are glad that MR. WILSON has got leave to bring in a bill to prevent the defacing of the QUEEN'S money; and we hope this measure will have the effect of remedying one of the greatest evils of change.

* * * * *

* * * * *

SUNDAY AMONG THE SEWERS.--The Sabbatarians want to have nothing stirring on Sunday but stagnation; which is not only not conducive to health, but also tends to engender zymotic diseases.

* * * * *

KENILWORTH CHURCH AND KENILWORTH CASTLE.

There has reached _Mr. Punch_ a very good-humoured letter from a Reverend gentleman suggesting to him the expediency of subscribing £10 or £20 towards the endowment of a new church at Kenilworth, in order to show that he, _Mr. Punch_, is not opposed to the Christian observance of Sunday, which might, the worthy clergyman seems to think, be inferred from his objection to the Jewish observance of it.

The idea of a church at Kenilworth is peculiarly happy. On Sundays it might be a counter-attraction to the Castle. Success to the exertions of the minister that is to preach in it to render it such!

Our clerical correspondent's suggestion is ingenious; it merits attention: it shall be attended to in good time.

If _Mr. Punch's_ ideas--and circulation--were narrow, he might plead that the church at Kenilworth is not in his own parish. But that would be an invalid as well as a sneaking excuse for parsimony. The parish of _Punch_ is the world.

When all the property appertaining to the Established Church has been so distributed among the clergy as to maintain every one of them, bishops and all, in a style of apostolical competence, and when the whole of the surplus thus created shall have been applied to the endowment of new churches, then, if any more money is wanted for that purpose, _Mr. Punch_ will be most happy to contribute as much as ever he is able; and his munificence shall, in the very first place, effuse itself upon the new church at Kenilworth.

* * * * *

STRIKING CIRCUMSTANCES.

Really JOHN BULL may almost be described as a maniac with lucid intervals. He appears to be always suffering under some form of mania or other. A few years ago it was the Railway Mania--a very dangerous phrenzy. Then from time to time occurs a Poultry Mania, or one of the similar and milder forms of insanity. The mania now prevailing is one which, if not attended to, may perhaps prove troublesome. This is the Striking Mania. Everybody is Striking. The other day it was the cabmen; now it is the Dockyard labourers; the policemen, even, have struck and thrown down their staves. Our mechanics have so far become machines, that, like clocks, as clocks ought to be, they are all striking together.

Should this mania spread, we shall have Striking become what might be called the order, but that it will be the disorder, of the day. The professions will strike; you will send for your lawyer to make your will, and your messenger will return with _non est inventus_--struck; or should you ask the legal gentleman a six-and-eightpenny question, you will discover that he has struck for 13_s._ 4_d._ The physicians and surgeons will strike for two-guinea fees; the apothecaries for ten-shilling mixtures. The clergy will all strike--as indeed some of them, the poor curates, might reasonably do--and pluralists will be demanding forty thousand a year instead of twenty; whilst bishops will hang up the mitre, stick the crosier over the chimney-piece, and hold out against the Ecclesiastical Commissioners for double incomes. In short, almost everybody will strike except the threshers, the smiths, and the pugilists.

With all this striking, though, we had better take care that we are not floored.

* * * * *

Musical Intelligence.

Talking about music--and our Honourable Members have been talking a great deal about it lately--a celebrated professor says: "You generally find that persons who are not fond of music play the Flute."

* * * * *

THE POPULAR LAURIE BALLAD

There is a song to which we have alluded before, called "_Annie Laurie_," being sung at all the Mansion House dinners; and though ANNIE is the name in common use, there can be no doubt that PETER is the party whom the ballad is designed to flatter. We have therefore engaged our own Laureate in the graceful task of fixing on the head of the LAURIES the honour which had been conferred on ANNIE, by a poet evidently unconscious of the "coming" Alder-"man."

The Mansion House is bonnie when dinners are not few; And it's there that PETER LAURIE gave me his promise true, Gave me his promise true that I his guest should be; And for Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee.

His neckcloth's like the snaw-drift; his frill like down of swan; His watch-chain is the smartest electro e'er shone on, Electro e'er shone on! And green is his coatee; And for Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee.

Like lead on the pavement dropping is the fa' of his heavy feet; And like winds in winter blowing, his voice on the judgment seat, His voice on the judgment seat! And, though he frightens me, For Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee.

* * * * *

WONDERS OF THE DEEP.

We paid a visit to the Regent's Park Zoological Gardens the other day, for the purpose of noticing the collection of Mollusca, Zoophytes, &c., and very much regret to find it incomplete.

There are specimens from the German Ocean and the Bristol Channel, but none from the Sees of London, Durham, Rochester, or Salisbury, the rapacity of whose tenants is so well known, that there is no doubt, could their destructive propensities be as clearly seen as those now exhibiting, the very Sees themselves would be drained to stop their depredations.

On inquiring the reason of the absence of so interesting a collection, we were told that although a variety of nets, such as the Ecclesiastical Commission, WHISTON'S Inquiries, and others, have been tried, they have never succeeded in bringing these very recondite creatures above the surface, for when they perceive their approach to public gaze, they become so alarmed, and struggle so violently, as always to succeed in escaping to their natural shelter among the riches deposited at the bottom of their Sees.

The most rapacious among them is said to be the "Episcopus," as only one of them can be found in a See. This will not cause surprise, for it has been ascertained that £10,000 per annum is devoured by a single specimen. The Episcopus is always attended by a crowd of Rectors, Canons, and Vicars, who are all more or less grabiferous.

These curious animals are said to possess a peculiarity wanting in all other species, that of ubiquity; as they are supposed to be able to be in several places at once.

* * * * *

SHOCKING LANGUAGE.

"SIR,--The papers inform us that MR. PHILLIMORE, the other night, asked the President of the Board of Control why the returns given in the case of 'RUSTOMJEE VICCAJEE and VICCAJEE PESTONJEE' were incomplete? That a subject, evidently surrounded with ease, should be attended with difficulty is certainly strange. But I want to know, if you can inform me, who or what 'RUSTOMJEE VICCAJEE and VICCAJEE PESTONJEE,' aforesaid are? I thought at first that these words were specimens of the 'foul language' used by cabmen and others as complained of by COLONEL SIBTHORPE. Am I right? By the bye, while on the subject of bad words, may I ask (indignantly, as the father of a family) how it is that PROFESSOR GREGORY and other chemists are not restrained from circulating such words as the following: Methylethylamylophenylium, Ethylopropylamylamine, Methylethylamylophenylammonium; 76 letters in three words--my hand aches with writing them. To be sure, as a set-off, these professors sometimes give us something more euphonious; 'Margarate of Glycerine' sounds like the title of a novel, but then whoever heard of 'Glycerine?' Where is it? What did Margarate there, and is she a descendant of MARGARET OF ANJOU? I trust that you will be able to give me some information, or, at any rate, give your assistance in the cause of monosyllabic simplicity.

"BUZFUZ."

"P.S. 'What's in a name?' is a question that has been often asked. I find that 'MARGARATE OF GLYCERINE' is not so pretty as her name--she's FAT."

* * * * *

MR. PETERLOO BROWN'S EXAMINATION OF THE OXFORD STATUTES.

"DEAR MR. PUNCH,

"I appeal to you in a case of difficulty, and trust that my familiarity will not beget your contempt. My name is BROWN: not an uncommon surname, perhaps, but I am distinguished by my Christian name of PETERLOO. My eldest lad is called after me, and it is in his behalf, _Mr. Punch_, that I crave your advice. He is at present an Eton _boy_, but he will soon be ready to be an Oxford _man_, and I am now looking forward to his matriculation. You are, doubtless, Sir, aware that every one who goes through that form has to subscribe to certain oaths and conditions, before he can be admitted to the privileges of the University. I myself never had the benefit of a University education, but I am well aware how it helps a man to gain a position in society--a position which my rapid rise to fortune has only in part secured to me; for there are, _Mr. Punch_, aristocrats by birth, who turn up their noses at us aristocrats by wealth, and yet will stoop to----however, to return to my son. I am determined that _he_ shall not want for advantages; but, as I have a certain sort of squeamishness about a person taking oaths that he does not know the meaning of, and swearing to observe statutes of whose nature he is unaware, I sent to Oxford for a copy of the University Statutes, that I might run my eye over them, and see what were the laws that governed the noble, the great, the famous, the--in short, the enlightened place, the University of Oxford. The book is now before me:--'_Parecbolæ sive Excerpta e corpore Statutorum Universitatis Oxoniensis_:' and a copy is, I believe, presented to every undergraduate at his matriculation, that he may be fully aware of the laws that he has sworn to obey. The Statutes I find to be written in a Latin form--I cannot say, in a _dead_ language, for it is of a kind very much resembling the living, and of that description vulgarly termed 'Dog' Latin; so that I, who never got further than _Eutropius_, and whose acquaintance with the language has become rusty from want of use, can easily make out a translation of the sentences. I find that my son will have to sign the Thirty-nine Articles, which, I dare say, is all very proper; take the Oath of Allegiance, which is quite right; and also, the Oath of Supremacy, in which he will have to say, that he, PETERLOO BROWN, does, 'from his heart, abhor, detest, and abjure, as impious and heretical, that damnable doctrine and position that Princes, excommunicated or deprived by the POPE, or any authority of the See of Rome, may be deposed or murdered by their subjects, or any other whatsoever.' Now, although I may be secretly of opinion that my lad might as well swear to any Bosh, as all this about the excommunicate Princes, yet I pass this over, and proceed to the Statutes themselves.

"I find that a great part of the book is about the keeping of terms; the granting of various kinds of degrees, of congregations, convocations, dispensations, and all that sort of thing; and I then come--under the head '_Tit._ XIV. _De Vestitu et Habitu Scholastico_'--to the Statutes that more immediately concern my son PETERLOO. And this is the result of my search.

"I find that nobody, unless he is a Peer's son--(who may do what he likes, for you will find, _Mr. Punch_, that it is one of the great beauties of our University system, that it allows no distinction of persons, but puts the sons of the ignoble and the noble on equal terms; but I am digressing!)--I find '_Statutum est_,' that 'Nobody shall wear any other clothes than those of a black, or "subfusk" colour' (_coloris nigri aut subfusci_), 'or imitate (in their dress) what is extravagant or fast:' (that seems to be the meaning of the words '_fastum aut luxum_;' but, as I said before, my Latin is rather rusty). Now, since this is the rule, I would ask how it is, _Mr. Punch_, that young BELLINGHAM GREY (my neighbour's son) should, at the end of every term, bring home from Christ Church (where by the way, he is ruining his father, but that is no affair of _mine_!) suits of clothes of every colour _but_ black or 'subfusk' (not that I exactly know what colour that may be), and remarkable solely for their extravagance and 'fast-ness?' I want my lad to dress like a gentleman, but I don't always want to see him putting in an appearance like an undertaker, or counter-skipper, or like the man in the play (is it _Hamlet_? though, probably, _Othello_?) continually clothed in 'an inky suit of black.' And, if he swears to observe such a Statute as the above, why, _of course_, the authorities will see that he obeys it, and dresses accordingly.

"It is next ordered, that 'Nobody shall follow that absurd and proud custom of walking in boots in public.' (_Insuper, ab absurdo illo et fastuoso publice in ocreis ambulandi more, abstinere compellantur._ I give you the very words, _Mr. Punch_, lest you should not believe me.) Now, where on earth is the harm of my lad wearing Wellingtons? But I suppose that every one in Oxford (I do not know the place) wears the 'Oxford Shoes,' and that this Statute has been inserted to keep up what is, doubtless, the staple trade of the city. For, _of course_, the Statute is observed, or they would not make the students swear to obey it.

"'_Statutum est_' also, that 'Nobody shall wear the hair long or in curls (_in capillitio modus est, nec concinnos, aut comam nimis promissam alant_). Now, Sir, my son PETERLOO has been favoured by Nature with a particularly curly head of hair. I wish to ask you, Do you think that this misfortune, which it is evident can be from no fault of his own, will shut him out from all the privileges of the University? It is a momentous question for a father to make, and one which may interest the bosom friend of the present Chancellor--I mean MR.--I beg his pardon, DR. DISRAELI. One thing is plain: that the advertisements of 'Do you want luxurious hair?' can be of no use in Oxford, and that bears'-grease must be at a discount. And if my son PETERLOO should fail to observe any of the above Statutes touching his personal appearance, or the giving himself airs, he will, when he is a graduate, have to pay 6_s._ 8_d._ for each offence (_poena_ 6_s._ _et_ 8_d._ _plectatur, toties quoties_), and while he is an undergraduate he will, for such offences, have to suffer corporal punishment (_poena corporali_). Good gracious, _Mr. Punch_, I have read that the great NEWTON was horsed when he was a Cambridge undergraduate; but I thought that such a degrading custom was either confined to that University, or had passed away with the dark ages, and oil-lamps, and Protection, and all that sort of thing. Does not Oxford--the Mother of Science, and (for what I know) the Aunt of Literature, and the Grandmother of the Arts--does not Oxford, I repeat, keep up with the progressive enlightenment of the age? I almost repent that I have entered PETERLOO there (at St. Vitus' College), and I tremble to think of the effect that corporal punishment, will have on him when he is become a _man_. As an Eton boy it (perhaps) does him good; but as a man! I thought such disgrace only attached to the army. For, _of course_, the corporal punishment cannot be inflicted _only_ in the Statutes.

"I then find that it is '_Statutum est_,' that if any one should happen to introduce a new and unwonted style of dress, that the Vice-Chancellor and the Heads of the Colleges and Halls shall thereupon hold deliberation and give their opinion; and that the Vice-Chancellor shall then forbid the cutters-out and the tailors, making these kind of garments (_Deinde, Vice-Cancellarius scissoribus sive sartoribus vestiariis hujusmodi vestes conficiendi potestate interdicat_); and that the Heads shall prohibit their scholars from wearing them; but that if the young men, with a morbid pertinacity (_morbi pertinacia_), persist in clothing themselves in the aforesaid garments, the Vice-Chancellor shall, after three monitions, expel them.

"The motherly care shown by Alma Mater that her sons should not fall into scrapes by making Guys of themselves, is here very strongly evidenced; and I think it would be a profitable subject for inquiry, if MR. HUME would move for a return of the number of times that the Vice-Chancellor and the Heads of Houses have met, in accordance with the above Statute.

"The remainder of _Tit._ XIV is taken up with the cut of the gowns, &c., but is as unlike a ladylike page of _Le Follet_ (which MRS. BROWN takes in) as anything can be.

"The Statutes demanding attention in _Tit._ XV. are so numerous that I will trouble you with them in another letter; but they are so amusing that they will repay perusal, and your opinion upon them will not only be highly valued by, but of the greatest use, to

"Dear _Mr. Punch_,

"Your constant reader,

"PETERLOO BROWN."

* * * * *

SONG--RIPEFORAJAIL.

RIPEFORAJAIL for an income is burning, RIPEFORAJAIL has no taste for clod-turning, RIPEFORAJAIL has no funds for gin-spinning, Yet RIPEFORAJAIL has "Green" gold for the winning; Come lend a kind ear to a betting muff's tale, While he tells you the craft of bold RIPEFORAJAIL.

The EARL OF BAREPURSE, o'er Newmarket doth ride, And views his colt win in the very last stride, Long odds for his net, and the Ring for his game, Short whist for the wild, and the dice for the tame; But the TATTERSALL gudgeons, and CROCK pigeons pale, Are less free to EARL BAREPURSE than RIPEFORAJAIL.

RIPEFORAJAIL, when his carcase was light, Used to sweat and to curry a thoroughbred bright, And when "grown overweight" the Kents turned him abroad. To pick winners, in print he each week pledged his word; Gents who love "the blue ribbon," and sport the blue veil, Became quite confidential with RIPEFORAJAIL.

RIPEFORAJAIL to distinction is come, He's no longer a tout, but he owns a flash home; A fig for THE DAVIS and 'cute HARRY HILL! They might lay the long odds, he lays longer odds still, A baize board and counter, and weeds very stale, Are the sole stock in trade of bold RIPEFORAJAIL.

The COCKBURN was steel, and the BETHEL was stone, And PALMERSTON warned him he soon must be gone; Fierce and loud this last week was the curse and the cry Of his victims when shutters alone met the eye; With their Goodwood deposits he gave them leg-bail, And a cove at Boulogne looks like RIPEFORAJAIL.

* * * * *

SPHERES OF REAL USEFULNESS.

The subjoined advertisement relates to an exhibition, which is, perhaps, somewhat interesting, and which might be rendered very much so:--

DIORAMA OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS, 32, Sloane Street, will continue open for a short time. Parents will find this a truly Christian exhibition for their children. Tahiti--New Zealand--The Maori--Island of Tanna--Death of Captain Cook--First Missionary House at Tahiti--Cape Coast Castle--Banyan Tree--Ashanti--Missionary Tombs--The Dungeon, and Rose Madiai.

What this exhibition wants, in order that it may enlist the sympathies of those who are the most earnest promoters of Missionary enterprise, is the addition of a few views of certain savage and heathen regions, the conversion and civilisation of whose inhabitants are more particularly important to the British public. The New Cut, Ratcliff Highway, Houndsditch, Whitechapel, and the slums of Westminster, afford fields for the operation of preachers and philanthropists as extensive, as remarkable, and as unknown as the Polynesian Archipelago or the Cannibal Islands.

* * * * *

DIETETIC RULE OF CONDUCT--Never ask a favour of a man until he has had his dinner.

* * * * *

* * * * *

WHAT IS A MILE?

We think that the question of "What is a Mile?"--a question which promises to swallow up in interest the Eastern Question, and all other questions which as yet remain unanswered--should be settled as soon as possible; for, until it is settled, we shall never be able to arrive at a proper settlement of the Cab fares. This settlement is due--not only to the persons who ride in cabs--but to those who drive them, for there are so many varieties of a mile, and so many different ways of measuring it, that it is impossible to say which is the right one. For instance--

If a young lady walks round the corner of the street in which she lives, she comes home quite fatigued, and "is sure she has walked more than a mile."

If a husband is dragged--a little against his will--to a certain street where there happens to be a bonnet shop, though it is not more than twenty yards, he is morally certain "he has been taken a mile out of his way, if he has been taken an inch."

It is curious the number of miles a mother-in-law has walked when she feels desirous, poor creature, of having a cab.

Besides, miles vary so much. A mistress's mile is generally very different to a servant's--a master's to a clerk's. Auctioneers' miles are proverbially very short ones when they are describing a property as being not more than "an omnibus distance from town," or when they are enlarging upon the merits of a Villa that is "only an easy drive from a railway station." Travellers' miles, on the contrary, are generally very long ones. You will hear a delicate young man, who has just returned from a pedestrian tour, boast of having walked his "two thousand miles," just as if he had trailed a pedometer behind him, and had measured every inch of the road. Panoramas also, have a very elastic method of stretching out a mile, which cab-drivers would doubtlessly not object to adopt as their own particular standard of measurement. They talk very glibly of being "three miles long," whereas, if the distance came to be measured, it would probably turn out to be--like cabmen's distances generally--not more than half. There is another deficiency, too, that frequently occurs with the mileage question. We have known a distance, that when a party first went over it, was only four or five miles, become suddenly increased to eight or ten at least, when the same party--especially if a dinner party--had to go over it again on their way back. This difficulty has been felt so strongly at times, that every one of the party has preferred--at that late hour--stopping where he was, instead of walking home all that distance. These unnecessary difficulties imperatively call for a speedy answer to the puzzling question, "What is a Mile?" for hitherto the question has been passed over by our Police magistrates, from one parish to another, like a pauper, for the want of a settlement.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A CABMAN'S PROTEST AGAINST THE HINJUSTICE OF THE HACT.

Vy, here's a pretty time o 'day! a precious hact indeed! I'm blest if, since I tuk the vip, the like I ever seed. The ould hacts they vos dreadful bad, and cut us all to bits; For justice from just-asses a poor Cabman never gits: Though he may do the thing vot's fair, the fare the thing vot's shabby, It's all the same; the ugly beak is allus down on Cabby.

But look at this 'ere hact: my eye! there's fine and pris'n, too! I vonder vot the Parleyment is going next to do. Just s'pose a fare should leave a purse or pocket-book behind, And s'pose, ven I gits to my stand, the book or purse I find; It isn't mine, it's werry true, but I don't know it's his'n; And there comes claws eleven, and claws a 'onest man to pris'n!

Then see the "rates" in Sheddle A, vy vot a shame it is To drag two fat uns near a mile, and only git a tiz! Now s'pose a twelve-stun fare comes up and takes me off the rank, And makes me drive him, pretty sharp, from Smiffield to the Bank; I civ'lly axes eighteenpence, and cheap, too, for the job-- He sticks into me claws seventeen, and fines me forty bob!

Ve're chaffed and jeered by every cove, by slaveys on a bus; Our werry watermen are now our masters top of us. A po-lice chap may poke his dirty mug into my cab, And, if he says it isn't clean, my license he may grab; And arterwards, if I but "use" my own cab, I must pay, Says claws the third, a penalty of sixty bob a day!!!

Vy, haven't Cabmen feelings? Then vot right 'ave you to gash em? They aren't 'osses, vich, we know, all likes us for to lash em. If we are druv about all day from this to t'other station, Our fares screw'd down to sich a pint as 's werry near starwation, Our parson'l liberty consarned, and bilked of all our priggings, I'm blowed if I don't drop the reins and bolt off to the diggings.

* * * * *

EXHIBITION OF POLITICAL INDUSTRY.

The honourable and gallant Member for Lincoln has reason for complaining that there is no prospect of the outlay upon the New Houses of Parliament being finished. The outlay will not be finished before the Houses are--Victoria Tower and all; and when we see what progress is being made with the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, we cannot but think how desirable it is that those edifices, and, indeed, the whole Parliamentary concern should have been got up by a Houses of Parliament Company. If that had been the case, the edifices would not only have been long since lighted, ventilated, and decorated, but the thing would now be a paying property. Such it might easily have been rendered by making the galleries larger, and admitting the public at so much a head--say playhouse prices--which crowded audiences doubtless would be willing to give, in order to hear the spouting. Besides, the Members might have been required to pay for their seats, and the revelations that have taken place this session before the Election Committees afford sufficient assurance that they would have done that handsomely.

* * * * *

WHISKEY ABOVE PROOF.

We suppose that the principal objection of the Irish priesthood to the ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN'S _Christian Evidences_ as a national school-book, is, that if the pupils were allowed to have the truth of Christianity proved to them, they would also want proof of everything else that their Reverences tell them to believe.

* * * * *

THE ETIQUETTE OF SMOKING.

Light your cigar _first_, and, after you have taken one or two whiffs, turn round, and inquire, most politely, "If smoking is disagreeable to any one present?"

* * * * *

THE MOST UNPLEASANT MEETING.--Having to meet a Bill.

* * * * *

A CAROL ON CAROLINE CHISOLM.

Come, all you British females of wealth and high degree, Bestowing all your charity on lands beyond the sea, I'll point you out a pattern which a better plan will teach Than that of sending Missioners to Tombuctoo to preach.

Converting of the Heathen's a very proper view, By preaching true religion to Pagan and to Jew, And bringing over Cannibals to Christian meat and bread, Unless they catch your Parson first and eat him up instead.

But what's more edifying to see, a pretty deal, Is hearty British labourers partaking of a meal, With wives, and lots of children, about their knees that climb, And having tucked their platefuls in, get helped another time.

Beyond the roaring ocean; beneath the soil we tread, You've English men and women, well housed and clothed and fed, Who but for help and guidance to leave our crowded shores, Would now be stealing, begging, or lie starving at our doors.

Who taught them self-reliance, and stirred them to combine, And club their means together to get across the brine, Instead of strikes, and mischief, and breaking of the law, And wasting time in hearing incendiaries jaw?

Who led their expeditions? and under whose command Through dangers and through hardships sought they the promised land? A second MOSES, surely, it was who did it all, It was a second MOSES in bonnet and in shawl.

By means of one good lady were all these wonders wrought, By CAROLINE CHISHOLM'S energy, benevolence, and thought, Instead of making here and there a convert of a Turk, She has made idle multitudes turn fruitfully to work.

The ragged pauper crawling towards a parish grave She roused--directed to a home beyond the western wave; She smoothed his weary passage across the troubled deep, With food, and air, and decencies of ship-room and of sleep.

There's many a wife and mother will bless that lady's name, Embracing a fat infant--who might else have drowned the same, A mother, yet no wife, compelled by poverty to sin, And die in gaol or hospital of misery and gin.

The REVEREND EBENEZER, I'd not deny his dues, For saving Patagonians, and Bosjesmen, and Zooloos; But MRS. CHISHOLM'S mission is what I far prefer; For saving British natives I'd give the palm to her.

And now that a subscription is opened and begun, In order to acknowledge the good that she has done Among that sort of natives--the most important tribe-- Come down like handsome people, and handsomely subscribe.

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

TUESDAY--MAY 28, 18--,

Shall I ever forget the day? As it comes round--if I'm spared for fifty years--I'm sure I shall always feel a chill, a pang at the thoughts of it. That dear, foolish creature, FRED! As if being shot could make it any better! And then the thought--the horrid thought would press itself--piercing like a dagger--to be sent into weeds in one's very Honeymoon!

Of course, the whole house was raised. When JOSEPHINE heard me scream, and came to the bedroom door, and found it locked, and couldn't make me sensible to open it--for I'd the key in my hand, and so had dropt it on the floor when I fell myself in a swoon--

Of course, when JOSEPHINE could make nobody hear, she very soon raised the house, and there were chambermaids and waiters at the door, and they were breaking it open, when I came enough to myself to prevent it!

"It's all right, Ma'am," said JOSEPHINE. "Master's safe: not a whit the worse, depend on't."

"Safe! Are you sure?"--

"Certain, Ma'am. 'Cause the landlord has given information to the constables, and no doubt on it, he says, they'll all be in custody afore they can shoot one another."

"Shoot!" Well--for the moment--I did hate the creature as she spoke the word; speaking it with all the coolness in life--death, I _might_ say.

I hastily slipped something on: went into our room. Had up the landlord, the landlady; and it really was wonderful--gave me for the time quite a shock at human nature--to see how little they were moved--in fact not moved at all--by my wretchedness, my downright misery. "Oh," I thought, every other minute, "if I once get him home again!" And then the next moment, some horrid sight would come before me--and no one, no one to help or advise me. Yes. The landlady counselled me to have a cup of tea, and the landlord advised me to make myself comfortable. "Things o' the sort"--he said--"never come to nothing, now-a-days. Besides, he'd given the word to the constables--and I might make myself easy they'd all be locked up in a jiffy."

"Could he tell me"--I asked--"the most likely road to take?"

"Why, no," he said, "some folks took one, some another. Some liked the cliffs, some the Devil's Dyke; but as he'd sent all ways, why, again he assured me, I had nothing to do but to make myself comfortable."

And even as the horrid man said this, his more dreadful wife--not but what the woman meant well; only I couldn't abide her for her composure at such a time--the woman came to me stirring a cup of tea with, as she said, just a spoonful of brandy in it to settle my spirits.

What a thought! I to take tea with brandy in it, and FREDERICK perhaps at that moment--

JOSEPHINE--I'll do the girl so much justice at last--was running to and fro, upstairs and downstairs--and putting the house, from one end to the other, in a ferment. At last the landlady desired her to be quiet, and not go about making noise enough to tear people out of their beds. If all the world was gone out to be shot, that was no reason why their house should be ruined!

Well, I won't attempt to describe the two hours I suffered! How, sometimes, I thought I'd have a horse and go galloping anywhere, everywhere.

"It's all over, Ma'am!"--cried JOSEPHINE, running in.

"Over!" and I saw death in the girl's face.

"Over, Ma'am. They fired two shots, Ma'am--two a-piece--they say, and"--

"Yes--yes"--

"And master"--

"Killed!"--I screamed.

"No, Ma'am! Quite the reverse!"--

(How I thanked the girl for the words, though where _could_ she have picked 'em up?)

"He has not killed his--I mean the--other gentleman?"--

"No, Ma'am, totally the contrary. Nobody's hit--not so much as winged, though what that means I can't say--only I heard one of the men say as much. But all of 'em in custody."

"What now? Why, what for?--"

"Why, Ma'am, as I hear, for every one of the gentlemen to be bound over to keep his peace for the rest of his born days! And la! bless me--how ill you turn, Ma'am, and when it's all over?"

"Not at all, JOSEPHINE. I'm very well, now: very well, indeed," and then rose my determination. Yes, I'd go home that very day. "JOSEPHINE, pack up as much as you can. Your master shall go home, I'll take care of _that_ directly."

"That's right, Ma'am. Now you've got him safe and sound once more, you couldn't do better, Ma'am. And for MR. TRUEPENNY"--

Well, his very name set me in a flame. "MR. TRUEPENNY! He never crosses _my_ threshold! A very pretty friend indeed, to come and lure a man--a newly-married man"--

"Not married a month yet, quite, Ma'am," said JOSEPHINE, "which makes it hard."--

"And take him out, I may say, in cold blood"--

"Which makes it ten times wickeder," said JOSEPHINE.

"And butcher him like a lamb," said I.

"Exactly like a lamb, Ma'am," cried the girl. "Only there is this difference, Ma'am: you know master isn't a bit hurt."

"That has nothing to do with it. He might have been killed, and what would MR. TRUEPENNY have cared? No! I might have been left a wretched widow!"

"And much MR. TRUEPENNY would have helped you then, Ma'am," said the good girl.

"No, he never crosses the _Flitch_--never: and that I shall tell your master. The foolish, dear fellow! How I will scold him."

"Do, Ma'am; he deserves it all. To go fighting and--and after all, do you know for a certainty what he went fighting about?"--

"Folly, madness, of course," said I. "Jealous of"--

"Well, I thought so!" cried JOSEPHINE, with a strange knowing look. "I thought as much. Jealous, and of you, too, above all folks! And in your Honeymoon, too. Well, I'm sure; as if there wasn't time enough for that!"

"I don't mean to say jealous; not of me--of course not. But the fact is, he fired up at a rudeness, a liberty that"--

"You don't say so, Ma'am!" cried the girl. "La, and if you please, how was that?"

"Why, it was all folly--all nonsense--and he ought to have known better; but--there was a little flower-girl on the beach. What's the matter, JOSEPHINE?" for I saw the creature look suddenly confused.

"Nothing, Ma'am--only I--I once saw that girl--a gipsey-girl, Ma'am--with flowers, Ma'am; yes, to be sure."

"Then you know her?" I asked.

"Can't say I know. Because one should hardly lower oneself to know a creature of that sort. Only once, and perhaps twice, I've had a nosegay of her."

"Well, she _would_ give a nosegay to me," said I.

"Just like 'em, Ma'am," replied JOSEPHINE.

"Yes. She ran to me, and put a nosegay in my hand. And in that nosegay, what, JOSEPHINE--(and I watched her narrowly as I further questioned)--what do you think there was?"

"Law! Who can answer for the gipsies," cried JOSEPHINE.

"Well, then, there was a letter--a love-letter; and that letter finding its way to your master's hand"--

"Oh, Ma'am! _Do_ forgive me! Pray forgive me! I couldn't help it; but I see it all now. The gentleman _would_ write--that letter was not for you!"--

"No? For whom then?"--

"If you please, Ma'am, and you'll not be angry, that letter"--said the bold creature--"that letter was for me!"--

"For _you_! And here has nearly been murder done--here has your master"--

But at the moment FRED ran into the room, and I was in his arms.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE MILESTONE TREADMILL.

How to find fit work for convicts--work that shall at the same time be serviceable to the Public, and shall not take the bread out of the mouths of honest men--is a question that nobody has yet answered. Profound philosophers have sometimes got very near to the discovery of the quadrature of the circle, perpetual motion, the transmutation of metals, the elixir of life, the crystallisation of carbon, the longitude. They have almost succeeded; all but solved the problem; when, just on the verge of the accomplishment of the great work, they find all their profound calculations upset by some petty, superficial obstacle which they had overlooked. Precisely thus had we nearly attained to the invention of a proper employment for convicted thieves: just so were we confounded on the brink of success by a stumbling-block, which has tripped us up and flung us back again heels over head, alighting, however, on the former, as we always do.

A communication in the _Civil Service Gazette_ states the case of a letter-carrier, in the Derby district, who has to walk above 20 miles a day, and deliver letters at eleven villages. This amount of walking exercise, allowing 15 minutes for delivery at each village, and 25 minutes for refreshment, the writer calculates to be 8 miles an hour for 2½ hours. It reads like an achievement of running a fabulous distance and picking up an incredible number of stones with the mouth. That a man might match himself to attempt such a feat of pedestrianism for a limited period and high stakes is conceivable: but this one does it daily for 11s. Of course he has sent in his resignation; no free agent could continue to do such work on such terms. Only eleven shillings for all this hard labour!

Hard labour. These two words are brilliantly suggestive--seem to flash upon us the settlement of the convict employment question. Hard labour--occupation toilsome and unremunerative; at the same time useful: just the proper occupation for criminals. Rig out all our rogues and thieves in blue and scarlet, turn them into postmen, and give them six months, or upwards, of 8 miles an hour for several hours daily letter-carrying. MERCURY in Windsor uniform; messenger and thief in one: on the turnpike treadmill--'tis a pretty idea, too, into the bargain.

But here up starts the difficulty. It is peculiarly necessary that a postman should, before all things, be honest. By this trifling obstacle is the magnificently specious scheme of substituting Post Office employment for the treadmill frustrated. The mounted police, and other constabulary, might prevent the fellows from escaping, and keep them in their routes; but could hardly hinder them from secreting money and notes in stumps of trees, old walls, and other nooks and corners, for concealment therein till the expiration of their sentences. Whilst, however, there exists this objection to the employment of rogues as postmen, there is nothing whatever to forbid them from employing themselves in that capacity. Hence the frequent abstraction of half-sovereigns from letters; taxing the detective acumen of MR. SCULTHORPE.

We see that a bumpkin of a Post Office messenger was tried the other day at the assizes for making away with letters. He was an ignorant clown: and he destroyed them simply that he might not have the trouble of delivering them. Alas for our economy! Unfortunately we can't give inadequate wages without being in danger of getting either a knave for our servant or a fool.

So we didn't quite set the Thames on fire; it won't do to make letter-carriers of convicts: and as to the nuisance of having knaves and fools amongst our postmen, there is evidently no help for that but to raise the postmen's salaries.

* * * * *

DEVOTEES IN CELLS.

MR. LUCAS, the other evening, made a reasonable speech in the House. He complained that the principle of religious equality, in English prisons, was not sufficiently observed with regard to Roman Catholic prisoners. A fair ground of complaint! By all means let every Romanist convict enjoy his own conviction.

* * * * *

AN ANSWER TO THE EASTERN QUESTION.

This question is, at last, effectively answered. We are glad to announce that _Constantinople has just been taken by_ MESSERS. GRIEVE and TELBIN, who, dead to the influence of Russian gold, refuse to surrender it, upon any terms, into the hands of the EMPEROR NICHOLAS. They intend to hold out as long as they possibly can; but all English subjects will be admitted to view its numerous beauties by applying at the Gallery of Illustration, in Regent Street.

No Russians need apply.

* * * * *

WALLS HAVE TEARS.

A complaint against damp houses has been recently made by a letter-writer in the _Times_, who says he has suffered severely from wet walls. We are happy in suggesting an efficient remedy by recommending that the walls of new houses should be papered with Parliamentary speeches, the usual dryness of which would, we are convinced, render any little dampness impossible.

* * * * *

PASSPORTS IMPROVED.

There was a talk of passports being issued with photographic portraits. Men may not object to this plan, as they do not care so much for a little disfigurement, but we doubt strongly if ladies will ever give their countenances to it. It is well known that photographic portraits do not improve the beauty of any one. They give the features of the "human face divine," but without the slightest touch of flattery. Worse than this, if there should be any little defect, the cruel metal does not trouble itself in the least to conceal it, but has the vulgarity to render it in all its staring obliquity or deformity. We have our fears, therefore, that this very unfashionable system of portrait painting will never suit the ladies. It goes upon the Antipodean theory of making the pretty faces appear ugly, and the ugly ones still uglier. We are confident that no lady who has any respect for herself, or her husband, will face such an ordeal. Some other plan must be invented by the police, or else there will be an end to all travelling on the part of our ladies.

Where is the woman who would care about going abroad, when she was liable to be stopped at every minute, and forced to produce, for the amusement of some coarse gensd'arme, an ugly photographic portrait of herself? We propose, therefore, that the following system be adopted:--Let M. BAUGNIET, or some other artist as clever in taking portraits, be constantly in attendance at the passport office. He would strike off a likeness in a very short time--such a likeness as, delicately flattered, the lady herself would take a positive pleasure in producing every time she was asked for it. It would be an elegant work of art; which the lady would like, probably, to preserve by her, and the possession of which would also materially enhance the pleasures of travelling. All the expenses to be paid, of course, by the State--for it would be a most ungracious action to ask a lady to pay for her own portrait--or else to be defrayed by the railways, or steam-packets, of the country which the fair traveller intended to visit. The companies would be amply repaid by the influx of passengers, besides having the enviable privilege of claiming copies of all their female visitors. An ample profit, even, might be realized by selling the lithographs, for a lady might be allowed to claim as many copies of her likeness as she pleased, upon the understanding that all copies, beyond the one which was _given_ to her for the necessary police purposes of travelling, were to be paid for. A large revenue might be derived from this branch of the passport system, for what lady would hesitate to take a hundred copies of herself, if she was made extremely handsome?

* * * * *

THE VEGETARIANS IN THE NORTH.

The Vegetarians have been consuming a quantity of green stuff in public at the Town Hall of Salford. We shall expect soon to hear of a variety of Extraordinary Feats performed by geniuses of the Vegetarian class, such as swallowing turnips whole, demolishing spinach by the sieve, onions by the rope, and cabbages by the cartload. We perceive that the Vegetarians have set themselves in opposition to everything like compromise; and a poor unfortunate who endeavoured to meet the Vegetarians half way by living on tapioca, was recently hooted down, and warned of the frightful consequences to be apprehended from the starch in the tapioca, which might lead to stiffness of the joints, and a thousand other maladies.

* * * * *

THE BATTLE OF SPITHEAD.

Of COCHRANE and the Court, Sing the glorious day's renown, When to Spithead did resort All that London could send down Where they lodged the night before, is unknown-- Room to sit, or sleep, or stand, Fancy prices did command: With the houseless, street and strand Thick were strewn.

Many a cockney was afloat, Unaccustomed to the brine; But no wind to speak of blew, And the day was bright and fine; It was ten of Thursday morn by the chime, And no ripple curled in wrath, As they steamed upon their path, And sniffed old NEPTUNE'S breath. Oh, 'twas prime!

Old penny boats, new-brushed, Till they looked quite smart and clean, Their bows plebeian pushed More nobby craft between. "Give 'em coke!" the captains cried; and each one Charged his furnace to the lips, Till steamers, yachts, and ships, The funnel's clouds eclipse-- Dark and dun!

In vain! in vain! in vain! All attempts to keep 'em back;-- With a turn-a-head, again They were right across the track-- Underneath some first-rate's bows, or frigate's boom-- Spite of angry captain's hail, And passengers grown pale, When did Thames' steamers fail, To find room?

The well-bred yachting men Much better did behave, With six pounders and e'en ten Their salute they duly gave, And their burgees to the breeze did smartly fling-- While Solent's shores repeat The thunders of the fleet, That HER MAJESTY to greet, Loudly ring!

Till to the great relief Of eyes and ears and nose, At a signal from the chief The salutes came to a close, And we thought the firing over for the day; While COBDEN and friend BRIGHT Asked themselves "if such a sight Of powder we'd a right To fire away?"

When sudden through the haze, The foemen heave in sight, And again those broadsides blaze In the mimicry of fight-- But yet, from out the cannon's harmless roar, Speaks a warning true and deep, Of the floating powers that sleep, The curse of war to keep From our shore!

The friends of peace may chide, But not the less 'tis true, There's a time our strength to hide, And a time to show it, too; 'Tis not always true economy to save-- Then wherever ocean rolls, From the equator to the Poles, May our hearts of oak bear sail, True and brave!

* * * * *

AN OBTUSE ANGLE?--Attempting to catch a perch with a hook, but no bait.

* * * * *

* * * * *

SPECIAL REVIEW OF THE FLEET.

(_By a Distinct Observer._)

I had the advantage of inspecting the Review of the Fleet from a peculiar point of view. Before me was an enormous volume of smoke, which completely prevented me from seeing the vessels; it was, however, a volume in which I think I read something to the purpose.

There is, perhaps, hardly any mind wherein the tremendous roar of 1,076 guns, the smallest of which are 32 pounders, and the largest throw 68 lb. shot and 84 lb. shells, would not excite some degree of emotion of some sort.

The boom of each Brobdignagian piece of ordnance inspired me with a sum in mental arithmetic, which the immediate thunder of another explosion prevented me from carrying out with strict accuracy. The problem, however, was simple enough. So much noise, so much gunpowder, so much money. So much money; so much taxation. The scene--of smoke chiefly--was too sublime; the noise was too overwhelming; perhaps I had also drunk too much brandy and water: to admit of my COCKERING myself in exact calculation; but I ciphered roughly in a mental soliloquy, thus:--

Bang! There goes the Income Tax. Bang! That's the Succession Duty. Bang! Bang! That's the Stamp and Paper Duties. Bang! Bang! Bang! There's the Assessed Taxes. Bom! the Malt Tax. Pop! the Wine Duties. Pop-pop-pop! The rest of the Taxes on Consumption.

All this money gone in fire and smoke? Not so--the greater part of it, doubtless in national defence and Peace Assurance; but is it not just possible that a rather enthusiastic nation may get a little too fond--as it has been ere now--of gunpowder and artillery; a little too prone, if it does not take care--no disparagement to Chobham Camps and Spithead Reviews--to amuse itself by playing at soldiers and sailors.

Of course it is necessary, to a certain extent, to discharge small arms and to fire broadsides at nothing. But yet, "amid the joy and the uproar" of these imposing high jinks, it may be a useful exercise for the mind of the spectator, if not too much clouded by powder smoke, or other fumes, to count the cost of the cartridges, and compute the dimensions of the hole which they blow in our pocket.

* * * * *

PARLIAMENTARY BULLETIN.

It is useless to affect any further disguise with respect to the condition of an Illustrious Body; or to the human certainty, almost, of that melancholy event which nothing but some unlooked for occurrence, or inconceivable change in the Constitution, can now protract above a few days. The following Bulletin was issued this morning:--

"_St. Stephen's, August 18, 1853._

"Parliament has passed a very unfavourable night; for the most part in a state of extreme prostration: dozing heavily at intervals, but now and then exhibiting symptoms of restlessness. The distinguished patient is happily free from pain, and so completely in possession of the mental faculties as to express a wish for Grouse: but the difficulty of performing the vital functions increases; and the mind of the nation must be prepared for the inevitable result.

{ ABERDEEN, "Signed { PALMERSTON, { J. RUSSELL, { W. E. GLADSTONE."

We cannot be expected to express much sorrow at the approaching departure of the Imperial sufferer from the present Session of existence, already protracted beyond the usual span; and, in fact, will not pretend to say that we shall not consider it a very happy release.

* * * * *

THE REVIEW AT SPITHEAD.--It is wonderful that this affair was not a sad mistake; for there is no doubt that the Reviewers were all at sea.

* * * * *

WHO SENDS ALL THE CONSCIENCE-MONEY?

There is a question we would ask the reader: Did ever he meet with a person who had sent any "conscience-money" to the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER? We have met with many curious people in our lifetime, but we must say we never came in contact with an eccentric individual, who indulged in any peculiarity half so strange as the above. We do not believe such an individual exists. If ever there was a myth, we should say that individual is fairly entitled to call himself one. He must be the myth of all myths; unless perchance it is the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER himself, who sends all these conscience-moneys. We have long had a suspicion of this nature; firstly, because we never see any return of these numerous sums of money entered in the Quarter's Revenue; and, secondly, because we believe he does it to decoy others to do the same. If you notice, these conscientious offerings are generally made in favour of the income-tax. Now, the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER knows very well that this tax is not a popular one. He also knows that, on account of its unpopularity, there is a very large class of HER MAJESTY'S subjects who particularly dislike paying it. Give them but a chance of evading the payment, and they do not in the least scruple availing themselves of it. We do not say whether the practice, so pursued, is honest or not, but such is the fact! The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, therefore, hits every now and then upon the "conscience-money" expedient in order to reproach every man who has been a defaulter with the fact of his non-payment. It is only another way of saying to him, "Why don't you follow his example? Look at A. B.; what a noble-minded fellow he is! By some accident he has neglected to pay £50 for his share of the Income-Tax, and here, by Jove, he has sent it! Now, if _you_ have any conscience, you will immediately do the same."

We cannot say whether any one does send anything. A few pounds may drop in occasionally, but we suspect that the majority of the sums, sent in the name of A. B., or X. Y. Z., and the other popular initials of the alphabet, are forwarded by the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER himself. It is a financial dodge for inducing reluctant tax-payers to do that as a matter of "conscience," which they will not do as a pleasure.

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THE END OF QUACKERY.

Among the many novel systems of medicine for which the present day is remarkable, there is one distinguished by a name that, at least, seems very appropriate. It is called Coffinism. This is candid. The term, however, is so comprehensive, that it might, with great correctness, be applied to all manner of therapeutical schemes which deviate from true medical science. There is one right method of treating diseases, and there are many wrong ones; to all whereof the denomination of Coffinism is justly applicable; since it indicates, with exactness, the tendency of each of them; every improper way of attempting to cure people being a path which leads to the "bourne from which no traveller returns:" in short, which terminates in the elm box.

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A WHISPER IN THE EAR OF NICHOLAS.

We hope we have heard the last of the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA'S Ultimatums, or Ultimata, just as you like to call it. We trust the EMPEROR will bear in mind the old Latin injunction of "_Ne sutor ultra crepidam_", which, for his own particular Imperial use, we beg to alter into "_Ne sutor ultra Ultimatum_."

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CURE FOR A CUT.--Buy a new suit of clothes.

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SONGS OF THE MENDICANTS.

No. 2.--THE SONG OF THE DISTRESSED WEAVER.

Wearily spins the web of life; Dismally London's streets I tread: I've got at home a consumptive wife, And two small children lying dead. (_Aside._) I must indulge a quiet grin-- I shall feel better when I've laughed; My wife's at home consuming gin, While the children sleep with an opium draught.

If my wife and children you could see, I'm sure you'd help me, good Christians all; Believe my wretched tale, and on me In halfpence let your compassion fall. (_Aside._) If my wife and children you wish to meet As soon as she's sober, you'll mayhap Find her in the adjoining street, With the well-drugg'd infants on her lap.

A Weaver I've always been by trade, From the time when I was eight years old; But I've been unfit for labour made, By hunger, over-work, and cold. (_Aside._) Yes, I am a Weaver, I'll stick to that; And my skill will often myself surprise, When I think what precious yarns I spin, And what wondrous webs I weave--of lies.

To beg I'm forbidden by the Act; But Providence will your charity bless, If you'll purchase a small religious tract From a pious Weaver in distress. (_Aside._) Hallo! how's this? I'm fairly caught; A religious tract, I think I said; I've left them at home, and by Jove, I've brought My stock of flash song-books out instead.

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MR. PETERLOO BROWN'S EXAMINATION OF THE OXFORD STATUTES.