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.

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

CIVIL (VERY CIVIL) WAR AT CHOBHAM.

[Illustration: T]

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

[Illustration: THE CAMP AT CHOBHAM--TAKEN ON THE SPOT BY A RISING YOUNG ARTIST.]

* * * * *

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?

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: A BIT OF THE CAMP.

_Mr. Muggins._ "WHAT! FOURTEEN ON YE SLEEP UNDER THAT GIG UMBERELLER OF A THING? GET ALONG WITH YER!"]

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CAMP AT CHOBHAM.--A COLD IN THE HEAD.

_Jones (a Batman.)_ "DID YOU SOUND, SIR?"

_Officer._ "YES, JOLES. BRING ME MY BUCKET OF GRUEL AS SOOL AS I'VE TALLOWED MY _LOZE_." (_Catarrhic for Nose._)]

* * * * *

THE GREAT INDIAN FACT.

[Illustration: A]

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Officer._ "WELL, BUT LOOK HERE, OLD FELLOW; WHY NOT STOP ALL NIGHT?"]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration: A]

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CAMP.--A NIGHT SURPRISE.]

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CAMP

"HEY, COLIN! DINNA YE KEN THE WATTER'S FOR DRINK, AND NAE FOR BATHIN?"]

* * * * *

"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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT OF SARDANAPALUS, KING OF ASSYRIA,

_With a Wine Cup of the Period._]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration: T]

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Gentleman in Cart._ "I SAY, GUV'NOR, BRING US OUT A SPOONFUL O' GIN FOR THE OLD LADY, WILL YER?--AND I'LL TAKE A PINT O' MILD ALE--AND LOOK HERE. I DON'T WANT IT THICK--FOR I _AIN'T HUNGRY!_"]

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CAMP

_Captain Holster._ "HERE! HI! SOME ONE!--STOP MY _BED ROOM!_--HI!"]

* * * * *

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."

[Illustration: A GENTLE REPROOF.

_Grenadier._ "I SAY BILL, I WONDER WHAT THEM LADIES WOULD SAY, IF WE WAS TO GO LOOKING INTO _THEIR_ ROOMS!"]

* * * * *

THE KEY TO THE RUSSIAN QUESTION.

[Illustration: I]

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!"

* * * * *

[Illustration: _First Cock Sparrow._ "WHAT A MIWACKULOUS TYE, FWANK. HOW THE DOOSE DO YOU MANAGE IT?"

_Second Cock Sparrow._ "YAS. I FANCY IT IS RATHER GRAND; BUT THEN, YOU SEE, I GIVE THE WHOLE OF MY MIND TO IT!"]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration: T]

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ANOTHER NIGHT SURPRISE AT CHOBHAM.]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration]

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.

[Illustration: W]

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.

[Illustration]

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE GREENWICH DINNER.--A CONVIVIAL MOMENT.

_Gentleman (under the influence of White Bait)._ "Well, old Fella--Reklect--Preshent Company dine here with me every Monday, Thursday, an' Sat'dy--Friday--No--Toosday, Thursday, an' Sat'dy--Mind an' don' forget--I say--What a good fella you are--Greatest 'steem and regard for you, old fella!!"]

* * * * *

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?

* * * * *

[Illustration: ONE OF THE HORRORS OF THE CHOBHAM WAR]

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE BEAR AND THE BEES.--A NEW VERSION OF AN OLD STORY.]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration]

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.

[Illustration: Now my good man don't be rude--or I must pull you up.]

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CHAGRIN FOR OLD COMMODORES.

[Illustration: A]

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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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[Illustration: NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS.

OH DEAR NO! OLD BR----GGS IS _NOT_ DEAD--HE HAS TAKEN TO YACHTING FOR THE BENEFIT OF HIS HEALTH.]

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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.

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[Illustration: A STARTLING NOVELTY IN SHIRTS.]

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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.

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

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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.

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WHAT IS A CABMAN'S MILE?

[Illustration]

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.

[Illustration: O]

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."

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE NEW ACT. _Hansom Cabby._ "H'M!' SIXPENCE. YOU HAD BETTER KEEP IT. YOU MAY WANT IT FOR YOUR WASHIN' OR SOMETHINK!"]

* * * * *

THE HAT-MOVING TRICK.

[Illustration: F]

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!

[Illustration: A GOOD JOKE.

_Russian._ "OH, IT'S MY FUN! I ONLY WANT TO FRIGHTEN THE LITTLE FELLOW."]

* * * * *

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.

[Illustration]

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.

[Illustration: T]

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."

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CAMP. _Juvenile (apropos of Highlander in sentry box)._ "OH, MY WIG, CHARLEY. WHAT A JOLLY JACK-IN-THE-GREEN HE'D MAKE!"]

* * * * *

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."

* * * * *

[Illustration: AFFECTING IGNORANCE.

Cabman. "_I beg your pardon, Sir, but is my Fare really a Sixpence?_"]

* * * * *

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