EPIGRAM.

“A change came o’er the spirit of his dream.”

He thought that the moulting season was over, and that he was rejoicing in the fulness of a sleeky plumage, and by his side was a Java sparrowess, chirping and hopping about, rendering the cage as populous to him as though he were the tenant of a bird-fancier’s shop. Then—he awoke just as Old John was finishing a glass of Madeira, preparatory to arousing Collumpsion, for the purpose of delivering to him a scented note, which had just been left by the footman of Mrs. Waddledot.

It was lucky for John that A.C.A. had been blessed with pleasant dreams, or his attachment to Madeira might have occasioned his discharge from No. 24, Pleasant-terrace.

The note was an invitation to Mrs. Waddledot’s opera-box for that evening. The performance was to be Rossini’s “La Cenerentola,” and as Collumpsion recollected the subject of the opera, his heart fluttered in his bosom. A prince marrying a cinder-sifter for love! What must the happy state be—or rather what must it not be—to provoke such a condescension!

Collumpsion never appeared to such advantage as he did that evening; he was dressed to a miracle of perfection—his spirits were so elastic that they must have carried him out of the box into “Fop’s-alley,” had not Mrs. Waddledot cleverly surrounded him by the detachment from the corps of eighteen daughters, which had (on that night) been placed under her command.

Collumpsion’s state of mind did not escape the notice of the fair campaigners, and the most favourable deductions were drawn from it in relation to the charitable combination which they had formed for his ultimate good, and all seemed determined to afford him every encouragement in their power. Every witticism that he uttered elicited countless smiles—every criticism that he delivered was universally applauded—in short, Agamemnon Collumpsion Applebite was voted the most delightful beau in the universe, and Agamemnon Collumpsion Applebite gave himself a plumper to the same opinion.

On the 31st of the following month, a string of carriages surrounded St. George’s Church, Hanover-square, and precisely at a quarter to twelve, A.M., Agamemnon Collumpsion Applebite placed a plain gold ring on the finger of Miss Juliana Theresa Waddledot, being a necessary preliminary to the introduction of our hero, the “Heir of Applebite.”

“I wonder if Brougham thinks as much as he talks,”Said a punster perusing a trial:“I vow, since his lordship was made Baron Vaux,He’s beenVaux et præterea nihil!”

“I wonder if Brougham thinks as much as he talks,”

Said a punster perusing a trial:

“I vow, since his lordship was made Baron Vaux,

He’s beenVaux et præterea nihil!”

Our great ancestor, Joe Miller, has recorded, in his “Booke of Jestes,” an epitaph written upon an amateur corn-cutter, named Roger Horton, who,

“Trying one day his corn to mow off,The razor slipp’d, and cut his toe off.”

“Trying one day his corn to mow off,

The razor slipp’d, and cut his toe off.”

The painful similarity of his fate with that of another corn experimentalist, has given rise to the following:—

In Minto quies.

Beneath this stone lies Johnny Russell,Who for his place had many a tussel.Trying one daythe cornto cut down,The motion fail’d, and he wasputdown.The benches which he nearly grew to,The Opposition quickly flew to;The fact it was so mortifying,That little Johnny took to dying.

Beneath this stone lies Johnny Russell,

Who for his place had many a tussel.

Trying one daythe cornto cut down,

The motion fail’d, and he wasputdown.

The benches which he nearly grew to,

The Opposition quickly flew to;

The fact it was so mortifying,

That little Johnny took to dying.

Some difficulty has arisen as to the production of Knowles’s new play at the Haymarket Theatre. Mr. Charles Kean and Miss Helen Faucit having objected to hear the play read, “because their respective parts had not been previously submitted to them.”—Sunday Times.—[We are of opinion that they were decidedly right. One might as well expect a child to spell without learning the alphabet, as either of the above persons to understand Knowles, unless enlightened by a long course of previous instruction.]

[pg 90]

[From a MS. drama called the “COURT OF VICTORIA.”

Scene in Windsor Castle.

[Her Majesty discovered sitting thoughtfully at an escrutoire.—

Enter theLORD CHAMBERLAIN.]

LORD CHAMBERLAIN.—May it please your Majesty, a letter from the Duke of Wellington.

THE QUEEN (opens the letter.)—Oh! a person for the vacant place of Premier—show the bearer in, my lord. [ExitLORD CHAMBERLAIN.

THE QUEEN (muses).—Sir Robert Peel—I have heard that name before, as connected with my family. If I remember rightly, he held the situation of adviser to the crown in the reign of Uncle William, and was discharged for exacting a large discount on all the state receipts; yet Wellington is very much interested in his favour.

Enter theLORD CHAMBERLAIN,who ushers inSIR ROBERT,and then retires. As he is going—]

LORD CHAMBERLAIN (aside).—If you do get the berth, Sir Robert, I hope you’ll not give me warning.

[Exit.

SIR ROBERT (looking demurely).—Hem!

[The Queen regards him very attentively.]

THE QUEEN (aside).—I don’t much like the looks of the fellow—that affectation of simplicity is evidently intended to conceal the real cunning of his character. (Aloud). You are of course aware of the nature and the duties of the situation which you solicit?

SIR ROBERT.—Oh, yes, your Majesty; I have filled it before, and liked it very much.

THE QUEEN.—It’s a most responsible post, for upon your conduct much of the happiness of my other servants depends.

SIR ROBERT.—I am aware of that, your Majesty; but as no one can hope to please everybody, I will only answer thatone halfshall be perfectly satisfied.

THE QUEEN.—You have recently returned from Tamworth?

SIR ROBERT.—Yes, your Majesty.

THE QUEEN.—We will dispense with forms. At Tamworth, you have been practising as a quack doctor?

SIR ROBERT.—Yes, madam; I was brought up to doctoring, and am a professor of sleight-of-hand.

THE QUEEN.—What have you done in the latter art to entitle you to such a distinction?

SIR ROBERT.—I have performed some very wonderful changes. When I was out of place, I had opinions strongly opposed to Catholic emancipation; but when I got into service I changed them in the course of a few days.

THE QUEEN.—I have heard that you boast of possessing a nostrum for the restoration of the public good. What is it?

SIR ROBERT.—Am I to consider myself “as regularly called in?”

THE QUEEN.—That is a question I decline answering at present.

SIR ROBERT.—Then I regret that I must also remain silent.

THE QUEEN (aside).—The wily fox! (aloud)—Are you aware that great distress exists in the country?

SIR ROBERT.—Oh, yes! I have heard that there are several families who keep no man-servant, and that numerous clerks, weavers, and other artisans, occupy second-floors.

THE QUEEN.—I have heard that the people are wanting bread.

SIR ROBERT.—Ha, ha! that was from the late premier, I suppose. He merely forgot an adjective—it ischeapbread that the people are clamouring for.

THE QUEEN.—And why can they not have it?

SIR ROBERT.—I have consulted with the Duke of Richmond upon the subject, and he says it is impossible.

THE QUEEN.—But why?

SIR ROBERT.—Wheat must be lower before bread can be cheaper.

THE QUEEN.—Well!

SIR ROBERT.—And rents must be less if that is the case, and—

THE QUEEN.—Well!

SIR ROBERT.—And that the landowners won’t agree to.

THE QUEEN.—Well!

SIR ROBERT.—And, then, I can’t keep my place a day.

THE QUEEN.—Then the majority of my subjects are to be rendered miserable for the advantage of the few?

SIR ROBERT.—That’s the principle of all good governments. Besides, cheap bread would be no benefit to the masses, for wages would be lower.

THE QUEEN.—Do you really believe suchwouldbe the case?

SIR ROBERT.—Am I regularly called in?

THE QUEEN.—You evade a direct answer, I see. Granting such to beyour belief, your friends and landowners would suffer no injury, for their incomes would procure them as many luxuries.

SIR ROBERT.—Not if they were to live abroad, or patronise foreign manufactures: andshouldwages be higher, what would they say to me after all the money they have expended in bri—I mean at the Carlton Club, if I allow the value of their “dirty acres” to be reduced.

THE QUEEN.—Pray, what do you call such views?

SIR ROBERT.—Patriotism.

THE QUEEN.—Charity would be a better term, as that is said to begin at home. How long were you in your last place?

SIR ROBERT.—Not half so long as I wished—for the sake of the country.

THE QUEEN.—Why did you leave?

SIR ROBERT.—Somebody said I was saucy—and somebody else said I was not honest—and somebody else said I had better go.

THE QUEEN.—Who was the latter somebody?

SIR ROBERT.—My master.

THE QUEEN.—Your exposure of my late premier’s faults, and your present application for his situation, result from disinterestedness, of course?

SIR ROBERT.—Of course, madam.

THE QUEEN.—Then salary is not so much an object as a comfortable situation.

SIR ROBERT.—I beg pardon; but I’ve been out of place ten years, and have a small family to support.Wagesis, therefore, some sort of a consideration.

THE QUEEN.—I don’t quite like you.

SIR ROBERT (glancing knowingly at the Queen).—I don’t think there is any one thatyou canhave better.

THE QUEEN.—I’m afraid not.

SIR ROBERT.—Then, am I regularly called in?

THE QUEEN.—Yes, you can take your boxes to Downing-street.

[Exeunt ambo.

Mr. Muntz, we understand, intends calling the attention of Parliament, at the earliest possible period, to the state of the crops.

Lord Palmerston intends proposing, that a looking-glass for the use of members should be placed in the ante-room of the House, and that it shall be called the New Mirror of Parliament.

Mr. T. Duncombe intends moving that the plans of Sir Robert Peel be immediately submitted to the photographic process, in order that some light may be thrown upon them as soon as possible.

The Earl of Coventry intends suggesting, that every member of both Houses be immediately supplied with a copy of the work called “Ten Minutes’ Advice on Corns,” in order to prepare Parliament for a full description of the Corn Laws.

Colonel Sibthorp has expressed his intention of becoming the blue-faced monkey at the Zoological Gardens with hiscountenance, on next Wednesday.

Lord Melbourne has received visits of condolence on his retirement from office, from Aldgate pump—Canning’s statue in Palace-yard—the Three Kings of Brentford—and the Belle Sauvage, Ludgate-hill.

Her Royal Highness the Princess, her two nurses, and a pap-spoon, took an airing twice round the great hall of the palace, at one o’clock yesterday.

The Burlington Arcade will be thrown open to visitors to-morrow morning. Gentlemen intending to appear there, are requested to come with tooth-picks and full-dress walking-canes.

Sir Francis Burdett’s top-boots were seen, on last Saturday, walking into Sir Robert Peel’s house, accompanied by the legs of that venerable turner.

His Grace the Duke of Wellington inspected all the passengers in Pall Mall, from the steps of the United Service Club-house, and expressed himself highly pleased with the celerity of the ‘busses and cabs, and the effective state of the pedestrians generally.

His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex has, in the most unequivocal manner, expressed his opinion on the state of the weather—which he pronounces to be hot! hot! all hot!

A good deal of merriment was caused in the House of Commons, by Mr. Bernal and Commodore Napier addressing the members as “gentlemen.” This may be excusable in young members, but the oldest parliamentary reporter has no recollection of the term being used by any one who had sat a session in the House. “Too much familiarity,” &c.

[pg 91]

A woman sits at a desk while a gentleman looks on.THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.

THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.

[pg 93]

When the Whig Ministry had run,Nor left behind a mother’s son,The Tories, at their leader’s call,Came thronging round him, one and all,Exulting, braying, cringing, coaxing,Expert at humbugging and hoaxing;By turns they felt anhonestzealFor private good and public weal;Till all at once they raised such yells,As rung in Apsley House the bells:And as they sought snug berths to getIn Bobby Peel’s new cabinet,Each, for interest ruled the hour,Would prove his taste for place and power.First Follett’s hand, his skill to try,Upon thesealsbewilder’d laid;But back recoil’d—he scarce knew why—Of Lyndhurst’s angry scowl afraid.Next Stanley rush’d with frenzied air;His eager haste brook’d no delay:He rudely seized theForeignchair,And bade poor Cupid trudge away.With woeful visage Melbourne sate—A pint of double X his grief beguiled;And inly pondering o’er his fate,He bade th’ attendant pot-boy “draw it mild.”But thou, Sir Jamie Graham—prig;What was thy delighted musing?Now accepting, now refusing,Till on the Admiralty pitch’d,Still would that thought his speech prolong;To gain the place for which he long had itch’d,He call’d on Bobby still through all the song;But ever as his sweetest theme he chose,A sovereign’s golden chink was heard at every close,And Pollock grimly smiled, and shook his powder’d wig.And longer had he droned—but, with a frownBrougham impatient rose;He threw the bench of snoring bishops down,And, with a withering look,The Whig-denouncing trumpet took,And made a speech so fierce and true,Thrashing, with might and main, both friend and foe;And ever and anon he beat,With doubled fist his cushion’d seat;And though sometimes, each breathless pause between,Astonished Melbourne at his side,His moderating voice applied,Yet still he kept his stern, unalter’d mien,While battering the Whigs and Tories black and blue.Thy ravings, Goulburn, to no theme were fix’d.Not ev’n thy virtue is without its spots;With piety thy politics were mix’d,And now they courted Peel, now call’d on Doctor Watts.With drooping jaw, like one half-screw’d,Lord Johnny sate in doleful mood,And for his Secretarial seat,Sent forth his howlings sad, but sweetLost Normanby pour’d forth his sad adieu;While Palmerston, with graceful air,Wildly toss’d his scented hair;And pensive Morpeth join’d the sniv’lling crew.Yet still they lingered round with fond delay,Humming, hawing, stopping, musing,Tory rascals all abusing,Till forced to move away.But, oh! how alter’d was the whining toneWhen, loud-tongued Lyndhurst, that unblushing wight,His gown across his shoulders flung,His wig with virgin-powder white,Made an ear-splitting speech that down to Windsor rung,The Tories’ call, that Billy Holmes well knew,The turn-coat Downshire and his Orange crew;Wicklow and Howard both were seenBrushing away the wee bit green;Mad Londonderry laugh’d to hear,And Inglis scream’d and shook his ass’s earLast Bobby Peel, with hypocritic air,He with modest look came sneaking:First to “the Home” his easy vows addrest,—But soon he saw theTreasury’sred chair,Whose soft inviting seat he loved the best.They would have thought, who heard his words,They saw in Britain’s cause a patriot stand,The proud defender of his land,To aw’d and list’ning senates speaking;—But as his fingers touch’d the purse’s strings,The chinking metal made a magic sound,While hungry placemen gather’d fast around:And he, as if by chance or play,Or that he would their venal votes repay,The golden treasures round upon them flings.

When the Whig Ministry had run,

Nor left behind a mother’s son,

The Tories, at their leader’s call,

Came thronging round him, one and all,

Exulting, braying, cringing, coaxing,

Expert at humbugging and hoaxing;

By turns they felt anhonestzeal

For private good and public weal;

Till all at once they raised such yells,

As rung in Apsley House the bells:

And as they sought snug berths to get

In Bobby Peel’s new cabinet,

Each, for interest ruled the hour,

Would prove his taste for place and power.

First Follett’s hand, his skill to try,Upon thesealsbewilder’d laid;But back recoil’d—he scarce knew why—Of Lyndhurst’s angry scowl afraid.

First Follett’s hand, his skill to try,

Upon thesealsbewilder’d laid;

But back recoil’d—he scarce knew why—

Of Lyndhurst’s angry scowl afraid.

Next Stanley rush’d with frenzied air;His eager haste brook’d no delay:He rudely seized theForeignchair,And bade poor Cupid trudge away.

Next Stanley rush’d with frenzied air;

His eager haste brook’d no delay:

He rudely seized theForeignchair,

And bade poor Cupid trudge away.

With woeful visage Melbourne sate—A pint of double X his grief beguiled;And inly pondering o’er his fate,He bade th’ attendant pot-boy “draw it mild.”

With woeful visage Melbourne sate—

A pint of double X his grief beguiled;

And inly pondering o’er his fate,

He bade th’ attendant pot-boy “draw it mild.”

But thou, Sir Jamie Graham—prig;What was thy delighted musing?Now accepting, now refusing,Till on the Admiralty pitch’d,Still would that thought his speech prolong;To gain the place for which he long had itch’d,He call’d on Bobby still through all the song;But ever as his sweetest theme he chose,A sovereign’s golden chink was heard at every close,And Pollock grimly smiled, and shook his powder’d wig.

But thou, Sir Jamie Graham—prig;

What was thy delighted musing?

Now accepting, now refusing,

Till on the Admiralty pitch’d,

Still would that thought his speech prolong;

To gain the place for which he long had itch’d,

He call’d on Bobby still through all the song;

But ever as his sweetest theme he chose,

A sovereign’s golden chink was heard at every close,

And Pollock grimly smiled, and shook his powder’d wig.

And longer had he droned—but, with a frownBrougham impatient rose;He threw the bench of snoring bishops down,And, with a withering look,The Whig-denouncing trumpet took,And made a speech so fierce and true,Thrashing, with might and main, both friend and foe;And ever and anon he beat,With doubled fist his cushion’d seat;And though sometimes, each breathless pause between,Astonished Melbourne at his side,His moderating voice applied,Yet still he kept his stern, unalter’d mien,While battering the Whigs and Tories black and blue.

And longer had he droned—but, with a frown

Brougham impatient rose;

He threw the bench of snoring bishops down,

And, with a withering look,

The Whig-denouncing trumpet took,

And made a speech so fierce and true,

Thrashing, with might and main, both friend and foe;

And ever and anon he beat,

With doubled fist his cushion’d seat;

And though sometimes, each breathless pause between,

Astonished Melbourne at his side,

His moderating voice applied,

Yet still he kept his stern, unalter’d mien,

While battering the Whigs and Tories black and blue.

Thy ravings, Goulburn, to no theme were fix’d.Not ev’n thy virtue is without its spots;With piety thy politics were mix’d,And now they courted Peel, now call’d on Doctor Watts.

Thy ravings, Goulburn, to no theme were fix’d.

Not ev’n thy virtue is without its spots;

With piety thy politics were mix’d,

And now they courted Peel, now call’d on Doctor Watts.

With drooping jaw, like one half-screw’d,Lord Johnny sate in doleful mood,And for his Secretarial seat,Sent forth his howlings sad, but sweetLost Normanby pour’d forth his sad adieu;While Palmerston, with graceful air,Wildly toss’d his scented hair;And pensive Morpeth join’d the sniv’lling crew.Yet still they lingered round with fond delay,Humming, hawing, stopping, musing,Tory rascals all abusing,Till forced to move away.

With drooping jaw, like one half-screw’d,

Lord Johnny sate in doleful mood,

And for his Secretarial seat,

Sent forth his howlings sad, but sweet

Lost Normanby pour’d forth his sad adieu;

While Palmerston, with graceful air,

Wildly toss’d his scented hair;

And pensive Morpeth join’d the sniv’lling crew.

Yet still they lingered round with fond delay,

Humming, hawing, stopping, musing,

Tory rascals all abusing,

Till forced to move away.

But, oh! how alter’d was the whining toneWhen, loud-tongued Lyndhurst, that unblushing wight,His gown across his shoulders flung,His wig with virgin-powder white,Made an ear-splitting speech that down to Windsor rung,The Tories’ call, that Billy Holmes well knew,The turn-coat Downshire and his Orange crew;Wicklow and Howard both were seenBrushing away the wee bit green;Mad Londonderry laugh’d to hear,And Inglis scream’d and shook his ass’s ear

But, oh! how alter’d was the whining tone

When, loud-tongued Lyndhurst, that unblushing wight,

His gown across his shoulders flung,

His wig with virgin-powder white,

Made an ear-splitting speech that down to Windsor rung,

The Tories’ call, that Billy Holmes well knew,

The turn-coat Downshire and his Orange crew;

Wicklow and Howard both were seen

Brushing away the wee bit green;

Mad Londonderry laugh’d to hear,

And Inglis scream’d and shook his ass’s ear

Last Bobby Peel, with hypocritic air,He with modest look came sneaking:First to “the Home” his easy vows addrest,—But soon he saw theTreasury’sred chair,Whose soft inviting seat he loved the best.They would have thought, who heard his words,They saw in Britain’s cause a patriot stand,The proud defender of his land,To aw’d and list’ning senates speaking;—

Last Bobby Peel, with hypocritic air,

He with modest look came sneaking:

First to “the Home” his easy vows addrest,—

But soon he saw theTreasury’sred chair,

Whose soft inviting seat he loved the best.

They would have thought, who heard his words,

They saw in Britain’s cause a patriot stand,

The proud defender of his land,

To aw’d and list’ning senates speaking;—

But as his fingers touch’d the purse’s strings,The chinking metal made a magic sound,While hungry placemen gather’d fast around:And he, as if by chance or play,Or that he would their venal votes repay,The golden treasures round upon them flings.

But as his fingers touch’d the purse’s strings,

The chinking metal made a magic sound,

While hungry placemen gather’d fast around:

And he, as if by chance or play,

Or that he would their venal votes repay,

The golden treasures round upon them flings.

Upon the first interview of the Queen with Sir Robert Peel, her Majesty was determined to answer only in monosyllables to all he said; and, in fact, to make her repliesan echo, and nothing more, to whatever he said to her. The following dialogue, which we have thrown into verse for the purpose of smoothing it—the tone of it, as spoken, having been on one side, at least, rather rough—ensued between the illustrious persons alluded to.

HE.—Before we into minor details go,Do I possess your confidence or no?SHE.—No.HE.—You shall not vex me, though your treatment’s rough;No, madam, I am made of sterner stuff.SHE.—Stuff.HE.—Really, if thus your minister you flout,A single syllable he can’t get out.SHE.—Get out!HE.—But try me, madam; time indeed will showUnto what lengths to serve you I would go.SHE.—Go.HE.—We both have power,—’tis doubtful which is greater;These crooked words had better be made straighter.SHE.—Traighter (Traitor.)HE.—Farewell! and never in this friendly strain(My proffer’d aid foregone) I breathe again!SHE.—Gone. I breathe again!

HE.—Before we into minor details go,Do I possess your confidence or no?SHE.—No.

HE.—Before we into minor details go,

Do I possess your confidence or no?

SHE.—No.

HE.—You shall not vex me, though your treatment’s rough;No, madam, I am made of sterner stuff.SHE.—Stuff.

HE.—You shall not vex me, though your treatment’s rough;

No, madam, I am made of sterner stuff.

SHE.—Stuff.

HE.—Really, if thus your minister you flout,A single syllable he can’t get out.SHE.—Get out!HE.—But try me, madam; time indeed will showUnto what lengths to serve you I would go.SHE.—Go.HE.—We both have power,—’tis doubtful which is greater;These crooked words had better be made straighter.SHE.—Traighter (Traitor.)HE.—Farewell! and never in this friendly strain(My proffer’d aid foregone) I breathe again!SHE.—Gone. I breathe again!

HE.—Really, if thus your minister you flout,

A single syllable he can’t get out.

SHE.—Get out!

HE.—But try me, madam; time indeed will show

Unto what lengths to serve you I would go.

SHE.—Go.

HE.—We both have power,—’tis doubtful which is greater;

These crooked words had better be made straighter.

SHE.—Traighter (Traitor.)

HE.—Farewell! and never in this friendly strain

(My proffer’d aid foregone) I breathe again!

SHE.—Gone. I breathe again!

I cannot rove with thee, where zephyrs float—Sweet sylvan scenes devoted to the loves!—For, oh! I have not got one decent coat,Nor can I sport a single pair of gloves.Gladly I’d wander o’er the verdant lawn,Where graze contentedly the fleecy flock;But can I show myself in gills so torn,Or brave the public gaze in such a stock?I knowthou’lt answer me that love is blind,And faults in one it worships can’t perceive;It must be sightless, truly, not to findThe hole that’s gaping in my threadbare sleeve.Farewell, my love—for, oh! by heaven, we part,And though it cost me all the pangs of hell.The herd shall not on thee inflict a smart,By calling after us—“There goes a swell!”

I cannot rove with thee, where zephyrs float—

Sweet sylvan scenes devoted to the loves!—

For, oh! I have not got one decent coat,

Nor can I sport a single pair of gloves.

Gladly I’d wander o’er the verdant lawn,

Where graze contentedly the fleecy flock;

But can I show myself in gills so torn,

Or brave the public gaze in such a stock?

I knowthou’lt answer me that love is blind,

And faults in one it worships can’t perceive;

It must be sightless, truly, not to find

The hole that’s gaping in my threadbare sleeve.

Farewell, my love—for, oh! by heaven, we part,

And though it cost me all the pangs of hell.

The herd shall not on thee inflict a smart,

By calling after us—“There goes a swell!”

During the clear-out on Wednesday last in Downing-street, a small chest, strongly secured, was found among some models of balloting-boxes. It had evidently been forgotten for some years, and upon opening it, was found to contain the Whig promises of 1832. They were immediately conveyed to Lord Melbourne, who appeared much astonished at these resuscitation of the

A man is covered with children.HOME OFFICE.

HOME OFFICE.

[pg 94]

“It is somewhat remarkable,” observe the journals of the past week, “that the medical division of this scientific meeting has not contributed one single paper this year in furtherance of its object, although the communications from that section have usually been of a highly important character.”

The journals may think it somewhat remarkable—we do not at all; for here, as in every other event of the day, a great deal depends upon being “behind the curtain;” and as the greater portion of our life is passed in that locality, we are always to be relied upon for authenticity in our statements. The plain truth is, that the papers were inadvertently lost, and rather than lead to some unpleasant disclosures, in which the eminent professor to whom they were entrusted would have been deeply implicated, it was thought best to say nothing about them. By chance they fell into the hands of the manager of one of our perambulating theatres, who was toiling his way from the west of England to Egham races, and having deposited them in his portable green-room, under the especial custody of the clown, the doctor, and the overbearing parochial authority, he duly remitted them to our office. We have been too happy in giving them a place in our columns, feeling an honest pride in thus taking the lead of the chief scientific publications of the day. It will be seen that they are drawn up as a report, all ready for publication, according to the usual custom of such proceedings, where every one knows beforehand what they are to dispute or agree with.

Dr. Splitnerve communicated a remarkable case of Animal Magnetism:—Eugene Doldrum, aged 21, a young man of bilious and interesting temperament, having been mesmerized, was rendered so keenly magnetic, as to give rise to a most remarkable train of phenomena. On being seated upon a music-stool, he immediately becomes an animated compass, and turns round to the north. Knives and forks at dinner invariably fly towards him, and he is not able to go through any of the squares, in consequence of being attracted firmly to the iron railings. As most of the experiments took place at the North London Hospital, Euston-square was his chief point of attraction, and when he was removed, it was always found necessary to break off the railings and take them away with him. This accounted for the decrepit condition of thefleur de lysthat surround the inclosure, which was not, as generally supposed, the work of the university pupils residing in Gower-place. Perfect insensibility to pain supervened at the same time, and his friends took advantage of this circumstance to send him, by way of delicate compliment, to a lying-in lady, in the style of a pedestrian pin-cushion, his cheeks being stuck full of minikin pins, on the right side, forming the words “Health to the Babe,” and on the left, “Happiness to the Mother.”

Dr. Mortar read a talented paper on the cure of strabismus, or squinting, by dividing the muscles of the eye. The patient, a working man, squinted so terribly, that his eyes almost got into one another’s sockets; and at times he was only able to see by looking down the inside of his nose and out at the nostrils. The operation was performed six weeks ago, when, on cutting through the muscles, its effects were instantly visible: both the eyes immediately diverging to the extreme outer angles of their respective orbits.

Dr. Sharpeye inquired if the man did not find the present state of his vision still very perplexing.

Dr. Mortar replied, that so far from injuring his sight, it had proved highly beneficial, as the patient had procured a very excellent situation in the new police, and received a double salary, from the power he possessed of keeping an eye upon both sides of the road at the same time.

A cross-eyed womanWILL YOU LOOK THIS WAY, IF YOU PLEASE?

WILL YOU LOOK THIS WAY, IF YOU PLEASE?

An elaborate and highly scientific treatise was then read by Dr. Sexton, upon a disease which had been very prevalent in town during the spring, and had been usually termed the influenza. He defined it as a disease of convenience, depending upon various exciting causes acting upon the mind. For instance:—

Mrs. A——, a lady residing in Belgrave-square, was on the eve of giving a large party, when, upon hearing that Mr. A—— had made an unlucky speculation in the funds, the whole family were seized with influenza so violently, that they were compelled to postpone the reunion, and live upon the provided supper for a fortnight afterwards.

Miss B—— was a singer at one of our large theatres, and had a part assigned to her in a new opera. Not liking it, she worried herself into an access of influenza, which unluckily seized her the first night the opera was to have been played.

But the most marked case was that of Mr. C——, a clerk in a city house of business, who was attacked and cured within three days. It appeared that he had been dining that afternoon with some friends, who were going to Greenwich fair the next day, and on arriving at home, was taken ill with influenza, so suddenly that he was obliged to despatch a note to that effect to his employer, stating also his fear that he should be unable to attend at his office on the morrow. Dr. Sexton said he was indebted for an account of the progress of his disease to a young medical gentleman, clinical clerk at a leading hospital, who lodged with the patient in Bartholomew-close. The report had been drawn up for theLancet, but Dr. S. had procured it by great interest.

MAY 30, 1841, 11 P.M.—Present symptoms:—Complains of his employer, and the bore of being obliged to be at the office next morning. Has just eaten a piece of cold beef and pickles, with a pint of stout. Pulse about 75, and considerable defluxion from the nose, which he thinks produced by getting a piece of Cayenne pepper in his eye. Swallowed a crumb, which brought on a violent fit of coughing. Wishes to go to bed.MAY 31, 9 A.M.—Has passed a tolerable night, but appears restless, and unable to settle to anything. Thinks he could eat some broiled ham if he had it; but not possessing any, has taken the following:℞—Infus. coffeelbjSacchariʒiijLactis Vaccæ℥jFt. mistura, poculum mane sumendum.A plaster ordered to be applied to the inside of the stomach, consisting of potted bloater spread upon bread and butter.Eleven, A.M.—Appears rather hotter since breakfast. Change of air recommended, and Greenwich decided upon.Half-past 11.—Complains of the draught and noise of the second-class railway carriages, but is otherwise not worse. Thinks he should like “a drain of half-and-half.” Has blown his nose once in the last quarter of an hour.Two, P.M.—Since a light dinner of rump steaks and stout, a considerable change has taken place. He appears labouring under cerebral excitement and short pipes, and says he shall have a regular beanish day, and go it similar to bricks. Calls the waiter up to him in one of the booths, and has ordered “a glass of cocktail with the chill off and a cinder in it.”Three, P.M.—Has sallied out into the fair, still much excited, calling every female he meets “Susan,” and pronouncing the s’s with a whistling accent. Expresses a desire to ride in the ships that go round and round.Half-past 3.—The motion of the ships has tended considerably to relieve his stomach. Pulse slow and countenance pale, with a desire for a glass of ale. Has entered a peepshow, and is now arguing with the exhibitor upon the correctness of his view of the siege of “St. Jane Daker!” which he maintains was a sea-port, and not a field with a burning windmill, as represented in the view.Eight, P.M.—After rambling vaguely about the fair all the afternoon, he has decided upon taking a hot-air bath in Algar’s Crown and Anchor booth. Evidently delirious. Has put on a false nose, and purchased a tear-coat rattle. Appears labouring under violent spasmodic action of the muscles of his legs, as he dances “Jim along Josey,” when he sets to his partner in a country dance of eighty couple.Half-past 10, P.M.—Has just intimated that he does not see the use of going home, as you can always go there when you can go nowhere else. Is seated straddling across one of the tables, on which he is beating time to the band with a hooky stick. Will not allow the state of his pulse to be ascertained, but says we may feel his fist if we like.Eleven.—Considerable difficulty experienced in getting the patient to the railroad, but we at last succeeded. After telling every one in the carriage “that he wasn’t afraid of any of them,” he fell into a deep stertorous sleep. On arriving at home, he got into bed with his boots on, and passed a restless night, turning out twice to drink water between one and four.JUNE.—10, A.M.—Has just returned from his office, his employer thinking him very unfit for work, and desiring him to lay up for a day or two. Complains of being “jolly seedy,” and thinks he shall go to Greenwich again to get all right.

MAY 31, 9 A.M.—Has passed a tolerable night, but appears restless, and unable to settle to anything. Thinks he could eat some broiled ham if he had it; but not possessing any, has taken the following:

A plaster ordered to be applied to the inside of the stomach, consisting of potted bloater spread upon bread and butter.

Eleven, A.M.—Appears rather hotter since breakfast. Change of air recommended, and Greenwich decided upon.

Half-past 11.—Complains of the draught and noise of the second-class railway carriages, but is otherwise not worse. Thinks he should like “a drain of half-and-half.” Has blown his nose once in the last quarter of an hour.

Two, P.M.—Since a light dinner of rump steaks and stout, a considerable change has taken place. He appears labouring under cerebral excitement and short pipes, and says he shall have a regular beanish day, and go it similar to bricks. Calls the waiter up to him in one of the booths, and has ordered “a glass of cocktail with the chill off and a cinder in it.”

Three, P.M.—Has sallied out into the fair, still much excited, calling every female he meets “Susan,” and pronouncing the s’s with a whistling accent. Expresses a desire to ride in the ships that go round and round.

Half-past 3.—The motion of the ships has tended considerably to relieve his stomach. Pulse slow and countenance pale, with a desire for a glass of ale. Has entered a peepshow, and is now arguing with the exhibitor upon the correctness of his view of the siege of “St. Jane Daker!” which he maintains was a sea-port, and not a field with a burning windmill, as represented in the view.

Eight, P.M.—After rambling vaguely about the fair all the afternoon, he has decided upon taking a hot-air bath in Algar’s Crown and Anchor booth. Evidently delirious. Has put on a false nose, and purchased a tear-coat rattle. Appears labouring under violent spasmodic action of the muscles of his legs, as he dances “Jim along Josey,” when he sets to his partner in a country dance of eighty couple.

Half-past 10, P.M.—Has just intimated that he does not see the use of going home, as you can always go there when you can go nowhere else. Is seated straddling across one of the tables, on which he is beating time to the band with a hooky stick. Will not allow the state of his pulse to be ascertained, but says we may feel his fist if we like.

Eleven.—Considerable difficulty experienced in getting the patient to the railroad, but we at last succeeded. After telling every one in the carriage “that he wasn’t afraid of any of them,” he fell into a deep stertorous sleep. On arriving at home, he got into bed with his boots on, and passed a restless night, turning out twice to drink water between one and four.

JUNE.—10, A.M.—Has just returned from his office, his employer thinking him very unfit for work, and desiring him to lay up for a day or two. Complains of being “jolly seedy,” and thinks he shall go to Greenwich again to get all right.

A thrilling paper upon the “Philosophy of death,” was then read by Professor Wynne Slow. After tracing the origin of that fatal attack, which it appears the earliest nations were subject to, the learned author showed profound research in bringing forward the various terms applied to the act of dying by popular authors.[pg 95]Amongst the principal, he enumerated “turning your toes up,” “kicking the bucket,” “putting up your spoon,” “slipping your wind,” “booking your place,” “breaking your bellows,” “shutting up your shop,” and other phrases full of expression.

The last moments of remarkable characters were especially dwelt upon, in connexion, more especially, with the drama, which gives us the best examples, from its holding a mirror up to nature. It appeared that at Astley’s late amphitheatre, the dying men generally shuffled about a great deal in the sawdust, fighting on their knees, and showing great determination to the last, until life gave way; that at the Adelphi the expiring character more frequently saw imaginary demons waiting for him, and fell down, uttering “Off, fiends! I come to join you in your world of flames!” and that clowns and pantaloons always gave up the ghost with heart-rending screams and contortions of visage, as their deaths were generally violent, from being sawn in half, having holes drilled in them with enormous gimlets, or being shot out of cannon; but that, at the same time, these deaths were not permanent.

Our foreign expresses have reached usviaBillingsgate, and are full of interesting matter. Captain Fitz-Flammer is in prison at Boulogne, for some trifling misunderstanding with a native butcher, about the settlement of an account; but we trust no time will be lost by our government in demanding his release at the hands of the authorities. The attempt to make it a private question is absurd; and every Englishman’s blood will simmer, if it does not actually boil, at the intelligence. Fitz-Flammer was only engaged in doing that which many of our countrymen visit Boulogne expressly to do, and it is hard that he should have been intercepted in his retreat, after accomplishing his object. To live at the expense of a natural enemy is certainly a bold and patriotic act, which ought to excite sympathy at home, and protection abroad. The English packet, theCity of Boulogne, has turned one of its imitation guns directly towards the town, which, we trust, will have the effect of bringing the French authorities to reason.

It is expected that the treaty will shortly be signed, by which Belgium cedes to France a milestone on the north frontier; while the latter country returns to the former the whole of the territory lying behind a pig-stye, taken possession of in the celebrated 6thvendemiaire, by the allied armies. This will put an end to the heart-burnings that have long existed on either side of the Rhine, and will serve to apply the sponge at once to a long score of national animosities.

Our letters from the East are far from encouraging. The Pasha has had a severe sore-throat, and the disaffected have taken advantage of the circumstance. Ibrahim had spent the two last nights in the mountains, and was unfurling his standard, when our express left, in the very bosom of the desert. Mehemet Ali was still obstinate, and had dismissed his visier for impertinence. The whole of Servia is in a state of revolt, and the authorities have planted troops along the entire line, the whole of whom have gone over to the enemy. It is said there must be further concessions, and a new constitution is being drawn up; but it is not expected that any one will abide by it. Mehemet attempted to throw himself upon the rock of Nungab, with a tremendous force, but those about him wisely prevented him from doing so.

We have received China (tea) papers to the 16th. There is nothing in them.

“The Duke of Wellington,” says a correspondent of theTimes, “left his umbrella behind him at a fancy fair, held for charitable purposes, between Twickenham and Teddington. On discovering it, Lady P. immediately said, ‘Who will give twenty guineas for the Duke’s umbrella?’ A purchaser was soon found; and when the fact was communicated to his Grace, he good-naturedly remarked, ‘I’ll soon supply you with umbrellas, if you can sell them with so much advantage to the charity.’” We trust his Grace’s benevolent disposition will not induce him to carry this offer into execution. We should extremely regret to see the Hero of Waterloo in Leicester-square, of a rainy night, vending second-handparapluies. The same charitable impulse will doubtlessly induce other fashionable hawkers at fancy fairs to pick his Grace’s pockets. We are somewhat curious to know what a Wellington bandana would realise, especially were it the produce of some pretty lady P.’s petty larceny. “Charity,” it is said, “covereth a multitude of sins.” What must it do with an umbrella? We fear that Lady P. will some day figure in the “fashionable departures.”

A man picks another's pocketFOR SYDNEY DIRECT.

FOR SYDNEY DIRECT.

The production upon the stage of a tragedy “not intended for an acting play,” as a broad travestie, is a novel and dangerous experiment—one, however, which the combined genius of the Dramatic Authors’ Council has made, with the utmost success. The “Hungarian Daughter” was, under the title of “Martinuzzi,” received, on its first appearance, with bursts of applause and convulsions of laughter!

The plot of this piece our literary reviewer has expressed himself unable to unravel. We are in the same condition; all we can promise is some account of the scenes as they followed each other; of the characters, the sentiments, the poetry, and the rest of the fun.

The play opens with an elderly gentleman, in a spangled dressing-gown, who commences business by telling us the time of day, poetically clapping a wig upon the sun, by saying, he

“Shakes day about, like perfume from hishair,”

which statement bears out the after sentence, that “the wisdom he endures is terrible!” An Austrian gentleman—whose dress made us at first mistake him for Richard III. on his travels—arrives to inform the gentlemanen déshabille—no other thanCardinal Martinuzzihimself—that he has come from King Ferdinand, to ask if he will be so good as to give up some regency; which the Cardinal, however, respectfully declines doing. A gentleman from Warsaw is next announced, andCastaldoretires, having incidentally declared a passion for the reigning queen of Hungary.

Mr. Selby, asRupertfrom Warsaw, then appears, in a dress most correctly copied from the costume of the knave of clubs. Being a Pole, he stirs up the Cardinal vigorously enough to provoke some exceedingly intemperate language, chiefly by bringing to his memory a case of child-stealing, to whichMartinuzziwas, before he had quite sown his wild oats,particeps criminis. This case having got into the papers (whichRuperthad preserved), the Cardinal wants to obtain them, but offers a price not long enough for the Pole, who, declaring thatMartinuzzicarries it “too high” to be trusted with them, vanishes. Mr. Morley afterwards comes forward to sing a song according to Act of Parliament, and the scene changes for Miss Collect to comply, a second time, with the 25th of George II.

In the following scene, the Queen Dowager of Hungary,Isabella, introduces herself to the audience, to inform them that the Austrian gentleman,Castaldo, is

“the mild,Pity-fraught object of her fondness.”

“the mild,

Pity-fraught object of her fondness.”

He appears. She makes several inflammatory speeches, which he seems determined not to understand, for he is in love with the virgin queen; and maidens before dowagers is evidently his sensible motto.

The second act opens with the queen junior stating her assurance, that if she lives much longer she will die, and that when she is quite dead, she will hateMartinuzzi33. “Czerina.When I am dead—which will be soon—I feel,If I much longer on my throne remain,I shall abhor the name of Martinuzzi.”. As, however, she means to hate when she is deceased, she will make the most of her time while alive, by devoting herself to courtship andCastaldo: for a very tender love-scene ensues, at the end of which the lady elopes, to leave the lover a clear stage for some half-dozen minutes’ ecstatics, appropriately ended by his arrest, ordered byMartinuzzi. Why, it is not stated, the officer not even producing the copy of a writ.

In the next scene,Isabellais visited byRupert, who disinterestedly presents the dowager with the papers for nothing, which he was before offered an odd castle and snug estate for, byMartinuzzi. This is accounted for on no other supposition, than the proverbial gallantry of gentlemen from Warsaw.

Martinuzzi, possessing a ward whom he is anxious should wed the queen, opens the third act by declaring he will “precipitate the match,” and so the author considerately sendsCzerinato him, to talk the matter over. But the young lady gets into a passion, and the Cardinal declares he can make nothing of her, in the following passage:—

“Fool! I can make thee nothing but a laugh.”

A sentiment to which the audience gave a most vociferous echo. The damsel is angry that she may not have the man she has chosen, and threatens to faint, but defers that operation till her lover’s arms are near enough to receive her; which they happen to be just in time, forMartinuzziretires andCastaldocomes on.Czerina, to be quite sure, exclaims, “Arethese thy arms?” (sic) and finally faints in the lover’s embrace, so as to exhibit a picturesque cuddle.

Queen Isabellais discovered, in the second scene of this act, perusing the much vaunted “papers” with intense interest. UnluckilyCastaldochooses that moment to complain, thatMartinuzziwill not let him marry her rival. The queen, being by no means a temperate person, and wondering at his impudence in tellinghersuch a tale, raves thus:—

“My soul’s on fire I’m choked, and seem to perish;But will suppress my scream”

“My soul’s on fire I’m choked, and seem to perish;

But will suppress my scream”

Probably for fear of compromisingCastaldo, who is alone with her; and she ends the act by requesting the Austrian to murderMartinuzzi; to which he is so obliging as to consent, the more so, as an order comes from the Secretary of State for foreign affairs, of his own government, to “cut off” (sic) the Regent.

The fourth act is enlivened by a masquerade and a murder. The gentleman from Warsaw having abused the hospitality of his host by getting drunk, is punished by one ofMartinuzzi’sattendants with a mortal stab; and having, in the agonies of death, made a careful survey of all the sofas in the apartment, suits himself with the softest, and dies in great comfort.

[pg 96]

After this, the masquerade proceeds with spirit.Isabellamixes in the festive scene, disguised in a domino, made of black sticking-plaster.Czerinaoverhears that she is a usurper and a changeling, and expresses her surprise in a line most unblushingly stolen from Fitz-Ball and the other poetico-melo-dramatists:—

“Merciful Heavens! do my ears deceive me?”

The festivities conclude with an altercation betweenMartinuzziandIsabella, carried on with much vigour on both sides. The lady accuses the gentleman of inebriation, and he owns the soft impeachment, fully bearing it out by several incoherent speeches.

This was one of the most successful scenes in the comedy. The death ofRupert, Mr. Morley’s song about “The sea,” the quarrel (which was about the great pivot of the plot, “the papers,” inscribed, saysMartinuzzi,

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