ALARMING RAILWAY ACCIDENT.

Illustration-Windswept man on deck of ship

The lights of Calais become rapidly visible, the seas abate, the groaning invalids recover their legs, the poor sick ladies come up from the cabin; we glide into smooth water listening to strange cries from the pier, and finally grate along the quay. We are welcomed to the strand of France bydouaniersin green with round caps, and policemen in blue with cocked hats and yellow shoulder-belts. We must try to admire and love these men, for as long as we remain, they are fated to be our constant companions. The dilapidated troop of travellers is marched into a sort of condemned cell, whence a detachment disappears from time to time to undergo the examination of their passports and luggage. Here comes the first need of the French tongue. The miserable foreigners recover something of their importance, and the Britons, proud of their exemption from the troubles of the sea, begin to find that they are mortal.Hooks-and-eyes, emboldened by excessive draughts of brandy, which make him blink and walk unsteadily, becomes a public character by the wonderful volubility with which he talks an idiom of his own, perfectly unintelligible to the officials. He fancies, it would seem, that he is speaking some Continental language. An hour—two hours—are thus cheerfully spent, and we ultimately settle into a train which ultimately starts. Sleep is rendered impossible by a tin box full of hot water laid at the bottom of the carriage, which, though it certainly warms your feet, brings your knees up to your chin, and at last amounts to an instrument of torture.

The chill of dawn penetrates through voluminous wrappings, and the grey light, as it gradually strengthens, renders visible the drearyface of the country and the haggard unshaven countenances of the travellers. Our young friend, however, is as fresh as a rose and as airy as a lark. "Why, the sunrise is just like the sunrise in England, only not so fine. My eye, look at those pigs! what tremendous legs they've got! That black one is just like a greyhound; he might go for the Derby if he was in condition. Look, there's a clod in wooden shoes. Ah! none of the labourers in Leicestershire wear wooden shoes. That's what my governor said at the last election, when we licked the Freetraders so. Nothing like the British peasantry, their country's pride, when once—I forget how it goes on. Why, they have not got any hedges, just fancy. That isn't good farming, is it,Mr. Jenkins?" That Master of Arts, who, under happier circumstances, might have here given a quotation fromVirgil's Georgics, was meekly prostrate beneath the vicissitudes of travel, and quite unable to reply. As we stop at occasional stations we see groups of happy country people, the women in jackets and white caps, the men in blouses, mounted in open cars, and laughing and jabbering without end. Houses become more frequent—tall, slim, chilly-looking white structures, with Venetian blinds outside each window. More careful cultivation marks the proximity of a great market. Finally, we pass deep ditches, low massive walls, not visible till you are close to them when you see how enormous they are, a ragged suburb, and we are in Paris. A fresh searching of luggage, a light one this time, for butter, eggs, and cabbages, I believe, sets us free—that is, as free as any one can be out of dear Old England.

The philosophic traveller here makes one reflection. What assurance a man must have to bore the British public with the description of a journey that every one has made, and knows as well as he does the Greenwich Railway, or the route from Chelsea to the Bank!

AAN accident, the consequences of which have proved more serious than was at first anticipated, has occurred on the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, the rails and sleepers of which had, we understand, been, for some time previously, in an insecure condition. The result has been damages to the amount of above £7,000, incurred by the Company at the Northern Circuit Assizes for loss of life attributed to that state of things. As the sufferers in this instance are directors, instead of stokers or engineers, the calamity will perhaps prove a salutary lesson to them, by teaching them to make better arrangements for the safety of the public. Many of the victims, we believe, have wives and families, to whom, however, it is not apprehended that their loss will prove unusually distressing.

AN accident, the consequences of which have proved more serious than was at first anticipated, has occurred on the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, the rails and sleepers of which had, we understand, been, for some time previously, in an insecure condition. The result has been damages to the amount of above £7,000, incurred by the Company at the Northern Circuit Assizes for loss of life attributed to that state of things. As the sufferers in this instance are directors, instead of stokers or engineers, the calamity will perhaps prove a salutary lesson to them, by teaching them to make better arrangements for the safety of the public. Many of the victims, we believe, have wives and families, to whom, however, it is not apprehended that their loss will prove unusually distressing.

FURTHER PARTICULARS.

Since the accident, we are informed by our special contemporary, theMorning Post, that the authorities of the Railway in question

"Have issued the following ticket, which passengers on their dangerous line are required to sign, and which we here give word for word as it is printed and issued by these liberal directors:—"'This ticket is issued by the Company and accepted by the holder, upon the express understanding and agreement that the Company are not to be in any way held responsible to the holder, or his representatives, for the consequences ofany accident, however caused, which may happen to the holder while travelling in any of the Company's vehicles, or being at any of the Company's Stations. It must be exhibited to the Company's Officers whenever required, and any person using it other than the person named herein will be liable to the same penalties as a passenger who does not pay his fare.'"

"Have issued the following ticket, which passengers on their dangerous line are required to sign, and which we here give word for word as it is printed and issued by these liberal directors:—

"'This ticket is issued by the Company and accepted by the holder, upon the express understanding and agreement that the Company are not to be in any way held responsible to the holder, or his representatives, for the consequences ofany accident, however caused, which may happen to the holder while travelling in any of the Company's vehicles, or being at any of the Company's Stations. It must be exhibited to the Company's Officers whenever required, and any person using it other than the person named herein will be liable to the same penalties as a passenger who does not pay his fare.'"

We have no reason for supposing that the above agreement is a hoax, which has been palmed off upon our contemporary, or that it is a joke at the expense of those unfortunate people who have been already put to so much. On our mind there is no doubt of its authenticity. We are sorry to say we do not think it calculated to answer its purpose; which is to insure the pockets of the Company against the consequences of those awful accidents which are inevitable on an unsafe line. In the first place, we are of opinion that it would not hold good in law. But even if it were legal, it would only tend to obviate the pecuniary consequences of accidents, by preventing the accidents from occurring; and that simply by deterring the public from running the risk of them. To find a Railway Company demanding to insure their property against his loss of life or limb, as a condition to taking him as a passenger, is rather calculated to reduce a man to a sense of the dreadful situation in which he must place himself by venturing on their line. If they persist in issuing this precautionary ticket, they might as well, for consistency's sake, adorn their stations with death's heads and tombstone cherubim, and cover their platforms with black cloth.

A FACT FOR "MURRAY.A FACT FOR "MURRAY."London Cousin. "See them things, Bill; them's what the swells in Ancient Days put out their veeds with. Nobby move, wasn't it?"

London Cousin. "See them things, Bill; them's what the swells in Ancient Days put out their veeds with. Nobby move, wasn't it?"

It is perfectly well known, and firmly believed by many of the gullible, that some clairvoyants, by the mere inspection of a lock of a patient's hair, are able to ascertain his complaint and also to prescribe for it, without having acquired any knowledge of medicine. We are informed by a person of quality, on whom we can depend, that a certain clairvoyant having had a portion of hair shown to him the other day, instantly pronounced the individual it had belonged to a lunatic, and recommended that the whole head should be shaved. The declaration of the somnambulist was remarkably verified, and the propriety of his advice demonstrated, by the fact, that the individual who had owned the hair turned out to be a gentleman who had been sending conscience money to theChancellor of the Exchequer"for omitted Income Tax."

TheTimescorrespondent writes that English sailors are dying, poisoned by the miasma and mosquito bites at the mouth of the Danube, blocked up by the atrocity of Russia. And what saysAberdeen? Nothing. We have heard of such visitors as a flea in one's ear; now, by way of a memento of dying British tars, we wishLord Aberdeenhad just one mosquito in his night cap.

Battle steamers will, perhaps, in one sense of the word, be correctly denominated Navy tailors, in consequence of cutting out men of war.

Oh!! Look'ee here, Sir"Oh!! Look'ee here, Sir, here's a warm long enough to last you a fortnight."

"Oh!! Look'ee here, Sir, here's a warm long enough to last you a fortnight."

WEDNESDAY—MAY 29, 18—.

"Now, my dearFred—if I could only feel certain you were quite ashamed of yourself, you don't know how comfortable I should be? Call yourself a Christian, and going out murdering people!" I couldn't help saying as much: no, quite the reverse.

"But nobody's hurt," saidFred, laughing. "Besides, now we're the best friends in the world."

"Well, menarecreatures, to be sure! To make friendship over bullets and gunpowder. And supposing you'd been killed? Now, just to satisfy me, just for a moment suppose that?"

Whereupon, in his odd way, he stared in my face; and said he thought the calamity would have mightily become me.

"And to have been made a widow for another person—and that person, one's own servant. But I have givenJosephinewarning"—

"Nonsense!" saidFrederick, and Ididstare. "Nonsense, my darling," he repeated in his tender way; but I was not to be persuaded.

"Why, the creature was bold enough before. But with the thought in her head that her master had been fighting a duel, and all about her, she'd be as conceited, the house wouldn't hold her. Shegoes: now, it's no use talking, ofthatI'm determined."

"And so because a foolish young man—not but what he's a very good fellow—willwrite letters to a silly girl"—

"Oh, never tell me! He'd never have sent letters and nosegays tosucha person, if she hadn't encouraged him."

"Ha! that's how you women help one another! The man begins the injury, and the sister-woman finishes it. No,Lotty; you'll do nothing of the sort. You'll not part withJosephine; and, more than that, you'll see youngBlissto-day. Who'd have thought to fight the brother of"—

"The fisherwoman? Well, it's very odd; I must say it's odd: and if Idoconsent to see him, I know I shall only be laughed at."

"Do what's right,Lotty; and then you may laugh with the laughers."

Now there was such good sense in this, that what could I say? Why, I didn't know; so I just put my arm about his neck.

"Yes, my love, and you'll not crush poorTruepenny"—

"Now, don't ask me that,Fred; that is really too much."

"They'll both be here to-day; and, come, I'll strike a bargain with you,Lotty?"

"A bargain?" said I. "Why, what's the use,Fred, when you always get the best of it? Well, I'm in a foolish good temper, so what is it?"

"If you'll receive youngBliss"—

"But is it really true thatMiss Bliss—the young lady with the artificial flies—is going to be married? Really true?"

"I've told you, I hear next week. That fine young fellow we saw at the church, he's the man. Whentheirhoneymoon is over, I intend to ask them, and youngBliss, too, toThe Flitch."

"Well?" said I, a little relenting. "And now your bargain?"

"You'll see youngBlissandTruepenny—they'll be here to lunch—and we'll start for home, by the first stage to-day, directly afterwards. Is it a bargain?"

"It's two days earlier than we're looked for," said I.

"Very well, let us stop out the time here," criedFred.

"Not another hour. No; now I shall never be fully happy till I'm at home. I do verily believe, I shall go upon my knees and kiss the door-step. SoJosephinehas but to bestir herself—I only hope she'll prove herself worthy of the confidence we place in her; but it's a risk,Fred; depend on it, 'tis a risk."

With this I ran away to my room, and madeJosephinecomfortable, telling her that I thought her a most imprudent, if not a very culpable young woman, to have nosegays and letters sent to her, and so to destroy the peace of families—for it was no use to tell me that she couldn't help the gentleman sending them, that Icouldn'tbelieve;—but nevertheless if, as I believed, she was truly sorry for her conduct, I wouldn't have the heart to throw her upon the wide, wide world; but would much rather prefer to take her home with us, and—if she continued to behave herself—to make her happy as the day was long. I said all this; but I was sorry, really hurt to observe, that the young woman listened to a good deal I said, like any stone. But then for gratitude, who's to expect it?

We soon had everything packed, and I returned toFred. Was ever anything so provoking? Instead ofMr. Blissand thatTruepenny, came two letters of apology.Mr. Blisshad received a sudden call upon his attention that he must obey, but hoped to be allowed to seeFredand "his charming partner"—(and he'd thought nothing of making her a disconsolate widow!)—some day atThe Flitch. As forMr. Truepenny, he declared toFredthat "he had not the courage to meet his wife:" which I considered a very proper compliment to my spirit. I scarcely thought the man had as much remorse and proper feeling in him. And then he added—"P.S. I write this upon my knees, sending my contrition to your estimable partner; with an earnest prayer that, at some distant day, I may be permitted to approach her at her own fireside. Dinner is beyond my ambition as above my deserts: but, I trust, that after due time and penitence, I may hope to be called to the tea-table. May hope still lift up her azure eyes to muffins?"

"I really don't see anything to laugh at," said I toFred, who was mightily amused as he read the letter. And to say the truth Iwasa little vexed. Because I had made my mind up to showFredhow forgivingly I could behave—and then to be disappointed of the opportunitywasvexing.

However, we lunched alone; paid the bill; and—shall I ever forget how I jumped into the carriage? I seemed to have wings!—and away we trundled homewards—homewards!

Home.

I fairly cried with happiness when I crossed the threshold. When I dropt in my chair at my fireside, I felt like the happiest Queen upon her throne. How beautiful, too, everything looked! There seemed a bloom, a brightness upon everything in the house; whilst the garden was glowing, brimming with flowers; all of them nodding at me, as I thought, a welcome.

What a house-warming we've had! And I never can complain of the smallness of the house after such a party! A hundred and fifty, and still plenty of room forRoger de Coverley. Mamma danced withTruepennywho—the foolish fellow!—would go upon his knees on the hearth, and drink a glass of champagne in honour, as he said, of the household gods. We've had merriment enough almost for a life! I begin to be afraid of so much happiness—can it last?

May 1, Twenty-ninth return of Wedding Day.

Thankful, grateful, for all blessings! Happiness has continued; happiness the purest and best, for—as dear, dearFredsays—the happiness was ever home-made.

Lord Palmerstonhas furnished the Women of America with a new answer to the Women of England. The American ladies say that now the Smoke Nuisance Bill has passed, we cannot blame the States for their Runaway Negro Act, inasmuch as we ourselves have made a law to prevent the escape of the Blacks.

The Yankee scheme for purchasing the fictitious title to the American Fisheries from the pretendedEarl of Stirling, comes out under the auspices of an Ex-Secretary of State with the portentous name of—Walker!

THE GREAT BARBARIAN DRAGON

THAT WILL EAT UP "THE BROTHER OF THE MOON

WWHETHER everybody has his price or not; there are some quite capable of selling themselves, even by auction: as, for one instance, we should think, the author of the subjoined advertisement:—

WHETHER everybody has his price or not; there are some quite capable of selling themselves, even by auction: as, for one instance, we should think, the author of the subjoined advertisement:—

AS LEDGER CLERK, Manager, and Correspondent.—A gentleman, of close-sticking business habits, who does nothing by halves, whose references as to character, &c., are first-rate, and whose devotion to his employers' interests ever has been unbounded, is just now open to a RE-ENGAGEMENT. The advertiser is of ripe, vigorous, middle-age, and so undeviatingly systematic, as by the restless force of example, to be qualified to establish, in all around him, habits of perseverance, self denial, and fagging industry, such as could not fail to tell wonderfully, as those habits became more and more fully developed, on any set of people so organised. Clever men of business, who, one and all, admire cleverness in others, and especially when it makes to them its own peculiar bow of the most profound obeisance, are most respectfully requested to address their replies toAlpha Delta, &c., &c.

The gentleman so industriously adhesive certainly does not cry himself up by halves; and the glowing language in which he describes his age as "ripe and vigorous," might well become someYankee George Robinsappraising anUncle Tom. We can vividly imagine him putting himself up, ringing the changes on his ripeness and vigour, first-rate references, undeviatingly systematic ways, close-sticking business habits, and unbounded devotion to his employers' interests: and ultimately, with his "own peculiar bow of the most profound obeisance," respectfully knocking himself down to the best bidder. We should like to buy him at our terms in this manner, if we could afterwards dispose of him at his own. But our friend blows his trumpet with rather too many flourishes; makes overmuch use of the figure hyperbole, to commend himself for employment in those figures that Ledger Clerks are more particularly concerned with.

In the sameTimesthat contained the foregoing announcement, appears also the following:—

NO SALARY REQUIRED.—A young Gentleman, (20 years of age), author of several works, wishes for a HOME. He is a beautiful reader and writer; can write poetry, tales, essays, and anything literary. He is possessed of pleasing manners, kind disposition, and would do all in his power to make himself useful, and contribute to the happiness of those with whom he may become associated. One of his works sent for six stamps. Address Reginald Villiers, &c., &c.

This is a performance on a similar instrument; but it is the clarionet to the cornet-à-pistons. Only 20; a "beautiful" reader and writer; can write poetry, tales, essays, and "anything literary;" and is already the "author of several works." Why, this is a second

"Chattertonthe marvellous Boy,"

and we should say he had better take care that he does not so far resemble

"The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride,"

as to go off, some day, in a fit of vanity and self-conceit.

We are almost inclined to send him six stamps for one of his works, in order that we may ascertain if it is worth a single rap.

TheSheffield Independentannounces thatMr. Roebuck'shealth is so much improved that he has accepted an invitation to the Cutlers' feast. We are happy to hear it, and hopeMr. Roebuckwill do the Cutlers the credit of playing a good knife and fork.

The Chairman of the Committee to the Vulgar (fractional) Public.Air—"Won't you Come and take Tea in the Arbour?"

The Coinage Committee, which sat in the City,At last have completed their labour,And derive from the action intense satisfaction;We're sick of "Colenso" and "Mavor!"But as it may be thought that we mean our "report"For the special behoof of "the City,"Half a page of theTimeswe'll condense into rhymesTo the air of a popular ditty.So, though it's uphilly, give up all your sillyIdeas, which might suit your grandfatherAbout shillings and pence, which are not common sense,And take to the decimals rather!As in loyalty bound, we shall stick to the pound—'Twould be treason the "sovereign" to banish;But all the half-crowns, "bobs", "joeys", and "browns,"Into Royal Mint-sauce must vanish.But we'll leave you theFlorin, which cannot be foreign,As every one lots of them handles,And of these 'twill be found, ten will go to the pound,For all the world like—kitchen candles!Then, though it's uphilly, &c.Still on decimals bent, we descend to theCent(Find its value yourself, if you're able),Divide by ten still, and you'll come to theMilThere, my friends, you've the whole of the table.So we hope by next session, you'll be in possessionOf some sensible decimal money;And pay all little bills in cents, florins, and mils,Never mind if, at first, it seem funny.But, though it's uphilly, &c.Those who talk about "browns," and say "bulls"—meaning crowns,Perchance for "nicknames" may be roarin';Recollect in a "mill" you've ofpounding your fill,And frequently plenty offloorin'.Now, Public! tho' slow—that you're grateful to show(If you are not a stingy, mean sinner),The least you can do, is to just buckle to,And give the Committee—a dinner!Then, though it's uphilly, &c.

The Coinage Committee, which sat in the City,

At last have completed their labour,

And derive from the action intense satisfaction;

We're sick of "Colenso" and "Mavor!"

But as it may be thought that we mean our "report"

For the special behoof of "the City,"

Half a page of theTimeswe'll condense into rhymes

To the air of a popular ditty.

So, though it's uphilly, give up all your silly

Ideas, which might suit your grandfather

About shillings and pence, which are not common sense,

And take to the decimals rather!

As in loyalty bound, we shall stick to the pound—'Twould be treason the "sovereign" to banish;But all the half-crowns, "bobs", "joeys", and "browns,"Into Royal Mint-sauce must vanish.But we'll leave you theFlorin, which cannot be foreign,As every one lots of them handles,And of these 'twill be found, ten will go to the pound,For all the world like—kitchen candles!Then, though it's uphilly, &c.

As in loyalty bound, we shall stick to the pound—

'Twould be treason the "sovereign" to banish;

But all the half-crowns, "bobs", "joeys", and "browns,"

Into Royal Mint-sauce must vanish.

But we'll leave you theFlorin, which cannot be foreign,

As every one lots of them handles,

And of these 'twill be found, ten will go to the pound,

For all the world like—kitchen candles!

Then, though it's uphilly, &c.

Still on decimals bent, we descend to theCent(Find its value yourself, if you're able),Divide by ten still, and you'll come to theMilThere, my friends, you've the whole of the table.So we hope by next session, you'll be in possessionOf some sensible decimal money;And pay all little bills in cents, florins, and mils,Never mind if, at first, it seem funny.But, though it's uphilly, &c.

Still on decimals bent, we descend to theCent

(Find its value yourself, if you're able),

Divide by ten still, and you'll come to theMil

There, my friends, you've the whole of the table.

So we hope by next session, you'll be in possession

Of some sensible decimal money;

And pay all little bills in cents, florins, and mils,

Never mind if, at first, it seem funny.

But, though it's uphilly, &c.

Those who talk about "browns," and say "bulls"—meaning crowns,Perchance for "nicknames" may be roarin';Recollect in a "mill" you've ofpounding your fill,And frequently plenty offloorin'.Now, Public! tho' slow—that you're grateful to show(If you are not a stingy, mean sinner),The least you can do, is to just buckle to,And give the Committee—a dinner!Then, though it's uphilly, &c.

Those who talk about "browns," and say "bulls"—meaning crowns,

Perchance for "nicknames" may be roarin';

Recollect in a "mill" you've ofpounding your fill,

And frequently plenty offloorin'.

Now, Public! tho' slow—that you're grateful to show

(If you are not a stingy, mean sinner),

The least you can do, is to just buckle to,

And give the Committee—a dinner!

Then, though it's uphilly, &c.

(From our Travelling Contributor.)

The British Consulate at Boulogne still "hangs out" over the "tinnery, leadery, and zincery," at the end of the port, as we have ascertained by a recent visit. The ground floor is occupied by a sauce-pan shop, while British diplomacy has taken the floor above, and the frontage of the premises displays a rivalry of attraction between the "British Consular Office for Passports" and the "Bazar des Quatre" something or other, which the tinman adopts as the name of his domicile.

We recognise no change in the arrangements since we noticed the establishment two years ago, except that the individual who represents British diplomacy has got a new cap, is rather more civil spoken than he was, and the boy who runs to call him when he is in another room is grown bigger than he used to be. This is all natural enough, and so far unobjectionable, though we are not quite so well satisfied with a rope that has been attached to one side of the staircase by way of bannisters. On the day of our visit there was a consulartorchon, or diplomatic dishclout hanging to dry on the landing, which we thought savoured of anything but dignity. The rope was well enough as far as it went, and the Consul has given the public just rope enough to hang itself, or rather to pull itself up by, in ascending the staircase. We presume that all this homeliness is as much as the passport fees will afford, and we can only regret, for the credit of British diplomacy, that it is as much dignity as can be sustained upon the four-and-two-pences that pour in on the establishment at Boulogne.

A hair of the dog that bit you is recommended as a cure for the consequences of drunkenness; but when intoxication results in beating women, the dog does not afford so proper a remedy as the cat.

Who was the first "Gent" on record?—The Lawyer, when he was allowed by Act of Parliament to write after his name "Gent, one, &c.."

SCENE.—BUREAU OF THE CHIEFS OF THE DOUANESSCENE.—BUREAU OF THE CHIEFS OF THE DOUANES.French Official."You have Passport?"English Gent."Nong, Mossoo."Official."Your Name."Gent."Belleville."Official."Christian Nom?"Gent."'Arry!"Official."Profession?"Gent."BANKER!"

French Official."You have Passport?"

English Gent."Nong, Mossoo."

Official."Your Name."

Gent."Belleville."

Official."Christian Nom?"

Gent."'Arry!"

Official."Profession?"

Gent."BANKER!"

The stubble-headed PloughboyNo more a-field shall stride,Smock-frocked, with whip on shoulder,The steer or steed to guide;At dawn, no more shall whistleWith early lark and thrush;No longer stalk the fallows,The clods no longer crush.In vacant rumination,No more shall sit on gate;His shanks beneath him danglingBy hob-nailed highlows' weight.That form of grace no longerThe hedgerows shall adorn,His dab of bacon slicingUpon his palm of horn.The Boy—smock, boots, and bacon,And whip,—must yield to Steam;His whistle must be silent,Whilst engines hiss and scream;ForMechihas in actionA new machine e'en now,And says his apparatusWill supersede the Plough.

The stubble-headed Ploughboy

No more a-field shall stride,

Smock-frocked, with whip on shoulder,

The steer or steed to guide;

At dawn, no more shall whistle

With early lark and thrush;

No longer stalk the fallows,

The clods no longer crush.

In vacant rumination,No more shall sit on gate;His shanks beneath him danglingBy hob-nailed highlows' weight.That form of grace no longerThe hedgerows shall adorn,His dab of bacon slicingUpon his palm of horn.

In vacant rumination,

No more shall sit on gate;

His shanks beneath him dangling

By hob-nailed highlows' weight.

That form of grace no longer

The hedgerows shall adorn,

His dab of bacon slicing

Upon his palm of horn.

The Boy—smock, boots, and bacon,And whip,—must yield to Steam;His whistle must be silent,Whilst engines hiss and scream;ForMechihas in actionA new machine e'en now,And says his apparatusWill supersede the Plough.

The Boy—smock, boots, and bacon,

And whip,—must yield to Steam;

His whistle must be silent,

Whilst engines hiss and scream;

ForMechihas in action

A new machine e'en now,

And says his apparatus

Will supersede the Plough.

The Turkish question appears to have subsided into an affair of grease. The subjoined advertisement shows what our Imperial friend has come to:—

BEAR FOR SALE.—A fine large RUSSIAN BEAR, very tame. To be seen on board the Atalanta,Captain Wesenberglying in the West India Import Dock.

Nicholashas come to the West India Dock. We suppose we shall soon have him Promoting the Growth of the Hair, in combination with essence of rose, violet, or bergamot.

The Height of Absurdity.—A Vegetarian attending a Cattle Show.

(On the proposed New Coinage.)

We are, and always were, averse to change. We do not mean to say that we have, or ever had, any objection to those coppers which long custom has hallowed, and which have been consecrated to charity. But when innovation would tamper with the coin of the realm, we, in common with allHer Majesty'sloyal subjects, are necessitated to rally round theSovereign, not only as such, but as represented by monetary subordinates. And when we observe that one of the principal features in the contemplated revolution is the abolition of the Half-Crown, we cannot but consider theCrown, and with theCrowntheThrone, and of course theChurchto be placed in jeopardy. In short, we must record our emphatic protest against the proposed Decimal Currency. It was under the old arrangement of pounds, shillings, pence, and farthings, that the country attained to its present pitch of glory and prosperity. That the Decimal system has been adopted by foreigners is the very reason why we should persist in our own. What is it that makes them so eager to take our money, if not its acknowledged superiority to theirs?

The democratic, indeed the levelling character of the decimal agitation is obvious from one remarkable fact, which, may, perhaps, however, be new to our readers. It is notorious that the lower classes are addicted to the use of slang or flash language, especially in connection with pugilism. Now we have already had introduced a coin of foreign denomination, but domestic orthography. We allude to the piece of money termed a florin, a word which, as spelt by the populace—as many of them as can spell at all—signifies the act of knocking or being knocked down. It is proposed that one of the new-fangled coins shall bear the yet more vulgar appellation of a mil; which in the same vocabulary signifies a fistic encounter.

From a Parliamentary Commission subservient to a Downing Street gang, thus evidently deriving the nomenclature of their projected coinage on the one hand from Continental Jews, Papists, and Infidels; and on the other from theBrummagem Chickenand theTipton Slasher, what can we expect but the overthrow of all our ancient institutions, unless the blow which they are about to aim at all that we hold tender, be parried by a determined exertion of the art of self-defence?

A Regular Pump.—An eminent teetotaller being requested by "a few of his admirers" to sit for his portrait, consented, on condition that it should be taken in water-colours.

A REMINISCENCE OF CHOBHAMA REMINISCENCE OF CHOBHAM—DELIGHTFUL EFFECTS OF A CANNONADE.

"Dear Mr. Punch,

"I venture but once again to trouble you with a few remarks; and, as I am looking forward to my lad matriculating this next October, I shall be glad of your speedy advice as to whether I ought to send him to a place where he will have to swear to observe Statutes like those I have spoken of, and those I am now about to mention.

"The next Statute after 'the herb Nicotiana,' is about the closing of the College gates at 9 o'clock, and says, that if circumstances should call for it (si res ita postulet), the Heads of the Houses shall then go round to each chamber (perlustratis singulorum cubiculis), to see if their tenants are there. This is a delightful rule; and, if circumstances donotcall for the Heads to make their rounds, it only shows that the Statute is obeyed without such supervision. Early to bed, you know,Mr. Punch, not only leads to salubriousness of body and purse, but also conduces to wisdom of intellect; and, doubtless, much of the success of the 'Oxford discipline' that we hear so much about may be traced to this 'early-closing movement.' I am glad to find that my sonPeterloowill not have to carry out the popular idea of a student, by burning 'the midnight oil'—which you and I, as men of the world, know is a mere figure of speech, and only leads to biliousness of body and cutting of morning chapels—but that he will have to be in bed by 9 o'clock, and, possibly, may be tucked up by the Head of the College himself, attended, of course, by bedels and 'holy pokers,' and all the paraphernalia of Collegiate grandeur. And,Mr. Punch, what an instructive subject 'Alma Mater putting her children to bed' would be forMr. Tennielto turn into a cartoon for the new Houses of Parliament; where, in spite of the exertions ofMrs.—I meanMr.—Brotherton, the Memberswillwaste the gas and their health in keeping late hours—a thing they were plainly never allowed to do as long as they were at Oxford!

Nobody must be out of his chamberNobody must be out of his chamber after nine o'clock in the evening.

"The next Statute not only forbids the students to indulge in all games that might be hurtful to themselves (abstineant ab omni lusus genere, in quo de pecuniâ concertatur), but also requires them to abstain from every kind of game or sport which might cause any danger, injury, or inconvenience to others; as, for example, from the hunting of wild beasts with dogs of all kinds, with ferrets, nets, or snares (item quod abstineant ab omni genere lusus vel exercitu, ex quo aliis periculum, injuria, vel incommodum creatur: veluti a venatione ferarum cum canibus cujuscunque generis, viverris, retibus, aut plagis). Oh,Mr. Punch, does Oxford still keep the same position it held in dark centuries ages ago, that it is forced to make its matriculating candidates swear to abstain from the sports of a savage life, which may be all very well for aGordon Cumming, but do not accord with the peaceful pursuits of a cloistered student? And what, I would ask, are the wild beasts for which Oxford is famous? Are they of the same genus as those which my young neighbourBellingham Greyspeaks of? He tells me that Oxford is infested with the varied species of the Ornithorhyncus—the Beast with a Bill—which usually lurk in dens to which they endeavour, by many allurements, to entice their victims; and that, so cunning are they, that they will even steal within the College walls and attack a Student in his own private room, and cannot be got away before they have made him bleed freely. He says that there is no way of capturing these beasts, and that they can only be kept off by Degrees; but, that when once you have found means to settle them, their Bill immediately drops off; and that they are not seen again until their bill has been curiously renewed. I wonder that the manager of the Zoological Gardens don't get hold of specimens of this very curious beast, the Oxford Ornithorhyncus; more especially as they seem to be so common. But I suppose that their difficulty of capture at present stands in the way. But, who knows, but what we shall see them next season among the 'lions' of the Gardens, and eclipsing in interest even the vivarium and the hippopotamus?

Nobody must indulge in sportsNobody must indulge in sports which may cause hurt or inconvenience to others.

The OXFORD ORNITHORYNCUSThe OXFORD ORNITHORYNCUS

"But to return to the Statute. Though I think I smell a badger, yet the word 'ferrets' seems to point at rats. But if, in their humanity, the authorities discourage rat-hunting—which, of course, must be an 'inconvenience' to the rat, even if it cause him no 'danger or injury'—why do they shut their eyes to the legions of terriers, and other rat-killing dogs, that are openly possessed by the members of the University? I am at a loss to know for what species of wild beasts the 'snares and nets' are intended, unless the young men poach for rabbits and hares. But as for fox-hunting, I shall know now how far I may believe youngBellingham Greywhen he says that he, and more than a score of 'pinks' may be seen in a morning, setting off from the Canterbury Gate of Christ Church! And as for the loo, and whist, and 'Van John' that he speaks of, not to mention écarté, and the money that changes hands in one evening, why I am sadly afraid that the young gentleman has been imposing upon my credulity.

Nobody must carry a cross-bowNobody must carry a cross-bow, and a hawk for fowling.

"The Statute goes on to forbid the boys—I beg pardon, the 'men!'—from the use of hawks for fowling, and from the carrying of cross-bows and 'Bombardarum' (necnon ab omni apparatu et gestatione Bombardarum, et arcubalistarum; sive etiam accipitrum usu ad aucupium). Now, I am aware that the old noble sport of hawking is being revived, because I take inThe Field(for, of course, I look upon myself as a 'country gentleman,' and do everything that country gentlemen ought to do), and inThe FieldI sometimes read about it; and I suppose the Oxford gentlemen are assisting in the revival. But, in the name of wonder,Mr. Punch, whatcanbe meant by 'Bombardarum?' Has it anything to do with your Austrian friend 'Bomba?' Or does it mean that the young men must not carry about mortars for the discharge of bombs, or battering-rams, or some 'bombarding' implement 'of that ilk?' But no. 'Town and Gown' disturbances can never need such warlike preparations as these. I suppose I must write to your facetious contemporaryNotes and Queries, and ask what 'Bombardarum' really does mean; for no Latin Dictionary that I have access to is able to inform me. Really,Mr. Punch, myLord Chancellor Derbyought to publish either a translation of the Statutes of his University or a dictionary of these 'Oxford mixture' phrases, 'canino Anglico Latine reddita:' for how can young men be expected to obey Statutes which are made up of words of which the meaning can only be conjectured? And if,Mr. Punch, you take up the cudgels for the Oxford Statutes, and tell me that they are thus purposely framed, and after the fashion of the Statutes of the country, I beg to observe that the seat of learning ought to be stuffed with other stuff than that which fills the woolsack, and that the framers of its laws should not be like the noble and versatileLord of the Upper House, to whom we might say, in the words ofColeridge:—

"'You can utter, with a solemn gesture,Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics!'[4]

"'You can utter, with a solemn gesture,

Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,

Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics!'[4]

"The statutes next call upon the matriculating candidate to swear that he will keep aloof from all rope-dancers and actors, and from the strifes and shows of—gladiators! (Item quod, intra Universitatem Oxoniensem aut Præcinctum, absque speciali veniá Vice-Cancellarii, nec Funambuli nec Histriones, qui quæstús causâ in Scenam prodeunt, nec Gladiatorum certamina sive spectacula permittantur; nec Academici eisdem intersint.) Good gracious,Mr. Punch! is this the nineteenth century—isPunchan institution of our land; have we got a Camp at Chobham, and a Fleet at Spithead, or are weRip Van Winklesin an inverse degree, who have slept backwards into the past? My brain is fairlymuddled, Sir, with the thought that I am about to send my sonPeterlooto a place which I had fondly imagined to be the centre of all enlightenment, and which I now find retains the barbarities of the darkest ages. I don't object to the rope-dancers and actors—although I might perhaps be inclined to ask whyShakspeare, andSheridan, andBulwer-Lyttonshould be condemned as improper; andPlautus,Terence, andJuvenaldecided to be the only pure and proper dramatic guides of youth—I don't object, I say, to my lad going to see the rope-dancing and acting, but I do decidedly object to his even having a chance of obtaining 'the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor' to be present at such degrading exhibitions as the 'sports of the Gladiators.' I shudder to think (and so doesMrs. Brown, Sir), that my lad, who has been so carefully brought up, willreally'see before him the Gladiator lie, his manly form all cover'd o'er with wounds;' and that he will, perhaps—(I can assure you, Sir, thatMrs. Brownis obliged to have recourse to her smelling salts at the bare thought of such horrors)—that he will perhaps set his own slave (or scout) to fight for his amusement, and, like those frightful Romans that he is obliged to read about, will be turning up his thumbs to give the dreadful signal for his wretched servant's death! I must really pause a moment to recover my equanimity. Yet a bright thought strikes me! Perhaps, after all,Mr. Punch, these gladiatorial exhibitions are only intended to assist the students in their classical pursuits, the mind being, we know, often more speedily instructed through an appeal to the eye. And this idea is supported by the words of the Statute that the Students must not be present at such shows without the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor. For, of course, if thereareno gladiatorial exhibitions in Oxford, the candidates for matriculation would not be required to take oaths about them.

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