Chapter II: A pontificating man with his arms outstretched in the shape (4)

Ladies who have lost the registries of their birth can be supplied with new ones, for any year they please, and the greatest care will be taken to make them accord with the early recollections of the ladys schoolfellows and cousins of the same age.

Gentlemen who wear wigs, false calves, or artificial teeth, or use hair- dye, &c., will be required to state the same, as no deception can be countenanced by Lord J.R.

Ladies are only required to certify as to the originality of their teeth; and as Lady Russell will attend exclusively to this department, no disclosure will take place until all other preliminaries are satisfactorily arranged.

Young gentlemen with large mustachios and small incomes will find the MATRIMONIAL AGENCY OFFICE well worthy their attention; and young ladies who play the piano, speak French, and measure only eighteen inches round the waist, cannot better consult their own interests than by making an early application.

N.B. None with red hair need apply, unless with a mothers certificate that it was always considered to be auburn.

Wanted several buxom widows for the commencement. If in weeds, will be preferred.

MATTERS IN FACT, AND MATTERS IN LAW. Law is the perfection of reason! said, some sixty years ago, an old powder-wigged priest of Themis, in his enthusymusy for the venerable lady; and what one of her learned adorers, from handsome Jock Campbell down to plain Counsellor Dunn, would dare question the maxim? A generous soul, who, like the fabled lady of the Arabian tale, drops gold at every word she utters, varying in value from one guinea to five thousand, according to the quality of the hand that is stretched forth to receive it, cannot possibly be other than reason herself. But to appreciate this dear creature justly, it is absolutely necessary to be in her service. No ordinary lay person can judge her according to her deserts. You must be initiated into her mysteries before you can detect her beauties; but once admitted to her august presenceonce enrolled as her sworn slaveyour eyes become opened and clear, and you see her as she is, the marvel of the world. Yet, though so difficult of comprehension, no man, nor woman, nor child, must plead ignorance of her excellencies. To be ignorant of any one of them is an impossibility as palpable as that the Queen can do no wrong, or any other admirable fiction which the genius of our ancestors has bequeathed us. We all must know the law, or be continually whipped! A hard rule, though an inflexible one. But the schoolmaster is abroadPUNCH, that teaches all, must teach the law; and, as a preliminary indispensable, he now proceeds to give a few definitions of the principal matters contained in that science, which bear a different meaning from what they would in ordinary language. The admiring neophyte will perceive with delight the vast superiority apparent in all cases of matters of law, or matters of fact.

To illustrate:When a lovely girl, all warmth and confidence, steals on tiptoe from her lonely chamber, and, lighted by the moon, when pas asleep, drops from the balcony into the arms of some soft youth, as warm as she, who has been waiting to whisk her off to Hymens altarthat is generally understood as

A young woman kisses her beau from a window so hard it knocks his hat off. AN ATTACHMENT IN FACT.

When an ugly bum, well up to trap, creeps like a rascal from the sheriffs-office, and with his capias armed, ere you are half-dressed, gives you the chase, and, as you leg away for the bare life, his knuckles dig into the seat of your unmentionables, gripping you like a tigerthat indeed is une autre chose, that is

An official-looking man grabs a running-away man by the pants. AN ATTACHMENT IN LAW.

When you remark a round, rosy, jolly fellow, shining from top to toe, philandering down Regent-street, with a self-satisfied grin, that seems to say, Match me that, demme! and casting looks of pitymellowed through his eye-glasson all passers, you may fairly conclude that that happy dog has just slipped into

A dapper, fashionable fellow. A BOND-STREET SUIT.

But when you perceive a gaunt, yellow spectre of a man, reduced to his last chemise, and that a sad spectacle of ancient purity, starting from Lincolns-Inn, and making all haste for Waterloo-bridge, the inference is rather natural, that he is blessed with

A bedraggled, nearly unclothed, man running. A SUIT IN CHANCERY.

It being dangerous to take too great a meal at a time, and PUNCH knowing well the difficulty of digesting properly over-large quantities of mental food, he concludes his first lecture on LAW. Whether he will continue here his definitions of legal terms, or not, time and his humour shall determine.

A DRESS REHEARSAL. Lord Melbourne, imitating the example of the ancient philosophers, is employing the last days of his political existence in composing a learned discourse On the Shortness of Ministerial Life. To try the effect of it, his lordship gives a full dress dinner-party, immediately after the meeting of Parliament, to several of his friends. On the removal of the cloth, he will read the essay, and then the Queens intended speech, in which she civilly gives his lordship leave to provide himself with another place. Where, in the whole range of history, could we meet with a similar instance of magnanimity? Where, with such a noble pictureof a great soul rising superior to adversity? Seneca in the bath, uttering moral apophthegms with his dying breathSocrates jesting over his bowl of hemlock juicewere great creaturesimmense minds; but Lord Melbourne reading his own dismissal to his friendsafter dinner, too!over his first glass of wineleaves them at an immeasurable distance. Oh! that we had the power of poor Wilkie! what a picture we could make of such a subject.

[pg 60] THE DRAMA. VAUXHALL GARDENS. Some of the melancholy duties of this life afford a more subdued, and, therefore, a more satisfactory pleasure than scores with which duty has nothing to do, or those of mere enjoyment. If, for instance, the friend, whose feeds we have helped to eat, whose cellars we have done our part to empty for the last quarter of a century, should happen to fall ill; if the doctors shake their heads, and warn us to make haste to his bedside, there is always a large proportion of honey to be extracted, in obeying the summons, out of the sting of parting, recounting old reminiscences, and gossipping about old times, never, alas! to return. But should we neglect the summons, where would the stings of conscience end?

Impelled by such a sense of duty, we wended our way to the royal property, to take a last look at the long-expiring gardens. It was a wet nightthe lamps burnt dimlythe military band played in the minor keythe waiters stalked about with so silent, melancholy a tread, that we took their towels for pocket-handkerchiefs; the concert in the open rain went off tamelydirge-like, in spite of the Siege of Acre, which was described in a set of quadrilles, embellished with blue fire and maroons, and adorned with a dozen double drums, thumped at intervals, like death notes, in various parts of the doomed gardens. The divertissement was anything but diverting, when we reflect upon the impending fate of the Rotunda, in which it was performed.

No such damp was, however, thrown over the evolutions of Ducrows beautiful horses and equestrian artistes, including the new grand entrée, and cavalcade of Amazons. They had no sympathy with the decline and fall of the Simpsonian empire. They were strangers, interlopers, called in like mutes and feathers, to grace the funeral show, to give a more graceful flourish to the final exit. The horses pawed the sawdust, evidently unconscious that the earth it covered would soon be let on lease for building ground; the riders seemed in the hey-day of their equestrian triumph. Let them, however, derive from the fate of Vauxhall, a deep, a fearful lesson!though we shudder as we write, it shall not be said that destruction came upon them unawaresthat no warning voice had been raisedthat even the squeak of PUNCH was silent! Let them not sneer, and call us superstitiouswe do not give credence to supernatural agency as a fixed and general principle; but we did believe in Simpson, and stake our professional reputation upon Widdicomb.

That Vauxhall gardens were under the especial protection of, that they drew the very breath of their attractiveness from, the ceremonial Simpson, who can deny? When he flitted from walk to walk, from box to box, and welcomed everybody to the royal property, right royally did things go on! Who would then have dreamt that the illustrious Georgehe of the Piazzawould ever be honoured with instructions to sell; that his eulogistic pen would be employed in giving the puff superlative to the Elysian haunts of quondam fashionin other words, in painting the lily, gilding refined gold? But, alas! Simpson, the tutelar deity, has departed (died, some say, but we dont believe it), and at the moment he made his last bow, Vauxhall ought to have closed; it was madnessthe madness which will call us, peradventure, superstitiouswhich kept the gates open when Simpsons career closedit was an anomaly, for like Love and Heaven, Simpson was Vauxhall, and Vauxhall was Simpson!

Let Ducrow reflect upon these thingswe dare not speak outbut a tutelar being watches over, and giveth vitality to his arenahis ring is, he may rely upon it, a fairy onewhile that mysterious being dances and prances in it, all will go well; his horses will not stumble, never will his clowns forget a syllable of their antiquated jokes. O! let him then, while seriously reflecting upon Simpson and the fate of Vauxhall, give good heed unto the Methuselah, who hath already passed his second centenary in the circle!

These were our awful reflections while viewing the scenes in the circle, very properly constructed in the Rotunda. They overpowered uswe dared not stay to see the fireworks, in the midst of which Signora Rossini was to make her terrific ascent and descent on a rope three hundred feet high. She might have been the sprite of Madame Saqui; in fact, the Vauxhall Papers published in the gardens, put forth a legend, which favours such a dreadful supposition! We refer our readers to themthey are only sixpence a-piece.

Of course the gardens were full in spite of the weather; for what must be the callousness of that man who could let the gardens pass under the hammer of George Robins, without bidding them an affecting farewell? Good gracious! We can hardly believe such insensibility does exist. Hasten then, dear readers, as you would fly to catch the expiring sigh of a fine old boon companionhasten to take your parting slice of ham, your last bowl of arrack, even now while the great auctioneer says Going.

For your sake, and yours only, Alfred Bunn (whose disinterestedness has passed into a theatrical proverb), arrests the arm of his friend of the Auction Mart in its descent. Attend to his bidding. Do notoh! do not wait till the vulcan of the Bartholomew-lane smithy lets fall his hammer upon the anvil of pleasure, to announce that the Royal Property isGone!

A man tips his hat to a skeleton, who tips his crown in return. WELCOME TO THE ROYAL PROPERTY.

A LADY AND GENTLEMAN IN A PECULIARLY PERPLEXING PREDICAMENT. Mrs. Waylett and Mr. Keeley were the lady and gentleman who were placed in the peculiarly perplexing predicament of making a second-hand French interlude supportable to an English Opera audience. In this they more than succeededfor they caused it to be amusing; they made the most of what they had to do, which was not much, and of what they had to say, which was a great deal too much; for the piece would be far more tolerable if considerably shorn of its unfair proportions. The translator seems to have followed the verbose text of his original with minute fidelity, except where the idioms bothered him; and although the bills declare it is adapted by Mr. Charles Selby to the English stage, the thing is as essentially French as it is when performed at the Palais Royal, except where the French language is introduced, when, in every instance, the labours of correct transcription were evidently above the powers of the translator. The best part of the adaptation is the exact fitness of the performers to their parts; we mean as far as concerns their personnel.

Of course, all the readers of PUNCH know Mr. Keeley. Let them, then, conceive him an uncle at five-and-thirty, but docking himself of six years age when asked impertinent questions. He has a head of fine auburn hair, and dresses in a style that a badaud would call quiet; that is to say, he wears brass buttons to his coat, which is green, and adorned with a velvet collar. In short, it is not nearly so fine as Lord Palmerstons, for it has no velvet at the cuffs; and is not embroidered. Add white unhintables, and you have an imaginative portrait of the hero. But the heroine! Ah! she, dear reader, if you have a taste for full- blown beauty and widows, she will coax the coin out of your pockets, and yourselves into the English Opera House, when we have told you what she acts, and how she acts. Imagine her, the syren, with the quiet, confiding smile, the tender melting voice, the pleasing highly-bred manner; just picture her in the character of a Parisian widowthe free, unshackled, fascinating Parisian widowthe child of libertythe mother ofno, not a mother; for the instant a husband dies, the orphans are transferred to convent schools to become nephews and nieces. Well, we say for the third time, conceive Mrs. Waylett, dressed with modest elegance, a single rose in her hairsympathise with her as she rushes upon the stage (which is set for the chambre meublée of a country inn), escaping from the persecutions of a persevering traveller who will follow her charms, her modest elegance, her single rose, wherever they make their appearance. She locks the door, and orders supper, declaring she will leave the house immediately after it is eaten and paid for. Alas! the danger increases, and with it her fears; she will pay without eating; and as the diligence is going off, she will resume her journey, buta new misfortunethere is no place in it! She will, then, hire a postchaise; and the landlady goes to strike the bargain, having been duly paid for a bed which has not been lain in, and a supper that has not been eaten. As the lady hastens away, with every prospect of not returning, the piece would inevitably end here, if a gentleman did not arrive by the very diligence which has just driven off full, and taken the same chamber the lady has just vacated; but more particularly if the only chaise in the place had not been hired by the ladys wicked persecutor on purpose to detain her. She, of course, returns to the twice-let chamber, and finds it occupied by a sentimental traveller.

Here we have the peculiarly perplexing predicamenta lady and gentleman, and only one chamber between them! This is the plot; all that happens afterwards is merely supplementary. To avoid the continued persecutions of the unseen Adolphe, the lady agrees, after some becoming hesitation, to pass to the hostess as the wife of the sentimental traveller. The landlady is satisfied, for what so natural as that they should have but one bed-room between them? so she carefully locks them in, and the audience have the pleasure of seeing them pass the night togetherhow we will not saylet our readers go and see. Yet we must in justice add that the lady and gentleman make at the end of the piece the amende good morals demandthey get married.

To the performers, and to them alone, are we indebted for any of the amusement this trifle affords. Mr. Keeley and Mrs. Waylett were, so far as acting goes, perfection; for never were parts better fitted to them. There are only three characters in the piece; the third, the hostess of the Cochon bleu, is very well done by Mrs. Selby. The persecuting Adolphe (who turns out to be the gentlemans nephew) never appears upon the stage, for all his rude efforts to get into the ladys chamber are fruitless.

Such is the prying disposition of the British public, that the house was crammed to the ceiling to see a lady and a gentleman placed in a peculiarly perplexing predicament.

As Romeo, Kean, with awkward grace,

On velvet rests, tis said:

Ah! did he seek a softer place,

Hed rest upon his head.

LATEST FOREIGN. Several Dutch males arrived from Rotterdam during the last week. They are all totally devoid of intelligence or interest.

AN USEFUL ALLY. Crackd China mended!Zounds, man! off this minute

Theres work for you, or else the deuce is in it!

Draw it mild! as the boy with the decayed tooth said to the dentist.

Websters Manganese Ink is so intensely black, that it is used as a marking-fluid for coal-sacks.

There is a man up country so fat, they grease the cart-wheels with his shadow.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 1. [pg 61] AUGUST 21, 1841. THE WIFE-CATCHERS. A LEGEND OF MY UNCLES BOOTS. In Four Chapters. CHAPTER IV. A man in stocks forms the letter T he conversation now subsided into private and confidential whispers, from which I could learn that Miss OBrannigan had consented to quit her fathers halls with Terence that very night, and, before the priest, to become his true and lawful wife.

It had been previously understood that those of the guests who lived at a distance from the lodge should sleep there that night. Nothing could have been more favourable for the designs of the lovers; and it was arranged between them, that Miss Biddy was to steal from her chamber into the yard, at daybreak, and apprise her lover of her presence by flinging a handful of gravel against his window. Terences horse was warranted to carry double, and the lady had taken the precaution to secure the key of the stable where he was placed.

It was long after midnight before the company began to separate;cloaks, shawls, and tippets were called for; a jug of punch of extra strength was compounded, and a doch an dhurris11. A drink at the door;a farewell cup. of the steaming beverage administered to every individual before they were permitted to depart. At length the house was cleared of its guests, with the exception of those who were to remain and take beds there. Amongst the number were the haberdasher and your uncle. The latter was shown into a chamber in which a pleasant turf fire was burning on the hearth.

Although Terences mind was full of sweet anticipations and visions of future grandeur, he could not avoid feeling a disagreeable sensation arising from the soaked state of his boots; and calculating that it still wanted three or four hours of daybreak, he resolved to have us dry and comfortable for his mornings adventure. With this intention he drew us off, and placed us on the hearth before the fire, and threw himself on the bednot to sleephe would sooner have committed suicidebut to meditate upon the charms of Miss Biddy and her thousand pounds.

But our strongest resolutions are overthrown by circumstancesthe ducking, the dancing, and the potteen, had so exhausted Terence, that he unconsciously shut, first, one eye, then the other, and, finally, he fell fast asleep, and dreamed of running away with the heiress on his back, through a shaking bog, in which he sank up to the middle at every step. His vision was, however, suddenly dispelled by a smart rattle against his window. A moment was sufficient to recall him to his senseshe knew it was Miss Biddys signal, and, jumping from the bed, drew back the cotton window-curtains and peered earnestly out: but though the day had begun to break, it was still too dark to enable him to distinguish any person on the lawn. In a violent hurry he seized on your humble servant, and endeavoured to draw me on; but, alas! the heat of the fire had so shrank me from my natural dimensions, that he might as well have attempted to introduce his leg and foot into an eel-skin. Flinging me in a rage to the further corner of the room, he essayed to thrust his foot into my companion, which had been reduced to the same shrunken state as myself. In vain he tugged, swore, and strained; first with one, and then with another, until the stitches in our sides grinned with perfect torture; the perspiration rolled down his foreheadhis eyes were staring, his teeth set, and every nerve in his body was quivering with his exertionsbut still he could not force us on.

Whats to be done! he ejaculated in despairing accents. A bright thought struck him suddenly, that he might find a pair of boots belonging to some of the other visitors, with which he might make free on so pressing an emergency. It was but sending them back, with an apology for the mistake, on the following day. With this idea he sallied from his room, and groped his way down stairs to find the scullery, where he knew the boots were deposited by the servant at night. This scullery was detached from the main building, and to reach it it was necessary to cross an angle of the yard. Terence cautiously undid the bolts and fastenings of the back door, and was stealthily picking his steps over the rough stones of the yard, when he was startled by a fierce roar behind him, and at the same moment the teeth of Towser, the great watch-dog, were fastened in his nether garments. Though very much alarmed, he concealed his feelings, and presuming on a slight previous intimacy with his assailant, he addressed him in a most familiar manner, calling him poor fellow and old Towser, explained to him the ungentlemanly liberty he was taking with his buckskins, and requested him to let go his hold, as he had quite enough of that sport. Towser was, however, not to be talked out of his private notions; he foully suspected your uncle of being on no good design, and replied to every remonstrance he made with a growl and a shake, that left no doubt he would resort to more vigorous measures in case of opposition. Afraid or ashamed to call for help, Terence was kept in this disagreeable state, nearly frozen to death with cold and trembling with terror, until the morning was considerably advanced, when he was discovered by some of the servants, who released him from the guardianship of his surly captor. Without waiting to account for the extraordinary circumstances in which he had been found, he bolted into the house, rushed up to his bed- chamber, and, locking the door, threw himself into a chair, overwhelmed with shame and vexation.

But poor Terences troubles were not half over. The beautiful heiress, after having discharged several volleys of sand and small pebbles against his window without effect, was returning to her chamber, swelling with indignation, when she was encountered on the stairs by Tibbins, who, no doubt prompted by the demon of jealousy, had been watching her movements. He could not have chosen a more favourable moment to plead his suit; her mortified vanity, and her anger at what she deemed the culpable indifference of her lover, made her eager to be revenged on him. It required, therefore, little persuasion to obtain her consent to elope with the haberdasher. The key of the stable was in her pocket, and in less than ten minutes she was sitting beside him in his gig, taking the shortest road to the priests.

I cannot attempt to describe the rage that Terence flew into, as soon as he learned the trick he had been served; he vowed to be the death of Tibbins, and it is probable he would have carried his threat into effect, if the haberdasher had not prudently kept out of his way until his anger had grown cool.

So, said I, addressing the narrator, you lost the opportunity of figuring at Miss Biddys wedding?

Yes, replied the wife-catcher; but Terence soon retrieved his credit, for in less than three months after his disappointment with the heiress, we were legging it as his wedding with Miss Debby Doolan, a greater fortune and a prettier girl than the one he had lost: and, by- the-bye, that reminds me of a funny scene which took place when the bride came to throw the stockinghoo! hoo! hoo! hoo!

Here my friends, the boots, burst into a long and loud fit of laughter; while I, ignorant of the cause of their mirth, looked gravely on, wondering when it would subside. Instead, however, of their laughter lessening, the cachinnations became so violent that I began to feel seriously alarmed.

My dear friends! said I.

Hoo! hoo! hoo! hoo! hoo! shouted the pair.

This excessive mirth may be dangerous

A peal of laughter shook their leathern sides, and they rolled from side to side on their chair. Fearful of their falling, I put out my hand to support them, when a sense of acute pain made me suddenly withdraw it. I started, opened my eyes, and discovered that I had laid hold of the burning remains of the renowned wife-catchers, which I had in my sleep placed upon the fire.

As I gazed mournfully upon the smoking relics of the ancient allies of our house, I resolved to record this strange adventure; but you know I never had much taste for writing, Jack, so I now confide the task to you. As he concluded, my uncle raised his tumbler to his lips, and I could perceive a tear sparkling in his eyea genuine tribute of regard to the memory of the venerated Wife Catchers.

CORRESPONDENCE EXTRAORDINARY. Wrote Paget to Pollen,

With face bright as brass,

Tother day in the Town Hall

You mentiond an ass:

Now, for family reasons,

Id like much to know,

If on me you intended

That name to bestow?

My lord, says Jack Pollen,

Believe me, (tis true,)

Id be sorry to slander

A donkey or you.

Being grateful, says Paget,

Id ask you to lunch;

But just, Sir John, tell me.

Did you call me PUNCH?

In wit, PUNCH is equalled,

Says Pollen, by few;

In naming him, therefore,

I couldnt mean you,

Thanks! thanks! To bear malice,

Save Paget, Im loath;

Two answers Ive got, and Im

Charmd with them both.

EPIGRAMS. 1.THE CAUSE. Lisette has lost her wanton wiles

What secret care consumes her youth,

And circumscribes her smiles?

A spec on a front tooth!

2.PRIDE. Fitzsmall, who drinks with knights and lords,

To steal a share of notoriety,

Will tell you, in important words,

He mixes in the best society.

ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PRODUCE. We find, by the Times of Saturday, the British teasel crops in the parish of Melksham have fallen entirely to the ground, and from their appearance denote a complete failure. Another paragraph in the same paper speaks quite as discouragingly of the appearance of the American Teazle at the Haymarket.

[pg 62] NURSERY EDUCATION REPORT.No. 2. THE ROYAL RHYTHMICAL ALPHABET, To be said or sung by the Infant Princess. A gentleman attacks another man. A stands for Aristocracy, a thing I should admire; A bishop eats a suckling pig. B stands for a Bishop, who is clothed in soft attire; A group of people seated around a table that is in a cabinet. C beginneth Cabinet, where Mamma keeps her tools; A man in a clown hat hands something to another man in a clown hat. D doth stand for Downing- street, the Paradise of Fools; A guard pulls a lion in a toy wagon. E beginneth England, that granteth the supplies; An orchestra. F doth stand for Foreigners, whom I should patronize; Two politicians offer PUNCH a bag of money for his vote. G doth stand for Goldgood gold!for which man freedom barters; A fat snooty fellow walks from a fancy carriage into a door marked 'Lords.' H beginneth Honorsthat is, ribbons, stars, and garters; A parasol with money bags hanging from it. I stands for my Income (several thousand pounds per ann.); A man plays with a baby while his pockets are being picked. J stands for Johnny Bull, a soft and easy kind of man; A king-puppet is being worked by a right hand. K beginneth King, who rules the land by right divine; A woman courtier tries to feed a screaming princess while in a curtsey. Ls for Mrs. Lilly, who was once a nurse of mine. A man bastes a spit of meat. M beginneth Melbourne, who rules the roast and State; Two smoking men wearing tophats try to pull a door knocker off of a door. N stands for a Nobleman, whos always good and great. A woman dances on a stage. O is for the Opera, that I should only grace; A man throws money to a group of men in robes. P stands for the Pension List, for servants out of place. A man carrying a box marked 'RENT' faces away while a uniformed man takes something from it. Qs the Quarters Salary, for which true patriots long; A woman leads a group of girls in a flag- waving musical. Rs for Mrs. Ratsey, who taught me this pretty song; A pipe blows a big bubble. S stands for the Speech, which Mummy learns to say; A man holds another man upside down by the ankles and makes all of his pocket money fall out. T doth stand for Taxes, which the people ought to pay; A three-headed dog guards a door marked 'UNION'. Us for the Union Work-house, which horrid paupers shun; A coin with Victoria's profile. V is for Victoria, the Bess of forty-one; A skelton in military uniform lights a cannon and wields a sword. W stands for War, the noble game which Monarchs play; A man pours liquid from a watering can marked XXX into the waiting mouth of a flower. X is for the Treble XLilly drank three times a day; A woman on a dias is surrounded by applauding courtiers. And Y Zs for the Wise Heads, who admire all I say. [pg 63] THE GENTLEMANS OWN BOOK. A COMPLETE ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF ALL THE REQUISITES, DECORATIVE, EDUCATIONAL, AND RECREATIVE, FOR GENTILITY. INTRODUCTION. A popular encyclopædia of the requisites for gentilitya companion to the toilet, the salons, the Queens Bench, the streets, and the police-stations, has long been felt to be a desideratum by every one aspiring to good-breeding. The few works which treat on the subject have all become as obselete as hot cockles and crambo. The geste of King Horne, the ??S?????? of King Jamie, Peachams Complete Gentleman, The Poesye of princelye Practice, Dame Juliana Berners Book of St. Albans, and The Jewel for Gentrie, are now confined to bibliopoles and bookstalls. Even more modern productions have shared the same fate. The Whole Duty of Man has long been consigned to the trunk-maker, Chesterfields Letters are now dead letters, and the Young Man lights his cigar with his Best Companion. It is true, that in lieu of these, several works have emanated from the press, adapted to the change of manners, and consequently admirably calculated to supply their places. We need only instance The Flash Dictionary, The Book of Etiquette, A Guide to the Kens and Cribs of London, The whole Art of Tying the Cravat, and The Hand-book of Boxing; but it remains for us to remove the disadvantages which attend the acquirement of each of these noble arts and sciences in a detached form.

The possessor of an inquiring and genteel mind has now to wander for his politeness to Paternoster-row22. Book of Etiquette. Longman and Co.; to Pierce Egan, for his knowledge of men and manners; and to Owen Swift, for his knightly accomplishments, and exercises of chivalry.

We undertake to collect and condense these scattered radii into one brilliant focus, so that a gentleman, by reading his own book, may be made acquainted with the best means of ornamenting his own, or disfiguring a policemans, personhow to conduct himself at the dinner- table, or at the bar of Bow-streethow to turn a compliment to a lady, or carry on a chaff with a cabman.

These are high and noble objects! A wider field for social elevation cannot well be imagined. Our plan embraces the enlightenment and refinement of every scion of a noble house, and all the junior clerks in the government officesfrom the happy recipient of an allowance of 50£ per month from the Governor, to the dashing acceptor of a salary of thirty shillings a week from a highly-respectable house in the Cityfrom the gentleman who occupies a suite of apartments in the Clarendon, to the lodger in the three-pair back, in an excessively back street at Somers Town.

With these incentives, we will proceed at once to our great and glorious task, confident that our exertions will be appreciated, and obtain for us an introduction into the best circles.

PRELUDE. We trust that our polite readers will commence the perusal of our pages with a pleasure equal to that which we feel in sitting down to write them; for they call up welcome recollections of those days (we are literary and seedy now!) when our coats emanated from the laboratory of Stultz, our pantaloons from Buckmaster, and our boots from Hoby, whilst our glossy beavernow, alas! supplanted by a rusty gosswas fabricated by no less a thatcher than the illustrious Moore. They will remind us of our Coryphean conquests at the Operaour triumphs in Rotten rowour dinners at Longs and the Clarendonour nights at Offleys and the watch-houseour glorious runs with the Beaufort hounds, and our exhilarating runs from the sheriffs officersour months sporting on the heathery moors, and our day rule when rusticating in the Bench!

We are in the sear and yellow leafthere is nothing green about us now! We have put down our seasoned hunter, and have mounted the winged Pegasus. The brilliant Burgundy and sparkling Hock no longer mantle in our glass; but Barclays beernectar of gods and coalheaversmixed with hippocrenethe Muses cold withoutis at present our only beverage. The grouse are by us undisturbed in their bloomy mountain covert. We are now content to climb Parnassus and our garret stairs. The Albany, that sanctuary of erring bachelors, with its guardian beadle, are to us but memories, for we have become the denizens of a roomy attic (ring the top bell twice), and are only saluted by an Hebe of all-work and our printers devil!

ON DRESS IN GENERAL.Lhabit fait le moine.It has been laid down by Brummel, Bulwer, and other great authorities, that the tailor makes the man; and he would be the most daring of sceptics who would endeavour to controvert this axiom. Your first duty, therefore, is to place yourself in the hands of some distinguished schneider, and from him take out your patent of gentilityfor a man with an elegant coat to his back is like a bill at sight endorsed with a good name; whilst a seedy or ill-cut garment resembles a protested note of hand labelled No effects. It will also be necessary for you to consult The Monthly Book of Fashions, and to imitate, as closely as possible, those elegant and artistical productions of the gifted burin, which show to perfection What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! &c.You must not consult your own ease and taste (if you have any), for nothing is so vulgar as to suit your convenience in these matters, as you should remember that you dress to please others, and not yourself. We have heard of some eccentric individuals connected with noble families, who have departed from this rule; but they invariably paid the penalty of their rashness, being frequently mistaken for men of intellect; and it should not be forgotten, that any exercise of the mind is a species of labour utterly incompatible with the perfect man of fashion.

The confiding characters of tailors being generally acknowledged, it is almost needless to state, that the faintest indication of seediness will be fatal to your reputation; and as a presentation at the Insolvent Court is equally fashionable with that of St. James, any squeamishness respecting your inability to pay could only be looked upon as a want of moral courage upon your part, and

A nicely dressed man passes by a scarecrow. UTTERLY UNWORTHY OF A GENTLEMAN.

[The subject of dress in particular will form the subject of our next chapter.]

IF I HAD A THOUSAND A-YEAR. A BACHELORS LYRIC. If I had a thousand a- year,

(How my heart at the bright vision glows!)

I should never be crusty or queer,

But all would be couleur de rose.

Id pay all my debts, though outré,

And of duns and embarrassments clear,

Life would pass like a bright summer day,

If I had a thousand a-year.

Id have such a spicy turn-out,

And a horse of such mettle and breed

Whose points not a jockey should doubt,

When I put him at top of his speed.

On the foot-board, behind me to swing,

A tiger so small should appear,

All the nobs should protest twas the thing!

If I had a thousand a-year.

A villa Id have near the Park,

From Town just an appetite-ride;

With fairy-like grounds, and a bark

Oer its miniature waters to glide.

There oft, neath the pale twilight star,

Or the moonlight unruffled and clear,

My meerschaum Id smoke, or cigar,

If I had a thousand a-year.

Id have pictures and statues, with taste

Such as ladies unblushing might view

In my drawing and dining-rooms placed,

With many a gem of virtù.

My study should be an affair

The heart of a book-worm to cheer

All compact, with its easy spring chair,

If I had a thousand a-year.

A cellar Id have quite complete

With wines, so recherché, well stored;

And jovial guests often should meet

Round my social and well-garnishd board.

But I would have a favourite few,

To my heart and my friendship more dear;

And Id marryI mustnt tell who

If I had a thousand a-year.

With comforts so many, what more

Could I ask of kind Fortune to grant?

Humph! a few olive branchessay four

As pets for my old maiden aunt.

Then, with health, thered be nought to append.

To perfect my happiness here;

For the utile et duloc would blend.

If I had a thousand a-year.

[pg 64] MY UNCLE BUCKET. The Buckets are a large family! I am one of themmy uncle Job Bucket is another. We, the Buckets, are atoms of creation; yet we, the Buckets, are living types of the immensity of the worlds inhabitants. We illustrate their ups and downstheir fulness and their emptinesstheir risings and their fallingand all the several goods and ills, the worlds denizens in general, and Buckets in particular, are undoubted heirs to.

It hath ever been the fate of the fulness of one Bucket to guarantee the emptiness of another; and (mark the moral!) the rising Bucket is the richly-stored one; its sinking brothers attributes, like Gratianos wit, being an infinite deal of nothing. Hence the adoption of our name for the wooden utensils that have so aptly fished up this fact from the deep well of truth.

There be certain rods that attract the lightning. We are inclined to think there be certain Buckets that invite kicking, and our uncle Job was one of them. He was birched at school for everybody but himself, for he never deserved it! He was plucked at collegebecause some practical joker placed a utensil, bearing his name, outside the door of the examining master, and our uncle Job Bucket being unfortunately present, laughed at the consequent abrasion of his, the examining masters, shins. He was called to the bar. His first case was, Jane Smith versus James Smith (no relations). His client was the female. She had been violently assaulted. He mistook the initialpleaded warmly for the opposing Smith, and glowingly described the disgraceful conduct of the veriest virago a legal adviser ever had the pain of speaking of. The verdict was, as he thought, on his side. The lady favoured him with a living evidence of all the attributes he was pleased to invent for her benefit, and left him with a proof impression of her nails upon his face, carrying with her, by way of souvenir, an ample portion of the skin thereof. Had the condensed heels of all the horses whose subscription hairs were wrought into his wig, with one united effort presented him with a kick in his abdominals, he could not have been more completely knocked out of time than he was by the mistake of those cursed initials. What about Smith? sent him out of court! At length he

Cursed the bar, and declined.

He next turned his attention to building. Things went on swimmingly during the erectionso did the houses when built. The proprietorship of the ground was disputedour uncle Job had paid the wrong person. The buildings were knocked down (by Mr. Robins), and the individual who had benefited by the suppositionary ownership of the acres let on the building lease bought the lot, and sent uncle Job a peculiarly well- worded legal notice, intimating, his respectable presence would, for the future, approximate to a nuisance and trespass, and he (Job) would be proceeded against as the statutes directed, if guilty of the same.

It is impossible to follow him through all his various strivings to do well: he commenced a small-beer brewery, and the thunder turned it all into vinegar; he tried vinegar, and nothing on earth could make it sour; he opened a milk-walk, and the parish pump failed; he invented a waterproof compositionthere was fourteen weeks of drought; he sold his patent for two-and-sixpence, and had the satisfaction of walking home for the next three months wet through, from his gossamer to his ci- devant Wellingtons, now literally, from their hydraulic powers, pumps.

He lost everything but his heart! And uncle Bucket was all heart! a red cabbage couldnt exceed it in size, and, like that, it seemed naturally predestined to be everlastingly in a pickle! Still it was a heart! You were welcomed to his venison when he had ithis present saveloy was equally at your service. He must have been remarkably attached to facetious elderly poultry of the masculine gender, as his invariable salute to the tenants of his hearts core was, How are you, my jolly old cock? Coats became threadbare, and defunct trousers vanished; waistcoats were never replaced; gossamers floated down the tide of Time; boots, deprived of all hope of future renovation by the loss of their soles, mouldered in obscurity; but the clear voice and chuckling salute were changeless as the statutes of the Medes and Persians, the price and size of penny tarts, or the accumulating six-and-eightpences gracing a lawyers bill.

Poor uncle Job Buckets fortune had driven him down the rough tide of power, when first and last we met; all was blighted save the royal heart; and yet, with shame we own the truth, we blushed to meet him. Why? ay, why? We own the weakness!the heart, the goodly heart, was almost cased in rags!

Puppy!

Right, reader, right; we were a puppy. Lash on, we richly deserve it! but, consider the fearful influence of worn-out cloth! Can a long series of unchanging kindness balance patched elbows? are not cracked boots receipts in full for hours of anxious love and care? does not the kindness of a life fade like the baseless fabric of a vision before the withering touch of povertys stern stamp? Have you ever felt

Eh? what? Nostuff! Yes, yesgo on, go on.

We will!we blushed for our uncles coat! His heart, God bless it, never caused a blush on the cheek of man, woman, child, or even angel, to rise for that. We will confess. Lets see, we are sixty now (we dont look so much, but we are sixty). Well, be it so. We were handsome onceis this vanity at sixty? if so, our grey hairs are a hatchment for the past. We were swells once!hurrah!we were! Stop, this is indecentlet us be calmour action was like the proceeding of the denuder of well-sustained and thriving pigs, he who deprives them of their extreme obesive selvagevulgo, we cut it fat. Bond-street was cherished by our smile, and Ranelagh was rendered happy by the exhibition of our symmetry. Behold us hessianed in our haunts, touching the tips of well-gloved fingers to our passing friends; then fancy the opening and shutting of our back, just as Lord Adolphus Nutmeg claimed the affinity of kid to kid, to find our other hand close prisoner made by our uncle Bucket.

How are you, old cock?

Whos that, eh?

A lunatic, my lord (what lies men tell!), and dangerous!

Good day! [Exit my lord]. This way. We followed our unclethe end of a blind alley gave us a resting-place.

Bravo! exclaimed our uncle Bucket, this is rare! I live heredine with me!

A mob surrounded uswe acquiesced, in hopes to reach a place of shelter.

All right! exclaimed he of the maternal side, stand three-halfpence for your feed.

We shelled the necessary outhe dived into a bakers shopthe mob increasedhe hailed us from the door.

Thank God, this is your house, then.

Only my kitchen. Lend a hand!

A dish of steaming baked potatoes, surmounted by a fractional rib of consumptive beef, was deposited between the lemon-coloured receptacles of our thumbs and fingersan outcry was raised at the courts endwe were almost mad.

Turn to the rightthree-pair backcut away while its warm, and make yourself at home! Ill come with the beer!

We wished our I had been in that bier! We rushed outthe gravy basted our pants, and greased our hessians! Lord Adolphus Nutmeg appeared at the entrance of the court. As we proceeded to our announced destination,Great God! exclaimed his lordship, the Bedlamite has bitten him! A peal of laughter rang in our earswe rushed into the wrong room, and our uncle Job Bucket picked us, the shattered dish, the reeking potatoes, and dislodged beef, from the inmost recesses of a wicker-cradle, where, spite the thumps and entreaties of a distracted parent, we were all engaged in overlaying a couple of remarkably promising twins! We can say no more on this frightful subject. But

Once again we met!

Our pride wanted cutting, and fate appeared determined to perform the operation with a jagged saw!

Tom Racket died! His disease was infectious, and we had been the last person to call upon him, consequently we were mournful. Thick-coming fancies brooded in our brainall things conspired against us; the day was damp and wretchedthe church-bells emulated each other in announcing the mortalities of earths bipedseach tolld its tale of death. We thought upon our absent friend. A funeral approached. We were still more gloomy. Could it be his? if so, what were his thoughts? Could ghosts but speak, what would he say? The coffin was coeval with ussheets were rubicund compared to our cheeks. A low deep voice sounded from its very bowelsthe words were addressed to usthey were, Take no notice; its the first time; it will soon be over!

Will it? we groaned.

Yes. Im glad you know me. Ill tell you more when I come back.

Gracious powers! do you expect to return?

Certainly! Well have a screw together yet! Theres room for us both in my place. Ill make you comfortable.

The cold perspiration streamed from us. Was there ever anything so awful! Here was an unhappy subject threatening to call and see us at night, and then screw us down and make us comfortable.

Will you come? exclaimed the dead again.

Never! we vociferated with fearful energy.

Then let it alone; I didnt think youd have cut me now; but wait till I show you my face.

Horror of horrors!the pall moveda long white face peered from it. We gasped for breath, and only felt new life when we recognised our uncle Job Bucket, as the author of the conversation, and one of the bearers of the coffin! He had turned mute!but that was a failureno one ever died in his parish after his adopting that profession!

He has been seen once since in the backwoods of America. His fate seemed still to follow him, and his good temper appeared immortalhis situation was more peculiar than pleasant. He was seated on a log, three hundred miles from any civilised habitation, smiling blandly at a broken axe (his only one), the half of which was tightly grasped in his right hand, pointing to the truant iron in the trunk of a huge tree, the first of a thriving forest of fifty acres he purposed felling; and, thus occupied, a solitary traveller passed our uncle Job Bucket, serene as the melting sunshine, and thoughtless as the wild insect that sported round the owner of the lightest of light hearts.PEACE BE WITH HIM.

FUSBOS.

IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. A gentleman of the name of Stuckey has discovered a new filtering process, by which a stream from a most impure source may be rendered perfectly translucent and fit for all purposes. In the name of our rights and liberties! in the name of Judy and our country! we call upon the proper authorities to have this invaluable apparatus erected in the lobby of the House of Commons, and so, by compelling every member to submit to the operation of filtration, cleanse the house from its present accumulation of corruption, though we defy Stuckey himself to give it brightness.

A THING UNFIT TO A(P)PEAR. New honours heaped on roué Segraves name!

A cuckolds horn is then the trump of fame.

[pg 65] FINE ARTS. EXTERNAL EXHIBITIONS. Under this head it is our intention, from time to time, to revert to numberless free exhibitions, which, in this advancement-of-education age, have been magnanimously founded with a desire to inculcate a knowledge of, and disseminate, by these liberal means, an increased taste for the arts in this vast metropolis. We commence not with any feelings of favouritism, nor in any order of ability, our pleasures being too numerously divided to be able to settle as to which ought to be No. 1, but because it is necessary to commenceconsequently we would wish to settle down in company with the amiable reader in front of a tobacconists shop in the Regent Circus, Piccadilly; and as the principal attractions glare upon the astonishment of the spectators from the south window, it is there in imagination that we are irresistibly fixed. Before we dilate upon the delicious peculiarities of the exhibition, we deem it absolutely a matter of justice to the noble-hearted patriot who, imitative of the Greeks and Athenians of old, who gave the porticoes of their public buildings, and other convenient spots, for the display of their artists productions, has most generously appropriated the chief space of his shop front to the use and advantage of the painter, and has thus set a bright example to the high-minded havannah merchants and contractors for cubas and cnaster, which we trust will not be suffered to pass unobserved by them.