Chapter XXXI: Book I: —DEFINITIONS. A point in politics is that which always has place (8)

[pg 201] THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT. 6.OF THE GRINDER AND HIS CLASS. Two people kiss through a frame in the shape of the letter O. ne fine morning, in the October of the third winter session, the student is suddenly struck by the recollection that at the end of the course the time will arrive for him to be thinking about undergoing the ordeals of the Hall and College. Making up his mind, therefore, to begin studying in earnest, he becomes a pro tempore member of a temperance society, pledging himself to abstain from immoderate beer for six months: he also purchases a coffee-pot, a reading-candlestick, and Steggalls Manual; and then, contriving to accumulate five guineas to pay a grinder, he routs out his old note-books from the bottom of his box, and commences to read for the Hall.

Aspirants to honours in law, physic, or divinity, each know the value of private cramminga process by which their brains are fattened, by abstinence from liquids and an increase of dry food (some of it very dry), like the livers of Strasbourg geese. There are grinders in each of these three professional classes; but the medical teacher is the man of the most varied and eccentric knowledge. Not only is he intimately acquainted with the different branches required to be studied, but he is also master of all their minutiæ. In accordance with the taste of the examiners, he learns and imparts to his class at what degree of heat water boils in a balloonhow the article of commerce, Prussian blue, is more easily and correctly defined as the Ferrosesquicyanuret of the cyanide of potassiumwhy the nitrous oxyde, or laughing gas, induces people to make such asses of themselves; and, especially, all sorts of individual inquiries, which, if continued at the present rate, will range from Who discovered the use of the spleen? to Who killed cock robin? for aught we know. They ask questions at the Hall quite as vague as these.

It is twelve oclock at noon. In a large room, ornamented by shelves of bottles and preparations, with varnished prints of medical plants and cases of articulated bones and ligaments, a number of young men are seated round a long table covered with baize, in the centre of whom an intellectual-looking man, whose well-developed forehead shows the amount of knowledge it can contain, is interrogating by turns each of the students, and endeavouring to impress the points in question on their memories by various diverting associations. Each of his pupils, as he passes his examination, furnishes him with a copy of the subjects touched upon; and by studying these minutely, the private teacher forms a pretty correct idea of the general run of the Hall questions.

Now, Mr. Muff, says the gentleman to one of his class, handing him a bottle of something which appears like specimens of a chestnut colts coat after he had been clipped; whats that, sir?

Thats cow-itch, sir, replies Mr. Muff.

Cow what? You must call it at the Hall by its botanical namedolichos pruriens. What is it used for?

To strew in peoples beds that you owe a grudge to, replies Muff; whereat all the class laugh, except the last comer, who takes it all for granted, and makes a note of the circumstance in his interleaved manual.

That answer would floor you, continues the grinder. The dolichos is used to destroy worms. How does it act, Mr. Jones? going on to the next pupila man in a light cotton cravat and no shirt collar, who looks very like a butler out of place.

It tickles them to death, sir, answers Mr. Jones.

You would say it acts mechanically, observes the grinder. The fine points stick into the worms and kill them. They say, Is this a dagger which I see before me? and then die. Recollect the dagger, Mr. Jones, when you go up. Mr. Manhug, what do you consider the best sudorific, if you wanted to throw a person into a perspiration?

Mr. Manhug, who is the wag of the class, finishes, in rather an abrupt manner, a song he was humming, sotto voce, having some allusion to a peer who was known as Thomas, Lord Noddy, having passed a night at a house of public entertainment in the Old Bailey previous to an execution. He then takes a pinch of snuff, winks at the other pupils as much as to say, See me tackle him, now; and replies, The gallery door of Covent Garden on Boxing-night.

Now, come, be serious for once, Mr. Manhug, continues the teacher; what else is likely to answer the purpose?

I think a run up Holborn-hill, with two Ely-place knockers on your arm, and three policemen on your heels, might have a good effect, answers Mr. Manhug.

Do you ever think you will pass the Hall, if you go on at this rate? observes the teacher, in a tone of mild reproach.

Not a doubt of it, sir, returns the imperturbable Manhug. Ive passed it twenty times within this last month, and did not find any very great difficulty about it; neither do I expect to, unless they block up Union- street and Water-lane.

The grinder gives Mr. Manhug up as a hopeless case, and goes on to the next. Mr. Rapp, they will be very likely to ask you the composition of the compound gamboge pill: what is it made of?

Mr. Rapp hasnt the least idea.

Remember, then, it is composed of cambogia, aloes, ginger, and soapC, A, G, S,cags. Recollect Cags, Mr. Rapp. What would you do if you were sent for to a person poisoned by oxalic acid?

Give him some chalk, returns Mr. Rapp.

But suppose you had not got any chalk, what would you substitute?

Oh, anything; pipeclay and soapsuds.

Yes, thats all very right; but we will presume you could not get any pipeclay and soapsuds; in fact, that there was nothing in the house. What would you do then?

Mr. Manhug cries out from the bottom of the tableLet him die and be !

Now, Mr. Manhug, I really must entreat of you to be more steady, interrupts the professor. You would scrape the ceiling with the fire- shovel, would you not? Plaster contains lime, and lime is an antidote. Recollect that, if you please. They like you to say you would scrape the ceiling, at the Hall: they think it shows a ready invention in emergency. Mr. Newcome, you have heard the last question and answer?

Yes sir, says the fresh arrival, as he finishes making a note of it.

Well; you are sent for, to a man who has hung himself. What would be your first endeavour?

To scrape the ceiling with the fire-shovel, mildly observes Mr. Newcome; whereupon the class indulges in a hearty laugh, and Mr. Newcome blushes as deep as the red bulls-eye of a New-road doctors lamp.

What would you do, Mr. Manhug? perhaps you can inform Mr. Newcome.

Cut him down, sir, answers the indomitable farceur.

Well, well, continues the teacher; but we will presume he has been cut down. What would you strive to do next?

Cut him up, sir, if the coroner would give an order for a post mortem examination.

We have had no chemistry this morning, observes one of the pupils.

Very well, Mr. Rogers; we will go on with it if you wish. How would you endeavour to detect the presence of gold in any body?

By begging the loan of a sovereign, sir, interrupts Mr. Manhug.

If he knew you as well as I do, Manhug, observes Mr. Jones, hed be sure to lend itoh, yes!I should rayther think so, certainly, whereupon Mr. Jones compresses his nostril with the thumb of his right hand, and moves his fingers as if he was performing a concerto on an imaginary one handed flageolet.

Mr. Rapp, what is the difference between an element and a compound body?

Mr. Rapp is again obliged to confess his ignorance.

A compound body is composed of two or more elements, says the grinder, in various proportions. Give me an example, Mr. Jones.

Half-and-half is a compound body, composed of the two elements, ale and porter, the proportion of the porter increasing in an inverse ratio to the respectability of the public-house you get it from, replies Mr. Jones.

The professor smiles, and taking up a Pharmacopia, says, I see here directions for evaporating certain liquids in a water-bath. Mr. Newcome, what is the most familiar instance of a water-bath you are acquainted with?

In High Holborn, sir; between Little Queen-street and Drury-lane, returns Mr. Newcome.

A water-bath means a vessel placed in boiling-water. Mr. Newcome, to keep it at a certain temperature. If you are asked at the Hall for the most familiar instance, they like you to say a carpenters glue-pot.

And in like manner the grinding-class proceeds.

[pg 202] THE LORD MAYORS AND THE QUEEN. By the Correspondent of the Observer.

The interesting condition of Her Majesty is a source of the most agonising suspense to the Lord Mayors of London and Dublin, who, if a Prince of Wales is not born before their period of office expires, will lose the chance of being created baronets.

According to rumour, the babywe beg pardon, the scion of the house of Brunswickwas to have been bornwe must apologise again; we should say was to have been added to the illustrious stock of the reigning family of Great Britainsome day last month, and of course the present Lord Mayors had comfortably made up their minds that they should be entitled to the dignity it is customary to confer on such occasions as that which the nation now ardently anticipates. But here we are at the beginning of November, and no Prince of Wales. We have reason to know that the Lord Mayor of London has not slept a wink since Saturday, and his lady has not smiled, according to an authority on which we are accustomed to rely, since Thursday fortnight. Some say it is done on purpose, because the present official is a Tory; and others insinuate that the Prince of Wales is postponed in order that there may be an opportunity of making Daniel OConnell a baronet. Others suggest that there will be twins presented to the nation! one on the night of the 8th of November, the other on the morning of the 9th, so as to conciliate both parties; but we are not disposed at present to pronounce a decided opinion on this part of the question. We know that politics have been carried most indelicately into the very heart of the Royal Household; but we hope, for the honour of all parties, that the confinement of the Queen is not to be made a matter of political arrangement. If it is, we can only say that it will be most indecent, we might almost venture to say unbecoming; but our dislike to the use of strong language is well known, or at least it ought to be.

If there are any other particulars, we shall give them in a second edition; that is to say, if we should have anything to add, and should think it worth while to publish another impression for the purpose of stating it.

SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.No. 10. You talk of loveI would believe

Thy words were truth;

Nor deem that thou wouldst eer deceive

My artless youth:

But when we part,

Within my heart

A small voice whispers low

Beware! Beware!

Fond girl, the snare!

its all no go!

You talk of loveyet would betray

The heart you seek,

And smile upon its slow decay,

If twould not break.

In vain you swear

That I am fair,

That heaven is on my lip!

I know each vow

Is worthless now;

A couple embraces; the man points angrily at his lips. YOUVE MISSD YOUR TIP.

THE TWO NEW EQUITY JUDGES. Between the two new Equity Courts, the suitors in Chancery will be much better off than formerlysaid Fitzroy Kelly, lately, to an intimate. Undoubtedly, replied the friend, they may now choose between the frying-pan and the fire.

MR. PUNCH, ARTIST IN PHILOSOPHY AND FIREWORKS11. Baylis., BEGS TO INFORM THE HOBBEDEHOYITY AND INFANTRY OF THE METROPOLIS AND THE WORLD IN GENERAL, That, for the proper commemoration of the anniversary of the 5th of November, he had engaged the services of the following

EMINENT THAMESIAN INCENDIARIES. SIR PETER LAURIE, to furnish materials for squibs.

MR. ROEBUCK, for flower-pots, containing the beautiful figure of a genealogical tree.

COLONEL SIBTHORP, for sky-rockets being constructed after his own plan; warranted to flare up at starting, and to come downa stick.

DANIEL OCONNELL, Esq., for the importation of Roman candles,

MR. WAKLEY, SIR JAMES GRAHAM, LORD STANLEY, and SIR FRANCIS BURDETT, for Catherine-wheels, which are guaranteed to turn round with great celerity, and to exhibit curious designs.

LORD MINTO, for Chinese fire, prepared from the recipes of his gallant relative, the Honourable Captain Elliot, which have been procured at an immense outlay.(See next years Budget.)

The MARQUIS OF WATERFORD, the celebrated Purveyor to the Police Force in general, for the supply of crackers.

MR. CHARLES PEARSON, for port-fires.

SIR ROBERT PEEL, assisted by his CABINET, for a golden rain.

*** A large supply of these articles always on hand. Apply at Mr. P.s Office every Saturday.

AN EXTRACT FROM THE SPECTATOR. Carter, the lion-tamer, previous to his late exhibition, when the tiger broke loose, had given an order to an old acquaintance to come and witness his performance; by great good luck, he and the rest of the affrighted spectators effected their escape; but he was heard vehemently declaring he had been deceived in the most beastly manner, as he would not have come but that he supposed he was

A man looks through a window at another man holding a woman on his lap. LOOKING IN UPON A FRIEND.

SHIP NEWS. Off Battersea Mills, in the reeds, La Gitana (wherry Z.9), Execution Dock, with loss of sculls; deserted. On nearing her, discovered the Master with his wooden leg in the mud, to which he had made fast the head-line, with his left leg over his right shoulder, high and dry.

A boat, supposed to belong to the Union Aquatic Sons of Shop Walkers, was washed ashore on Hungerford Muds, with an old ribbon-box, apparently used for a sea-chest, containing wearing apparel, 1s. 8d. in fourpenny pieces, and sundry small pieces of paper, with Dry, sign of the Three Balls, printed thereon, and endorsed, Shawl, 3s. 6d., 30 remnants of ribbon 7s. 6d., waistcoat satin, 1 yard 3s. 6d., &c. &c. The crew supposed to have abandoned her off the Swan, where they were seen in a state of beer.

CAUSE AND EFFECT. A great fall of chalk occurred at Mertsham on the Brighton Railway on last Thursday morning; a corresponding fall in milk took place in London on the following day.

[pg 203] SHOULD THIS MEET THE EYE A man pushes a barrel marked 'Garden Engine' which is pouring liquid into a nearby woman's mouth. of Sir ROBERT PEEL, LORD STANLEY, or any of Her Majestys Ministers, in want of an active cad, or light porter; the advertiser, a young man at present out of place, would be anxious to make himself generally useful, and is not particular in what capacity. Respectability not so great an object as a good salary. Application to be made to T. WAKLEY, at the Rads Arms, Turnem Green.

HARD AND FAST. That very slow coach, and would be faster, the licensed to-carry-no-thing-inside Bernard Cavannah, has been recently confined in a room, wherein he has lived upon the cameleons dish, eating the airjugged, we presume. Wakley declares he is an impostor; but as he has an interest in an inquest, and Bernard survives, this may be attributed to professional disappointment. Dr. Elliotson declares, from his own experience, any man can live upon nothing. The whole medical profession are getting to very high words; Anglice,indulging in very low language. The fraternity of physicians, apothecaries, and surgeons, are growing so warm upon the living subject, that we may shortly expect to witness a beautiful tableau vivant of

A man hits another man with a pail on his head. SURGERE IN ARMIS.

PUNCHS THEATRE. MISS ADELAIDE KEMBLE. Let every amateur, professor, and enthusiastic raver concerning native talent go down on his knees, and, after the manner of the ancient heathen, return thanksgiving unto Apollo for having at last sent us a singer who knows her business! One who can sing as if she had a soul; who can act as if she were not acting, but existing amidst reality; who is, in short, a performer entirely new to the British stage; to whom we have not a parallel example to produce,a heroine of the lyric drama.

Such, in the most exalted sense of the term, is Miss Adelaide Kemble. Unlike nearly every other English singer, she has not set up with the small stock-in-trade of a good voice, and learned singing on the stage; making the public pay for her tuition. On the contrary, nature has manifestly not been bountiful to her in this respect. Her voicethe mere organmay have been in her earlier years exceeded in quality by many other vocalists. But what is it now? Perfect in intonation; its lower tones forcible; the middle voice firm and full; the upper interval sweet and rich beyond comparison.

But how comes this? How has this moderately-good organ been brought to such perfection? By a process not very prevalent amongst English singerspractice the most constant, study the most unwearied. Punch will bet a wager with any sporting dilettante that Miss Kemble has sung more while learning her art, than many old stagers while professing and practising it.

She seems, then,as far as one may judge of that kind of perfectiona perfect mistress of her voice; she can do what she likes with it, she can sustain a note in any part of the soprano compassswell, diminish, and keep it exactly to the same pitch for an incredible space of time. She can burst forth a torrent of sound expressive of our strongest passions, without losing an atom of tone, and she can diminish it to a whisper, in sotto voce, as distinct as it is thrilling and true intonation.

Having obtained this vocal mastery, she has unfettered energies to devote to her acting; which, in Norma, has all the elements of tragic dignityall the tenderness of natural feeling. In one word, Miss Kemble is a mistress of every branch of her art; and we can now say, what we have so seldom had an opportunity to boast of, that our English stage possesses a singer who is also an actress and musician!

The opera is excellently put upon the stage. Miss Kemble, or somebody else, electrified the choruses; for, wonderful to relate, they condescended to actto performto pretend to be what they are meant for! Never was so efficient, so well-disciplined, so unanimous a chorus heard or seen before on the English stage. The chorus-master deserves everybodys, and has our own, especial commendations.

NINA SFORZA. A new melo-drama in five acts, by a gentleman who rejoices in exactly the same number of titlesnamely, R. Zouch S. Troughton, Esquiremade its appearance for Miss H. Fancits benefit on Monday last, at the Haymarket.

The old-fashioned recipe for cooking up a melo-dramatic hero has been strictly followed in Nina Sforza. Raphael Doria, the heir-apparent to the dukedom of Genoa, is a man about town in Veniceis accompanied, on most occasions, by a faithful friend and a false onesaves the heroine from drowning, and, of course, falls in love with her on the spot, or rather on the water. She, of course, returns the passion; but is, as usual, loved by the villaina regular thorough-paced Mephistopheles of the Surrey or Sadlers Wells genus. These ingredients, having been carefully compounded in the first act, arequite selon les règlesallowed to simmer till the end of the fourth, and to boil over in the fifth. Thus we have a tragedy after the manner of those lively productions that flourished in the time of Garrick; when Young, Murphy, and Francklin were Melpomenes head-cooks.

Modern innovation has, however, added a sprinkle of spice to the hashes of the above-named school. This is most commonly thrown in, by giving to the stock-villain a dash of humour or sarcasm, so as to bring out his savagery in bolder relief. He is also invested with an unaccountable influence over the hero, who can on no account be made to see his bare and open treachery till about the middle of the fifth act, when the dupes eyes must be opened in time for the catastrophe.

These improvements have been carefully introduced into the present old new tragedy. Ugone Spinola is the presiding genius of Dorias woes: and dogs him about for the pleasure of making him miserable. He is a finished epicure in revenge; picking little tit-bits of it with the most savage gôut all through; but particularly towards the end of the play. This taste was, it seems, first acquired in consequence of a feud that formerly existed between Dorias family and his own, in which his side came off so decidedly second-best, that he only remains of his race; all the rest having been murdered by Doria and his fathers faction. From such deadly foes, it may be observed, that tragic heroes always select their most trusted friends.

Dorias father dies, and Ninas consents to his marriage; so that we see them, at the opening of the third act, the picture of connubial bliss, in a garden belonging to the Dukes palace at Genoa, exchanging sentiments which would be doubtless extremely tender if they were quite intelligible. A great deal is said about genius being like love; which gives rise to a simile touching a rose-bud in a poor poets window, and other incoherencies quite natural for persons to utter who are supposed to be in love. This peaceful scene is interrupted by an alarm of war; and the Prince goes to fight the Florentines.

The battle takes place between the acts; and we next see the Genoese halting near their city after a victory. Doria, who in the first act has been represented to us as an exceedingly gay young fellow, is here described as indulging, in his tent, his old propensities; having brought away, with other trophies, a fair Florentine, who is diverting him with her guitar at that moment. This is excellent news for Spinola; the more so as we are soon made to understand that Nina, being impatient of her husbands return, has fled to his tent to meet him, and discovers the fair Florentine in the very act of guitar-playing, and her spouse in the midst of his raptures thereat.

A scene follows, in which Spinola, as a new edition of Iago, and Nina, in the form of a female Othello, get scope for a great variety of that kind of acting which performers call effective. The wifein this scene really well-drawnwill not believe Dorias falsehood, in spite of strong [pg 204]circumstantial evidence. Spinola offers to strengthen it; and the last scene of this actthe fourthpresents a highly melo-dramatic situation. It is a street scene; and Spinola has brought Nina to watch her husband into her rivals house. She sees him approach ithe waversshe hopes he will pass the door. Alas, he does not, and actually goes in! Of course she swoons and falls. So does the act drop.

The entire business of the last act is to bring about the catastrophe; and, as not one step towards it has been previously taken, there is no time to lose. Spinola, therefore, is made not to mince the matter, but to come boldly on at once, with a bottle of poison! This he blandly insinuates to Nina might be used with great effect upon her husband, so as effectually to put a stop to future intrigues with any forthcoming fair Florentines. She, however, declines putting the poison to any such use; but, nevertheless, honours Spinolas draught, by accepting it. The villain expresses himself extremely grateful for her condescension, and exits, to make way for Doria.

Directly he appears, you at once perceive that he has done something exceedingly naughty, for his countenance is covered with remorse and a certain white powder which is the stage specific for pallor. The lady complains of being unwell, and her husband kindly advises her to go to bed. She replies, that she has a cordial within which will soon restore her, and entreats her beloved lord to administer the potion with his own dear hand; he consentsand they both retire, and the audience shudders, because they pretty well guess that she is going to toss off the dose, of which Spinola has been the dispensing chemist.

And here we may be forgiven for a short digression on the subject of the dramatic Materia Medica, and poison-ology. The sleeping draughts of the stage are, for example, generally speaking, uncommon specimens of chemical perfection. When takeneven if the patient be ever so well shakennothing on earth, or on the stage, can wake him after the cue for his going to sleep, and before the cue for his getting up, have been given; while it never allows him to dose an instant longer than the plot of the piece requires. Then as to poisons; there are some which kill the taker dead on the spot, like a fly in a bottle of prussic acid; others, whichswallowed with a sort of time-bargainare warranted to do the business within a few seconds of so many hours hence; others again there are (particularly adapted for villains) that cause the most incessant torment, which nothing can relieve but death; a fourth compound (always administered to such characters as Nina Sforza) are peculiarly mild in their operationno stomach-acheno contortionsbut still effectual.

The contents of the phial given to Nina by Spinola are compounded of the second and fourth of these formulæ. The drink, though deadly, is guaranteed to be a mild, rather-pleasant-than-otherwise poison, warranted to operate at a given hour; one calculated to allow the heroine plenty of time to die, and to make her go off in great physical comfort.

Nina has taken the poison; but, having a peculiar desire to die at home, orders a trusty page to provide horses for herself and attendant secretly, at the northern gate, that she may return to her native Venice. With this determination we lose sight of her.

Doria is aroused by a hunting-party who have risen so early that they seem to have forgotten to take off their nightcaps, to which the Italian hood, as worn by the Haymarket hunters, bears an obstinate resemblance. The Prince discovers his wife has fled, and orders his chasseurs to divert their attention from the game they had purposed to ride to cover for, and to hunt up the missing Nina.

In the deep recesses of a wood Spinola and Doria meet, the latter having, by some instinct, found out his pseudo-friends treachery; of course they fight: Doria falls; but Spinola is too great a glutton in revenge to kill him till he knows of his wifes death, so, after gloating over his prostrate enemy, and poking him about with his rapier for several minutes, all he does is to steal his sword; this being found upon him by some of the hunters, who meet him quite by accident, they suppose he has killed Doria, and so kill him. Thus, Spinola being disposed of, there are only two more that are left to die.

In her flight Nina has been taken unwellwith the poisonjust in that part of the forest where her spouse is left, by his enemy, in a swoon. They meet, and she dies in his arms. Two being now defunct, only one remains; but there is some difficulty in getting rid of Doria, for he is (as is always the case when a stage felo-de-se impends) unprovided with a weapon. Going up to his trusty friend DEstala, he engages him in talk, and, with the dexterity of a footpad, steals his dagger, and stabs himself. All the principal characters being now dead, the piece cannot go on, and the curtain drops.

A word or two on the merits of Nina Sforza. There are two classes of dramatists who are just now contending for famethose who cannot get their plays acted because they are not dramatic, and those who can, because their pieces are merely dramatic. Mr.we beg pardon, R. Zouch S. Troughton, Esquire,belongs to the latter class. He is evidently well acquainted with the mechanics of the stage; he knows all about situationthat is, sacrificing nature to startling effect. His language is essentially dramatic, and only fails where it aims at being poetical. His characters, too, are not drawn from life, from nature, but are copiedand cleverly copiedfrom other characters that strut about in the stock tragedies of Rowe et hoc genus. The fable, or plot, is deficient, from the absence of one sustaining, pervading incident to excite, and keep up a progressive interest. With every new act a new circumstance arises, which, though it is in some instances (especially in the fourth act) conducted with great skill, yet the interest it produces is not sustained, being made to give place to the authors succeeding effort to get up a new situation by a new incident. Though the tragedy possesses little originality, it will, from its melo- dramatic and exciting character, be most likely a very successful one. Besides, it is very well acted, by Miss Faucit, Wallack, and Macready, as Spinola; which, being a most unnatural character, is well calculated for so conventional an actor as Macready.

The author will doubtless become a successful dramatist, because he has taken the trouble to learn what is proper for, and effective on, the stage. Having gained that acquirement, if he will now study nature, and put men and women upon the stage that act and speak like real mortals, we may safely predict an honourable dramatic career for Mr. ; but our space is limited, and we cant afford enough of it to print his names a third time.

THE QUADROON SLAVE. A new discussion of the Slave question seems to have been much wanted on the stage. It is, alas, the black truth that The Slave par excellence, in spite of the brothers Sharpset and Bishops music, ceases to interest. The woes of Gambia have been turned into ridicule by the capers of Jim Crow, and the twin pleasantries of Jim along Josey. Since the moral British public gave away twenty millions to emancipate the black population, and to raise the price of brown sugars, they are not nearly so sweet upon the niggers as formerly; for they discover that, now Cæsar being massa-pated, him no workdam if he do!

To meet this dramatic exigency, the Quadroon Slave has been produced. It may be classed as an argumentative drama; carried on with that stage logic which always makes the heroine get the best of it. The emancipation side of the question is supported by Julie, ably backed by Vincent St. George, but opposed by Alfred Pelham; and the lingual combatants rush in medias res at the very rising of the curtainthe house, immediately taking sides, vehemently applauding the arguments of their respective favourites. Vincent St. Georgeably entrusted to that interesting advocate Mr. J. Websteropened the discussion by protesting against the flogging system, especially as applied to females. Alfred Pelham answered him; the reply being taken up by the heroine Julie in broken French, because she is personated by Madlle. Celeste. The state of parties as here developed turns out to be curious. The heroine, a quadroon, is on the point of matrimonial union with her antagonist, and openly resents the tender advances of her ally. Call ye this backing of your friends? Vincent St. George, disgusted at such gross tergiversation, flies entirely away from the point at issue, and applies those remarks to Julie which all disappointed lovers seem to be bound to utter in such cases. Indeed, on the re-appearance of his rival, he challenges himunblushingly forsaking every branch of the main point, by engaging in a long and not very lively discourse on the subject of duelling; amidst, however, impatient cries of question! question! from the audience.

This brings Vincent back to the point, and with a vengeance! Like a great many other orators on the liberal side of the black question, he is a slave-owner himself, havingas his attorney Vipper is careful to tell usno fewer than two hundred and eight of those animals. Now, before he took upon himself to become an emancipationist, he mightone cannot help thinkinghave had the decencylike Saint Fowell Buxtonto sell his slaves to somebody else, and to come into court with clean hands. But so far from doing so, Vipper having discovered that Julie is a run-away slave from Vincents estate, just as she is ending the first act by going to be married, the latter takes the whole of the second act to claim her!

Though the argufiers change sides on account of the change of affairsVincent insisting, as liberals so often do, upon his vested rights in Julie as opposed to Pelhams matrimonial onesthough the heroine renders her pathetics affecting by a prostration or two before the rivalsthough she rushes upon a parapet to commit suicidethough she is saved, and at length succeeds by force of mere argument to get her new-found master to give her up to her husband; yet this second act was somewhat dull; insomuch that the audience did not seem to regret when the curtain dropped the subject, and announced their own emancipation from the theatre.

Besides the parts we have named, Webster the elder played a Telemachus Hearty, who, further than skipping about the stage, talking very fast, and making himself not altogether disagreeable, had no more to do with the piece than his namesake, or Fénélon Archbishop of Cambray himself.

This attempt to discuss moot points upon the stageto turn as it were the theatre into a debating societywill certainly not succeed. Audiencesespecially Haymarket oneshave a taste for being amused rather than reasoned with; besides, those on that side of the question which the author chooses shall be the weaker, do not like to see the stage- orators get the upper hand, without having a chance of answering them. Even dancing is preferred by them to didactics, though it be

A minstrel conducts a dog's barking. A PAS SEUL TO A BARK-AROLE.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 1. NOVEMBER 13, 1841. [pg 205] THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. (By the Observers own Correspondent.)

It will be seen that we were not premature in announcing the probability of the birth of a Prince of Wales; and though it was impossible that any one should be able to speak with certainty, our positive tone upon the occasion serves to show the exclusive nature of all our intelligence. We are enabled now to state that the Prince will immediately take, indeed he has already taken, the title of Prince of Wales, which it is generally understood he will enjoyat least if a child so young can be said to enjoy anything of the kinduntil an event shall happen which we hope will be postponed for a very protracted period. The Prince of Wales, should he survive his mother, will ascend the throne; but whether he will be George the Fifth, Albert the First, Henry the Ninth, Charles the Third, or Anything the Nothingth, depends upon circumstances we are not at liberty to allude toat present; nor do we think we shall be enabled to do so in a second edition.

Our suggestion last week, that the royal birth should take place on Lord Mayors Day, has, we are happy to see, been partially attended to; but we regret that the whole hog has not been gone, by twins having been presented to the anxious nation, so that there might have been a baronetcy each for the outgoing and incoming Lord Mayors of Dublin and London. Perhaps, however, it might have been attended with difficulty to follow our advice to the very letter; but we nevertheless think it might have been arranged; though if others think otherwise, we, of course, have nothing further to say upon the matter alluded to.

We very much regret to make an announcement, and are glad at being the first to do so, though we are sorry to advert to the subject, touching an alarming symptom in the Princess Royal. Her Royal Highness, ever since the birth of the Prince, whom we think we may now venture to call her brother, has suffered from an affection of the nose, which is said to be quite out of joint since the royal stranger (for we hope we may take the liberty of alluding to the Prince of Wales as a stranger, for he is a stranger to us, at least we have never seen him) came into existence.

We hear it on good authority that when the Princess was taken to see her brother, Her Royal Highness, who begins to articulate a few sounds, exclaimed, Tar! with unusual emphasis. It is supposed, from this simple but affecting circumstance, that the Prince of Wales will eventually become a Tar, and perhaps regain for his country the undisputed dominion of the seas, which, by-the-bye, has not been questioned, and probably will not be, in which case the naval attributes of His Royal Highness will not be brought into activity.

FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE. Master Smith took an airing on the 5th, accompanied by a Guy Fawkes and a very numerous suite. In the evening there was a select circle, and a bonfire.

Mr. Baron Nathan and family are still at Kennington. The Baron danced the college hornpipe, last Wednesday, on one leg, before a party of private friends; and the Honourable Miss Nathan went through the Cracovienne, amidst twenty-four coffee-cups and an inverted pitcher, surmounted by a very long champagne-glass. Upon inspecting the cups after the graceful performance was concluded, there was not a chip upon one of them. The champagne glass, though it frequently rattled in its perilous position, retained it through the whole of the dance, and was carefully picked up at its conclusion by the Baroness, who we were happy to find looking in more than her usual health, and enjoying her accustomed spirits.

Bill Bunks has a new feline provisional equipage ready to launch. The body is a dark black, and the wheels are of the same rich colour, slightly picked out here and there with a chalk stripe. The effect altogether is very light and pretty, particularly as the skewers to be used are all new, and the board upon which the haporths are cut has been recently planed with much nicety.

The travelling menagerie at the foot of Waterloo-bridge was visited yesterday by several loungers. Amongst the noses poked through the wires of the cage, we remarked several belonging to children of the mobility. The spirited proprietor has added another mouse to his collection, which may now be pronounced the firstspeaking, of course, Surreysideicallyin (entering) London.

SONGS FOR CATARRHS. The variable climate of our native land, as Rowland the Minstrel of Macassar has elegantly expressed it, like a Roman epicure, deprives our nightingales of their tongues, and the melodious denizens of our drawing-rooms of their sweet voices.

Vainly has Crevelli raised a bulwark of lozenges against the Demon of Catarrh! Soreness will invade the throat, and noses run in every family, seeming to be infected with a sentimental furor for bloomingwe presume from being so newly blown. We have seen noses chiseled, as it were, from an alabaster block, grow in one short day scarlet as our own, as though they blushed for the continual trouble they were giving their proprietors; whilst the peculiar intonation produced by the conversion of the nasals into liquids, and then of the liquids ultimately into mutes, leads to the inference that there must be a stoppage about the bridge, and should be placarded, like that of Westminster, No thoroughfare.

It has been generally supposed that St. Cecilia with a cold in her head would be incompetent to Nix my Dolly; and this erroneous and popular prejudice is continually made the excuse for vocal inability during the winter months. Now the effect which we have before described upon the articulation of the catarrhed would be, in our opinion, so far from displeasing, that we feel it would amply compensate for any imperfections of tune. For instance, what can be finer than the alteration it would produce in the well-known ballad of Oh no, we never mention her!a ballad which has almost become wearisome from its sweetness and repetition. With a catarrh the words would run thus:

O lo, we lever beltiol her,

Her labe is lever heard.

Struck with this modification of sound, PUNCH, anxious to cater even for the catarrhs of his subscribers, begs to furnish them with a calzolet, which he trusts will be of more service to harmonic meetings than pectoral lozenges and paregoric, as we have anticipated the cold by converting every m into b, and every n into l.

A SONG FOR A CATARRH. By Bary Alle is like the sul,

Whel at the dawl it flilgs

Its goldel sbiles of light upol

Earths greel and lolely thilgs.

Il vail I sue, I olly wil

Frob her a scorlful frowl;

But sool as I by prayers begil,

She cries O lo! begole.

Yes! yes! the burthel of her solg

Is lo! lo! lo! begole!

By Bary Alle is like the mool,

Whel first her silver sheel,

Awakes the lightilgales soft tule,

That else had silelt beel.

But Bary Alle, like darkest light,

Ol be, alas! looks dowl;

Her sbiles ol others beab their light,

Her frowls are all by owl.

Ive but ole burthel to by solg

Her frowls are all by owl.

POSSUM UP A GUM TREE! A grand gladiatorial tongue-threshing took place lately in a field near Paisley, between the two great Chartist championsFeargus OConnor and the Rev. Mr. Brewster. The subject debated was, Whether is moral or physical force the fitter instrument for obtaining the Charter? The Doctor espoused the moral hocussing system, and Feargus took up the bludgeon for physical force. After a pretty considerable deal of fireworks had been let off on both sides, it was agreed to divide the field, when Feargus, waving his hat, ascended into a tree, and called upon his friends to follow him. But, alas! few answered to the summons,he was left in a miserable minority; and the Doctor, as the Yankees say, decidedly put the critter up a tree. Feargus, being a Radical, should have kept to the root instead of venturing into the higher branches of political economy. At all events the Doctor, as the Yankees say, put the critter up a tree, where we calculate he must have looked tarnation ugly. The position was peculiarly ill-chosenfor when a fire-and-faggot orator begins to speak trees-on, it is only natural that his hearers should all take their leaves!

AN UNDIVIDED MOIETY. The Herald gives an account of two persons who were carried off suddenly at Lancaster by a paralytic attack each. We should have been curious to know the result if, instead of an attack each, they had had one between them.

[pg 206] THE HEIR OF APPLEBITE. CHAPTER IX. SHOWS THAT DOCTORS DIFFER. A large letter H with flowering vines twining it. aving christened his child, Agamemnon felt it to be his bounden duty to have him vaccinated; but his wifes mother, with a perversity strongly characteristic of the genus, strenuously opposed Dr. Jenners plan of repealing the small pox11. Baylis., and insisted upon having him inoculated. Poor Mrs. Applebite was sorely perplexed between her habitual reverence for the opinions of her mama and the dread which she naturally felt of converting the face of the infant heir into a plum-pudding. Agamemnon had evidently determined to be positive upon this point, and all that could be extracted from him was the one wordvaccination!

To which Mrs. Waddledot replied,

Vaccination, indeed!as though the child were a calf! Im sure and certain that the extreme dulness of young people of the present day is entirely owing to vaccinationit imbues them with a very stupid portion of the animal economy.

As Agamemnon could not understand her, he again ejaculatedVaccination!

But, my dear, rejoined Mrs. Applebite, Mama has had so much experience that her opinion is worth listening to; I know that you give the preference to

Vaccination! interrupted Collumpsion.

And so do I; but we have heard of grown-up peoplewho had always considered themselves securetaking the small pox, dear.

To be sure we have, chimed in Mrs. Waddledot; and its a very dreadful thing, after indulgent and tender parents have been at the expense of nursing, clothing, physicking, teaching music, dancing, Italian, French, geography, drawing, and the use of the globes, to a child, to have it carried off because a misguided fondness has insisted upon

Vaccination! shouted pater Collumpsion.

Exactly! continued the wifes mother. Now inoculate at once, say I, before the childs short-coated.

Agamemnon rose from his seat, and advancing deliberately and solemnly to the table at which his wife and his wifes mother were seated, he slowly raised his dexter arm above his head, and then, having converted his hand into a fist, he dashed his contracted digitals upon the rosewood as though he dared not trust himself with more than one word, and that one wasVaccination!

Mrs. Waddledots first impulse was to jump out of her turban, in which she would have succeeded had not the mystic rolls of gauze which constituted that elaborate head-dress been securely attached to the chestnut front with which she had sought for some years to cheat the world into a forgetfulness of her nativity.

I was warned of this! I was warned of this! exclaimed the disarranged woman, as soon as she obtained breath enough for utterance. But I wouldnt believe it. I was told that the member for Puddingbury had driven one wife to her grave and the other to drinking.I was told that it would run in the family, and that Mr. A.C. Applebite would be no better than Mr. I. Applebite!

Oh! Mamayou really wrong Aggy, exclaimed Theresa.

Its lucky for you that you think so, my dear. If ever there was an ill-used woman, you are that unhappy individual. Oh, that everIshould liveto see a child of minehave a child of hers vaccinated against her wish! and here Mrs. Waddledot (as it is emphatically styled) burst into tears; not that we mean to imply that she was converted into an explosive jet deau, but we mean that sheshewhat shall we say?she blubbered.

It is really surprising how very sympathetic women are on all occasions of weeping, scolding, and scandalising; and accordingly Mrs. Applebite opened the fountains of her eyes, and roared in concert with her mama.

Agamemnon felt that he was an injured maninjured in the tenderest pointhis character for connubial kindness; and he secretly did what many husbands have done openlyhe consigned Mrs. Waddledot to the gentleman who is always represented as very black, because where he resides there is no water to wash with.

At this agonising moment Uncle Peter made his appearance; and as actors always play best to a good audience, the weeping ladies continued their lachrymose performance with renewed vigour. Uncle Peter was a plain manplain in every meaning of the word; that is to say, he was very ugly and very simple; and when we tell you that his face resembled nothing but a half-toasted muffin, you can picture to yourself what it must have looked like under the influence of surprise; but nevertheless, both Agamemnon and the ladies simultaneously determined to make him the arbitrator in this very important matter.

Uncle Peter, said Agamemnon.

Brother Peter, sobbed Mrs. Waddledot.

Which are you an advocate for? hystericised Mrs. Applebite.

Vaccination or inoculation? exclaimed everybody ensemble.

Now whether Uncle John did clearly understand the drift of the question put to him, or whether he conceived that he was solicited to be the subject of some benevolent experiments for the advantage of future generations, it is certain that no man ever looked more positively

A man sits hooked on the crescent of the moon and waves at a passing balloon. ON THE HORN OF A DILEMMA

than Uncle Peter. At length the true state of the case was made apparent to him; and the conclusion that he arrived at reflects the greatest possible credit upon his judgment. He decided, that as the child was a divided property, for the sake of peace and quietness, the heir of Applebite should be vaccinated in one arm and inoculated in the other.

FALSE ALARM. We were paralysed the other day at seeing a paragraph headed Sibthorpes conversion. Our nose grew pale with terror; our hump heaved with agitation. We thought there existed a greater genius than ourselves and that some one had discovered that Sibthorp could be converted into anything but a Member for Lincoln, and buffoon-in-waiting to the House of Commons. We found, however, that it alluded to a Reverend, and not to OUR Colonel. Really the newspaper people should be more careful. Such startling announcements are little better than

A jester cuts the tail off of a dog. SHEE(A)R CRUELTY.

DOING THE STATE SOME SERVICE. During the conflagration of the Tower, it was apprehended at one time that the portion of it called the White Tower would have shared the fate of the grand store-house,this was however prevented by hanging wet blankets around it, in which capacity Peter Borthwick, Mr. Plumtre, Col. Percival, and Lord Castlereagh, kindly offered their personal services and were found admirably adapted for the purpose.

[pg 207] THE GENTLEMANS OWN BOOK. We will now proceed to the consideration of that indispensable adjunct to a real gentlemanhis purse. This little talisman, though of so much real importance, is very limited in the materials of its formation, being confined exclusively to silk. It should generally be of net work, very sparingly powdered with small beads, and of the most delicate colours, such conveying the idea that the fairy fingers of some beauteous friend had wove the tiny treasury. We have seen some of party colours, intended thereby to distinguish the separate depository of the gold and silver coin with which it is (presumed) to be stored. This arrangement we repudiate; for a true gentleman should always appear indifferent to the value of money, and affect at least an equal contempt for a sovereign as a shilling. We prefer having the meshes of the purse rather large than otherwise, as whenever it is necessarymind, we say necessaryto exhibit it, the glittering contents shining through the interstices are never an unpleasing object of contemplation.

The purse should be used at the card-table; but never produced unless you are called upon as a loser to pay. It may then be resorted to with an air of nonchalance; and when the demand upon it has been honoured, it should be thrown carelessly upon the table, as though to indicate your almost anxiety to make a further sacrifice of its contents. Should you, however, be a winner, any exhibition of the purse might be construed into an unseemly desire of welling, or securing your gains, which of course must always be a matter of perfect indifference to you; and whatever advantages you obtain from chance or skill should be made obvious to every one are only destined to enrich your valet, or be beneficially expended in the refreshment of cabmen and ladies of faded virtue. In order to convey these intentions more conspicuously, should the result of an evening be in your favour, your winnings should be consigned to your waistcoat pocket; and if you have any particular desire to heighten the effect, a piece of moderate value may be left on the table.

A horse throws a man into the roof of a house. A GENTLEMAN TAKING A FIRST FLOOR

cannot do better than find an excuse for a recurrence to his purse; and then the partial exhibition of the coin alluded to above will be found to be productive of a feeling most decidedly confirmatory in the mind of the landlady that you are a true gentleman.

The same cause will produce the same effect with a tradesman whose albumwe beg pardon, whose ledgeryou intend honouring with your name.

You should never display your purse to a poor friend or dependant, or the sight of it might not only stimulate their cupidity, or raise their expectations to an inordinate height, but prevent you from escaping with a moderate douceur by the kind manner in which you slipped a sovereign into their hand at parting.

A servant should never be rewarded from a purse; it makes the fellows discontented; for if they see gold, they are never satisfied with a shilling and I must see what can be done for you, James.