Chapter II: Part 2

Numerous were the visitors and small the contributions attendant upon the circulation of these "documents in madness." Many men are rather notorious in our great metropolis for "living upon nothing," that is, existing without the aid of such hard food as starved the ass-eared Midas; out these gentlemen of invisible ways and means have a very decent notion of employing four out of the twenty four hours in supplying their internal economy with such creature comforts as, in days of yore, disinherited Esau, and procured a somewhat gastronomic celebrity for the far-famed Heliogabalus. But a gentleman who could treat his stomach like a postponed bill in the House of Commons--that is, adjourn it _sine die_, or take it into consideration "this day seven years"--was really a likely person to attract attention and excite curiosity: accordingly, Bernard Cavanagh was questioned closely by some of his visitors; but he, like the speculation, appeared to be "one not likely to answer."

Apparent efforts at concealment invariably lead to doubt, and, doubt engendering curiosity, is very like to undergo, especially from one of the fair sex, a scrutiny of the most searching kind. Eve caused the fall of Adam--a daughter of Eve has discovered and crushed this heretofore hidden mystery. This peculiarly _empty_ individual was discovered by the good lady--despite the disguise of a black patch upon his nose and an immeasurable outspread of Bandana superficially covering that (as he asserted) useless orifice, his mouth--sneaking into the far-off premises of a miscellaneous vendor of ready-dressed eatables; and there Bernard the faster--the anti-nourishment and terrestrial food-defying wonder--the certificated of Heaven knows how many deacons, parsons, physicians, and fools--demanded the very moderate allowance for his breakfast of a twopenny loaf, a sausage, and a quarter of a pound of ham _cut fat_: that's the beauty of it--cut fat! The astonished witness of this singular purchase rushed at once to the hotel: Cavanagh might contain the edibles, she could not: the affair was blown; an investigation very properly adjudicated upon the case; and three months' discipline at the tread-mill is now the reward of this arch-impostor's merits. So far so good; but in the name of common sense let some experienced practitioner in the art of "cutting for the simples" be furnished with a correct list of the awful asses he has cozened at "hood-man blind;" and pray Heaven they may each and severally be operated on with all convenient speed!

* * * * *

"SLUMBER, MY DARLING."

During the vacation, the Judges' bench in each of the Courts at Westminster Hall has been furnished with luxurious air-cushions, and heated with the warm-air apparatus. Baron Parke declares that the Bench is now really a snug berth,--and, during one of Sergeant Bompas's long speeches, a most desirable place for taking

* * * * *

A FAMILIAR EPISTLE

FROM

JOHN STUMP, ESQ., POET LAUREATE TO THE BOROUGH OF GRUB-CUM-GUZZLE,

TO

SIMON NIBB, ESQ., COMMON-COUNCIL-MAN OF THE SAID BOROUGH,

_Setting forth a notable Plan for the better management of_

RAILWAY DIRECTORS.

DEAR SIMON,

If I were a Parliament man,
I'd make a long speech, and I'd bring in a plan,
And prevail on the House to support a new clause
In the very first chapter of Criminal Laws!
But, to guard against getting too nervous or low
(For my speech you're aware would be then a no-go),
I'd attack, ere I went, some two bottles of Sherry,
And chaunt all the way Row di-dow di-down-derry![1]
Then having arrived (just to drive down the phlegm),
I'd clear out my throat and pronounce a loud "Hem!"
(So th' appearance of summer's preceded by swallows,)
Make my bow to the House, and address it as follows:--
"Mr. Speaker! the state of the Criminal Laws"
(Thus, like Cicero, at once go right into the cause)
Is such as demands our most serious attention,
And strong reprobation, and quick intervention."
(This rattling of words, which is quite in the fashion,
Shows the depth of my zeal, and the force of my passion.)
"Though the traitor's obligingly eased of his head--
Though a Wilde[2] to the dark-frowning gallows is led--
Tho' the robber, when caught, is most kindly sent hence
Beyond the blue wave, at his country's expense!--
Yet so bad, so disgracefully bad, seems to me
The state of the law in this '_Land of the free_'"--
(Speak these words in a manner most zealous and fervid)--
That there's no law for those who most richly deserve it!
Yes, Sir, 'tis a fact not less true than astounding--
A fact--to the wise with instruction abounding,
That those who the face of the country destroy,
And hurl o'er the best scenes of Nature alloy--
Who Earth's brightest portions cut through at a dash--
Who mix beauty and beastliness all in one hash"--
(I don't dwell upon deaths, since a reason so brittle
Is but worthy of minds unpoetic and little)--
"Base scum of the Earth, and sweet Nature's dissectors,
Meet with no just reward--these same Railway Directors!"
I've not mentioned the "Laughters," the "Bravos," the "Hears,"
"Agitations," "Sensations," and "Deafening Cheers,"
Which of course would attend a speech _so_ patriotic,
So truly exciting, and anti-narcotic!
In this style I'd proceed, 'till I'd proved to the House
That these railways, in fact, were a national _chouse_,
And the best thing to do for poor Earth, to protect her,
Would be--_to hang daily a Railway Director!_
_Of course_ the Hon. Members could ne'er have a thought
Of opposing a motion with kindness so fraught;
But would welcome with fervent and loud acclamation }
A project so teeming with consideration, }
As a model of justice, a boon to the nation! }
Such, Simon, if I were a Parliament man,
The basis would be, and the scope, of my plan!
But my rushlight is drooping--so trusting diurnally,
To hear your opinion--believe me eternally
(Whilst swearing affection, best swear in the lump)
Your obedient,
devoted,
admiring,
JOHN STUMP.

[1] The exact tune of this interesting song it has not been in
our power to discover--it is, however, undoubtedly a truly
national melody.

[2] After due inquiry we have satisfied ourselves that the
individual here mentioned is _not_ H.M.'s late
Solicitor-General, but one Jonathan Wilde, touching whose
history _vide_ Jack Sheppard.

* * * * *

PROSPECTUS FOR A NEW HAND-BOOK OF JESTERS;

OR, YOUNG JOKER'S BEST COMPANION.

"All the world's a joke, and all the men and women merely
jokers."--_Shakspeare_. From the text of Joseph Miller.

Messrs. GAG and GAMMON beg most respectfully to call the strict attention of the reading public to the following brief prospectus of their forthcoming work "On Jokes for all subjects." Messrs. GAG and GAMMON pledge themselves to produce an article at present unmatched for application and originality, upon such terms as must secure them the patronage and lasting gratitude of their many admirers. Messrs. GAG and GAMMON propose dividing their highly-seasoned and warranted-to-keep-in-any-climate universal facetiae into the following various heads, departments, or classes:--

General jokes for all occasions; chiefly applicable to individuals' names, expressive of peculiar colours.

A very superior article on _Browns_--if required, bringing in said Browns in Black and White.

Embarrassed do., very humorous, with _Duns_; and a choice selection of unique references to the copper coin of the realm. Worthy the attention of young beginners, and very safe for small country towns, with one wit possessed of a good horse-laugh for his own, or rather Messrs. G. and G.'s jokes.

Do. do. on _Greens_, very various: bring in _Sap_ superbly, and _Pea_ with peculiar power; with a short cut to _Lettus (Lettuce)_, and Hanson's Patent Safety,--a beautiful allusion to the "Cab-age." May be tried when there is an attorney and young doctor, with a perfect certainty of success.

Do. do. do. On _Wiggins_; very pungent, suitable to the present political position; offering a beautiful contrast of Wig-_ins_ and Wig-_outs_; capable of great ramifications, and may be done at least twice a-night in a half whisper in mixed society.

Also some "Delightful Dinner Diversions, or Joke Sauces for all Joints."

_Calves-head_.--Brings in fellow-feeling; family likeness; cannibalism; "tete-a-tete"; while the brain sauce and tongue are never-failing.

_Goose_.--Same as above, with allusions to the "sage;" two or three that _stick in the gizzard_; and a beautiful work up with a "long liver."

_Ducks_.--Very military: bring in _drill_; drumsticks; breastwork; and pair of ducks for light clothing and summer wear.

_Snipes_.--Good for lawyers; long bill. Gallantry; "Toast be dear Woman." Mercantile; run on banks. And infants; living on suction.

_Herring_.--Capital for _bride_: _her-ring_; petticoats, flannel and otherwise, _herring-boned_. Fat people; _bloaters_; &c. &c. &c.

_Venison_.--Superior, for offering everybody some of your sauce. Sad subject, as it ought to be looked upon with a grave eye (_gravy_). Wish your friends might always give you such _a cut_. &c. &c. &c.

_Port_.--Like well-baked bread, best when crusty; flies out of glass because of the "bee's wing." Always happy to become a _porter_ on such occasions; object to general breakages, but partial to the cracking of a bottle; comes from a good "cellar" and a good buyer, though no wish to be a good-bye-er to it. All the above with beautiful leading cues, and really with two or three rehearsals the very best things ever done.

_Sherry_.--"Do you sherry?" "Not just yet." "Rather unlucky, _white whining_: like a bottle of port; but no objection to _share he_. Hope never to be out of the Pale of do.; if so, will submit to be done Brown."

N.B.--After an election dinner, any of the above valued at a six weeks' invitation from any voter under the influence of his third bottle; and absolute reversion of the chair, when original chairman disappears under table.

_Champagne_.--Real pleasure (quite new--never thought of before)--must be _Wright's_; nothing _left_ about it; intoxicating portion of a bird, getting drunk with pheasant's eye. What gender's wine? _Why hen's_ feminine. Safe three rounds; and some others not quite compact.

_Hock_.--Hic, hec, do.

_Hugeous_.--Glass by all means (_very new_); never could decline it, &c. &c. &c.

_Dessert_.--Wish every one had it; join hands with _ladies' fingers_ and bishops' thumbs: Prince Albert and Queen very choice "Windsor pairs;" medlars; unpleasant neighbour: nuts; decidedly lunatic, sure to be cracked; disbanding Field Officers shelling out the kernels, &c. &c. &c.

The above are but a few samples from the very extensive joke manufactory of Messrs. Gammon and Gag, sole patentees of the powerful and prolific steam-joke double-action press. They are all warranted of the very best quality, and last date.

Old jokes taken in exchange--of course allowing a liberal per-centage.

Gentlemen's own materials made up in the most superior style, and at the very shortest notice.

Election squibs going off--a decided sacrifice of splendid talent.

Ideas convertible in cons., puns, and epigrams, always on hand.

Laughs taught in six lessons.

A treatise on leading subjects for experienced jokers just completed.

A large volume of choice sells will be put up by Mr. George Robins on the 1st of April next, unless previously disposed of by private contract.

N.B.--Well worthy the attention of sporting and other punsters.

Also a choice cachinatory chronicle, entitled "How to Laugh, and what to Laugh at."

For further particulars apply to Messrs. Gag and Gammon, new and second-hand depot for gentlemen's left-off facetiae, Monmouth-street; and at their West-end establishment, opposite the Black Doll, and next door to Mr. Catnach, Seven-dials.

* * * * *

VERSES

ON MISS CHAPLIN--AND

THE BACK OF AN ADELPHI PLAYBILL.

Let Bulwer and Stephens write epics like mad,
With lofty hexameters grapplin',
My theme is as good, though my verse be as bad,
For 'tis all about Ellena Chaplin!

As lovely a nymph as the rhapsodist sees
To inspire his romantical nap. Lin
Ne'er saw such a charming celestial Chinese
"Maid of Honour" as Ellena Chaplin.

O Yates! let us give thee due credit for this:--
Thou hast an infallible trap lain--
For mouths cannot hiss, when they long for a kiss;
As thou provest--with Ellena Chaplin.

E'en the water wherein (in "Die Hexen am Rhein")
She dives (in an elegant wrap-lin-
Sey-woolsey, I guess) seems bewitch'd into wine,
When duck'd in by Ellena Chaplin.

A fortunate blade will be he can persuade
This nymph to some church or some chap'l in,--
And change to a wife the most beautiful Maid
Of the theatre--Ellena Chaplin!

* * * * *

CAUSE AND EFFECT.

The active and speculative Alderman Humphrey, being always ready to turn a penny, has entered into a contract to supply a tribe of North American Indians with second-hand wearing apparel during the ensuing winter. In pursuance of this object he applied yesterday at the Court of Chancery to purchase the "530 suits, including 40 removed from the 'Equity Exchequer,' which occupy the cause list for the present term." Upon the discovery of his mistake the Alderman wisely determined on

* * * * *

NEW ANNUALS AND REPUBLICATIONS.

ANNUALS.

FORGET-ME-NOT Dedicated to the "Irish Pisantry." By
Mayor Dan O'Connell.
FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING Dedicated by Mr. Roebuck to the _Times_.
THE BOOK OF BEAUTY Edited by Col. Sibthorp and Mr. Muntz.
THE JUVENILE ANNUAL Edited by the Queen, and dedicated to
Prince Albert

REPUBLICATIONS.

ON NOSOLOGY By the Duke of Wellington and
Lord Brougham.
A TREATISE ON ELOQUENCE By W. Gibson Craig, M.P.
COOPER'S DEAR-SLAYER By Lord Palmerston.

* * * * *

DISCOVERY OF VALUABLE JEWELS.

Public curiosity has been a good deal excited lately by mysterious rumours concerning some valuable jewels, which, it was said, had been discovered at the Exchequer. The pill-box supposed to enclose these costly gems being solemnly opened, it was found to contain nothing but an antique pair of false promises, set in copper, once the property of Sir Francis Burdett; and a bloodstone amulet, ascertained to have belonged to the Duke of Wellington. The box was singularly enough tied with red official tape, and sealed with treasury wax, the motto on the seal being "_Requiscat in Pace_."

* * * * *

SAYINGS & DOINGS IN THE ROYAL NURSERY.

We are enabled to assure our readers that his Royal Highness the Duke of Cornwall has appointed Lord Glengall pap-spoon in waiting to his Royal Highness.

The Lord Mayor, Lord Londonderry, Sir Peter Laurie, Sir John Key, Colonel Sibthorp, Mr. Goulburn, Peter Borthwick, Lord Ashburton, and Sir E.L. Bulwer, were admitted to an interview with his Royal Highness, who received them in "full cry," and was graciously pleased to confer on our Sir Peter extraordinary proofs of his royal condescension. The distinguished party afterwards had the honour of partaking of caudle with the nursery-maids.

Sir John Scott Lillie has informed us confidentially, that he is not the individual of that name who has been appointed monthly nurse in the Palace. Sir John feels that his qualifications ought to have entitled him to a preference.

The captain of the _Britannia_ states that he fell in with two large whales between Dover and Boulogne on last Monday. There is every reason to believe they were coming up the Thames to offer their congratulations to the future Prince of _Whales_.

* * * * *

THE REWARD OF VIRTUE.

We understand that Sir Peter Laurie has been presented with the Freedom of the Barber's Company, enclosed in a pewter shaving-box of the value of fourpence-halfpenny. On the lid is a medallion of

* * * * *

A difficulty, it is thought, may arise in bestowing the customary honour upon the chief magistrate of the city, upon the birth of a male heir to the throne, in consequence of the Prince being born on the day on which the late Mayor went out and the present one came into office. Sir Peter Laurie suggests that a petition be presented to the Queen, praying that her Majesty may (in order to avoid a recurrence of such an awkward dilemma) be pleased in future to

* * * * *

PUNCH'S THEATRE.

COURT AND CITY.

The other evening, the public were put in possession, at Covent Garden Theatre, of a new branch of art in play concoction, which may be called "dramatic distillation." By this process the essence of two or more old comedies is extracted; their characters and plots amalgamated; and the whole "rectified" by the careful expunction of equivocal passages. Finally, the _drame_ is offered to the public in _act_ive potions; five of which are a dose.

The forgotten plays put into the still on this occasion were "The Discovery," by Mrs. Frances Sheridan, and "The Tender Husband," by Sir Richard Steele. From one, that portion which relates to the "City," is taken; the "Court" end of the piece belonging to the other. In fact, even in their modern dress, they are two distinct dramas, only both are played at once--a wholesome economy being thus exercised over time, actors, scenery, and decorations: the only profusion required is in the article of patience, of which the audience must be very liberal.

The courtiers consist of _Lord Dangerfield_, who although, or--to speak in a sense more strictly domestic--because, he has got a wife of his own, falls in love with the young spouse of young _Lord Whiffle_; then there is _Sir Paladin Scruple_, who, having owned to eighteen separate tender declarations during fourteen years, dangles after _Mrs. Charmington_, an enchanting widow, and _Louisa Dangerfield_, an insipid spinster, the latter being in love with his son.

The citizens consist of the _famille Bearbinder_, parents and daughter, together with _Sir Hector Rumbush_ and a clownish son, who the former insists shall marry the sentimental _Barbara Bearbinder_, but who, accordingly, does no such thing.

The dialogues of these two "sets" go on quite independent of each other, action there is none, nor plot, nor, indeed, any progression of incident whatever. _Lord Dangerfield_ tells you, in the first scene, he is trying to seduce _Lady Whiffle_, and you know he won't get her. Directly you hear that _Sir Paladin Scruple_ has declared in favour of _Miss Dangerfield_, you are quite sure she will marry the son; in short, there is not the glimmer of an incident throughout either department of the play which you are not scrupulously prepared for--so that the least approach to expectation is nipped in the bud. The whole fable is carefully developed after all the characters have once made their introduction; hence, at least three of the acts consist entirely of events you have been told are going to happen, and of the fulfilment of intentions already expressed.

One character our enumeration has omitted--that of _Mr. Winnington_, who being a lawyer, stock and marriage broker, is the bosom friend and confident of every character in the piece, and, consequently, is the only person who has intercourse with the two sets of characters. This is a part patched up to be the sticking plaster which holds the two plots together---the flux that joins the _mettle_some _Captain Dangerfield_ (son of the Lord) to the sentimental _citoyenne_ _Barbara Bearbinder_. In fact, _Winnington_ is the author's go-between, by which he maketh the twain comedies one--the Temple Bar of the play--for he joineth the "Court" with the "City."

So much for construction: now for detail. The legitimate object of comedy is the truthful delineation of manners. In life, manners are displayed by what people do, and by what they say. Comedy, therefore, ought to consist of action and dialogue. ("Thank you," exclaims our reader, "for this wonderful discovery!") Now we have seen that in "Court and City" there is little action: hence it may be supposed that the brilliancy of the dialogue it was that tempted the author to brush away the well-deserved dust under which the "Discovery" and the "Tender Husband" have been half-a-century imbedded. But this supposition would be entirely erroneous. The courtiers and citizens themselves were but dull company: it was chiefly the acting that kept the audience on the benches and out of their beds.

Without action or wit, what then renders the comedy endurable? It is this: all the parts are individualities--they speak, each and every of them, exactly such words, by which they give utterance to such thoughts, as are characteristic of him or herself, each after his kind. In this respect the "Court and City" presents as pure a delineation of manners as a play without incident can do--a truer one, perhaps, than if it were studded with brilliancies; for in private life neither the denizens of St. James's, nor those of St. Botolph's, were ever celebrated for the brilliancy of their wit. Nor are they at present; if we may judge from the fact of Colonel Sibthorp being the representative of the one class, and Sir Peter Laurie the oracle of the other.

This nice adaptation of the dialogue to the various characters, therefore, offers scope for good acting, and gets it. Mr. Farren, in _Sir Paladin Scruple_, affords what tradition and social history assure us is a perfect portraiture of an old gentleman of the last century;--more than that, of a singular, peculiar old gentleman. And yet this excellent artist, in portraying the peculiarities of the individual, still preserves the general features of the class. The part itself is the most difficult in nature to make tolerable on the stage, its leading characteristic being wordiness. _Sir Paladin_, a gentleman (in the ultra strict sense of that term) seventy years of age, is desirous of the character of _un homme de bonnes fortunes_. Cold, precise, and pedantic, he tells the objects--not of his flame--but of his declarations, that he is consumed with passion, dying of despair, devoured with love--talking at the same time in parenthetical apologies, nicely-balanced antitheses, and behaving himself with the most frigid formality. His bow (that old-fashioned and elaborate manual exercise called "making a leg") is in itself an epitome of the manners and customs of the ancients.

Madame Vestris and Mr. C. Matthews played _Lady_ and _Lord Whiffle_--two also exceedingly difficult characters, but by these performers most delicately handled. They are a very young, inexperienced (almost childish), and quarrelsome couple. Frivolity so extreme as they were required to represent demands the utmost nicety of colouring to rescue it from silliness and inanity. But the actors kept their portraits well up to a pleasing standard, and made them both quite _spirituels_ (more French--that _Morning Post_ will be the ruin of us), as well as in a high degree natural.

All the rest of the players, being always and altogether actors, within the most literal meaning of the word, were exactly the same in this comedy as they are in any other. Mr. Diddear had in _Lord Dangerfield_ one of those parts which is generally confided to gentlemen who deliver the dialogue with one hand thrust into the bosom of the vest--the other remaining at liberty, with which to saw the air, or to shake hands with a friend. Mr. Harley played the part of Mr. Harley (called in the bills _Humphrey Rumbush_) precisely in the same style as Mr. Harley ever did and ever will, whatever dress he has worn or may wear. The rest of the people we will not mention, not being anxious for a repetition of the unpleasant fits of yawning which a too vivid recollection of their dulness might re-produce. The only merit of "Court and City" being in the dialogue--the only merit of that consisting of minute and subtle representations of character, and these folks being utterly innocent of the smallest perception of its meaning or intention--the draughts they drew upon the patience of the audience were enormous, and but grudgingly met. But for the acting of Farren and the managers, the whole thing would have been an unendurable infliction. As it was, it afforded a capital illustration of

* * * * *

TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR!

The dramatic capabilities of "Ten Thousand a-Year," as manifested in the vicissitudes that happen to the Yatton Borough (appropriately recorded by Mr. Warren in _Blackwood's Magazine_), have been fairly put to the test by a popular and _Peake_-ante play-wright. What a subject! With ten thousand a-year a man may do anything. There is attraction in the very sound of the words. It is well worth the penny one gives for a bill to con over those rich, euphonious, delicious syllables--TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR! Why, the magic letters express the concentrated essence of human felicity--the _summum bonum_ of mortal bliss!

_Charles Aubrey_, of Yatton, in the county of York, Esquire, possesses ten thousand a-year in landed property, a lovely sister in yellow satin, a wife who can sing, and two charming children, who dance the mazourka as well as they do it at Almack's, or at Mr. Baron Nathan's. As is generally the case with gentlemen of large fortunes, he is the repository of all the cardinal virtues, and of all the talents. Good husbands, good fathers, good brothers, and idolised landlords, are plenty enough; but a man who, like _Aubrey_, is all these put together, is indeed a scarce article; the more so, as he is also a profound scholar, and an honest statesman. In short, though pretty well versed in the paragons of virtue that belong to the drama, we find this _Charles Aubrey_ to be the veriest angel that ever wore black trousers and pumps.

The most exalted virtue of the stage is, in the long run, seen in good circumstances, and _vice versa_; for, in this country, one of the chief elements of crime is poverty. Hence the picture is reversed; we behold a striking contrast--a scene antithetical. We are shown into a miserable garret, and introduced to a vulgar, illiterate, cockneyfied, dirty, dandified linendraper's shopman, in the person of _Tittlebat Titmouse_. In the midst of his distresses his attention is directed to a "Next of Kin" advertisement. It relates to him and to the Yatton property; and if you be the least conversant with stage effect, you know what is coming: though the author thinks he is leaving you in a state of agonising suspense by closing the act.

The next scene is the robing-room of the York Court-house; and the curtains at the back are afterwards drawn aside to disclose a large cupboard, meant to represent an assize-court. On one shelf of it is seated a supposititious Judge, surrounded by some half-dozen pseudo female spectators; the bottom shelf being occupied by counsel, attorney, crier of the court, and plaintiff. The special jury are severally called in to occupy the right-hand shelf; and when the cupboard is quite full, all the forms of returning a verdict are gone through. This is for the plaintiff! Mr. Aubrey is ruined; and _Mr. Titmouse_ jumps about, at the imminent risk of breaking the cupboard to pieces, having already knocked down a counsel or two, and rolled over his own attorney.

This idea of dramatising proceedings at _nisi prius_ only shows the state of destitution into which the promoters of stage excitement have fallen. The Baileys, Old and New, have, from constant use, lost their charms; the police officers were completely worn out by Tom and Jerry, Oliver Twist, &c.; so that now, all the courts left to be "done" for the drama are the Exchequer and Ecclesiastical, Secondaries and Summonsing, Petty Sessions and Prerogative. But what is to happen when these are exhausted? The answer is obvious:--Mr. Yates will turn his attention to the Church! Depend upon it, we shall soon have the potent Paul Bedford, or the grave and reverend Mr. John Saunders, in solemn sables, _converting_ the stage into a Baptist meeting, and repentant supernumeraries with the real water!

Hoping to be forgiven for this, perhaps misplaced, levity, we proceed to Act III., in which we find that, fortune having shuffled the cards, and the judge and jury cut them, _Mr. Titmouse_ turns up possessor of Yatton and ten thousand a-year; while _Aubrey_, quite at the bottom of the pack, is in a state of destitution. To show the depth of distress into which he has fallen, a happy expedient is hit upon: he is described as turning his attention and attainments to literature; and that the unfathomable straits he is put to may be fully understood, he is made a reviewer! Thus the highest degree of sympathy is excited towards him; for everybody knows that no person would willingly resort to criticism (literary or dramatic) as a means of livelihood, if he could command a broom and a crossing to earn a penny by, or while there exists a Mendicity Society to get soup from.

We have yet to mention one character; and considering that he is the main-spring of the whole matter, we cannot put it off any longer. _Mr. Gammon_ is a lawyer--that is quite enough; we need not say more. You all know that stage solicitors are more outrageous villains than even their originals. _Mr. Gammon_ is, of course, a "fine speciment of the specious," as Mr. Hood's Mr. Higgings says. It is he who, finding out a flaw in _Aubrey's_ title, angled per advertisement for the heir, and caught a _Tittlebat--Titmouse_. It is he who has so disinterestedly made that gentleman's fortune.--"Only just merely for the sake of the costs?" one naturally asks. Oh no; there is a stronger reason (with which, however, reason has nothing to do)--love! _Mr. Gammon_ became desperately enamoured of _Miss Aubrey_; but she was silly enough to prefer the heir to a peerage, _Mr. Delamere. Mr. Gammon_ never forgave her, and so ruins her brother.

Having brought the whole family to a state in which he supposes they will refuse nothing, _Gammon_ visits _Miss Aubrey_, and, in the most handsome manner, offers her--notwithstanding the disparity in their circumstances--his hand, heart, and fortune. More than that, he promises to restore the estate of Yatton to its late possessor. To his astonishment the lady rejects him; and, he showing what the bills call the "cloven foot," _Miss Aubrey_ orders him to be shown out. Meantime, _Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse_, having been returned M.P. for Yatton, has made a great noise in house, not by his oratorical powers, but by his proficient imitations of cock-crowing and donkey-braying.

This being Act IV., it is quite clear that _Gammon's_ villany and _Tittlebat's_ prosperity cannot last much longer. Both are ended in an original manner. True to the principle with which the Adelphi commenced its season--that of putting stage villany into comedy--Mr. Gammon concludes the _facetiae_ with which his part abounds by a comic suicide! All the details of this revolting operation are gone through amidst the most ponderous levity; insomuch, that the audience had virtue enough to hiss most lustily[3].

[3] While this page was passing through the press, we witnessed a
representation of "Ten Thousand a-Year" a second time, and
observed that the offensiveness of this scene was considerably
abated. Mr. Lyon deserves a word of praise for his acting in
that passage of the piece as it now stands.

Thus the string of rascality by which the piece is held together being cut, it naturally finishes by the reinstatement of Aubrey--together with a view of Yatton in sunshine, a procession of charity children, mutual embraces by all the characters, and a song by Mrs. Grattan. What becomes of _Titmouse_ is not known, and did not seem to be much cared about.

This piece is interesting, not because it is cleverly constructed (for it is not), nor because _Mr. Titmouse_ dyes his hair green with a barber's nostrum, nor on account of the cupboard court of _Nisi Prius_, nor of the charity children, nor because Mr. Wieland, instead of playing the devil himself, played _Mr. Snap_, one of his limbs--but because many of the scenes are well-drawn pictures of life. The children's ball in the first "epoch," for instance, was altogether excellently managed and _true_; and though many of the characters are overcharged, yet we have seen people like them in Chancery-lane, at Messrs. Swan and Edgar's, in country houses, and elsewhere. The suicide incident is, however, a disgusting drawback.

The acting was also good, but too extravagantly so. Mr. Wright, as _Titmouse_, thought perhaps that a Cockney dandy could not be caricatured, and he consequently went desperate lengths, but threw in here and there a touch of nature. Mr. Lyon was as energetic as ever in _Gammon_; Mrs. Yates as lugubrious as is her wont in _Miss Aubrey_; Mrs. Grattan acted and looked as if she were quite deserving of a man with ten thousand a year. As to her singing, if her husband were in possession of twenty thousand per annum, (would to the gods he were!) it could not have been more charmingly tasteful. The pathetics of Wilkinson (as _Quirk_) in the suicide scene, and just before the event, deserve the attention and imitation of Macready. We hope the former comedian's next character will be Ion, or, at least, Othello. He has now proved that smaller parts are beneath his purely histrionic talents.

Mr. Yates did not make a speech! This extraordinary omission set the house in a buzz of conjectural wonderment till "The Maid of Honour" put a stop to it.

NOTE.--A critique on this piece would have appeared last week, if it had pleased some of the people at the post-office (through which the MS. was sent to the Editors) not to steal it. Perhaps they took it for something valuable; and, perhaps, they were not mistaken. Thanks be to Mercury, we have plenty of wit to spare, and can afford some of it to be stolen now and then. Still we entreat Colonel Maberly (Editor of the "Post" in St. Martin's-le-Grand) to supply his clerks with jokes enough to keep them alive, that they may not be driven to steal other people's. The most effectual way to preserve them in a state of jocular honesty would be for him to present every person on the establishment with a copy of "Punch" from week to week.

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