Chapter XIV: Act THREE (2)

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

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

_May 1, Twenty-ninth return of Wedding Day._

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

* * * * *

BRITISH BLACK SLAVERY.

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

* * * * *

VERY LIKE A WHALE.

The Yankee scheme for purchasing the fictitious title to the American Fisheries from the pretended EARL OF STIRLING, comes out under the auspices of an Ex-Secretary of State with the portentous name of--WALKER!

* * * * *

* * * * *

GREAT CATCHES.

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

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

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

In the same _Times_ that contained the foregoing announcement, appears also the following:--

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

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

"CHATTERTON the marvellous Boy,"

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

"The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride,"

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

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

* * * * *

ROEBUCK HIMSELF AGAIN.

The _Sheffield Independent_ announces that MR. ROEBUCK'S health is so much improved that he has accepted an invitation to the Cutlers' feast. We are happy to hear it, and hope MR. ROEBUCK will do the Cutlers the credit of playing a good knife and fork.

* * * * *

THE DECIMAL COINAGE.

_The Chairman of the Committee to the Vulgar (fractional) Public._

AIR--_"Won't you Come and take Tea in the Arbour?"_

The Coinage Committee, which sat in the City,
At last have completed their labour,
And derive from the action intense satisfaction;
We're sick of "COLENSO" and "MAVOR!"
But as it may be thought that we mean our "report"
For the special behoof of "the City,"
Half a page of the _Times_ we'll condense into rhymes
To the air of a popular ditty.
So, though it's uphilly, give up all your silly
Ideas, which might suit your grandfather
About shillings and pence, which are not common sense,
And take to the decimals rather!

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

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

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

* * * * *

THE BRITISH CONSULATE AT BOULOGNE.

(_From our Travelling Contributor._)

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

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

* * * * *

PHYSIC FOR BRUTES.

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

* * * * *

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

* * * * *

_French Official._ "YOU HAVE PASSPORT?"

_English Gent._ "NONG, MOSSOO."

_Official._ "YOUR NAME."

_Gent._ "BELLEVILLE."

_Official._ "CHRISTIAN NOM?"

_Gent._ "'ARRY!"

_Official._ "PROFESSION?"

_Gent._ "BANKER!"]

* * * * *

THE PLOUGHBOY'S DOOM!

The stubble-headed Ploughboy
No more a-field shall stride,
Smock-frocked, with whip on shoulder,
The steer or steed to guide;
At dawn, no more shall whistle
With early lark and thrush;
No longer stalk the fallows,
The clods no longer crush.

In vacant rumination,
No more shall sit on gate;
His shanks beneath him dangling
By hob-nailed highlows' weight.
That form of grace no longer
The hedgerows shall adorn,
His dab of bacon slicing
Upon his palm of horn.

The Boy--smock, boots, and bacon,
And whip,--must yield to Steam;
His whistle must be silent,
Whilst engines hiss and scream;
For MECHI has in action
A new machine e'en now,
And says his apparatus
Will supersede the Plough.

* * * * *

A BEAR SPECULATION.

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

BEAR FOR SALE.--A fine large RUSSIAN BEAR, very tame. To be seen on
board the Atalanta, CAPTAIN WESENBERG lying in the West India Import
Dock.

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

* * * * *

THE HEIGHT OF ABSURDITY.--A Vegetarian attending a Cattle Show.

* * * * *

LEADING ARTICLE FOR OLD LADIES.

(_On the proposed New Coinage._)

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

* * * * *

* * * * *

MR. PETERLOO BROWN'S EXAMINATION OF THE OXFORD STATUTES.

"DEAR MR. PUNCH,

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The statutes next call upon the matriculating candidate to swear that he will keep aloof from all rope-dancers and actors, and from the strifes and shows of--gladiators! (_Item quod, intra Universitatem Oxoniensem aut Praecinctum, absque speciali venia Vice-Cancellarii, nec Funambuli nec Histriones, qui quaestus causa in Scenam prodeunt, nec Gladiatorum certamina sive spectacula permittantur; nec Academici eisdem intersint._) Good gracious, _Mr. Punch_! is this the nineteenth century--is _Punch_ an institution of our land; have we got a Camp at Chobham, and a Fleet at Spithead, or are we RIP VAN WINKLES in an inverse degree, who have slept backwards into the past? My brain is fairly _muddled_, Sir, with the thought that I am about to send my son PETERLOO to a place which I had fondly imagined to be the centre of all enlightenment, and which I now find retains the barbarities of the darkest ages. I don't object to the rope-dancers and actors--although I might perhaps be inclined to ask why SHAKSPEARE, and SHERIDAN, and BULWER-LYTTON should be condemned as improper; and PLAUTUS, TERENCE, and JUVENAL decided to be the only pure and proper dramatic guides of youth--I don't object, I say, to my lad going to see the rope-dancing and acting, but I do decidedly object to his even having a chance of obtaining 'the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor' to be present at such degrading exhibitions as the 'sports of the Gladiators.' I shudder to think (and so does MRS. BROWN, Sir), that my lad, who has been so carefully brought up, will _really_ 'see before him the Gladiator lie, his manly form all cover'd o'er with wounds;' and that he will, perhaps--(I can assure you, Sir, that MRS. BROWN is obliged to have recourse to her smelling salts at the bare thought of such horrors)--that he will perhaps set his own slave (or scout) to fight for his amusement, and, like those frightful Romans that he is obliged to read about, will be turning up his thumbs to give the dreadful signal for his wretched servant's death! I must really pause a moment to recover my equanimity. Yet a bright thought strikes me! Perhaps, after all, _Mr. Punch_, these gladiatorial exhibitions are only intended to assist the students in their classical pursuits, the mind being, we know, often more speedily instructed through an appeal to the eye. And this idea is supported by the words of the Statute that the Students must not be present at such shows without the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor. For, of course, if there _are_ no gladiatorial exhibitions in Oxford, the candidates for matriculation would not be required to take oaths about them.

"It would fatigue both you and me, _Mr. Punch_ (weakened as I feel by these gladiatorial prospects), were I to make more lengthy observations on the Oxford Statutes; for the subject is so copious, that it would take me some time to travel through all the _Statutum ests_, and stop at each. Yet I think I have told you enough about them to enable you to give me your valuable opinion on the propriety and wisdom of suffering my son PETERLOO to enter an university, to the privileges of which he will only be admitted on the condition that he swears to observe all the foregoing Statutes, and a host of others, to the utmost of his power: '_Scito te_,' says the Vice-Chancellor, as he gives the young man a copy of the book which I have now been considering, '_Scito te in matriculam Universitatis hodie relatum esse, sub hac conditione, sempe, ut omnia Statuta, hoc libro comprehensa, pro virili observes_.'

"But I will add one word in favour of a few more Statutes of this '_Tit._ XV.' I am glad to see that, while my son will not be permitted to draw a weapon upon another, or threaten him with a knife, dagger, sword, or other species of weapon (_cultellum, pugionem, gladium, aut aliquot aliud genus teli aut distrinxerit, aut intentaverit, cum minis, &c._), yet, that he will be allowed to bear a bow and arrow for the sake of honest recreation (_qui honestae recreationis causa arcus cum sagittis portaverint_), and will not be suffered to ride in, or be the charioteer of, any vehicle, unless he is permitted to do so by the Proctors or the Heads of his College, on account of his infirm health, or some other reasonable cause (_nisi cui propter infirmam valetudinem aut rationabilem aliquam causam licentia, &c._). And yet, _Mr. Punch_, why does young BELLINGHAM GREY tell me tales of Traps, and Dog-carts, and Tandems, and Teams? Have _all_ their charioteers infirm health? or has that young gentleman, in this as in other things, been practising upon the credulity of

"Dear _Mr. Punch_,

"Your constant reader,

"PETERLOO BROWN."

[Footnote 4:] "Tragedy of Remorse." Act ii., Scene I.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE MONEY MARKET FOR INFANT MINDS.

Here go the Funds, up, up,
And there go Consols, down, down,
Fluctuate backwards and forwards,
And then come around, round, round,

NICHOLAS cries, "No, no!"
There's a fall in the Three-per-Cents,
Aloft like rockets they go
The moment the CZAR relents.

Sing hey! for the Bulls and Bears,
And ho! for the Turkey Cocks,
Sing Bonds, and Scrip, and Shares,
Sing British and Foreign Stocks.

Sing Ninety-seven, Two, Three,
Sing Two-and-a-Half at Par,
And that's the way L _s._ _d._
Depends upon Peace or War.

* * * * *

FLOWERS OF THE TOWZERY PLANT.

In these days of steam we encounter a great deal of puffing, but few probably have beheld the largest locomotive emit so extensive a puff as the subjoined:--

"Grand, Fortentous, and Most Auspicious Event. Speedy and Imperative
and Peremptory Sale of the Entire Stock of Shawls, Mantles, and
Robes, of

a firm that we will take the liberty of calling MESSRS. HOKES AND CO.

In the first place, MESSRS. HOKES are to be congratulated on having introduced a striking novelty into the English language--the word Fortentous; which, being big and indistinct, looms, as it were, at the head of their advertisement, with a misty sublimity.

The nature of the impending event, denominated "fortentous" is thus elucidated:--

"In consequence of the Proprietors being made Sole Agents for
MACINTOSH'S Registered Waterproof Dupallas, for Ladies' Sea-side,
Yachting, or Travelling Wear, they are determined to clear off their
entire Stock--and, doing this, they sink all Personal Interest,
forego every consideration of gain or lucre, renounce every motive
but the one Grand Object--that of a positive and absolute Clearance
of the entire Stock--and this, they are determined, must, will, nay
shall be accomplished, as the Dupalla will be ready for Inspection
in a few days."

This paragraph is a masterly composition--the very perfection of the insinuating style. Sinking all personal interest, foregoing every consideration of gain or lucre, renouncing every motive but that of desiring the positive and absolute clearance of a quantity of stock--that "one grand object" might obviously be accomplished in a simple and effectual manner by making a bonfire of the goods; which, moreover, would probably be the best thing to do with them.

The conclusion of H. AND CO.'S Puff at once invites criticism--and defies it--

"But words are but words, after all, so H. & CO. will proceed to lay
before the Public something of a more tangible nature. They pass on
to facts, and facts are stubborn things, but they unhesitatingly
affirm that the incontrovertible facts given in the annexed
quotations of prices, only require ocular observation to establish
their identity."

The stubbornness of H. AND CO.'s facts is only exceeded by their acquisitiveness; and perhaps, indeed, the latter propensity may be considered to have dictated their entire advertisement.

* * * * *

GENTILITY AT THE GOLD FIELDS.--Refinement in Australia appears to be a gross anomaly: and the only use of polish relates to boots.

* * * * *

OUR TOURIST IN PARIS. No. 2.

The traveller whose philosophy has passed through these severe trials, hungry, dirty, unshaved, weary, almost querulous, hurls his baggage and himself into a venerable and heavy hackney coach (such a one as DR. JOHNSON might have hired to take MRS. THRALE to the play), drawn by a pair of ragged grey ponies painfully over the rocky ways, which people here have the face to call a pavement. Half-an-hour's jolting brings him to the Hotel in the Rue de Richelieu, where he demands a lodging. "But yes, Monsieur can have a chamber, but certainly," is the cheerful announcement of the _concierge_, a very pearl among women, who advances from the lodge with a smile to welcome the travel-stained, ill-favoured guest. "Behold the steward who will make Monsieur know." "Give yourself the pain to mount, Monsieur," says a solemn official in a fur-cap, with a reverence. The traveller wearily ascends hundreds of shiny, slippery steps, till he arrives at the third floor, where he pauses out of breath. "Mount, mount always!" says the respectable conductor. "But Monsieur, behold us who are arrived at the fourth. This is in fine enough, is it not?" "But no, Monsieur, pardon; it is necessary to mount always." The traveller's hind legs are awfully done up; nevertheless, _allons_! we arrive at another floor. "Behold, Monsieur," gaily says the steward, as he opens the door of 299.

The first thing that strikes one is, that the last gentleman must have been addicted to chewing garlic, and smoking very bad tobacco. The windows, which appear not to have been opened for weeks, enable the fastidious English nostrils to analyse these flavours with unerring certainty. A little hall of entrance, furnished with a stove, a table, and a bench which seems intended for the repose of exhausted creditors before they make their unsuccessful appeal to milord, leads to an apartment furnished both as bed-room and sitting-room, with great taste and cheerfulness. The chairs are pretty in form, and covered with maroon velvet. There is a walnut table, escritoire, and chest of drawers. Over the chimney-piece of black marble is a mirror and a clock. (There is not a room in Paris which does not boast a looking-glass and a clock or clocks, though the latter may not go.) In a recess is a bed, which turns out to be perfect. The last detail, however, strikes the traveller with horror. He will be forced to wash with a slop basin and a milk jug. What to do? The official in the fur cap listens with smiling courtesy to the expostulations of Monsieur, but cannot comprehend his meaning.

There are excellent baths in the Rue Vivienne. But in the chamber? Ah, good, they shall bring a hot bath to Monsieur at three francs. It is still something else? The English waiter shall mount to Monsieur. A shower-bath, a hip-bath, or a sponging-bath he hath not seen, neither can he conceive. The philosopher straightway orders a hot bath, and makes a note never to leave his country for the future without a collapsible caoutchouc arrangement, which may so far make him independent of the short-comings of continental civilisation. The respectable steward retires, the hot bath arrives, painfully supplied with water by a groaning gentleman in a blouse who evidently hates his business, especially in its _higher walks_. Perhaps he will be a member of a Provisional Government some day, and pay society off for his present griefs.

Under the potent influence of hot water the traveller gradually returns to his usual serenity. The bravos of Dover, the exhibitions of weakness on board the steamer, the bureaucratic tediousness of the _douaniers_, the insolence of the police, the jolting over the _pave_, the interminable flights of stairs, all fade from his memory as he simmers into a happier and more tranquil world of thought. Mysterious analogy to the miracles of culinary science! His heart, so to speak, stews into tenderness in like manner as the lobster, hideous and savage, gradually is divested of his gross nature till he becomes the delicate inmate of a Mayonnaise. Full of this pathetic thought the sage reaps his chin, anoints his hair, makes an elaborate toilette, and descends like JUPITER from Olympus to mingle with men of lower earth. He returns with confidence the smiling salute of the _concierge_. Ah, Madame! you may now regard us; we carry fair linen, and smell of sweet odours: we are no longer a disgrace to Albion. An astounding breakfast, and so to the Boulevards.

How much alike men are! Here are a few more Leicester Squarers than one sees in Regent Street. The gentlemen wear plaited trowsers and broad-brimmed hats, and turn-down collars; women of the lower class walk about in caps; here and there is a blouse, and that is pretty nearly all the difference to be seen. To what end should we describe an ordinary Frenchman? Have we not seen him?--have we not noted him? What child is ignorant of his unobtrusive costume, his pantaloons full round his hips and covering all his boots, his pockets half way down his leg, his tight-waisted coat, his dubious linen, his not dubious hands and face, his modest gait and diffident manner? Know we not his hair grotesquely short or filthily long, his stubbly moustache and beard, or imperial, or republican; his high cheekbones, his eyebrows running up on each side; his vehement discourse, his grimaces, his shrugs, his lively gestures? Mark those three _flaneurs_! They are talking each as loud as he can on a different topic, not listening or listened to, yet perfectly happy and content. Would any one but a Frenchman call such monkey-jabber conversation--_and like it_?

They slacken their talk a little, to exhibit the national politeness. A lady, young, charming, and dressed to perfection, though a little more sumptuously than is usual with us for the promenade on foot, must descend into the kennel (a little river) if these Messieurs will not give place. Ah, bah! do not derange yourselves. JULES puts his head under her bonnet, and perfumes her exquisite coiffure with tobacco smoke. ADOLPHE and HORACE exchange _bon mots_ with a coarse laugh, and the poor lady makes her escape as she may. Oh, French politeness! truly thou art a thing of the past. The modern Gaul has still the trick of taking off his hat; but the spirit of courtesy is evaporated, leaving nothing but dregs behind.

Your correspondent leaves this last sentence as he wrote it in the heat of indignation (if his temper is capable of heat) at what _could not_ have happened in England. Mindful, however, of the danger of drawing general conclusions from particular premises, he wishes to limit his censure to French officials and French Boulevard _flaneurs_, the only persons that have as yet shown themselves to deserve it, and who may be unfavourable specimens of their countrymen. Certainly he has met with an obliging good humour in waiters and shop-keepers, that contrasts favourably with the reserved and almost sullen air of the same classes in England. On the other hand, carters and cabmen seem brutally cruel to their cattle, and will drive over a foot passenger (especially, perhaps, if an Englishman) without scruple. Who shall correctly appreciate these things?

* * * * *

A LION RAMPANT MAD.

That troublesome quadruped the British Lion, generally supposed defunct, turns out to have been Scotched not killed; as he is now roaring and bellowing more ridiculously than ever, in the character of the Lion of North Britain or Scotch Lion. He is clamouring not only for what he conceives to be his proper corner on the Royal flag, but also, on behalf of his baronetage and some other connexions, for the whole territory and fishing-grounds of the Royal Province of New Scotland, as he calls it; that is to say, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the adjacent regions. We expect very soon to hear this foolish old Lion roar for the moon, in a state of second cubhood. To humour him, however, it might be advisable to depict him wherever he wishes in that state of rampancy which he chooses to figure in, that is, in an attitude of rampant absurdity.

* * * * *

HONOURS TO PALMERSTON.

It is determined that LORD PALMERSTON--who goes in attendance upon the QUEEN to Scotland--shall have the freedom of Perth. Had PAM had his own way, we take it, long ere this, he would have had the freedom of Turkey.

* * * * *

THE HOUSE OF FAME.

DEDICATED, BY PERMISSION OF THE PRESIDENT AND COUNCIL, TO THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION.

Clear, and grey the day is dawning, free from each ill-omened warning,
And the sharp fresh air of morning blows upon our mountain way,
As o'er brook and chasm springing, or up woody crag-sides swinging,
Showers of dew and blossom bringing down from each rich laden spray;
While the birds from tree and thicket greet us with a jocund lay,
Merrily our band advancing, towards the mountain's summit glancing,
Sees the early sunbeams dancing on a dome of burnished flame,
Where, with open doors entreating our approach, a cordial greeting
Angel voices seem repeating, singing, sloth and fear to shame,
"Hasten! favoured mortals; hasten upward to the House of Fame!"
Pausing now, in contemplation, I perceive that every nation,
From each calling, class, or station, sends its quota to our band;
Poets jostling grave logicians; botanists by politicians;
Soldiers marching with physicians; kings, with hermits close at hand
Miners, aeronauts, and divers, pass before me as I stand.
OWEN, with a fossil tusk or femur strides along, and BUSK a
Jar has got of fresh Mollusca to sustain him in his toil;
WILLIAMS, fond of vermicelli, has a mess of small Sabellae,
Serpulae, and Terabellae; FOWLER in his "mortal coil"
Thinks he has a force sufficient any obstacle to foil.
MURCHISON, with CHAMBERS walking, of striated rocks is talking;
CUMMING up a glen goes stalking deer, with LANDSEER painting him;
BROUGHAM here and there is tripping, up the rocks for wild bees skipping,
In the brooks and fountains dipping; gazing, till his eyes are dim,
On the Sun, as "Hydrostatics," "Optics," "Instincts," suit his whim.
While ARAGO drags his dying limbs with us, and, though still plying
All his much-loved arts, is sighing for his country's broken laws:
Happier HUMBOLDT'S mind in masses groups rocks, pebbles, trees,
and grasses,
Clouds, brooks, torrents, mountain passes; thence one grand conclusion
draws;
From the greatest and the least of Nature's works the Common Cause
And purpose of them all divining. "Sages, in a well reclining,
Saw the stars at noon-day shining," ancient legends said; but HIND
Marching on in contemplation, by mere force of calculation
Every wandering planet's station in the sunlit sky can find,
Gazing at them from the deep recesses of his mighty mind.
And as thus, with collimators, syphons, hydro-incubators,
Seismoscopes and insulators, stuffed birds, insects, ferns and grasses,
Microscopic preparations, tons of fire-new publications,
Trophies of departed nations, jars of new invented gases,
Lenses, crucibles, and gauges, all the hurried _cortege_ passes;
CLAUDET, on the concourse gazing, as they come beneath the blazing
Sun, much dust around them raising, dips his brush in solar flame;
And so skilfully his art he plies, that 'ere the busy party
From before his eye can start, he manages the whole to frame
In one picture, as a fitting tribute to the House of Fame.
Now the glens and gorges clearing, and on steep bare slopes appearing
Blither grows our band at hearing, from the gazing crowd below,
Shouts of praise and gratulation: but our joy to consternation
Changes, on the observation that some men we do not know
Have crept up by other paths, and share our glory as we go.
And these interlopers blending thoughts of fame and pelf are vending
Various wares while they're ascending. FOX the public fancy hits,
At so much per scratch revealing scratches on the walls and ceiling,
Made with infinite good feeling, by dead heroes, bards, and wits,
To amuse an epileptic milliner between her fits.
REICHENBACH here runs up, saying he can see a marsh light playing
On the hill in open day; in swamps to sink above his knees
For his pains he is devoted. 'Mongst the rest, too, here, I noted
The unknown, but often quoted, author of the "Vestiges,"
Seeking for the geese that spring from barnacles that grow on trees.
Here our path with doubts and dangers thick is set; for shabby strangers,
Little better than bush-rangers, try our purses to retain:
Pupils these of PROUDHON'S teaching: CARLYLE runs amongst us preaching
That we are but wind-bags, screeching flunkies, shams and shadows vain:
CULLEN, WISEMAN, NEWMAN, tell us our true path is down again.
And a band, denominated Critics, of mere words created,
(Like the horses who were stated to be children of the wind)
Come to settle each pretension; but our best and wisest men shun
The oft proffered intervention of these blind guides of the blind;
On we press, and leave quacks, critics, dreamers, schemers, all behind.
From the crowd some intervening pine-trees now our band are screening,
Yet they shout, their praises meaning for the quacks we leave below.
We, with bated breath, slow creeping up the sharply rising steep, in
Indian file our course must keep in paths that faint and fainter grow--
Only by the spoils of those who went before, the track we know.
For in crevice, nook, and cranny peering, we perceive that many
Of our predecessors any loads they liked not, here threw down.
LOYOLA'S whole knightly armour, and the ploughshare of the farmer
HAMPDEN; SOUTHEY'S early drama of _Wat Tyler_; CODRUS' crown;
Stout ARCHBISHOP BLACKBURN'S cutlass; JOAN OF ARC'S plain hodden gown;
GALILEO'S _early_ notion of the Sun's diurnal motion;
BECKET'S slily feigned devotion to his Royal Master's sway;
LOPE'S, CALDERON'S, CERVANTES' swords, exchanged for pens, and DANTE'S
(When as force could not supplant his foes, he took a surer way);
BRUTUS' simulated weakness; strewn about the mountain, lay.
On these relics as we trample, fired by such a good example,
Some of our men leave an ample share upon the flinty strand;
PIO NONO'S contribution is his taste for Revolution;
"RUSSELL on the Constitution," tumbles from its author's hand;
DISRAELI flings away his projects to relieve the land;
Engineers let fall a shower of statements that the tractive power
Of steam, just fifteen miles an hour cannot possibly exceed;
SUGDEN his determination quits, the due acceleration
Of amended legislation, by mere quibbles to impede,
_Pelham_ and _Paul Clifford_ BULWER drops, and climbs with greater speed.
Now small hillocks round us lying mark the spots where others, trying
Feats beyond their strength, sank dying, ere the summit they could gain.
LUTHER'S love of toleration perished _here_ by congelation;
_There_ the too great elevation turned NAPOLEON'S seething brain;
_Here_ a whirlwind caught DESCARTES and swept him downward to the plain.
And the day is well nigh ended, as against the steep extended,
Each by each in turn befriended, each to each for succour clings;
While the tempest, well nigh brushing us away sweeps down, and gushing
From our very path come rushing mighty rivers' snow-fed springs,
And the avalanche's roar through far off glens and valleys rings;
But, a glimpse sometimes espying, through the clouds beneath us flying,
Of the plain all peaceful lying, of the paths by which we came,
Or, along the road before us, of the fame close hanging o'er us--
Where the high celestial chorus greeting every one by name,
Sings; "O! Hasten, favoured mortals! Hasten to the House of Fame!"--
Pressing upwards at a pace, meant for success, we reach the basement.
Shattered is each door and casement; ruined are the lower halls,
Not a word by us is spoken, seeing statues long so broken
That of what they were no token yet remains, and crumbling walls
Whence the mouldering tablet, carved with long-forgotten letters, falls.
Through these chambers sadly wending, and to other halls ascending,
Newer they appear, though tending slowly to a like decay;
ARISTOTLE'S, PLATO'S pages, which, through long succeeding ages,
O'er the minds of other sages held so absolute a sway;
Panels, which APELLES used, with all the colours worn away;
Witty jests of PERIANDER; bulletins of ALEXANDER;
Systems of ANAXIMANDER; fossil _Pterodactyles_ found
In the old Homeric strata; speeches that could once create a
New soul in a dying state, or burst the chains a tyrant bound;
Once loved arts and cherished customs; moulder on the dusty ground.
To the higher rooms approaching, still we find the new encroaching
On the old; the Moderns poaching coolly on the Ancients' land.
NIEBUHR'S stern determination many an ancient reputation
Tumbles from its lofty station; HARDOUIN'S sacrilegious hand
Threatens Virgil; SHEPHERD scarce will let one ancient father stand.
Nay, our predecessors hearing our approach, and greatly fearing
Hurt from us, on our appearing, mostly haste to give us way;
BREWSTER with delight is glowing, laurels won from NEWTON showing;
CUVIER yields his wreath to OWEN, DAVY _his_ to FARADAY;
HUME does homage to MACAULAY; FIELDING welcomes THACKERAY.
But though on the topmost story now we stand, we know our glory
Shall at best be transitory; brief our triumph is, though proud,
For, far down the mountain glancing, rays, that set for us, are dancing
On the rapidly advancing columns of a mighty crowd;
As their leaders cheer them on we hear them shouting long and loud.
That, as ours was, so their race is; that their course our track defaces;
That they crave our hard-won places; thrills us like a sudden flame;
And the high celestial chorus once again descending o'er us,
As of old it would implore _us_, sings, to urge _them_ on, the same
Strain of "Hasten, favoured mortals! Hasten to the House of Fame!"

* * * * *

NEW AMERICAN MOVEMENT.

Somebody writing from Naples, about Music, to a fashionable contemporary, says:--

"I know, too, more than half-a-dozen Americans who have left their
gold cupidity behind them, and are now in Italy, living in small
dirty back rooms with a piano-forte, practising _solfeggios_, with
the intention of becoming singers of Italian opera."

The development and cultivation of music in the soul of America may, perhaps, tend to arrest the progress of Filibusterism, and other stratagems and spoils; including the spoliation of black liberty: and to render the airs which JONATHAN sometimes gives himself--on the fishery question for instance--tolerable. But it will in all probability produce results yet more extraordinary. A go-ahead people will not be content to stop short at operas and concerts. Music will be utilized; applied to political and social purposes; employed to enhance the charms of eloquence, and adorn the wisdom of statesmanship. Patriots will sing bravuras at caucus or in Congress on behalf of freedom: and Presidents will express themselves in notes arranged to form symphonies; whilst the foreign policy of the States will take the form of overtures. The unseemly contests which sometimes occur in the Legislature will be replaced by grand scenas; and the stump-orator that now is will become a stump-warbler: whilst the mob will respond in chorus. American song will be famous all the world over, and command immense engagements, being paid for--as no doubt it will be delivered--through the nose.

* * * * *

A BISHOP IN DISTRESS.

It is seldom that signals of distress are hoisted from the episcopal bench; but the signals in question have actually been hung out recently on behalf of the BISHOP OF DURHAM. One of the "friends of the Church" has made the melancholy calculation that the good Bishop is in such an impoverished state that, after making sundry deductions, the poverty-stricken prelate has scarcely more than seven thousand a year to live upon. Considering how bishoprics go in the present day, we are astonished how the prelacy of Durham can pay at the price, and how, in fact, the bishop can manage to do it for the money.

We shall probably be told next that it is a losing concern, and that the occupant of the wretchedly seedy see is about to give it up in consequence of his being "out of pocket." We recommend the Bench of Bishops to fraternise with the cabmen in making one common stand against the system of reduced fares to which both have been doomed in obedience to the modern principles of economy. The Bench may object to the association, but it is clear there is some affinity between the episcopal and the other class, for the cabman can drive his horse, while both cabman and bishop can drive a bargain.

* * * * *

A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR.

Among the recent visitors to London we find notified an extraordinarily dense fog. This visitor, though somewhat obscure, created considerable sensation, and a sort of general illumination was got up by the London shopkeepers on the occasion. The fog arrived by the Thames, and made so much of the short time of remaining that the visitor was nearly all over London in a very brief period.

* * * * *

STANDING BY THEIR ORDERS.

Frenchmen having foreign orders are, by a recent decree, to be allowed henceforth to wear them. If the French boot-maker in Regent Street should really wear all the foreign orders he receives he will be papered from head to foot, and it will be necessary for him to wear an additional placard requesting bill-stickers to beware, to prevent them from mistaking him for a hoarding on which bills may be exhibited.

* * * * *

* * * * *

GREAT AND LITTLE SPORTSMEN.

Our fashionable contemporaries have been amusing their readers with the details of how many birds have been bagged by my Lord This, or the Honourable Captain Tother; and, as every class has a peculiar interest attached to it, we have been at some pains to collect the results of the sporting season among a somewhat humble order of individuals. The best accounts assure us that the DISHONOURABLE BILL SOAMES bagged no less than twenty pocket-handkerchiefs in a few hours, and brought down--off a clothes' line--everything within his reach. In the juvenile sporting circles MASTER JONES bagged twenty blue-bottles off his own pop-gun, and young SMITH had a splendid run after a butterfly with a few young dogs of about his own age.

* * * * *

ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS TO JARDIN DES PLANTES.

The following brief note has been forwarded by the Rhinoceros of our Zoological Gardens to Cow, the Rhinoceros of the Jardin des Plantes:--

"DEAR COW,--The French papers say you're the first rhinoceros in Europe since the time of the Romans. Gammon! I've been here more than these two years. But then, as it's only London, what should Frenchmen know about it?

Yours, from the bottom of my tank, R."

* * * * *

CHINA AND BACK--IN NO TIME!

The Chinese revolution threatens to lead to other revolutions, not only in England, but in Europe generally. As prognosticated by the _Times_, tourists are making quite a rush to the Celestial Empire. The CHUM-LI'S, CHOO-HOONS, MAR-CH-BANKS, and other Belgravian mandarins have already beat a precipitate retreat from Paris, Baden-Baden, and such common-place places, and have arrived at their respective mansions with a view to arrange passages to Pekin by the "tidal trains." Valets are busy packing and directing port-mantchoos (oh!) for the scene of the contentions of the MANTCHOO dynasty, and the youthful scions of Belgravia are already letting their tails grow in anticipation of the tour. To these latter, _Punch_ would whisper a caution: _they eat little dogs in China_. "Chinese in six lessons," "Chinese without a master," may now be seen placarded everywhere; while our old friend DR. BOWRING is busily engaged, and will shortly publish a Pekin guide book, with dialogues for every possible occasion, which will enable the reader to distinguish a Joss house from a Pagoda, and to ask for a "little more bird's nest," in the most approved accent. Those who are prevented by business or means from visiting this new fashionable resort, will doubtless become familiar with the manners and customs of Pekin through the medium of panoramas, or by becoming guests at the Feast of Lanterns and the flow of oil, as held at the Surrey Zoological.

* * * * *

THE BEST CHRISTIAN.