Chapter XXV: Letter XLIII (5)

The above is faithfully translated from the German, a language in which the distinguished sportsmen always shoot. COLONEL FLINT does not know a word of German.

* * * * *

IN EAST AND NORTH.

Two sisters stand by Stamboul's sunny waters,
Two sisters sit where Arctic ice-winds rave--
Hands clasped, the first watch a fleet's crew at quarters;
Hands clasped, the second weep beside a grave.

The same two sisters;--long upon each other,
Stern have they frowned across their Channel sea:
But now all rivalries and hates they smother,
And sit thus, hand in hand laid lovingly.

Why, sisters, rest ye thus at peace together,
Your ancient feuds and factions all laid by?--
Why smile you in that purple Asian weather?
Why weep you 'neath that leaden Polar sky?

"Two causes, stranger, hold us thus united--
Both fit to make true friends of noble foes:
In the bright East we stand to see wrong righted,
In the black North, a hero's eyes we close.

"Those battle flags that side by side are swelling
Speak of brute force defied, of law maintained,
Those funeral flags that side by side are trailing,
Speak both of loss endured and triumph gained.

"Yon banded fleet to all the nations teaches
He that doth wrong his wrong shall sore abye;
The icy monument of Bellot preaches
How nobly love can live, how grandly faith can die.

"Are not these lessons worthy of the giving?
To give them is't not well we use our might?
Then leave us to our gladness and our grieving,
Under the Eastern sun, beneath the Polar night."

* * * * *

CHINESE HUMANITY.

The Chinese Imperial general offered to his soldiers two dollars a head--the head duly cut off--of the enemy. Well, the enemy not forthcoming, the gallant soldiers took off the heads of their friends. The heads becoming cumbrous from their number, the general declared that he would be sufficiently satisfied with the instalment of ears. Whereupon the gallant Chinese accosted the villagers, men and women, in Shaksperian utterance--"Lend us your ears," and they granted the loan as security for their head.

* * * * *

Epitaph on a Plucked Man.

His Pluckings sore long time he bore,
But PALEY was in vain;
At length, disgusted, he took and "cussed" it,
And didn't try again.

* * * * *

A CLOSE CONTRIVANCE AT WINCHESTER!

Old Winchester--as most people know, and the rest may have heard--has a noble Cathedral. But what is the noblest Cathedral in the possession of an ignoble clergy? A temple inhabited by owls and bats--infested with rats and mice; stupid, crawling, disagreeable and voracious creatures.

Winchester Cathedral, however, rejoices under the guardianship of a body of divines of whom it may fearlessly be asserted that they neither hoot nor squeak, nor fly on any wings but those of devotion, nor offend the external senses, nor nibble to any extent that is uncapitular.

Some Chapters--the excellent DEAN OF WINCHESTER is stricken in years, and for the present management of the affairs of the Cathedral, renown and honour are probably due altogether to his subordinates--, some lazy indifferent Chapters, content themselves with keeping the glorious buildings bequeathed to them by the great churchmen of the Middle Ages in simple repair. This may, indeed, include ornamental restorations. But here they stop. Averse to progress, these prebendal sloths do nothing whatever to improve their cathedrals, by alterations and embellishments in accordance with the feelings and wants of the age.

Sluggish indifference like this is not to be cast, in the teeth of those high-minded and liberal clergymen, the Chapter of Winchester. We are informed that they have lately enriched the interior of that majestic edifice with additional features, which, whilst subservient to utility, have, at the same time, the high aesthetical merit of embodying, or symbolising the canonical spirit of the nineteenth century.

Double rows of iron hurdles, surmounted by _chevaux-de-frise_, have been placed by these magnanimous dignitaries across the aisles of the Cathedral.

We are sorry to say that a correspondent, writing from Winchester, is so disrespectful as to suggest a motive for the erection of these barriers of a nature unclerical, if not unworthy. He supposes that the reverend gentry of the Close have taken to sporting, and as neither custom, nor the agriculturists to whom the meadows belong, would allow them to ride steeple-chases in the valley of the Itchen, they have set up "bullfinchers" within their own bounds, in order to prosecute the chase of the steeple within the church.

* * * * *

_PUNCH_ THE ONLY RECOGNISED PROMOTER OF LITERATURE.

A wholesome caution has just been administered to self-styled Literary Institutions, which claim exemption from Poor Rate by the assumption of a title which they do not carry out. At the Bath Quarter Sessions a set of persons calling themselves the Bath Literary and Scientific Institution, had the effrontery to make a claim to freedom from taxation; and on the question being put to one of the witnesses--"Is _Punch_ taken in at the Institution?" the reply was in the negative. This of course settled the point as to the Society being one for the advancement of literature; and the Sessions instantly decided against the claim.

We hope Literary Societies in general will take a note of this important decision, which lays it down, on legal authority, that the taking in of _Punch_ is satisfactory evidence of an intention to promote literature. The Bath chaps who sought exemption on insufficient grounds, have received a lesson which we trust will not be lost on those who fail to "mind their _Punch_," and who fancy themselves promoters of literature without qualifying themselves by that test which is now recognised by a legal tribunal as decisive, and will, we hope, find its way into "the Books" as soon as possible.

* * * * *

THE CITY COAXING THE CROWN.

Those renowned gourmands, the Corporation of the City of London, have got up a new dish, in the hope that it may prove a "pretty dish to set before the QUEEN;" adulation dished up as a sort of curry or attempt at currying of favour with an illustrious Prince. By their proposal to erect a statue to PRINCE ALBERT during his lifetime, they will not, however, succeed in the scheme of cajoling the Crown to interfere between their corruptions and reform; and the meal they propose for the acceptance of His Royal Highness will prove a mess. They had better relinquish their endeavours to add lustre to the reputation of the Prince, and transfer their attention to his boots.

* * * * *

A LETTER AND AN ANSWER.

_The_ PRESBYTERS _to_ PALMERSTON.

The Plague has come among us,
Miserable sinners!
Fear and remorse have stung us,
Miserable sinners!
We ask the State to fix a day.
Whereon all men may fast and pray,
That Heaven will please to turn away
The Plague that works us sore dismay.
Miserable sinners!

PALMERSTON _to the_ PRESBYTERS.

The Plague that comes among you,
Miserable sinners!
To effort hath it strung you?
Miserable sinners!
You ask that all should fast and pray;
Better all wake and work, I say;
Sloth and supineness put away,
That so the Plague may cease to slay;
Miserable sinners!

For Plagues like other evils,
Miserable sinners!
Are GOD'S and not the Devil's,
Miserable sinners!
Scourges they are, but in a hand
Which love and pity do command;
And when the heaviest stripes do fall,
'Tis where they're wanted most of all,
Miserable sinners!

Look round about your city,
Miserable sinners!
Arouse to shame and pity.
Miserable sinners!
Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;
Fast: but feed those for want who fail;
Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace,
But bow with cleaner hands and face,
Miserable sinners!

All Time GOD'S Law hath spoken,
Miserable sinners!
That Law may not be broken,
Miserable sinners!
But he that breaks it, must endure
The penalty which works the cure.
To us, for GOD'S great laws transgressed,
Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,
Miserable sinners!

We cannot juggle Heaven,
Miserable sinners!
With one day out of seven,
Miserable sinners!
Shall any force of fasts atone
For years of duty left undone?
How expiate with prayer or psalm,
Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?
Miserable sinners!

Let us be up and stirring,
Miserable sinners!
'Mongst ignorant and erring,
Miserable sinners!
Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,
Believing this the fittest fast,
For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sun
There is no prayer like work well done,
Miserable sinners!

* * * * *

GOLDEN BULLETS.

Last week news arrived from Santa Fe of a tribe of warlike Indians, who use "Golden Bullets." Since then MR. WYLD--of the Great Globe--has been daily beset by gentlemen from the Minories and Houndsditch, for maps of the exact locality. COLONEL ISRAEL is at this moment raising a company of the Jewish persuasion, to be called the Rag Fair Rangers.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A REGULAR NUISANCE.

MR. PUNCH has long ago been appointed, by and under his own act, Inspector-General of Nuisances, and he may certainly take credit for the removal of a great many nuisances long before the legislature gave its attention to the subject.

_Mr. Punch_ has lately been engaged in the inspection of the great City of London Corporation Nuisance, and refers to the annexed report for the result of his observations:

REPORT.

My attention was first drawn to the Corporation Nuisance by the very bad odour surrounding the locality, and by a very general rumour that an offensive body, in a most alarming state of corruption, was lying within the precincts of the City of London.

I accordingly proceeded to visit the spot, where a lamentable scene presented itself. I found some four-and-twenty individuals huddled, or, rather, closeted together, in one room, surrounded by a quantity of refuse vegetable and animal matter (apparently composed of pine-apple and venison), the effluvium from which was of the most deleterious character. On examining further, I found a large quantity of thick fluid, in the midst of which were several portions of a glutinous green turtley material, and over the surface a sort of coating had formed, which might almost be cut with a knife--so thick was the matter that had settled on the top of the stagnant liquid. This deleterious wash had been placed in vessels resembling soup-tureens, and was no doubt intended for removal, a great deal of it having been already got rid of by the persons assembled in the room, who appear, however, to have been unable to proceed further with their disgusting operation. I found them in a state of considerable exhaustion among the refuse stuff, and there can be no doubt that the condition in which they are living is highly injurious to the health--moral as well as physical--and likely to exercise a most contaminating influence on the surrounding atmosphere.

In pursuance of this report _Mr. Punch_ feels it his duty to order the removal of the nuisance within a reasonable time, for the parties have been so frequently warned that there is little hope they will of themselves proceed to abate the evils that have so long been matter of public notoriety. _Mr. Punch_ intends proceeding to inspect other departments of the great City of London Corporation Nuisance, and to persevere until a clean bill of health can be presented.

* * * * *

ARISTOCRACY AND ITS ANTIPODES.

If the Legislative Council of New South Wales are enabled to effect their proposal for the creation of an hereditary Peerage in that colony, it will be necessary to assign armorial bearings to the new noblemen. This will be no very difficult matter; respect being had to the origin of the chief families that will be comprised in that aristocracy. For example, here is the blazon of a coat that might be borne by the name of SIKES, elevated to the Dukedom of Norfolk Island.

_Gules_, on a cross _ermine_, between four hand-cuffs, _or_, a jemmy of the field. Crest, out of a window shutter _vert_ a hand, _sable_, grasping a centre-bit _proper_.

The above coat will readily be seen to indicate that the founder of the bearer's family had been transported for burglary accompanied by violence. The latter feature of his achievements is denoted by the sanguinary colour of the field, and of the implement depicted on the centre of the scutcheon. By the number of the handcuffs are signified two convictions. The cross alludes to crossing the herring-pond, and the ermine indicates the judicial sentence by which the voyage was prescribed. The crest speaks for itself; the use of the term sable is an allowable liberty, as being necessary to represent the probable state of the member to which it is applied, considered in relation to soap and water. The family motto might be, _Mortuus vivo_, which would be a neat paraphrase of "Death Recorded."

The horse, the sheep, the pig, and other cattle--for stealing which the forefathers of the ennobled parties were relegated--would furnish abundance of animal forms for the purposes of heraldic symbolism. To these might be added the magpie, the stoat, the weasel, and other creatures that are the emblems of theft and larceny. Though, for the matter of that, the more ancient devices of eagles, dragons, griffins, lions, and the like beasts and birds of prey, would do quite sufficiently well to glorify exploits of plunder and rapine; nor could any motto for the member of a Botany Bay nobility be more suitable than some of those very professions of ancestral principle, which are the glory of certain high pedigrees among ourselves. "Thou shall want ere I want," for instance, would precisely suit the descendant of a footpad. A convict who had become a prosperous gentleman, after having completed his sentence of transportation for seven years, could not have left a happier legend to his posterity, than "I bide my time." Moreover, when it is considered that the foundation of not a few among our own great houses was either fraud or force, it cannot be asserted that a Peerage of New South Wales would not rest to a considerable extent on a like basis with the British nobility. So that, when you come to think it, there may not be so very much difference, after all, between those who came in with the Conqueror, and those who went out in the convict ship.

* * * * *

_The Inspector of Nuisances._ "HALLO! HERE'S A VERY BAD CASE--A ROOM FULL OF PIGS I DECLARE, AND AN IMMENSE QUANTITY OF ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE MATTER!"]

* * * * *

THE SHERIFFS' DINNERS AT NEWGATE.

The Sessions of the Central Criminal Court have lost much of their attraction--especially to a hungry Old Bailey Bar, some of whom are dreadfully open-mouthed--by the cutting down of the dinners usually given by the Sheriffs. It seems that the learned Judges have not as yet had any dinner at all in the City, but have been obliged to be satisfied with a rather substantial "lunch," by way of substitute. The two Sheriffs have been at loggerheads, and one of them--MR. WALLIS--has provided a meal to which he has invited only the Aldermen on the rota instead of the whole body; upon which SHERIFF WIRE fearing lest his brother Aldermen should starve, has started an opposition table. In the mean time the Judges have been making a meagre lunch with one Sheriff and dining with neither. There being, however, two lunches a day, and two opposition dinners, we should be glad to know how the worthy Chaplain of Newgate performs his elaborate duty of partaking of every meal, which he must necessarily do, in order to avoid giving offence to either of the opposition Sheriffs. The reverend ordinary will have the extraordinary task of disposing of two lunches and two dinners in four-and-twenty hours--an accomplishment that calls to mind the old familiar feat of the leg of mutton and trimmings.

The name of "ordinary" is most appropriately given to the worthy Chaplain, who by virtue of his office is present at the ordinary at one, the other ordinary at five, and again at the two extra-ordinaries occasioned by the division between the two Sheriffs. It appears that in the midst of all this superabundance the learned Judges, "huffed" at having received their invitations from one Sheriff instead of two, have preferred going dinnerless; wisely, however, hesitating to abandon themselves to hopeless hunger, they have to compromise with their dignity by condescending to "lunch" at the table of SHERIFF WALLIS.

We confess we should be glad to see the practice of Old Bailey dinners getting abandoned altogether, so that the old sarcasm as to "wretches hanging that Judges may dine," may for ever lose its traditional point, as it has long ago lost its practical application. There is something unpleasantly anomalous in the substitution of the table-napkin for the ermine before quitting the Court, and it is not a pleasant reflection, that the prisoners having been awarded their deserts, the Judges will, under the same roof, proceed to take their dinners.

* * * * *

THE JUDGES' CHAMBERS.

Oh such a row, such a rumpus and a bobbery,
Everything and every one quite in the dark;
No one knows the order of the Summonses,
Fixed to be heard by MR. BARON PARKE:
Tearing, swearing,
For dignity not caring,
Common lawyers, clerks of all sorts, down to office drudge.
Never was a rougher set of noisy individuals,
Hanging round the chamber doors to go before the Judge.

* * * * *

A FRENCH FEAST OF THE POETS.

BERANGER the poet is, we are told by the paragraph-mongers, continually receiving presents of jam from his enthusiastic countrymen. We regret to say that our own poets meet with no such sweets, and frequently pass a life of unmitigated bitters. Instead of presents of jam (now let the reader prepare to be knocked down by a fearful blow to his common sense)--we repeat--instead of presents of jam our poets too often meet with a gelid indifference--_jam_ and _gelid_; does the reader see what we are aiming at?

* * * * *

A FAIRY WISH.

Oh, that the million million million billions of seeds of corn rotting on the Danube were "corned" into gunpowder, and swallowed by NICHOLAS. Having no bowels, how could it hurt him?

* * * * *

PLATO'S REPUBLIC PERFECT.

The City's the Model Republic of PLATO,
As like as potato can be to potato,
Save in one point alone; and it would be a pity
If that difference did not distinguish the City.

In PLATO'S Republic, all good things combining,
That serve to the great ends of drinking and dining,
No Poet was suffered his metres to mingle
With the clatter of plates, and the wine glasses' jingle.

But London's good City a poet possesses
Who sings its high deeds and its glory expresses,
And graces its banquets, his brows bound with myrtle,
Sucking up inspiration together with turtle.

That Poet--whose aim is existence to sweeten--
Next day sings the praises of what he has eaten,
Which by wholesale are bought by the rich Corporation
As the fairest account of the jollification.

At eighty-five, Fleet Street, this son of APOLLO
Indites, each November, the Song of the Swallow;
His muse every bookseller's counter encumbers,
But his friends in the City buy up all his numbers.

* * * * *

HOW EUROPE MAY BE SAVED!

A recipe, from a Neapolitan pen, authorized by KING BOMBA, of Naples!

"Take the English people, strip 'em, rob 'em, kick 'em out of England, making of 'em--even as the Hebrews--dealers in hare-skins and old clothes! When this is done, take London, and turn it topsy-turvy, ruinous like Jerusalem! Let the English House of Commons sit by the waters of the Danube and weep; and let English Bishops sell maccaroni, and English merchants vend water-melons to the _Lazzaroni_ of Naples! Then Europe will be safe. When the House of Hanover is placed upon a cinder-heap of Mount Vesuvius, then may Europe, in the depths of her tranquillity, sweetly rejoice!"

And the KING OF NAPLES read the foregoing, and said "Let it be forthwith printed, and let BRITANNIA forthwith prepare herself to become a Jewess." Only to think--the British Lion a Lion of Judah! The White Horse of Hanover, a Jerusalem Pony!

* * * * *

NEW COMIC SONG TO BE SUNG AT THE CAVE OF HARMONY.

(_Respectfully dedicated to the author of "The Newcomes"._)

MR. PUNCH _sings_.

Our future Premier, laughing free, I've got my eye upon,
I think you'll all agree with me--his name is P-LM-RSTON.
And by his side sits sleepily a lord in Scotland bred;
I think you'll all agree with me--that he were best in bed.

_Chorus by the Nation._

O yes, we all agree with you that he were best in bed.

* * * * *

SOME LIGHTS THAT WANT SNUFFING OUT.

A new religious book is now being advertised under the illuminating title of "The Lamp and the Lantern, a Light for the Tent and the Traveller." If our Exeter Hall friends are in want of quaint titles, we beg leave to suggest "The Bull's Eye and the Dip," or "The PRICE and the PALMER," or "The Long Four and the Short Six," or "The Kitchen and the Composite."

* * * * *

WHAT IS MAN?

The _Quarterly_ makes answer,

"Chemically speaking, a man is 45 lbs. of carbon and nitrogen
diffused through 51/2 pailfuls of water."

This must be wrong. If no hemp, how do you get your Russian? If no wood, how do you get your Austrian? If no red-tape, how does Downing Street get her Englishmen?

* * * * *

A CON FROM THE SHAKSPEARIAN CLOWN.

_Q._ When _Othello_ killed _Desdemona_, was he thinking of his Wife?

_A._ No--his (s)Mother.

* * * * *

THE GREAT EASTERN QUESTION (_at all political dinners_). "Is there any Turkey left?"

* * * * *

CRUEL KING COAL over London town
Evermore year by year doth reign;
He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,
And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.

CRUEL KING COAL doth his greatness air
In a flaming coach of state reclined;
And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,
And the little boys run and shout behind.

How did it happen to this KING COAL
That he came to be called by the name of Cruel?
'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,
By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.

CRUEL KING COAL and his merry men,
Twenty and five fat rogues were they,
Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,
And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.

Measuring that which they never mete.
Making good losses themselves should stand,
And rebuilding here and there a street,
Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.

Even the load that a donkey draws,
These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,
Twenty miles around London Town; by laws
Through Parliament slipped by sly KING COAL.

Picking and filching, this cruel King
First on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;
Next upon such as canal did bring,
Then on those by QUEEN'S highway and rail conveyed.

Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,
He levied the tax in time gone by;
But the Commons his art contrived to blind,
And the distance is now as crow doth fly.

Drawback His Majesty granteth not
Twenty good tons on a weight below;
And the boiling of every humble pot
The old fellow doth render the dearer so.

CRUEL KING COAL doth feed and stuff,
Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;
Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,
Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.

CRUEL KING COAL shall we suffer more
To blow himself out by extortion dire?
Shall we let him continue to starve the poor
By the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?

* * * * *

MRS. JANE GIMLET TO MRS. JUDITH PUNCH.

"_Yeast Lain, Grinnidge, seckund November, hatingfiftethre._

"MEDDAM,

"Haskin parding for the libbaty hime takin, I opes u will use yer influenzer with yer husband, wich its wot hevery lorful marred oman ort to ave tho they do say he use u shameful in publick, but ave no dout he gets his clippins at ome, and get him to print my letter wich I here some vartuous pussons wants us to ave a day of fastin an hewmilliashun, as a purwentive to the collerher, tho my husban hoo is a plane man, in respek of bein a carpingter by trade, but can rede an rite, did see in the papers that the workin classes ort to ave a plane and modderit dyeit in these times. Now Meddam I ham a pore oman, with siks children an a husban not over strong on account of workin twelve hours a day on wun mele, an hime sure hever sins I leff REVEREND SLOCUM SMITH'S were I lived coke at fiften pund a yere, tee and shewgar fund an all parkisites, ceptin follerhers alloud, I ave never none wot it is to be without a happetite, wich if hany one thinks it a blessin, Ide giv em mine hany day and thankful too, for a lofe of bred. Likeaways would JON. Likeaways would our siks children, wich I ave ad twelve, but siks on em dide, as the doctor sed of my asthma, tho I carnt see ow that cood a been, as I never wos asmatic, but think their deths was caused by the bad hare in our place, and the smells, an bein nussed so low, an put to slepe on Daffy for twelve hours wen I wos out a charin at hateen pence a day an my kepe wich if u ever wants any charin done, I can ave the best of karacters. An its hall werry well for them as as their cup of tee an their butturd tostes bifor their hup in the mornin, an their cold shiken an briled bones at breakfast, and a bit o cake an a glass o jellee atween breakfast an lunch, an a lunch of ot mete and pertaties, wich it is called the children's dinner, but the parents jines in it, an a snack o suffin between lunch an dinner, just to kepe hoff the sinkin from their pore weke stommicks, an a dinner of thre coarses an a dissurt, an toste an muffins at tee, an maybe a little kneegus or sperrits at bed time to kepe it hall down, and then a crust o bred in their bed rooms lest they shood feel faint in the nite--hits werry well for them to fast, if they likes it, for they've plenty of food to fall bak on, and wood honely go to their wittles fresher nex day, like sum I wuns lived with but wonte name, as made hup in Heester for wot they didnt hete in Lent. But if we wos to fast, hose lives is little better than a perpetiwal fast, I donte think the hempty stummicks of our pore littel babes would ever cum to again. An has for hewmilliashun, if MISSUS REVEREND SLOCUM SMITH'S coold honely go hout a charin for a month, and be put upon by servants, (as I wos wuns the hequal hof,) an be snubbed by Missusses, an sumtimes ave her litel earnins stood hover from Saturday nite till Monday mornin, or longer wich it haint oncommon, an not a bit of bred in the house, nor nothin to spout, she wooldunt want no more humilliashun. An has for fastin bein a Christian hact, I no as JON an me an our siks children, have been a fastin hever so long an donte feel no better Christens for that, but quite the contrairy wich hany one as will try it long will find the same. So I do ope Meddam, that ure husban will tell them as wants to fast an thinks they'll be the better for it to give their soup or fluities (wotever they be) to hus as donte want to fast no more, and would be more in charity with hour speshus, if we wosn't halways so huncommon hungry. I ham with 'umbel dooty to ure husband, wich he looked as brisk as hever wen I see im last,

"Your hobedt. chare'oman,

"JANE GIMLET."

* * * * *

THE BOTTLE.

"I can assure you," says A. softly and persuasively, "there is not an entire headache in the whole bottle." "Not an entire headache perhaps," answers B., knowingly, "for all the headaches in it may be splitting ones."

* * * * *

A MORAL PHENOMENON.--A Barrister returning his Fee.

* * * * *

SCENE.--_A Tavern._

_Waiter._ "'AM, SIR? YESSIR? DON'T TAKE ANYTHING WITH YOUR 'AM, DO YOU, SIR?"

_Gentleman._ "YES, I DO; I TAKE THE LETTER H!" [_Waiter faints._]

* * * * *

PALMERSTON'S NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Since LORD PALMERSTON said, in his speech at Perth, that he was always happy to receive suggestions, and to read the correspondence that individuals might favour him with, he has been overwhelmed with letters upon all imaginable and unimaginable subjects. The consequence is he has been obliged to employ three additional secretaries, who are engaged night and day answering the stupid questions that are put to him. The following may be relied upon as a fair sample of the nonsensical inquiries he is favoured with:--

LATAKIA.--You are right. There is no doubt that there is a little
settlement to be found in all Ports--but this does not apply to the
Sublime Porte; for in spite of all the shaking and stirring it has
lately received, I cannot see the smallest hope of a settlement.

ROSA MATILDA.--You ask me, my young lady, what is the best ink for
writing love-letters with? I am sorry I cannot inform you, as it is
now many years ago, in consequence of the graver cares of office,
since I have abandoned the foolish practice.

THESPIS.--It is more than I can tell you what kind of BROOKE has
caused Drury Lane to overflow every night. I have not been to the
theatre this season, and so I cannot inform you whether the BROOKE
in question was deep, or merely a shallow BROOKE, or a roaring
BROOKE, or in fact what particular kind of BROOKE it was; but from
all the reports I have heard, some of which have been very loud, I
should hardly say it was "the murmuring BROOKE."

DEBRETT.--I cannot tell you LORD BROUGHAM'S habitual residence; but,
looking at his trousers, I should say it was generally on the other
side of the Tweed.

ONE WHO IS FOND OF DIGGING FOR ROOTS.--I should say, from your
foolish question, that the place where you dig most must be a garden
full of simples. How can I say whether "toggery" is derived from the
Latin word _toga_? Or whether CLYTEMNESTRA, when she was on the
point of stabbing her son, exclaimed "_Au Reste_?" Or whether a
cross-examination is so called, because it generally has the effect
of making a person "cross?" I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself
putting such insipid questions to one of HER MAJESTY'S Ministers.

A PUBLIC JOURNALIST.--LORD PALMERSTON is extremely sorry he cannot
give the name of the "Old Woman who lived in a shoe," and he doubts
very strongly in his own mind if any old woman ever chose such a
curious locality for a habitation. Perhaps--and this is merely
thrown out as a conjecture--it may refer to MRS. GAMP, of the
_Morning Herald_, and who lives in Shoe Lane; but then the song
should run, "There was an old woman, who lived in Shoe Lane," and
unfortunately it doesn't.

HORTICULTURALIST.--The apple of discord was doubtlessly, my dear, a
crab-apple; but it is beyond me to say whether VENUS, in accepting
it, was a naughty-culturist; but I can only say, from my own
experience, that it is not the first time by many that Paris has
been the cause of throwing the apple of discord--witness the Spanish
Marriage.

"ET TU QUOQUE."--It would ill become me, in my position, to offer
any opinion upon the conduct of a fellow-colleague, so you must
excuse me if I decline answering your inquiry whether LORD ABERDEEN
is not "the injudicious bottle-holder of the Porte." I should be
sorry to accept a compliment at the expense of a man whom I so
highly--but never mind the rest.

FIDDLE-DE-DEE.--I will write to LORD WESTMORELAND at the earliest
opportunity to inquire whether he is composing variations on the
tune of "_Pop Goes the Weasel_," but I doubt it extremely. Your
other question of whether a man who gives his mind to a violin can
be a clever ambassador, I decline answering.

"THAT'S THE WAY THE MONEY GOES."--You ask me--why I don't know--the
reason why "tin" should be the vulgar synonym for money. It defies
my powers of divination to tell you, unless it originated from the
fact of the purses which are thrown away upon the stage, and which
generally contain from ten thousand ducats to a hundred thousand
pounds, being always filled with pieces of _tin_. Hence probably the
synonym.

ONE WHO DABBLES IN INK.--I do not mind telling you in confidence
that LORD BROUGHAM is _not_ the Editor of the _Family Herald_.

A VICTIM TO THE EAST WIND.--The best plan, my dear young lady, for
keeping the chaps off your lips is to wear a respirator.

* * * * *

THE HIGH-METTLED RAZOR.

AIR--"_See the course throng'd with gazers, the sports are begun._"--C. DIBDIN.

Since of course we want razors when manhood's begun,
Lest profusion of beard should our faces o'errun,
A thousand strange methods are found every year,
And MECHI and RODGERS assail our young ear.
When we next, like a vain beau, direct that our crest,
Silver-mounted, should be on the handle impressed,
Scarcely scraping a hair in our downy estate,
The High-Mettled Razor first ranks among plate.

The next ten years turn out, and we need not now blush,
To be caught when we're soaping our beard with a brush;
For we _have_ one at length, and we need not say nay,
Should any one ask if we shave every day.
While alike born for scrapes in our life's daily course,
Always sure to come through with a cut, if not worse;
When we're barely shaved down just to what Fashion saith,
The High-Mettled Razor now bores us to death.

Grown rusty, used up, and turned dull as a spud,
Notched, blunted, and, always when used, drawing blood;
While, knowing his past deeds, his misdeeds we trace,
Tell, "this notch cut my finger, and this cut my face;"
And what dangers we've run, we could quickly count o'er,
As we wasted our time, and our temper, and gore;
When the shaving doth gall, and the steel our chins goad,
The High-Mettled Razor's put out of the road.

At length they've improved it, before 'tis top late,
And MECHI and RODGERS must bend to their fate,
And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,
If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.
For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,
In the very same chair in which we must sit too,
While a music-box plays like a musical elf,
The High-Mettled Razor doth _shave us itself_!

* * * * *

WHYS FOR THE WISE.

Why cannot a "Constant Reader" write a letter to a newspaper without an allusion to its "widely circulated columns?"

Why can a young gentleman never take to yachting without strengthening his language with "fo'ksle" expletives?

Why at a dinner party is it never thought permissible to call for cabbage except by its genteel synonym of "greens?"

Why does a cabman consider he degrades himself by acting civilly?

Why in a lodging-house can you never get your shaving-water without ringing twice for it?

Why do people with the smallest rooms invariably give the largest parties?

Why cannot musical critics speak of a voice without puzzling everybody by calling it an "organ?"

Why do fashionable people consider they lose _caste_ by writing legibly?

Why cannot a husband get home late from a dinner-party without assuring his wife he was "the first to leave?"

And why cannot a wife inflict a "charring-day" upon her husband without the additional torture of a cold leg of mutton?

* * * * *

GREAT THEATRICAL STRIKE.--A Combat of Six at the Victoria.

* * * * *

_The Ardent Lover_, CHING-BANG-BUNG, _at present residing among the island Barbarians, writes to the Star of his Brain_, LOLLUM SQUINNYI, _daughter of_ HANGO JOWDOB, _wealthy merchant of Tseen-ki, with a wart on his nose_.]

* * * * *

"MOONLIGHT ON THE WATERS OF MY SOUL,

"Adoring your silver slipper with its buckle of emeralds, profoundly respecting the gilded toad which lies before your cerulean door in the light of a scraper, nay, venerating the marble slab that forms the threshold of the house where lives the angelic daughter of HANGO JOWDOB with the wart on his nose, I send you this illuminated rescript. Honour it.

"Yesterday, O LOLLUM, was a festival among these barbarians, and the Chief Magistrate of their chief city went in procession to swear oaths, and to bid other judges to devour sea-tortoises with him. A scribe named _Punch_, and altogether the wisest and comeliest man I have ever seen (excepting HANGO JOWDOB, with the wart on his nose, who will probably read this) gave me a seat in his mansion, which overlooketh the highway. By CON-FU-ZEE, O LOLLUM, but these barbarians have something in them, after all. Their Chief Magistrate is a vendor of teas, and the array was got up to remind the spectators of the Flowery Land whence cometh the fragrant leaf; in short, it was a gorgeous advertisement of his profession.

"Wisely taking example from the wisest nation of earth, they have sought to liken their procession unto what they deem to be Chinese. Poor savages, they make sad blunders; but our religion teaches us to be charitable, and to pity rather than ridicule the benighted heathens, who have not a pagoda in their land, save a miserable one in some gardens they call Q. Yesterday they exhibited strange mockeries of our Chinese forms; but still the good will was there, and we will not mock them in return, but try to teach them better.

"There were shields with faces, as of moons and devils, and dragon-banners, with bells, and other imitations of us; but the artistic design and the classical execution were wanting, my LOLLUM. The Chief Magistrate himself rode in a carriage formed like a gigantic tea-pot; and before and behind him came standards, on which were emblazoned the prices of his goods. Two huge idols, worshipped by the Fathers of the City, with costly orgies, were borne along, with Chinese adornments; and numerous other devices reminded me of the land where dwelleth the lovely daughter of HANGO JOWDOB with the wart on his nose.

"They are all traders, these barbarians, and one of the ancestors of this Magistrate, whose name is SID-NEE, was a great layer of bricks, as I gather, for he is often spoken of, by public-house orators, as 'SID-NEE on the Scaffold.'

"LOLLUM of my Soul! Light breaking in at the Chink of my Heart! Violet of my Nostrils! Pickled Duck of my Affections! Water-lily floating on the waves of my Life! Whitest Egg in the Nest of my Brain! I worship your image, and I kiss the rice-paper which enfolds the eyelash you gave me at parting. When shall your eyes sparkle into mine, and set all the fireworks of my soul fizzing, and banging, and sparkling? Eleven millions of highly polished compliments to the respectable HANGO JOWDOB with the wart on his nose.

"Signed in England, the day after the Feast of the LORD SID-NEE, Mare of London.

"CHING-BANG-BUNG."

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR SHAVING THE LADIES.--Use plenty of soft soap--use it unsparingly to their faces--and it's wonderful how clean you'll shave them.--_A Linendraper's Assistant from Howellanjames._

* * * * *

MISTAKEN BENEVOLENCE.--Throwing Early Purl to Swine.

* * * * *

_Injured Female._ "IF YOU PLEASE, MISTER--I WANT TO GIVE MY WRETCH OF A 'USBAND IN CHARGE. HE'S ALWAYS A KNOCKING OF ME DOWN AND A STAMPIN' ON ME!"]

* * * * *

JUSTICE TO SCOTLAND.

AN UNPUBLISHED POEM BY BURNS.

(_Communicated by the Edinburgh Society for Promoting Civilization in England_)

O mickle yeuks the keckle doup,
An' a' unsicker girns the graith,
For wae and wae! the crowdies loup
O'er jouk an' hallan, braw an' baith.
Where ance the coggie hirpled fair,
And blithesome poortith toomed the loof,
There's nae a burnie giglet rare
But blaws in ilka jinking coof.

The routhie bield that gars the gear
Is gane where glint the pawky een,
And aye the stound is birkin lear
Where sconnered yowies wheeped yestreen.
The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaes
Nae mair the howdie bicker whangs,
Nor weanies in their wee bit claes
Glour light as lammies wi' their sangs.

Yet leeze me on my bonnie byke!
My drappie aiblins blinks the noo,
An' leesome luve has lapt the dyke
Forgatherin' just a wee bit fou.
And SCOTIA! while thy rantin' lunt
Is mirk and moop with gowans fine,
I'll stowlins pit my unco brunt,
An' cleek my duds for auld lang syne.

* * * * *

PAYING SHOT BEFORE BATTLE.

The _New Prussian Gazette_ of Berlin says:--

"Several Turkish and Wallachian merchants have arrived here to pay
their debts. This case several times occurred during the wars of
Turkey with a European power. Turks have come and paid their debts
at the risk of their lives in crossing through the enemy's camp."

When this paragraph was read upon 'Change, a melancholy, wan-looking man said with a sigh, "I don't wish any harm to Her Catholic Majesty's Ministers; but I do wish that, if only to relieve us of our bonds, certain Spaniards would, just for the occasion, become Mahometans." Certainly NARVAEZ in a fez would create a sensation in the City.

* * * * *

THE KING OF THE CITY.

Some new lights have been thrown on the position of the LORD MAYOR by the evidence given before the Corporation Commission which is now sitting. The LORD MAYOR seems to be a mixture of degradation and dignity--a species of civic Centaur--a kind of neither one thing nor the other, or rather a sort of both--a combination of the flunkey and the potentate, which it would be difficult to analyse. At the Mansion House dinner he is a Monarch, but at the Coronation banquet he is a Butler, in virtue of which menial occupation he takes a golden tankard home to clean, and then claiming it as a perquisite, he never brings it back again. Why the LORD MAYOR should appropriate a bit of the plate because he is acting as Butler, is as much a mystery to us, as it would be if the man we paid to wait when we give a dinner-party were to walk off with our best piece of plate--our sugar-tongs, which are real, all the rest being electro--under the paltry subterfuge of its being a "perquisite." We can only say that if the LORD MAYOR were to be stopped on his way from the Coronation banquet with the golden tankard in his pocket or under his arm, it would require nothing short of the production of the original charter, to satisfy the police that he had lawful possession of the property.

It appears also that the LORD MAYOR is a Privy Councillor, but is so completely cut in that capacity that he is never summoned to attend, and the probability is, that if his Lordship were to present himself for admission he would have the door shut in his face by the "proper officers." It is, however, inconvenient that those dignities should nominally attach to an individual who is not permitted to use them, and we can only compliment those who have held the office of LORD MAYOR, on their good sense in not bringing on an unseemly altercation with the royal porters and door-keepers, by attempting to "get in" when a Privy Council is sitting. There is no doubt that if "his Lordship" were to force a passage up into the Council Chamber, and attempt to take his seat at the Board, there would be a general cry of "turn him out" from the Cabinet Members. The absurdity of the situation is so apparent, and the incongruity of the LORD MAYOR at the Privy Council is so striking, that nobody can doubt the propriety of abolishing a nominal position, which only subjects its holder to ridicule.

The only real power that is still exercised by the LORD MAYOR is the right of shutting up Temple Bar when the Sovereign is expected; but since the side bar has been rented by a loyal hair-dresser, who would assuredly let the monarch through his shop--if any serious obstacle were to be offered by the civic authorities--it is high time that even this dim branch of the civic prerogative were lopped off by the axe of Improvement, that judicious woodsman, who spares nothing superfluous.

* * * * *

"REVENONS A NOS MOUTONS."

The French, in a great victory over the Arabs, "have captured 4,000 sheep." What will they do with these 4,000 prisoners of war? Will they drive them to market, and sell them for what they will fetch, or will they turn them into _gigots_ and _cotelettes?_ Will they preserve their fleeces as trophies, and hang them up in the Invalides? What will they do with the tallow? Will they melt it into candles, and send them as altar-offerings to the POPE to solicit his blessing on their Algerian campaigns? These questions are difficult to answer, and in the meantime the poor sheep, recollecting the deeds of BUGEAUD and PELISSIER, must tremble in their skins every time they see the steel of the Frenchmen. For ourselves, we believe the lives of the 4,000 sheep will be spared by the French, out of their noble anxiety to prove to Europe that warfare can be carried on in Algeria without butchery.

* * * * *

MUTE ELOQUENCE.

Somebody has brought out a collection of the "_Songs of Scotland without Words_." In order to render the thing completely agreeable, we would propose that the songs without words should be set to bagpipes without sound, and sung by performers without voices.

* * * * *

THE DEMON OF THE CUPBOARD.

Within the last few months mysterious noises have been repeatedly heard in the cupboards of HER MAJESTY'S subjects throughout the kingdom. These have been, in most instances, at first supposed to be occasioned by mice and rats, as they consisted in scrapings, scratchings, and knockings, such as are made by those animals. But in many cases wherein the noises were the most violent, cheese contained in the cupboard was found untouched; so that it was necessary to seek some other explanations of the acoustic phenomena.

The circumstances of table rapping obviously suggested that the sounds were caused by spirits; and several powerful mediums were consulted, independently, with respect to this point. The answers to all inquiries obtained through these channels agreed in the fact that the cupboards were haunted; and also coincided in the further information that the name of their obstreperous inhabitant was NICHOLAS.

This startling declaration apparently rendered the character of the author of the disturbances no longer doubtful, and was considered by serious clergymen a conclusive proof that they resulted from "Satanic Agency."

However, to subsequent interrogatories, as to whether the "NICHOLAS" who scratched in the cupboards was the same as that personage generally known as "Old Scratch," the reply was uniformly in the negative; and the cupboard-haunting NICHOLAS was described as not that old one but "the other."

Several defunct NICHOLASES were then named, and the question was put with regard to each in succession, whether he was the one alluded to; but in every case it was declared that the individual mentioned was not the scratching NICHOLAS.

At last--in a kind of jocose despair--was put the inquiry, whether the NICHOLAS was the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. When, to the amazement of all the hearers, the response distinctly rapped out was "Yes!"

A clue was thus obtained for ulterior investigation, by which it was elicited that the CZAR NICHOLAS was in the cupboards by force of his operation on the loaf, of which, by his nefarious proceedings, prompted by ambition, pride, and rapacity, he had raised the price to everybody in the nation. The knocking and scratching indicated rage and fury, combined with irritation and vexation on account of having got into a scrape.

The sort of ubiquity which seems involved in one individual vermin infesting so many cupboards at the same time, is declared to be a mystery, the solution of which is referred to the abstruser laws of mesmerism. By the assistance of the mediums we learn that NICHOLAS has remarkable faculties of a spiritual kind, which he partakes of as the limb participates in the nature of the parent body. Hence, indeed, he is adored as the deity of the Russians; just as his ancient namesake is "honoured for his burning throne."

Since the above particulars were communicated, it has been positively averred, by ladies venerable for their years and other persons of the soundest judgment as well as the highest respectability, that, on going to their cupboards late at night to cut a slice of bread and butter, they have been terrified by the miniature apparition of a gigantic figure with an inflated aspect, bestriding the loaf in a military uniform and a pair of jack-boots. So that now, in almost all families, when any strange noise is heard about the house, it is customary to refer the disturbance to the CZAR in the cupboard.

* * * * *

A BISHOP ON "THINGS SOLID."

THE BISHOP OF OXFORD AND OIL-CUM-HONEY made a beautiful speech at the Mansion House in favour of the ALBERT Memorial. Never did tongue talk more silverly for bronze. Nevertheless, there is a passage in the episcopal harangue--(let us not forget to observe, it is reported of the Bishop that in his guilelessness he is wholly unaware of the road from Oxford to Lambeth)--a passage relating to "things solid" that somewhat puzzles us. SAMUEL OF OXFORD observed (and MR. SAMUEL CARTER HALL, who, he said, "represented the artists," smiled and applauded the words) that--

"It is of the very nature of _things solid_ that, instead of being
borne along upon the surface of the stream of time, _they sink
gradually down_ beneath its waters; and, therefore, with regard to
this great fact--and _a great fact_ I hold it to have been--if any
memorial is to be raised at all, I think it should be raised while
yet the memory of its greatness holds its true place in the
impression of those by whom it was witnessed."

Because, if PRINCE ALBERT has not a monument in bronze to remind the short memory of human nature that there was once a Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, the recollection of that great fact, being a "thing solid," will gradually sink down into the waters of oblivion. Just as, doubtless, we should have forgotten Waterloo and its results, if certain ladies of England had not set up a statue of WELLINGTON acting ACHILLES in Hyde Park. Well, we have a notion that the best and most enduring monument to the memory of the fleeting Crystal Palace in the Park will be provided by the enduring glory, even at the present time, crowning Sydenham Hill.

We have the greatest admiration of the intellectual subtleties of the BISHOP OF OXFORD. Like an olive, his nature secretes its own oil. Nevertheless, we should have liked to hear other bishops upon "things solid." Where was the BISHOP OF LONDON? Is it possible that any churchman can speak upon better authority, from deeper experience of "things solid," than the teacher of Fulham? Why, then, was the chief power of illustrations of the "solids" of this life merely required of SAMUEL OF OXON? Moreover, PRINCE ALBERT is, it seems, to have the statue: and among the alto-reliefs will, doubtless, be CHALLIS reading his patent of baronetcy.

The thing is decided upon. So gentlemen, unbutton your pockets; and down with the pounds--the "things solid," if we mistake not, BISHOP OF OXFORD.

* * * * *

TWO PORTRAITS OF THE CZAR.

In the well-known _Letters from the Baltic_, NICHOLAS is thus drawn in pen and ink--

"His face is strictly Grecian--forehead and nose is one grand line;
the eyes finely lined, large, open, and blue, with a calmness, a
coldness, a freezing dignity, which can equally quell an
insurrection, daunt an assassin, or paralyse a petitioner: the mouth
regular, teeth fine, chin prominent, with dark moustache and small
whisker; but not a sympathy in his face. His mouth sometimes smiled,
his eyes never."

_Mr. Punch_, having studied the Czar in his works, is disposed to put forth another sketch; as thus--