Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

Oh, Father Mathew, why dost thou incline
Against all spirits thus to whine?
To preach against good liquor is a scandal.
Why to such rash conclusions jump—
To airy, dull, unsocial pump,
Why give a handle?
Water is very well—but then 'tis known,
That well is always better let alone.
Washing is water's only function,
Save when a little drop poured in-
to brandy, whisky, rum, or gin,
Makes glorious, grand junction.
Think, Father Mathew, how you interfere
With Christmas cheer;
How can we offer friends a welcome hearty,
Unto a cold December water party?
When strangers meet together once or twice,
Wine warms away the chill of cold decorum;
But who could ever hope to break the ice
Cold water would in winter's depth throw o'er 'em?
Who could strike up a joyous song
Upon a cup, however strong,
Of wishy-washy green souchong?
Believe me, Father Mathew, you are wrong!
It would indeed be useless labour,
With such a pledge as those you boast,
To try and pledge one's neighbour,
In a flat toast-and-water toast.
Who could with spirits light advance,
To join the dance,
When with teetotalism clogged,
His heels are water-logged?
They who conform to your teetotal wishes,
And satisfied can be,
With water breakfast, dinner, supper, tea,
I class among the oddest fishes.
No, Father Mathew, let us have our ale—
Water's quite out of the social pale.

FATHER MATHEW—An ice-man for a small party
]

POPULAR ERRORS.

Sandwich is _not_ famous for its Sandwiches.

Venetian blinds are _not_ imported from Venice.

The captain of a steamer, when at his post, is not a post-captain.

The sword of justice cannot be made sharp without the application of blunt.

It is an error to suppose that the stature of man is diminished, for the lengths men go to in the present day was never surpassed. The tallest men are to be found in Lankyshire.

Jerusalem artichokes do not come from Jerusalem. They are not called artichokes because any one who makes a hearty meal on them will run the chance of being choked.

It is a vulgar error that beer is turned sour by thunder. The fact is, that beer may be turned sour by lightning which does not know how to conduct itself.

Home-made articles are not always the best; and, indeed, when made at home, they are often so mysterious, that there is really no making them out.

A Returning Officer.
]

REPORT ON PUBLIC HEALTH.

From the returns founded on inquiries made by Mr. Jones of fourteen friends, whom he met in London during one afternoon, it was ascertained that, to the question, "How are you?" six replied "Pretty well," two were "Quite charming," four were "Very well," one was "Tolerable," and the remaining one "Bobbish." It seems that a state of bobbishness is one of vulgar health, and that the less genteel neighbourhoods, under the most favourable circumstances, are greatly conducive to it.

Relieving Officer.
]

Water is one of the first essentials to health, and, consequently, a rainy day ought to be a source of great salubrity. It is also a principal ingredient in the diet of paupers, no doubt on account of its sanatory properties. Water, in conjunction with ventilation, may be regarded as the safety-valve of disease; so that a walk in a pelting shower, with a hole or two in the hat and boots, ought to be prescribed as a preventive against the chance of illness.

Appealing against the Poor Rate.
]

Hair Hunting.
]

SEPTEMBER. [1844.

TREATING WITH CHINA.
DESPATCH FROM SIR HENRY POTTINGER.

TAKING advantage of my full powers to treat, I asked the Commissioner what he would like me to treat him to. He at first suggested beer; but from what I have seen of the Chinese, I fancied that they stood more in need of spirit than anything else; and as my instructions were to mix as much as possible with the Imperial authorities, I kept mixing brandy and water till past midnight, in company with Key-sing, who did ample justice to the grog that was placed before him. The effect of the liquor was such as to cause me to receive several friendly assurances in broken Chinese; and the Commissioner, I am sure, soon began to see doubly all the advantages I was endeavouring to point out to him. In a short time such was the spirit of harmony inspired by the grog, that a song was volunteered by Key-sing; but it is impossible to say what key Key-sing did sing it in. I was then called upon to favour them with a vocal effort; and as my instructions were to meet the wishes of the Chinese government as well as I could, I struck up, "Home, sweet home," a selection which, I trust, will meet the approbation of the Home Office. The treaty had not yet received the signature of Key-sing; and he seemed to be wavering,—leaning first on one side, and then on the other; but at length he fell with his face flat upon the treaty, which I believe was intended to show his great respect for it. Such was his emotion, that he was with difficulty raised; and his hand was at length guided by a mandarin, who had partaken less freely of the grog than the Chief Commissioner. Key-sing then left for his own abode, singing and dancing all the way home, and addressing every one he met, to whom he was, probably, explaining the advantages that China will derive from the happy union.

I am, &c., your Lordship's, &c.,
HENRY POTTINGER.

Humbugs of the Day
]

POLITICS ABROAD.

(_By the Foreign Correspondent of the "Comic Almanack."_)

The Spanish are, as you know, very nutty on their late revolution. Several provinces have pronounced; but as they all have a peculiar _patois_ of their own, it is difficult to catch their pronunciations. America is in a more settled, though certainly not in a more settling, state than it was some time ago. It has resorted freely to the old way of paying new debts, and in return for our specie, has sent us a species of whitewash, which is all that we can get as an equivalent. It is a glorious thing to see a whole nation throwing off its bonds; and the way in which America has released herself from the bonds she was under to her creditors, is a proof that she knows how to be free herself, and to make free with others. On the other side of the Channel, Young France finding it impossible to beard Old England, has taken to bearding itself; and the war-party show, by their chins at any rate, that they would be much improved by a good lathering. New South Wales, as you are by this time aware, is to have a representative assembly; but it is not yet decided what the legislative body is to consist of. It would perhaps be the fairest plan, that each of the prisons should send so many members to the Botany Bay parliament; but others think that each class of offenders should have its own representatives. Whether the Honourable Member for Newgate would sound better than the Gallant Representative of the Housebreaking Interests, is a question that may be decided hereafter; and it will be a very nice point, whether conviction shall be a necessary qualification for a seat in the legislature of New South Wales, or, whether the fact of having committed an offence, shall render a person eligible as a candidate. It will perhaps be difficult to draw the line where the elective franchise shall begin, but it is generally believed, that nothing under a pickpocket ought to be entitled to vote, though, whether the claimant to the suffrage must have been positively caught in the act, is a nicety on which I leave it to the lawyers to deliberate.

THE SINGING MOUSE.

'Tis thought a very wondrous thing,
That any mouse is known to sing;
But only keep your cat away,
And all your mice will learn to play.

OBSERVATIONS OF A NATURALIST.

The average quantity of vapour from below is always greater after a public meeting, at which patriotic speeches have been made.

As we advance towards the Pole, the wind rises; and, by a remarkable coincidence, it is easy for an elector to raise the wind as the day for going to the poll approaches.

In warm weather the dissolving power is greater; and the summer is generally chosen for dissolving Parliament.

Moisture ascending, forms clouds; and liquor which gets into the head causes a mist over the eyes; a fact that shows the analogy existing between all the operations of nature.

Bishop Berkeley has observed, that there are more levels in England than are generally to be found elsewhere. This notion accounts for the Bishop having published many things, in which he treated England as a country of flats.

About the 4th or 5th of February, it has been observed that the woodlark renews his note. Birds of passage do not always renew their notes on the 4th, but dishonour their bills very frequently.

It has been remarked, that in September evenings the reduction of temperature begins to be sensibly felt by those who expose themselves to it thinly clad. We cannot concur in the general observation that it is sensibly felt, for the more sensible thing would be to wrap oneself well up, and avoid altogether feeling it.

It was generally observed, that the summer of 1843 was one of the finest that has been known for many years. This may be easily accounted for by the non-opening of Vauxhall Gardens. Preparations had been made for the commencement of the season, and there was a week of incessant rain; but the idea being abandoned, the weather became fine, and continued so for the remainder of the summer.

Saturn is generally allowed to be a very inclement planet; and it may be seen directly over Clement's Inn during a portion of the year.

1844.] OCTOBER.

SIX RICHARDS IN THE FIELD.
A NEW ACTING SHAKSPEARE.

It is quite evident that Shakspeare, in its present state, is not suited to the capacity of the existing race of tragic actors. On the same principle that somebody is said to have gone to bed because the bed would not go to somebody, it seems advisable to bring Shakspeare down to the actors because the actors can't come up to Shakspeare.

It was once suggested that the play of "Hamlet," with the character of Hamlet omitted, might probably lose some of its effect in dramatic representation. If this theory is a good one, it follows, as a matter of course, that the play of "Richard the Third," with six Richards instead of one, must be six times as good as it is with only a single embodiment of that extraordinary character. That this is the opinion of modern tragedians is shown by their all requiring to perform the principal part in all tragedies: an arrangement that could only be carried out by multiplying the chief character in a piece by the number of individuals in a theatre who want to act it. Whether the negative capacities of three or four individual performers can make an affirmative capacity, is an experiment that might be tried, at all events. "Division of labour" is a very favourite project amongst speculators in the present day; and if Messrs. A., P., and V., are separately unequal to the effort of sustaining the weight of the crook-backed tyrant, why should not the tyrant be cut into three—some actors, by-the-bye, cut him all to pieces— so that each of the performers hinted at might bear a portion of the burden? Mr. A. might do the love scene with Lady Anne; Mr. P. might growl through the opening soliloquy; and Mr. V. might go to sleep throughout the dream: an achievement which the drowsiness of his style renders him fully equal to.

That the bard of Avon contemplated the possibility of something of the kind is shown by the expression he puts into the mouth of Richard himself, who, in making the well-known exclamation,

"Methinks I see six Richmonds in the field,"

may be supposed to have hinted at the possibility of there being six competitors for his own position—that of hero of the tragedy.

THE DOGS' BILL.

The goodness of Parliament all things surpasses;
Its kind fellow-feeling no pride ever clogs:
It has stooped to the representation of asses,
And during last Session it went to the dogs.

How kind of a conclave of Solons and Daniels,
Whose wisdom and greatness there's no one disputes,
To sympathize nobly with lap-dogs and spaniels,
And adopt as their own all the feelings of brutes!

But the dogs of the country are sore discontented,
The Bills to protect them should out have been thrown;
If the species canine is to be represented,
Why is it by London-bred puppies alone?

Theatrical managers also will feel it—
No dogs for performance they now can engage;
In town, by the act (if they do not repeal it),
No dog can be suffered to draw on the stage.

Dog Latin, doxology, reason dogmatic,
And physic, which oft to the dogs has been thrown,—
Are all these confined, by a plan systematic,
To the puppies residing in London alone?

Oh! can it be ever with reason pretended
That civilization's beneficent lights
Have not to the dogs in the country extended,
Which makes them unfit for political rights?

Oh! is there no ear in the House will be harking
To all the complaints which with justice are made?
Oh! where are the members of Houndsditch and Barking?
By them are the dogs of the country betrayed.

FACTS WORTH REMEMBERING.

IN JANUARY.—That on the 8th, fire insurance policies must be attended to; and that, although honesty is the best policy, it will not be available in case of fire.

IN FEBRUARY.—That, on the 7th, Dr. Maskelyne died; but as we do not know how to pronounce an opinion on this Maskelyne, it is better for us to remain neuter.

DOG-DAYS—Legislation going to the Dogs.
]

IN MARCH.—That the month is a stormy one at sea, causing leaks in ships; and that, on the 1st, being St. David's day, leeks are worn in the hat by Welshmen.

IN APRIL.—That the assessed-tax papers are delivered early in the month; and that not even the vainest of us is then disposed to overrate himself.

IN MAY.—That, on the 14th, vaccination was first used, in 1796; and that, while it saved many from being pitted with the smallpox, the invention itself may be pitted against any other.

JUNE.—That the sun is before the clock on the 7th, which may be remedied by putting the clock before the sun. _Mem._—It will do no good to place it before the fire.

JULY.—That the days decrease in the course of the month; and that on the 5th of July, 1830, Algiers lost a Dey altogether.

AUGUST.—That Napoleon was born on the 15th, and Andrew Marvel on the 16th, but that the former was really a greater marvel than the latter.

SEPTEMBER.—Your grapes will now begin to want looking after. If you do not bag them yourself, and your vine happens to be in an exposed situation, you may expect that some one will come and bag them for you.

OCTOBER.—That melons can only be raised in hot beds; and, of course, the hotter the bed the better the melons. Some fruit-gardeners recommend a layer of cinders; but red-hot ashes, enclosed in a warming-pan, will heat your bed quicker than anything. It is usual to cover the bed over with a frame, with panes of glass in it; a good thick counterpane would perhaps be more effective.

NOVEMBER.—That the 5th is Guy Fawkes' day, which is commemorative of an attempted blow up; and that the 9th is Lord Mayor's day, which is devoted to an annual blow out.

DECEMBER.—That the close of the year is the proper time to begin a system of keeping accounts, for you will have plenty of accounts sent in to enable you to commence keeping them.

Drawing an Audience,—Rogue-ation Sunday.
]

NOVEMBER. [1844.

NEW VERSION OF "ALL ROUND MY HAT."
AS SUNG NIGHTLY AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE.

All round my hat I hang a green willow,
All round my hat for a twelvemonth and a day;
And if anybody wants to know the reason that I do so,
It's because my ingenuity has all been thrown away.
'Twas taking my drives in the Park I first conceived it,
O, I thought the guard on duty in his hat looked a Guy;

(SPOKEN.)—Such a hat—like an old muff sewn up at one end of it!

And I never slept a wink, but in my mind I weaved it,
And thought my taste and fancy upon a hat I'd try.

(SPOKEN.)—Here's your fine infantry beavers, as light as gossamers,
and as waterproof as the washable!

All round my hat, &c.

Oh, my hat it was tall, and my hat it was round too,
And cruel was the public taste that did my hat condemn;
It's ugliness was sure the foe to confound too,
It frightened the public, and would have frightened them.

(SPOKEN.)—The horses of the cavalry on the other side would
have been sure to shy at it; and they would have got into such
a-rear that the riders never could have come on to the charge. But
now it's

All round my hat, &c.

For seven long weeks the Queen and I planned it,
For seven long weeks we turned it every way:
Bad luck to the public, they didn't understand it;
But I'll praise the hat for ever, although it's done away.

(SPOKEN.)—Here's your fine British lion grinning at the enemy as
if he would eat 'em up; but, alas! it's

All round my hat, &c.

There is some sort of men so preciously particular,
They wish to see the soldiers in soldier-like array;
But for the regulation, or for taste I'm no stickler,
I only want to see the men in colours bright and gay.

(SPOKEN.)—Do you want any hussar jackets? Wear 'em and try
'em before you buy 'em. But it's

All round my hat, &c.

Oh, I gave my son a hat on the day he was born on,
Which I gave him as a plaything all to remember me;
And when he grows up, his head it will be worn on,
For an infantry colonel he very soon will be.

(SPOKEN.)—Here's your fine full blooming annuals—cheap at any
price. Yes, that they are—but it's

All round my hat, &c.

Disturbed State of Wales.
]

ROYAL PANTOMIME.

The nation is most respectfully informed that arrangements have been made, on a most extensive scale, for the annual production of a new Pantomime, to be called

THE ROYAL TOUR;

OR, HARLEQUIN PRINCE ALBERT, AND THE SAILOR QUEEN
OF THE SEA-GIRT ISLE.

The Scenery entirely new, from Views taken on the spot, in England,
France, and Belgium.

The Tricks by Neptune and assistants.

The Changes—of air, climate, and place, by Messrs. North, South,
East, and West.

The whole under the immediate direction of the Lord
Chamberlain.

=Principal Characters:=

LANDLORD OF THE GALLIC COCK (afterwards Harlequin), Mons. LOUIS
PHILIPPE;

PRINCE FORTUNE (afterwards Lover), MONS. ALBERT:

FORTUNATUS (his Uncle), MONS. LEOPOLD (_From the Royal Cobourg_);

WHIRLIGIG, an Evil Genius (afterwards Clown), Herr BROUGHAM (_who
will introduce "Tippitywichit"_);

THE GOOD GENIUS (_afterwards_ Columbine), Madame VICTOIRE; Fiends of
Mischief, by Mons. THIERS, and numerous auxiliaries.

In the course of the Pantomime, the celebrated _Pas des Folies_, by
LA JEUNE FRANCE and YOUNG ENGLAND. The famous _Marche Diabolique_,
by Signor O'CONNELL (surnamed the Irish incredible); and the grand
_Pas de Fascination_, by Madame Victoire.

In the course of the Pantomime will be exhibited the following

NEW AND SPLENDID SCENERY:—

PLYMOUTH, WITH THE MAYOR IN THE DISTANCE,

And a bird's-eye View of the Corporation, as seen through a
telescope from the deck of the Royal Yacht.

A GRAND NAUTICAL PANORAMA,

With the arrival of the Royal Squadron at Treport.

CAVE OF REVOLUTIONARY DESPAIR,

And overthrow of the Great Dragon of War, and Grand Finale
in the REGIONS OF BLISSFULNESS,

with the

TRIUMPH OF THE GOOD GENIUS.

Change for a Sovereign—an Anticipated Pantomime.
]

1844.] DECEMBER.

An Arctic Circle.
]

THE POLAR EXPEDITION.

Candidly speaking, a voyage to the North Pole has many advantages. In the first place, the Polar bears are the finest in the world for bear's grease, and it makes the hair stand on end merely to look at them.

The North Pole is generally supposed to be a sort of sign-post, embedded in ice, in latitude 0° 0´, longitude x° x´; and it is popularly believed that Captain Ross not only cut his name on the pole itself, but nailed the English standard to the top of it. It has been contemplated by some who take an interest in these matters, to bring the North Pole to England, and place it in the Museum as a companion to Cleopatra's needle. Whether the passage to the North Pole will ever become a favourite with those who travel for mere pleasure is somewhat questionable, but there is no knowing what mercantile enterprise may do, and an expedition to obtain bear-skin coats—particularly if undertaken by such a house as Baring Brothers—would, if it only proved barely remunerative, say a great deal for British enterprise.

There is only one disadvantage attending a voyage to the Pole, which is the difficulty of getting there, to say nothing of the extreme improbability of getting safely back again. The forcing a passage to the Pole is a grand achievement. And as the road is frozen up before the expedition can return, it is always necessary to force another passage back again. Nature certainly seems to have written up "No Thoroughfare," and the pole itself appears to be inscribed with the words "No admittance except on business;" but this warning has no effect upon those enthusiasts who are determined to rush to the Pole at any sacrifice.

THE LEGAL ART-UNION.

Some doubt having been entertained as to the legality of Art-Unions, it has been determined to establish a legal Art-Union, by which the most expensive of known luxuries—law—can be dealt out to the subscribers upon most reasonable terms. The Union is to consist of as many persons as think proper to subscribe, and the object will be the bringing and defending actions, so that debtors and creditors will equally profit by it.

Every subscriber, on paying six-and-eightpence, will have a declaration delivered to him if he be a debtor; or if a creditor, he will receive a plea; and the prizes will consist of a certain number of verdicts, to be selected from the public exhibitions of justice, including the Courts of Request, the Lord Mayor's, and Sheriffs' Courts. If a plaintiff draws a prize, he will get the whole of the money; and if a debtor draws a blank, he will have to pay it; but if the debtor and the creditor both draw blanks, they neither of them get anything, but their loss is limited to six-and-eightpence. If a debtor obtains a fortunate number he is exonerated from his debt without the disgrace or inconvenience of running away; while a creditor, even if he does not get his money, is prevented from throwing any of the good after the bad, and thus all parties reap advantages which they could not obtain in the regular course of law. It is thought that the causing the verdicts to depend on chance, and thus introducing the lottery principle into the administration of justice, is quite in conformity with what, in nine cases out of ten, practically happens.

Prospectuses may be had at the chambers of Messrs. Drain, Swindle, and Company, Solicitors to the Court of Portugal, and Attorneys Extraordinary (most extraordinary!) to anyone employing them.

POST OFFICE REGULATIONS.

The letter-carriers are all to wear uniforms, in order to carry out the principle of the uniform postage. All the old Twopennies are placed on the same footing as Generals.

The mails, since the reduction of the rate, are allowed to travel slower than formerly. The Hounslow mail being carried in a cab, and, there being no accommodation for a guard, the Government will not be responsible for the safe conduct of the bags beyond the Sloane Street frontier. Letters for Kingston, not intended to go by Falmouth, should be marked Kingston-upon-Thames, or they will be despatched to Kingston in Jamaica.

Money intended to benefit the letter-carriers should be enclosed in an envelope addressed to any friend of the writer. By registering the letter, the liberal object will be defeated.

CATECHISM OF POLITICS FOR THE FRENCH.

_Q._ How do you define politics?

_A._ It is the science of constructing new governments; the first step to which is the destruction of the existing one.

_Q._ In what do we make it chiefly to consist?

_A._ In abusing our neighbours, and quarrelling amongst ourselves.

_Q._ To what do we generally apply ourselves in peace?

_A._ In insulting the English.

_Q._ How are we occupied in war?

_A._ In being beaten by the English.

_Q._ How do we profit by war?

_A._ It gives us material for clap-traps on the stage.

_Q._ How do we profit by defeat?

_A._ In calling it a victory.

_Q._ How do we maintain our boast that we are the most ingenious nation on the earth?

_A._ By employing the ingenuity of Englishmen in all our great public works.

POETICAL CALENDAR,
AND
CHRONOLOGY FOR THE YEAR 1843.

JANUARY.

This month its name distinctly traces
Unto the god that has two faces:
From which we fairly may assume
It should be sacred now to Brough'm.

5th. Further decline in the revenue; the decline being caused by a want of consumption.

26th. A million tons of chalk dislodged by gunpowder from the cliffs at Dover. The price of milk, nevertheless, remained as usual.

FEBRUARY.

From _Februa_ (meaning "pure") this month doth claim
To take its very classic Roman name.
Parliament's meeting in this month, I'm sure,
Is a mistake—What's that to do with "pure?"

15th. Intelligence received from Captain Ross, who had been to join a very select circle at the Antarctic.

21st. The trustees of a life-boat at North Shields fined ten shillings for bringing some clothes to shore; it being decided that such boats are not to be used to bring clothes to any one in possession of life, but only to prevent any one's life from being brought to a close.

24th. Great curling match at Eglinton Castle, which Lord Eglinton won by nine shots. The curling was not tried upon hare.

MARCH.

This month, called MARCH, from Mars, is full of bluster,
For Boreas doth his windy forces muster.
Mars and old Boreas give mutual shocks;
One sending equal blows, the other EQUI-KNOCKS.

1st. Dr. Candlish lectured at London Wall amidst great confusion. The congregation not being in a candle-ish humour, refused to be enlightened.

7th. Lord Teynham moved in the Lords for the abrogation of the clause in the Poor Law Bill separating man and wife. The motion was lost, several of the peers declaring the clause to be very beneficial to both parties.

25th. The Thames Tunnel opened, and the public let in; the privilege being no longer confined to the shareholders.

APRIL.

Whether this month to Flora or to Ceres
The Romans gave, admits of many queries.
_Aperio_ is "to open:" this suggestion
Proves 'twas intended for an open question:

1st. Public curiosity excited by the announcement of the invention of an Aerial Ship. It was predicted that the ship would fall to the ground; but it never rose high enough to allow of the prediction being verified.

12th. The Servian question settled by the Russian cabinet stipulating for a new sovereign. The old sovereign had not sufficient weight, being, probably, one of the light sovereigns that a proclamation had been previously directed against.

25th. The prizes of the Art-Union drawn at Drury Lane Theatre; and Her Majesty presented the nation on the same day with a prize—in the shape of another princess.

MAY.

MAY formerly was sacred to Apollo:
The ancients little thought of what would follow,—
That MAY—descending to the lowest deeps—
Should e'er by fate become the fête of sweeps!

1st. A molar tooth extracted from a person during mesmeric sleep. He retained his unconsciousness in spite of his teeth.

16th. The Greenwich peerage became extinct by the giving way of the stone structure. The slates on the roof remained firm to the last, and behaved like bricks.

25th. Sir Valentine Blake moved for leave to bring in a Bill to restore the Irish Parliament. The motion not being seconded, he took leave of his own accord, and withdrew.

JUNE.

Juno and JUNE so nearly are the same, One from the other must have got its name. The sign is Cancer, "crab:" and all admit That Juno's crabbed temper it would fit.

19th. The judges replied to the questions of the House of Lords on monomania, to the effect that partial insanity does not affect legal responsibility; which settled the question whether Lord Brougham could be considered legally responsible to the Birds, supposing they had brought an action against him.

30th. The Bill for the "Mutual Surrender of Criminals" read a second time in the House of Lords, but no allusion was made to the question, whether the English dramatists would be liable to be given up—as arrant thieves—to the French authorities.

JULY.

This month _Quintilis_, or "the fifth," was reckoned,
Till Julius Cæsar gave a first and second:
From which arrangement it at once appears
That Julius Cæsar has prolonged our years.

15th. Father Mathew arrived at Liverpool, and the tide rose unusually high, the water obtaining an extraordinary state of elevation.

23rd. O'Connell holds a repeal meeting at Tuam, and his exhortations on the subject of rent prove that he understands the interest of meum as well as that of _tuum_.

AUGUST.

Augustus Cæsar, seized by love of fame,
Gave to this seasonable month his name.
To Ceres it was dedicated: ergo,
Its sign zodiacal, of course, was Virgo.

28th. The Queen and Prince Albert embark on a marine excursion, and the sea puts on the smoothest face possible.

31st. The Agricultural Improvement Society meet at Belfast. Several members exhibited much ground for improvement.

SEPTEMBER.

From _septem_ "seven," and from _himber_, "shower."
Because SEPTEMBER pours with all its power,
The month derives its title, it is plain,
From the small fact that rain began its reign.

2nd. The Queen arrives at Tréport, and the King of Hanover leaves England. These auspicious events are hailed with much rejoicing.

5th. The Antarctic expedition arrives at Deal, having been four years abroad. Captain Ross had ascertained the fact that there is but one magnetic pole in the southern hemisphere—a result that was arrived at by applying an ordinary darning needle to the pole, which turned out not to be magnetic.

21st. Mr. O'Connor, of Inch, proposed that the repealers should pay rent no longer; but the policy of this not being a-pa-rent, the motion was negatived.

OCTOBER.

OCTOBER has its name from _octo_, "eight,"
Though 'tis the tenth p'rhaps 'tis as well to state.
Such sixes and such sevens the months were knocked to,
That ten became translated into _octo_.

4th. News arrived of the loss of the overland mail, and the persons expecting their correspondence left in a state of unlettered ignorance.

25th. Nomination of candidates for the City. Mr. Baring put up with Mr. Pattison; but the electors refusing to put up with Mr. Baring, put him down in Mr. Pattison's favour.

NOVEMBER.

Our Saxon fathers, be it understood,
Used in this month to kill and salt their food.
The modern practice is the other way,
Namely, to eat it all on Lord Mayor's Day.

9th. Alderman Magnay elected Mayor. _Magna est veritas._ Wood if he could.

DECEMBER.

This month, at last, time's annual circle fills,
But empties pockets with its Christmas bills!
The prickly holly every place adorns,
Showing that Christmas pleasures have their thorns.

THE OMNIBUS CONDUCTORS' LAMENT.

Such meddling sure was never known,
We wish we could be left alone;
Why could they not contented rest
With placing badges on our breast?
There's none that could with patience bear
His heart upon his sleeve to wear
But we are taken by the throats,
Made to unbosom on our coats;
And the conductors' badge must be
The badge of shameful slavery.
But now another act they've passed,
More cruel even than the last;
It says we shall not dare to race
But only go a certain pace.
Oh! have we not been always taught
That racing is a noble sport?
Unless with energy we drive,
Our horses can't be kept alive.
But Parliament goes on to say
We shall not loiter on the way
'Twixt one and t'other can we know
The rate at which we ought to go?
'Tis hard to say, 'twixt this and that
What Parliament is driving at.
And then—'tis quite beyond a joke,
We're even not allowed to smoke;
What right has Parliament to say
That fashion's laws we shan't obey?
They'll tell us next, 'tis like enough,
They will not have us up to snuff;
'Tis most unjust to treat us thus,
And be so busy with each bus!

THE
COMIC ALMANACK
FOR 1845.

A SHORT TREATISE ON TIDES.

The tides have baffled the ingenuity of some of our greatest philosophers, though Halley was more successful than any one else in his attempts to get to the bottom of them.

If we were disposed to go deeply into the tides, we should require the reader to follow us through a variety of mysterious hieroglyphics, which we are sure would be unintelligible to the majority. Dashes, crosses, circles, and triangles would be scattered over the perplexing page in profusion, while the only result might be, that as 0 is to a hyphen, so would be a couple of asterisks.

We, therefore, prefer leaving the study of the tides to those whose taste for the subject would lead them to a practical acquaintance with it, which may be picked up anywhere up or down the river.

THE ECLIPSES FOR 1845.

On the 6th of May there will be an eclipse of the sun; but whose son it is to be the almanack does not mention.

On the 24th of March there will be a total eclipse of the moon, only visible in London. A rabid leader will appear in the "_Nationale_," and the feelings of the editor will quite run away with him, on account of Paris being eclipsed on this occasion by _le perfide_ London.

On the 30th of October there will be a total eclipse of the Horse Guards' illuminated clock by a tremendous fog. This eclipse is expected to give such satisfaction, that it has already been announced for repetition on the following evening; but after the 31st the fog will be dropt.

On the 13th of November there will be a partial eclipse of the sun—that is to say, the eclipse will show its partiality by being only visible to those in a high station, who look up to it. It will first show itself to Primrose Hill about four seconds after eight, A.M. It will look in upon Professor Airy at the Greenwich Observatory about five minutes after nine.

There will be a number of eclipses in the political world next year; but we do not intend to throw any light upon them. No doubt Lord John Russell will do his best to eclipse Sir Robert Peel, and that eccentric planet, Brougham, will strive as much as he can to eclipse Campbell, and throw him completely into the shade.

TWELFTH NIGHT.
]

"TWELFTH-NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL."

Hail to the Twelfth-Night King! whose reign
Is short, but truly merry;
His ministers are cake, champagne,
Hot negus, port, and sherry.

His subjects are the young and gay.
Who their allegiance own;
Over the drawing-room is his sway—
An easy-chair his throne.

It once was very truly said,
By poet of renown;
Somewhat uneasy is the head
That's doomed to wear a crown.

The Twelfth-Night King is free from care,
No crown his ease can balk;
'Tis much too small for him to wear—
That little crown of chalk.

No cares of state before him rise,
No treaties, but a treat;
Sugar in every shape and guise,
Gives sweets unto his _suite_.

Hostilities he need not dread,
Like some in regal stations;
A Twelfth-Night King is at the head
Of friendliest relations.

FACTS THAT DO NOT COME WITHIN THE RECOLLECTION
OF THE OLDEST INHABITANT.

The invasion of England by the Prince de Joinville.
The liberty of the French press.
A ministry of one year's duration in Spain.
The presentation of the accounts of St. Stephen's, Walbrook.
A good engraving from the Art-Union.
A fine day in Glasgow.

HOROSCOPES MADE EASY TO THE MEANEST
CAPACITY

Of course every one knows that horoscopes are divisible into twelve classes, and that one of the twelve Signs of the Zodiac is at the head of each class. With this information any one with the aid of the following learned treatise will be able to cast his own nativity or that of any other person.

The first sign of the Zodiac is

LIBRA,

Which formerly belonged to a person of the name of Themis, but was taken from her for using false weights, and hung up, as a warning to tradesmen, among the constellations. Who at present holds them Lemprière omits to say. The Libra are uppermost in the Zodiac from the 22nd of September to the 21st of October; consequently, any one born during that period is put into the scales and weighed accordingly. Churchwardens who cannot balance their accounts, and Ramo Samees who can balance anything, are generally born under the sign of Libra. It favours also young ladies who hear from Joseph Ady, and are blest with a large balance at their bankers.

The second on the list is

SCORPIO,

Whose malice and sting come into play from the last-mentioned date, and penetrate everywhere up to the 21st November.

Sheriffs' officers, lawyers, stage-door keepers, and anthropophagi, are always born under this constellation.

SAGITTARIUS

Comes next. Old Chiron, the Nimrod of his day, dwells at this Sign of the Zodiac. He was put in possession of it by Jupiter for having taught Achilles how to pull the long-bow. He favours Derby sweeps and the Epping Hunt, but his patronage cannot be of much value to the latter, as his influence is only good from the 22nd of November to the 21st of December.

The _protégé_ of Sagittarius is generally fond of hunting the slipper and shooting the moon. He is known by his carpet bag, stuffed with bricks and straw. He sports a moustache, but never shows any tip.

The fourth sign is

CAPRICORNUS,

Who was originally Jupiter's wet-nurse. His lease of the Zodiac extends to the 21st of January, after which he is obliged to pull in his horns.

This constellation is noted for the number of stupid people who are born under it. They believe everything they see advertised, and put their trust in pills and Moses and Son. They are mostly called "Gents." They spend their money in Coal-holes, and smoke a kind of cabbage called "cheroot." They abound at promenade concerts, and on the tops of omnibuses and paddle-boxes on Sundays.

FLYING ARTILLERY.
]

Capricornus, when he has finished going the Circuit of the Zodiac, is succeeded by

AQUARIUS,

Or the Watering-pot. Aquarius is only allowed to _reign_ till the 21st of February. The former name of this Sign was Ganymede, who was taken up for sheep-stealing by an eagle, who was noted for being the first beak of his day. He was carried before Jupiter, who condemned him to pour out the nectar at a free-and-easy, of which he was chairman, in Olympus; but upon being detected mixing the grog of the gods, who always took their liquor neat, Ganymede was, in consequence of his foolish propensity to cold water, sentenced to take the _sobriquet_ of Aquarius, which, before the Flood, was the Latin for Father Mathew.

Aquarius is the patron Sign of Vauxhall, which he makes his residence during the summer months. Temperance and Teetotal people are born under his benignant favour. Doctors, too, are his children owing to their liberal use of _aqua pompaginis_. One half of the London milk is supplied to the metropolis by Aquarius.

PISCES

Makes up the half-dozen of the constellations. Fish in the Zodiac, it seems, comes into season about the 22nd of February, but will not keep after the 22nd of March. Very little is known about the private history of these strange Pisces; they are supposed to have been a couple of John Dorys, who, Neptune having advertised in "_Lloyd's List_" for a wife, introduced Amphitrite, a Wapping lady, to share his oyster-bed with him. Neptune in return, gave the Pisces the entire swim of the Zodiac, where, if Aquarius did not brandish his watering-pot right and left about him for a month before them, they would have nothing but currents of air and thorough drafts to swim in. This would have made them feel very much like fishes out of water. The Pisces look after picnics and ministerial white-bait dinners.

ARIES

Makes his triumphal entry into the circus of the Zodiac on the 20th of March, and keeps on the move till the 21st of April. He was the original proprietor of the Golden Fleece, but having, from his hasty temper, got into Chancery, he was fleeced, and then locked up for life in the Zodiac. He encourages the breed of April fools, and looks after Chancellors and lawyers that they may have abundance of clients.

TAURUS

Is the prototype of John Bull, who crossed the British Channel with a pair of corks, and, landing at Calais, carried off Europe, or Europa. Young France has often attempted to take this bull by the horns; but, as Old Moore quaintly expresses it, "Y^e puppyes aint yett buorn thatt can baitte y^e Johnn Bull." Taurus looks after the Spanish Legion and the Lumber Troop, and gives them their indomitable valour. Sir Robert Peel was born under this constellation, which accounts for his having offered his constituents at Tamworth a Bull. Taurus superintends the bulls that are kept in the Vatican at Rome; and all Irishmen who are born between the 22nd of April and 21st of May, are under his influence. Taurus frequently shows himself at fairs and market-days, when, if the weather is at all hot, he will toss any one for a cool hundred at heads or tails.

GEMINI

Are nine, though properly only two, in the order of Signs. Castor and Pollux are the twins alluded to. Their berth in the constellations they received from Jupiter, and very naturally too, as he was their father. Their mother was Leda, a regular Spartan, but no relation to the present member for Westminster. The saying of "What a shocking bad hat!" was first applied to Castor. Beggarwomen, who exhibit two children on a door step, very unlike one another, are relieved under the lucky star of the Twins. Castor and Pollux go on very well till the 21st of June, when, as it is longest day in the year, they generally get tired of one another's company, and do not come together again for a twelvemonth.

CANCER

Is a very bad Sign, indeed. It first attacked Hercules when he was attempting to come Van Amburgh over the Hydra. Hercules did not take the Cancer very much to heart, however; but, with one blow, packed him off to Heaven, where, there being a place vacant at the time in the Zodiac, the Cancer was sworn into it, and has filled it very creditably ever since. Cancer sometimes puts the seasons out of order, by thinking he is a crab, and walking accordingly, which is always the case when the summer is a little _backward_.

LEO

Is the next that comes upon the _tapis_ of the Zodiac. It is the same Leo whom Hercules got over in the forest of Ardennes, by means of animal magnetism, having thrown him into a state of _coma_, with a few passes of his club. This made the second candidate Hercules returned to the Zodiac Parliament. England (not the Young—but the Old) was born under the protection of the Lion, who, for this reason, is always called by orators the "British Lion," and painted on signboards, giving his paw to the British arms, in friendly confab with the British Unicorn. Mr. Carter, the greatest Lion tamer since Hercules, was born during this month; and young dandies and authors, who patronize tea-parties, are called "Lions."

VIRGO

Comes last. She rises every year on the 22nd of August, and goes to bed, in her golden palace of the East, on the 21st of September.

ODE TO LOVE.
WRITTEN ON ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.

Oh, Love! how potent is thy sway;
Thou'rt terrible indeed to most men!
But once a year there comes a day,
When thou tormentest chiefly postmen.

Oh, hard indeed the lot must be,
Of him who wears thy galling fetters!
But e'en more miserable he
Who must go round with all thy letters!

When at the door our vision greets
The postman, as he knocking stands;
The hearts of half-a-dozen streets,
Perchance he carries in his hands.

It seems a profanation quite,
That all the sentimental touches
Which lovers hit on when they write,
Should be within a postman's clutches.

Must the affections of the heart,
To trade with which no lover fancies,
Be then degraded to a part
Of England's national finances?

Must all that love has fondly said,
Freely, with no reserve to cramp it,
Require a little square Queen's head
To give it currency and stamp it?

Must sentiment extremely fine
Be down the area rudely cast;
The postman bawling, "Valentine!"
While in the act of going past?

But love will lay the highest low,
Make some, despairing, seek the river
To drown themselves; while many a beau
At sight of Cupid's dart will quiver.

SENTIMENTS FOR THE STAGE.

FOR A BRITISH TAR.

The lubber who would strike a lovely woman in distress is unworthy of the name of T. P. Cooke.

FOR A PRIMA DONNA.

Ah, Ferdinand! when treading the field of battle, when reaping laurels for thy noble brow; when in the hour of triumph or of revelry, thou art far from her who loves thee, still thou wilt think of Carolina, and madly recollect, "She wore a wreath of roses." _Sings_—

"She wore a wreath of roses."

FOR LORD COLLINGWOOD AT ASTLEY'S.

Go, tell Admiral Tomkins to spare no time in bringing the enemy's ships to surrender! Go, tell Ensign Sir Hildebrand Smith instantly to board the 90-gun frigate; and let the memorable words of our noble admiral ring with electric shouts through the entire British fleet, that "England expects every man this day will do his duty."

FOR A HEROINE OF DOMESTIC DRAMA.

Take thy gold, base lord, and know that the heart which truly loves, though beating in the humble breast of a housemaid, would sooner die on the rack of the Inquisition first, than wear the velvet robe of infamy. From my heart I spurn you.—[_Throws purse at his feet._]

FOR A GENEROUS BROKER.

Come dry up your tears, Missus; and as long as I have a crust, or a roof, in the house, you are welcome to share it with me—for the man who is not affected when a lovely woman cries is a heartless wretch, who deserves to walk through life branded with infamy.

FOR A CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN STEWARD.

Ah! that picture. It reminds me of a long-lost daughter. In moments of darkness it has smiled upon me, and seemed to say, "True happiness is in our own minds. It is not purchased by riches, or dependent on fraud. It is only acquired by virtue, but shrinks abashed from vice." Ah! the picture smiles again! The eyes beam on me—the nostrils dilate—the mouth speaks—everything counsels me to be good. Yes! I _will_ return my ill-begotten wealth, and henceforth strive to become that noblest work of Nature, an honest man.—[_Falls down before the picture and weeps._]

THE DAY AFTER—"St. Patrick's Day in the morning."
]

THE REASON FOR FUDDLING ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY,

I've often heard it asked by many,
Why on St. Patrick's Day
Poor Paddies will expend their only penny,
Moistening their thirsty clay:
There is no record that the saint was given
To that strong "dew," which smacks of earth—not heaven.
Yet, stop!
'Tis said, in a profane effusion
Of some old villain,
That Patrick's mother, to the Saint's confusion,
Kept in Inniskillin
A sheebeen shop;
But this I honestly believe's abuse,
Invented by some faithless boozing sinner,
Who wanted anything as an excuse
To take his fourteenth tumbler after dinner.
The saint I'm certain was a saint devout,
Drinking the purling stream quite "cold without;"
In fact he'd taken the teetotal pledge:
For what cared he for whisky, port, or sherries,
Who ate his hunk of bacon 'neath a hedge,
From which he plucked a poor dessert of berries?
Because
Red hips and haws
Are not like filberts, and their attendant salt,
Those strong provocatives to make men "malt."
The only cause that I could e'er discover,
Why on the anniversary of ST. PAT.
Your true Milesian will get half-seas-over
(And sometimes more than that),
Is—and the reason's simpler than you think it—
Whilst any man,
Like Kinahan,
Brews L L whisky—somebody must drink it.

LONDON IMPROVEMENTS.

Improvement, hail! Thy busy hand
To court or alley gives no quarter;
Against thee nothing now can stand:
Thou art too strong for bricks and mortar.

Before the parapets and tiles,
Houses and streets promiscuous fall;
Thou hast so altered old St. Giles,
Few now would know him, by St. Paul.

The gallant captains, Parry, Ross,
Each made the trial once or twice,
To take a desperate cut across
Some awful blocks of thick-ribbed ice.

"No thoroughfare," did nature cry,
So Ross and Parry homewards flew:
London Improvement doth defy
Each _cul de sac_, and cuts it through.

At parlour, factory, or shop,
At public entrance, private door,
Or window e'en, it does not stop,
But rudely pushes more and more.

Improvement, too, performs a task,
Worthy a scientific hand;
Turns sand into the sugar cask,
Thus into sugar turning sand.

OPENING OF THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.