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Northern Star (1837-1852), 6th September 1845, Edition 2 of 4, Page 3, PUNCH. Pam L. London; Punch Office, S2, ...

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      - Septembeb E, 1845. The Northern Star. ...

      - Septembeb e , 1845 . the Northern star . s '

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      Beauties Of Byron. Xo. Is. " Chilbe Habo...

      BEAUTIES OF BYRON . XO . IS . " CHILBE HABOUD . " The poet thus sings of the beauties and deformities Of lAJStTAJflA . * Oh , Christ ! it is a goodly sight to see "What Heaven bath done for this delicious land ! "What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree ! "What goodly prospects o ' er the hills expand * But man would mar them with an impious hand : And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge

      'Gainst those who most transgress his high command , With treble vengeance wiU his hot shafts urge GauTs locust Lost , and earth from fellcst foemen purga . -What beauties doth Lisboa t first unfold ! Tier image floating on that noble tide , ¦ Which poets vainly pave with sands of gold , llut now whereon a thousand keels did ride Of mighty strength , since Albion was allied , And to the Lnsians did Iter aid afford : A nation swoln with ignsrance and pride TVho lick vet loathe the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord . t

      Poor paifry slares ! yet born midst noblest scenes"Why , Saturc-, waste thy wonders oa such men ? lo , Cintra ' s | glorious Eden intervenes In variegated maze of mountain ! glen . Ah , me ! what hand can pencil fsuide , or pen , To follow half on which the eye dilates Through views more dazzling unto mortal ken Than those whereof such things the hard relates , "Who to the awe-struck world nnlock'd Elysium's gates The horrid crags , by toppling convent crown'd , The cork-trees hoar that clothe the shaggy steep , Themountain-nioss by scorching skies inibrown'd . The sunken glen , -whose sunless shrubs must weep , The tender azure of the unruffled deep , The orange tints that gild the greenest bough , The torrents that from cliff to valley leap , The vine on high , the willow branch below , Mir ' il in one mighty scene , with varied beauty glow .

      Then slowly climb the many-winding way , And frequent turn to linger as you go , Prom loftier rocks new loveliness surrey , And rest ye at "Oar Lady ' s house of woe ;" "Where frugal monks their little relics show , And sundry legends to the stranger tell : Here impious men have punish'd been , and lo ! Deep in yon cave Uonorius long did dwell , In hope to merit heaven by TnaWng earth a hell . And here and there , as up the crags you spring , Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path : Yet deem not these devotion ' s offering—These are memorials frail of murderous wrafh : Tor whereso ' er the sLiieking victim hath rour'd forth his blood beneath the assassin's knife , Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath ; And grove and glen with thousand such are rife Throughout this purple land , where law secures not life . ll

      Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay , "Where dwelt of yore the Luskin's luckless queen ; And church and court did mingle their array , And mass and revel were alternate seen I Lordlings and freres—ill-sorted fry I ween . But here the Babylonian whore hath built ^ 1 A dome , where flaunts she in such glorious sheen , That men forget the blood which she hath spilt , And bow the knee to Pomp that loves to varnish guilt . O ' er vales that teem with fruits , romantic hills , ( Oh , that sach hiUs upheld a free-born race !} Whereon to gaze the eye with jovailCC fills , Childe Harold wends through many a pleasant place , Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase , And marvel men should quit their easy chair , The toilsome way , and long , long league , to trace , Oh ! there is sweetness in the mountain air , And life , that bloated Ease can never hope to share .

      -* Lnsitania, The Ancient Name Of Portug...

      - * Lnsitania , the ancient name of Portugal . t The ancient name of tkecapital was Ulisipo , or Lispo - . hence the Portugese Lisboa , the French Lisbonne , and our Lisbon . + This was written daring the heat of the war with Sapolcon , in July . 1 S 09 . The village vtCimra , fifteen njilesfrom Lisbon , is perhaps the most delightful place in Europe—teeming with beauties natural and artificial—rocks , cataracts , precipices , gardens , palaces , convents , magnificent sea-view , ie ., « fcc a In ISt © assasanation was a common occurrence in the streets of Lisbon . Dyron himself had a narrowescape irmn the taiife . 5 "The extent of Mafra is prodigious—it contains a palace , convent , and most superb church . " Writing to his mother the poet says : — " About ten miles to the right of Cintra is the palace * of Mafra , the boast of Portugal , as it might be of any country , in point of magnificence without elegance- " There is a . convent annexed ; the Monks asked me if the English had ajiy books in their countvy ' . "

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      The Purgatory Of Suicides. A Prison Rhym...

      THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES . A Prison Rhyme , in Ten Books . By Thomas Cooper , the Chartist . London : J . How , 1-32 , Fleet-street . Our readers are already familiar -with the title of this work , from the repeated announcements which have apveared in this paper ; and , we doubt not , that their curiosity has been considerably excited as to the sort of work the Purgatory of Suicides -would prove to k . If Mr . Coofer ( who is not ashamed to own Lis pastconnexion with . the " gentle ciait" ) had announced himself as a maker of new fittings for our readers' understandings , such an announcement-would have caused no surprise ; and our readers would naturally hare anticipated that in advertising the products of his labour , Mr . Coopeb must have had some confidence in the worth of his -workmanship ; and although the making of substantial shoes by an aristocrat ( were such a thins possible ) would certainly

      excite some-wonder , the like work on the part of one of the useful class would create no surprise . On the other hand when one of that class conies before the world as a book-maker , it but scWom happens that Ms labour is justly appreciated by any class . The privileged classes refuse-to acknowledge , or even investigate the merits of the daring aspirer ; and the proletarians , educated in the accursed belief of the natural and necessary inferiority of their order , smile incredulously when told that John Smith , the weaver , or Robert Brown , the shoemaker , has written a book which the parson of the parish could not have -written . That Smith could weave good cloth , and Brown make good shoes , they can believe ; but that either could write philosophy or poetry by the volume they think all but impossible . They have been educated to deem themselves ihe "interior order" and despite the examples of PHSBand Ebbss and a host of others , custom chains them to tbe slavish belief .

      __ Of course tins does not apply to all of the proletarian class . The Democratic party—the advanced guard of tbat class—have learned a different doctrine , and that doctrine daily gathers converts . Still , if any of our readers have been somewhat incredulous as to Mr . Coor-at ' s poetical talents , they may be excused . Poets are not made every day . It is , we fancy , no very difficult task to string together a few verses not very faulty in rhyme , and not absolutely outrageous asregardssensc , audthusconstituteone'sselfa"poet ;" and of such "poets" there is in oar day no lack . It

      is , however , a very different thing to produce a work hkc -Mr . GoorEtt ' s " Prison llhyme . " comprising well on to a thousand stanzas . Such a work , if well executed , if bearing the genuine poetical stamp , is a great work , and , sooner or later , its author must reap his great reward . siiouldanyofourreadcrshavccntertainedmisgivings 118 to Mr . Ooorans poetical talents , wc roust confess t 0 having shared those misgivings . To essay to trad the path of Spacer and Brno * was a bold attem pt . Mr . Coopee has , however , essayed to do so—it remains to be seen with -what success .

      we shall not nw offer an opinion as to the merits « Mr . Coopeh ' s poem , for a very good reason , — as jet wc have read only a very small portion of it . » e read all books before we review them . In winch , we believe , we differ from some of our brotherc " tusf , f the press , who review without reading at ? " jNorcorcr , we propose to extract pretty freely im \ t ™ ' mitu " * aKo * ' readersan ° PP ° ri » nux , to some extent , of judging for themselves . Uuropjuraa of thewwk as a whole we shall defer wnil wc have concluded our intended extracts . » e commence bv extracting the entire of the & % ? « f « IoH « l upon to do this both in ISrf ^ i . % Ct , 01 ' ' as a Chartist , and more larucuiam i „ just ] eeto 1 ] jat UBjustJv expatriated Zi ^ m \ mtm WlLU ^ Eu * The generous ^ nUaicnts of Mr . Cooke will , we trust , help " « arouse public svnmathv in behalf of that atnot

      - s . amijy ,- _ at this moment in urgent need ev * r * f ? patI 9 ' iu a Practical shape—and also to "ill , "" I * SBwral demand for simple justice which re sult m , at least , shortening thedurationof poor * - ! xi * s misery . r . ^ follon % 'Troon Jlhyme , "—part of an historical sHi . j e n !^ ~ : v se " fc-f sSm r talcs . —and a small Hebrew «« tifin ~" Wfire tl , e fnx ' ' 0 I two years and eleven weeks ' a ik J *!* in Stafford Gaol . The first idea « f creating anors ^ k ^ the spirits of suicides suould be the hvn a jj 0 ^ ^ nverstrs , arose in my mind ten years ago;—hajjri S m ' o ht never have been composed except for my ana tne strife which

      beea ^™^— political in I have ** ra » a « t pontical strife in which l have fflT QiO uO . lKlS ceTIn " , n 1 v Si "" 1 » fora and colour to t qitioiis i wMdl ^ « " > Mnot have worn had my con-• halr . ] , , n "alisedat an earlier prriod . An indivi-^ ratr-L ^ * , tt * lasland wielded tteairftill three and ** atq ' - Sfro cSMn » . amids : wer . k health and deprivation , ^ ce nT * /? " " S « f languages , —and whose csperi-^ 'W'nj ofa i w , s ' fim - Uaiitc ' 1 t 0 the lmmble "Maborio - Col " ,:, 5 ttr ' and «< - ' « enlarged beyond that ^ strutted / 1 i - " nens ,,: ipcr » cou , tl scarcel J uavc i J « iiSil Vp a'a' * , 1 C 0 ITe > seeinu'javjng more than a few , 3 ' ^ t of a ^ . ' . ! n , cs - r ' ? P--secutors have , at least , the t ^ . p .-u =, lsil "i' to give a wore robust character to iny . - ,: . —thiaili I m „ cr „ ^— ,, ., . ...... 'Sil uicninoioveiorti

      - an < i l , u , u , y owe . e ^^^ afe ,. - i ° asouy J « " ' '¦«« < l from neuxtdgia , ^'' ''< db- ' ^ " l kaoiv Ilu £ what other toraier . ts , —oci ! ! . " ^^ rJ V , i ,- ^ ^ ' :: in , l sl ^ aji-tll , :::: dcd io the generally - ^ nacurss cfiram-isoanrent

      The Purgatory Of Suicides. A Prison Rhym...

      I have not the slightest wish to enlarge on the circumstances of suffering under which my verses have been strung together : and onl y deprecate that severity of criticism which a c ? iartist rhymer must expect to encounter—by observing that I am painfully conscious my book contains many passages correspondingly feeble with the debilitated state in which I often strove to urge on the completion of my design . Por reasons that involve the fate of others , as well as my own , I cannot omit to add a few remarks in this preface relative to the causes of our imprisonment .

      The first six stanzas of thcfollowing poem may be considered as embodying a speech I delivered to the Colliers on strike , in the Staffordshire Potteries ^ on the lath of August , 1 S 42 . Without either purposing , aiding anil abetting , or even knowing of an outbreak till it had occurred , —I regret to add that my address was followed by the demolition and burning of several houses , and blether acts of violence . I , and others , were apprehended and tried . My first trial was for the most falsely alleged crime of burning and demolishing , or assisting to burn and demolish . Sir Wm . Pollen , — -then Solicitor-General , —used every endeavour to procure a conviction . I pleaded my own cause , —a number of respsctable working-men proved rny alibi , —and Judge Tindal intimated bis conviction that the evidence did not prove I was guilty . The jury returned a vecdfct in my favour , —an 1 I was thus saved from transportation , —perhaps for the term of my natural life , but was remanded for trial on two other indictments .

      In a few minutes I met melancholy proof of the extreme peril in which 1 had just been placed ; for , on being taken back to the dungeon beneath the Court-House—a filthy , stifling cell to which prisoners are brought from the gaol on the day of trial , and which , in ihe language of the degraded beings who usually occupy it , is called' the gloryhole '—I found William Ellis walking about the room , and on taking bis hand and speaking to him for the first time in my life , J learned that fie had just been sentenced to twenty-one years' transportation for a hkc alleged offence to that for which I had been tried and acquitted . Yet he assured me , in the most solemn manner , that he was utterl y innocent , and was asleep iuhis bed at Burslcm at the time it had been sworn he was on the seme of the fire at llanley . The aged woman with whom he and his

      wife lodged made oath to the truth of this ; but in spite of corroborative proofs of his innocence , —he was convicted on the strange testimony of one man , whosaid tliatlie first saw a tall figure with its hack towards him , at the fires;—thathe then , for a few moments , saw . tbe side face , blacked , of this figure;—and that he could swear it was JGUis ! On the false evidence of tills man alone , has poor Ellis been banished from his country , —leaving his wife aud children to the bitterest contumely and insult from his enemies . Yet—he had committed a crime—audit was so indelibly chronicled in the memories of the Staffordshire magnates that the governor of Stafford Gaol reminded hiui of it as soon as he has brought to prison —lie had been guilty of an act of discourtesy to the Lord Lieutenant of the county ! At a county meeting called

      to congratulate the Queen on the birth of the Prince ol Wales , Ellis , at the head of the Chartists of the Potteries and the democratic shoemakers of Stafford , opposed the grandee when named as president of the meeting , succeeded in getting a working-man into the chair by an overirhelming show of hands , and the intended " congratulation" ended in naught . Such was poor Ellis's real crimi . Did it deserve twenty-one years' transportation ? Let his bitterest enemies answer , —for even ihey are now professing : tiieir belief tbat Ellis was not at the fires . I am , then , nottliakeiviestsufferer by false accusation ; —yet I feel 1 have great cause to complain of the crookedness of their procedures on the part of our prosecutors ;

      and , though it may subject me to a sneer for squeamish taste , I cannot help observing that I could havesubmitted to imprisonment without giving tbeiawyers much trouble if the proceedings against myself and others had been less crooked . When tkethird indictmeiitag-. unstmewasrend , —for " sedition " simply , —I told the Judge that I would at once plead * ' guilty , " and give the court no further trouble , if he would , as a lawyer , assure me that it ir « s sedition to advise mento " cease labour until the People ' s Charter became the law of the land , "—for that I had so advised the Colliers in the rotteries , axd would not deny it ; but Sir Nicholas Tindal said he could not assure me that it was sedition !

      After being at liberty some time , on bail , I was tried before Judge Erskine , for a " seditous conspiracy" with William Ellis , John Richards , and Joseph Capper . Again , I felt discontent at the crookedness of ihe law or custom that rendered it possible for me to stand indicted for a conspiracy with the poor exile , whom I had never seen nor communicated with in my life till wehecame prisoners . My discontent rose to stern resolve , however , as soon as 1 found , hy the opening speech of counsel , that it was intended , — -by what I considered most villanous unfairness , —to revive all'the old charges of" aiding to burn and demolish" in this second trial , —although under an indictment for conspiracy only . Aly Judge acted worthily for oue who bears the honoured name of Erskine , and allowed me all the fair-play an Englishman could desire wlio had to plead his own cause , without lawyer or counsel , against four regular gownsmen with horse-hair wigs . The struggle lasted ten days ; and the county papers made testy complaints of " the insolent daring of a Chartist ,

      who had thrown the whole county , business of Staftbrdshire , andShropshire , ant Herefordshire into disorder ;" but they were , of course , quite blind to the mean-spirited injustice which had girt me to fight against it . AVewere found "guilty , " as a matter of course ; but the resultwas to we a victory : for I so completely succeeded in laying bare the falsehood of the witnesses who affirmed 1 had been seen in the immediate neighbourhood of thefires , that the jury toldtbejudge they did not'wish to have that part of his lordship's notes read to them which contained the evidence of the said witnesses , but preferred that his lordship should write " mistake" thereon instead . Jfy . agcd friend John Richards , and myself , were called up for judgment in the Court of Queen ' s Beach some weeks after ; and Lord Denmun , Sir John Patteson , and Sir John Williams theic read out the word " mistake , " as inserted in Judge Erskine ' s notes ; and thus openly proclaimed the fact that my enemies had fulled in their attempt to fix the brand of felony upon me .

      I make no doubt but tbat many will be disposed still to think and say , that however far I might be from intending to excite to violence , since violence followed my address , it is but just that 1 have sufiered for it . I beg to say , however , that I hold a very contrary opinion . If an Englishman excites his wronged fellow-countrymen to a hgal and constitutional course , ( and Lord Chief Justice Tindal told tlie Stafford jury that now the old Combination Act was abolished , it was perfectly legal and constitutional for men to agree to cease labour until the People ' s Charter became law , } it surely is not the person who so excites them that ought to be held responsible for the violence they may commit m : de . r an enraged sense of wrong , but the Government iclio urongs them . I appeal to Englishmen of all shades of politics whether this is not the judgmcct we pass on all the / wtmiate revolutions ' that have occurred in our history .

      Yet Sir William Follett , who again used bis decaying strength , the hour before judgment was passed upon us in tbe Lcncli , pointed to mu with an austere look , and said , "This man is tbe chief author of the violence that occurred ; and I conjure your lordships to pass a severe sentence on the prisoner Cooper . " Scarcely three years have passed , and the great lawyer is no more . He wronged me ; hut I think of him with no vindictive feeling , for my imprisonment has opened to me a nobler source of satisfaction than he could ever derive from all his honours . Be amassed wealth ; hut the Times , alluding to the "frequent unhappy disappointments " occasioned by Sir "William Follett ' s non-attendance on cases he undertook to plead , says— "So often did they occur , that solicitors and clients , in the agony of disaster and defeat , were in the habit of saying that Sir William often took briefs when he must have known that he

      could not attend in court : and as barristers never return fees , the suitor sometimes found that he lost his money and missed his advocate at a moment when he could badly spare either . " I am poor , and have been plunged into more than two hundred pounds' debt by the persecution of my enemies ; but I have tbe consolation to know that my course was dictated by heartfelt zeal to relieve the sufterings and oppress !' ks . of my fellow-men . He was entombed with pomp , and a host of titljd great ones , of every shade of party , attended the laying of his clay ill the jrave ; and they purpose now to erect a monument to his memory . Let them build it : the self-educated shoemaker has also reared his ; and , despite its imperfections , he has a calm confidence that , though the product of poverty , and suffering , and wrong , it will outlast the posthumous stone-block that may be erected to perpetuate the memory of the titled lawyer . The following arc the first eight stanzes of the poem , all we can find room for this week : —

      Slaves , toil no more!—Why delve , and moil , andpiue , To glut tbe tyrant-fin g ? rs of your chain ? ¦ ' Slaves , toil no more 1 Up , from tlie midnight mine , Summon your swarthy thousands to the plain ;—Beneath tlie bright suu marshalled , swell the strain Of Liberty!—and , while the Jordliiigs view Your banded hosts , with stricken heart and brain , — Shout , as one man , — " Toil we no more renew , . Until the ifany cease their slavery to the Few I " " We'll crouch , and toil , and weave , no more—to weep !" Exclaim your brothers from the weary loom : — Yea , now , they swear , with one resolve , dread , deep" Well toil no more—to win a pauper ' s doom ! And , while the millions swear , . fell Famine's gloom Spreads from their haggard faces , like a cloud Big with thefear and darkness of tlie tomb ; How , * neath its terrors , are the tyrants bowed . ' Slaves , toil no more—to starve!—Go forth , and tame the Proud !"

      And why not tamo them all ?—Of more than clay Do your high lords proclaim themselves ?—Of blood Illustrious boast they ?—or , that reason ' s ray liearas from the brows of Hollo ' s robber-brood More brightly than from yours i Let them make good Their vaunt of nobleness—or now co . ifess The majesty of all ! liaise ye the fend—Not , like their sires , to murder and possess;—But for unbounded power to gladden and to bless . What say ye , —that the priests proclaim content , So taught their Master , —who the hungry fed As well as taught , —who wept with men , —and bent , In gentleness and love , o ' er bier and bed \\ here wretchedness was found , until it fled ? Kebuked He not the false ones , till his zeal Trew down their hellish iagc upon his head ?—/ ind who , that yearns for world-spread human weal , Do h not , ere long , the we ^ ht of priesily vengeance feci -

      The Purgatory Of Suicides. A Prison Rhym...

      Away !—the howl of wolves in sheep ' s disguiso-Wiiy . suffer ye to fill your ears ?—their pride ' ' ' Why sutfer ye to stalk before your eyes 1 Behold , in pomp , the purple prelate ride , — And , on the beggar by his chariot ' s side Frown sullenl y . —although in rags and shame His brother cries for food ! Up , swell the tide Of retribution , till ye end the game Lo : » g practised by sleek priests in old Religion ' s name Slaves , toil no more I—Despite their boast , ev ' n kings Must cease to sit in pride , —without your toil : Spite of their sanctity , —the surplieed things Who , through all time , have thirsted to embroil Man with his neighbour , and pollute the soil Of holiest mother Earth , with brother ' s gore , — Join but to fold your hands , and ye will foil To utter helplessness , —yea , to UuV core Strike their pale craft with paler death!—Slaves , toil no more !

      Tor that tllOSO words of truth I boldly spake To Labour's children in their agony Ot want and insult , —and , like men awake After drugg'd slumbers , they did wildly llco To do they knew not what , —until , with glee , The cellar of a christian priest they found , And with its poison fired their misery To mad revenge , —swift hurling to tlie ground And flames—bed , cassock , wine-cups of the tipplei gowned : For that I boldly spake these words of truth . And the starved multitude , —to fury wrought 13 y sense of injury , and void of ruth , — Hushed forth to deeds of recklessness , —but nought Achieved of freedom , —since , nor plan , nor thought Their might directed : for this treason foul 'Gainst evil tyrants , I was hither brought A captive , —^ mid the vain derisive howl Of some who thought tho iron now should pierce my soul . ( To be continued ) .

      Punch. Pam L. London; Punch Office, S2, ...

      PUNCH . Pam L . London ; Punch Office , S 2 , Fleet-street . The extracts that have appeared in our columns , during the last month , from the pages of our everfacetious , aud right well beloved brother ,. Punch , leave us but little room to say aught in the way of commendation of the part before us . Tho inimitable Caudle LccttU'Cseontinue as racy and as provocative ol mirth as ever . Amongst the humbugs of the day , Punch has not forgotten that prince of charlatans , King Dan , whom he thus apostrophises ;—

      TOO TALL BY A HEAD . Mr . Daniel O'Conncll , —Pray , sir , are you aware that you are a head taller than you have any right to be ? In the year 1813 you were pleased to promise that you would achieve repeal'within six months , or chic "Jay your , head upon the block . " Since then eighteen months have elapsed , whilst neither has the empire been dismembered , nor yourself decapitated . There you go , sir , ' with your head on , in defiance of all that is trustworthy . You have thus disappointed Great Britain on the one hand , and Ireland on the other . It is to be hoped that you keep your temperance pledge better than you have kept your pledge to intemperance . . You still walk and talk likevery like—one Lord Lovat ; whereas you ought to boar yourself , and your head , like St . Denis . Your head must be more brazen than Friar Bacon ' s to

      remain where it is > True , is has diminished somewhat of late ; but no thanks to you for that . Ilide your diminished head , if you will ; keep it instead of your word : otherwise , will you nill you , I will have it taken it oft " myself . I have an artist who wiU execute you at a moment's warrant ; and if you had : teu thousand heads I should have as many blocks to bring them to . PuNcn . P . S . The nation is open to a compromise with you . If you wish to keep your head , would you object to parting with your tail ?

      The illustrations are hardly so good this month ; but , if never worse , wc shall have hut little cause lor grumbling . We again ' recommend this excellent publication to all who love wit and wisdom .

      George Cruikshank's Table-Bo0kseptember....

      GEORGE CRUIKSHANK'S TABLE-BO 0 KSeptember . London : Punch Office , 92 , Mectstreet . This , as regards Its literary matter , is by far a bettor number than usual . "A Mouthful of Fresh Air" is a capital quiz at fresh water sailors , and is capitally illustrated . That excellent burlesque , "A Legend of the Ithinei" is continued to the great amusement of the reader . The continuation of the articles on " Social Zoology" is also good , and "Songs of the Sentiments" passable . "Oi'dtvs ' for the Play" is one of the best things in the number , and although a caricature , contains too much of truth at bottom . The writer professes to be tbe Editor oi a Sunday newspaper , and thus inveighs against the " editorial nuisance" of " orders "• - —

      1 need not tell you an "Order" is the privilege a newspaper enjoys of sending to any theatre , or exhibition , a piece of paper , which admits the bearer free of expense . It generally franks two persons . An Editor , as you know , has the power of exercising this privilege regularly once a day . # # * I never had the patience to count the number of theatres and exhibitions that are open in Loudon , but including tlic dioramas , industrious cockchafers , infant Grimaldis , and the sixpenny theatres in the suburbs , there cannot be one less , I am sure , than oue hundred . This makes One hundred orders the Editor has the power of disposing' of every day . Hence arises his greatest misery .

      These one hundred orders are sure to bring two hundred letters ;—to say nothing of the hundred persons whs call on the Editor at all hours of the day : no matter whether he is in the agonies of composition or not . 1 myself am ricver . free from these applications , * - . # # I cannot move out , or enter a room , but I am driven into a corner for an order ; * # * ' I cannot buy a pair of gloves , or have a tooth pulled out , or pay a bill , but the inquiry is certain to he , " You couldn ' t oblige me , sir , with an order ?" I say nothing of the injury these confounded orders do

      to the theatres and exhibitions they arc supposed to benefit—for , recollect , a person who has ' once tasted the pleasure of going to a theatre for nothing , never thinks of paying again ; but I do inveigh most indignantly against the perpetual bore they are to an Editor ! He must , in common civility , answer every one of his letters ; this makes two hundred letters a day . Those persons he does not oblige—that is to say fifty out of every hundred—call him a ! l sorts of complimentary names , and tell him , tlie first opportunity , what they think of his " meanness . "

      For the remainder of the article we niiistrefer our readers to tlic Table-Book itself . _ The illustrations arc all excellent , as being by the inimitable Geokge they must of necessity be . Next lo a good joint ol Old " English beef , we commend the TuSle-Uoofc for every table .

      The Connoisseurs: A Monthly Record Of Th...

      THE CONNOISSEURS : a Monthly Record of the Fine Arts , Music , and the Drama—Sepiembeb . London : E . Mackenzie , 111 , Fleet-street . The coitents of this number are somewhat heavy , and not £ 0 much to our liking as the contents of the August r . umber . The principal articles are , " The Historical Painter , " "The Conductor , " "The Decline of the Drama , " " The past Ooera Season , ' - " Inauguration of the Statue of Beethoven , " and the mtnthly " Theatrical Summary . " The criticisms on theatricals are ably written , although severe where the writer believes severity to be deserved , and , " take them for all in all , " calculated to make this publication a first-rate authority with aU who love the play . We are glad to see our views as to the talented performances of Mrs . "Wauxer and Mr , Phelps , borne out by so competent a Clitic as tile Editor of the Connoisseur . We do not remember to have noticed in the papers the following curious fact ;—

      The Dbama in . Tbrket , — The regular drama , although in disgrace with us , has , it appears , been successful in other places ' . The pupils of the College of Bcbeck ; in Constantinople , on the Wrth-day of their superior , gave a representation of " the Merchant of Venice , " in English , and the " Malade Imaginaire , " in French , the performers being all Turks . The exhibition was received with such relish , that a series of performances in Turkish aiid modern Greek is said to be in contemplation . The Turks will , no doubt , find this an improvement on their professional story-tellers , and cause to be dramatised , the Arabian Night ' s Entertainments .

      The present number contains an original ballad entitled " Sacred Sorrow . " the words by E . G . WixTiionr , Esq .: the music bylum LoBEn . Ihe illustration to this number is a niost beautiful specimen of lithographic art ; a copy from a cartoon oi large dimensions by Mr . 11 . J . Townsesd . . Ihe subject is from Shakspearc ' s fairy play , the Midsummer Night ' s Dream ; " and depicts the moment when luck is about to disenchant Lysander . All connoisseurs will do well to make- this publication their " guide , philosopher , and friend . '

      The Balloon; Or, Prostatic Magazine.—Sep...

      THE BALLOON ; or , Prostatic Magazine . —September . London : B . SteiU , 20 , Paternoster \\ 0 \ Y , ' That the editor of this magazine ( Henry Wells , Esq . .. ) is no mere enthusiastic theorist , is proved m nearly every page of the present month ' s number of the Balloon ; but particularly by the description given of his newly-invented waterproof car , to tliaWc fflronauts to descend Jn safety into streams , rivers , or the sea itself , without fear of drowning . Such a car the editor has invented , and its utility , it appears , is soon to be put io the test by Mr . Hampton , who is fast completing a splendid new contains

      balloon in Dublin . The present number also articles on several other subjects , including ' " The Destruction of the Albion Balloon , " and the " History of Mr . llampton's-lhilloon . " There are also short accounts of the several ascents of ^ h ' - Green during the past month . The editor has sonic faults of style which nx ' could wish to sec amended . The fanny " (?) anecdote of tlie silly doings of ihe country rustics at East Ham , on the occasion of the descent of Mr . Hampton's balloon , is neither very witty , nor very probable : at any rate , if true , it is no ; worth the space it occupies . As'ballconina h- 'is of late experienced a ¦ revival , and again occupies Millie attention to some extent ,

      The Balloon; Or, Prostatic Magazine.—Sep...

      the appearance of this publication is well-timed , and can hard y fail , we think , to find numerous supporters . Ballooning has been hitherto but little better than child s play ; we are persuaded , however , that . it illicit be turned to the most important uses ; and we shall be glad if this publication helps to produce so desirable a consummation . If it does not , it will not bo through any deficiency of zeal on the part ol tho editor .

      Douglas Jerrold's Shilling Magazilnlv—Oe...

      DOUGLAS JERROLD'S SHILLING MAGAZIlNlv—oEPiEMUEn . London : Punch Office , 92 , PJect-strcefc . Amongafc the contributors to this month ' s number of Douglas Jerholu ' s excellent magazine , we are glad to announce the name of our friend—the poet of Chartism—Thomas Cooper ; who contributes a simple tale under the title of "Charity begins at Home , " Tiic ibllott'ing extract will be its best recommendation : —

      " CUAItlTV BEGINS AT HOME . " All the world , in the village of Sturton-le-Steeple , had said . so , before the time of old Dorothy Tyeeroft ; but Dorothy did not join all the world in saying so . Sturton is a homely little place , situate iu the pleasant shire of Nottingham , ami lying within a couple of miles of the Trent , and old Lincolnshire ; and its church steeple forms a pretty object in the landscape which you view from the hills above Gainsboro ' . Dorothy ryecroft , from the time that she was a child but the height of a table , went to Gainsboro ' inarketwithbutter . eggs . orpoultry . as regularly as Tuesday returned in c . ich week ; for the hearty old dame used commonly to boast that she had never known what it was to have a daj ' s illness iu hev life , alUwMgh , at the season wc tire beginning to gossip about , she was full tlireescore-and-ten . it was a bonny sight to see the

      dame go tripping o ' er the charming lea which spreads its flowery riches from Sturton-le-StcepIe to the banks of noble Trent , by four of the clock on a gay summer ' s morning , with the clean milking pail under her arm , that was bare to the elbow . You would have thought , at a distance , she had been some blithe maiden iu her teens . And then the cheerful and clear tone in which she summoned her cows , calling to them as kindly as if they were her children— " Gome , my pratty creatures 1 " a call that was the signal for a treat of pleasing pastoviai music to the enthusiastic early angler on the Trent : tho rich , varied "low" of the cows—alto , tenor , and bassanswered that call , in changeful echo across the stream ; the angler ' s delighted ear caught a treble , heavenward , from the matin lark , to complete tlie "harmony ¦ " ¦ and even the cackling of the geese , uttering their confused joy at the sound of the dame ' s voice , seemed to mingle no

      unpleasing " discord" with the natural chorus . By the time that her morning ' s milking was over , the spoilt maidens of the viUage were only beginning to open their kitchen window-shutters ; and she usually passed the whole train of them , loitering and chattering about their sweethearts , on their way to the lea , as she returned home , with the rich load upon her head ,, and her arms fixed as properly a-kimbo as could he shown by the sprightliest lass that ever carried a inilking-pail . Some little shame was commonly felt among the loiterers as they passed the exemplary old woman—but it did not result in their reformation . Old Parmer Muxloe , who was always abroad at daybreak , and usually chatted a fewmoments with the dame just at the point where the footpath crossed the bridle-way Over the lea , often commented iu no very measured terms , on the decline o ! discipline among the milk-maids since the days when Te was a lad .

      " Ah , dame ! " ho used to say , " there have been some sore changes since you and I used to take a turn around the maypole ; I'm sure the world gets lazier and laaic-r , every day , " " Why , you sec , neighbour , fashions change , " the old dame would reply—for she ever loved to take the more charitable side of a question —" may be , things may change again , and folk may take to getting up earlier , after a few more years are over . " " 1 ' Jiiilh , I ' ve little Hope on't , " the old former wovi ' . d reply , and shake his head , and smile ; "but there ' s nobody like thee , Dolly , for taking the kindest side . " " Why , neighbour , I always think it the best , " Dorothy would rejoin , with u benevolent smile ; "I never saw tilings grow better by harsh words and harsh thinkings , iu my time . "

      And then the old fanner would smile again , and say , "Well , well , that ' s just like thee ! God bless thee , Dolly , and good morning to thee ! " and away he would turn Dobbin ' s head , and proceed on his usual morning ' s ride from field to field . The work of . her little dairy , added to the care of a humble household , composed of an infirm nnd helpless husband , ' and an equally infiiin maiden-sister— with all and sundry , a stout house-dog , two tabby cats , and a fruitful poultry-yard—usually occupied Dorothy 1 ' yeerolt through the bustling forenoon of each day . And when there was no immediate call upon her skill and benevolence among sick neighbours—for she was the cleverest hci-b-woman in the village , and exorcised hc-r knowledge of the healing art without foe , or willing acceptance even of thanks—she would sit iu her polished high-backed chair , and work through the livelong afternoon at her spinning . wheel , drowsing her two infirm companions into a salutary rest and forgetfulness nitli tlic humming monotony of her labour , but revolving within her own mind many a useful and solemn thought meanwhile .

      Dorothy sat absorl ed in this her favourite employ , one afternoon in autumn , when an itinerant pedlar made his customary call at the cottage door . The dame ' s mind was so deeply involved in the contrivance of one of her little ' plans of benevolence , that she did not recognise the face of the traveller until he had addressed her twice . " Any small wares for children ? any needles , pins , or thimbles % " cried the pedlar , running through the list of his articles with the glibnoss of frequent repetition . " So , Jonah , I want none , " replied tho dame kindly ; " but , may be , you'll take a horn o' beer , and a crumb or two o' bread and cheese V The pedlar assented , well pleased ; and lowered the pack from his shoulders , and set down the basket from his hand ; next , seating himself in a chair without the ceremonial of asking , and in all the" gladsome confidence ofwehome .

      "Thank you , thank you , dame , " he said , and smacked his lips with pleasurable anticipation , as he took the horn of smiling beer and the piece of bread and cheese from the dame ' s hand . "You ' re welcome , Jonah , " replied the dame heartily , "Have you walked far to-day , and what luck have you had ?" " I ' vecome twenty miles , and have never taken handsel yet , dame , " answered Jonah , in a melancholy tone . "So , poor heart ! " said Dorothy , very pitifully ; "I must buy a trifling dozen of needles of thee , however , before thou goest . I fear times are hard Jonah ; I hear many and grievous complaints . "

      " Times are harder than ever I knew them to be , dame , I assure you , " rejoined-Jonah ; " and they that have a little money seem most determined to hold it fast . Sore murmurings arc made about this by poor folk : but I don't wonder atit myself , " concluded tho worldly pedlar - , " for , in such sore times as these , there ' s no knowing what a body may come to want ; and , as the old saving goes , you know , dame , ' Charity begins at home !'" Jonah buried his nose in the ale-horn , thinking he had said something so wisely conclusive that it Could not be contradicted . " They say it was a parson who first used that saying , " observed Dorothy , glaucing from her wheel , very keenly , towards the pedlar ; " but , for my part , Jonah , 1 am very far from thinking it such a saying as a parson ought to use . " '"' ¦ ' . "Say you , dame ? " said Jonah , opening his eyes very wide " Did charity begin at home with their Master ! " said Dorothy , by way of explanation .

      " Ah , dame ! " said the pedlar , quickly discerning Dorothy ' s meaning , " I fear but few parsons think of imitating their Waster , noir-a-days !" "That ' s more than I like to say , " observed the gentle Dorothy ; I think there are more good peoplii in the world than some folk think for ; but I'm sure , Jonah , we all want a better understanding of our duty ton-aids each other . " " Right , Dame Dorothy , right!—that ' s the best sort of religion ; but there ' s the least of it in this world , " rejoined the pedlar . " Why , Jonah , " continued the good dame , "I think there might easily be a great deal more good in the world than ' there is . Everybody ought to remember lioiv many little kindnestcs it is iu their power to perform , for othcis , without any hurt to themselves . " " Yes , a sight o' good pight be done in that way , dame , " observed the pedlar , beginning very much to admire Dorothy ' s remarks ; " and how much more happy the world would be then ' . "

      " Just so 1 ' exclaimed Dorothy , —her aged face beaming with benevolence , — " that is the true way of making the world happy ; for all to be trying to do their fellow-creatures some kindiiess . And then , you see , Jonah , when once tlie pleasure of thus , acting began to be felt , there would soon be a pretty general willingness to make greater efforts , . and even sacrilices of self-interest , US it iswrougly ealled , in order to experience greater pleasure , and likewise to increase the world ' s happiness . " ' " Truly , dame , " said the pedlar , "you do me good to bear you talk . I ' m but a poor scholar ; yet I can tell , without book , that you must be right . " " But then , you see , Jonah , " continued the dnme , half unconscious of Jonah ' s last observation , "if everybody were to say , « Charity begins at home , ' this generalhappiness would never begin . I like best , Jonah , to think of the example of the Blessed Being who came into the world to do us all good . He went about pitying the miserable and afflicted , and healing and blessing tliem . Charity did not begin at home with him , Jonah' "

      The tears were now 'hastening down Jonah ' s rough chucks . How forcible arc lessons of goodness ! how irresistibly tho heart owns their power ! Jonah could not support tlie conversation further . Dorothy ' s plain and unaffected remarks sunk deep into his bosom ; and when ' he rose up , and buckled on ' his pack mice more , and tillage d dame gave Mm "handsel , " or first money for the day , by purchasing a few pi „ and needles , the poor pedhir bade her farewell in im accent that showed ho felt more than common thankfulness for her kindness . Alas ! this is a world where good impressions arc , too oft . ii , speedily effaced | , y p ; , d 0 |) es < Joll ! l ] l ^^ . j ncxt . the jsat « of a . wealthy squire , and , with hat in hand , asked for leave to go up to the kitchen door and expose his wares to tho -servants . The squire refused ; -and whin Jonah pleaded his poverty , aud vcutured-to remonstrate , ilie sipiire frownin ly threatened . to . set the dogs « pon biin , if he did uo '; instantly decntnnl Jonah turned awy .

      Douglas Jerrold's Shilling Magazilnlv—Oe...

      and bitterly cursed the unfeeling heart of tlie rich man , —avowing , internally , that Dorothy Pyecroft was only a doting old fool , —for after all , " Charity begun at home . " The entire talc , though brief , is tco lengthy for our columns ; wc may state , however , that llamc Dorothy next encounters the . parson of the parish , who , in reply to her expressed idea , that the rich might help the poor , replies that " though many may be better off than the poor , still , they have nothing to give away— " charity begins at home . " The dame combats his reverence on this proverb , and the result is llis lllildi-ueedod " . conversion , " The 'following tolls the bequki , of the story : —

      His fine manners were laid aside . He became a veal pastor . He was , from that day , more frequently in the cottages of the poor , twenty times over , than in the houses of the rich . Hy distributed of his SUbst ' iUU'C to relievo tho want of others , and lived himself upon little . He forgot creeds , to preach goodness , . and pity , and mercy , and love , lie preaclnd till he wept , and his audiences wept with him . His life was an embodiment of the virtues he inculcated . And when , in the course of live short year ? , he laid down his boviy in the grave , —a victim to the enrnes : conviction of his heart , —the poor crowded around his hallowed restingplace with streaming eyes , aud loving , but alhicted hearts , wishing theymifrht be where lie was when they died , since they were sure his presence , they said , of itself would make a heaven I The young clergyman interred Dorothy ryecroft but half-a-ycar before his own departure ; and her last words were words of thankfulness that over she had shown ihe

      young man the fallacy of the proverb— " Charity begins at home . " lYe shall return to this magazine nest week .

      To The United Trades. Feuow Owsnativks,—...

      TO THE UNITED TRADES . FeuOW OwsnATiVKS , —Where shall we { ind a man amongst our political economists , or even in society , hold enough to say that industry docs not deserve protection ; yet where is the man who will venture to affirm that it is protected . My friends , there is a very obvious reason for this state of things . The wealth and greatness of the nation is watched over , and protected by , the Government ; the interests ci the . capitalist or monicd man is secured by it also , and by the same power provision is made for the security of all tangible property , as well as for personal safety ; but labour , which forms in itself ikon ly bona fide property of more than two-thiriis of the entire population , is left unprotected , unprovided for . and lulls ' , like the prey of Ihe jackal ! , into tiic

      lion ' s jaws . Arc we , then , to look to the capitalist for that protection to industry which the legislature refuses to give ? The present position of society proves how much , wo have to expect from them , lias not the Government hitherto afforded them every facility for practising upon the rights of labour ? Nor " has any advantage been lost sight of by the competitive spirit of the age—they have been readily turned to account . The price of Labour , which ought to regulate the prion of every article of consumption , is being reduced daily , whilst that of the principal necessaries of life , together wilh our enormous burthen of taxation , remains nearly the same . Thus , a great portion of the industrious ehuses , who have to Jive by their labour alone , sire absolutely reduced to a state of starvation ; they arc literally crucified between two thieves—the avarice of the capitalist on tlic one hand , and the demands of Government on the other .

      What , then , will ultimately-lie thoeondition of the working classes if thtiso evi / s are allowed to go en unchecked in their progress ? It is allowed on all hands , that competition is one of the principal causes of those reductions that take place on the price of labour , and that it forms one of the leading features in every transaction of commerce , none will deny ; that tho spirit of competition keeps pace with the extension of our con mcrco is equal certain . What , then , have we to hope from the capitalist ? What , tromthe Government ? What , from anything save our own exertions to secure the rights of industry ? From those we have much to hope—much may be ( lone , hut the result wiil be in accordance with the directisn of our powers , and proportionate with our

      endeavours to emancipate ourselves- The evils with which we have to contend arc great ; they are of long standing , therefore great and strenuous must be the exertions that will free us from thraldom , and raise us from our present deplorable condition . Yet shall wo give up tlie pursuit of such an object , simply because great exertions are required for the accomplishment of-tho same ? Shall wc tamely submit to the most appalling sufferings of poverty , and allow those who labour not at all to fatten on our folly—to revel in case and luxury on our sweat and toil , without making a determined stand against their unjust and unprincipled practices ? Without any preconcert on the part of the employers of labour , the present system of competition is

      calculated to produce the greatest evils that can afllict the working classes ; for it is very clear that self-interest is the spring of action in all mercantile speculations , lt follows , then , that the great bulk of our merchants and manufacturers arc impelled by similar motives , and this produces a spontaneous unity of action , tlie natural tendency of which is to curtail the price of labour .. To make this more clear , let us take , for example , any given branch of commerce . The individuals following ^ that species of commerce seek to promote their private interest as much as possible , and when , tindera depression cf trade , or other existing circumstances , this cannot be accomplished to ; their satisfaction , the man of business will try to remedy the evil—ho must live by his capital , lie will , as far as possible , reduce the price of tho raw material—next , thatof labour ; ( bus the prime cost of the finished commodity is

      considerably lower than it has been heretofore . This enables him for a time to attract the attention of the market , or purchaser , audio amass wealth which he never would have done had this expedient not been adopted by him . But other competitors having similar interests to promote , soon iind that they must resort to similar practices , or they will be as a dead lettcv in the mtivkci . This is done . The impulse thus created soon subsides , and no sooner docs it lose its efficacy hy finding its own level , and begin to re-act upon the original progenitors of the same , than they make a fresh attack upon the rights ol industry . Thus the evil has been gradually increasing , and will continue to increase , unless the working classes determine to plaeo themselves in a position that trill enable them to have full command over the price of their labour , which may be done without injury to any party .

      How , then , is this great work to be accomplished but by a wise direction of our power ? How , but by having one common centre which shall direct and control themovements of tho multitude , and by bringing our united efforts to bear upon any given undertaking , so as to secure tho greatest possible advantages ? Union is strength , but discretion is tho sou ! of this business . Truth is wholesome , though it may be unpalatable Past experience proves that it is but little use attempting scctionally to gain any permanent advance on the price of labour , or even to withstand the encroachments niadc upon it . If wc intend to achieve any real good , we must he united in one body—wc must be wise and discreet in our counsels ; we must have' a long pull , a strong pull , and a pull altogether . We must rebut the attack of , and make our

      descent upon the enemy with the perseverance of a A apoleon , and , like him , conquer our foes by doing business under a new system . Let ns show to the oppressors of labour throughout the . empire that that ingenuity aud energy which have so long been exercised for their aggrandisement , shall now bo directed iu the defence of our rights in-obtaining a just remuneration for our labour . Let the Trades that have not done so already , . rally round the standard that has been so nobly unfurled— - " TllEr Associavios oi- Vxsted Trades rott the Protectio . v op-Industry . " Let fheni add to tlie numbers of this national movement , giving it their countenance and support , and tlie banner of independence ,. ; planted upon the ruins of a declining power , shall yet be seen waving triumphantly over the heads of the brave sonauf Toil . Jusskja .

      Ricitard Oastlek.—We Iiitve Licai'd, Fro...

      Ricitard Oastlek . —We iiitve licai'd , from authority on which we have pretty good reason to rely v that Uiehard Oastlcr . made £ 30 , 000 upon " the Leeds Stock-Exchange , by legitimate business as a shaiebroker ; that , having in every instance exhibited the strictest integrity , and on repeated occasions displayed an unusually nicely of honour , in handing over to his employers profits that have generally been retained by the broker , but to which All * . Oastlcrdid not consider-Jiimsclf honestly entitled , his fame spread as a faithful dealer and an upright man ; and his business increased accordingly . Once , , v .-c are told , he saved to a speculator £ 3 , 000 or £ iM 0 , which , by the custom of the trade , might have gone into the broker ' s pocket . No wonder Hit-hard

      dard . ' Mr . RicnAKD Oastlek . — An absurd statement . respecting this gentleman and his trains in business as a sliarcbrokcr appeared . as ft leading article in the-Blackburn Standard of Wednesday last , and lias since , been copied into the London journals . There is no foundation for the statement . ( hat . Mr .-QsisUer is ¦ about to enter Parliament ; and as to the amount Ot his guins ; the statement , adverted to exaggerates them verr much . — Leeds IiUeUfccnccr .

      Oastlcr prospered ; and he deserved to do so Lv many well-known reasons . Ho is a man whose welfare is of public import ; and whether his honest gains be above or below the sum stated , there are thousands in this country who will rejoice as heartily at his ^ iccess as they sincerely sympathized , with him in the time of his misfortunes , to crown " all , wc arc assured that Mr . Oa ? tier contemplates entering Parliament , choosing from among the many interests that now have a voice in the national assembly , to represent the interests of humanity on the short-time question . And thori what a contrast will be offered to the admiring gaze of weary poverty , or virtuous ambition sinking by the way , ' between ' Richard Oastlcr , confined in the Fleet Prison for debt , and Richard Oastlcr , "Esquire , " a man of wealth , and an able and influential member of Parliament!—Blackburn . Stan-

      Git £!&

      Git £ !&

      Elkctiox Von Soutiiwark.—Why Is Sir \\ L...

      Elkctiox von SouTiiwARK . —Why is Sir \\ llliam Molcsworth .-in appropriate candidate for the borough , of Southwark ? because , to get into a boroueli is all that a mole ' s ' worth . —if the shcritf or high bamtt take the show of hands iu favour of Miall , what then ? " Whv then , * ' answers a debtor from tuo Queen ' s Prison— " it will not be the first time that a sheriff or a bailiff has taken mu all !"— How ore the Radicals pursuing Air , richer in this buroturli ? They arc pursuing him with two strong candid kites . —What would be a numerical minority at this election ? It would ho a numerical minority if all tlto voters were under age . —Wt-v will the Speaker ' s delay in the issue of the writ creatly fatigue whatever member may be returned ? ° Because ho'il have to stand so lowj before he can take his scat . —Joe Miller .

      Agrarian ' . —W hat lit would yon put into the mouth of an Irish peasant to make him co quiet ? Tho bit of land . —Ibid .

      . rpRorr . . " 1 ' rom your black looks you wish me dead , " Said k ' rougliam toCamplic-U , man of law ; " No , no , " said Jock , " I wish , instead , You merely had a stiff leck-fo . v . " GbiiJm . y Tmj ; s . —Tho Duke of Uru :: r , w ! ck lately defended himself in person in the action ol'libul brought against him by bis former solicitor , Mr . Yallance , at Croydon , and in course of the proceedings tho Duke complained of his being served with a wiit in which ho was described as a person " commonly called the Duke of Brunswick , " which he considered an insult , "for , " he said , "in my country if a Duke lu \ s sixty sons they are aU Dukes ( laughter ) , and if a Count has sixty sons they are nil Counts . " Ko wonder that Dukes and Counts are tm nuiucroua in Germany ,

      WinowEii Smith asv > Wicow Josus . —Widower Smith ' s waggon stopped one morning at Widow-Jones ' s door , and lie gave the usual country signal that he wanted somebody iu thu house , hyili-uppiug ' his reins , and mUhh ? double , with his oi bows mi his knees . Out nipped the widow , as lively as a ciieisofc , with a tremendous black ribbon on her snow-white cap . " Good morning" was soon said on both side ! -, , and the widow waited lor what was further to bo said , " Well , ma am Jones , perhaps you don ' c want to sell one of your coir . « , no how , for nothing , any way , do you ? " " Weil , there , Mr . Smith , you couldn ' t have spoken my mind butter . A poor lone widtlcr , like n , c , docs not know what to do with so many critters ; and I should bo glad to trade if WO

      could lis . it . " So they adjourned to tho meadow . Farmer Smith looked at itoan , ani then at the widow , at the Downing cow , and at tho widow again ; and so on through tho whole forty . The small call was made cvu-y day for a weik , but former Smitli . could not decide which cow he wanted . At length , on Saturday , when widow Jones was in a hurry to get through with her bilking for Sunday , and had " everso much" to do in the house , as all farmers ' wives and widi . ws have on Saturday , siic was a little impatient . Farmer Smith was as irresolute as ever . " That ' crc Downing is a pvctly fair critter , but "lie stopped to glance at the widow ' s face , and then walked round her—not the widow , but the row .

      " That ' crc short-horn Durham is nut a had-Uoking beast , but 1 don ' t know "—another look at the widow . " The Downing cow I kn : w before the late Mr . Jcnes bought her . " " Here iic sighcii , at tho alhiMun to tiw late Mr . Jones ; she « ighod , nnd hot !) looked at each other . It was a-highly interesting moment . "Old Roan is ft faithful old milch , and ' so is Brindle ; but I have known better . " A long stare followed each speech ; the pause was gettiiijrawkward , and ablush Mis . Jones broke out— " Lord ! Mr . Smith , if I'm . the one you want , do Kir so . '" The intentions ot widower Smith aiui widow Jones were duly published ( he next day , as is the law and custom in " Massachusetts ; and as soon as they were outpublishcd , they were married . —American paper .

      AnvAXTAGi ; or a " Fkikxb at Coi'ut . "—Tlic two police commissioners have hitherto rd ' civcd a salary of £ 1 , 200 each , and it is rumoui-cdthatSirJair . es Graham is svhout to increase it to no less a sum than £ 1 , 000 . At present the Ncthcrby baronet does not contemplate any increase in the dietary of paupers . A IIkfohm Joke . —One of the best jokes of the reform times was with the waiter . "All reformers here , waiter , 1 suppose V said an old Tory , paying his bill . " Oh yes , sir , all reformers here , muster and inislrcsi nnd all , sir . " " And yon , John , arcyott a reformer ? " " \' cs , I am very staunch for reform , sir . " " Very well then , John ; there ' s the bill , the whole bill , aud nalhwu } hut tha bill . " And so saying , Ihe gentleman laid down his money . —Ai-w Jlonthttj Ma < ja "' ne .

      Suhlimic Pi . roratio . y . — " Strike iof the green graves of your sires !•„ strike for your altars , your homes , and your 7 io { air furnaces !"—A ' cMi l oth pctftTS . Bir . Tii Extraordinary . —The following is a literal copy of an announcement fcrwarded to us for insertion among the births of ( he week . It is something like Robinson Ci-usco ' a first night ' s lodging on tho island of J ran Fernandas in a tree—rather a breezy berth : — " On Sunday Last at Is Residence Mrs . Of A Sun ami Air . "—Leeds Intelligencer . "Tnr . Dkvh . oax qootb SciunrujtB . "—A gentleman , having it remarkably long visage , lately passing a turnpike gate , overheard one hid say to another , " That gentleman ' s Ihce is longer than his life . " Stril' k with the singularity of ihe rule observation , lm turned and requested an explanation ; " Sir , " said lh < : boy , " I road at school that mail ' s life is but a span , aid I am sure your face is double that length . "

      • AKDOVEIl DlSbliACE . I ' onc-dnst msiy he : i prime »!;> i > i ; rt \ i \ llti most abundant crops ins > un .- ; llut human mouths were ntVr designed To be thu mills these hones to griwi ' . Ladies and Gentlemen . —1 asked the landlord the inn at Corning , who was very attentive to his guests , to find my coachman . He iiim ' . eiiiately cried out in his bar-room , ,: "Where is the gentleman that brought that ui . tu here V A few days before , a farmer in New York had styled my wife the " woman , " though he called his daughters ladies , and would , I believe , have freely extended that title to their maidservant . I was told of fi witness in a Jale trial . it Boston , who said , " While lie and another gentleman were shovelling up mud , " Ac—hull ' s Travels .

      SCENE IX THE GALLERY OF llt'llMX THEATRE . " 1 ' at Alooncy ! " shouts a voice in the gallery . " Halloo ! " answers Tat from the opposite side of the gallery . . Voice—Can you sec ' cm , Pat ? ( Moaning the Lord and Laiiy Lieutenant . ) Pat Mooney . —1 can . Voice . —Weil , what's he like ? Pat Mooncy . —Ob , mighty liken ; : rozicror mithllclnan . Any way , he has got a good lung nose of his own . ( Loud laughter , iu which \\ h lordship , heartily joins . ) Voice . —Is he clever , think you ? Pat Mooncy . —I'd be sorry to make him sincekecper . ( Laughter again . ) Voice . —Does Jic look good-natured ? Pat Mooncy . —Well , lie docs , and enjoys a joke , too . Heaven ' bless him ! like a gentleman : \ s he is . Voice—Then we'll not have to send him back ?

      Pat Mooney . —No , I don't think we shall . We may get worse . ( Roars of laughter . ) They say he ' s mighty generous , and means to spend his money like a prince . ( lalleiy . —Bravo ! bravo ! We'll keep him , thenwe'll keep him . Three cheers , lads—three cheers for ( he Lord Lieutenant . ( Cheers and laughter . ) Voice —Well , ami what's she like , Pat ? Pat Mooncy . —Oh , nothing particular . Slic ' tl not frighten a horse . ( Jioais , her ladyship joining . ) Voice . —Is fhe hill ? Pat Mooncy . —Wait till she stands up . Voice—May be she ' s stout , Pat ' ( Pat Mooncy . —Faix ! you may say that . It isn't the likes of her lives on buttermilk . ( Hows . ) Voice—D ' ye think slio ' s good-natured ?

      Pat Mooncy . —Oh , I'll engage she is . . She lias the rani liiond in her , and there ' s plenty oi' it . ( Hoars , and " iliTiVo ! " from tho Gallery . ) Many Voices . —She'Ii do then , Pat ? Pat Moonev . —Och , she will—she will . I'll engage for lwv ladyship . Voice . —Wc may keep her , then , may we ? Pat Mcwv'y . —belli tin ; , lunger the better , the lonsrer ihe better , ( lloais . ) It ' s her ladyship that'll speak the good word for the man that ' s in thrubbie , ami never let the dnccnt woman want that ' s in the straw—God bless her ! Gallcrv . — Pravo ! bravo I three cheers for her Ladyship ' . —three cheers for the Lady Lieutenant ' . ( Cheers iind laughter . )

      Pat Mooncy ( seeing the Lord Mayor ) . —My sowl to ye ! Dan Fnniiuian , is that you ? Gallery . —Ah ! ail ! Ia that you , Dan Finnagan ? —is that you ? ( Hisses and laughter . ) Pat Mooncy . —Faix ! it's good " for the likes of usto see you down among the gintvy thei e , Dan Fmna 2 . in V ( Laughlcr , at which his Lordship did not seem p-. - . rticu ! : u- ! v pleased . ) Och ! yon needn't look up so sour at t : s ! Many ' s the gOOfl timoVOU'vc sat Ori here yourself;—roil knowit is , yo old vinegar bottle ! ( Roars . ) ' . , . " Voice—Sure the world ' s gone well wid you any way , Dan Fitimtgan . Ye hadn't them white kid a Pat Moouoy . —No , nor yet that grand " cocked hat there—

      -Voice—Ko , nor that white wand , yc tftYWoynnt' ! when von kept tlie chandlcr ' sshnp , aud'ehcated Miko Keilv nut of - a farden ' s worth of pipes , and— - Gallery . — Ah ! ah ! -Who cheated Mike Kelly ? —who cheated Mike Kelly ? ( Great confusion , ilitrinjr ' which tho orchestra strikes '\)» . )—Btntteif $ SlhrcHunp . " What ' s ix a Name ?"—Otic r . f ( lie most singular surnames ever tact with is that of a giiiit ' emnn of fortune in Kent , fits family name was Pw , and as he had m .-acrna ! relatives oi" the name of "Savagr-,-. Ill ' s i'jTOiiU save him the Christian ( in * rath' v im-L'hi'is liai ) name uf Savage , itcuov lie enjoyed the pleasing and imiiabic name cfSavacc iJeai' , L ' i' 0 .

  • Citation
    • Northern Star (1837-1852), Sept. 6, 1845, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/ns2_06091845/page/3/