THE RUSSIANS IN COVENT GARDEN. HE Russians are victorious; we are fairly beaten, and it is nothing more than common candour to own our discomfiture. MR. GYE has been the prime means of introducing the Muscovites into the very heart of the Metropolis; and whether we will or no, we must own their mastery. We will, how-. ever, as plainly as our emotion will permit us, give a brief narrative of the catastrophe. On the evening of the 19th inst., between seven and eight, it was plain that an attack was to be made. The Russians had, by some means, taken possession of Covent Garden Theatre. The English, however, thronging the house, resolved to dispute the ground, inch by inch. At eight o'clock precisely, GENERAL COSTA, with his truncheon in hand, rode into the orchestra, and was received with heavy rounds, which he received with the self-possession and true modesty of a true hero. The orchestra opened from the overture battery, and never did we witness such power, such brilliancy, and precision of fire. They carried all before them. The fight raged from half-past eight-with but two brief intervalsuntil nearly a quarter to one, when the star of Russia-La Stella del Nord-was hailed as star triumphant. It is impossible for us,-although subdued and led away captive by the power of FIELD-MARSHALL MEYERBEER, to suppress the expression of our admiration, our veneration for the genius of that little, great man (for in corporal presence we think he hardly tops NAPOLEON or WELLINGTON). The subdued people flung bouquets and garlands at his feet,-the giant of music! But how admirably was the genius of the General seconded by the genius of his forces! Prodigious was the energy of Pietro Micaeloff Formes; magnificent the power of the Cossack Corporal Gritzenzo Lablache. (He fought on foot; we can therefore give no idea of the horse that could carry him). How gracefully, how skilfully did Danilowitz Gardoni bring up his forces,-setting them in the most brilliant array. Especially mighty in their grace and sweetness were the Amazons who took the field. How shall we describe Catterina Bosio, flashing hither and thither, and wherever she appeared, subduing and taking prisoner all about her. And then, that Prascovia Marai-with an innocent face: a face like a flower, yet so invincible wherever she appeared. Unerring sharp-shooters were the Vivandières, Eclinnona Bauer and Natalia Rudersdoff-picking off unerringly whatever they aimed at. Finally, the triumph of the Russians at Covent Garden is all to nothing the greatest victory the Russians have had in the present war. There can be no doubt that GENERALISSIMO GYE will "sack" all London. Among the distinguished visitors who were present at this Russian victory, we noticed the EARL OF ABERDEEN, MR. GLADSTONE, and MESSRS. COBDEN, BRIGHT, and MILNER GIBSON. We heard that LORD JOHN RUSSELL occupied a box; but if so, he sat so far back in the shadow-that we cannot conscientiously say we saw him. THE RECRUITING SERJEANT AMONG THE COME now, you fine young fellows that behind the counter stand, In Regent Street, or Oxford Street, or in St. Paul's Churchyard, It is a woman's business a shop-yard-stick to wield, To wait upon them, ladies, though pleasant it may be, In lieu of handsome shopmen to look at and admire, So many gallant heroes the ladies now require, From brutal Russian savages to defend their matchless charms, From morning until late at night you now have got to stop, In sedentary callings I wonder you can stay, From fever and consumption through being so confined, Or if you were less lucky, returning from the war, PARLIAMENTARY NIGHT-WORK. LORD MAYOR MOON while very properly directing his attention to the filth in the Thames, has rather improperly expressed a hope "that the matter will be at once taken up by Parliament." Surely Parliament has quite enough dirt on its hands just now, without adding the mud from the Thames to the heap of nuisances with which it has had to deal, and still has to dispose of. The progress of legislation has been slow enough, but if at this period of the year Parliament should go into the Thames, we may expect the legislative machine to stick in the mud for the short remainder of the session. We do not agree with the LORD MAYOR in calling on either house to act as a dredger for the purpose of "taking the matter up," and we prefer leaving the mud in the hands of the corporation, who will know how to deal with it. As Conservator of the Thames it is peculiarly the province of the LORD MAYOR to go into the matter, and probe it to the very bottom; though we confess we cannot fairly expect his Lordship to get over head and ears immersed in the very unpleasant business. The New Doorkeeper of the House of Commons. SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON has appeared lately in the new character of a doorkeeper of the House of Commons, and in that capacity he has been holding the door open for LORD JOHN RUSSELL, saying to his Lordship, in a tone of the most satirical blandness, worthy of Pelham in his best kids, "This way Out-this way Out, my Lord! However, he has experienced the greatest difficulty in making LORD JOHN, who has grown rather short-sighted since the Vienna conference, see the door. SOULS SOLD BY AUCTION. UR old friend, the Morning' splendid business in cure of souls-souls cured at a guinea per soul. Incumbent fifty-five years of age; human life precarious: many gentlemen die at fifty-five. What shall we say for this eligible Rectory? Situate in pleasant places; what will any gentleman or lady give for this Rectory? Eligible and the present incumbent fifty-five. Full fifty-five years of age and life transitory-and situate in pleasant places. What shall we say? Shall we say twenty thousand pounds? Ten? Five? Shall we say five? Five thousand pounds-and a thousand a-year. One thousand souls and only five thousand pounds. Five pounds a soul, and a thousand pounds yearly return: capital replaced in five years. Will nobody give five thousand pounds? Four? Three? Two? (Thank you, my Lord.) Two thousand pounds are bid for this first-rate Rectory of only one thousand souls, situate in pleasant places and yielding one pound per soul per annum. And the present Incumbent fifty-five years of age. And one thousand pounds per annum. And human life transitory. Three thousand. (Thank you, Ma'am.) Three thousand pounds for the Rectory of Husband Bosworth-eligible family Rectory-going at three thousand. Only three thousand-and one thousand pounds per annum. Three thousand pounds only, and the cure of no more souls than one thousand. Probable Dissenters among the souls, and proportionate reduction of labour. Only three thou and nounds bid for this sumptuous living. Going at three thousand pounds. And fifty-five years of age and human life transitory. Transitory human life and fifty-five years of age, and going at three thousand pounds. Going at three thousand-going-going-? Gone!" FIRM ! WHAT though AZRAEL'S shadow lowering What though dull Routine be fumbling What though in the hour of action Old men fill the place of young? Be all this and worse before us, What though each sweep of Death's sickle Fall on backs hard press'd before? Be all this and worse before us, What though Russia be colossal ? What though Britain be but small? 'Tis the cause moulds the ApostleHugest idols heaviest fall. More than navies, more than armies, Is the Power rules earth and sea- Then, let what may be before us, WHY ABUSE THE THAMES? MR. HAMMERS will also sell the Rectory of Simpson, "most pleasantly situate Ir is really very unfair of everybody to be always abusing within a mile and a half of Stoney Stratford (so called, as the reader knows, on poor old Father Thames, who was originally a clean, account of the fleas), five miles from Woburn, and fifteen minutes' walk of the respectable, well-conducted river, until we rendered him Bletchley station on the London and North Western Railway." The living is worth what he is by throwing dirt at him and into him, on all two hundred and fifty pounds a-year, with parsonage-house; and the incumbent of and from all hands. Father Thames may well turn round Simpson is nearer to his grave by twenty years than the parson of Husband upon the public and exclaim, in the words of Norma Bosworth, being five over three-score and ten. The Rectory of West Lydford, (English version). Somerset, will also be knocked down to some speculative person by MR. HAMMERS. "The living is worth four hundred and fifty pounds a-year," but "the vendor's right 66 "See the wretch that thou hast made me." to present is subject to the contingency of a lady, aged sixty-three, dying in the For it is the public to whom the river is indebted for all lifetime of the present rector, whose age is eighty-three." MR. HAMMERS will the filth it contains. Not only do we pitch into it everyprobably expatiate, with his accustomed eloquence, on any infirmities on the part thing in the shape of refuse, but we are continually of this venerable clergyman, which are likely to prevent him from attaining to the age of OLD PARR. Houghton-on-the-Hill will also be submitted by MR. HAMMERS to public competition: "the income of this Rectory, two hundred and sixty pounds per annum, is of the most satisfactory kind, arising entirely from the rents of lands, and not from tithe-rent charge." The living man of whom, dead, the shoes are to be waited for in this instauce, is aged seventy-six. It is perhaps unnecessary to add, that MR. HAMMERS is not himself in the Church, and that the pulpit whence he will address his congregation is one without a sounding-board, and one from which the orator is not accustomed to hurl denunciations against moneymaking and the love of ease. The Thirsty Feast-Day. INSTEAD of creating a disturbance by reason of having been tormented with drought on a Sunday by the Sabbatarians through their Beer Bill, it might answer the purpose of respectable mechanics simply to lie down in the streets, having chalked on the pavement before them the brief but touching inscription, "I am thirsty." pitching into it" in the more familiar and pugilistic sense of the words. We might just as well throw a quantity of rubbish into our neighbour's garden, and then begin abusing the poor garden as a nuisance, for which, after all, the remedy is in our hands. How can we expect the Thames to wear anything but black looks under the treatment to which it is exposed, for we should all of us wear a somewhat lowering aspect if we were to be perpetually made a target for all the dirt that the Metropolis contains. An Unlucky Day. The Morning Herald lately said: "The PREMIER has stated that Friday, the usual supply day, shall not be a supply day." No! Has LORD PALMERSTON become so superstitious? WHO IS THIS? WHY THIS IS MR. JOHN CHUB PULLING ONE OF HIS LONG, SLOW, STEADY STROKES. HE IS TAKING MORE PAINS THAN USUAL, BECAUSE THOSE PRETTY GIRLS IN THE ROUND HATS ARE SITTING ON THE LAWN DRAWING FROM NATURE. "ONE TOUCH OF NATURE." were FARREN has left the stage. His farewell was marked by the expression of public sympathy and admiration. The audience truly in earnest when they took leave of their old servant. The actor was surrounded by actors and actresses -brothers and sisters all of the footlights. An incident, however, was particularly touching; and, even as the fountains leap into existence at the Crystal Palace, it called up a gush of tears from all assembled. It was particularly affecting, because the feeling was deep and uncontrollable, when J. P. HARLEY (who has himself been some three-quarters of a century a public benefactor) flung himself in speechless emotion on the neck of FARREN! Such THE EXCURSIONIST AS MR. HALL WOULD HAVE HIM- "MR. HALL, CHIEF MAGISTRATE AT BOW STREET, CANNOT DISCOVER ANY INCONVENIENCE' IN THE PRESENT WORKING OF THE ACT, BUT RECOMMENDS THAT THE POOR SUNDAY EXCURSIONIST SHOULD STRAP A KNAPSACK ON HIS BACK, WITH TWO OR THREE BOTTLES OF BEER, AND THE CHILD TO BOOT, SOONER THAN THE SUNDAY SHOULD BE DESECRATED BY OPENING THE PUBLIC-HOUSES.'" |