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protection both against sun and rain, to the Macaronis, who were then A NEW HISTORY OF INVENTIONS. in their glory in the gay purlieus of Bucklersbury.

The exact inventor is not known, but it has been satisfactorily asceryet in its tained that he realised a comfortable income by the exercise of his cradle, philosophy still in useful ingenuity, and was also able to lay by something for a rainy day. its perambulator, no had thought of envelopes or egg-boilers, the idea of Of the hundreds and thousands of visitors who will gaze with the sewing machine had not admiration on the delightful picture of The Boyhood of Raleigh, with occurred to the most daring which MR. MILLAIS charms us in this year's Exhibition of the Royal imagination, and asparagus Academy, how many will know or recollect that to RALEIGH we owe tongs were only known in new potatoes, anchovy toast, opera-glasses (of course a very rude forethe marble halls of the runner of the present lorgnette), and tobacco ? GONZAGAS and the porphyry

HOLINSHED tells us that QUEEN ELIZABETH knighted SIR WALTER, palaces of the MEDICI, when that memorable afternoon when he, with all the grace of a polished GALILEO GALILEI, weary of courtier and ease of a chivalrous, great-hearted gentleman, removed, maintaining his claim to the wearing gloves of taffeta, the parcel-gilt cover from the first dish of priority of the invention of potatoes (kidneys) ever tasted in this country, on the occasion of the the Rule of Three over his entertainment given by HER MAJESTY, at Blackwall, to the Ambasgreat countryman DANTE, sadors from Westphalia, after the ratification of the treaty which withdrew from the world secured to England a monopoly of the celebrated hams of that kingabout the time that COPER- dom at the expense of a war with the Low Countries--the commence

discovered Night ment of those rasher enterprises which marked the latter portion of Lights, to a humble cottage Bacon's career, and the ultimate cause of his downfall, and residence near Amsterdam, to revolve for so many years in exile at Hamburgh. in his mind through thirteen cloudless years, undisturbed by monks or missionaries, unassailed by the Inquisition

ON PHOTOGRAPHY TO PHEBUS. st and the Star Chamber, sub

PAEBUS APOLLO, King of Light benignant, sisting mainly on prawns

In glory seated’mid the solar blaze, and pound-cake, and contented with the congenial society of his

Lord of the Fine Arts, dost thou not, indignant, favourite kangaroo - the deep problem which had turned KEPLER

Behold how mortal men profane thy rays? white, prematurely aged Tycho BRAHE, and wrinkled, untimely, the capacious brow and benevolent form of our own NEWTON; but which

O Phæbus, 'tis enough to drive thee furious was at last to be solved by the marvellous Florentine in the stillness of

That we sun-pictures make of scoundrel thieves, a Michaelmas night, in the solitude of a tapestried chamber, far from

Whilst thine half-brother, eloquent Mercurius, the voice of the nightingale, but not altogether free from the noise of

Nephew of Atlas, their Protector, grieves. rats, in his Oriental-dressing-gown and Eastern slippers, after a philosophic meal of porridge, flavoured with curaçoa, between the hours of

Thais, and Lais, and Phryne, and such creatures, one and two in the morning.

Bright Hyperion, thou must needs portray. Sleep came not to the great astronomer's eyes that night. All On view, for sale, lo their audacious features through its watches he paced the apartment with eager, restless steps.

Beside the holiest Icons, god of day! Plans, diagrams, calculations, sketches, models employed his busy hands and brain till the stars went in and the milkman came out, when

Vile notorieties, snobs, scenes of folly, GALILEO, Wrapt in thought and a light overcoat, glided noiselessly

Displayed to gaping multitudes we see, from his happy home, hurried through the unpeopled streets-em

Dead brigands ; objects yet more melancholy, bracing, by the way, in his joy, with a cry of "Eupnka ! Eupnia !” an

Live blackguards in shop windows drawn by thee! amazed lamp-extinguisher-roused up an eminent cabinet-maker, and imparted to him his immortal invention of the telescope-dining-table.

THE PRIZE RING. The Reformation of the Calendar and the composition of the ecclesiastical chants that embalm his name in the service and ceremonial of BRUSHES, better known as the “

LITTLE AMY, commonly called the “ Coral-lip Pet," and BERTIE the Western Church, have hitherto been supposed to be the brightest for £10,000 to £5,000.

dashing young Painter,” are matched laurels around the brow of POPE GREGORY THE THIRTIETH; but recent researches in the Library of the Vatican, conducted under the The Pet comes from a good school, and is acknowledged to be all that

The event is expected to come off on some fine morning in June, joint superintendence

of DR. CUMMING and MR. NEWDEGATE, have the “ Fancy painted her.” brought to light the very interesting discovery that to GREGORY the world is also indebted for the famous Powder which bears his vene- Professor SMORLWITZ, better known by his sobriquet of the “Calculating

The long-talked-of match between the “ Peony of Pansgrove” and rable name, and was first compounded by his private physician in the Boy," for £5,000 to £50 is off. Baths of DIOGENES towards the close of the proceedings. The original Latin prescription, in the Pope's well-known auto- also is DARCIE Dumley, over whom last Summer the "Darling”

LOTTY LAURELS, the "Admiral's Darling,” is now in town. So graph, was found serving as a book-mark in a volume of the works of METEMPSYCHOSIS, and at the foot of it is written a recommendation, that he would be happy to accommodate the “Darling" in a match

achieved such a signal conquest in a private-box. DARCIE informs us one which must for

ever endear His Holiness to the young of all times, for £20,000 a side. Ti DARCIE really means business, the Darling climes, and creeds—that, when administered to children, the powder may be heard of on Thursday Evening between eleven and three, at the should always be carefully concealed in currant-jelly.

“ Laughing Belles,” May Fair.

Tom Bola, who fell on his knees at his first meeting with BLANCHY In whose reign was the indispensable umbrella originally introduced BULBUL, the “ Bird of Paradise," and has since been troubled with a into this damp climate ? An unsettled question which has provoked slight heart-affection, is now ready to make a match with the Bird for never-ending dissension between contending antiquaries,

who, while £30,000 a side. Poor Tom was for some time in a strait, having lost upholding their favourite theories, have showered abuse on each other his balance through the giving way of a bank, but we are glad to see with a steady malignity to which no parallel can be found except in that he is now coming round. May his shadow never grow less, is the the annals of extinct races.

cordial wish of his friends, who pronounce Tom Bola the noblest The learned WATERLAND leans to the Protectorate as the period champion that ever threw—as a heavy weight-his fortune into the when the dandies of CROMWELL's time first began to parade the then ring. fashionable promenades of Pentonville and the Minories, nnder cover of their party-coloured umbrellas; but that great Batavian scholar WETSTEIN, who was often in England, and became a Fellow of the

Perfectly Appropriate. Royal Society, has disposed of WATERLAND's notion completely, and LORD CLAUD HAMILTON has been complaining in the House that takes his stand on a tradition which he found current among the the bases of the statues in Waterloo Place, Cockspur Street and Waldenses, that the Venetian envoys, who came to this country to Charing Cross have been used for the storage of road-materials, the negotiate the establishment of Italian warehouses in the closing years deposit of rubbish, and so forth. Why complain? Are not these of CHARLES THE SECOND, set the fashion of using an umbrella, as a

par excellence

« base uses

STANZAS FOR SOFT MUSIC. (Not a whit more silly than some we heard sung lately.)

I would I were a stickleback,

And wore a comet's tail,
I'd quaff a cup of sherries sack,

Or quart of nut-brown ale.
Then hlithely to the depths I'd dive

Of ocean all serene :
Or gaily soar full fathom five

Beneath the village green.
What rapture on the beam to ride

Of yonder verdant moon,
With roasted snowballs at my side,

And in my hand a spoon !
Yet were my rosy brow as fair

As Ethiop's pale queen,
No longer I would breathe the air

Upon the village green !


The Hair and the Hustings.
Emma. Ah! The chignon is now at the poll of the head.
One of these days the chignon will be at the head of the

Edwin. I cannot say, I hope I shall not live to see it. But if I do, a most preposterous fashion will have lasted a great many years.

Emma. Oh, you disagreeable creature !

Godliness is Gain.
You Britons, we are told, seek China's land,
Opium and scripture either in each hand,
All right; the Drug is for the natives' use :
The Book to keep them from the Drug's abuse.

A NOTE IN MUSIC. TENORS who strive after the high ut de poitrine may properly be nicknamed the Toilers of the C.


[Would you believe it? A Sketch from Nature.

HO(A)RSE EXERCISE.-Singing with a Bad Cold.


Still stands the Temple as before, with knights and serjeants fain;

But mail is turned to miniver, white gown to gown of grain : OPENED BY THE PRINCESS LOUISE, SATURDAY, MAY 14, 1870.

And wits, law-whetted, have thrust out yeapons less sharp than they,

And if the long-bow still is drawn, it is in wordy fray. FROM mail to gown: from prayers to pleas : from arms to wordy war! Strangely Time's whirligig hath spun, alongside Temple Bar: Those whose work is change of monies the courts o' the Temple cram : Since "Christ's poor soldiers" the white robe with the red cross did For the brethren of the Law have come on the brethren of the Lamb: * don

'Tis moots, for tilts; for lance and sword, 'tis quillets of the law : The good knights of the Temple of the wise KING SOLOMON.

For the cleaving of the quintain, the splitting of the straw. Whom HUGH DE Payens knew so poor, two knights one horse must Crusades and eke crusaders into Limbo-Lake have gone, ride

And the Templars have been followed by the Brethren of St. John : But whose poverty grew riches, and whose humbleness waxed pride, Holy wars and wars unholy: French wars : Wars of the RoseEre their Church in the new Temple, that by Thames' side standeth proud, Whose floweret-badge of red and white in the Temple garden blowsHERACLIUS, the patriarch, to MARY mother vowed.

Have all been fought: their blood-shed hath long grown up in grain : Fair rises the New Temple, where Fleet to fields gives way,

Whose bread hath long been made man's flesh : that flesh worms'. By the river fringed with alders green, and hawthorns white with May, meat again : For them that fare to Westminster, by the path along the Strand, And BLUFF KING Hal hath given the Monks their choice to go or Noisy with boats upon the stream, and man and horse on land.


And the Worshipful Society its house holds of the King.
East upon Fleet, and west on fields, the Templars' house stands fonare. And solemnly or joyously, with state or high disport,
With church, and hall, and chapter-house, and cloisters carven fair.
And between it and the river the garth lies smooth and green,

These Templars hold, as fits the time, Themis' or Momus' court, Kept for manége of great horses, and tilt and tourney keen.

Their readers' feasts, and serjeants' feasts, and Christmas revels rare,

With kings and queens ofttimes for guests, great lords and ladies fair. There, close-shorn and long-bearded, mailed knights move to and fro, And white-coift serving brothers in their office come and go,

Here Bluff King Hal with CATHERINE hath laughed with lusty cheer, And sacring-bell

, and service chaunt, and organ peal ascend, And Good Queen Bess watched masque and play with her blue eye That with neighing of war-horses and clash of weapons blend.

keen and clear,

When Master CHRISTOPHER HATTON in a cinque pace danced his way And then the river-mists roll up and shut the picture in,

To the Virgin-Queen's good graces, and held them many a day. And the chaunts die into silence, and the neighing and the din ; Here on All-Hallow eve, or when the mighty yule-log blazed, And when they clear, the Templars are fall’n from house and hold, Betwixt the dogs, his Hunt i'the Hall the green-clad Rauger raised, And the fire hath had their bodies, and the Kings have shared their gold.

* The cognizance of the Templars was a Lamb bearing a Flar.


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And coupled fox and cat † were chased with horn and loud halloo, And so sweeps King Misrule along: but aye, as the rout comes down, By merry outer-barristers, the Great Hall through and through. Gaud after gaud drops off his robe, gem on gem from his crown:

Till “Merry England” sounds like a misnomer and a mock: And the Masters of the Revels, and the Master of the Game,

How should we find jesting leisure, whose haste outruns the clock ? Led the dance of Judgeand Serjeant round the wood-fire's dancing flame; While viol, harp, and sack but rang out their merry peal, And the spiced sack flowed in the loving cup till head grew light as heel. But one glimpse of the blithe old times seemed granted to our day,

When to the site of the old Hall, upon a morn of May, 4. “Sir John FORTESCUE alludes to the revels and pastimes of the Temple Judges, Serjeants, and Queen's Counsel, -a-gathering we saw:

The magnates of the land, y-mixed with magnates of the law,-in the reign of HENRY THE SIXTH, and several ancient writers speak of the grand Christmasses, the readers' feasts, the masques, and the sumptuous For feasting of a Royal Prince, and, ever pleased to please, entertainments afforded to foreign ambassadors, and even to Royalty itself. Of our Princesses fairest where all are fair, LOUISEcharacters who figured at them were the Marshall of the Knights Templars, They come as Kings and Queens had come to these old walls of yore, the Constable Marshall, the Master of the Games, the Lieutenant of the And never Royalty, I ween, a fairer presence wore. Tower, the Ranger of the Forest; the Lord of Misrule, the King of Cockneys, The times are hard and hasty; work drives play off the ground; and Jack Straw!

“The Constable Marshall came into the Hall on banqueting-days fairly Life's field's all market-garden, where flowers are hardly found; mounted on his mule, clothed in complete armour, with a nest of feathers of The ring of Temple revels sounds faint and far away; all colours upon bis helm, and a gilt poleaze in his hand. He was attended by The aureole round the Law's

grey head grows dimmer day by day: halbardiers, and preceded by drums and fifes, and by sixteen trumpeters, and devised some sport for passing away the afternoon.'.

But one note of the old music from the old Hall, now laid low, “The Master of the Game, and the Ranger of the Forest, were apparelled in Through the bright bearns and fresh panels of the new Hall seemed to flow; green velvet and green satin, and had hunting-horns about their

necks, with One echo of the mirth where with the old Hall roof-tree rung, which they marched round about the fire, blowing three blasts of venery,'

“ The most remarkable of all the entertainments was the hunt in the hall, Through the unmirthfal silence of our time, methought, was flung, when the Huntsman came in with his winding horn, dragging in with him a cat, a fox, a purse-net, and nine or ten couple of hounds? The cat and the That note was in LOUISE's voice, so musically clear, fox’ were both tied to the end of a staff, and were turned loose into the hall; That echo sounded in her laugh so sweet and so sincere. they were hunted with the dogs, amid the blowing of hunting-horns, and If a blessing to Law's haunts and homes can any way be brought, were killed under the grate!!”-ADDISON's History of the Templars. From such pure lips, such gentle heart, 'twas well it should be sought.

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Again, there is the snob who makes pretence to be a musical enthuSNOBS AT THE OPERA.

siast, and plagues you by his beating time quite audibly and visibly,

often keeping up a noisy pedal accompaniment by stamping with his ELL-BELOVED AND feet. This sort of snob is also a great waggler of his head to the rhythm

SYMPATHISING of the music, and fidgets you by motions like those of the old-fashioned
MR. Punch, blue pot-bellied china figures, which inquiring little boys were sure to

I HAPPEN to be set a-shaking, and finally to smash.
gifted with a musi- Besides, there is the snob whose only music in his soul is that of
cal ear (only one, vulgar music-halls and lamp-blacked nigger minstrelsy. Between the
you notice : folks acts he hums the “ toons," as he most probably would call them,
have seldom two, which are now most popular with snobs of his persuasion, and, if he be
I fancy), and as not sharply checked, will murmur “Walking in the 200" in the
my wife is vain garden scene of Faust.
enough to think In addition to these nuisances, the snob somniferous annoys me by
she has another, snoring in the middle of La ci darem, for instance, and by distracting
we often pay a my attention to his nodding in his stall in a way that seems to threaten
visit and a guinea his tumbling headlong out of it. This stalled-ox is in general a beefy
to the opera. Not sort of person, but truth would not be wanting if I called him a stalled
being swells, we ass.
don't mind owning Then I must denounce the enthusiastic snob who commits the vulgar
that we go to hear outrage of applauding prematurely any singer he admires, and thus
the music, and not robbing sober hearers of the last chords of accompaniment which the
merely to show our composer wrote to put a proper finish to the song: Snobs such as he
selves, and chatter, annoy me by shouting "Bis !” or “ Bravo !” at the instant when a
and be stared at. singer has uttered his last note, without waiting till the music of the
Whatever inter-orchestra has ceased.
rupts our hearing Finally, 1 come to the applausive snob who always applauds at the
we consider a great wrong time, and calls out" By Jove, that's fine!” at what is either
nuisance, and one not especially commendable, or indeed is something worthy rather to
that robs us of a be hissed. This sort of snob is a great swindler in encores, which he
pleasure which we seizes every opportunity to force. At such times he will nudge his

pay for pretty neighbour with his elbow, and incite him to vociferate, and thus tire Ta

dearly and in just the ears of all who wish to keep their hearing fresh. The applausive

ice should enjoy. snob is also pretty certain to be loud in his applause of a loud note, Now, the small talk of the swells is most undoubtedly annoying, but and thus encourage mere shouting in lieu of real song. in a measure one expects to hear it at the Opera, which has ever been There are many other opera-and-concert-haunting snobs, who are regarded as a fashionable lounge. Other nuisances, however, I notice nightly a great nuisance to persons like myself, whose nerves quiver to are increasing, and I think they should be checked. The swells are good music, and when beneath its influence cannot bear much irritabad enough offenders in their way, but in some respects the snobs are tion. Pray, Sir, help to pass an Act for the removal of such nuisances, certainly far worse. Let me describe one or two who have most and prevent the Would-be Critics, and the Lollers, and the Timerecently annoyed me.

thumpers, and the Hummers and the Head-wagglers and the Stampers To begin with, there's the snob who makes believe to be a critic, and the Shouters and the Snorers and Encorers, from disturbing the and who worries me, by whispering to the friend who sits beside him serenity of quiet listeners like

Yours, about imaginary blemishes which he pretends he can detect. While you are drinking in your Patti or your NILSSON with all your eyes

APOLLO SOLON SMITH. and ears, you may overhear him muttering, “That flute's a half-tone flat !” or “Trashy stuff

, this music: won't do after GLÜCK!” Then too there's the snob who pretends he's an habitué, and tries to

Mental Athletic Sports. act the character by lolling in his stall, and listening in a languid way, as though he knew each note of the opera by heart. This snob annoys YESTERDAY was held, on their recently assumed premises, the first his neighbours by giving himself more airs than they will hear from weekly meeting

of the Intellectual Gymnasts, a Society principally the performers, and by his fidgeting in his stall and staring round the consisting of Geologists, and Physiological Philosophers. Several house in the middle of a song, or going out for ices in the middle of eminent and popular Professors, whom it would be invidious to name, an Act,

exhibited the most wonderful capability of jumping at conclusions.

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Scientific Pedestrian. “ Do you FIND ANY FOSSILS A RE?"

favoured with an interview, it would be agreeable to push the box to A. B. C. “ WITH A DIFFERENCE."

bim, and ask him just to see whether his letter were there, while MR. PUNCH begs leave emphatically to dissent from all that has been Mr. Punch filled his pipe. If the said writer had gumption, a glance said, or is going to be said, in favour of the fashionable A.B.C. at the department in which he found

himself might save trouble-the Dispatch Box. In a fatal hour he was induced to obtain one, and he grand and indeed only legitimate object of any invention in these days.

Woa! stop. Mr. Punch patents the idea. bas never had a happy moment since, except when in tranquil sleep. He admits, in fact it is his case, that if you use this thing you can never mislay a letter. That is just it. The comfort of mislaying letters

THE STAGE AT SEA. is known only to him who is expected to answer a hundred per diem. That comfort has been withdrawn from Mr. Punch. It is impossible A PLEASANT addition appears to have been quietly made to the not to avail yourself of the invention, which blandly invites you to Royal Navy. First on a list of announcements of promotions and deposit your Correspondent's letter under its initial, and then there the appointments at the Admiralty, the other day, appeared the following: letter is—and where is your excuse for not replying?. Mr. Punch feels that he shall have to give his box away to some foolishly pedantic person

“Sub-Lieutenant HENRY H. DYKE, to the Sphinx, as supernumerary." who, instead of resenting a letter of any kind, thinks that a civil address The Sphinx, then, is a floating Theatre Royal, managed by the merits a civil reply.

Admiralty, if not under the management of the LORD CHAMBERLAIN. But it occars to Mr. Punch that the invention might be improved. Its boards, or planks, we may suppose, will be largely, though not exA substitute for mere alphabetical arrangement might be provided.clusively, 'devoted to the nautical drama. It is gratifộing to note the Sententiæ ponderantur, non numerantur. Try classification. Will the considerate provision which a truly Liberal Government has thus patentees of the affair, or somebody else, make him a box, divided in instituted for the amusement of our gallant sailors. this way, for letters ? Asses.


Very Private.


Ecumenical Strong Language.


The Saturday Review reasserts the fact, lately reported from Rome, Duns.

Opera-singers. Young Men who want that when a prelate, in debate, suggested that Protestants ought not Editors.

Poor Relations. to have their articles to be classed with infidels, and that they might even possess some Foreign Sovereigns. Q. HER MAJESTY. or sketches inserted, good qualities, a multitude of the Fathers assembled in St. Peter's Gladstone. Royal Family

and won't, he can arose and shouted Hæreticus, hæreticus, omnes damnanus ' eum. Humbugs. S.S. the Pope.

tell them.

Hearing this, which must have sounded to them like very strong lanInvitations.


Zoophytes, (mankind guage, the English Bishops present, as many of them as did not join Kritics. Ungrateful brutes. generally).

in it, might as well have had the nationality to exclaim, in its mild He would, with an infallible instinct, drop each letter as he received reprehension : “ Juramentum, juramentum, quinque solidis multabimini." it (whether he performed the trilling preliminary of a perusal or not) into its proper receptacle. When a writer, un-answered, should be


Printed by Joseph Smith, of No. 24, Holford Square, in the Parish of St. James, Clerkenwell, in the County of Middlesex, at the Printing Otices of Messrs. Bradbury, Evans, & Co., Lombard

Street, in the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of London, and Published by him at No. 85, Pleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, City of London.-SATURDAY, May 18, 1870.

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He who wrote the first article in this Journal, who from its establishment has been its conductor, and whose provident suggestions take effect in the very pages now before the reader, has ceased from this and all other earthly care and labour.

“I, pete cælestes, ubi nulla est cura, recessus,

Et tibi sit, nullo mista labore, quies.”

There is need that this record of his gain, but of grievous loss to those in whose name this is said, should be prepared too early to permit its being aught but a most imperfect and inadequate expression of our love and of our sorrow. The last rite has been this day paid, in the quiet burial-place by the village church, dear to him in his later years, where he was gladdened by the voices of his children, joining in the melodies of the religion never forgotten by him when — and it was often-he had friend to aid, or when, and it was rarely-he had enemy to pardon.

Neither to the mental nor the loving nature of the man whom we are mourning, and shall, while we survive him, mourn, do we attempt to do justice here. We do but inscribe a memorial without which we should reluctantly permit our Journal of this date to issue.

But it is of no stranger that we are speaking to friends known and unknown. For nearly thirty years he has guided this periodical; and few who read it know not something of him, and of the firm, but gentle influence which he exercised as our director. But if this Journal has had the good fortune to be credited with habitual advocacy of truth and justice, if it has been praised for abstinence from the less worthy kind of satire, if it has been trusted by those who keep guard over the purity of womanhood and of youth, we, the best witnesses, turn for a moment from our sorrow to bear the fullest and the most willing testimony that the high and noble spirit of Mark LEMON ever prompted generous championship, ever made unworthy onslaught or irreverent jest impossible to the pens of those who were honoured in being coadjutors with him. of the deep affectionateness of his character, of the kindliness of his counsels, of the brotherly regard in which he held us, of the gracious tact with which he encountered and smoothed away the difficulties incident to work like ours, of his genial nature and of his modesty and self-abnegation, this is indeed a time to think, but not a time to write.

Nearly enough, indeed, of words of him over whose mortal remains the turf is newly laid. We feel that the best homage which we can pay to him who is gone before, the one tribute which, had he foreseen this early summons to his rest, he would have desired or permitted, is to declare our united resolve that, to the best of our ability, our future work for this Journal shall be done in the spirit long and lovingly taught us by the loved and revered friend who has passed to the reward of a noble life.

May 27th, 1870.

He had been absent : but was with us still

In letters, messages of wonted cheer : We drank a quick recovery from his ill;

Asked, and were answered, “He will soon be here." His kindly eyes looked on us from the wall:

In spirit at our board he seemed to sit, Back into bounds too reckless mirth to call,

To quicken seemly fun and decent wit.

Still his wit's weapon like a Knight he bore

Would never poison point, nor polish dim:
And 'twas his pride to teach us so to bear

Our blades as he bore his-keep the edge keen,
But strike above the belt: and ever wear

The armour of a conscience clear and clean.*

Little we thought the time was near at hand,

When we no more should meet those honest eyes : Return no more that welcome blithe and bland,

Take counsel of that spirit, kind and wise !
Death has been frequent in our fellowship :

Where is A'Beckett's Rabelaisian style ;
Where JERROLD's wrath'gainst wrong, and lightning quip;

Where THACKERAY's half-sad, half sunny, smile;
Where LEECH's facile hand and faithful brain,

The truest, tersest, abstract of the time ? All memories! And he that linked the chain,

Now theme of my obituary rhyme ! Never did brethren of the pen owe more

To elder brother, than we owed to him:

The while he sat among us there was none

But felt the kindlier for his kindliness :
Jealousy seemed his genial smile to shun;

Failure was soothed; more modest grew success.
Never self-seeking, keen for others' rise

And gain, before his own, he loved to see
Young wrestlers of his training win the prize,

Nor asked what his part of the prize should be.
His memory will not die out of ours'

For many a year to come: the thought of him, Erewhile associate with our merriest hours,

Will be a sad one, till all thought grows dim. But what our loss to theirs, who with sick hearts

Sit in the darkened house, whence he has past : Till new life shall unite whom death disparts,

Where tears are dried, and grief turns joy at last !

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