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Paul Pry The Reformer of the Age

01/01/1849

Printer / Publisher: G. Johnstone 
Volume Number:     Issue Number: 31
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Paul Pry The Reformer of the Age

Date of Article: 01/01/1849
Printer / Publisher: G. Johnstone 
Address: 12, Russell-court, Brydges-street
Volume Number:     Issue Number: 31
No Pages: 4
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NEW PAUL SERIES. PRY 9 " IT IS A VIRTUOUS ACTION TO EXPOSE VICIOUS MEN."— DRTDBN. si- No. 31.— NEW SERIES.] PUB L I S H E D W E E K L Y. [ PRICE ONE PENNY. AMONG the stale and worn- out amusements of the past win- ter, all of which have, however, vanished one by one, none were more popular than this form of entertainment. We do not, for our own part, see the great charm of such places; but it is very evident that there must be something attrac- tive enough about, them— because Madame Duval's esta- blishment, the next door to the Haymarket Theatre, still continues to draw the habitues, loungers, and denizens of the neighbourhood. We are not going, however, to make a sweeping ce. isure of the people or the place. While at this room, and its like, as might easily he expected, there were scenes and exhibi- tions of the grossest indecency, received with shouts of laughter by the " gentish " and looser sort of shopmen there assembled, and the Egerian nymphs who infest that quarter, there were also pictures formed with very fine effect, grouped from the works of great sculptors, to which we give our cor- dial approbation. We are not prudish, but we will allow no outrage upon decency and common sense to pass un- noticed. " Venus rising from the ocean," considered in itself as a work of art, is of a great and lofty kind, but as represen- ted at the Minerva Hall, take it as you will, and beautiful as it may he, you can think no longer of the power of genius, because the purpose, the glaring immorality of these denuded figures, are beyond all question, open and un- disguised. What is the result? Instead of being a refined amusement, it panders to the depraved taste of the volup- tuary. The wanton attitudes, the bold and shameless gaze, the questionable gesture, all these are intended to have an effect, and while they assist in the furtherance of prostitution and deeper licentiousness, they impress upon the mind thoughts and images still more impure and vicious. He who goes there, seldom comes out a wiser, or a better man. The vicious are only the more confirmed in their guilty career, and the courtezan becomes still more hold and im- modest. Well may we cry, " O temporal 0 mores!" Well may we lament the decay of taste, and mourn over the fall of pure, high, and legitimate amusements. The brothel and the tavern have in all these fatal auxiliaries more stimulants, further excitements, and the black and putrid tide of im- purity, grows stronger day by day. The figure of this Venus, or more properly Aphrodite, ( personated by Madame Duval herself) is after the ancient picture by Apelles, but there is also a sculptured copy of the one by Praxiletes, called the Venus Anadyomene, which represents her as rising from the sea, both of which have a resemblance to each other, save in the material and work- manship. As she rises gradually up, surrounded by gauzy drapery, the whole illusion heightened by the glitter of lights, and the sounds of music, the imagination is at first struck with its beauty, but another moment dispels all, and you look upon a mere woman all but naked, the very " flesh- ings" she wears betraying fearful indiscretion, and a bold temerity. You cease to admire the one, and respect the other, 1 and turning round, find yourself in an audience in which I you may blush to be seen, and you perhaps hasten away j from the spot disgusted with tbe exhibition, and lamenting J how easily a fool and his money may be parted. THE FRAIL SISTERHOOD. P 1 V OIN E. CHAP. in. A M Y S T E R Y. Shortly after, the mother of Madelinette has followed him to the tomb; and the poor girl, then quite a child, has arrived at Paris, where she has been brought up by charity. The age of love, however, has arrived. Madelinette has been told that she is pretty, and that she will be adored. She has listened to ardent declarations and tender words; she has given her heart first to one, then to another, and she is thus become the gay and light- hearted grisette,— the heroine of the Chaumiere balls,— the queen of the Latin Quartier. But, at times, a remembrance intrudes on the gay dreams of Madelinette, and veils her cheeks with sadness— this is the remembrance of her mother. At others, amidst the sounds of the merry conntry dance, amidst the exciting notes of the polka, Madelinette hears a voice, which tells her that this is not the sort of life to which she was destined. — nnd then her cavalier of the ball is astonished nt seeing vanish the thoughtless gaiety of the young dancer; and the guests, at supper, ask her why she replaces on the table her glass, still full of champaign. And at these moments Madelinette weeps, and purses tbe POSES PLASTIQUES. VENUS RISING FROM THE SEA. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE man whose name she has not forgotten, and who has robbed her father of fortune and of life, and herself of happiness! Madelinette is on the point of becoming Arthur's mistress. If she has not already yielded to him, it is that, in the first place, it is good to make oneself desired a little, and next, because these messieurs, the critics, would have visited the piece with their administrative veto, if the marriage at the thirteenth arrondissement had been consummated. There is some merit, besides, on the part of Madelinette, in loving Arthur, and in proving it to him, for, in order to visit the'little chamber of the student, she refuses very bril- liant propositions. An old gentleman, unmarried and rich, Oscar Pliara- mond, makes assiduous court to her, but she replies, " Take that!" to him, with that inimitable gesture of the Parisian gamin, which is performed by applying to the end of the nose the thumb of the right h and, and making the four fingers de- scribe a rapid movement. Rosine, Madelinette's companion, is in a position precisely similar. For the handsome eyes of Frederic, Arthur's friend, she generously declines the seducing offers of M. Hector Charlemagne, another bachelor, as old and equally as rich, as M. Pharamond. As to Arthur, we said just now that he had not a son, lie has less than that, for having foolishly signed a bill of exchange to the order of a - certain Bigorneau of whom he knew nothing, ( and which bill he has not paid,) he is pursued and since the fatal expiration he has concealed his residence from every one, except a few friends, in the hope of escaping from the grasp of the law officers. Fatal illusion ! A great noise is heard on the stairs. Tis some one who has fallen, at the same time a plaintive voice calls the master of the lodgings. Arthur opens the door. Madelinettc and Bosine . hastily conceal themselves in the alcoye at the.. extremity 0f the theatre. Arthur enters with a new personage who is leaning on his arm, and whose comic appearance makes the whole theatre ring with laughter. This is a little old man, vain and grotesque, a sort of would- be young man with a light curly wig and tight fitting pantaloons. He has rolled down the staircase, his hat is become a • thorough- bred gibus, his blonde wig has changed its position, his coat has received a split down the back, and his panta- loons are broken at the knees. Athanasius Bobinet, such is the name of this peculiar, has made acquaintance with Arthur in a wine- shop, and every where pursues him with a recital of his lucky hits as he calls them. On this evening, he is come to propose to the young men to sup each at his own expense, and to go afterwards to the Prado; for, despite his rheumatisms, Athanasius Robinet at- tends the balls, and swears to all the grisettes that he thinks them adorable, and that he will make their fortune if they will make him happy. As it is impossible for us to follow, step by step, tho very complicated intrigue of the piece, under paiu of being prolix, obscure, and wearisome, let us at once inform our readers that Messsieurs Oscar Pharamond, who courts Madelinette j Hector Charlemagne, the follower of Rosine; Bigorneau, Arthur's creditor; and, lastly, Athanasius Robinet, the soi- disant friend of the same young man— are all one antl the same person, wher continually changes, in name and cha' racter. The next morning at day break, Athanasius, or rather Bigorneau, is to arresthis debtor by a bailiff previously warned and expressly posted at the door of the Prado. The young girls, who have recognized their common adorer; quit their retreat, disguised and masked, and puzzle the hoary headed seducer whom they overwhelm with the most ferocious sarcasms. They sup, Arthur and Frederic dress. Robinet is lodged in a great coat; the five personages depart for the Prado and the curtain falls on the conclusion of the first act. All this, as we may see, is neither very new nor skilfully planned. Pivoine however is so bewitching as a boatman that the public again applaud. " We are not plotting," replied Paul, " we are discoursing." " And of what, if you please? Pretty sort of company, indeed, you villanous monster!" " There now, just hear. how she talks! why we were speak- ing of M. Duranton, of the Jus Romanorum, of the Institutes, and of the third year's lectures. " All my eye! you talk of the law- college, as I do of danc- ing ! I'll lay a wager yon were on the subject of the quali- ties and perfections of that affected little Pivoine, a craft who has only the beauty of the devil, and is as barefaced as I know not what. Alt, I know you, my gay masks." " But, I assure you—" " Just hold your tongue, ' tis much better than telling lies. Stay, speaking of this Pivoine, there is her monsieur just entering a stage box." " You know him, Florence?" " My God! He was pointed out to me the other day." " Where was that?" " At a ball." " You goto the ball then without me?" " An affair of great importance, certainly! It was at the house of a friend!" Let ns allow the conversation to proceed, which ere long degenerated into a sort of conjugal dispute, and pay some attention to the new comer who is to play a very important part in our recital. Arsene Baehu, for in fact it was him, took his place in a Ikage box which had hitherto remained empty, and situated precisely opposite those occupied by the artist and the stu- dents. Arsene Bachu, a'ytfung man of four or five and twenty, tall, pale, his features dull and rmsignificant and his hair long and straight. His toilette was ridiculously recherche. He wore straw- coloured gloves, he had wide wristbands turned up over the^ cuffs of Jus coat, and he almost perpetuallyjnade use of an immense double eyeglass suspended from a black ribband, and bobbing from his breast at each of his move- ments. ( To be continued in our next.') THE ISLINGTON EEL- PIE HOUSE. " For rats and mice, and such small gear, Hath been Tom's food this many long year." CLERICAL INTIMIDATION AND INTOLERANCE CHAPTER V. THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN. Fra Diavolo was so bewildered and fascinated by the un- paralleled charm and grace of Pivoine, that he remained with gaping mouth and staring eyes, fixed on the stage, long after the fall of the curtain; and it was only when the last ap plause was lost in the confusion of general conversation that he decided upon crying out three distinct times, and with all his lungs. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! All was astonishmert, they looked and laughed, and after having applauded Pivoine, they applauded Fra Diavolo. The occupations of the preceding interlude, however, had been resumed in the box adjoining that of Era Diavolo. Mademoiselle Florence eat her matrons ^ aees, jand threw into the pit bits of sweatmeat, to the great delight of the young gamins. Mademoiselle Minette, after having devoured the Entr'acte ( the journal) had purchased the Evening Monitor, and was soon absorbed in its semi- official columns. Paul drew his friend, Alfred, into a corner of the box, and said to him in a low tone and confidential manner:— " Sapristi! What a handsome girl then!" " Ah, yes!" replied Alfred, " ah,; yes ! " " What a head!" " What eyes!" " Oh! the fact is they are really magnificent." " Eyes that are seen no longer! * " Eyes that are not seen at all!" " And the mouth! ' Tis something like a mouth!" " Don't speak of it, my friend, you electrify me." " And the hair! Did you observe the hair?" " It is not false, I have never encountered its fellow." " I'll answer for its authenticity, root by root." " And her waist then!" " So small and so round! so fine and so shapely!" " We can see at the first glance that she has other charms besides those she displays." " And it is plain that paint is as completely a stranger to her, as to the Venus Callipyus herself." " Faith! we must admit that this conceited Arsene is a very lucky fellow." " To have, for a mistress, the prettiest girl in Paris." " He who has no pretention to beauty!" " And who thinks himself cram- full of wit." " Though he is totally bereft of it." " Luckily it is possible to carry off his Pivoine from him." " And that nothing is easier—• " And that it shall soon be done!" At these words, which very clearly expressed their mu- tual thoughts, and sketched out a scheme for [ future rivalry, the two friends exchanged a distrustful glance. But at this moment Mademoiselle Florence abandoned for an instant her bag of glace's chestnuts, and turning to the young men, said:— " Come, what is it you are plotting there, yonder ^ in tlije corner? In another part of our paper, we address a clergyman, upon a topic, to some extent known to our readers. This regards a subject, still more vital and important, where the aggressor is a clergymen also, thus intimidating a Cardigan elector from voting. He writes to an elector, J. W. Fowler, tenant under the Rev. H. D. Morgan, incumbent of the living, ( nothing but livings for these, and fat one's too), of Castle Hedingham, Essex,— he writes to him, we say, in this manner,— " Dear Sir,— I am sorry to send you the enclosed notice to quit. When a tenant votes against his landlord the good- fcllowsliip which ought to exist between them ceases; and it is my father's wish as well as my awn that in future no one should hold under us who will not support our parliamentary interest.— Yours truly, T. MORGAN." Here ist a gross and most audacious wrong, committed upon a free man. An elector is qualified only by the amount of taxes, & c., he pays. By paying these, he is at liberty to vote in favour of the man, whose politicial princi- ples, he takes to be soundest and best. If all did as he, we should be a nation of Helots. " OUR" Parliamentary interest too! what a phrase! what a mouthful! Did this insolent, upstart, annihilate millions of the unenfranchised in his own mind, and put himself, and ( our) interest, as the prominent, important, grand national concern? Was the Parliament of England formed for him, that he should be so far incorporated with it, as to make it our interest. A man who would dare to utter words of such an insulting character, would be kicked out of hearing, as an impertinent intruder. We indignantly record our con- tempt and our hatred, against such an atrocious attempt, to frustrate the right of will, that God, and the laws of the land, have given to all Englishmen. These black- coated gentry, are evidently going mad, and playing a suicidal game for themselves. So much the better. The case is now before Parliament, Mr Eowler having petitioned for redress. CURIOSITY. The extent to which human curiosity can be carried is to be found complete in one man only, Lord Harry Brougham. One wonld have thought he had gone through a complete circle of the sciences, but his ardour in the pursuit of know- ledge in any case, and to every extent is utterly unparalleled. A very piquant case of Crim Con was brought before his Lordship in the HonSe of Lords this last week, in which the noble Lord appeared to take a deep, and certainly a very marked interest. Mary Fricker, was examined, in the course of which there occurred the following morceaux. Lord Brougham when he " wishes to know" is merciless:— Lord Brougham: How do you know that there was a criminal intercourse taking place between them, woman? Did you look through the keyhole? The witness: No; but she knew it from the conversation which had passed between them. Lord Brougham: Well, what did they say; what did they talk about? The witness hesitated, but presently said that on one oc- casion she- heard her master tell Mrs. Cripps that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever kissed, except Lady Lord Brougham: Why, woman, it was in the dark— how coidd your master possibly tell in the dark that she was a most beautiful woman? The witness. Why, the captain had a light in his room, my lord, and so it wa3 not in the dark. Lord Brougham": But how could you hear what they were talking about ? Did they talk loud, or did thejy not speak in a low whisper? The witness replied that it was not in a low whisper, and that it was loud enonghfor her to hear what was said. Lord Brougham: Are you a married woman? The witness gave an answer in the affirmative. Lord Brougham; Then don't you know, as a married wonuin, that persons, under the circumstances and in the position in which you say these persons xoere, always speak in a very loiv tone of voice? It would have been delectable to have heard the learned Lord dilate further upon these sensual mysteries. It was a jest to his lordship doubtless that in his examination he was compelling a woman to go to the length she did ; in fact he evidently knew more about it than herself, although a " mar- ried woman," and supposed to have experience in theSo things. Punch has got a clever caricature of " what he must do next," and represents him standing on his head. In fact we may suppose that taking in the display of sagacity recorded in this last incident; that this will complete and finish him up. Ho must then evaporate and be seen no more. No such thing. If Lord Harry Brougham does not astonish the world by something still more new, still more astounding, we shall lie ready to eat " fish- hooks soaked in train oil." We are very fond of Islington, and often when Mrs. P. P. is out, or otherwise engaged, steal away and regale ourselves with a walk there, both for our own gratification, and that ot our readers, for whom we are always on the look- out for something to edify and amuse: for a long time we observed a pie- shop, standing in solitary glory, opposite to the Angel Inn, some time after, we were startled at the apparition of another, next door but one. We pitied the natives and ventured into one of the shops, the result of which visit we detailed in an early number, and long it was before we recovered our peace of mind: but last week we chanced to pass that neighbourhood again, and happening to cast our eyes in that direction, were absolutely overwhelmed with horror at the vision of a third, next door but one to the second, the three divided by a hairdresser's, and ham- and- beef shop, and glaring with sinister aspect like the witches in " Macbeth," all apparently doing a deal of business. Struck with the circumstance, we set about making diligent enquiry, and after some trouble elicited the following facts:— That there was not a dog. in the neighbourhood, saving a few that were chained up; that a cat was not to be met with in one house out of twenty: that kittens and puppies were rarities eagerly sought for : and that horseflesh had taken a rapid rise from threepence to fourpence per pound; besides seve- ral other statistics equally interesting to the mind of an en- quiring genius, including the singular disappearance of a defunct donkey, formerly the property of an itinerant vege- table merchant. The question so often propounded, flashed across our minds, " Did you ever see a dead donkey?" and we said to ourselves, though they are not seen they may be eaten. We had not the moral courage to enter again these emporiums of doubtful provisions, but took a lunar at the proceedings going on within from the pave where we stood; our imagination conjured up the tales told to us in child- hood, of the mysterious disappearance of babbies, and of the man who was converted into sausages; these stories and others of a similar nature, rushed across our fevered brain, but still we stood, held as it were to the spot with an invi- sible hand, watching those who were indulging their horrible appetites, and the calm and placid security with which they were eating. Truly is it said—" Where ignorance is bliss, ' tis folly to be wise." The persons of those also who were vending the pies struck us, their paste- like, and flowery ap- pearance; one in particular, who was serving in the newest shop, appeared to us like a living monument of dough; surely, we murmured to ourselves, they are neyer rash enough to eat their own pies: but then we remembered never having met with an individual who had seen a pie- shop pro- prietor cat his own productions. Our thoughts becoming insupportable, we rushed away, but being unable to accom- plish the walk home, and regardless of expense, we dived into a Hansom, as the maddened horse, urged by the cab- man, turned furiously down the City- road, our nerves ( we arc very nervous) received another blow by observing the following announcement, which we read with horror, in the window of an ale- house, a few doors from the " Blue Coat Boy" Tavern:—" A glass of ale and a galvanic shock for twopence!" Now we have heard of a glass of ale and a sandwich for foul- pence, also of a glass of porter and a sandwich for threepence, and at Cann's in St. Giles's, we once saw an- nounced, " meat, soup, bread, and potatoes," for the same amount, but a glass of ale and a galvanic shock for twopence, is quite out of our comprehension. Again we thought to ourselves, either the Islingtonians are lunatics, or the pro- prietor of the ale- house is an escaped Bedlamite. With this conclusion we hurried to our virtuous bed, agreeing with Hamlet, that, " There are more things in Heaven and earth, than are dream't of in our philosophy." REFUGE FOR THE " DESTITUTE" " DISCARDED." AND When a man has been abused and blackguarded, and deservedly so, for several days running, in which everybody joins with the most cordial unanimity, it must be admitted that there are good grounds for such a procedure. A child is often scolded, well whipped, and, when it roars out, it is stifled with conciliatory kisses, and choked with " cakes and ale," in order to quiet it again. Lord Gough has received a considerable share of censure for his stupidity and hard- headed obstinacy;— but the killing of a few hundreds more or less, through his blunders, is a matter important to the muster- roll, or the recruiting- serjeant alone. He is re- called-^- synonymous with being dis- charged. He is to be made a peer— for what? For com- mitting blunders that every one took so much trouble to prove, and every newspaper paraded its official despatch, to shew that the man was not in a fit state to hold his place— and yet he must be made a peer! Very well— so be it. This peerage, then, is a refuge for discarded and destitute old Generals, who are of no use either to their Queen or to their country ( everybody said that Gough was such a man)— and the only fit place they can find for him to shelter his imbe- cility in— is the House of Peers! The value of " privilege" cannot be much, and the aris- tocracy of " rank," must be a very flimsy and dubious affair, when to stop a man's grumblings or to prevent his asking indiscreet questions, he is raised up to Such a nominal height. It is a matter of buttons after all. The three grades, of the vulgar Tom, and the familiar Tommy, to the genteel and distant Thomas, are illustrative of these pseudo- honours, and express their real value in as complete a manner as any herald in the college, aided by the " Star" Chamber " gents," are capable of doing. It's all humbng! ^ BELPER.— Paul Pry's compliments to tho young ladies of Belper, and makes bold to apprise them of a fresh arrival, into their rural little town, of a youthful " Cambrian," who, through his many virtues, will have a deep claim upon their sympathy and attention. His affections are as yet " free as air;" and notwithstanding the many violent attempts made upon the citadel of his heart, it has hitherto been found im- pregnable; indeed, lie has been heard " thinking aloud," with " perfect sincerity" doubtless, that copious darts will at all times return into him void, unless they be ( to use a common phraseo logy) tipped with the real " Californian metal." A deaf and dumb person being asked to give his ideas of forgiveness) took a pencil and wrote—" It is the sweetness which flowers yield when trampled upon." " Why are you so melancholy?" said the Duke of Marlborough to a soldier, after the batile of Blenheim. " I am thinking," replied the man, " liow much blood I have shed for sixpence." 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE PAUL ADVISES Mr. L— d, of Park- street, Camden- town, to' stick more to his brother's business, it does not look well to be playing at skittles in the middle of the day. W. B— n, of East- street, Globe- road, Mile- end, to mind his own business, and not attend to other peoples' affairs, also to stop at home of a night and take care of his wife and family. Miss J— s, the chemist's daughter, very near Drury- lane and High Holborn, not to fancy all the men are in love with her, also to pay more attention to her mother during her ill- ness. The young man at J— n D— y, butcher, near Waterloo- street, not to court the cook at N— s, on the Mall, or he will have the carrier's daughter after him, he is closely watched, so he had better look out, or Paul will tell a long tale about him. The corpulent actress of the Grecian Saloon, not to dance in the ballet for when she begins to kick about her legs, the whole audience laughs at her. H— y M— r, of Seymour- place, not to think so much about the red faced girl of John- street, New- road, and not to ex- pose his family affairs. T— r Ei B— n of Portland- place, South Clapham- road, not to strut about as if all the place belong to him, nor to think every girl is in love with him. Mr. J— n F— x at the Feathers, Lambeth- walk, not to pay quite so much attention to the young woman in King- street, but look more after the one in tbe country. Reform, my dear fellow, or Paul will visit again. The dirty snob, of Bride- street, LiverpOol- road, Islington, to attend more to his business, and not go so often to a certain beer- shop at the corner. G. W— d, of Snow's- fields Bermondsey, not to interfere with other people's business so much. How about the estate in Derbyshire and the servant maid. W. B— h, of Counter- street, Borough- market, not to brag so much about his father's intention of puting him into busi ness & c. also not to imagine that certain young ladies in the neighbourhood, are at all ambitious of serving potatoes at three farthings per pound. Miss M— s, Artificial flower maker of Jewin- street, Alders- gate- street, not to be seen drinking gin with a certain young man near Smithfield. J— n A— n, better known as Bull's Head the Blacksmith of Maidenhead- court, not to poke his nose into other peoples business, but mind his own. How about the poor old man out of the workhouse. W. T— t, better known as Moses, the dirty little snob of Bull's- head- passage Wood- street, not to trouble his head about other people's business but mind his own. How about the half- crown a week. The worthy host of the Feathers, Hungerford Market, to remember a " a still tongue makes a wise head." and keep his sorrows to himself, as his customers go to his house to drown care, and not to be overwhelmed and listen to all his troubles. A little less grumbling and a smile instead of a frown will bring more money to the till. KENT.— S. M— y, of Hull- place, Water- lane, Dartford, to learn to wash, cook, and mend stockings, in preference to dressmaking. Misses K— 11 and F. K— 11, of Stockwell- street, Greenwich, to have a little respect for themselves, and to think of Charlton Fair. The old fat, pug- nosed, Paddy N— 1, not far from Garden- row, Deptford, to stay at home, and mend his umbrellas, instead of running after his neighbour's wives, and do not boast so much about respectable married women, for if you do their husbands may talk to you in a way that would not be pleasant. Reform you old sinner. E. H— n, the blacksmith's boy, not to tell fibs, nor say tbat he knew the bar- maid at tbe Glos'ter Coffee- house long be- fore A— r knew aught about her, nor to tell people that the aforesaid bar- maid is dying iu love with him. The skipper of No. —, Waterman Woolwich- boat, to pay more attention to his better half, on board, and less to the widow of Pimlico. Jack C— r, alias Modest John, G— e S— e, and their reck- j less friend, Dick K— k, of Greenwich notoriety, not to be seen with so many girls every evening; and not to kick up such precious rows in the street, whilst in a state of beer. Would Jack or George like to purchase another doll's bedstead? SURREY.— T. P— y, of Ararat- lane, Richmond, to help his wife to turn her mangle, and not frequent a certain tap, scandalizing his neighbours. Miss M, P—, of Lower Tooting, to assist her poor indus- trious mother, instead of gossipping from door to door. Mrs. H—, stay- maker, of Red Lion- street, Richmond, not to imagine all the young men of Richmond are about drown- ing themselves for love of her. That know- nothing waiter, or nobby potman, as he proudly calls himself, not to try and take in a poor, little, young girl, but keep constant to the widow, who has most money, and can pay for his idle habits. Take Paul's advice, and you might become master of as good a house as the Rose and Crown, Hampton Wick. Miss H— y, near the Crown and Anchor, Ditton, not to set all the little boys in the parish fighting about her. Mrs. G. P— t, of Whitecross- row, Richmond, not to run. after Ber husband before he leaves his work. Who left the child on the tap- room table, on Easter Sunday? ( Mr. P— r, of Kigston market- place, to be seen a little ol'tener up the London- road, and not sport his nobby head of hair at a certain iron- foundry quite so much. SUSSEX.— Miss J—, of the Royal Crescent, Brighton,'- not to frequent eating- houses so much, but to stick to her young man as she ought. Mr. R— 1, of Upper St. James'- streefc, Brighton, not to allow young girls at his place, courting; or the young men to sit with their arms round the maidens' necks. The fat- headed grocer, of Carlton- hill, Brighton, not to' be seen so often at a certain house in Richmond- square. Paul knows all about the £ 100 you borrowed. How about being let in the hole by S— n ? Mr. C. P— s, of the Marine Parade, Brighton, to join the Teetotal Society ere he again visits Brighton Fair. ESSEX.— The fresh- coloured conductor of Mr S—' s om- nibus, Wanstead, to have his hair cut, and not fancy all the girls are dying for him. How about Sal and the three flounce dresses? R. Q— y not to think he is bully of Hornchurch. Its enough to be bully for Susan, Bobby. Miss H. W— t, of Wanstead, to take pattern by her sister,: and not be seen talking to that flat- faced fellow at the Nuns, Whitechapel. BERKSHIRE.— The cook of the Grove, Coakham, to ba careful, or the doughey, who bas lately lost his wife, may! cook her after his own fashion. W. W— e, green- groccr, of Eton, not to black other peo- i pie's characters by slandering them, for Paul hail heard something abont^ a poor woman and a sovereign. I MissE—, of her Majesty's Arms, New Windsor, to leave off blowing music, or she might repent when the Life Guards leave Windsor. Miss C— e, the butcher's daughter, of Cranford, not to quarrel with her mother so much, and to be more civil to the butcher- boys. LINCOLNSHIRE.— BOSTON.— The « Old Guinea," of Pen- street, not to allow a parcel of girls, from her windows, to stare every passer- by out of countenance. The second Reporter ofthe Morning Chronicle to mind his own business, and let other people's alone. We fear it is not all truth he says regarding the girl at Spilsby. DEVONSHIRE.— TOPSHAM.— The would- be police doc- tor, T— 1, to turn from his wicked ways, and be wise. G. E— d, of the Custom- house, also to reform. Do you know anything about Glos'ter? NORFOLK— NORWICH.— A certain conceited fishmonger, not many miles from the King's Head, Stephen- street, to mind his own business. Paul knows a great deal. S— e, who frequents the tap of St. Stephen a great deal, not to tell so many fibs in company, when he goes to a cer- tain house. An Artillery- man, with one stripe on his arm, who frequents the Gentleman's- walk. Not " to fancy every young female he meets is in love with him. The Runner, alias the Shaver- bov, at Mr. D— m, linen- draper's shopman, Corn Exchange- street, not to put so much oil on his hair. Paul thinks it looks bad to see the grease rnn dowH his neck. The proprietors of pleasure- gardens to engage for the summer evenings the Russell Family, for the introduction of their Sax horn and Cornopean brass band, it is the best round Norwich for many miles. Paul had the pleasure of hearing it. DORSETSHIRE.— Mr. S— t, sen., not to be seen coming from the paint- shop so late at night. It is a pity but that his wife knew a little more of his tricks. YORKSHIRE.— Mrs. T— n, over Mainlidge- bridge, not to tell fibs, and to look after her daughters a little more. GLASGOW.— A gent, called D— d M'N— n, employed in the office of Messrs, C. T— t and Co., not to think so much of himself— not to smoke so much in his landlady's dining- room— and above all, not to boast so much of his being a native of P— h. A young man, called T— s S— 1, alias Foxy, not to attend Madame Wharton's Tableauxs quite so often. Young S— w, one of the sons of old S— w, the carpet ma- nufacturer, not to enter the married state so soon. He is too young, and in a few months will patronise Miss M— k's more than ever. Dr. G— r, the quack, to dress his daughter better, and spend less money on himself. Miss M— k, when she walks about nodding to all the gents, not to suppose people think her respectable. PAUL WISHES TO KNOW If a certain gentleman, deeply versed in levers, residing in Wellington- street, Goswell- road, does not require the main spring of his memory " looking into;" as it has not, by near, kept time with his Newark friends. How long a Police- station has been opened in Turnpike- row, Stratford; and whether the widow is acting as governess to the young policeman B— n. IfT. H— d, the bloated gravedigger, of Eltham, Kent, does take his bottles of paltry British wine to the vicarage, when he is too drunk to attend a funeral. Beware Mr. Fat Belly, or Paul will unfold a tale about the property at his father's death. If Mr. R. B— m, ef Bishop- lane, Hull, will have the kindness to inform us if his removal from. the small to the large house, in the same street, answers his expectations; do the private rooms meet with the anticipated success ? We should be very sorry to learn that Mr. B. had not succeeded in trebling his receipts for private accommodation and gen- teel lodgings. MARONE; or, THE WINE OF LOVE CHAPTER VI. ( Continued from our last.) THE ATTACK IN THE ALMOFFRT. THE man on hearing these welcome words, turned round, and as Passion looked upon his hideous face, the youth was at once assured that he had not courted danger without meeting it; the moment he beheld that countenance, he was assured that he saw an assassin, and simulated intoxication to aid him in this un thought of predicament; his step was slightly unsteady, but much as he had drank, he was only fresh, not tipsy, and cool aud collected as- he ever was in his life, but perhaps the idea of imminent and instant danger, contributed to sober him the more effectually. " Show you the way to the Abbey, sir?" said the man in a thick, husky voice, " Yes sir, come along o' me sir, and I'll show you, sir." The obsequious civility of the ruffian was like the purring of a wild cat about to leap on its prey. The only notice Passion took of it was to catch hold of the man's right arm, with tipsy familiarity, and say, " come then, old fellow, and I'l stand— hie— stand something to drink." The man appeared surprised at this act,— not only surprised but strange to say, though he had two companions near at hand, who had noticed all this, but who kept in the shadow, he absolutely felt a kind of alarm stealing over him. The utter absence of all fear which Passion exhibited— the singu- lar confidence— the air of refinement and self- possession— startled him more than any show or expression of defiance possibly could. Because this ruffian was one of that atrocious caste whose blasphemy, blustering, and cruelty make up for true physi- cal courage; it was the true courage that the young man felt as a natural quality inherent in him, which quelled the ostentatious courage of the bully. Not only that the man was a denizen of the Almonry, well known to the police, a body but just begiuning to be established; but there was a possibility tbat some undivulged crime might be known to this stranger, antl that this might be some trap to ensnare him. And yet, he thought, it was a strange thing that the young man should come to a neighbourhood where he was an ap- parent stranger. He had asked his way to the most well- known part of Westminster, and tbey were now going in an opposite direction, and this with a confidence on the part of Passion, which, if feigned, must be only the more feared. In the meantime, as the pair advanced along, they came to a crossing, and traversed it, and there met face to face the two amiable friends of the conductor, who had followed on the opposite side of the road. The right hand of the young man was in the pocket of his coat as they met, while his left was as yet in its original position, affectionately wound round the right arm of his treacherous guide. He still assumed the air of intoxication, or of being a little flustered; but his keen eye never passed a movement of the two he now met, or of the man by whose side he walked. " Why, blow me, Gaffin," cried one of them, in affected astonishment, to his comrade, " if here isn't handsome Jack, wot's got a friend along o' him;— now, wot's the news, Blow- fire?" This speech, as the reader easily comprehends, was ad- dressed to the guide, who received these titles with the mo- desty of a man entitled to stars and garters, with their ac- companying honours; and he therefore made reply— " There aint nuffing new under tht sun, Squizzly, as you must have know'd long afore this—" " Blow me if there aint, though; it ' nd be werry new for me to have sich a friend as you have," replied Squizzly, the first speaker, and thereby indicating Passion, " wot has got lots of tin, and is ready to stand a drop for two poor coves as is hard up." You're a nice young feller, you are," was the reply of Blowfire, or Handsome Jack, to a stout, short, brawny ruf- fian, with a mouth like an annual lease, and a beard as black as a coal; " will you never mend your manners? I'm on'y a- showin' him the way to the Abbey." " Oh, is that all?" interrupted the third; werry well, we're a- going that vay ourselves; so lead the genTum, if you please." Gaffin added to this a bow of mock solemnity, that would have made Passion laugh, had it not been for the dangerous predicament he discovered himself to be in, and out ot which he could only hope to extricate himself by tact and coolness. " Not— not so; no, no," said he, with the obstinacy of a half- drunken man; " yon show the way, and if we can get anything to drink as we go, why well have it, my boys,"— and he slapped Gaffin onthe shoulder as he spoke,—" ha! ha! we'll have it." The little man laughed— they all laughed; but their laugh was so villanous and discordant that Passion felt his heart grow cold, there was such an odour of murder in it. Gaffin, in a sort of mocking tone, said—" I say, Han'sum Jack, your friend is a merry genT'um, he is,— he'll stand a drop— ha! ha! ha!— and aint we the lads as'll refuse it? oh no!"— and then, after this negative affirmation, he with his compa- nion fell behind; but the young man, still holding, and even leaning with tbe greatest confidence npon Blowfire's arm, stepped back, and said in a cold, imperious tone—" Go first, I do not like any one behind me; do you understand that?" Had the young man been speaking to his groom or valet, and intimating to them something in their conduct with which he was displeased, adding also that if it occurred again they should be discharged, he could not have been more imperious— more decided. " Veil, s'elpme!" ejaculated Gaffin, beginning to grow rusty; and imagining that the lone spot they were in would suit their purpose best, he turned sharply round, when look- ing on Passion, with his calm face, on which the pale lamp shone, and seeing that his right hand was moving in his <; oat pocket, he hesitated a moment. " Stow it, Gaff, stow it," grumbled Squizzly; " wot's the use of keeping us out chaffing here sich a blessed cold night? shew the way, will you? or else cut along." " Oh, if the genT'um has a fancy, why, in course, I'm agreeable," was the answer; and taking hold of his com- rade's arm, he walked on. " I say, Squizzly," asked Gaffin, after a while, as the hear- ing of the youth," sharpened by danger, drank all in, while his companion still walked along,—" I say, Squizzly, do you think he has the shiners?" " I believe you, my boy— pretty canaries in a green silk puss, and no mistake," was Squizzly's metaphorical an- swer." " Well, now, I'm puzzled, and so's Blowfire," observed Gaffin; " do you think he's lushy enough, or do you think he's a- gammonin' of us?" " I can, t tell," answered Squizzly, " but I think he's got a clicker in his coat." " I thought so, by Jingo!" exclaimed Gaffin; " and I'll tell you wot," he added in a more cautions whisper, " I don't think he's no more lushy nor you or me— there now!" and like Brutus, he " paused for a reply." •' Then we must he wider awake, that's all, and keep cool; he's a small shaver in limbs, but these chaps have such a ' tarnal lot of pluck in ' em. ' Tell you wot," continued Squizzly, more confidentially, " we must get him into—" But Passion had heard enough: the dreariness and in- creasing narrowness of the streets— the stormy night— the dismal houses— the murderous plan— and the decision they were arriving at— made him imagine it was high time to end the interview; but how to get away! He could easily run from them, but where? He might fall into a danger more fatal, because it was less calculated, and less known; and besides, his courage revolted from that course: he there- fore suddenly halted, and said—" I'll tell you what, my friends, I've an idea that we sha'n't reach the Abbey, the way we're going, to- night." " Why?" said Blowfire laconically, stopping short also. Messrs. Gaffin and Squizzly also halted. " Because I fancy we are going from itt and I mean to re- turn," said Passion. " Gammon!" and as Blowfire spoke, he closed upon Passion, and suddenly seized him by the right arm. The two other wretches immediately stepped forward to aid him; but ere they came near, with terrific force, and in an incredi- ble quickness of time, Passion had kicked the heels of his guide from under him, who fell on the back of his head, senseless on the pavement. " Hallo!" shouted Gaffin, " this won't do, this—" but the words were stifl, ed by a blow that shook the strong teeth in Gaffin's jaws to their foundation; and the fellow, who was also a pugilist by profession, reeled several paces, and Squizzly, seeing this, held back. " To be continued in our next.) BOOKS RECEIVED. Conceit. A Satire. By Alfred Highflyer Wigan. The Wife. A Farce. By Alfred Bunn. The Adventures of King Empty Head. A Novel, in 3 vols. By Henry Farren. The Amazon's Triumph; or, the Pleasure of Pleasing. By Mrs. Brougham. Used up. A New Version. By Eagle Bricky Rouse, Esq. Jealousy; or, the Hardships of Marriage. By Mrs, John Parry. What's In a Name? A Romance, in 2 vols. By Mrs, Johnstone lale Mrs. Gerrislt. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE LETTER- BAG. To Paul Pry, Esq. THE DRESS CIRCLE OF OUR THEATRES. DEAK PAUL,— As you are one of the most caustic censors of public morals, perhaps you will allow me to call your at- tention to what I cannot " but think an indelicacy of which our fair countrywomen are frequently guilty. I allude to the so- frequent fashion of wearing in full- dress, gowns, which afford a tempting and exciting view of some of their most beauteous charms. The time was, when such displays were confined to those unfortunates who in half- naked negligence, crowded the slips or paraded the saloons of our theatres; hut now that unhappy class exhibits a modest decency, com • pared with the meretricious displays to be seen in dress boxes, and hall rooms. Take an instance — One evening I strolled into the dress boxes of Theatre. Soon after I had taken my seat, two ladies were ushered into the same box with me; the one a beauty of George the Fourth's style " fat, fair, and forty," the other evidently her daughter— a finely formed girl, whom some 18 summers had just ripened into the full development of womanhood. Having just descended from their carriage, their shoulders were enveloped in visites; but no sooner were they seated, than the elder threw off that covering, and displayed a blaze of charms, which dazzled me from the suddenness of their exposure. Imagine a vo- luptuous woman of the age I have mentioned, attired in a black satin dress, contrasting strongly with the fairness of plump, smooth shoulders— I will not say of snowy whiteness, but bearing that peculiar tinge of ruddiness, which bespeaks an aptness for the sports of Venus. Her broad expanse of shoulders separated by a deep ridge was naked below the arm- pits. But how shall I describe in modest terms the front view that met my gaze. Two white and polished semi- globes, whose exuberance was confined by stays cut so low, as not to conceal their fair proportions, rose and fell in vo- lnptuous magnificence, and my heroine, conscious of her beauty, was not chary of its display. Now as she laughed at some comic incident, each swelling orb vibrated against the loose dress with wild and unequal energy, or again undulated gently like a calm sea swept by the light summer breeze. Soon her companion, dropping her shawl, showed that the maternal example had not been lost upon her. Her dark hair floated in waving ringlets upon shoulders of virgin whiteness, glistening with the dew of a gentle perspiration, while her low dress revealed the summits of two swelling semi- globes of snowy whiteness, and most exquisite firm- ness and shape. She leaned forward to speak to mamma, and how shall I dare to describe the scene. Now Paul, are these displays on the part of the " mothers and daughters" of England, consistent with decency or pro- priety. They might suit the atmosphere of Parisian theatres, bnt even there such a scene as I have mentioned, could scarcely be witnessed. I may some day trouble you with a few remarks on the demoralising influence of this style of dress in connection with Balls. I am, & c., A CONSTANT READER. TO THE " REVEREND" EDWARD POWYSS, RECTOR or BUCKNAI. L AND BIGNALL, STAFFORDSHIRE; A Clergyrhan toho swears " by his God.'" and beats a poor woman of 64 over the head with a great stick! REVEREND SIR,— You are one of a brace of worthies i ( who, because you have forgotten your own self- respect, do not deserve to be spoken to with respect) that I intend to hold up to the public as specimens of the moral regenerators of our age. Insolent, full- fed, purse- proud, contemptuously overbearing, and tyrannically cruel, you first call upon you men's angry comments, and finally their execration. You, a minister of the gospel, which teaches " peace and good- will to all men," thereby including all women, poor as well as rich— you, who have an income of £ 1000 a year, a wholesale plunder wrested from the hard hands of labour, you, who are competent to be sent as overseer to the " slave states "— you, who have disgraeedyour • cloth ' by your bru- tality, have been " had up" before the magistrates, and fined £ 5 with costs, on the following charge. A poor woman aged 64, was unlucky enough to owe you some money for tithes—( this very occurrence par parenthese should form a sufficient pretext for abolishing a revenue, which supports in indolence such manless ruffians as you are). You called once, and refused to wait. You called again after sending two men, and she, to make a long story short, was fool enough to trust you with former receipts which you pocketed— as felonious an act as ever was committed by any poor, petty larceny rascal, who wants a loaf of bread— be - cause it left her open to the chance of being again compelled to pay twice over; she feared this, for a clergyman can no longer be considered as possessing more honour than any other— the race is degenerating, and their names become linked to infamous acts. Your reply was, " I swear hy my GOD I'll not give them back." Your God! Did you abso- lutely believe in your own adjuration? What followed"? She attempted to stop your exit, when you raised your stick, and struck her a violent blow. " The poor old creature began to cry between pain and fear." There is a depth of pathos in this short sentence, that almost annihilates you, that at all events makes you unutterably a brute. Do you wish indignant men to turn round, and looking upon the bloated proportions of the stupendous ecclesiastical edifice ( existing hy OUR toleration alone) and set to work with one will— heart, and hand, to overthrow it, and yoar- like with it? It is you and such as you, who bring the re- ligion of the land into contempt. It is you who make the name of the church synonymous with such incidents that would stain the character of a convicted criminal, however black it might be. You struck her over the head, till the scalp was separated to the extent of half an inch, and blood flowed copiously. The wound was nothing much, but the atrocious outrage upon every sentiment that man or woman ought to respect, is almost beyond the reach of words. The law of the land was absolutely outraged iu the deci- sion of the magistrates ( before whom the case was brought) presided over by the Rev. S. Sneyd. There was no more right or propriety in such a conclusion as they came to, than there was in your appropriating the old woman's property to yourself. You ought to have been imprisoned, Sirrah! and cooled your courage in a cell, mortifying your pride of life with bread and water. You teach humility! It is too sublime a doctrine for your shallow comprehension. Do not take my expletives to be libellous; you are too far beyond the possibility, of that my woman- beating friend, and I am only doing all Ipossibly can, to give publicity to such con- duct as yours; for I, Paul, detest inhumanity, I detest cowardice, I detest drones like you, who fatten on the land, and have not the common sense to curb your pampered passions. You are detestable enough already, with your in- cumbrances of a £ 1000 a year, why seek to add to the con- tempt men bear you? Yours, & c., PAUL PRY. To Paul Pry, Esq. Glasgow, 29th May, 1849. DEAR PAUL,— I have now been in Glasgow for sometime, and think I am entitled to say something about its peculiari- ties. Glasgow is a great place, no doubt, and what is more, it is a hypocritical one, for if you happened to arrive in its streets on a Sunday forenoon, you would think it was peopled by saints, hut at 11 o'clock P. M. of the same day, the scene is changed, the mock garb of godliness is withdrawn, and Glasgow becomes a very hell. Amongst its other peculiari- ties, we must notice its snobs, a fraternity who may he seen parading Buchanan- street, the promenade of this city of chimnies. As a sample of the class, may be mentioned W— e, who dressed to a nicety, paces the street as if all the world were looking at and admiring him. But enough for the present, perhaps at some future time, we may make a further expose' of the lions of this " guid auld toon." We remain, & c., P.& W. PAUL IN THE PLAYHOUSE. DRURY LANE. The appearance of Herr Formes at Drury- lane, has ma- terially added to the attractions of this talented company. As Sarastro in Die Zauherflote, he was unquestionably fine. There was ease and finish in the comic humour that he infused into the part, while his voice triumphed over passages of extreme difficulty. His Caspar was also a very effective performance, and the drinking song was encored three differ- ent times. Much as as we admired Stepan, we admired his successor still more. On Monday evening, Flotow's opera of Martha; or, the Market of Richmond,- was performed with the most splendid success; and we compliment the management upon their commencement of the twelve nights more. Mdlle. Romani was perfect as Martha, and Herr Barhdt as Lyone, sang with great energy and pathos; but the gems of singing and acting were in the hands of Madame Marlow and Herr Formes, their by- play was unique, and was received with laughter and applause. A drinking song was rapturously encored, as were also some of the chorusses. The music was delicious, and the mise en scene left nothing to be desired. The opera, in fact, is well worthy of its continental reputa- tion, and is partly familiar to us, through one or two versions which have been Anglicised. The plot is charming, the scenery lovely, and the music beyond all praise. MARYLEBONE. The Wonder has been revived here, in consequence of Mrs. Mowatt's continued indisposition, which causes Mr. Spi- cer's new play to be deferred for a while longer. The comedy was highly successful. A version of Dombey and Son fol- lowed, and the principal characters in the hands of Miss Fanny Vining, Messrs. Lee and Johnstone, were excellently filled. SURREY. Mr. Creswick made his debut in the part of Master Walter, a character that Mr. Stuart, at the Haymarket and Olympic, had almost made his own. The comparison is unfavourable to the former gentleman, who, however, was well received, and Miss Mordaunt as Julia, and Mrs. Nesbitt as Helen, relieved the monotony of the piece. CORRESPONDENCE. Every letter for the future, containing advice, must be ac- companied by six postage stamps. DECENCY FORBIDS.— We shall be happy to hear from you again. J. CLower Tooting).— We will thank you to send us a sketch of the notorious house alluded to. With regard to the latter portion of your letter, we will bear it in mind. H. W. F. { Stratford).— To advise any father to get rid of his daughters because they may happen to be somewhat taller than their neighbours, is anything but right. Pause ere you trust your pen to paper again. " Notes on the Poole tea meeting" in our next. ARISTO.— Most deridetfly. Read our first notice. G— e G— y.— The songs cannot possibly be of any service to us, or we would gladly pay you for them. Mr. Duncombe of Middle- row, Holborn, might be induced to purchase them if you woyt to him. Thanks for your kind wishes and your communication. DEMOSTHENES.— We have, and think it serves them justly right. Paul will ever manage to steer clear of all breakers. Mrs. P. and the babies are all well, thank you. P. and W. ( Glasgow).— We shall be happy to receive a letter from you as often as convenient. B. H. Poole).— E* remely obliged for the interest you have taken in us, and ' i{ you can manage to send us an article now and then, or as often as convenient, you wiff be at- tended to. HAPPY JACK.— Send us the particulars, and if we see they are divested of rancour we will publish them. RATTLESNAKE, ( Brighton).— Havethe goodness to understand in sayingthat we cannot pay attention to any letter contain- ing more than one advice, we mean likewise " Wishes to Know;"— it mast be merely one piece of information under either of the above heads. 1' our letter has therefore been destroyed. J. B. L. C. ( Poole).— A friend of ours in Poole, was the cause of our journal being introduced into that locality. We can only insert one advice. Your " trifles" we have inserted also. W. and P. ( Glasgow).— We do not fall into your ideas of love, so would rather destroy them, than insult the major portion of our fair readers by saying there is no such thing as love, Mrs. P., we can assure you, on hearing your lines read, and finding that they were written by a countryman, actually bristled up, and swore by her own long cherished passion, that the fellow who wrote the words was a knave. We had a difficulty in soothing the " gude wife," which was only acWeved by delivering the paper into her hauds, she instantly consigning it, with glistening eyes, to the devouring flames. ADAM PRY, THE YOUNGEE.— Our gude nephew in the north, has our thanks for his offer, which we most gladly avail ourselves of, A MAN OP THE WORLD.— The paper having changed hands, our correspondent is referred to our first notice, to which. for imperative reasons, we are compelled to adhere. TO OUR SUBSCRIBERS. This is to give NOTICE, that on the Anniversary of this our august Journal— that is, when it shall have reached its Fifty- second Number— we intend to present to every Subscriber who shall produce his or her last Twenty- six Numbers, a Magnificent Picture of " HER MAJESTY'S FAMILY CIRCLE," taken from Winterhalter's Painting of the same, and now in possession of Her Most Gracious Majesty. The superb plate shall be worth at least, in the Trade, ONE GUINEA ! ! ! YOU MAY BE CURED YET-- HOLLOWAY'S OINTMENT. CUBE OF RHEUMATISM AND RHEUMATIC GOUT.— Extract of a Letter from Mr. Thomas Brunton, Landlord of the Waterloo Tavern. Coatham, Yorkshire, late ofthe Life Guards, dated September28th, 1848. To PROCESSOR HOLLOWAT.— SIB,— For a long time I was a Martyr to Rheumatism and Rheumatic Gout, and for ten weeks previous to using your medicines, I was so bad as not to be able to walk. T had tried doctoring and medicines of every kind, but all to no avail, indeed I daily got worse, and felt that I must shortly die. From see- ing your remedies advertised in the paper I take in, I thought I would give them a trial. I did so. I rubbed the Ointment m as directed, and kept cabbage leaves to the part thickly spread with it, and took the Pills night and morning. In three weeks I was enabled to walk about for an hour or two in the day witb a stick, and in seven weeks I could go any where without one. I am now, by the blessing of God and yoiir medicines, quite well, and have been attending to my business for more than seven months, without any symptoms of the return of my old complaint. Besides my ease of Rheumatic Gout, I have lately had proof that your Pills and Ointment will Ileal any old woundor ulcer, as amarried woman, living near me, had had a bad leg for four years, which no one could cure, and I gave her some of your Pills and Ointment, which soundly healed it when nothing else would do it. For your information I had the honor to serve my country for twenty- five years in the first regiment of Life Guards, and was eighteen years a Corporal. I was two years in the Peninsula War, and was at tbe Battle of Waterloo. I was discharged with a pension ou the 2nd September, 1833. The Commanding Officer at the time, was Colonel Lygon, who isjnow a General. I belonged to the troop of Captain the Honourable Henry Baring. ( Signed) THOMAS BRUNTON. CUBE OF A BAD LEG OF TWENTY ONE YEARS' STANDING.— Ex- tract of a Letter from Mr. Andrew Brack, Blacksmith, Eyemouth near Berwick, dated the 10th of August, 1848. To PROFESSOR HOLLOWAY.— SIR,— With pleasure and gratitude I have to inform you that after suffering for twenty- one years with a bad leg, which yielded to no kind of treatment, although I consulted, at different times, every medical man of eminence in this part of the Country, but all to no purpose. I was frequently unable to work; and the pain and agony I often endured no one can tell. My leg is now as sound as ever it was in my life by means of your Pills and Ointment, which I purchased from Mr. I. Davidson, Druggist, Ber- wick upon- Tweed, who knows my case well, and will, I am sure, be liappy to certify with me, if necessary, as to thetruth of this wonder- ful cure. ( Signed) ANDREW BRACK. AMPUTATION OF Two TOES PREVENTED.— Extract of a Letter from Mr. Oliver Smith Jenkins, dated Falkirk, August 13th, 1848. To PROFESSOB HOLLOWAY.— SIB,—- I was superintending about six months ago, the erection of one of our Railway Bridges, and by tbe fall of a large stone my right foot was seriously bruised, which ulti - mately got so bad, that I was advised to go to Edinburgh to consult some of the eminent Surgeons, which I did, and was told that in orderfto save myfoot, two of my toes must be taken off. Indespair, I returned home to impart the melancholy news to my wife, intending to submit to the operation, it was then a thought struck me to try your valuable Ointment and Pills, which I did, and was by their means in three weeks enabled to resume my usual occupation, and at this time my toes are perfectly cured. ( Signed) _ OLIVER SMITH . JENKINS. AN EXTRAORDINARY CURE OF A DESPERATE SKIN DISEASE.— ON the 21st. July, the Editor of the " Mofussilite" Newspaper published in India, inserted the following Editorial article in his paper. " We know for a fact, that Holloway's Pills and Ointment act in a most wonderful manner upon the constitution, as an eccentric Coolie, called Eliza, employed in our Establishment, was affected with myriads of Ringworms, whieh defied all the Meerut Doctors, and promised to devour the poor man before he was underground; we tried " Holloway" upon liim, and in a month he was perfectly re- stored to his former condition and cleanliness of skin. The effect was miraculous." The Pills should be used conjointly with the Ointment in most of the following cases:— Bad Legs— Bad Breasts— Burns— Bunions- Bite ofMoschetoesandSand flies— Coco- Bay— Chiego- foot— Chilblains — ChapMd- hands— Corns ( Soft)— Cancers— Contracted and Stiff- joints— F. lephantiasis— Fistulas— Gout— Glandular Swellings — Lum- bago— Piles— Rheumatism — Scalds- Sore Nipples— Sore throats— Skin- diseases — Scurvy— Sore- heads— Tumours— Ulcers— Wounds- Yaws. Sold by the Proprietor, 244, Strand, ( near Temple Bar,) London and by all respectable Vendors of Patent Medicines throughout the civilized World, in Pots and Boxes, Is. lid., 2s. 9d., 4s. Gd., 1 is., 22s., and 33s. each. There is a very considerable saving by taking tbe larger sizes. N. B.— Directions for the guidance of Patients are affixed to each Pot and Box. EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS OF THE NEW REMEDY. — UPWARDS OF 17,000 CURES WITHOUT A SINGLE FAILURE. HE. WALTER DE ROOS, 1, Ely- place, Holborn- hill, London U earnestly invites every one suffering from those dangerous dis- eases arising from Solitary Habits, Excesses, and Infection in all their stages and varieties, which from improper treatment so frequently end in Skin Eruptions, Gravel, Inflammation of Kidneys. Pains in the Back and Loins, Stone in the Bladder, and ultimately DEATH!— to avail themselves without delay of his important dis coveries, by which he is now enabled to treat with the utmost cer tainty of cure every stage aud variety of this calamitous class of dis eases. It is a distressing fact that Secondary Symptoms, which is a species of lingering DEATH, are too frequently the result ofthe old method of treatment; but, thanks to science, he is now, after 22 years of study and experience, in possession of a remedy by which lie guarantees a perfect and lasting cure. This fact has already been manifested in upwards of 17,000 cases ; and as a stronger as- surance he undertakes - to cure, without hindrance to business, the most inveterate case in comparatively few days, or RETURN the MOMEY. All those deemed INCURABLE are particularly invited. Country patients will be minute in the detail of their cases, as that will render a personal visit unnecessary.— Advice, with medicines, £\. Patients corresponded with till cured. Hours, 10 till 1, and •! till 8 ; Sundays, 10 fill 1.— Post Office Orders payabl to Dr. Walter de Roos, M. D. C. S., 1, ELY- PLACE, HOLBORN- HILL, LONDON. Read Dr, de Roos' Celebrated Work. Just published, 64tli Thousand, 144 pages, Illustrated with numerous Coloured Engraviugs, in a sealed envelope, from the Author, in English or French, 2s., or free by post for 32 Stamps. THE MEDICAL ADVISER. All Essay on the Obligations ot Marriage; the Treatment and Cure of all those Secret Disorders arising from early Excesses and Infections, with plain directions for the removal of every disqualification. " This work is indeed a boon to the public, as it has the two- fold advantage of plainness and being written by a duly qualified man, who evidently understands his subject."— Daily Times. The following are our appointed Agents:— London: W. COLE, Bedford- street, Oxford- street, Mile End.— Deptford: F. L. LYONS, 8, Broadway.— Greenwich: II. HILL, H. Market- place.— Bristol: COOK, Sims- place.— Manchester: IIEY- WOOD, Oldham- street.— Leeds: A. MANN. — Glasgow: W. LOVE Nelson- street.— Derby: BROOKES, St. Alkmund's- chui- chyard.— Leicester: BILLSON, Beltgrave- gate.— Beverley: WARD, Butcher- row.— Baubury: BUNTON, Cherwell- street. — Sheffield: ROGERS, Fruit- market.— Brighton : TOURLE, 37, Edward- street.— Newcastle- on- Tyne: FRANCE & Co., 8, Side.— Bradford, Yorkshire: W. COOKE , Vicar- lane. Printed and Published by the Proprietor, G. JOHNSTONE, 12, Russell- court, Brydges- street, Strand.
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