NEW PAUL ISERIES. PRY i " IT IS A VIRTUOUS ACTION TO EXPOSE VICIOUS MEN."— DRYDSN. No. 36.— NEW SERIES.] PUBLISHED WEEKLY. [ PRICE ONE PENNY. CREMORNE GARDENS. NOTHING can possibly be more delicious in this sultry summer weather, than the vicinity of a noble flowing river— the more especially when near to a place so dmsely packed and over- crowded with population as London. The first thing in the morning, when the air is fresh, and the mere breathing of it imparts a sense of lightness and gaiety to the frame, and when the intense heat of noon, which relaxes and prostrates the frame, is past; how grateful is the air upon the river, particularly when you are with a pleasant party, in a boat that does not puff, and blow, and pant; when you are seated beside your sweetheart in that rosy spring time of life — the halcyon days of courting, when every fancy is rife with visions of delight and gladness, and the buoyant spirit of youth sees no difficulty in the strife of life through which every man must pass, when the air is music and wine— when the glance ofthe laughing eye— the smile upon the rosy lips which breaks the chin into lovely dimples, and you know that the heart within that elegantly dressed little form by your side is your own; we say, to go out on the river on such an afternoon or evening, is positively intoxicating. So it is'also, when this loving one has become your wife. To true and pure hearts, there must happen much before the days of matrimonial happiness pass by, and are lost for ever. There must be some bitter strife, some black cloud on the heart, when you grow weary of what you once valued. There is no moral desolation that we can consider more complete than that, where apathy and indifference between the young husband and young wife, has flung the starry mantle of joy, of gladness, and decidedly of goodness, into the slime of oblivion, when the flowers of love, like the flowers of spring, are trampled with cold neglect in the dust. And then again, irrespective of these afore- mentioned con- ditions, what more gay, pleasant, and superlative, than a party of youthful friends, whose freedom does not go beyond a fro- lic, and who even in their licence, do not insult a woman, treat poverty with contempt, and forget the respect due to age; who with the intention, making the most of the " fun " their few hours allow them, give themselves heart and soul to the enjoyment they contemplate— it is then that the " water- party " becomes absolute, and let us add, that the folly ot an hour has its advantages, as well as the sedate wis- dom of a week. " Up the river," we love it far better than the going in the : contrary direction. At Putney and all the infinite distance beyond, trees cluster on both the shores, while handsome, ornate, or snug plant and flower- covered little cottages, peep ' out from their leafy boscages. When the trees rustle and sing, and fields, ground, and gardens disclose their glowing loveliness, their animated repose, their fruitful promise, places I that remind one of " romps," and walks where you can wan- der and whisper appear also also. We are bound to Cremornc then, one of the most fre- j quented, and generally speaking the most pleasant place in the suburbs of this huge Babylon. The appearance from I the water however, is less natural than one would like. The , hand of the " decorator" is painfully impressive. There is j an elaboration of shrubs and statues, and walls, and stucco, i almost too palpable. Nothing is left for the imagination. 1 Messrs. " So- and- So," the artists, advertise their superior I skill in every part, while Madame Nature, except in the fine trees that stud the grounds, is put a little in the shade, j However, not to be accused of cavilling, let us land, and ! enter the gardens, and to say truth, we have reason to be satisfied with the aspect of everything around us, which is I inanimate. It is therefore the animated portion of these gardens whom ; we feel bound to reprehend. It is a major portion of the | frequenters of these gardens who come beneath our censure. We have seen everything that is to be seen, and we are pleased, and now comes the dancing at the rotunda— if that be the proper term— or around that place, of which the orchestra forms the centre, and it is theie that character begins to stereotype itself— here that we begin to know what kind of people they are who form the audience. rise to, is fit for the polluted saloon of Piccadilly and . Tessop's alone. They have a style which the young men of the day have adopted and followed with such avidity that we may have reason to doubt whether the pages of Juvenal and Petronius can draw darker pictures of demoralization. It is a continental importation, it is expressly the impure evolutions of a brothel. It is calculated to deaden the sense of modesty in the female heart, and to foster passions which are pregnant with ruin, disease, and death. The gardens are beautiful, the music of a first- rate class, the viands and liquors good, the attendants are not civil, unless that scandalous beggary 011 the waiter's part is com- plied with; but for the dancing— decidedly no, and for that reason we will take neither our sister, our wife, or our daughter there ( we are happy in possessing these three blessings,) iest they should be insulted by a sight which is none other than obscene. There is scarcely a reader who will say that our picture, or illustration, is overcharged. MARONE; or, THE WINE OF LOVE. CHAPTER IX. ( Continued from our last.) MARONE. In Sir George's younger years, that is, during the Regency of which we could say so much, when hard drinking and un- restrained libertinism were the order of the day; a number of young men of the most wealthy nnd influential families, If vice and immorality, licentiousness and depravity of j had formed themselves into a kind of society, for the encou- the grossest kind, can mask themselves under a decent ragement of profligacy, for the furtherance of vice, and for exterior, and outrage the ideas of propriety which some men the ruin of women both body ="'' •"'"' ' ri and women possess, without being openly brazen and un- blushing,— they are witnessed in these dances, which ought to be abolished as things that corrupt youth and degrade the morals of the " rising," but very " fast," generation. The indecent huggings of gents and demireps— the scoundrelly vagabond who incipiently avails himself of the and soul. There was also among them a kind of emulation to- outstrip all, a competi- tion to be the arch- leader or chief of this infamous band. Lord Chesterfield wrote of women, as did Muchiavel of double- dealing, and both to the same result. It may easily be imagined what were the principles of honour held anionjr them, which they absorbed, as though it hnd been absorbed peculiar advantages this detestable mode of dancing gives i into the system with their mother's milk 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE Among the foremost of these, as we have said, was Lord George Vere de Vere. Whether it was a suavity of manner, an elegance and costliness of dress, drinking, duelling, dicing, or drabbing, he it was, who enjoyed the most enviable notoriety of the day. It was on the morning succeeding the night in which the attack in the Almonry had taken place that Lord George was seated in his bed- room while his valet was dressing his wig and trimming his master's chin. The chamber was a magnificently carved, gilded, anil richly furnished bed- room in one of those fine and lordly mansions situated in . Grosvenor- square. The time was between ten and eleven, the nobleman had just arisen, and the powerful rays of the sun penetrated the crimson curtain. It was a February morning, and its fineness gave the first indication of spring. Some early anemones were placed in small glasses of exquisite work and gilding, and there was an air of luxury and taste combined which pervaded the chamber, at the same time the flames of a warm fire danced up the chimney: . , ' . His lordship, who in his dress mingled the modern fashion, with the one rapidly becoming obsolete, stil'l retained the peruke and powder. He was in reality about eight and fifty, but his excessess had broken his tall powerful form, relaxed the healthy and bloomy cheeks, weakend the herculean limbs, and gave him the appearance of a decrepid old man of be- tween seventy and eighty. Like Lord Ogelby, he required to be bolussed and wound upfortheday. He still affected juve- nility, still used his glass and ogled all the pretty women he saw dressed young, loved primero and bassett, and— but over some portions of man's life such as his. it will be well to keep the veil down until it is compelled to be drawn aside. He had been. sitting in his elegant and furred dressing gown, sipping his chocolate for a few moments, while his valet' was busy with his cravat, the tie of which he was Brummelizing to the best of his endeavour, when Lord George turned suddenly round and angrily exclaimed, " Why the devil don't you speak sir? confound it, this silence is intolerable." " I beg your pardon, my lord," replied the valet, with a low bow, " but, just now you desired me to hold my tongue." " Well sir," grumbled the nobleman, putting his cup down upon the elegant table beside him, while he stretched his un- slippered feet upon the warm thick carpet, and leaned back in the fautueil covered with crimson leather. " Well sir, I naw bid you loosen it, is my nephew in the breakfast parlour yet?" ' " I believe not, my lord," responded the valet. " You believe not, sir!" echoed the irascible ex- courtier turning round, " What do you mean by that?" " His valet informs me, my lord, that the duke did not sleep at home last night." " Why what the plague is the young dog about now, I wonder!" ejaculated Lord George, looking very much per- plexed. " He went last night to the theatre, and was last seen fol- fowing a carriage, containing two ladies—" " Were they handsome?" demanded the uncle. " Particularly so," my lord, was the reply. •" Just like me— just like me," cried the nobleman, laughing, chuckling, and rubbing his hands together; " Egad! he's as like me as if— as if he were my twin brother. Aha! a sad dog, a sad dog though— in fact," and he took a pinch of snuff out of his diamond box, with an air of comical gravity, which was at the same time expressive of great self- satisfaction; but pursuing his thought, he con- cluded by saying, " in fact we are both sad dogs; eh?" The valet bowed, it could not be admitted in words, and to deny it was both troublesome and unsafe. He bowed, it spoke for him, " You are just whatever you please, my Lord." . . ,:. " Ah!" continued Lord George, " he's amazingly like me in temperament; he loves to bask in the sunshine of bright eyes, and to listen to the music of their lips, as well as to taste'em too, egad!" The valet bowed again, and there was a pause; the valet was still very busy, and the nobleman for a moment pursued the train of thought which engrossed him. Suddenly starting from his reverie, he said to the valet:— " Farral, have you looked at the papers this morning?" " There is very little of any interest, my lord," answered the valet, whose duty was also to supply his master with in- formation when required, to read the papers for him, and to give him their contents, filtered in a manner through his own brain. " I have had the Court Journal, the Fc/ si, and the Gazette, and their contents are not particularly inviting." " What's that to you, sir?" exclaimed Lord George, testily. " I don't ask you to comment upon them. I ask you for information. Begin, sir, at once— but first hand me that restorative?" And taking with shaking hands the " Zounds! when? " cried the n obleman, with a countenance of alarm. " On Saturday afternoon," re plied the unmoved Farral; " but met all its demands again on Monday morning. The Editor," added the valet,-." see ms to consider this a very pleasant hoax." " What a penetrating man he must be, to be sure," returned his lordship, drily; but, at the same time, much at his ease. " Now, are you ready to shave, me?" " Yes, my lord," and while the operation was being gone through, Farral related other city on dits of the day— how " the funds were up, and the s tocks down "— and how " Alder- man Gibbins was carried off by an attack of turtle "— how Mr. Deputy Simpkins, " built the back wall of his mansion at his own expense," though some people said, " he didn't, ® and others that " he oughtn't"— how " the Lord Mayor had graciously presented the beadle with a new gilt staff,"— that " tallow and hides were very brisk,"— that the " bulls were a little in advance of the bears,"— and that " fourteen ships were lading for"— " That will do, sir," interrupted Lord George abruptly; " and now help me off with my gown?" And, as Farral ob, eyed, the nobleman ran on;— " Curse his impudence," muttered the peer, speaking of his nephew-, endeavouring to assume the jealous amoroso—• the youthful gallant—" he's my rival everywhere, and the rascal, with this incognito, manages to oust me— me, the conqueror of the Regency! Ah! that time is going by— going by," he added, with a sad, bitter, heartbreaking sigh, as if memory made him a man, aud gave him something nobler to grieve over, instead of this worthless and impure shadow he venerated. And while in the meantime Farral proceeded with his master's toilet, Lord George thus continued:— ( To be continued in our next.) TO THE TOILING MILLIONS. WE, our august selves, have at length determined ( after many thousand entreaties) to become political. And why not ? We, as the great REFORMER OP THE AGE, deserve the thanks of the entire community for our unflinching energy in exposing the most crying evils of our social Sphere, and whipping with unsparing hand the evil- doers. And we intend to gain the thanks of the whole world, for our deter- mined advocacy of principles, which have at heart the poli- tical regeneration of the universe,— to wit: the greatest amount of happiness it is possible for man to enjoy upon earth, for the greatest number. We can with truth assert that we have received, since our first day of pub- lication, more than six thousand complimentary letters from gentlemen, some connected with the Church establishment—• others from Dissenters of various denominations; some from gentlemen filling high posts in the legal profession, aud others from eminent merchants both in London and the provinces,— for our guarded, yet unmistakable hints con- nected with parties whom the law could never touch, but whom PAUL has shamed into a somewhat more respectable and honest mode of life. Paul has several other reasons for becoming POLITICAL. He has seen for some time past a storm gathering. He has seen with his fatherly eye, obstinate and thick- headed men, calling themselves lords, striving to bring the storm- cloud near to this land. But when it bursts, who will it over- whelm? who will it completely annihilate? Why those very blind and obstinate men. It shall be PAUL'S grand aim to direct the PEOPLE aright, so that the electric cloud, charged with the thunderbolt of retribution, may fall on the heads of those alone who have striven for years and years to keep . their brothers in bondage, that they might wallow in luxuries and idleness, heedless who starves; or who are driven to destruction by their vile machinations. But the great cause of our enlistment in the ranks of politics is, the increasing pauperism amongst the toiling masses, and the utter recklessness and profligacy existing in the upper or aristocratic circles of St. James's. We feel our blood boil with indignation, when we read in one column of our daily contemporaries of the Duke of this or my Lord LETTERS ON CONVENT DISCIPLINE. No. H. When I had been a little more than a fortnight an in- habitant of the convent, the Lady Superior had some busi- ness which took her to Nice, from which place Sister Agnes arrived to fill her place. Sister Agnes was a fine tall hand- some looking woman, with a noble expression of countenance, with fiery black eyes, and not more than 26 years of age. She was not called Lady Superior, as she was not of the re- quired age, but she filled that place in everything but name. She conducted, amongst others, our class, and told one of our young ladies that she desetved punishment, but that being the first day she would excuse her. Twcf other girls were Whipped this morning in the most cruel, shameful manner, by Sisters Mary and Ursula, and after about 100 whippings, it was one Monday morning, scarcely a month from my entering, I was told to go to the block; I went mechanically and stood before it. Sister Agnes heard the class the rest of the lesson, and then came and told me to kneel down— then, having tied my hands, and fastened my clothes up to my waist, she commenced the flogging, and gave me twenty or thirty stripes, which made me feel as thongh they were killing me, and then bidding me beware of the next punish- ment, which should be more severe, she untied my hands and clothes and I returned ta my place; but when I went to bathe a young lady said the marks still show, though it was the Saturday after, but she added that she had the traces of discipline for a month afterwards. About a week after I was flogged, we received a new pupil, who arrived at the appointed time, viz., tea- time— about 6 o'clock. Her name, we were told, was Mrs. Caroline W , a very nice looking girl, or rather widow, about 19. rather stout and lazy looking, with aburn hair and blue eyes, She sat next to me at tea, and I was told by Sister Theresa to show her where to put her box. She foliowed me up the stairs with her luggage, but when half way up she felt tired and I laughingly volunteered to carry her trunk, which, by regulation, was a very small one. She thanked me, accept- ing my offer, and said, " I am sure you must think me very lazy, but I really have never been forced to carry anything so heavy as that box," and, on her arrival up stairs, told me her history. She said she was married at the age of 18, at Faversham, to Mr. W , a Scotch gentlemen, 70 years of age, a Roman Catholic, by the persuasion of her mother- in- law. He had behaved very kindly to her, though more as a father than as a husband, and at his death, which happened in six months, bequeathed her, by will, £ 12,000, but as it would take two or three years to collect, she had resolved to take refuge in a convent, at St. Omer, where they led a most lazy life, and she was afraid that she should get fat, and had proposed to the nuns that she should assist them in their labours as Sisters of Charity. The nun remonstrated against this as a most dangerous experiment, but told her there was another plan, which she scarcely dared suggest. " What is it?" " Why you know you complained tome that you were backward in your studies, now if you were to go to school for two years, submitting to the control of th nuns, they would turn you out a finished scholar." " I consented to this, and here I am." We then descended, and she was placing her arm round my waist, but I told her she must not, as it was forbidden. She then asked me if we slept unattended; I told her that a nun attended to see us undress and get into bed, and came in the morning to see us get up; she observed, " what a bother." " The only time that we are left alone is bathing mornings, when we are only attended at the bath by a lay sister, who is a good- iiatured old body." " But shall we all bathe together.; " Yes, all the twelve in our room bathe on Wednesdays and Saturdays." Bed time arriving, we retired, when the nun reproved Mrs. Caroline W for not kissing her frock when she took it off, the Bishop having blessed it. EMMA W. To BE SEEN ALIVE.— Near the Surrey Zoological Gardens, is to be seen a horned peacock. It frequents the Horse and Groom, from 8 o'clock in the evening till about 12. The thing is very mischievous in its nature, and any person coming in contact with its breath is sure to be contaminated. Its height is about five feet five inches, white face, hooked bill, with a very downey wink of the eye. It answers to the name of Tommy, and is waited upon by Mr. Coddy, the Lock's Fields champion, who is always ready to oblige parties with cards to view the wonderful creature. his valet's digest of the morning papers. " The ' fashionable intelligence,' " began Farral, " ex- presses great satisfaction at the fineness of the weather, while it laments the excessive cold; but also hopes that no thaw will yet ensue, as the skating clubs have made some delightful arrangements on the Serpentine, and a dis- continuance of frost would be an excessive inconvenience, because"— " That will do," observed Lord George, with a smile. « You have really a good memory; but then it's twaddle, sir, twaddle." The valet grinned, shrugged, and bowed. " It was in the paper, word for word. Should he fetch the paper for Lord George to see?" " No, thank you," returned his master, drily. " Pray, proceed with something else." " Count Von Stork, belonging to the embassy of their High Mightinesses, has been eatchpolled for swindling." <• In— deed!" muttered Lord George. " I am deuced glad to hear it, for he was a most insolent scoundrel, and robbed me audaciously enough." " The favourite— your favourite— prima donna," con- tinuued the valet archly, conferring the honour upon his master, " Madame Belzinini, has"— " Well, sir, proceed," cried Lord George, impatiently. " Eloped with Herr Haltzer, the bass of the opera," con- tinued Farral. " The devil!— phew!"— and as the old beau ejaculated the first, and whistled the second, his face underwent such an elongation, that the valet, had he dared, would have laughed outright; as it was, he was imperturbable as possible. , " It was only last week," muttered the juvenile remains of the Regency to himself, " that I gave the avaricious jade an elegant diamond ring; and she— well, she may go; she was extravagant— and curse me, if I don't think my nephew has supyed with her once or twice, while I have been hastily crammed into a closet." " Your lordship's name," continued the valet, gravely, " is mentioned in connection with some members of the ballet." " Scandal, sir, mere scandal," replied his lordship smiling, and dangling his gold eye- glass complacently; " but people will talk— proceed, sir?" " The County Bank is reported to have stopped payment," proceeded the Yalet. that giving a splendid party, at his no less splendid mansion, draught alluded to, he prepared himself to listen patiently to anij ; n the other, a poor creature on the verge of starvation, willing to work, but unable to obtain it, being refused admis- sion into those mis- managed dens, termed workhouses. What in heaven's name should make this awful difference ? Why should one man, and that man a less worthy member of society, have more than enough, whilst his poor brother, fashioned by the same God in his own image, is denied even the luxury of living? There are thousands who, from year to year, sit and listen to the canting hypocrites of Exeter Hall preach about the negro population of America being brothers, who beg, and not only beg but obtain thousands of pounds for their redemption, and yet deny that fraternal existence to the white slaves of England, whom they wish to keep in bondage the most execrable and debasing. This is one grand reason for devoting a portion of our popular Journal to that noblest of all aims— the political enfranchise- ment of our brothers in slavery. As a direct acknowledgment of creed is necessary, we announce ourselves to the world as pure Republicans. Hear it, ye western winds, and waft the soul- reviving news across the Atlantic, that the shores of America may resound, and carry the echo into its very heart, that PAUL PRY declares himself a true Republican! Let the sound again be brought to the coast ol France, and strike terror into the hearts of the designing few who are striving to place another, and perhaps a worse puppet than the last upon a throne, blasting the tree of liberty at one fell stroke, and enslaving blood which has been shed and offered up as a libation on the altars of the Republic! Let these few hear the cries of Rome for freedom, which if they deny, and turn a deaf ear to, may they also in their last extremity call in vain for help, and mercy be denied ! The small space we shall devote from week to week to political subjects, will be filled with matter pointing out the only ami sure path for all good men and true, men who have the good of their fellow creatures at heart, to pursue and persevere in, until the happy goal is reached, and man be to man as a brother. • Q, E. D.— A. ROTHSCHILD has papered London with placards.— As he must be returned, what makes the man do it?— B. Why, don't " Manners make the man?" DEFINITIONS: BY ONE OF THE " COUNCIL."— Prison: A cage for birds of unfashionable feather.— Memory: A bundle of dried time.— Castle in the Air: A structure which usually consoles the architect to a hovel on earth.— Dark Ages: A long night, with many thieves about, and few policemen. IIANWELL EXAMINATION PAPER.— If you had a hypo- chondriac under your care, why would you send him to Mr, Wylde, M. P., ( Map publisher)?— Because he would try | to make him map- py ( him happy). Let the Grand Duke of Bad'un Bad'un beat that if he can! GENTISH ENORMITIES.— Really some boundary should be put to the young gentlemen's ties. They protrude so much on each side, that you can scarcely pass down Regent- street without having the sharp end of a Joinville thrust into your face. Ladies are great victims to these enormous ties. It is time some limit was put to the growth of these public ex- cresences, for, if they keep on growing, no young gent will be able to go through Temple Bar unless he slides in side- ways. We propose that policemen be armed with large shears, and empowered to lop off all the Joinvilles and Beauforts that stick out more than six inches beyond each shoulder. This we consider a very liberal measure. EPIGRAMS. Your wife, Sir Knight, with deep concern you own, To Mother Church is such a bigot grown, That she her father visits, though forbidden: Ah! friend, I shrewdly fear your wife's priest- ridden. The damsel too prudishly shy, Or too forward, what swain would possess? For one will too often deny, And the other too soon will say yes. Swift through my breast your thrilling kisses rove, And melt, fair dear, my ravish'd soul to love: So the fork'd lightning flies, and fires within, When all without, no mark of danger's seen. Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once, and n< w I know it. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE PAXIL ADVISES J. K., apprentice, Leadenhall- street, not to patronize penny gaffs, nor attempt to deceive Miss M. R., as she has some idea he is acquainted with the cigar maker's daughter. Mr. S— s, of Angel- court, Strand, to pay his debts. Mr. L— r, the fireman of Farringdon- street, not to boast of his competency of enjoying the society of all the ladies of Farringdon- street. C. B— gi of London- fields, Hackney, to be careful with the young lady at the pastry cook's. How about the baker's daughter, Charles? Mr. M— n, of Bartholomew- close, to pay a little more attention to Miss F— r, if he means honourable, and by no manner of means be seen walking with a lady in satin. J. B— t, of Smithfield, to get his hair curled by a hair dresser when he goes courting again, and not attempt it himself with a pair of lamp scissors. Mrs. M— w, of Stanhope- street, Lincoln's- Inn- Fields, to endeavour to let her tenements to respectable persons, and when complained to by her respectable lodgers, not to say she would let the whole of her houses to unfortunate females if she could get them as tenants. Mrs. C— 1, of Wild- street, to join the teetotal society, and not flirt with the butcher. The beadle of Clare- market to keep a sharp eye upon the questionable meat vendors in his locality, in order to prevent all coroner's inquests. Mr. H— s, of Hall- street, City- road, not to be so conceited as to imagine that all the young girls he may happen to meet are smitten with his fascinating exterior. T., the porter at Barnard's- inn, to give up his situation, and make room for a person who is really in want of such a place. With the money you have accumulated you might live in luxury. Remember, there is no vice worse than avarice. Miss R. M. S., of Woburn- mews, to look after her father's home, and not so much after F. O. B., the wood spoiler of Coram street. The fat cheesemonger known by the name of Pickwick's fat boy, not 100 miles from Carnaby- street, not to wink at the little turn- up nose girl. The boy F. W— d, at the Post- office, St. John- street, not to have his hair curled three times a week, and to leave off torturing his bristly pole with the snuffers ere he retires to rest of a night. J. A., the snob of Russell- court, not to boast of opening his shop on a Sunday. The professional singers at the Nag's Head, Tower- hill, to keep their weather eye open, for Paul has something in store for them. The parties who are unable to obtain PAUL PP. Y in their various localities, to drop a line to our office and we will take eare such complaints shall not long continue. The Don Giovanni butterman of Clare- court, Drury. lane, never to squeeze the hands of females when giving them their change. J. P— y, of Tavistock- street, not to sport about in other peoples' left off clothes, Whether A— r C— n D— n, of the Hart- hotel, Russell- street, has any vacancies in a good swindling theatrical " spec " for young ladies who have Wafdrobes to leave to pay rent, & c,, after remaining in the " no effects " company for a fortnight? Whether that fop of a grocer's- boy, J. W—, of Britanni place, Wandsworth- road, carries a brace of pop- guns about with him, determined to fire them off if they ever happen to be loaded, at the first person who puts him in PUT? Did you borrow the lockless weapon from your friend the marine store- dealer opposite? When the costermonger, of Clare- market, intends opening the doctor's- shop? The next new dodge of Cranky Jim Crosby? THE FRAIL SISTERHOOD, PIVOINE. ESSEX.— Mr. B— s, of Woodford, not to court the widow near the castle, but pay more attention to his own affairs. yif— S) the postman, of Woodford, to give more length to his stirrups and not sit with his knees cocked under his nose like an old woman. BUCKS.— J. P— t, of West- street. Great Marlow, not to be running down Dean- street so often to the last house through the turnpike- gate. Mr. S. C— r, of High- street, when he visits a certain house, to go in at the front door instead of the back one, or you may repent your temerity. BERKSHIRE The dark- haired fishmonger, of Maiden- head, when next he goes to Great Marlow, not to visit the Nag's Head, and if he does to keep respectable company. Miss L— b, the balcer's- daughter, of Reading, not to waste her parent's substance on dress, and to remember that it is not all gold that glitters. SURREY'— Mr. H. H—, the Oxford gardener, of Tin- ker's- yard, Miteham- green, not to go home drunk, and when in that state abuse his wife. How about the return of the feather- bed, near tbe wheeler's- shop? SUSSEX.— F. H— d, of Edward- street, Brighton, to wear clean stockings as often as possible, so that the olfactory nerves of his neighbours may not be affected. Mr. G. Y— 1, butcher, of Edward- street, always to sell the best meat he can get, for if ho does his custom will assuredly increase. Tommy V— e, the lady's- man, of Edward- street, Brighton, to get rid of his boyish ways and let the girls alone. . KENT.— Mr. J. H— n, of Erith, to leave off visiting No. 1, of a certain street, as we are sure the young lady's father cannot abide a fop. E. Z— of Rural- vale, Northfleot, not to visit G. A— so often, or you may repent it. T. B—, of Bow- street, Northfleet, not to visit Star- street, Gravesenil, as we are sure it cannot add to your morality. G. B—, of Barrack- field, Northfleet, not to visit a certain house, in Bow- street, so much, as a party's eye is upon yon every time you venture in the locality. Mr. P— d, of Trafalgar- road, Greenwich, to pay more at- tention to his better half and less to a certain young girl, of Trafalgar- road. MIDDLESEX.— G. M— w, the bricklayer, of Twicken- ham- common, to buy a silver- nobbed stick of his own and not borrow his brother's so often. NEWCASTLE- UPON- TYNE.— Miss W— h, of Perry- street, not to be seen flirting about in company with a mar- ried woman, who had much better be at home attending to her domestic duties. SOUTH SHIELDS.— J. D—, the tinker, and T. B—, the tailor, to behave themselves better when they leave church on a Sunday evening. G. G—, the greasy- butcher, of the Market- place, to mind his own business and not be seen so much among the fish- mongers. Miss T— r, not to be seen out late at night in company with J. D—, or something might happen. R. D—, the cobbler, had better get his hair cut as he looks like a jackass in the streets. SHEFFIELD.— His old chum, of Angel- street, to pay for the walking- sticks he ordered to be placed to his account. Charley, what about the White Angel? Mr. T— n, of Burges- street, when he takes his son to Derby again, to let Alex, have the duck and green peas he cried so much about and not to mark him in the manner he has done. How about the telegraph? PAUL WISHES TO KNOW If the little barber, at the West- end, Sheffield, says if Mr. H. R— will not tell PAUL any more secrets, he will stand a glass of beer and a pinch of snuffP Whether the fishmonger- butcber, of the same place, buys up the stifled foreign animals from board ship and sells them again at 3d. per pound? CHAP. IX. THE FIRST NIGHT. ( Continuation,) Pivoine, however, remained silent and motionless in the fauteuil which Virgil had drawn near the fire; she Was be- numbed in spirit'as well as body, and in addition, wholly ab- sorbed by the sensation of a gentle heat dissipating by de- grees the smarting cold which for so many hours past had penetrated the very marrow of her bones. Virgil had replaced his sailor's costume by an old flannel morning gown, and had placed on his head an Algerian fez of red wool, with a blue tuft and golden tassel. He'seated himself opposite Pivoine. The blood mounting to the face of the young girl, re- doubled the fresh colours of her cheeks and gave to Iter eyes a singular brilliancy. " Sapristi!" thought the student, " the girl is prettier than the mother of the loves! By Cupid, I am a lucky rogue!" He remained silent for some moments, absorbed by some very Anacreontic reflections; a sudden idea then crossed his mind, and he suddenly exclaimed: " Mamzelle—" Pivoine looked at him without replying. " You must be hungry," pursued Virgil, " will you sup ?" " Yes," replied the young girl mechanically. " Bravo!" exclaimed the student. And he shook apiece of old faded galoon, which served as a bell rope. In about five minutes the waiter of the hotel appeared, rubbing with both hands his eyes, heavy with sleep. " Antoine," said the young man. " M'sieu Virgil—" replied the domestic. " I want some supper." " Ah!" " What is there in the house?"" " My faith! there is nothing." " How! nothing! ' Tis impossible!" " Yes, M'sieu— except half a cold fowl, and a little ham." " And you call that nothing! imbecile! Bring up the fowl and ham, ' tis quite enough." " Yes, but madame said they were to be kept for her breakfast to; morrow morning." " I am sorry for it! madame will send for something else, or will go without breakfast, just as she pleases; as for me, I am hungry, and will sup, so bring up the comestibles!" " Very well." " Apropos, Antoine, listen." " M'sieu?" " I must bave some champagne." " Oh! oh 1" exclaimed the waiter with a knowing smile." " What do you laugh at then? Don't you comprehend me?" " Perfectly! M'sieu wishes for champagne, but he can't have it." " Why so, then?" " Because madame has forbidden it; m'sieu knows well that the last time his papa came to Paris, and paid madame's bill, he got into a passion because there was some champagne charged in it; he said it was the perdition of young men, and that he would pay no more if m'sien was again fur- nished with it." " There is truth in what you say; but just pay attention to tbis, Antoine— the immortal Moliere tells us through the mouth of the great Tartuffe— " There are expedients even in heaven!" " It may be so, M'sieu ! " " Well, this is my expedient! What is the cost of the Argenteuil wine which Madame sells to her lodgers under the pseudonyme of old Mafoit?" " A franc the bottle." " And the champagne ?" " Five francs." " Then bring me up a bottle of champagne, and insert in my bill five bottles of Argenteuil; this is my mode of arranging matters!" Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed the waiter, amazed at this un- expected denouement, and at the victorious fashion in which Virgil cut the Gordian knot. " Do you comprehend?" " Oh! for the matter of that, yes!" " Well, then, walk." " I am going, m'sien." In fact Antoine slowly descended, and tho student hastened to clear the round table, which he approached to the fire." Pivoine, still plunged in a heavy slumber, bad assisted at the preceding conversation, without listening to it, or with- out divining its meaning. The waiter reappeared, loaded with plates and dishes, and carrying the precious bottle carefully enveloped in a thin sheet of lead. " There," said Virgil, " place it on the table, and file, I shall want you no more, you can go to sleep." The waiter did not wait to hear this welcome order re- peated, and quitted in great haste. Virgil drew the bolt be- hind him, and approached Pivoine. " Well, my little charmer," he enquired, " are you some- what better?" " Oh! yes," replied the young girl. " These tiny hands are not so cold, I hope," added the student, taking one of PiVoine's, who allowed him to tlb so. " I still tremble a little," she said, " but that will pass oft'." " Yoit shall drink a mouthful of this cordial, and you will feel nothing more of it." And Virgil, untwisting the wire with the point of his knife, opened the bottle, the cork of which flew to the ceiling. " ' Tis cider—" said the young girl on seeing the white ftotli filling up one of the two glasses." " First quality 1" replied Virgil, laughing. " Just swallow that!" ... He presented the glass to Pivoine, who emptied it at one breath. " ' Tis good," she said, " But it has not the taste of our Normand cider." " No, because this comes from Epernay, but it warms one more than the other. What think you of it?" The young girl did not reply. Already, she felt a power- ful and unknown sensation; a singular warmth infiltrated her veins, her blood circulated more quickly, and as Virgil had announced, the last vestiges of her stupor were rapidly dissipated. She rose up, and, finding herself before the glass, she threw upon it a glance of interrogation. A sentiment of bashful coquetry now made her blush at the disorder of her head- dress, a disorder which in no way diminished the charm of her delicious visage. ( To be continued in our next.) LETTER- BAG. TO LORD JOHN MANNERS. MY LORD,—- You are a young man with many good and honest intentions— so you say, which I am perfectly willing to allow; but you are guilty of one great error, common to youth,— that of presumption. Because the House of Lords, which was created out of the influence of the people in the beginning, and is only tolerated, while creeping gradually into insolvency, and ruin; becom- ing beggared and broken, like the boasted house of Bucking- ham, its very caducity being its present protection— because the House of Lords has denied the Jew the power of repre- senting people—" who elect bim"— you rise up as one of this class, and say also, " Surely at this crisis, it is I, and I only, whom they ought to elect. The people will be flat- tered by a Lord for a representative, and the House of Peers I will find in me another bulwark." This, my lord, is what J you say in theory. When you were defeated, you did not lose temper and be- come angry, a fact I may be allowed to congratulate you up- on, because it is more a mark of good taste than ill or good breeding, but you were unfortunate enough to use these words:—" It was charged against me that eight years ago, when a very young man, I published some rather absurd pieces of poetry. . . . Bad as may be the poetry, worse as may be the sentiment, I had rather be the boy who, eight years ago, wrote the poetry, than the grey headed man, who, the day before yesterday, for party purposes, called it from oblivion." My lord, you have here been very, very unfortunate. For, First,— Was it possible that your poetry, the poetry of a lord, could be " bad," and " worse in sentiment?" And Secondly,— Was it credible that your poetry was in danger of falling into oblivion?— and does not this imply a very poor capability of appreciation on the part of those of your " order " who ought to have made it, at the very least, immortal. They ought to have introduced it into their pa- rish schools, and at Exeter Hall. It might have been quoted — you and they know how. Thirdly,— Did you mean to waken up some latent re& ors^ in the bosom of that gentleman you term a " grey- headed man," because he accused you of scribbling twaddle 1 Was he guilty of violating any principle of honour or decency by what he said; and again; why should he not say anything for party purposes, seeing that it is a notorious fact, your " order" are of those who take every mean, base, and uncler- handed way when they want to " oppose" or " carry" a measure? Besides, my Lord, I will make you acknowledge the truth of this The sins of the father, or the fathers, shall be visited upon the children!" You will liesitatate, but, upon honour, you will reply, " Yes, I believe so." You will acknowledge, also, the truth of what one of our best and last poets ( Wordsworth) has said— " The child's the father of the man 1" My Lord, you will again answer, " Yes, such is my impres- sion." Now, my Lord, as you, when the Boy, wrote this poetry, and as the boy also has become the father of the man you now are ( this is a little involved, but a minute's thought makes it plain), it is clear that you are answerable f « t the sins committed by your boy- father then. My Lord, you have been found guilty of writing poetry— bad poetry— very— witness these memorable, but soundless lines— " Let wealth and commerce, laws and learning die, But leave lis still our old nobility." Why? in God's name, why? what do you want with them? but if you do want tlie. rp, take them, and be heartily welcome; they are of no more use to us than the gods of Greece— with au immesasurably less value. My Lord, you are to be pitied; you have committed one of the most atrocious blunders that a man possibly could; it is a sentence that at once carries on a destructive war with itself, it quarrels each member with the other. To keep your old nobility, you would alter the structure of the social fa- bric, and you do not express much in their favour when you imply that they ( the old nobility) could exist without law or learning. They have been a detestably ignorant set, they are better now, thanks to us again! You were backed by Sir Peter Laurie, who with a vul- garity, a slangy sort of election- hustings blackgua-— but no, we will not use such a word, we used to think him a gen- tleman at least, but he said on your behalf:— " We have heard a good deal about the noble lords poetry, but I should like to hear some of Baron Rothschild's poetry — a Jew's poetry must be a curiosity indeed." Indeed! how miserable a failure is this attempted bit of sarcastic insolence. Because a Jew— he cannot write poetry; then what are the Psalms of David— the song of Solomon— the exulting hymns of Moses and Miriam, and the song of the " Three Chil- dren?" My lord, I should blush for such backers. " Call you that backing your friends?" I spare you further comment as my space is filled up. Ypurs, & c. PAUL PR*. FASHION versus FEMALES. To Paul Pry, Esq. DEAR PAUL,— Perambulating the Regent's- park, last Sunday, my invariable Sunday custom, my attention was attracted by a great agitation amongst a concourse of ladies. They were frowning and looking most dreadfully black at something or other, in a manner truly apalling to behold. My first impression was, that some naughty— naughty rake bad teen taking liberties with them. But then, as I argued to myself, they would not appear so extremely cross, there would be a smiling meekness in their resentment, a be- witching, " yon- shouldn't- be- so- naughty" look about thfero, instead of that petrifying indignant expression that agitated their countenances. j; To enable me to elucidate the mystery, 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE r walked across the road, and what do you imagine, Mr. Paul, created this sensation? Why, Sir, a lady ( the wretch) had the impudence to be attirei! in garments that threw the whole female portion of the Park completely in rhe shade. Her dress was, apparently, most costly, and con- sequently the envy she created was immense. No roui conld ever have rent female hearts as she did. One young lady, in last year's polka, fainted; and two others, in unfashiona- ble cardinals, went into strong hysterics;— these were, I'm pleased to add, immediately attended to by some humane pickpockets ( a most attentive body of gentlemen, whenever any circumstance of that nature occurs). Being rather de- sirous of knowing who the lady was that caused this sensa- tion, I took the liberty of following her until she arrived at Hyde Park corner, at which place she was met by a ghastly- looking spectre— I can designate him nothing else, so hag- gard and pale did he appear! This was her beloved husband; who. I have heard, slaves twenty hours, out ofthe twenty- four, to supply his wife with silks and satins. Such is the way he appreciates and rewards her love and kindness towards bim. From over- working himself, the poor wretch is in a gallopping consumption. But then, Mr. Paul, though sbe may deaden and take the light from her husband's eyes, by her extravagance, she has the satisfaction to know that she takes the shine out of her neighbours likewise— a thing dearest to a woman's heart; and if she does send her hus- band to the land of shades, does she not, in accomplishing it, put her neighbours in the shade also? No doubt the latter is the most pleasing experiment of the two, as her husband earns a deal of money, and consequently she will feel his loss mnch when he dies. Do not surmise, Mr. Paul, that X desire to encourage women to murder their husbands: quite otherwise. I advise married women to consider that the circumstance of losing their husbands, however trifling in itself, still brings immense trouble with it. When a husband dies, his loss is not by any means the greatest his wife sus- tains— she also loses her beautiful polkas, her beloved cash- meres, and her own dear three- flounced. If they were to give this a more serious consideration it's my belief they would be more careful of their husbands' health. There was poor Mr. * * * *, the engraver, who used to work from six in the morning to midnight,— when he died his wife's Srief was immense; she had to part with her most costly apparel, to liquidate the funeral expenses. I never beheld a wife grieve so much at her husband's death before;-- and well she might, for she now walks about in such beggarly attire, that her friends and acquaintances do not know her. I would advise all married women, who desire to be dashing, and turn their noses up very high, to insure their dear hus- bands' lives for, I'll say, £ 1,000; by so doing, they could dash away at a most extravagant rate, and give a scornful defiance to the future. I must now, dear Paul, conclude, as Ma's boring me to lake my morning gymnastic in mangling, au exercise T take expressly to improve my digestive organs. Dear Paul, I remain yours affectionately, S CSI ANN AH Br. ACK. PAUL AMONGST THE PUBLICANS. " BONGS, HAVE AT TB ALL!" PAUL IN THE PLAYHOUSE. THE PRINCESS'S. Something, at once ludicrous and melancholy, is connected with the performances at this house on Thursday. The benefit was announced on behalf of Mdlle. Von Ro- mani, an actress and an artiste of most, decided talent. She is young, beautiful, and pains- taking, and we regretted for her sake, and for that of the German company, that the Attendance was so miserably thin. We were seated in the pit. there being plenty of room lo lounge at ease, when about ( 3 o'clock, the musicians came into the orchestra, and then there was a pause— an ominous pause. One dark faced individual who plays a bass viol, was evidently of a republican turn. He held a whispered con- sultation wilh two or three, and the orchestra was in a moment all but deserted. There was a slight uproar among the ' gods;" but besides the first hurst, all were very patient, while ill the mean- time, the going in and out of the orchestra increased ; and after about half- an- hour, Mr. A Harris, we presume, came forward, and with a " Ladies and Gentlemen, Herr Roeder has req—-" a roar broke in upon the oration ; but after order was restored, he said—" Herr Karl Formes is in the house ; but positively declines appearing before you!" This was a stunner! It was a position so embarrassing, that none knew how to get out of it, till an ingenious " chap," in the gallery, cried out—" Pay him!" whereupon there was great satisfaction expressed. " Formes or TIN !" shouted another. The first was a suggestion, the latter a menace. The speaker, after ineffec- tually attempting to prevail upon the audience to accept Hermanns as a substitute, retired, and another half- hour of hisses, groans, and shouts passed, when Mr. Harris again made his appearance and annonnced that " arrangements were being made and Herr Formes would play," and Herr Formes did play, act, and sing, the part of Marcel, in the sublime Huguenots, in a manner most magnificent. It seemed as if the truly great artist wished to make up to the audience Mdlle. Romani was " THE OLD CHESHIRE CHEESE," WINE- OFFICE COURT, FLEET STREET. " Making darkness visible;"— and well may we write so, who undertake to enlighten the public, respecting the above house. Striking out of Fleet- street ( a thoroughfare dear to us on account of its pleasant associations, the scene of so much wit, humour, and dissipation in former times) where once stood the Devil tavern, long noted as the place of resort for the wit3 connected with the inns of court, who formerly, as now, compensated for their lack of business in their pro fession, by contributing their mites to the world of literature and science, and subsisted often on that camelion dish, ideality. t Where now stand those celebrated hostelries " The Cock,' 41 The Rainbow," and a host of others ? We proceed up a dark and narrow passage, called Wine- Office- court, and soon we perceive a tavern of mean appearance, having a lamp outside, bearing the inscription of " The Old Cheshire Cheese — Dolamore." On entering, we find two small, gloomy, incon- venient rooms, where the rays of the sun never penetrate; in either of these you are provided with chops, steaks, fee., and whatever you choose to call for in the intoxicating line; hut, reader, beware; be careful to ask the prices before you order, else your purse may not be full enough to discharge the claims made on you. We will give the charges for two articles paid by us the last time we visited this economical house, and leave our readers to form their own conclusions: two small chops ( without bread or potatoes) Is. 2d.; two plates of peas ( mere handful— peas were 6d. a peck that day in the market) 8d. We need say no more; hut will remark, that if you have butter here you will get a piece so large, that, it is the exact size of half- a- crown both in circumference and depth. It must be confessed that the liquors are excel- lent ; but the seats ( hard boards) are so uncomfortable, that we can never sit to enjoy them. This place, we believe, has a high reputation for rump- steak puddings, we cannot vouch for its correctness, never having tried the dish here; but we feel sure, that the renown attained by " The Cock," as an admirable place of concealment for gentlemen desirous of avoiding the scrutinizing glance of bailiffs, ought to he shared equally hy " The Old Cheshire Cheese." The rooms are so dark, that to discover a person ill a far corner would require the aid of Staite's wonderful electric light. POSITIVES AND COMPARATIVES. A basin of Scotch oatmeal is thick,- but the head of a fool is thicker. A cliesnut horse is a brown animal; but a baker's oven is a browner. A puncheon of spirits is frequently a rum article; but a large glass is a rummer. When the heat is at 100 deg. it is a loarm day; but old women, of course, will tell you that a saucepan is a warmer. The ladies call Tom Duncombe a smart man; but the cat- o'- nine- tails is a smarter. Anything tart is a sharp affair; but a churchwarden who steals the parish funds is a sharper. CORRESPONDENCE. *,,* Every tetter fur the future, containing advice, must he ac- companied by six postage stamps. 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 ! ! ! TRY ERE YOU DESPAIR.- HOLLOWAY S PILLS. CURE OF ASTHMA.— Extract of a letter fron Mr. Benjamin Mackic a respectable Quaker, dated Creenagh, near Loughidl, Ireland dated September lltli, 1848.— To Professor Holloway.— Respected Friend : Thy excellent Pills have effectually cured me of an Asthma which afflicted me for three years to sucli an extent, that I wa> obliged to walk my room at night for air, afraid of beiug suffocated if I went to bed by cough and phlegm. Besides taking the fills I rubbed plenty of thy Ointment into my chest night and morning. ( Signed) BENJAMIN MACKIF.' CURE or TVPHUS FEVER, WHEN SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE POINT OF DEATH.— A respectable female in the neighbourhood of Loughall was attacked with Typhus Fever, and lay for five days without having tasted any description of food. She was given over by the Surgeon, and preparations were made for her demise. Mr. Benjamin Mackie, the Quaker, whose case is referred to above, heard of the circumstance, and knowing the immense benefit that he himself had derived from Holloway's Pills, recommended an immediate trial, and eight were given to her, and the same number were continued night and morning for three days, and in a very short time she was com - pletely cured. N. B. - From advice just received, it appears that Colonel Dear who is with his Regiment in India, the 21st Fusileers, cured himself of a very bad attack of Fever by these celebrated Pills. There is no doubt that any Fever, however malignant, may be cured by taking, night and morning, copious doses of this tine medicine. The patient should be induced to drink plentifully of warm linseed tea or barley water. CUBE OF DROPSY IN THE CHEST.— Extract of a letter from J. S. Munday Esq., dated Kennington, near Oxford, December 2ud, 1843. — To PROFESSOR HOLLOWAY— Sir,— My Shepherd for some time was afflicted with water on the chest, when I heard of it, I immediately advised him to try your Pills, which he did, and was perfectly cured, and is now as well as ever he was in his life. As I myself received for his seemingly ungracious refusal, also in excellent voice. But another case, which appeared in the " police reports," sprang out of this, which, we regret to see, has arisen out of the almost destitute condition of the poor people who form the chorus. The German company has neverbeensoneglected; it began with talented men, and was to a certain degree sup- ported. the secret of the whole is, mismanagement—- a selec- tion of poor and unattractive operas. We have given them our cordial support, because we like German people and German character, more than any other class of men on the continent of Europe, and although they have been a total failure on the whole, still when the causes are known, such might be avoided for the future. Surely Hen's Pischek, Formes, nnd several other talented men and women, might assist their poor brothers at a benefit. Such a thing would yet retrieve all for them. We suggest this in she hope of seeing it attempted to be carried out. ITALIAN OPERA, HAYMARKET. The return of Madame Sontag to the stage, after an absence of so many years— a legitimate absence, without " humbug" about it— has caused quite a furore in the musical world. As Linda, when she first descends themountain path, a thunder of applause greeted her; and her singing, pure, brilliant, and effective as ever, was received with reiterated bursts of enthusiasm. ADELPHI. We saw the Knight of Arva on Wednesday evening and were disgusted with Mr. Hudson's coarseness. He seems to have bid an entire farewell to every particle of his former refinement. The air of vulgarity which pervades this house spoils every one. And Webster's Royal Red Book, on Thursday, borrowed again from the French, only proves Bed- ford and Wright to be greater buffoons than ever. Such a toleration of every violation of good taste is altogether execrable. W. C— K, ( Strood).— Please tn refer to our first notice J. M., ( Chelsea).— We mean to say, unless accompanied by six postage stamps, we will not guarantee its insertion in our journal. EMMA.— Your first) letter was in type ere we received your second, and asitmatteredlittle « hether the Convent wasgiven in full or not, we printed it just as it was sent. We thank you for the interest you take in our behalf. R. M.— Have the goodness to refer tn our first notice. VrcriM.— Send us your real name and address, and your letter shall have insertion. It is highly necessary in such a case as yours we should have a guarantee of its truth ere we insert your remarks in our journal. „* tOur Sheffield correspondent who enclosed his card to us, is thanked. The greatest attention will ever be paid to his communications, which, to ensure insertion in the current number, should reach our office by the Friday prior to our day of publication, which is every Wednesday morning at 7 o'clock, punctually. No. 4 is in print, No. 2 is not. A SUPPORTER OP PAUL PRY, F South Shields).— We think with you that our journal should have something about South Shields in it, and shall be happy to receive commu- nications from you weekly. *** Our North Shields friend may depend upon us. Any- thing he may favour us with shall have every attention paid to it. II. H. G., CNewcastle).— We have inserted your communica- tion, but it should have been accompanied with six postage stamps. To the other part of your letter, not particularly so in your case. L. C.-— No letter should contain more than one advice, more particularly in London, as we receive six or seven daily from almost every locality in the metropolis. TOMKINS.— The PAUL PRY is regularly sold by the most respectable publishers in town and country. There has not, nor will there ever appear, the least tiling approximate to a libel in its pages. If there had been, you may depend upon it it would soon have been laid hold of. It was originally established for the purpose of exposing abuses in society, whieh we take credit to ourselves for having fearlessly done. J. H., ( Gt. Marlow).— If you will seud us six postage stamps we shall be happy to remit you three copies through the post. BENEDICT, ( North Shields).— If you can send us anything from your quarter, you may depend upon us paying every attention to it. *„* A correspondent at Greenwich has sent us no less than three sides of foolscap, closely written, with the request that it might be inserted in our present number; we beg to decline such voluminous contributions. Read our first notice. J. T.— Your letter was so wretchedly written that we could not possibly waste our time in attempting to decipher it. Many other letters besides your own, for the same cause, we have been compelled to consign to the flames. PEGASUS OF THE PEA, ( Newcastle).— We have shown your, to us, admirable translation, to lawyer's f: ig " Villay," who states on his honour, ( a rather questionable commodity, by the way) that it is not anything like the sense he wished to convey. The fact is, he being rather senseless, or perfectly so, in a fit of insanity indited a letter which really contained no meaning whatever. As to your MSS., if they suit ns wp will rnake use of theip. so astonishing a cure last year from your Pills and Ointment, it has ever since been my most Earnest endeavour to make known their excellent, qualities. ( Signed) J. S. MONDAY. THE EABL OF AI- DBOROUGH CUBE © OF A LIVER AND STOMACH COM • PLAINT.— Extract of a letter from his lordship, dated Villa Messiua Leghorn, 21st February, 1845— To PBOFESSOR HOUOWAV.- Sir,— Various circumstances prevented the possibility of my thanking you before this time for your politeness in sending me your Pills as you did. I now take this opportunity of sending you ail order for the amomit, and at the same time, to add that your Pills have effected a cure of a disorder in my Liver and Stomach, whieh all the most eminent ofthe Faculty at home, and all over the Continent, had not been able to effect; liay, not even the waters of Carlsbad and Ma- rienbad. I wish to have another box and a pot ofthe Ointment, in ease any ot' my family should ever require either. Your most obliged and obedient servant. ( Signed) ALDUOROUOII. CUBE OF A DEBILITATISD CONSTITUTION.— Mr. Mate, a Storekeeper of Gundagai, New South Wales, had been for some time in a most delicate state of health, his constitution was so debiliated that his deatli was shortly looked upon by himself and friends as certain; but as a lorlorn hope, he was indueed to try Holloway's Tills, which had an immediate and surprising effect upon his system, and the result was to restore him in a few weeks to perfect health aud strength, to the surprise of all who knew him. He considered him case so extraordinary that he, in gratitude sent it for publication, to the Sydney Morning Herald, inwhich paper it appeared on the 2nd January, 1848. A few doses of the Pills will quickly rally tlie energies of both body and mind, when other medicines have failed. These celebrated Pills are wonderfully efficacious in the following complaints. Drospsy Inflammation Sore- throats Dysentery Janudice Stone and Gravel Erysipelas Liver Complaints Secondary Symp. Female Irreg- Lumbago toms Piles Tic- Doulourenx Rheumatism Tumors Retention of Ulcers Urine Veneral Artec- Scrofula, or King's tions Evil worms of all kinds Debility Weakness from Scurvy whatever cause Sold at tlie Establishment of PROFESSOR IIOLLOWAY, 244, Strand, ( near Temple Bar,) London, and by most all respectable Dniirgists! and Dealers in Medicines throughout the civilized World, at the following prices:— Is. l| d., 2s. 9d„ 4s. Gd., Us., 22-\, 33 s. each Box. There is a considerable saving by taking the larger sizes. IN. B.— Directions for the guidance of Patients in everv Disorder are affxed to each Box. Ague Asthma Bilious Com- plaints Blotches on the skin Bowel Com- plaints Colics Constipation of the Bowels ularities Fevers of all kinds Fits Gout Head- ache Indigestion Consumption EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS OF THE NEW REMEDY. — UPWARDS OF 17,000 CURES WITHOUT A SINGLE FAILURE. T\ R. WALTER DE ROOS, l. Ely- place, Holborn- hill, London lJ earnestly invites every one suffering from those dangerous dis eases arising from Solitary Habits, Excesses, and Infection in a their stages and varieties, which from improper treatment so frequently end in Skin Ernptions, 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 and 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 he 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 caae^, as that will render a personal visit unnecessary. Females may, with the utmost safety, confide themselves to the care of Dr. DE ROOS, as the most inviolable secrecy and delicacy are observed, and as no two patients are ever admitted at the same time, to the same room, or allowed to depart together, the posssibilit) of contact, or exposure, is entirely prevented. — Advice, with medicines, £ 1. Patients corresponded with till cured. Hours, 10 till 1, andt ill 8 ; Sundays, 10 till 1.— Post Office Orders payable to Walter de Roos, M. D., 1, ELY- PLACE, HOLBORN- HILL, LONDON. Read Dr. de Roos' Celebrated Work. Just published, 64th Thousand, 144 pages, Illustrated with numerous Coloured Engravings, in a sealed envelope, from the Author, in English or French, 2s., or free by post for 32 Stamps. THE MEDICAL ADVISER. An Essay on the Obligations ot Marriage; the Treatment and Cure of all those Secret Disorders arising from early Excesses and Infections, with plain directions fo r the removal of every disqualification. This work is indeed a boon to the public, as it has the two- foid 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: H. HILL, 9, Market- place.— Bristol: COOK, Sims- place.— Manchester: HYE, WOOD, Oldham- street.— Leeds: A. MAN*.— Glasgow: W. LOVE, Nelson street.— Derby: BROOKES, St. Alkmunds- churchyard.— Leicester: BILLSON, Bellgrave- gate.— Beverley: WARD, Butcher- row.— Banbury: BUNTON, Cherwell- street.- Sheffield: ROGERS, Fruit- market.— Brighton: TOUBLE, 57, Edward- street.— Newcastle- on- Tyne: FRANCE & Co., 8, Side.— Bradford, Yorkshire: W. COOKE, Yicar- lane. Printed and Published by the Proprietor, G. JOHM » T9NB, 12, court, Brydges- streetp Strand.