buckled the sword about him-the sword with which, by a pretty fiction, the knight was to defend the borough of Liquorish from all sorts of wrong. Capstick, with the weapon at his thigh, advanced with great dignity; and was for a time regardless of the showers of eggs and potatos that, from the liberal hands of the Blues, immediately greeted him. The young Lord St. James-how Snipeton leered at him!-also appeared on the hustings, and accidentally received full in his face an egg, certainly intended for the visage of the successful candidate. It was plain, too, that Capstick thought as much, for he turned, and taking out his pockethandkerchief, advanced to his lordship, and in the politest manner observed," My lord, I have no doubt that egg was intended to be my property will you therefore permit me to reclaim my own?" -and saying this, Capstick with his white kerchief removed the offensive matter from his lordship's face, whilst the crowd-touched by the courtesy of the new member-laughed and cheered uproariously.

Mr. Capstick then advanced to the front of the hustings. At the same moment a potato fell short of him, near his foot. Whereupon the member drew his sword, and running it into the potato, held it up to the mob. Another laugh-another cheer greeted the action. "Silence! he's a rum 'un-hear him! was the cry, and in less than ten minutes the new member was permitted to proceed. Whereupon he said:

"Gentlemen-for gentlemen in a mob are always known by their eggs and potatos-I should, indeed, be unworthy of the honour you have placed and showered upon me, did I in any way complain of the manner in which you have exercised the privileges I see lying about me. I am aware, gentlemen, that it is the free birthright of Englishmen-and may they never forget it!—to pelt any man who may offer himself for the honour of representing them in Parliament. It is right that it should be so. For how unfit must the man be for the duties of his office-for the trials that in the House of Commons he must undergo-if he cannot, properly and respectfully receive at the hands of an enlightened constituency any quantity of mud, any number of eggs or potatos that in their wisdom they may feel disposed to visit upon him. I should hold myself a traitor to the trust reposed in me, did I at this moment of triumph object to either your eggs or your potatos." (Very loud cheering; with a cry of "You're the sort for us.") "No, gentlemen, I look upon

eggs and potatos as, I may say, the corner-stones of the Constitution." ("Three cheers for the Constitution," roared Rasp, and the Yellows obediently bellowed.) "Nevertheless, permit me to say this much. Feeling the necessity that you should always exercise for yourselves the right of pelting your candidates with eggs and potatos-permit me to observe that I do not think the sacred cause of liberty will be endangered, that I do not believe the basis of the Constitution will be in the smallest degree shaken, if upon all future elections, when you shall be called upon to exercise the high prerogative of pelting your candidates, you select eggs that are sweet, and first mash your potatos."

Laughter and loud cheers attested the reasonableness of the proposition. When silence was restored, young Lord St. James stood forward. His rival, he said, was for a time nominally their candidate. A petition to the House of Commons would, however, speedily send him back to his proper obscurity. His lordship was prepared to prove the grossest bribery

"The box of guineas!"-"Who stole the gold?' was shouted from the mob, and Tom Blast himself boldly halloed— "Who stole the guineas?"

Doctor Gilead stept forward.

66

'My friends," he said, "it is true that a box of money was stolen-but, my friends, you will rejoice with me to learn that the box is recovered."

"Gammon!" cried Blast wildly.

"The thief or thieves had cast the box into my fish-pond; but I have just been informed that on dragging the pond for carp-I had given the order before I quitted home-the box has been found! Three cheers, my friends!"

Blast groaned and the Blues huzzaed,

The ceremony of chairing was duly performed, Bright Jem witnessing the triumph with a heavy heart: but Matthew Capstick, Esq., M.P., (he had been duly qualified by Snipeton,) as he was paraded along the streets of Liquorish had no wish ungratified —yes, there was one, a little one. It was merely that the late Mrs. Capstick could, for a very brief time, look up from her grave and see her elected husband as he rode!

ART AND MISERY.

AMID the treasures of the Sculptor's art
Entranced I stood;-each form my, sight
Drank wondering in, till overflow'd my heart.
With Beauty's strange delight!

The brightest thoughts of Greece were gathered there,
Her faith's divinest mysteries:-
What later ages dimly strove to share,

And what the present tries.

There the Apollo held his lordly head,
Watching the deed he'd done :

A God-like act-yet, more the God display'd,
The look that he put on.

Faint with excess of beauty linger'd there
The Indian Bacchus ivy-crown'd;
As from his locks the balmy Eastern air
Seemed floating all around.

The Satyr's face glow'd with the jocund time
When laughter leapt from tree to tree,

And echoed through the groves beneath the clime
Of golden Arcady.

And there the Thunderer heaved his awful brows
O'erfraught with sullen majesty,

Like to some frowning cliff beneath the snows
In cold solemnity.

And gentler Woman found her every grace

The cold white substance sweetly warm :—
Her love, and power, and beauty fill'd the place
Shrined in some fairy form-

As Psyche claim'd the rightful clasp of Love,-
Athené beam'd with wisdom bright,-
Affection's power in Niobe could prove-
Goddess as Aphrodite !

The swift Bacchanté showed her lighter mood-
Hebe, the gentle ministrant ;-

In each and all man's holiest, highest good,
His first, his last sweet want.

From these I pass'd, and in the City's haunts
Of direst crime and misery,

Exchanged Soul's empire for its saddest wants;
Love for depravity.

I saw the straighten'd forehead branded deep
With the hot touch of burning sin-
The blooded eye that knew not how to weep,
And spoke the fire within.

And gentle woman had a Harpy's form,
A voice all strange to mirth or song:

Her love, a scorching passion, could not warm-
A curse usurped her tongue.

And rudely now contended in my heart

The World's sad truth, the Greek's ideal;
And sore I strove to reconcile the art
With the unsightly real.

By that I saw Humanity a God,

This show'd my fellows less than men :-
There seemed it o'er ambrosial clouds I trod,
Here breathed a Stygian fen.

How vain, methought, for man to give by art
A mind to stones so dull and mute;
And let a brother from his rank depart,
To sink below the brute!

But Art forbade me in her power despair,
And whisper'd,-Man has yet to learn,-
My visions are not vainly bright and fair,
My fires not falsely burn:

For Beauty never looks with scornful eyes
On sin and woe's deformity;

And where her love is, ne'er can vainly rise
Pity's ingenuous plea.

A Power there is shed o'er the hearts of men
These wide extremes may reconcile,—

Give Misery a fairness in his ken

Who basks in Beauty's smile.

Such Power hath warm'd the coldness out of Art,
Lit Classic forms with genial life;
Dethroned the ancient Gods,-but to impart
Souls with affections rife.

The universal brotherhood of man

In one all loving God united,

Brings these far-sundered poles within the span
Of souls this truth hath lighted.

From both alike doth highest Wisdom flow-
By art we soar on wings of beauty

Up to his throne-while Sin and Sorrow show
The blessed path of duty!

H. N.

ON

THE DISADVANTAGES OF NOT BEING A DWARF.

I AM one of that unfortunate class who have to work for their bread. I make no bones of confessing-and I would all the world were so honest that I should be very happy to dispense with the work, if the bread did not go with it. However, I have to support myself; the public will not support me. I am no lion; my name is not in everybody's mouth. My form has never been puffed in the newspapers as "perfectly symmetrical." I can state fearlessly, that I have never been reported to possess a "beautiful and intellectual countenance." Nor has it been asserted of me in print, that I am "a perfect man of mind, intellect, and beauty." To continue my list of negations-my equipage has never been paraded round the streets; in truth, I have not even a wheelbarrow to parade; and I never gave any "levees," because I don't believe anybody would come to them. Further, I defy any one to assert with truth, that I have been three times invited to Buckingham Palace by the special command of the Queen herself, or that I have received from her Majesty even the very slightest present. The Queen Dowager has been equally inattentive. I pledge the public my word of honour, that that illustrious lady never gave me a magnificent watch, set with brilliants. The Duke of Wellington, I regret to say, has been not a cubit more generous and discerning. I was at Paris last season without having been invited to the Tuileries. Louis Philippe, in fact, only permitted me to waste my sweetness on the desert air of a decidedly uncomfortable bedroom au cinquième. To finish the catalogue of my griefs, I cannot state with strict truth, that I have been "patronised by all the principal crowned heads of Europe;" nor that the newspapers have made me a personage of so great importance, as to cause the insertion of fabricated accounts of my capture by bandits; while, to crown all, neither the maids of honour at court nor the ladies of the West-end ever purchased of me, at the cheap rate of a shilling apiece a narrative of my life and a kiss into the bargain.

That I have been thus neglected, thus left to blush and bloom