THE C. P. is not a laudator temporis acti. The tempus actum was a good sort of thing for its age, but it was young, and didn't know any better. It had a great deal to learn, and as it grew up it made due progress. It was a good sort of boy in its way, but it was not an infant phenomenon. It learnt its lessons slowly, but it learnt them, and remembered what it learnt. It took a great many years to learn that blue paint was an insufficient walking dress-that shoes, with toes a yard in length, were inconvenient when their wearer was in a hurry-that, in the absence of umbrellas and hackney cabs, showy feathers, velvet doublets, and bucket boots were expensive things to wear in a heavy shower-that tights and pantaloons were difficult things to put on and to take off-that coat collars coming above the ears were ungraceful additions to an ordinary walking coat, and that crinolines were inconvenient and indelicate nuisances. However, it learnt all these things in time, so the C. P. won't be too hard on it.

resort to such shallow devices for the purpose of taking you in) he celebrates his triumph with an irritating chuckle, like an ungrateful conjuror who has invited a member of his audience to assist him in his delusions, and ends by making a public fool of him. This inconvenient donkey began his evil career at an early age with a singular but apparently harmless request that when he said "I one my mother," you would reply with the incoherent remark "I two my mother," and so on, through the early numerals until you found that you had committed yourself to the statement "I eight "- that is to say, hate-"my mother," at which undutiful admission you were expected to be overwhelmed with confusion and remorse. He is fond of asking you riddles that have no answers - he bets you that he will make you leave your room between five and six in the morning, and if you take his bet, he will write five on one door post and six on the other, and will then expect you to pay him. If any of his riddles have answers they are of a nature in the highest degree uncomplimentary to yourself-you are unlike the head or tail of a donkey because you are no end of an ass, or you are like a motherless lamb, because you are not worth a dam.

The C. P. will be accused of a daring innovation on received opinions when he ventures to assert that in no respect has the tempus actum so materially improved as in the matter of Wags. This is, he admits, a dreadful thing to say, and he is prepared for a shower of anecdotes about Oxford scholars, righte merrie jesters, certain wits, pleasaunte fellowes, cunning wags, and so forth, in contravention of his assertion. He will give you SIDNEY SMITH, he will give you THEODORE HOOK, he will give you SHERIDAN, he will give you STEELE, he will give you OLIVER GOLDSMITH, he will not give you DOCTOR JOHNSON, he will give you SMOLLETT, SWIFT, and STERNE, and, perhaps, a dozen others (including, as a matter of course, the late MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE) as instances of wags who are quite up to the modern mark of first-class waggery, and in some instances, considerably beyond it. But it must be remembered that many of these eminent gentlemen were working an almost virgin mine-they were shooting over a moor before the birds became scarce or shy. A hundred years ago there were fewer means of publishing the death of a good joke than there are now, and two hundred years ago there were fewer still. If MR. H. J. BYRON had lived in the halcyon days that immediately preceded the manufacture of the riddle about a door being a jar, what a rollicking time he would have had of it! He could have written a burlesque a day with the utmost ease. In point of fact, with our ancestors of two hundred years ago a very small joke went a very long way, whereas, nowadays, a joke must be very new and very good to go any distance at all. The C. P. does not take into consideration the very small jokes that go a very long way in certain burlesque theatres, because the people who howl with joy over them are the very people who encore break-downs, and they may, therefore, be considered as entirely beyond the pale of sane society. As a rule, the best burlesque jokes don't "go" at all; they are appreciated only by the most intelligent and least demonstrative portion of the audience. The C. P. finds himself straying into a dissertation on modern burlesques, which was not the task he set himself when he

began this paper. He proposes to deal rather with private than with public wags -with those social swindlers who are continually wanting you to honour intellectual drafts on a bank at which they have no effects.

Here is a modest beginner. He lets out his little jokes in a timid, hesitating way, blushing and tingling all over, and especially down the back, if they happen to fall unheeded. He is the direct opposite of the gay blusterer who stands first in this paper, but there is no saying that he will not grow up into him, in time. It is a common device of his to try the value of his jokes by putting them, in the first instance, as good things he has heard somebody He is a constant anonymous contributor to the waste-paper basket of this journal, and his contributions are invariably accompanied with a pretty little complaint which he supposes will have the effect of tickling the personal vanity of an Adamantine Editor. Emolument is to him as nothing, compared with the distinction of descending to posterity in "the humblest corner of this Admirable Journal."

else say.

Bab

Here is a good-natured old wag of the old school. He doesn't come out very strong at home, except when he is carving a joint at dinner, on which occasion he throws in a few matter-ofcourse jokes, the perpetration of which he looks upon rather as a duty to society-like the grace-than as anything else. But it is when he is in a theatre, or in a public conveyance, or on a race-course, or at a public meeting, or a review of Volunteers, or a Lord Mayor's show, that he comes out in fullest force. On these occasions he always contrives to place himself on intimate terms with the persons who happen to stand or sit next to him, and upon these much-suffering beings he pours forth the vial of his fun. He would as soon think of throwing away a DOLLOND's telescope because he had once looked through it, as of discarding a joke because he had once uttered it. He wears a wig, the C. P. verily believes, solely because it is a provocative of sly jests, and it is not impossible that a similar

Here is a particularly horrible specimen of this misguided race. He is particularly horrible because he is not only guilty of the common dishonesty of his class, but having committed the crime, he endeavours to lay it at your door. He will give birth to a peculiarly aggravating jokelet, and then he will affect to thrust you from him with a "Go along, you dog!" as if you, and not he, had been guilty of the offence. He is very angry with you if you don't see his jokes at once; and if you do, or affect to do, he will give you no mercy. The best opponent to a man of this kind is another of his own class-they will go on at each other like those vindictive insects known to school-boys as "soldiers and sailors," until both retire exhausted from the contest.

Here is another objectionable specimen of the Social Wag. He is a wag who is continually preparing little intellectual pitfalls for you to tumble into, and when you tumble in (which, as a matter of course. you do, not supposing that anyone could think it worth his while to

consideration influenced him when he made up his mind to grow stout.

Here is an amateur ventriloquist, which means that he is a gentleman who has acquired, with infinite pains, the art of chuckling with the root of his tongue instead of with the tip of

Bal that instrument.

Bab

PARIS PENCILLINGS.

BOHEMIA-IN-PARIS.

DEAR SIR,-I write in a state of excitement bordering on lunacy!! I have tasted bl- I mean beer!!! None of your sodariferous Strasbourg! None of your bunged-up Bock Royal!! But beer, sir! Real beer! Bière Anglaise. Drawn from a real beer-engine, and handed to me in its native pewter by a Being! A beauteous! blithe!! bewitching!!! Being!!!!

Pardon my notes of admiration. Only step for one moment across the channel into my shoes, and I will explain all. In those cases imagine that you for the last six months had been banished from your native land, and had exchanged the society of well-beloved fellow students for the company of grubby, shock-headed étudiants of the odoriferous quartier Latin. That you had in vain looked for the unaffected charms and real colour of an English girl and found no better substitute than the trim, chic, and painfully conscious "Blondinette!" Tho' I must own her colour is magnificent!! or I'm no judge of painting! Rosy! I believe you! It's like her cheek! I say, sir, imagine that this, had happened to yourself, and that, in the midst of your despair, you had heard rumours of a Grand English Refreshment Buffet at the French Exhibition-where the most lovely daughters of Albion preside over the taps!! Well, well may the Siècle talk of "les belles déesses Anglaises tronées au comptoir !"

'Tis indeed a sight, I assure you, to stand at one end of the room and look straight down the counter and observe the expression of spooniness on the faces of all nations.

You ask for some notes on the Machinery Department. People may talk of the Great American Engine there! I say, go and see the Beer Engine in the Refreshment Department! I had intended giving

S

Sallust

Presto Adder

Newsman Ida Sword

H Hero

TORNADO

CORRECT SOLUTIONS OF ACROSTIC No. 6, RECEIVED 24TH APRIL. -Mew mew; Fifty-seven; Blackheath; Jib-jobbey.

you a general account of the whole Exhibition, but I must defer that till some other time.

Having so far clearly explained the cause of my perturbation of mind, I know you will pardon the wild and ecstatic manner in which I have commenced this letter! I should not have visited the Exhibition so soon, had I not read in all the London papers and periodicals that it was a "gigantic fiasco!" Now being curious to know what sort of a thing a fiasco was, never having heard of one before, I went, and I blush to add I have not yet discovered, unless it is the Italian for gasometre.

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I did visit the picture galleries, and was much struck with the gawdy and vulgar appearance of the English school! There are a good many old favourites though. There is some "Scented Soap and Spinach" of LEIGHTON's; and MILLAIS' "PEPPER'S Ghost Going to Bed" causes much wonderment among foreigners who are not used to it. I overheard a veritable Yankee ask "Who that gay old rooster" was "a-lettin' out a reef,"-a vulgar but forcible description of the "Eve of St. Agnes." WHISTLER'S "Little White Girl" has been ironed out flat since I saw her last.

Of course the place swarmed with noble Britons. By-the-bye, how is it that all the Englishmen with red whiskers and projecting teeth like tombstones will come to Paris? It is high time the French had something new in the way of a caricature of "Le triste Anglais." SureLY some of MR. VANCE's swells that strut about would answer the purpose well! Yours,

PAINT POTTS.

"FUN" may be obtained in Paris every Wednesday of MESSRS. KIRKLAND AND Co., No. 27, Rue de Richelieu.

OME into the garden, Maud, for the black bat, night has flown-as MR. TENNYSON remarks. For "night" read "winter," and nous voilà! May seems to have effectually scared the lingering rear-guard of cold and frosts; the lilacs are in bloom, the apple-trees are bursting their coral buds, and hfe is becoming a thing to enjoy, not endure. The Academy and the picture galleries generally are open as well as the lilacs. Of the first-named, more next weekit is not always easy, even for the most imaginative among us, to describe a thing we have not seen, and at the time of this present writing, as far as I am concerned, the Trafalgar Square show is like the Spanish fleet-(I may say this now, without endangering our peaceable relations with Spain)-I cannot see it, because it is not yet in sight. The Old and New Water Colours are on view, though, and both are well worth seeing. elder society does not give us enough, in my opinion, to take the taste of the BURNE JONESES out of one's mouth. Nevertheless, WALKER, WATSON, HAAG, BOYCE, and SHIELDS, do splendid work for the honour of the gallery. MR. BASIL BRADLEY, hitherto known only as a draughtsman on wood, appears as a new member, and contributes one or two fine pictures. Ma. LAMONT is another who does much; but I wish his figures were less spectral and flimsy. The picture which perhaps catches hold of the memory most is HUNT'S " November 11th, One o'clock, P.M." In the younger society, the like is done by CARL WERNER'S "Thebes," with its group of "Majestic Silences," as the philosopher of Cheyne Walk would call them, seated round, a quiet Nile pool; one of them bending forward as if to see more clearly the reflection of its own decay. HINE, SHALDERS, VACHER, BACH, CATTERMOLE, HAYES, and MOGFORD, sustain the rising repute of the Institute, and LINTON, the latest addition to the list of members, vindicates the justice of his election. Moreover, one or two of the ladies contribute worthy work-I can't say so much for the female Associates of the Old Water Colour.

The

THE French Gallery has a better display than I ever remember to have seen. The finest thing in the Gallery is a landscape by TROYON, like one of TURNER'S best. VIBERT and ALMA TADEMA also show to advantage; and there is, "on the premises," a splendid picture of "King Candaules," by GEROME, which is truly glorious.

THE National Portrait Exhibition is open. I have not yet visited it; but I trust it is better managed than that of last year. Our wellbeloved COLE" has done enough for one year in the selection of works which he has made to discredit English Art at the Paris Exhibition. I hope he has not found time to "manage" the portrait show, too! Iand several members of the Royal Family-were at the Prince of Wales's Theatre on Saturday week, and we enjoyed the performance of Caste greatly. It is one of the best-written and most evenly acted pieces it has been my good fortune to see. MR. YOUNGE, to my mind, makes a very decided step in his impersonation of the hero, a part which at first sight seems to be out of his line. Eccles is a character full of dangerous temptation, which MR. HONEY is not always able to resist. Sam Gerridge is a slight part, which the genius of MR. HARE endows with vitality and prominence. Altogether, the performance is a rare treat. It is, perhaps, as well to add, that I have not (as the papers state that a member of the Royal Family has) "enjoyed the performance of the great VANCE" lately. When I do, I will take care to admit the fact in large type. At present, I regret to say, I see no probability of my taste coinciding with that displayed, in this instance, in high quarters.

THE magazines are to hand. The illustrations to Cornhill are fair this month, especially that to "Stone Edge," in which, however, the contemplative damsel might have been spared a little more arm. Contents; heavy-ish-but an article on blank verse valuable. I can't say so much for some Notes of Swiss Travel, enlivened (?) by very

amateurish sketches. London Society whould show better if the first illustration had been better engraved, and the second (by the late PAUL GRAY) better printed. The best part of "Playing for High Stakes is SMALL's illustration, which is charming. The worst part of "A Strange Courtship," I am inclined to think, after long deliberation, is the cut that is supposed to illustrate it. Of T. B., Argosy, and Belgravia next week.

ROUTLEDGE'S Magazine for Boys keeps up its repute, in spite even of MR. Ross's having attempted beauty and high art in lieu of the unadorned bad drawing by which he has hitherto distinguished himself. "The Waves and their Inmates" and the "Electrotype Process" are full of information as well as entertainment. The Gardener's Magazine will be welcome at this momentous season of the year to all who take an interest in flowers-and who does not? For those who take an interest in artificial flowers-and in these days a single pansy of moderate size constitutes a bonnet-Le Follet will be abundantly pleasant.

LONGFELLOW's translation of DANTE'S Inferno has made its appearance. It is one of the most readable versions of the great Italian's work that I have met with, and is supplemented by copious notes such as might be expected of a scholar like the professor. The edition before me-MESSRS. ROUTLEDGE AND SONS'-is well turned out.

I am glad to see that COLONEL RICHARDS's claims as the chief originator and promoter of the Volunteer movement of 1859 are about to be acknowledged. I do not care for Testimonial Presentation as a rule, but in this case it is as well that something should be done to establish the gallant Colonel's claim to be the man who called our Volunteer army into existence.

CORRECT SOLUTIONS OF ACROSTIC No. 7, RECEIVED MAY 1ST.-Tooting; Monaline; Carriglen; Hamish; Mamie; F. H.; Snip; Brymer; E. J. D.; A. T.; A. Gowk; Fanny and Kate; Cab; Lazybones; Stick in the Mud; Carver and Gilder Dot; Brick Court; Hermit; Xarifa; R dagisus; Sciatica; Trank and Maria J. S.; Query; Curly Green; D. E. H.; The Six Balls; Deep Thought; Hallie; Gad; H. E. V. D.; Sheernasty; Ginger; Tyrtaus; Monks; A. de M; Three Sprats: Schneider; Emma; R. A. C.; Fosco; Byngs; Bumblepuppy; J.W.; Lechuza; F. J.G. W.; Attempt.