TOWN TALK.

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

F course the world to-day is fully occupied with devotions at the shrine of St. Valentine, being blown about like a bubble by Dan Cupid. Nevertheless I shall do my duty as Saunterer in Ordinary, and review the events of the week. First of all, there is the opening of Parliament by HER MAJESTY in person. It is funny to observe that while every

body is sneering at BRIGHT for objecting to court-dress, the QUEEN's refusal to wear her robes, though, as the Times observes, she did not mind setting on them, seems rather in favour of that gentleman's views. The sparring began early on the answer to the speech. In the Lords, LORD NORMANBY moved, and LoRD MORLEY seconded, the address, neither of their speeches being very striking. After them came a lot of little lords, chiefly enlarging on the supineness of Government about the Cattle Plague. EARL GREY was one of them, and said, "want of judgment and want of vigour was their only fault;" from which I conclude that want of grammar were his. THE DUKE OF ARGYLL earned the blessings of Government by coming up to the scratch on their behalf, but was followed by LORD DERBY, who spoke well about Jamaica, and humorously about the Reform Bill. But when he quoted a member of the other house "who not long since spoke with great courtesy of expression of our dirty and unhallowed fingers'; " I fear his lordship forgot the sort of language MR. FERRAND is in the habit of using about his opponents. LORD RUSSELL wound up the debate with some remarks which he appears to have thought were not worth hearing.

In the Commons, LORD CAVENDISH and MR. GRAHAM were mover and seconder, and did their work fairly. Here, also, the Cattle Plague was the prominent subject; and LORD BOB MONTAGUE took an early opportunity of showing his intelligence. Government found more defenders in the Lower House. The adjournment of the debate was moved by MR. O'DONOGHUE, erroneously styled "The O'D.," who probably has something new to remark about Irish bulls. Jamaica and Reform were also touched on here.

Apropos of Reform, I have had forwarded te me a curious extract from a drama of DOUGLAS JERROLD'S, Midnight at Madame Tussaud's. MARMOSET, the manager, is supposed to be conversing with the wax figure of LORD J. R. (a celebrated Reformer of that day). Here is the passage:

"LORD J.-By the way, MARMOSET, will you do me a great favour?

"M.-Is it to get up Don Carlos? I'm very sorry but my leading tragedian is at present in Horsemonger-lane, and

"LORD J.-No, no, the favour I solicit is

"M.-To dramatise the Reform Bill? It will be long for a play, but if yourself or any of your friends can manage to reduce it to a farce--"

From the promise held out in the QUEEN's Speech, I am inclined to think MR. MARMOSET might play the people in with the piece this

season.

THE Dudley Gallery has a capital show of pictures this year. A special private view for the press was given on the Friday-an admirable arrangement; but even then a few ladies were smuggled in, and rather disturbed the critical serenity by their usual remarks, "La! isn't that like MRS. JONES ?" and "Oh, what a lovely blue!" and "Dear me, isn't that like the place we were at last autumn ?" remarks which are very charming, but not calculated to promote a calm contemplation of art. And really the critic needs merciful consideration with so large a collection to go through. There are, in fact, too many pictures, and I believe it would have been better to shut out two hundred more

than have been excluded. CALDERON, LAMONT, and PINWELL exhibit good work; and among the landscape painters are GOODWIN, DITCHFIELD, MOORE, MAWLEY, and A. SEVERN. MR. SIMEON SOLOMON and a few others show traces of a servile following of MR. JONES, apropos of whom I must tell a funny story. At the Old Water Colour I saw an old gentleman gazing with wonder and disgust at one of that artist's pictures. "Who's that?" he asked of his daughter, who stood by with the catalogue. "BURNE JONES," she replied. "I wish they would!" said paterfamilias, with emphasis. And if the disease is to spread as it is doing, one will feel almost inclined to echo him.

THERE has been a change of proprietorship in some of the magazines of late. Temple Bar becomes the property of MR. BENTLEY, but will continue to be edited by MR. EDMUND YATES-it is one of the best shillingsworths. An attempt is to be made to raise the Sixpenny to a better position, but I fear it will be a hard struggle. The Cornhill this month opens with a bad imitation of MILLAIS-the artist can do better things, and should not copy the style of others to please any one. MR. THOMAS's illustrations this month are the best he has done. London Society is better than usual; the Argosy not worse, and the Shilling much as it was.

I HAVE received a little book entitled Systematic Memory. The plan is very ingenious, but as it starts at the outset by requiring you to learn a complicated table with a scheme belonging to it, I can't help thinking it would be easier to learn what you wish to learn without this involved machinery. It would appear to be easier to remember 832 as a number than to burden one's brains with a rigmarole about a ray of light coming in by a chimney." When I went in for my "Law and Modern History," at Oxford, I learnt the dates of the Kings of England by a similar memoria technica, and got off by heart a rhyme about "Will Consau, Hethdas," etc., which I remember to this day, but having unfortunately forgotten the key, can't get at my dates after all!

I HAVE had my Valentine! An elegantly scented one from RIMMEL, with a really artistic design of a fairy clad in a flower-the green calix being the body of the dress and the petals forming the skirt.

The Fourteenth of February.

PAST AND PRESENT.

In the days I was young and was gushing,
When my gloves and affections were new,
When I constantly found myself blushing
With the candour of frank twenty-two;
I indulged in thoughts, words, occupations,
That my manhood has since put away,
And awaited with great expectations
The advent of Valentine's Day.

Would the post bring me tidings to thrill me
With blank disappointment or joy;
Would missives to cheer or to chill me
Greet my eyes from MATILDA, or FLOY?
Ah, me! I was strangely poetic!
I teemed with acrostic and lay,
If not graceful, at least energetic,
Ere the advent of Valentine's Day!

Tempus fugit: the prospect is altered!
My manners have changed with the times!
The lips which in sentiment faltered,
No longer give utt'rance to rhymes!
No longer in visions romantic,

My breakfast I'm fain to delay,
Nor indulge in contemplative antic
On the morning of Valentine's day.
MATILDA beside me is seated,

Though sylph-like no longer, but stout;
My cherubs the postmen have greeted
With most unmelodious shout!
The billet I open-between us

Suggests in a practical way
That not only in high Courts of VENUS
Are bills due on Valentine's Day!

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