YOUNG ISRAEL IN PARLIAMENT.

MR. DEPUTY CORNEY, in that august assembly, the Common Council, whereat-by a beautiful civic fiction-the ligneous powers of a Gog and Magog are wont to attend, inspiring speakers. Mr. Deputy Corney has made a terrible hit at Young Israel. It is the too frequent evil of our times that men speak from the emptiness of their knowledge; just as drums sound the loudest for having nothing in them. Corney is not of these. Corney is full of knowledge; so full, that it runs out at his lips. He has studied Jewish history. He has worked up to his elbows in Josephus; and we doubt not, if he suddenly found himself at Jerusalem, he might, from his instinctive knowledge of the ins and outs of the place, earn a very decent livelihood as guide or ticket-porter. Well, Deputy Corney will not permit Jews to sit in parliament. Wherefore? Why

cuticle. The metal shines through him, coloring
him outside; even as poultry fed on maize take the
yellowness of their daily food. We doubt not
that, if, in the time of the panic, Rothschild had
been taken as he ought to have been-by the
strong arm of the law, and violently, yes very vio-
lently, shaken, his inside would have jingled like a
money-box. He would have rattled, a very anat-
omy of shekels. And are we without a remedy in
future? Shall we, as a nation of money-despising
Christians-shall we, as Englishmen, who, above
all people in the world, refuse to bend their honest,
stubborn backs to those idols, £. s. d., set up in
high places; shall we henceforth suffer the Jew to
take his drain of gold to our common injustice and
perplexity? Certainly not.
Punch modestly sug-
gests a remedy.

The ancient vice of "sweating" coin lies at the door of the Jews. They have been known to throw millions of guineas into leathern bags, and "From the earliest periods of their history, the when there to violently agitate them, grinding the Jews were known and acknowledged to be a peo- faces of monarchs-as other folk's faces are elseple possessing no consistent political feeling. (A where said to be "ground"-that they may perlaugh.) They were not admirers of the monarch-spire drops of their precious composition. When ical principle. (Laughter.)

the next panic occurs, let every Jew be cast into a leathern sack, that the gold in his stomach may, by wholesome exercise, be made to exude through his skin. When the Jew cannot be shaken in a bag, let him be well tossed in a blanket.

They certainly were no great admirers of King Pharaoh but, at the present time, we think it is going a little too far back to take up the quarrel of his Egyptian majesty. This disregard of crowns and royal jewels-a well-known weakness or igno- There is, to be sure a readier, a more wholesale rance, call it which you will, of the Jews-is as way than this; though we fear the squeamishness nothing to a vice of which Christian London, with of modern sensibility will reject it. Otherwise, we its Christian merchants and bankers, and stock-should propose the establishment of a huge national brokers, know so little we allude to a love money. Hear Corney

crucible, where, upon the return of every panic, every suspected Jew should be thrown in and "In fact, and there was no use in concealing that melted, and the pure ore separated from the cartruth, money was the element in which they delight- cass; the dross-for, we hope, we would not vioed. They had an intuitive fondness for and power late the last feelings of humanity-the dross to be of grasping that element, and nothing could check returned, for decent burial, to the melted Jew's or abate the appetite. (Increased laughter.) relations. Let Sir Robert Inglis immediately bring This is also true. Yes; we believe it to be in a bill for a Jew's Crucible; earning for himself a lamentable fact, that the young Jew, having the applause of all the truly Christian world, with amassed his first five pounds, has an "intuitive" three cheers more" from Exeter Hall in particular. fondness" towards making the five ten, the ten We are, however, neglecting Deputy Corney. twenty, the twenty forty-and so on; a disgusting habit, of which Christian tradesmen know nothing. Deputy Corney has moreover, accidentally no doubt -as the greatest discoveries have heretofore been Thus-according to Corney-the "essence" of arrived at-thrown a brilliant light upon the dark-commerce is to knock down your own brother to ness of the currency question. Now we know the highest bidder. Cain, in his heart, was, no the reason of the late scarcity of gold. Listen to doubt, the first Jew. Corney.

66

Why, their love of money was so great, that when Jerusalem was besieged by Titus, they swallowed quantities of gold, and the common soldiers were actually obliged to rip up their bowels to come at the precious metal."

66

They were, in truth, essentially a commercial people. They would sell their own brothers." (Great laughter.)

"It was really a serious thing to contemplate a Jewish legislature. And if one Jew were to get into parliament, he could not see why fifty should not follow."

This we take to be a truth really too deep for laughter. For let us consider the habits of a great body of the Jews, with whom Punch, by the way, is more intimately connected (need he say the Old Clothes Interest?) Consider their opportunities of sapping a Christian constituency. How many a man would be likely to sell his voice with his wornout coat, the Jew clothesman being, of course, provided with money by the Rothschilds to pay for both in a lump. The deputy continues :

Here we have it. We rightly talk about a "drain of gold." The very vulgar, we believe for Punch is too genteel to offer himself as an authority on the question-the very vulgar speak of "a drain of gin." Now the Jew being a tremendous dram-drinker of the sort, is continually taking this drain of gold. Could we some weeks back have seen the Rothschilds, and the Solomons, and the Levis, and the Slomans in their hours of "Only think of fifty Jews in the House of Com privacy, we should at once have known where the mons! Why, Lord John Russell was prettily gold went, inasmuch as we should have beheld the bothered to manage fifty of the Irish members; Hebrews "swallowing quantities"-taking drain what a condition would his lordship be in if fifty after drain from the bank cellars, to the consterna- Jews were to be added to the fifty Irish !" tion of Plutus, time out of mind the bank butler. It is with great deference that we hesitate an The complexion of the Jew shows him to be a adverse opinion to such a sage as Corney; but in gold-drinker. He has a Midas' skin-a golden the matter of a Judaico-Hibernico Parliament, we

think that Lord John would be greatly relieved by fifty Jews being opposed to fifty Irish. They might haply react the well-know historical tragedy of The Kilkenny Cats-John O'Connell, of course, standing out from vulgar mélé, and dying in dignity by himself.

A Jew is of no nation, says Deputy Corney; or, rather, he is of all nations; his body being a sort of harlequin-like anatomy, made up of bits and patches from all corners of the earth.

"A Jew was as much a Pole, or a Russian, or an Asiatic, as an Englishman, and if that people got into parliament, they might, at the sound of a trumpet, scamper off to the promised kingdom, and leave the parliament to work for itself. (Laughter.) They would sacrifice their seats and everything but their money, upon hearing the divine call.'

There is much matter in this for serious contemplation. The effect of Jews in parliament upon our commerce is of minor importance; though two bills that Baron Rothschild has already prepared in his pocket-the one to prohibit the importation of Westphalia hams, and the other a check upon all individual enterprise-being no less than a bill to prevent any Christian from driving his pigs to the best market-though, we say, these bills are subversive of our prosperity and freedom, they are as nothing to the likelihood of the Jews taking their usual "drain" of gold at the sound of the "trumpet," and scampering off to the promised kingdom.

To be sure, our soldiers-like the soldiers of Titus —might apprehend the runaways; and whereas, in the olden time, the warriors, with cold steel, ripped up the Jewish bowels for the stolen goods, we, with improved humanity, would displace the sword by the stomach-pump.

"BUTLERS PANTERY, PORTLAN PLASE. "SIR,-As the riter of all rongs I rite to you in consekwense of a meating held the other day for the ab-bo-lishun of Christmas-Boxes. Grasious goodness! where is inundashun to sease! I said it, and what's moor, I lade a glass of brandy-andwarter to back it, that when the Corn Laws went, we all went. Is tradesmn prepaird to cut one of the funded principles of our glorius constitushun, for if Christmas Boxes is not menshuned in Magnar Charter, they ought to have bean? Is tradesmn to hovercharge and we get nuffin by it? Is we to do the willful waste, and then have the wofull want of our natural parquesights?

"When I red the acc' in the newspaper it ware in the Kitching, afore all our famely. If, sir-and I speck within bouns-if, sir,—and I woodn't if it warn't the fact-if, sir-a wotsaname they fire off at Wullige when raining monarqs pays 'em a visit, had droped down among 'em, they cool not have been more compleatly-Ile rite the word agen to give it a hemfaciss-more compleatly as-tonished. Sir I've look'd in Jonson's dicksonairy for a word strong enuf to Express our younited indignashun, and cant find won! To you we apples! Stand our frend, and obleege besides, 10,000,000 others.

WE WON'T ADJOURN TILL MORNING.

SONG FOR LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

To be sung to Order on Mr. Brotherton's Motion for
the Adjournment of the House at 12 o'cloek.
WE won't adjourn till morning,
We won't adjourn till morning,
We won't adjourn till morning,

Till daylight doth appear;
Though midnight's hour be near,
And Brotherton cry "Hear!"
When time rings out his warning,
The intimation scorning,
We won't adjourn till morning,
Till daylight doth appear.
Members-We won't adjourn, &c.

We'll go on legislating,
Haranguing and debating,
Though wives at home are waiting,
And we have no latch-key.
My hearties, what care we?
The blush of dawn we 'll see.
Continue speechifying,
With one another vying
In talking, and in trying
How prosy we can be.

Members-We won't adjourn, &c.

Too short if life's duration
Be found for legislation,
For our accommodation,

Since clock and watch won't stay ;
Why then the only way
To lengthen out the day
Is from the night, you know, boys,
To steal an hour or so, boys;
So let your periods flow, boys,
And jaw and prate away.
Members-We won't adjourn, &c.

The speaker may be snoring,
Or gape, with yawns imploring,
But we 'll persist in boring

His patience till all 's blue.
We, like a jovial crew,
Our speeches will pursue,
Though gas-light may be waning,
And Brotherton complaining,
Whilst cocks, their voices straining,
Sing"Cock-a-doodle-do!"'

Members-We won't adjourn, &c.

DRAMATIC AUTHORS' MILITIA.-The letter of the Duke of Wellington has created the "most thrilling interest" in the Dramatic Authors' Society; who, if the French take London, can, it is plain, no longer take French pieces. Most of the members have enrolled themselves as the Foolscap Rifle Brigade. A veteran translator has been unanimously chosen as colonel, and has addressed the corps in a very animated speech-"adapted" to the Society-from Napoleon's Orations. Mr. Jeffs, the foreign bookseller of Burlington Arcade, having very generously lent the heroes his first "Your ob. serv., floor front, part of the body are therein able to ex"JOHN BINNY. ercise, whilst others translate and adapt in the "P. S. I've jest heerd that 14 reglar dustmn attics. The motto selected by the corps is very of this parish, as always cheered the libral cande-appropriate : "Aut Scissors aut nullus!" dates at the Elecshun as gone over to the Torrys. So much for stoppin our Christmas Boxes!

"J. B."

COBDEN'S CHRISTMAS PRESENT.-A jar of olives to the kings of Europe.

From Mrs. Jane Fritters, in London, to Miss Anna | Then while dressing he'll fall in such fits of abMaria Megrim, Snugley House, Lincolnshire.

I TAKE up my pen, love, (there goes twelve already!)

straction,

That I'm frightened to death he'll commit some rash action;

So wildly he 'll brandish his razor about,
With nerves fairly shattered, and fingers unsteady-Rehearsing a speech to himself, I've no doubt.
To sketch for my Anna a day in the life

Of that worse-used of women, a new Member's wife.
First, all sorts of discomfort to sum in a line,
The whole session thro' we don't once really dine!
For, on Saturdays, Fritters can't eat, sleep, or speak,
He's so knocked up, poor dear, with the work of
the week,

And on Sundays, of course, as becomes wretched
sinners,

We make it a point to have wretched cold dinners. And as Fritters from prayers, you know, ne'er stops away,

He's down at the House, love, by four every day. And what with the Panic and Pressure Committee, (I do wish they'd not make such a fuss in the city ;)

And what with Coercion-(I'm sure I've no pa

tience

With those dreadful Papistical denunciations)—
As he 's anxious on every subject to tell 'em his
Mind, he puts up with a cutlet at Bellamy's.
He

says, if he ran home to dine with poor me,
He might ne 'er catch the eye of the Speaker, you

see;

For new members have never the least chance of
shining,

Unless they get up when the old ones are dining:
So that since F's return for the borough of
Snugley,

He's grown dreadfully bilious, and I really ugly;
And, in fact, his digestion, and what was my
beauty,

Have been sacrificed both on the altar of duty!
Fritters says he'll go through it, be the cost what
it will

(Dear martyr!) of conjugal bliss, or blue pill!
So here sits your poor friend, past midnight and

pens a

Sad letter (these shivers must be influenza!)
To give her dear Anna one word of advice-
When the question is popped, love-whatever the
price

It costs to say " No "—if the man 's an M.P.,
Decline; and if asked why, refer him to me.
It's not only the latch-key, and dreadful late hours,
(These, of course, one could bear, with such hus-
bands as ours ;)

But when Fritters does get home-at one, p'rhaps,

or two

He debates the debate to me, all the way through; All about Bullion-drain, (I suppose something sanatory,

Then at breakfast, instead of his tea and his toast,
All his appetite goes on the Herald or Post;
And he greedily swallows the last night's debate,
Instead of the egg, getting cold on his plate.
When I ask if he'd like his tea sweeter or weaker,
He often begins his reply," Mr. Speaker;
And if I inquire how 's his poor dear digestion,
Ten to one if I get any answer but "Question."
Then the whole morning through he 'll do nothing
but look

At some horrid "returns" or some dismal bl-
book.

(Yes, well may they call their books" blue," for

I know

They make my poor Fritters look dreadfully so.)
Till, after a wretched dull day, he declares
He must go, or he fears he 'll be too late for prayers.
And lonely I sit, till next morning, at one,
Brings back a fresh day, like that through which
I've gone.

There I shrug in my shawl, sneezing, shivering,
and shaking,

Now waking and dozing, then dozing and waking;
And of late things have grown even worse, ('t is a
true bill,)

For he 's in such a way about that horrid Jew Bill,
If he 's later than usual, I'm really so nervous,
That I fancy my F., (Goodness gracious preserve
us!)

As some members have threatened, (once I thought
it a chouse,)

Has perhaps gone and "died on the floor of the
House!"

Only think, then, my love, what relief it must be,
To hear at the street-door his poor dear latch-key!
But I'm worn to a shade, as I think you'll con-

But I daren't ask a question, for then he's ex-markable phenomenon in nature, that though frogs planatory,)

And supply and demand, and the price of a pound, (As if that was n't just the same all the world round,)

Till his talk, like the gold which occasions this bother,

Flows in at one ear, and flows out at the other.
Then, when fairly in bed, (late enough, goodness
knows,)

Every moment I'm startled up out of my doze,
By his smothered "Hear, hear," or ironical
Oh,"

may have been falling in frequent showers only a day or two before, and wonderful oysters have been turning out of their beds by hundreds, to furnish food to the penny-a-liners and paragraphs to the press, no sooner does Parliament open than all these natural wonders disappear in a manner almost as mysterious as that in which they present themselves. In the midst of an exciting session, cabbages are allowed to grow unchronicled to a mountainous size; and the oddest fish ever caught, with diamonds forming a perfect bunch of carats in his inside, creates not the smallest impression when the debates occupy

For he dreams that he's still in the House, love, the columns of the newspapers. The unhappy you know.

penny-a-liners, who are often obliged to adopt a

Gallic custom, and make a dinner of frogs-animals of whom it may be said it never rains but it pours-will be severe sufferers by the stop that is put to their customary calling through the meeting of Parliament. We have heard of old penny-aliners, who having once got an enormous gooseberry into their possession, have contrived to live upon it three months in the year, and leave it as an heir-loom to their children, like the chancery suit bequeathed by the lawyer to his posterity.

Existence is denied:

A BEDFELLOW you are, 't is plain—
A title Adam could not gain,

Till Eve was by his side.

DUCK SHOOTING.-Mustang writes from the city of Mexico that "Instead of the double-barreled fowling-piece, or the boat, sand-bag and swivel gun, the Mexicans erect a battery on shore at the edge of the lakes, where the water is of the depth of We think the frogs, the fish, and other animal from one to two feet. This battery is constructed of prodigies who have fallen into insignificance in gun-barrels, with a stock about six inches in length consequence of the commencement of the session, from the breech-pin, six barrels put upon one stock, have excellent ground for petitioning the Commons and an iron pin one inch in diameter fastened to the to take their case into consideration, and either stock and fitting into a log underneath, to prevent restore them to their accustomed consequence, or it from rebounding, and at the same time enabling offer them some compensation for the loss of it. the owner to easily remove them for the purpose of A procession of these ill-used prodigies, headed by loading them with ease and facility. The heavy a frog who has figured in all last year's showers, pieces of timber are properly placed, in order to would have considerable effect in exciting the sym-give the proper direction to the guns, five or six tier pathy of the legislature; that is to say, if the leg-high, and of a length in proportion to the number islature has sympathy to bestow upon any thing of guns the person may have. Into these timbers that is not of Irish extraction.

the guns are placed, and held by the pin running from the stock into the hole made to receive it, and

THE enigma following was published in the Ana-fastened still further by an iron elevating screw at lectic Magazine for May, 1815. He who copies it has never met with its solution, and would be happy to know it, if any kind reader of this paper will enlighten him.-Atlas.

If it be true, as some folks say,

"Honor depends on pedigree,"
Then all stand by-and clear the way
Ye sons of heroes famed of yore,
And you the sons of old Glendower-
And let me have fair play.
And ye, who boast from ages dark
A pedigree from Noah's ark,

Painted on parchment nice-
I'm older still, for I was there,
As first of all I did appear
With Eve in Paradise.
And I was Adam, Adam I,
And I was Eve, and Eve was I,
In spite of wind or weather-
But mark me-Adam was not I,
Neither was Mrs. Adam I

Unless they were together.
Suppose then Eve and Adam talking;
With all my heart-but were they walking
There ends all simile-

For though I've tongue and often talk,
And legs too, yet whene'er I walk
That puts an end to me.

Not such an end but that I've breath,
Therefore to such a kind of death

I make but small objection-
For soon again I come to view,
And though a Christian, yet 't is true
I die by resurrection.

THE ENIGMA.-We have received the following original answer to the enigma in the Atlas and Transcript of yesterday.—Transcript.

Although, good sir, I cannot claim
Either your privilege or name,-
(A bachelor am I!)
Yet, 't is not difficult to tell
The mystery you 'd keep so well,
And so the task I'll try.
Your resurrection is your end,
Because till you lie down, my friend,

the end of the breech. Thus they are directed so as to bear upon the water from 20 to 1000 yards from the battery, and others at different distances from the surface of the water, in order to take the ducks on the wing as they rise from the water. Food is placed in the water which they are very fond of, and morning and evening they come to feed in great numbers. The guns are discharged by a train of powder running along the whole length of the tiers. Thus prepared, as soon as the game gathers, they touch the barrels bearing on the water, and then as they rise they fire the balance, and by this mode they not unfrequently kill over 1000 birds at a time, which are brought to the city and sold;-however, they are often disposed of at a mere song.' How would it do to try this method around New Orleans, Mobile, Charleston, Savannah, the mouth of the Potomac, &c. &c.? If it would succeed as well there as it does here, it would enable many to feast on ducks who now only enjoy them occasionally. There is no doubt but the ducks can be induced to congregate at any place where they are properly baited for."

་

MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, ILLUSTRATED BY 120 ENGRAVINGS FROM DRAWINGS BY HARVEY.— The obligations which the reading public has been under to the Messrs. Harpers for their splendid editions of the poems of Thomson and Goldsmith, are now greatly increased by the delightful style in which they have also produced the poetical works of the " greatest bard of all the ages." Of the peculiar attractions of this edition, we may say that the illustrations, in design and execution, are eminently worthy of the great author, and that the volumes as they reach us from the Harpers are most honorable to the condition of the arts in America.

Between these classic editions of Milton, Shakspeare, Thomson and Goldsmith-the four finest of the standard poets of the language in their respective ways-we should have difficulty in choosing a souvenir to give a tasteful friend on the ensuing year. Perhaps the reader will experience the like embarrassment, and-buy them all. We ought perhaps to add that the best juvenile we have yet seen is that admirable fairy tale, entitled "The Good Genius that turned everything to Gold"-an elegantly bound edition of which, richly gilt, has just been issued by the above firm.-N. Y. Courier.