There's

encourage the lower classes to add to themselves? nothing that money won't do; and I've no doubt whatever that, for some years to come, all children at Mile-end will be born by threes and fours. A shrewd fellow like you must have remarked how people imitate one another. You never yet heard of an odd act of suicide, or any kind of horror with originality in it, that it did n't for a little time become the fashion as if it was a new bonnet, or a new boot. And so, among the lower orders it will be, in the matter of babies. Now, if Mrs. Clements had been sent to prison for the offence, then the evil might have been nipped in the bud; but to reward her for her three babies who could show no honest means of providing for themselves, why it's flying in the face of all political economy. Three babies at once at Mile-end is monstrous. Even twins should be confined to the higher ranks.

You'll be glad to hear that we 've been giving a round of dinners to your Chinese hero, Sir Henry Pottinger. At Manchester, he was hailed as the very hero of cotton prints. They dined him very handsomely, and you may be sure there was a good deal of after-dinner speaking. A Rev. Canon Wray answered the toast for the Clergy. I once read of a melancholy man, who thought all his body was turned into a glass bottle, and so would n't move for fear of going to pieces. Now, I'm certain of it, that there's a sort of clergyman, who, after some such humour, thinks himself a forty-two pounder; for he is never heard at a public meeting that he does n't fire away shot and gunpowder. The Rev. Canon said (or rather fired) his thanks, that Sir H. Pottinger "had opened a way for the march of the Gospel." Now, Michael, I never heard of any artillery in the New Testament. And he further said,

I

"British arms seem scarcely ever to know a defeat. In the east, west, north, and south, our soldiers and sailors are, in the end, ever victorious. cannot but think that, as Great Britain holds the tenets of the Gospel in greater purity than any other nation, so she is intended by the Divine will to carry inestimable blessings to all distant benighted climes."

Well, Michael, I've heard of a settler in mistake sowing gunpowder for onions; but the Rev. Canon Wray, with his best knowledge about him, thinks there's nothing like sowing gunpowder for the scriptural mustard-seed." I suppose he's right, because he's a canon; and therefore not to be disputed with by your ignorant, but affectionate Brother,

66

JUNIPER HEDGEHOG.

LETTER V. TO MRS. BARBARA WILCOX, AT PHILADELPHIA.

DEAR SISTER,-It gave me much pleasure to learn from your letter that yourself, husband, and baby got safe and sound to your present home. You ask me to send you my portrait. It is n't in my power to do so at present; but if I should be unfortunate enough to kill anybody, or set a dockyard a-fire, or bamboozle the Bank-or, in short, do anything splashy to get a front place in the dock at the Old Bailey, you may then have my portrait at next to nothing. Then, I can tell you, it will be drawn in capital style -at full length, three quarters, half length, and I know not what. I've read somewhere that in what people call the good old times -as times always get worse, what a pretty state the world will be in a thousand years hence!-when there were dead men's heads on the top of Temple Bar, grinning down, what people call an example, on the folks below, that there used to be fellows with spy-glasses; and, at a penny a peep, they showed to the curious all the horror of the aforesaid heads, not to be discovered by the naked eye. Well, the heads are gone ;—and the spy-glass traders too; but for all that, there's the same sort of show going on, and a good scramble to turn the penny by it, only after a different fashion. Murderers are now shown in newspapers. They are no longer gibbetted in irons; no, that was found to be shocking, and of no use:-they are now nicely cut in wood, and so insinuated into the bosoms of families. The more dreadful the murder, the greater value the portrait; which, for a time, is made a sort of personal acquaintance to thousands of respectable folks who pay the newspaper owner-the spy-glass man of our time-so much to stare at it as long as they like.

I am certain that the shortest cut to popularity of some sort, is to cut somebody's throat. A dull, stupid fellow, that pays his way and does harm to nobody,—why, he may die off like a fly in November and be no more thought of. But only let him do some devil's deed-do a bit of murder, as coolly as he'd pare a turnip : and what he does, and what he says; whether he takes coffee, or brandy-and-water" cold without ;" when he sleeps, and when he wakes; when he smiles, and when he grinds his teeth,—all of this is put down as if all the world went upon his movements, and couldn't go on without knowing 'em. To a man, who wants to make a noise, he doesn't care how, all this is very tempting. I

hope I mayn't come to be cut in wood,-but still one would like to make a rumpus some way before one died.

There's commonly an Old Bailey fashion, the same as a St. James's fashion. Just now-as you want to know all the domestic news-poison's carrying everything before it. "Twould seem as if people suddenly thought their relations rats, and treated 'em accordingly. I never yet tried my hand upon a book, but I do think that I could throw off a nice little story with lots of arsenic in it, a sort of genteel Guide to Newgate. I've been reading about a lady, one Tofana, who made a great stir some years ago. She could give arsenic in such a manner, that she set people for death, as you'd set an alarum. She got a good many pupils, young married ladies, about her, who all of 'em put their husbands aside like an old-fashioned gown. Now, I do think that a novel called The Ladies' Poisoning Club; or Widowhood at Will, would just now make a bit of a stir. I don't mean to say that I could write a book; that is, what folks call write: but I've a knack; I know I could imitate writing, just as an ape imitates a man. The subject grows upon me. I certainly think, I shall make a beginning. However, of this you shall hear more by the next packet. I do think I could make a hit in what I call arsenicated literature. There's arsenicated candles, why shouldn't there be arsenicated books ?-In haste,

Your affectionate brother,

JUNIPER HEDGEHOG.

P.S.-If I do the book, I shall follow it up with a sort of moral continuation, to be called The Stomach Pump.

New Books.

DIARIES AND CORRESPONDENCE OF JAMES HARRIS, THE FIRST EARL OF MALMESBURY. Edited by his SoN. Vol. III.-Bentley.

Ir was in the year 1794, that Lord Malmesbury was officially despatched to Brunswick by George the Third, to demand for his hopeful son, the Prince of Wales, the hand of the Princess Caroline. The Prince, that his debts might be paid, had graciously consented to suffer matrimony; and his cousin was the chosen victim. As Lord Malmesbury's account of this mission is by far the most interesting part of this

volume; as it moreover supplies abundant proofs that kings and princes may, after all, be very vulgar people; we shall confine our extracts to his Lordship's description of his delicate task, ending with the fatal marriage of the Princess Caroline with the "First Gentleman in Europe." Alas! for the reputation of the First Gentleman! What is it now? Gone, like a burst bladder.

His lordship gives the following portrait, in little, of the bride elect:"The Princess Caroline (Princess of Wales) much embarrassed on my first being presented to her-pretty face-not expressive of softness-her figure not graceful-fine eyes-good hand-tolerable teeth, but going-fair hair and light eyebrows, good bust-short, with what the French call'des épaules impertinentes.' Vastly happy with her future expectations."

The Duchess Dowager, a shrewd old lady, with a perfect appreciation of the character of George the Third, her brother, comes out, a capital gossip, in the book. She told Malmesbury among other things, that "all the young German princesses had learnt English, in hopes of being Princess of Wales." All, of course, but one, had a lucky escape. As for the Princess's father,

"He entered fully into her future situation was perfectly aware of the character of the Prince, and of the inconveniences that would result, almost with equal ill effect, either from his liking the Princess too much, or too little. He also touched on the Queen's character, with which he is perfectly acquainted. He was rather severe on the Duchess of York -he never mentioned the King. He said of his daughter, Elle n'est pas béte, mais elle n'a pas de jugement-elle a été élevée sévèrement, et il le fallait.' The Duke requested me to recommend to her discretion not to ask questions, and, above all, not to be free in giving opinions of persons and things aloud; and he hinted delicately, but very pointedly, at the free and unreserved manners of the Duchess, who at times is certainly apt to forget her audience. He desired me to advise her never to show any jealousy of the Prince; and that, if he had any goûts, not to notice them. He said he had written her all this in German, but that enforced by me, it would come with double effect."

It appears that some little bird had whispered in the ear of the Princess the ominous name of the Countess of Jersey; a person, whom the delicacy of the Prince of Wales made a Lady of the Bedchamber to his wife.

"She asked me about Lady Jersey-appeared to suppose her an intriguante, but not to know of any partiality or connection between her and the Prince. I said that in regard to Lady Jersey, she and all her other ladies would frame their conduct towards her by hers towards them; that I humbly advised that this should not be familiar or too easy, but that it might be affable without forgetting she was Princess of Wales; that she should never listen to them whenever they attempted anything like a commérage, and never allow them to appear to influence her opinion by theirs. She said she wished to be popular, and was afraid I recommended too much reserve; that probably I thought her too prone à se livrer. I made a bow.

She said, 'Tell me freely.' I said, 'I did ;' that it was an amiable quality, but one which could not in her high situation be given way to without great risk; that as to popularity, it was never attained by familiarity; that it could only belong to respect, and was to be acquired by a just mixture of dignity and affability; I quoted the Queen as a model in this respect. The Princess said she was afraid of the Queen-she was sure she would be jealous of her and do her harm. I replied, that, for this reason, it was of the last consequence to be attentive towards her, to be always on her guard, and never to fail in any exterior mark of respect towards her, or to let drop an inconsiderate word before her. She took all this in good part, and desired me to continue to be her mentor after she got to England, as well as now. She said of her own accord, 'I am determined never to appear jealous. I know the Prince is léger, and am prepared on that point.' I said I did not believe she would have any occasion to exercise this very wise resolution, which I commended highly; and entreated her, if she saw any symptoms of a goût in the Prince, or if any of the women about her should, under the love of fishing in troubled waters, endeavour to excite a jealousy in her mind, on no account to allow it to manifest itself; that reproaches and sourness never reclaimed anybody; that it only served as an advantageous contrast to the contrary qualities in the rival; and the surest way of recovering a tottering affection was softness, enduring, and caresses; that I knew enough of the Prince to be quite sure he could not withstand such a conduct, while a contrary one would probably make him disagreeable and peevish, and certainly force him to be false and dissembling."

Many conversations are chronicled, in which Malmesbury gives advice worthy of the best thoughts of Polonius. Alas! the nuptial commissioner utters his gravities to unprofitable ears.

"Masquerade.—I walked with the Princess Caroline, and had a very long conversation with her. I endeavour not to mix up much serious matter at such a place, but whenever I found her inclined to give way too much to the temper of the entertainment, and to get over-cheerful and too mixing, I endeavoured to bring her back by becoming serious and respectful. When we returned to the balcon' (the masquerade was in the Opera House), she entered, of her own accord, into the kind of life she was to lead in England, and was very inquisitive about it. I said it would depend very much on her; that I could have no share in settling it, but that my wish was, that in private she might enjoy every ease and comfort belonging to domestic happiness, but that when she appeared abroad, she should always appear as Princess of Wales, surrounded by all that appareil and etiquette' due to her elevated situation. She asked me what were the Queen's drawing-room days? I said, Thursday, and Sunday after church, which the King and Queen never missed; and I added that I hoped most ardently she would follow their example, and never, on any account, miss Divine Service on that. day. Does the Prince go to church?" she asked me. I replied, she would make him go; it was one of many advantages he would derive from changing his situation. But if he does not like it?' 'Why, then, your Royal Highness must go without him, and tell him that the fulfilling regularly and exactly this duty, can alone enable you to perform exactly and regularly those you owe him--this cannot but please him, and will, in the end, induce him also to go to church.'"