A NUT FOR THE DOCTORS.

SHOULD you ask, Who is the greatest tyrant of modern days? Mr. O'Connell will tell you-Nicholas, or Espartero. An Irish Whig member will reply, Dan himself. An attaché at an embassy would say, Lord Palmerston,

"Tis Cupid ever makes us slaves!" A French deputé of the Thiers party will swear it is Louis Philippe. Count D'Orsay will say his tailor. But I will tell you it is none of these: the most pitiless autocrat of the nineteenth century is the President of the College of Physicians.

Of all the unlimited powers pos sessed by irresponsible man, I know of nothing at all equal to his, who, mero motu, of his own free will and caprice, can at any moment call a meeting of the dread body at whose head he stands, assemble the highest dignitaries of the land archbishops and bishops, chancellors, chief barons, and chief remembrancers-to listen to the minute anatomy of a periwinkle's mustachios, or some singular provision in the physiology of a crab's breechespocket all of whom, luto non obstante, must leave their peaceful homes and warm hearths to "assist" at a meeting in which, nine cases out of ten, they take as much interest as a Laplander does in the health of the Grand Lama, or Mehemet Ali in the proceedings of Father Mathew.

By nine o'clock the curtain rises,
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displaying a goodly mob of medical celebrities: the old ones characterized by the astute look and searching glance long and shrewd practice in the world's little failings ever confers; the young ones, anxious, wide awake, and fidgetty, not quite satisfied with what services they may be called on to render in candle-snuffing and crucible work; while between both is your transition M.D.—your medical tadpole, with some practice and more pretension, his game being to separate from the great unfeed, and rub his shoulders among the "dons" of the art, from whose rich board certain crumbs are ever falling, in the shape of country jaunts, small operations, and smaller consultings. Through these promiscuously walk the "gros bonnets" of the church and the bar, with now and then a humane viceroy, and a sleepy commander of the forces. Round the room are glass-cases filled with what at first blush you might be tempted to believe were the ci-devant professors of the college, embalmed or in spirits; but on nearer inspection you detect to be a legion of apes, monkeys, and ourang-outangs, standing or sitting in grotesque attitudes. Among them, pleasingly diversified, you discover murderers' heads, parricides' busts in plaster, bicephalous babies, and shapeless monsters with two rows of teeth. Here you are regaled with refreshments "with what appetite you may,"

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and chat away the time, until the tinkle of a small bell announces the approach of the lecture.

For the most part, this is a good, drowsy, sleep-disposing affair of an hour long, written to show, that from some peculiarity lately discovered in the cerebral vessels, man's natural attitude was to stand on his head; or that, from chemical analysis just invented, it was clear, if we live to the age of four hundred years and upwards, part of our duodenum will be coated with a delicate aponeurosis of

sheet iron.

Now, with propositions of this kind I never find fault. I am satisfied to play my part as a biped in this breathing world, and to go out of it too, without any rivalry with Methuselah. But I'll tell you with what I am by no means satisfied, nor shall I ever feel satisfied-nor do I entertain any sentiment within a thousand miles of gratitude to the man who tells me, that food-beef and mutton, veal, lamb, &c. are nothing but gas and glue. The wretch who found out the animalculi in clean water was bad enough. There are simple-minded people who actually take this as a beverage: what must be their feelings, now, if they reflect on the myriads of small things like lobsters, with claws and tails, all fighting and swallowing each other, that are disporting in their stomachs? But

only think of him who converts your cutlet into charcoal, and your steak into starch! It may stick to your ribs after that, to be sure; but will it not stick harder to your conscience? With what pleasure do you help yourself to your haunch, when the conviction is staring you in the face, that what seems venison, is but adipose matter and azote? That you are only making a great Nassau balloon of yourself when you are dreaming of hard condition, and preparing yourself for the fossil state when blowing the froth off your porter.

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Of latter years the great object of science would appear to be an earnest desire to disenchant us from all the agreeable and pleasant dreams have formed of life, and to make man insignificant without making him humble. Thus, one class of philosophers labour hard to prove that manhood is but monkeyhood-that a slight adap

tation of the tail to the customs of civilized life has enabled us to be seated; while the invention of looking-glasses, bear's grease, cold cream, and macassar, have cultivated our looks into the present fashion.

Another, having felt over our skulls, gravely asserts, "There is a vis a tergo of wickedness implanted in us, that must find vent in murder and bloodshed." While the magnetic folk would make us believe that we are merely a kind of ambulating electric-machine, to be charged at will by the first M. Lafontaine we meet with, and mayhap explode from over-pressure.

While such liberties are taken with us without, the case is worse within. Our circulation is a hydraulic problem; our stomach is a mill—a brewing vat a tanner's yard-a crucible, or a retort. You yourself, in all the resplendent glory of your braided frock, and your decoration of the Guelph, are nothing but an aggregate of mechanical and chemical inventions, as often going wrong as right; and your wife, in the pride of her Parisian bonnet, and robe a la Victorine, is only gelatine and adipose substance, phosphate of lime, and a little arsenic.

Now, let me ask, what remains to us of life, if we are to be robbed of every fascination and charm of existence in this fashion? And again— has medical science so exhausted all the details of practical benefit to mankind, that it is justified in these farwest explorations into the realms of soaring fancy, or the gloomy depths of chemical analysis? Hydrophobia, consumption, and tetanus are not so curable, that we can afford to waste our sympathies on chimpanzees: nor is this world so pleasant, that we must deny ourselves the advantage of all its illusions, and throw away the garment in which Nature has clothed her nakedness. No, no. There was sound philosophy in Peter, in the "Tale of a Tub," who assured his guests that whatever their frail senses might think to the contrary, the hard crusts were excellent and tender mutton; but I see neither rhyme nor reason in convincing us, that amid all the triumphs of turtle and white bait, Ardennes ham, and puté de Strasbourg, our food is merely coke and glue, roach lime, starch, and magnesia.

A NUT FOR THE ARCHITECTS.

"GOD made the country," said the poet: but in my heart I believe he might have added "The devil made architects." Few cities-I scarcely know of onecan boast of such environs as Dublin. The scenery, diversified in its character, possesses attraction for almost every taste: the woody glade-the romantic river-the wild and barren mountain-the cultivated valley-the waving upland-the bold and rocky coast, broken with promontory and island are all to be found, even within a few miles of the capital; while, in addition, the nature of our climate confers a verdure and a freshness unequalled, imparting a depth and colour to the landscape equal to the beauty of its outline.

Whether you travel inland or coastwise, the country presents a succession ot sites for building, there being no style of house for which a suitable spot cannot readily be found; and yet, with all this, the perverse taste of man has contrived, by incongruous and illconceived architecture, to mar almost every point of view, and destroy every picturesque feature of the landro scape.

The liberty of the subject is a bright and glorious prerogative; and nowhere should its exercise be more freely conceded than in those arrangements an individual makes for his own domestic comfort, and the happiness of his own home.

That one man likes a room in which three people form a crowd, and that another prefers an apartment spacious as Exeter Hall, is a matter of individual taste, with which the world has nothing whatever to do. Your neighbour in the valley may like a cottage not larger than a sugarhogshead, with rats for company and beetles for bed-fellows; your friend on the hill-side may build himself an ima ginary castle, with armour for furni ture, and antique weapons for ornaments;-with all this you have no concern-no more than with his banker's book, or the thoughts of his bosom: but should the one or the other, either by a thing like a piggory, or an incongruous mass like a jail, destroy all the beauty and mar all the effect of the scenery for miles round, far beyond the precincts of his own small tenure

should he outrage all the principles of taste, and violate every sentiment of landscape beauty, by some poor and contemptible, or some pretentious and vulgar edifice then, do I say, you are really aggrieved; and against such a man you have a just and equitable complaint, as one interfering with the natural pleasures and just enjoyments to which, as a free citizen of a free state, you have an indubitable, undeniable right.

That waving, undulating meadow, hemmed in with its dark woods, and inirrored in the fair stream that flows peacefully beneath it, was never, surely, intended to be disfigurea with a square house like a salt-box, and a verandah like a register-grate: the far-stretching line of yellow coast that you see yonder, where the calm sea is sleeping, land-locked by those jutting headlands, was never meant to be pock-marked with those vile bathing-lodges, with green baize draperies drying before

them.

Was that bold and granite-sided mountain made thus to be hewed out into parterres for polyanthuses, and stable-lanes for Cockneys' carmen?or is the margin of our glorious bay, the deep frame-work of the bright picture, to be carved into little terraces, with some half-dozen slated cabins, or a row of stiff-looking. Leesor street-like houses, with brass knockers and a balcony? Forbid it, heaven! We have a board of wide and inconvenient streets, who watch over all the irregu larities of municipal architecture, and a man is no more permitted to violate the laws of good taste, than he is suffered to transgress those of good morals. Why not have a similar body to protect the fairer part of the created globe? Is Pill-lane more sacred than Bray-head? Has Copper-alley stronger claims than the Glen-of-the-Downs? Is the Crosspoddle more classic ground than Pollaphooca?

A NUT FOR THE BELGIANS.

IF you happen to pass by Dodd's auction-room, on any Wednesday, towards the hour of three in the afternoon, the chances are about seven to one that you hear a sharp, smart

voice articulating, somewhat in this fashion :-"A very handsome teaservice, ladies. What shall I say for this remarkably neat pattern? One tea-pot, one sugar-bowl, one slopbasin, and twelve cups and saucers.Show them round, Tim," &c.

Now it is with no intention of directing the public eye to the "willow pattern," that I have alluded to this circumstance. It is, simply, because that thereby hangs an association, and I have never heard the eloquent expatiator on china, without thinking of the Belgian navy, which consists of "One gun-boat, one pinnace, one pilot, one commodore, and twelve little sailors." Unquestionably, there never was a cheaper piece of national extravagance than this, nor do I believe that any public functionary enjoys a more tranquil and undisturbed existence than the worthy "ministre de la marine," whose duty it is to preside over the fleet I have mentioned. Once, and once only, do I re nember that his quiet life was shaken by the rude assault of political events: it was when the imposing force under his sway undertook a voyage of discovery some miles down the Scheldt, which they did alike to the surprise and admiration of the whole land.

After a day's peaceful drifting with the river's current, they reached the fort of Lillo, where, more majorum, as night was falling, they prudently dropped anchor, having a due sense of the danger that might accrue "from running down a continent in the dark." There was, besides, a feeling of high-souled pride in anchoring within sight, under the guns, as it were, of the Dutch fort-the insolent Dutch, whom they, with some aid from France-as the Irishman said of his marriage, for love, and a trifle of money-had driven from their country; and, although the fog rendered every thing invisible, and the guns were spiked, still the act of courage was not disparaged; and they fell to, and sang the Brabançon, and drank Flemish beer till bed-time.

Happy and patriotic souls, little did you know, that amid your dreams of national greatness, some half-dozen imps of Dutch middies were painting out the magnificent tricolour streaks that adorned your good craft, and

making the whole one mass of dirty black.

Such was the case, however; and when day broke, those brilliant emblems of Belgian independence had vanished, and in their place a murky line of pitch now stood.

Homeward they bent their course, sadder and wiser men; and, to their credit be it spoken, having told their sorrows to their sage minister, they have lived a life of happy retirement, and never strayed beyond the peaceful limits of the Antwerp basin.

Far be from me the unworthy object of drawing before the public gaze the blissful and unpretending service, that shuns the noontide glitter of the world's applause, and better loves the quiet solitude of their own unobtrusive waters; and had they thus remained, nothing would have tempted me to draw them from their obscurity, But, alas! national ambition has visited even the seclusion of this service. Not content with coasting voyages, some twelve miles down their muddy river not satisfied with lording it over fishing smacks and herring wher ries, this great people have resolved on becoming a maritime power in blue water, and running a race of rivalry with England, France, and Russia; and to it they have set in right earnest.

They began by purchasing a steamvessel, which happens to turn out on such a scale of size, as to be inad missible into any harbour they possess. By dint of labour, time, cost, and great outlay they succeeded, after four months, in getting her into dock. But alas! if it took that time to admit her, it takes six months to let her out again; and, when out, what are they to do with her?

When Admiral Dalrymple turned farmer, he mentions, in one of his letters, the sufferings his unhappy ignorance of all agricultural pursuits involved him in, and feelingly tells us : "I have given ten pounds for a dunghill, and would now willingly give any man twenty, to tell me what to do with it."

This was exactly the case with the Belgians. They had bought a steamship, they put coals in her, and a crew; and then, for the life and soul of them, they did not know what to do with them.

They desired an export trade-a debouchee for their Namur cutlery and Verviers' frize. But where could they go? They had no colonies. Holland had, to be sure: but then, they had quarrelled with Holland, and there was no use repining. "What

can't be cured," &c. Besides, if they had lost a colony, they had gained a cardinal; and if they had no merchantmen, they had at least high-mass; and if they were excluded from Batavia, why they had free access to the "Abbé Boon."

There were, however, some impracticable people engaged in traffic, who would not listen to these great advantages, and who were obstinate enough to suppose, that the country was as prosperous when it had a market for its productions, as it was, when it had none. And although the priests, who have multiplied some hundred-fold since the revolution, were willing "to consume" to any extent, yet, unhappily, they were not as profitable customers as their ci-devant friends beyond sea.

Nothing then remained but to have a colony, and after much consideration, long thought, and anxious deliberation, it was announced to the chamber that the Belgians had a colony, and that the colony was called "Guatemala."

When Sancho Panza appealed to Don Quixotte, to realize his promised dream of greatness, you may remember, he always asked for an island: "make me governor of an island!" There was something defined, accurate, and tangible, as it were, in the sea-girt possession, that suggested to the honest squire's mind the idea of perfect, independent rule. And in the saine way, the Belgians desired to have an island.

Some few, less imaginative, suspected, however, that an island must always have its limit to importation quicker attained than a continent, and they preferred some vast, unexplored tract, like India, or Central America, where the consumption of corduroy and cast-iron might have an unexhausted traffic for centuries.

Now, it is a difficult condition to find out that spot on a map, which should realize both expectations. Happily, however, M. Van de Weyer

had to deal with a kind and confiding people, whose knowledge of geography is about equal to a blind man's appreciation of scarlet or sky-blue.

Not

only, therefore, did he represent to one party, the newly-acquired possession as an island, and to the other as a vast continent, but he actually shifted its locale about the globe, from the tropics to the north-pole, with such admirable dexterity, that not only is all cavil silenced about its commercial advantages, but its very climate has an advocate in every taste, and an admirer in every household. Steamengines, therefore, are fabricated; cannon are cast; railroads are in preparation; broadcloth is weaving; flax is growing; lace is in progress, all through the kingdom, for the new colony of Guatemala, whose only inhabitants are little grateful for the profound solicitude they are exciting, inasmuch as, being but rats and sea-gulls, their modes of living and thinking give them a happy indifference about steam-travelling, and the use of fine linen.

No matter;-the country is pros. pering shares are rising-speculations are rife-loans are effected every day in the week, and M. Van de Weyer sleeps in the peaceful composure of a man who knows in his heart, that even if they get their unwieldy craft to sea, there is not a man in the kingdom who could, by any ingenuity, discover the whereabout of the farfamed Guatemala.

A "SWEET LORD CHESTERFIELD once remarked that a thoroughly vulgar man could not speak the most common-place word, nor perform the most ordinary act, without imparting to the one and the other a portion of his own inborn vulgarity. And exactly so is it with the Yankees ; not a question can arise, no matter how great its importance, nor how trivial its bearings, upon which the moment they express an opinion, they do not completely invest with their own native coarseness, insolence, and vulgarity. The boundary question was made a matter of violent invective and ruffian abuse; the right of search was treated with the same powers of ribaldry towards England;

NUT FOR THE YANKEES.