gloomy things; and snuffled from afar off
"spoliation" and socialism and communism, and,
above all, that morcellement, or French partition
of lands into small parcels, the very quintessence
of Jacobinism. Another held out that the
scheme would give but a market to speculators
and hucksters, and would break down. Another
(Sir J. Walshe) said scornfully they might sell
and sell, but who would buy? About as
absurd, he added, as to put a house actually on
fire up to auction.

Still the operators went forward with their
work bravely; abundance of evil omen was
held out to encourage them. They would never
cauterise as they went along; they would never
take up the arteries. The patient would sink
under it. But with two millions of persons
receiving relief, and a poor-rate that equalled
about half the received rental of the country,
and a population decreasing at the rate of half a
million a year, it was no season for tisanes and
water-gruel. The knife was the only remedy.

Behold, it has been done. Draw the curtains.
Perfect quiet for the patient; opiates and what
not. And here is Mr. Solicitor coming out from
the bedroom wiping his fingers on a towel.

In a week we shall call and see how the patient
is getting on.

LABORIOUS TRIFLING.

THE tulipomania which arose in Holland and
the Netherlands in the seventeenth century, had
such an effect on the minds of the people, that
a craving to become tulip growers seized all
classes. The worthy and prosperous burghers
left their lucrative business to give and receive
enormous sums for tulip roots, and (as they
thought) to make their fortunes, which very few
of them did. Enormous and almost fabulous
prices were given for tulips. One man bought
a tulip for 4600 florins, and a new carriage, two
grey horses, and a complete harness. Talk not of
early peas at a guinea a dish, or grapes at some
astounding price, when you are told that in
exchange for one tulip, called the Viceroy, were
given the following articles: Two lasts of wheat,
four lasts of rye, four fat oxen, three fat swine,
twelve fat sheep, three hogsheads of wine, four
tons of beer, two tons of butter, one thousand
tons of cheese, a complete bed, a suit of clothes,
and a silver goblet, the whole valued at 2500
florins. Another person offered twelve acres of
land for one tulip root, but his offer was
contemptuously refused.

In some places tulips were bought, not for the
sake of their beauty, but only to be used for
gambling purposes. For instance, a nobleman
bought a tulip of a dealer for 1000 florins, the
tulip to be delivered in six months; during
those six months the value of that species of
tulip must either have risen, decreased, or
remained as it was; at the expiration of the six
months, instead of demanding his tulip, he either
paid or received the difference of price. The
tulips were dignified with the most pompous
names. One species was called Semper Augustus,
and others were called by the names of
princes and admirals. They were usually sold
according to the weight of the roots. Four hundred
perits (a small weight less than a grain) of a tulip
called Admiral Leifken, cost 4400 florins; four
hundred and forty-one perits of Admiral von der
Eyk, 1620 florins; one hundred and six perits
of Schilder, at 1615 florins; two hundred perits
of Semper Augustus cost 5500 florins; four
hundred and ten perits of the Viceroy cost 3000
florins. One florist sold his collection of tulips
by public auction; it was sold for 9000 florins.
A merchant made a present of a herring to a
sailor, who mistaking some roots lying near him
for onions, ate them with the herring; the roots
were tulip roots belonging to the merchant, who
found that the sailor's breakfast had cost him an
enormous sum of money. The mania extended
to England and France, but only among that
small part of the people who had intercourse
with Holland; for at this time the Dutch
customs were very much followed in England.
It was about the time when Dutch gardening
was the rage, when holly bushes were clipped
and cut into the form of dragons, peacocks,
giants, obelisks, and other hideous forms. In
France it seems to have had some victims,
for at Lille, a large brewery was given in
exchange for one tulip root. This brewery is
still called the tulip brewery. In Holland the
mania rose to such a pitch that at last the
government had to take the matter in hand, and
forbade the sale of tulips except at reasonable
prices: this measure was not taken till several
families had been ruined by the absurd mania.

A favourite custom among the elegant bucks
and " wits" as they were called of olden times,
was to carry in their vest combs of ivory
and tortoiseshell, and at theatres or public
places to produce them, and commence combing
their wigs. The elder Laroon painted a portrait
of John Duke of Marlborough at his levee; in
which the Duke is represented dressed in a scarlet
suit, with large white satin cuffs, and a long
white wig, which he is combing, while his valet,
who is stationed behind the chair, adjusts the
curls after the comb has passed through them.

Dryden in his prologue to Almanzor and
Almahide touches on this custom:

   But as when vizard mask appears in pit,
   Straight every man who thinks himself a wit,
   Perks up; and managing his comb with grace,
   With his white wig sets off his nut-brown face.

Patches, or beauty spots, which were worn by
ladies, were used, as we find by the Spectator, to
denote to which political party the enthusiastic
ladies might belong. The ladies who inclined to
the Whigs patched on the right cheek, and the
Tory ladies patched on the left cheek. The
Spectator has an amusing account of a lady
called Rosalinda, who, being a noted Whig,
unfortunately had a mole on the Tory part of her
forehead, which made her look as if she had
abandoned the Whigs and gone over to the
Tories. It must have occasioned many unpleasant
mistakes.
The pantin, a little figure with strings attached