174 The Newspaper Office. FEB. 



der what o'clock it is ? Really, this writing for newspapers is dull 

 work ; I hate writing, it looks so like an author. 



Enter Mr. SCRIP, another Proprietor. 



SCRIP. Any news to-day ? 



WESTERN. None of any moment. I see by the Times of this morn- 

 ing that the bills of mortality have increased considerably within the last 

 year. 



SCRIP. Indeed ! Then our friend Dr. Versailles is getting into prac- 

 tice. But have we any thing from your pen to-day ? 



WESTERN. A mere trifle. A leading article on parliamentary re- 

 form. 



SCRIP. Sorry to hear it, Mr. Western, I hate the very mention of 

 reform ; it sounds so like revolution. 



WESTERN. Nonsense, Scrip ! the March of Intellect will effectually 

 prevent any commotion of that sort. 



SCRIP. Aye, there it is. The March of Intellect is now a-days the 

 cant term for every outrageous innovation. It is the golden calf of 

 state the curse of religion the ruin of morality. It bids the peasant 

 affect the politician the commoner the lord the pickpocket the patriot. 

 It robes philosophy in petticoats apostacy in lawn-sleeves roguery in 

 the Serjeant's coif. It sends A. to parliament B. to Newgate C. to the 

 gallows. It confounds the distinctions between vice and virtue genius 

 and eccentricity generous enthusiasm and stark staring madness. It 

 anticipates the millenium of knaves, quacks, fools, and libertines ; de- 

 praves all human, and supersedes all divine institutions. We live in 

 strange times, Mr. Western. The very framework of society is broken 

 up. Nothing goes on as it used to do, for even the physical follows the 

 fashion set by the moral world. We have our spring in summer our 

 summer in autumn our autumn in the depth of winter. A few years, 

 and confusion twice confounded shall dance the hays through Europe. 

 The elements of convulsion are gathering the fiends of anarchy are 

 abroad the very atmosphere smells of blood. At this present moment 

 England is panting to abolish France ; France casts a sheep's-eye at 

 England ; Russia hungers for a fat slice of Prussia ; Prussia affects an 

 equal appetite for Belgium ; Belgium cuts up Luxembourg for a lunch ; 

 and worse far worse than all, the funds have fallen three per cent, 

 and I have lost ten thousand pounds by the decline. 



WESTERN. Allow me to observe, Mr. Scrip, that this March of Intel- 

 lect which you so super-eloquently deprecate, has 



SCRIP. Shewn itself in an improved method of picking pockets 

 swallowing prussic-acid playing waltz-tunes on the chin curing ladies 

 of consumption by rubbing holes in their short ribs behind a screen 

 boring tunnels in the earth, and ears in the House of Commons build- 

 ing theatres one day which tumble down the next and manufacturing 

 steam-coaches, scaffolds, new churches, rail-roads, and joint-stock-com- 

 panies. 



WESTERN. Well, Sir, and it is by these very improvements, that the 

 country has attained to its present flourishing condition. 



SCRIP, Flourishing condition ! How can that be ? Government have 

 curtailed one third of my income. 



WESTERN. And my rents in North Wales have risen one-third. 



SCRIP. The funds have fallen three per cent. 



