1828.) Affairs in General. 631 
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poured forth a great dale too many flowers, and Dr. Dionysius Lardner 
caught, we know not precisely how many rays of illumination, from the 
bright luminary, then in his eye (Mr. B.)—dazzling him with excess of 
light—which any one might swear could come only from the ‘ gem.’ 
The Zoological Society have had their nerves horribly shaken—not 
by any outbreak of the tigers, but the presumption of a <‘ fellow,’ who 
keeps a tea-garden in the New-road, or somewhere within a reachable 
distance of the Menagerie-grounds. This < fellow,’ it seems, being of 
a speculative turn, as well as the managers, paid his guinea to the 
society, and by virtue of the said payment, affixing to his name of John 
Johnson, or something of the sort, F.Z.S., or some other equally good- 
looking initials, announced, on his cards, by way of proving some supe- 
rior accommodation at his house of entertainment, that tickets for the 
Zoological might be had on application ; and, accordingly, he issued his 
‘ orders’ to all comers and bibbers, and contributed largely to the daily 
forty-pound receipts of the society. But, instead of being grateful for 
this interchange of benefit, the aristocracy of the institution, in alarm, 
summoned a special meeting—Hannibal ad portas—and at a very full 
assembly, agreed nem con. to return to Mr. John Johnson, or whatever 
his name may be, his subscription-money, and inform him, they had for 
ever erased his ignoble name from the honourable and right honourable 
lists. But, seriously, though the fact is correctly true—can any thing 
be so absurd as the scheme of the Zoological, to require an introduc- 
tion, and then demand a shilling? It is, however, completely English, 
of the modern school, combining foppery and meanness—money-making, 
never out of thought, whether east or west of Temple-bar. If any 
desirable object could be gained by excluding the vulgar, then let the 
managers be content with the introduction—let them be satisfied with 
the honour of conferring a favour, and take a leaf out of our neighbours’ 
book—the Menagerie of Paris is open to all the world, without any 
paying atall. Committees are now appointed—-such has been the abun- 
dance of their receipts—to consider upon the means of disposing of the 
money, and, of course, they will very soon have monthly or weekly 
dinners, and get rid of some of the superfluity that way. This, of 
course, they have a right to do—only, say we, if they take money, let 
them throw the gates open to all, like any other shilling show. Thanks 
to Mr. John Johnson—‘ this will end it.’ 
Justice again—we do not learn that the little German literato has yet 
been discharged. The reader would observe in the police reports, an 
account of a man who walked into a bookseller’s shop of the name of 
Wilks, and asked for employment—any thing of any kind—he was in 
distress. The bookseller, it so happened, was also a book-maker, and 
had just written a hundred folios (sheets) to establish a claim to the late 
Baron Maseres’ enormous property, of which he contended Mr. Fellowes 
had got unjust possession. JDistrusting his own talents, and delighted 
at the opportunity of catching a poor devil of an author, evidently in 
want of a shilling, he put the said MS. into his hand, desiring him to 
look it over—and, expressly or by implication, nobody can doubt, 
engaging to make some compensation. Precise particulars are of course 
not to be got at from police reports, but the result was, the little man 
refused to give up the important MS., unless he was on the spot indem- 
nified for his labour. Mr. W. does not pretend he had given him any 
thing, and it may be concluded he had refused to pay what the other 
