together," are happily formed of corresponding dimensions,
manufactured of more "squeezeable materials." There is, be sure of it, a
providence watching over parish unions as well as palaces. How, for
instance, would boards of guardians pack their new-born charges, if every
babe of a union had the brawn and bone of a Prince of Wales?

However, we could wish that the little Prince was thrice his size--an
aspiration in which our readers will heartily join, when they learn the
goodly tidings we are about to tell them.

We believe it is not generally known that Sir PETER LAURIE is as profound
an orientalist as perhaps any Rabbi dwelling in Whitechapel. Sir PETER,
whilst recently searching the Mansion House library,--which has been
greatly enriched by eastern manuscripts, the presents of the late Sir
WILLIAM CURTIS, Sir CLAUDIUS HUNTER, and the venerable Turk who is Wont to
sell rhubarb in Cheapside, and supplied dinner-pills to the Court of
Aldermen,--Sir PETER, be it understood, lighted upon a rare work on the
Mogul Country, in which it is stated that on every birth-day of the Great
Mogul, his Magnificence is duly weighed in scales against so much gold and
silver--his precise weight in the precious metals being expended on
provisions for the poor.

Was there ever a happier device to make a nation interested in the
greatness of their sovereign? The fatter the king, the fuller his people!
With this custom naturalised among us, what a blessing would have been the
corpulency of GEORGE THE FOURTH! How the royal haunches, the royal
abdomen, would have had the loyal aspirations of the poor and hungry! The
national anthem would have had an additional verse in thanksgiving for
royal flesh; and in our orisons said in churches, we should not only have
prayed for the increasing years of our "most religious King," but for his
increasing fat!

It is however useless to regret forgotten advantages; let us, on the
contrary, with new alacrity, avail ourselves of a present good.

Our illumination on the christening of the Prince of Wales--we at once,
and in the most liberal manner, give the child his title--has been
generally scouted, save and except by a few public-spirited oil and
tallow-merchants. It has been thought better to give away legs of mutton
on the occasion, than to waste any of the sheep in candles. This
proposition--it is known--has our heartiest concurrence. Here, however,
comes in the wisdom of our dear Sir Peter. He, tak