2dly. Would Major Beniowsky’s plan compel a man to remember his tailor’s bill; and, if so, would it go so far as to remind him to call for the purpose of paying it?
3dly. Would the new system of memory enable Mr. Wakley to refrain from forgetting himself?
4thly. Would the Phrenotypics, or brain-printing, as it is called, succeed in stereotyping a pledge in the recollection of a member of parliament?
5thly. Is it possible for the new art to cause Sir Robert Peel to remember from one week to the other his political promises?
We fear these questions must be answered in the negative; but we have a plan of our own for exercising the memory, which will beat that of Beniow, or any other sky, who ventures to propose one. Our proposition is, “Read PUNCH,” and we will be bound that no one will ever forget it who has once enjoyed the luxury.
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SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.—NO. 9.
I wander’d through our native
And one was by my side who seem’d
Fraught with each beauty nature yields,
Whilst from her eye affection beam’d.
It was so like what fairy books,
In painting heaven, are wont to tell,
That fondly I believed those looks,
And found too late—’twas all a sell!
’Twas all a sell!
She vow’d I was her all—her
And proved, methought, her words by sighs;
She long’d to hear me call her “wife,”
And fed on hope which love supplies.
Ah! then I felt it had been sin
To doubt that she could e’er belie
Her vows!—I found ’twas only tin
She sought, and love was all my eye!
Was all my eye!
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The Shamrock ran upon a timber-raft on Monday morning, and was off Deal in ten minutes afterwards.
The storm of Thursday did considerable damage to the shipping in the Thames. A coal was picked up off Vauxhall, which gave rise to a report that a barge had gone down in the offing. On making inquiries at Lloyd’s, we asked what were the advices, when we were advised to mind our own business, an answer we have too frequently received from the underlings of that establishment. The Bachelor has been telegraphed on its way up from Chelsea. It is expected to bring the latest news relative to the gas-lights on the Kensington-road, which, it is well known, are expected to enjoy a disgraceful sinecure during the winter.
Captain Snooks, of the Daffydowndilly, committed suicide by jumping down the chimney of the steamer under his command. The rash act occasioned a momentary flare up, but did not impede the action of the machinery.
A rudder has been seen floating off Southwark. It has a piece of rope attached to it. Lloyd’s people have not been down to look at it. This shameful neglect has occasioned much conversation in fresh-water circles, and shows an apathy which it is frightful to contemplate.