famous old prophetess; Jane Shore, the beautiful wife of Edward VI., being somehow a misprint; Othello, Moor of Venice," who brutally smothered his wife with a pillow." These, and several other notables, were mixed up with a cat with three heads, a calf with two, a sheep with four tails, a real and beautiful mermaid, a learned pig, named Toby, the swinish philosopher; together with a view through a peep-hole, of the visit of Queen Sheba to King Solomon on the throne; Daniel in the den of lions; the tower of Babel, and the other six wonders of the world.

The great wonder of the world, "in the wax-work line," is now, without question, Madame Tussaud's Exhibition, which seems to have thrown completely into the shade, or, perhaps, to speak more scientifically, "melted the wax" of all other waxen exhibitions in the kingdom. And I look upon this in some degree as an advance in the right direction, for now persons of an intellectual turn of mind may visit "wax-work" without disgust, and persons who love grandeur and show, and the appearance of great folks, will be gratified to the fullest of their anticipation, while those who wish to have their feelings harrowed up" may luxuriate in the "Chamber of Horrors," and, if they like, sup full of them.

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Peter Parley having hobbled up Baker Street, soon found himself in the "Great Wax Exhibition," and in the midst of the most distinguished characters, almost as distinguished as himself, and all a vast deal more harmless. Here were kings and queens and emperors and grand field marshals. Here were stupid kings and mad kings, bad kings and good kings, archbishops and bishops, dukes, prime ministers, play-actors, fiddlers, dancers, cardinals, cut-throats.

It made one laugh to see all these personages so quiet and pleasing

to look upon. There was the Emperor Napoleon as quiet as a lamb; Mehemet Ali as meek as a pigeon; Lord Brougham positively silent; Nelson at a "stand still ;" and Lord John Russell in a “fix.” In short, there were more than a hundred celebrated characters of all sorts and sizes, of all ranks and conditions, of all ages aud complexions-but the greatest man of the whole was absent, namely, the "Duke." It was like the play of Hamlet, with the character of Hamlet omitted by "particular desire." To leave out the Duke of Wellington, the greatest man of our age, in an assemblage of notables, is to Peter Parley an affront which he wont look over in a hurry, depend upon it.

But, however, to say something about the sight. There is indeed a deal worthy of inspection in Madame Tussaud's Exhibition. The pomp and glory of the great stand forth in glowing habiliments :Wolsey in the dress of a cardinal; Mehemet Ali in a Turkish costume; Richard III. in a magnificent suit of armour; Henry IV. of France, Joan of Arc, Queen Elizabeth, King Henry VIII., Francis I., Charles I., in the costumes of the several periods; and St. Louis in the costume of the Saint Esprit, bring before us the glory of bygone days, and excite historical recollections of great and never-failing interest. One group, called "The Eighth," represent the members of the House of Brunswick from the time of George I. to the present period; and this group presents the most complete view of the four national orders-Garter, Bath, Thistle, and St. Patrick. There is the "first gentleman in Europe," George IV., and the most unfortunate and ill-used of queens, Caroline; the noble Duke of York; the popular Duke of Sussex; the stern Duke of Kent, with "Farmer George" and his good wife, Queen Charlotte. In the same group we

have the "cunning" King of the French, and Sir Charles Napier, cousin to Rear Admiral Sir Charles Napier, K.C.B., who will be member for the Borough of Ipswich in the next Parliament, and it is quite refreshing to look upon the good-tempered face of William IV., the sailor king.

In another group we find the Royal Family at home; and here we have the "gem of all gems," the Koh-i-noor of women, the flower of all flowers, the lovely "rose of England," our beloved Queen, not however looking half so lovely as she really is; Prince Albert-all bright as his name signifies, like his own Crystal Palace—his eyes beaming with goodness and intelligence; and, lastly, the "Royal Children," for whom Peter Parley has an especial affection, as he understands from pretty good authority, that they are loving and obedient, docile and manageable, as children ought to be; and that they do not take upon themselves because of their "high birth" any of those ridiculous airs and graces which some children are very prone to.

Besides these "royal gems" we have other "pieces of pomp" arrayed in what is called the "Golden Chamber," containing the relics of that "king of the cut-throats," Napoleon. There stands the carriage of the "Emperor," taken at Waterloo; the celebrated campbed used by the "Emperor" at St. Helena; the flag of Elba; the cradle of the son of Napoleon, and what is termed the most extraordinary and curious relic in existence, the counterpane used on the bed on which the Emperor died, "marked with his blood!" but not so deeply as the earth was marked by the blood of all the nations of the earth during the " war period" through his mad ambition. There are numerous other relics of a certain kind of interest to some

people, such as the spoon and tooth-brush and razor used by the "Emperor," and among the miscellaneous relics, the coat and waistcoat of the Emperor's conqueror, "Wellington."

Then comes the Chamber of Horrors-over which Peter Parley draws a veil; but he cannot help advising his young friends to visit this "wax-work," as it really includes such an extraordinary number of extraordinary things, that it may be looked upon as one of the "Great Teachers" of the Metropolis, preaching "sermons" to the multitude, full of interesting truth, and adding not a little to the delight of thousands.