* "Mr. Palatine exhibits with pigeons, wigs, oranges, cards, handkerchiefs, and pocket-pieces; and swallows knives, forks, punch-ladles, and candle-snuffers."
** In 1775, Breslaw performed at Cockspur Street, Hay- market, and in after years at Hughes's Riding School and Bartholomew Fair. Being at Canterbury with his troop, he met with such bad success that they were almost starved. He repaired to the churchwardens, and promised to give the profits of a night's conjuration to the poor, if the parish would pay for hiring a room, &c. The charitable bait took, the benefit proved a bumper, and next morning the churchwardens waited upon the wizard to touch the receipts. "I have already disposed of dem," said Breslaw,--"de profits were for de poor.
I have kept my promise, and given de money to my own people, who are de poorest in dis parish "Sir!" exclaimed the churchwardens, "this is a trick!"--"I know it," replied Hocus Pocus,--"I live by my tricks!"
In after years there fell on Mr. Lane * ('tis a long lane that has never a turning!) a remnant of Fawkes's mantle. But was not our conjuror ("you must borrow me the mouth of Gargantua!") and his "_Enchanted Sciatoricon_," little too much in advance of the age? The march of intellect ** had not set in with a very strong current. The three R's (reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic!) comprehended the classical attainments of a "City Solon and a Tooley Street Socrates."
* "Grand Exhibition by Mr. Lane, first' performer to the King, opposite the Hospital Gate. His Enchanted Sciatoricon will discover to the company the exact time of the day by any watch, though the watch may be in the pocket of a person five miles off. The Operation Palingenesia: any spectator sending for a couple of eggs, may take the choice of them, and the egg, being broke, produces a living bird of the species desired, which in half a minute receives its full plumage, and flies away. The other egg will, at the request of the company, leap from one hat to another, to the number of twenty." Then follow "His Unparalleled Sympathetic Figures,"
"Magical Tea Caddie" and above one hundred other astonishing tricks for the same money.
** This is the age of progression. Intellect and steam are on the quick march and full gallop. Butchers' boys, puffing cigars, and lapping well-diluted caldrons of "Hunt's Roasted," illuminate with penny lore the hitherto unclassic shambles of Whitechapel and Leadenhall. The mechanic, far advanced in intelligence and gin, roars "animal parliaments, universal suffering, and vote by bullet." And the Sunday School Solomon, on being asked by meo magister, "Who was Jesse?" lisps "the Flower of Dumblain!"--"When was Rome built, my little intelligence?"--"In the night, sir."--"Eh! How?"--