MISCELLANEOUS.

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VI, Issue 442, 27 October 1849, Page 4

MISCELLANEOUS.

The following table shows the decrease of the cholera, from the Bth to the 14th inclusive, in the Paris hospitals :—: — Cases. Deaths. Cases. Deaths. Bth. . 410 178 12th. . 219. ... 131 9th. . 377 148 13th. . 175. ... 115 10th. . 335 163 14th. . 133. ... 112 11th.. 388 155 The Earl of Dalhousie has been promoted to the rank of Marquis. Lord Gough has, as we stated last week, heen created a Viscount. — Liverpool Albion, June 11. Mr. Samuel Dickson has been elected, without opposition, as M.P. for Limerick cbunty, in the room of Mr. Smith O'Brien. He is said to be ** very rich," and " distinguished from many of his colleagues by personal independence ;" he*is of "no determinate politics ;" and his return is deemed a proof of the general, political apathy. — Ibid. A few days since 16,000 Spanish dollars were found in a recess in a brig, the Carleton, which was undergoing repairs at Hartlepool.

The brig, which was recently purchased by the present owner for £750, was originally engaged in the slave trade off the coast of Guinea, and the treasure so curiously discovered has probably been the ill-gotten gains of some of the r/retches engaged in that abominable traffic.

Mr. Hudson in Parliament. —lt was George's custom of an afternoon to bustle up to the second row behind the Opposition, and keep calling out, quite loud, 'Granby,' * Brackley,' * Bentick,' (Lord Henry of Late), •Burghley,' * Chandos,' ' Hamilton' (Lord Claude), * Hotham,' ' Lennox,' ' Mandeville,' ' Seaham,' ' Worcester,' or any body else with a handle to his name, who happened to be within hailing distance ; and these Corinthian oaks, obsequious to the moneyed mushroom, were wont to nod their patrician tops, and respond with an approving and deferential chuckle, much to the envy and admiration of all the surrounding world of senatorial snobbery, and to the perplexity of Mr. Speaker, who called ' order' with much less tban bis customary effect whenever the Iron Rex was railing. Every dog has his day. Six months ago, George's little bow wow was as good as ' the loftiest war-note that lion could roar ;' and now every * turnspit, mongrel, whelp of low degree,' seems privileged to bark derisive at the tin-kettle obligato the unfortunate animal performs whenever he carries his tail behind him, curtailed as is his caudal elongation to most disproportioned proportions. On Monday night, he sneaked in, a truly sad dog, conscious that every puppy, spaniel, and lurcher of his former kennel, had become a setter and pointer, with himself for their game, and foul game the poor hounds made of him. As he entered the lobby, the policemen seemed as if they had suddenly sniffed the ghost of Lundyfoot, for their noses respectively became suddenly curled up at angle of 45, like men on the precipice of a sneeze, after a thumping pinch of high toast. On coming into the house, all his once familiars, who were crowded about the gang-way, appeared to be either profoundly interested in Dr. Reids plan of lighting the apartment from above, or to be absorbed in contemplation of the mechanism of their watches, or else afflicted with an awful cold in the head, requiring the immediate application of pocket handkerchiefs. Some, on the contrary, began to gaze intently on their boot tops; while others looked through the Banquo of the share market, as if they were playing Macbeth, aud could'nt see a spectre —weighing 17£ stones; for all that, spiritual as he was, George, however, twigged them fast enough, and on that twig he hopped into the extreme back bench, in a line with the Sergeant-at-Arms, Lord Charles Russell, who quietly turned himself round in his porter's chair and fixed his eyes on the mace on the table, plunging, no doubt, into the regular historical reverie as to Hampden on the field, Sydney on the scaffold, and the rest of the family traditional business, especially the pensions. No shaking of hands all round, like Jack-in-the-Green in a May morning — no hoarse laugh —nothing to recall the gross, rude, vulgar autocrat of the share market now. There he sat —alone, avoided ; his hat pulled over his face; his face resting on his hands; his hands on his stick; his stick on the edge of the bench before him —as precarious a foundation as the bloat bubble that had bolstered him up all this while back, and which the stroke of a straw would any time have prostrated. Talk of Bajazet in his cage, Marius amidst the ruins of Carthage, Napoleon on the rock of St. Helena, and Louis Philippe in a pea jacket, and calling himself Bill Smith! Why how poorly do all these point a moral, and how slenderly do they adorn a tale, compared to this Great Snob becoming the Great Snubbed !