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A THING UNFIT TO A(P)PEAR.

  New honours heaped on roue Segrave’s name! 
  A cuckold’s horn is then the trump of fame.

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FINE ARTS.

EXTERNAL EXHIBITIONS.

Under this head it is our intention, from time to time, to revert to numberless free exhibitions, which, in this advancement-of-education age, have been magnanimously founded with a desire to inculcate a knowledge of, and disseminate, by these liberal means, an increased taste for the arts in this vast metropolis.  We commence not with any feelings of favouritism, nor in any order of ability, our pleasures being too numerously divided to be able to settle as to which ought to be No. 1, but because it is necessary to commence—­consequently we would wish to settle down in company with the amiable reader in front of a tobacconist’s shop in the Regent Circus, Piccadilly; and as the principal attractions glare upon the astonishment of the spectators from the south window, it is there in imagination that we are irresistibly fixed.  Before we dilate upon the delicious peculiarities of the exhibition, we deem it absolutely a matter of justice to the noble-hearted patriot who, imitative of the Greeks and Athenians of old, who gave the porticoes of their public buildings, and other convenient spots, for the display of their artists’ productions, has most generously appropriated the chief space of his shop front to the use and advantage of the painter, and has thus set a bright example to the high-minded havannah merchants and contractors for cubas and c’naster, which we trust will not be suffered to pass unobserved by them.

The principal feature, or, rather mass of features, which enchain the beholder, is a whole-length portrait of a gentleman (par excellence) seated in a luxuriating, Whitechapel style of ease, the envy, we venture to affirm, of every omnibus cad and coachman, whose loiterings near this spot afford them occasional peeps at him.  He is most decidedly the greatest cigar in the shop—­not only the mildest, if his countenance deceive us not, but evidently the most full-flavoured.  The artist has, moreover, by some extraordinary adaptation or strange coincidence, made him typical of the locality—­we allude to the Bull-and-Mouth—­seated at a table evidently made and garnished for the article.  The said gentleman herein depicted is in the act of drinking his own health, or that of “all absent friends,” probably coupling with it some little compliment to a favourite dog, one of the true Regent-street-and-pink-ribbon breed, who appears to be paying suitable attention.  A huge pine-apple on the table, and a champagne cork or two upon the ground, contribute a gallant air of reckless expenditure to this spirited work.  In reference to the artistic qualities, it gives us immoderate