These valuable inventions have been in use for some years by Mr. Solomons’ respected friend, the editor of the Times; but no publicity has been given to them, until Mr. S. had completely tested their efficacy.  He has now much pleasure in subjoining, for the information of the public, the following letter, of the authenticity of which Mr. S. presumes no one can entertain a doubt.

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR OF THE “TIMES.”

It is with much pleasure that I am enabled, my dear Solomons, to give my humble testimony in favour of your new political glasses and ear-trumpet.  By their invaluable aid I have been enabled, for some years, to see and hear just what suited my purpose.  I have recommended them to my protege, Sir Robert Peel, who has already tried the glasses, and, I am happy to state, does not see quite so many objections to a fixed duty as he did before using these wonderful illuminators.  The gallant Sibthorp (at my recommendation) carried one of your ear-trumpets to the House on Friday last, and states that he heard his honoured leader declare, “that the Colonel was the only man who ought to be Premier—­after himself.”

If these testimonies are of any value to you, publish them by all means, and believe me.

Yours faithfully,
JOHN WALTER.
Printing House Square.

Mr. S. begs to state, that though magnifying and diminishing glasses are no novelty, yet his invention is the only one to suit the interest of parties without principle.

* * * * *

CON.  BY THEODORE HOOK.

“What sentimental character does the re-elected Speaker remind you of?”—­Ans. by Croker:  “P_(shaw!) Lefevre_, to be sure.”

* * * * *

A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT.

We regret to state that the second ball at the Boulogne fete was simply remarkable from “its having gone off without any disturbance.”  Where were the national guards?

* * * * *

UNSATISFACTORY CONDITION OF FOREIGN BEEF—­(CAUTION TO GOURMANDS).

A corresponedent of the Times forwards the alarming intelligence that at the Boulogne Races the stakes never fill!  Sibthorp, the gifted Sib, ever happy at expedients, ingeniously recommends a trial of the chops.

* * * * *

A TRIFLE FROM LITTLE TOMMY.

TO AN ELDERLY BEAUTY.

  “Ah!  Julia, time all tilings destroys,
    The heart, the blood, the pen;
  But come, I’ll re-enact young joy
    And be myself again.

  “Yet stay, sweet Julia, how is this
    Thine are not lips at all;
  Your face is plastered, and you kiss,
    Like Thisbe—­through a wall.”