INFRA DIG.
Sweet, in a sordid age, it is to find
One Abdiel to enticement bravely blind,
One class not thrall to Plutus. But, hurroo!
England rejoice aloud, for thou hast two.
Sweet are the uses of—Advertisement,
To huckster souls, whose god is Cent-per-cent.
The Mart, the Forum, and—alas!—the Fane.
Self-trumpeting, in type, cannot restrain;
The leaded column and the poster smart
Seduce the Histrio; e'en the thrall of Art
Bows to the modern Baal of Pot and Paste,
That deadly foe of Modesty and Taste.
The Poet poses publicly, the Scribe
Knows how to vaunt, to logroll, and to bribe.
But there be those share not the general taint;
The pestle-wielding Sage, the silk-gowned Saint.
Redeem our fallen race from the dark shade
That would confuse Professions with mere Trade.
No, briefs and bills of costs may loom too big,
Harpagon hide beneath a horsehair wig,
Sangrado thrive on flattery and shrewd knack.
And Dulcamara, safe in silence, quack;
But—chortle, oh ye good, rejoice, ye wise!—
Physic and Law will never—Advertise!
"THE PARIAH."—In the latest copy to hand of that wonderful penn'orth of gossip and information, Sala's Journal, Vol. I. No. 16, and in the very first line of the light and leading article, our "G.A.S." asks "Is Woman a Pariah?" Of course she is not, we reply, not even if she be the very masculinest of females. Some, if they are "Riahs" at all, are "Ma-riahs." "Riah," it may be remembered, is the abbreviated form of the name as in the once popular Coster's song of "What cheer Riah?" Whether spelt with or without an "h" is of no consequence, the Coster not being particular.