Many of us owe to a visit to Astley's our earliest initiation into the mysteries of histories; and we are of opinion that a set of questions should be framed in accordance with these grand dog-mata—or horse-mata, as a maliciously-disposed person might call them—which we have gleaned from the boards of that great equestrian establishment. The arena of the circus is not a mere desert of sand or sawdust to him who looks at it with an intelligent eye, for many a wise saw may be picked up from the aforesaid sawdust, if the eye itself does not disdain the humility of the pupil. We subjoin a few specimens of the sort of questions and answers that would be found to meet the case, if we looked at history through some of Astley's grand spectacles.
Q. How was the battle of Waterloo decided?
A. By six Scotch Greys popping out from under two trusses of straw beautifully divided into six, and representing about half a pint of "standing corn," from which the gallant fellows emerged in time to "discomfit" eight French cuirassiers, who retired before the battery of the flats of the enemy's swords upon their highly polished breast-plates.
Q. How did Napoleon succeed in crossing the Alps?
A. He was carried across in an open boat on the backs of four supernumeraries.
Q. In what manner did the Emperor travel to Russia?
A. In a pasteboard hackney-coach, gorgeously emblazoned with Dutch metal, and which had been discovered among the rich relics of barbarism used for the old melodrama of Xaia of China.
Q. How did the Duke of Wellington behave at Waterloo?
A. He never spoke a single word, but pranced about, looking unutterable things, on a piebald charger.
Q. To what are our successes in India attributable?