"We are bound to admit that Mr. Barnum is one of the most entertaining lecturers that ever addressed an audience on a theme universally intelligible. The appearance of Mr. Barnum, it should be added, has nothing of the 'charlatan' about it, but is that of the thoroughly respectable man of business; and he has at command a fund of dry humor that convulses everybody with laughter, while he himself remains perfectly serious. A sonorous voice and an admirably clear delivery complete his qualifications as a lecturer, in which capacity he is no 'humbug,' either in a higher or lower sense of the word." During the year 1859 he delivered this lecture nearly one hundred times in London and in different parts of England, always with great success. Remembering his experiences with Tom Thumb at Oxford and Cambridge, and knowing the fondness of the college men for joking, Barnum made up his mind to endure any amount of friendly chaff when he visited their cities. He commenced at Cambridge, where he was greeted with a crowded house, composed largely of under-graduates. Soon after he began to speak, one of the young men called out: "Where is Joice Heth?" to which Barnum replied: "Young gentleman, please to restrain yourself till the close of the lecture, when I shall take great pleasure in affording you all the information I possess concerning your deceased relative." This turned the laugh against the youthful inquirer, and kept the students quiet for a few moments. Questions of a similar character were occasionally propounded and as promptly answered, and on the whole the lecture was interrupted less than Barnum had anticipated, while the receipts were over one hundred pounds sterling. At Oxford the hall was filled to suffocation half an hour before the time announced for the lecture to begin, and the sale of tickets was stopped. Barnum therefore stepped upon the platform, and said: "Ladies and gentlemen: as every seat is now occupied and the ticket-office is closed, I propose to begin my lecture now and not keep you waiting till the advertised hour." "Good for you, old Barnum,"--"Time is money,"--"Nothing like economy," yelled the audience. Holding up his hand for silence, Barnum proceeded: "Young gentlemen, I have a word or two to say, in order that we may have a thorough understanding between ourselves at the outset. I see symptoms of a pretty jolly time here this evening, and you have paid me liberally for the single hour of my time, which is at your service. I am an old traveller and an old showman, and I like to please my patrons. Now, it is quite immaterial to me; you may furnish the entertainment for the hour, or I will endeavor to do so, or we will take portions of the time by turns --you supplying a part of the amusement and I a part--as we say sometimes in America, 'you pays your money, and you takes your choice.' " This frankness pleased the students, who agreed to this unique proposition unhesitatingly.