plated tea-pots and milk jugs, work-boxes, japanned tea-trays, silk handkerchiefs, &c. This kind of entertainment was given within the last forty years; but Clarke was then an old man, and with his death the race of the mountebanks, as they were popularly called, became extinct. The last section of a mock Act of Parliament published about this time gives a good idea of the clown’s business five-and-thirty years ago, and affords the means of comparing the circus wit and humour of that period with the laughter-provocatives of the Merrymans of the present day. It runs as follows:— ‘_And be it further enacted_, that when the scenes in the circus commence, the Merriman, Grotesque, or Clown shall not, after the first equestrian feat, exclaim, “Now I’ll have a turn to myself,” previous to his toppling like a coach-wheel round the ring; nor shall he fall flat on his face, and then collecting some saw-dust in his hands drop it down from the level of his head, and say his nose bleeds; nor shall he attempt to make the rope-dancer’s balance-pole stand on its end by propping it up with the said saw-dust; nor shall he, after chalking the performer’s shoes, conclude by chalking his own nose, to prevent his foot from slipping when he treads on it; nor shall he take long pieces of striped cloth for Mr Stickney to jump over, while his horse goes under; previous to which he shall not pull the groom off the stool, who holds the other end of the same cloth, neither shall he find any difficulty in holding it at the proper level; nor, after having held it higher and lower, shall he ask, “Will that do?” and, on being answered in the affirmative, he shall not jump down, and put his hands in his pockets, saying, “I’m glad of it;” nor shall he pick up a small piece of straw, for fear he should fall over it, and afterwards balance the said straw on his chin as he runs about. Neither shall the Master of the Ring say to the Merriman, Grotesque, or Clown, when they are leaving the circus, “I never follow the fool, sir;” nor shall the fool reply, “Then I do,” and walk out after him; nor, moreover, shall the Clown say that “the horses are as clever as the barber who shaved bald magpies at twopence a dozen;” nor tell the groom in the red jacket and top boots, when he takes the said horses away, to “rub them well down with cabbage-puddings, for fear they should get the collywobbleums in their pandenoodles;” such speeches being manifestly very absurd and incomprehensible. ‘_Saving always_, that the divers ladies and gentlemen, young ladies and young gentlemen, maid-servants, apprentices, and little boys, who patronise the theatre, should see no reason why the above alterations should be made; under which circumstances, they had better remain as they are.’ CHAPTER IV.