There were very many pictorial satires on this unfortunate wrapper, but none bore so near a resemblance to it as the accompanying illustration by John Doyle (H.B. Sketches, 26 May, 1840, No. 639). Lord Palmerston, as Britannia, is dispatching Mercuries with fire and sword, to the east, typical of the wars in Egypt and China. On the other hand, he sends a flight of Cupids to Father Mathew, the apostle of Temperance, who was then doing such good work in Ireland, whilst a man is knocking the bung out of a whisky barrel. Beneath this group is O’Connell, who is roaring out “Hurrah for Repeal!” to the horror of the Duke of Wellington, who is behind him. On the left is Lord Monteagle, late Chancellor of the Exchequer, ill in bed; whilst his successor, Mr. Baring, reads to him the result of his policy: “Post Office deliveries in the quarter, £272,000! Total deficiency in the year, to be made up by new taxation, £2,000,000!” On 7 May, the Gresham Committee met to decide on the two plans for the New Royal Exchange, one prepared by Mr. Cockerell, R.A., and the other by Mr. Tite, President of the Architectural Society, which was in favour of the latter by 13 votes to 7. The works were immediately proceeded with. Talking of one fire seems to lead on to another, for on 20 May, York Minster was for the second time visited with a conflagration—this time, however, it was caused accidentally, and not the work of an incendiary. The following extract from a letter dated York, 21 May, gives a graphic account of the fire, and is of especial interest, as being from the pen of a spectator. “You may hear the rumour of the alarming and truly awful calamity that has occurred in this city, before you receive this. I have witnessed it, and shall hold the recollection as long as my memory exists. About 20 minutes to 9 last evening, I was told the Minster was on fire. I ran out, immediately, towards it, and stood by it, just as the flames had issued from the top part of the south-west tower, at a height that an engine could not have played upon. The fire continued to rage until it had entire possession of the upper part; flames issuing from every window, and piercing the roof. To describe the feelings under which I witnessed the devouring flames preying upon a national monument, which every man must look upon with admiration, requires a pen more descriptive than mine. Grief, awe, wonder and admiration were the emotions with which I regarded the destruction of this venerable church. I soon obtained admission into the nave of the Cathedral, and observed the first falling down of the burnt embers. The flames illumined the interior with more than mid-day brightness; the light, pouring through the crevices, threw a brilliancy over the scene which imagination cannot paint. The fire, at this time, was wholly confined to the tower.