TOPICS OF THE DAY.
THE ROYAL SALUTE:
THE Chronicle this n'eek edified its readers with the following ex. quieite morceau of Court news. " Earl Grey, on his recent arrival at the Pavilion at Brighton, was immedi- ately introduced to the sing ; by whom he was most cordially and affectionately embraced, and complimented on his improved state of health, occasioned by a short relaxation from the extreme toils of office, and his visit to his native hills. His Majesty paid a similar compliment to the Lord Chancellor, after his return from Brougham Hall."
Fancy cur bluff old Sailor King, who, when young and upright, stood but five feet four or thereabouts, and is now bent with age, hugging his two tall Ministers one after the other ! Unless the King get upon a chair to embrace them, he could scarcely manage to reach higher than Lord GREY'S midriff; or, at the utmost, to lay one hand on Lord BROUGHAM'S scapula—and that would amount to a touch of the humerus. A facetious son of eEscula- phis once prescribed to a love-sick damsel, who complained, among other ailments, of sore throat, "a shirt-sleeve with an arm in it put round the neck at night." The King's arm, applied as a waist- band, must doubtless be equally efficacious to a Minister languish- ing for Royal favour. As the light of the King's countenance is compared to the sun, so should the clasp of his embrace be likened to the bracing air. But we suspect, with the Standard, that the paragreph is a bit of fudge ; and that our jolly, homely King, instead of holding out his knuckles to be kissed, or giving them a hug, gave his Minis- ters each a hearty shake of the hand, and complimented them something after this fashion—" My Lords, I'm glad to see you both. GREY, you look as well and hearty as ever you did. The country-air agrees with you as well as the sea-breeze does with me. Those damned lying papers talk of your retiring, because you're knocked up ; but I dare say you can stand the badgering of another session better than half the lazy lubberly Lords in the House—eh ! my Lord, what say you ? As for BROUGHAM, here he's as tough as a cable. How did you leave your mother, my Lord? You're harder worked than GREY; but whenever you come, you've always a joke ready fur me. No jokes in your Court, BROUGHAM !—damned dull place that. Come, sit down, and let's to business."
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