And declared that, «whoe'er might prefer the metallic, Meanwhile the poor Neddy, in torture and fear At length, a plain rustic, whose wit went so far ODE TO THE SUBLIME PORTE. GREAT Sultan, how wise are thy state compositions! In which thou command'st that all she politicians 'T is my fortune to know a lean Benthamite spinster- Who tells you how clever one Mr FUNBLANQUE is, To see her, ye Gods, a new Number perusing- Art. 3-Upon Fallacies,» JEREMY's own— (The chief fallacy being his hope to find readers);— Art. 4- Upon Honesty,» author unknown;Art. 5-(by the young Mr M-) « Hints to Breeders.>> Oh Sultan, oh Sultan, though oft for the bag And the bowstring, like thee, I am tempted to callThough drowning's too good for each blue-stocking hag, I would bag this she Benthamite first of them all! And-lest she should ever again lift her head From the watery bottom, her clack to renew,As a clog, as a sinker, far better than lead, I would hang round her neck her own darling Review. Gods! were there ever two such bores? Nothing else talk'd of, night or mornNothing in doors, or out of doors, But endless Catholics and Corn! Never was such a brace of pests- So addled in my cranium meet Here landlords, here polemics, nail you, Arm'd with all rubbish they can rake up; Prices and texts at once assail youFrom Daniel these, and those from Jacob.' And when you sleep, with head still torn Between the two, their shapes you mix, Till sometimes Catholics seem Corn,Then Corn again seems Catholics. Now Dantzic wheat before you floats- Oft, too, the Corn grows animate, And a whole crop of heads appears, Like Papists, bearding Church and StateThemselves, together by the ears! While, leaders of the wheat, a row Of Poppies, gaudily declaiming, Yes, waft me, Parry, to the Pole; "Twixt bores and ice-bergs-on my soul, CORN AND CATHOLICS. Utrum borum Dirius borum?-INCERTI AUCTORIS. WHAT! still those two infernal questions, That with our meals, our slumbers mixThat spoil our tempers and digestionsEternal Corn and Catholics! This pains-taking gentleman has been at the trouble of counting, with the assistance of Cocker, the number of metaphors in Moore's .Life of Sheridan, and has found them to amount, as nearly as possible, to 2235, and some fractions, A CASE OF LIBEL. The greater the truth, the worse the libel.. A CERTAIN Sprite, who dwells below ('T were a libel, perhaps, to mention where) Came up incog., some years ago, To try, for a change, the London air. So well he look'd, and dress'd and talk'd, Author of the late Report on Foreign Corn. The Horn Gate, through which the ancients supposed all true dreams (such as those of the Popish Plot, etc.) to pass. (His horns, it seems, are made t' unscrew; In short, he look'd extremely natty, And ev'n contrived-to his own great wonderBy dint of sundry scents from Gattie, To keep the sulphurous hogo under. And so my gentleman hoof'd about, Unknown to all but a chosen few At White's and Crockford's, where, no doubt, He had many post-obits falling due. Alike a gamester and a wit, At night he was seen with Crockford's crew; At morn with learned dames would sit So pass'd his time 'twixt black and blue. Some wish'd to make him an M. P., But, finding Wilks was also one, he Swore, in a rage, « he'd be d-d if he Would ever sit in one house with Johnny.»> At length, as secrets travel fast, And devils, whether he or she, Are sure to be found out at last, The affair got wind most rapidly. The press, the impartial press, that snubs « We warn good men to keep aloof From a grim old Dandy, seen about, With a fire-proof wig, and a cloven hoof, Through a neat cut Hoby smoking out.>> Now, the Devil being a gentleman, Who piques himself on well-bred dealings, You may guess, when o'er these lines he ran, How much they hurt and shock'd his feelings. Away he posts to a man of law, And 't would make you laugh could you have seen 'em, As paw shook hand, and hand shook paw, For oh, 't was nuts to the father of lies (As this wily fiend is named in the Bible), To find it settled by laws so wise, That the greater the truth, the worse the libel! LITERARY ADVERTISEMENT. WANTED-Authors of all-work, to job for the season, No matter which party, so faithful to neither:Good hacks, who, if posed for a rhyme or a reason, Can manage, like *****, to do without either. If in gaol, all the better for out-o'-door topics; For a Dramatist too, the most useful of schools He can study high life in the King's Bench community: Aristotle could scarce keep him more within rules, And of place he, at least, must adhere to the unity. Any lady or gentleman come to an age To have good « Reminiscences» (three-score, or higher), Will meet with encouragement-so much, per page, And the spelling and grammar both found by the buyer. No matter with what their remembrance is stock'd, They may treat us, like Kelly, with old jeux-d'esprits, There's nothing, at present, so popular growing As your Autobiographers-fortunate elves, Who manage to know all the best people going, Without having ever been heard of themselves. And 't was « hail, good fellow, well met,» be- Wanted, also, a new stock of Pamphlets on corn, tween 'em. Straight an indictment was preferr'dAnd much the Devil enjoy'd the jest, When, asking about the bench, he heard That, of all the Judges, his own was Best. In vain Defendant profferr'd proof That Plaintiffs self was the Father of EvilBrought Hoby forth, to swear to the hoof, And Stultz, to speak to the tail of the Devil. The Jury-saints, all snug and rich, And readers of virtuous Sunday papers, Found for the Plaintiff-on hearing which The Devil gave one of his loftiest capers. i Funds, Physic, Corn, Poetry, Boxing, Romance, For attaining, at last, the least knowledge of any. Nine times out of ten, if his title is good, The material within of small consequence is;Let him only write fine, and, if not understood, Why, that's the concern of the reader, not his. Nota bene.-An Essay, now printing, to show That Horace (as clearly as words could express it) Was for taxing the Fundholders, ages ago, When he wrote thus-« Quodcunque in Fund is, assess it.' THE SLAVE. I HEARD, as I lay, a wailing sound « He is dead, he is dead!» the rumour flew; And I raised my chain, and turn'd me round, And ask'd, through the dungeon window, « who?»> I saw my livid tormentors pass; Their grief 't was bliss to hear and see! For never came joy to them, alas! That did n't bring deadly bane to me. Eager I look'd through the mist of night, And ask'd, «< What foe of my race hath died? Is it he that Doubter of law and right, Whom nothing but wrong could e'er decide << Who, long as he sees but wealth to win, Hath never yet felt a qualm or doubt What suitors for justice he 'd keep in, Or what suitors for freedom he 'd shut out « Who, a clog for ever on Truth's advance, Stifles her (like the Old Man of the Sea Round Sindbad's neck 2), nor leaves a chance Of shaking him off-is 't he? is 't he?» Ghastly my grim tormentors smiled, And thrusting me back to my den of woe, With a laughter even more fierce and wild Than their funeral howling, answer'd « No!» But the cry still pierced my prison gate, Whom Fame unwillingly shines upon << Whose name is one of the ill-omen'd words They link with hate on his native plains; And why?-they lent him hearts and swords, And he, in return, gave scoffs and chains! « Is it he? is it he ?» I loud inquired, When, hark! there sounded a royal knell ; And I knew what spirit had just expired, And, slave as I was, my triumph fell. According to the common reading, « quodcunque infundis, acescit." 3. You fell, said they, into the hands of the Old Man of the Sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling by his malicious tricks.. -STORY OF Sindbad. He had pledged a hate unto me and mine, And he now was dead, and-I could n't rejoice! And carries a smile, with a curse below! For the fatal fault of an erring head- And for misery ever his purse and tear. ODE TO FERDINAND. QUIT the sword, thou King of men, First thy care, O King! devote If thou couldst a remnant get After this, we is try thy hand, Manta-max og Ferdinand, For old Goody Westmoreland; One who loves, like Mother Gole, Church and State with all her soul; And has passed ter life in froucs Worthy of your Apostolica. Chase, in dresing this old flirt. Something that won't show the dirt, As, from habit, every minute Goody Westmoreland is in it. This is all I now shall ask: Hie thee, monarch, to thy task; Finish Eldon's frills and borders, Then return for further orders. Oh what progress, for our sake, Kings in mininery make! Ribands, garters, and such things, Are supplied by other KingsFerdinand his rank denotes By providing petticoats. HAT VERSUS WIG. • At the interment of the Duke of York, Lord Eldos, in order to guard against the effects of the damp, stood upon his hat during the whole of the ceremony.. metus omnes et inexorabile fatum Sabjecit podības, strepitumque Acherontis avari. TWITT Eldon's Hat and Eldon's Wig Quoth Wig, with consequential air, << Pooh! pooh! you surely can't design, My worthy beaver, to compare Your station in the state to mine. Who meets the learned legal crew? «T was mine our master's toil to share, And merrily to swear went they;—4 Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below and gods above, For Love is Heav'n and Heav'n is Love.-Scott. 1. Brim, a naughty woman.—Grose. Ghost [eneath).-Swear! ■ Hamlet.-lla, ba! say'st thou so? Art thou there, Truepenny? Come on. His Lordship's demand for fresh affidavits was incessant. Then, Joch pose Welesity to condema, be Whether I was only · Hel and Jemmy, «No, no, my worthy beaver, no Though cheapen'd at the cheapest hatter's, And smart enough, as beavers go, Thou neer wert made for public matters.» Here Wig concinded his oration, Looking, as wigs do, wondrous wise; «Ha' dost thou then so soon forget Think of that night, that fearful night, To venture his podagric toe! Who was it then, thou boaster, say, And saved him from a mortal cough? <Think, if Catarrh had quench'd that sun, How blank this world had been to thee! Without that head to shine upon, Oh Wig, where would thy glory be? You too, ye Britons,-had this hope Of Church and State been ravish'd from ye, Oh think. how Canning and the Pope Would then have played up 'Hell and Tommy." «At sea, there's but a plank, they say, 'Twixt seamen and annihilation;— A Hat, that awful moment, lay At this «Oh!!!» The Times' Reporter On his return, he found these shocks THE PERIWINKLES AND THE LOCUSTS. A SALMAGUNDIAN HYMN. • To Panurge was assigned the Lairdship of Salmagundi, which was yearly worth 6.789,106,789 ryals, besides the revenue of the L custs and Periwinkles, amounting one year with another to the value of 2,435,768, etc. etc.-RABELAIS. « HURRA! Hurra!» I heard them say, And they cheer'd and shouted all the way, As the Laird of Salmagundi went, To open in state his Parliament. The Salmagundians once were rich, Or thought they were-no matter which- 5, 6, 7, 8, and g and 10, And proved themselves most wealthy men! So, on they went, a prosperous crew, The people wise, the rulers clever,- Would thus go flourishing on for ever. But, lord! they found there was n't a tittle And lost by Locusts ten times more! Alack, alack and a well-a-day! And still, as they thinn'd and died away, The Locusts, ay, and the Locusts' Bill, Grew fatter and fatter every day! «Oh fie! oh fie!» was now the cry, As they saw the gaudy show go by, And the Laird of Salmagundi went To open his Locust Parliament! NEW CREATION OF PEERS. BATCH THE FIRST. His 'prentice han' He tried on man, And then he made the lasses. « AND now, quoth the Minister (eased of his panics, And ripe for each pastime the summer affords), Accented as in Swift's line Not so a nation's revenues are paid. << Having had our full swing at destroying mechanics, By way of set-off, let us make a few Lords. « Tis pleasant-while nothing but mercantile fractures, Some simple, some compound, is dinn'd in our earsTo think that, though robb'd of all coarse manufactures, We still keep our fine manufacture of Peers; << Those Gobelin productions, which Kings take a pride In engrossing the whole fabrication and trade of; Choice tapestry things, very grand on one side, But showing, on t' other, what rags they are made of.»> The plan being fix'd, raw material was sought, No matter how middling, if Tory the creed be; And first-to begin with-Squire Wortley,'t was thought, For a Lord was as raw a material as need he. Next came, with his penchant for painting and pelf, The tasteful Sir Charles, so renown'd, far and near, For purchasing pictures, and selling himself,— And both (as the public well knows) very dear. Beside him Sir John comes, with equal éclat, in; Stand forth,chosen pair, while for titles we measure ye; Both connoisseur baronets, both fond of drawing, Sir John, after nature, Sir Charles, on the Treasury. But, bless us!-behold a new candidate come In his hand he upholds a prescription, new written; He poiseth a pill-box 'twixt finger and thumb, And he asketh a seat 'mong the Peers of Great Britain! « No-ask it not, ask it not, dear Doctor Halford - Is to bask in its light from the brows of another; And grandeur o'er thee shall reflect from thy spouse, As o'er Vesey Fitzgerald 't will shine through his mother.» Thus ended the First Batch-and Jenky, much tired SPEECH ON THE UMBRELLA 2 QUESTION. BY LORD ELDON. Vos inumbrelles video.»-Ex Juvenil. Georgii Canningi. Mr Lords, I'm accused of a trick that, God knows, is The last into which, at my age, I could fall 1 Among the persons mentioned as likely to be raised to the peerage are the mother of Mr Vesey Fitzgerald, etc. A case which interested the public very much at this period. A gentleman, of the name of Bell, having left his umbrella behind him in the House of Lords, the door-keepers, standing, no doubt, on the privileges of that noble body, refused to restore it to him; and the above speech, which may be considered as a pendant to that of the Learned Earl on the Catholic Question, arose out of the transaction. From Mr Canning's translation of Jekyl's- |