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What falsehood rankles in their hearts,
Who say the Pr-e neglects the arts -
Neglects the arts?— no, Str—bl-g', no;
Thy Cupids answer “ 'tis not so;"
And every floor, that night, shall tell
Hor quick thou daubest, and how well.
Shine as thou may'st in French vermilion,
Thou'rt best, beneath a French cotillion;
And still com'st off, whate'er thy faults,
With flying colours in a Waltz.

Nor need'st thou mourn the transient date
| To thy best works assign'd by fate.
While some chef-d'æuvres live to weary one,
Thine boast a short life and a merry one;
Their hour of glory past and gone
With " Molly put the kettle on !" !

Among the papers, enclosed in Dr. D-8-1-nos Letter, was found an Heroic Epistle in Latin verse, from Pope Joan to her Lover, of which, as it is rather a curious document, I shall venture to give some account. This female Pontiff was a native of England, (or, according to others, of Germany,) who, at an early age, disguised herself in male attire, and followed her lover, a young ecclesiastic, to Athens, where she studied with such effect, that upon her arrival at Rome, she was thought worthy of being raised to the Pontificate. This Epistle is addressed to her Lover (whom she had elevated to the dignity of Cardinal), soon after the fatal accouchement, by which her Fallibility was betrayed.

She begins by reminding him tenderly of the time, when they were together at Athens - when, as she says,

But, bless my soul! I've scarce a leaf Of paper left — so, must be brief,

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This festive Fête, in fact, will be The former Fête's fac-simile ;3 The same long Masquerade of Rooms, All trick'd up in such odd costumes, (These, P-rt-r4, are thy glorious works!) You'd swear Egyptians, Moors, and Turks, Bearing Good-Taste some deadly malice, Had clubb'd to raise a Pic-Nic Palace And each to make the olio pleasant Had sent a State-Room as a present. The same fauteuils and girondoles The same gold Assess, pretty souls ! That, in this rich and classic dome, Appear so perfectly at home. The same bright river 'mong the dishes, But not — - ah! not the same dear fishesLate hours and claret kill'd the old one's So 'stead of silver and of gold ones, (It being rather hard to raise Fish of that specie now-a-days) Some sprats have been by Y-rm-th's wish, Promoted into Silver Fish, And Gadgeons (so V-05-tt-t told The R-g-t) are as good as Gold !

by Ilissus' stream “ We whisp'ring walk'd along, and learn'd to speak “ The tenderest feelings in the purest Greek ;“Ah, then how little did we think or hope, “ Dearest of men, that I should e'er be Pope! 6 “ That I, the humble Joan, whose house-wife art “ Seem'd just enough to keep thy house and heart, “ (And those, alas, at sixes and at sevens,) “ Should soon keep all the keys of all the heavens !"

Still less (she continues to say) could they have foreseen, that such a catastrophe as had happened in Council would befall them— that she

“ Should thus surprise the Conclave's grave de

corum, “ And let a little Pope pop out before 'em

Pope Innocent ! alas, the only one “ That name could e'er be justly fix'd upon."

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She then very pathetically laments the downfall of her greatness, and enumerates the various treasures to which she is doomed to bid farewell for ever :

"A foreign artist much patronized by the Prince Regent. 5 The salt-cellars on the Pr- -e's own table were in the * The name of a popular country-dance.

form of an Ass with panniers. * "C-riten He will exhibit a complete fac-simile, 6 Spanheim attributes the unanimity, with which Joan was in respect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Féte. elected, to that innate and irresistible charm, by which her sex, The same splendid draperies," &c. &c. Morning Post. though latent, operated upon the instinct of the Cardinals

* Mr. Walsh Porter, to whose taste was left the furnishing “Non vi aliquâ, sed concorditer, omnium in se converso desiof the rooms of Carlton House.

derio, quæ sunt blandientis sexus artes, latentes in hâc quan.

guam !”


Fert vallum!

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“ But oh, more dear, more precious ten times While turning here (laying his hand on his heart),

I find, ah wretched elf, “ Farewell my Lord, my Cardinal, my Lover! Thy List of dire Errata in myself. “ I made thee Cardinal — thou mad'st me- ah!

(Walks the stage in considerable agitation.) “ Thou mad'st the Papa of the world Mamma ! Oh Roman Punch! oh potent Curaçoa!

Oh Mareschino! Mareschino oh! I have not time at present to translate any more Delicious drams ! why have you not the art of this Epistle ; but I presume the argument which To kill this gnawing Book-worm in my heart ? the Right Hon. Doctor and his friends mean to deduce from it, is (in their usual convincing strain) He is here interrupted in his Soliloquy by perceivthat Romanists must be unworthy of Emancipation ing on the ground some scribbled fragments of now, because they had a Petticoat Pope in the paper, which he instantly collects, and “ by the Ninth Century. Nothing can be more logically light of two magnificent candelabras" discovers the clear, and I find that Horace had exactly the same following unconnected words, “ Wife neglectedviews upon the subject.

the Book "_" Wrong Measures”. -the Queen"

Mr. Lambert-the R-g—."
Romanus (eheu posteri negabitis !)
Emancipatus FEMINÆ

Ha! treason in my house! - Curst words, that

wither My princely soul, (shaking the papers violently)

what Demon brought you hither? My Wife;"_“ the Book " too!-stay-a nearer


(holding the fragments closer to the Candelabras) LETTER VII. PAGE 155.

Alas ! too plain, B, double 0, K, Book —

Death and destruction! The Manuscript, found enclosed in the Bookseller's Letter, turns out to be a Melo-Drama, in He here rings all the bells, and a whole legion of two Acts, entitled “ The Book !,” of which the valets enter. A scene of cursing and swearing Theatres, of course, had had the refusal, before it (very much in the German style) ensues, in the was presented to Messrs. L–ck-ngt—n and Co. course of which messengers are dispatched in difThis rejected Drama, however, possesses con- ferent directions, for the 1-rd Ch--ne-11—, siderable merit, and I shall take the liberty of laying the D_e of C-5-1-d, &c. &c. The intera sketch of it before my Readers.

mediate time is filled up by another Soliloquy, at The first Act opens in a very awful manner — the conclusion of which the aforesaid Personages Time, three o'clock in the morning - Scene, the rush on alarmed ; the D-ke with his stays only Bourbon Chamber 2 in C-rlt-n House — Enter half-laced, and the Ch-nc-11-r with his wig the PeR-8-t solus — After a few broken thrown hastily over an old red night-cap. " to sentences, he thus exclaims :

maintain the becoming splendour of his office.”s

The R—5—t produces the appalling fragments, Away — Away

upon which the Ch-nc-11—r breaks out into Thou haunt'st my fancy so, thou devilish Book,

exclamations of loyalty and tenderness, and relates I meet thee-trace thee, wheresoe'er I look.

the following portentous dream: I see thy damned ink in Eld—n's brows I see thy foolscap on my H-rt-d's Spouse —

'Tis scarcely two hours since V-ns-tt-t's head recalls thy leathern case, I had a fearful dream of thee, my P-elAnd all thy black-leaves stare from R-d-r's Methought I heard thee, midst a courtly crowd, face!

Say from thy throne of gold, in mandate loud,

1 There was, in like manner, a mysterious Book, in the impostoribus” would produce a coincidence altogether fers 16th Century, which employed all the anxious curiosity of the remarkable. Learned of that time. Every one spoke of it; many wrote 2 The same Chamber, doubtless, that was prepared for the against it ; though it does not appear than any body had ever reception of the Bourbons at the first Grand Féte, and wbich seen it; and Grotius is of opinion that no such Book ever was ornamented (all“ for the Deliverance of Europe ") with existed. It was entitled “ Liber de tribus impostoribus." fleurs-de-lys. (See Morhof, Cap. de Libris damnatis.) – Our more modern 3 “ To enable the individual, who holds the office of Chanmystery of “the Book” resembles this in many particulars ; cellor, to maintain it in becoming splendour.” ( A loud laugh.) and, if the number of Lawyers employed in drawing it up be -Lord CASTLEREAGH's Speech upon the Vice-Chancellor's Bul. stated correctly, a slight alteration of the title into “d tribus

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* Worship my whiskers!” —(weeps) not a knee chiefly upon the Trial and Imprisonment of two was there

Brothers l_ but as this forms the under plot of But bent and worshipp'd the Illustrious Pair, the Drama, I shall content myself with extracting Which carld in conscious majesty! (pulls out his from it the following speech, which is addressed handkerchief) - while cries

the two Brothers, as they “ exeunt severally” to Of “ Whiskers, whiskers !” shook the echoing Prison :

skies. Jast in that glorious hour, methought, there came, Go to your prisons, though the air of Spring With looks of injur'd pride, a Princely Dame, No mountain coolness to your cheeks shall bring; And a young maiden, clinging by her side, Though Summer flowers shall pass unseen away, As if she fear'd some tyrant would divide And all your portion of the glorious day Tro hearts that nature and affection tied ! May be some solitary beam that falls, The Matron came — within her right hand glow'd At morn or eve, upon your dreary walls — A radiant torch; while from her left a load Some beam that enters, trembling as if aw'd, Of Papers hung-(wipes his eyes) collected in To tell how gay the young world laughs abroad! her veil

Yet go — for thoughts as blessed as the air The vepal evidence, the slanderous tale,

Of Spring or Summer flowers await you there; The wounding hint, the current lies that pass Thoughts, such as He, who feasts his courtly crew Fromn Post to Courier, form'd the motley mass ; In rich conservatories, never knew; Which, with disdain, before the Throne she throws, Pure self-esteem — the smiles that light within And lights the Pile beneath thy princely nose. The Zeal, whose circling charities begin

(Weeps.) With the few lov'd ones Heaven has plac'd it near, Heav'ns, how it blaz'd!- I'd ask no livelier fire And spread, till all Mankind are in its sphere ; (With animation) To roast a Papist by, my gra- The Pride, that suffers without vaunt or plea, cious Sire!

And the fresh Spirit, that can warble free, But, ah! the Evidence-(weeps again) I mourn's Through prison-bars, its hymn to Liberty!

to see

Cast, as it burn'd, a deadly light on thee: The Scene next changes to a Tailor's Work-shop, And Tales and Hints their random sparkle flung, and a fancifully-arranged group of these Artists is And hiss'd and crackled, like an old maid's discovered upon the Shop-board — Their task evitongue;

dently of a royal nature, from the profusion of While Post and Courier, faithful to their fame, gold-lace, frogs, &c. that lie about — They all rise Made up in stink for what they lack'd in flame. and come forward, while one of them sings the When, lo, ye Gods! the fire ascending brisker, following Stanzas to the tune of “ Derry Down.” Now singes one, now lights the other whisker. Ah! where was then the Sylphid, that unfurls My brave brother Tailors, come, straighten your Her fairy standard in defence of curls ?

knees, Throne, Whiskers, Wig, soon vanish'd into smoke, For a moment, like gentlemen, stand up at ease, The watchman cried “ Past One,” and—I awoke. While I sing of our P—e (and a fig for his

railers) Here bis Lordship weeps more profusely than The Shop-board's delight! the Mæcenas of Tailors! erer, and the R-g-t (who has been very much

Derry down, down, down derry down. agitated during the recital of the Dream) by a movement as characteristic as that of Charles XII. Some monarchs take roundabout ways into note, when he was shot, claps his hands to his whiskers While His short cut to fame is — the cut of his to feel if all be really safe. A Privy Council is coat; held — all the Servants, &c. are examined, and it Philip's Son thought the World was too small for appears that a Tailor, who had come to measure

his Soul, the R-5-t for a Dress (which takes three whole But our R-g—t's finds room in a lac'd button-hole. pages of the best superfine clinquant in describing)

Derry down, &c. was the only person who had been in the Bourbon Chamber during the day. It is, accordingly, Look through all Europe's Kings — those, at least, determined to seize the Tailor, and the Council who go loose – breaks up with a unanimous resolution to be Not a King of them all's such a friend to the Goose, vigorous. The commencement of the Second Act turns

| Mr. Leigh Hunt and his brother.

So, God keep him increasing in size and renown, still lie luckily in his pocket) being produced, and Still the fattest and best fitted P- -e about town! skilfully laid beside the others, the following

Derry down, &c. billet-doux is the satisfactory result of their juxta

position. During the “Derry down ” of this last verse, a messenger from the S——-y of S- -e's Office Honour'd Colonel - my Wife, who's the Queen of rushes on, and the singer (who, luckily for the all slatterns, effect of the scene, is the very Tailor suspected of Neglected to put up the Book of new Patterns. the mysterious fragments) is interrupted in the She sent the wrong Measures too — shamefully midst of his laudatory exertions, and hurried away,

wrong to the no small surprise and consternation of his They're the same us’d for poor Mr. Lambert, when comrades. The Plot now hastens rapidly in its young ; developement - the management of the Tailor's But, bless you! they wouldn't go half round the examination is highly skilful, and the alarm, which R-8-he is made to betray, is natural without being So, hope you'll excuse yours till death, most ludicrous. The explanation, too, which he finally obedient. gives is not more simple than satisfactory. It appears that the said fragments formed part of a This fully explains the whole mystery – the self-exculpatory note, which he had intended to R-g-t resumes his wonted smiles, and the Drama send to Colonel M.M n upon subjects purely terminates as usual, to the satisfaction of all parprofessional, and the corresponding bits (which ties.





On one side lay unread Petitions,
On t'other, Hints from five Physicians ;
Here tradesmen's bills, - official papers,
Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours
There plans of saddles, tea and toast,
Death-warrants and the Morning Post.

“ It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it.”- Lord Castlereagu's Speech upon Colonel M Mahon's Appointment, April 14. 1812.

Last night I toss'd and turn'd in bed,
But could not sleep- at length I said,
“ I'll think of Viscount C—stl-r-gh,
“ And of his speeches — that's the way.”
And so it was, for instantly
I slept as sound as sound could be.
And then I dreamt. - so dread a dream!
Fuseli has no such theme;
Lewis never wrote or borrow'd
Any horror, half so horrid !

When lo! the Papers, one and all,
As if at some magician's call,
Began to flutter of themselves
From desk and table, floor and shelves,
And, cutting each some different capers,
Advanc’d, oh jacobinic papers!
As though they said, “ Our sole design is
“ To suffocate his Royal Highness !”
The Leader of this vile sedition
Was a huge Catholic Petition,
With grievances so full and heavy,
It threaten'd worst of all the bevy.
Then Common-Hall Addresses came
In swaggering sheets, and took their aim

Methought the Pre, in whisker'd state, Before me at his breakfast sate ;

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Right at the R-g-t's well-dress'd head,

I need not remind you how cursedly bad As if determind to be read.

Our affairs were all looking, when Father went Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly,

mad; 2 And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high ; A straight waistcoat on him and restrictions on me, Nay, er'n Death-warrants thought they'd best A more limited Monarchy could not well be. Be lively too, and join the rest.

I was call’d upon then, in that moment of puzzle,

To choose my own Minister — just as they muzzle But, oh the basest of defections !

A playful young bear, and then mock his disaster, His letter about “predilections

By bidding him choose out his own dancingHis own dear Letter, void of grace, Now flew up in its parent's face ! Shock'd with his breach of filial duty,

I thought the best way, as a dutiful son, He just could murmur “et Tu Brute ?” Was to do as Old Royalty's self would have done.3 Then sunk, subdued upon the floor

So I sent word to say, I would keep the whole At Fox's bust, to rise no more !

batch in,

The same chest of tools, without cleansing or I wak’d- and pray'd, with lifted hand,

patching; * Oh! never may this Dream prove true ;

For tools of this kind, like Martinus's sconce ; 4 Though paper overwhelms the land,

Would lose all their beauty, if purified once; * Let it not crush the Sovereign too!” And think -- only think-if our Father should

find, Upon graciously coming again to his mind, 5 That improvement had spoil'd any favourite ad

viser PARODY

That R-se was grown honest, or W—stm-rel-nd


That R-d-r was, ev'n by one twinkle, the

brighter At length, dearest Freddy, the moment is nigh, Or L-v-rp- l's speeches but half a pound lightWhen, with P-rc-v-l's leave, I may throw my chains by;

What a shock to his old royal heart it would be ! And, as time now is precious, the first thing I do, No!—far were such dreams of improvement from Is to sit down and write a wise letter to you.

And it pleas'd me to find, at the House, where, you

know, 6 There's such good mutton cutlets, and strong

curaçoa?, That the Marchioness call'd me a duteous old boy,

And my Y-rm-th's red whiskers grew redder I meant before now to have sent you this Letter,

for joy. But Y—rm—th and I thought perhaps 'twould be better

You know, my dear Freddy, how oft, if I would, To wait till the Irish affairs were decided - By the law of last Sessions I might have done good. (That is, till both Houses had prosed and divided, I might have withheld these political noodles With all due appearance of thought and digestion) From knocking their heads against hot Yankee For, though H-rtf—rd House had long settled Doodles ; the question,

I might have told Ireland I pitied her lot, I thought it but decent, between me and you, Might have sooth'd her with hope — but you know That the two other Houses should settle it too.

I did not.



"Letter from his Royal Highness the Prince Regent to the 4 The antique shield of Martinus Scriblerus, which, upon Duke of York, Feb. 13. 1812.

scouring, turned out to be only an old sconce. : “ I think it hardly necessary to call your recollection to 5 " I waved any personal gratification, in order that his the recent circumstances under which I assumed the authority Majesty might resume, on his restoration to health, every delegated to me by Parliament.” Prince's Letter.

power and prerogative," &c. - Prince's Letter. 3« My sense of duty to our Royal father solely decided 6 " And I have the satisfaction of knowing that such was that choice." - Ibid.

the opinion of persons for whose judgment,” &c. &c. - Ibid.

? The letter-writer's favourite luncheon.


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