NEXT week will be publish'd (as " Lives" are the WHAT! Miguel, not patriotic? oh, fye, rage) The whole Reminiscences, wond'rous and strange, Of a small puppy-dog, that liv'd once in the cage Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change. Though the dog is a dog of the kind they call 66 sad," 'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends; And few dogs have such opportunities had Of knowing how Lions behave-among friends; How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks, thinks That the Lion was no such great things after all. Though he roar'd pretty well-this the puppy allows It was all, he says, borrow'd-all second-hand roar; After so much good teaching 'tis quite a take-in, Sir; First school'd, as you were, under Metternich's eye, And then (as young misses say) "finish'd" at Windsor! 3 1 The nom de guerre under which Colman has written some of his best farces. 2 At the commencement of this year, the designs of Don Miguel and his partisans against the constitution established by his brother had begun more openly to declare themselves. 3 Don Miguel had paid a visit to the English court, at the close of the year 1827. 4 Dressed with a pint of the strongest spirits a favourite dish of the Great Frederick of Prussia, and which he persevered in eating even on his death-bed, much to the horror of his physician Zimmerman. While Peel, the showman in the middle, cracks Your small German Princes on frogs and sour crout, A dish rather dear, if, in cooking, they blunder And Papist's winkers could be still kept on! it ; Not content with the common hot meat on a table, They're partial (eh, Mig ?) to a dish of cold under it !! No wonder a Don of such appetites found But no, false hopes-not even the great Ducrow If once my Lord his graceful balance loses, Are her Maintenon cutlets and soup à la Reine. That instant ends their glorious horsemanship! The promises great men strew about them; Of monarchs, who rule as well without them!— Curious it was to see this mass Of lost and torn-up reputations;- 2 Astolpho "Ho, ho!" quoth he, "I know full well "From whom these two stray matters fell;". Then, casting away, with loathful shrug, The' uncleaner waif (as he would a drug The' Invisible's own dark hand had mix'd), His gaze on the other firm he fix'd, And trying, though mischief laugh'd in his eye, To be moral, because of the young imps by, "What a pity!" he cried—" so fresh its gloss, "So long preserv'd-'tis a public loss ! "This comes of a man, the careless blockhead, Keeping his character in his pocket; 66 "And there-without considering whether Well used to a breach, the brave Subaltern dreads Awkward breaches of syntax a hundred times more; And, though often condemn' to see breaking of heads, He had ne'er seen such breaking of Priscian's before. However, the job's sure to pay-that's enoughSo, to it he sets with his tinkering hammer, Convinc'd that there never was job half so tough As the mending a great Major-General's grammar. But, lo, a fresh puzzlement starts up to view — New toil for the Sub.-for the Lord new expense: 'Tis discover'd that mending his grammar wo'n't do, As the Subaltern also must find him in sense! IH-k-n. 2 Or Lieutenant-General, as it may happen to be. At last -even this is achieved by his aid; And off struts my Lord, the Historian, in glory! "Still marvels much that not a soul should care A dandy spectre, puff'd quite through and through, IMITATION OF THE INFERNO OF DANTE. For the old Row's soft trade-winds to inspire,) "Così quel fiato gli spiriti mali Di quà, di là, di giù, di su gli mena." Inferno, canto 5. I TURN'D my steps, and lo, a shadowy throng "Whence and what are ye?" pitying I inquir'd 66 Touch'd with compassion for his ghastly crew, "One of our letter'd nymphs-excuse the pun 66 "And thou thyself"-here, anxious, I exclaim'd— "Tell us, good ghost, how thou, thyself, art nam'd." Me, Sir!" he blushing cried-" Ah, there's the rub 66 "Know, then-a waiter once at Brooks's Club, "Member of Brooks's!'-oh Promethean paff, "To be, each night, the waiter's perquisites:- 66 4 Not the charming L. E. L., and still less, Mrs. F. H. 2 The reader may fill up this gap with any one of the dissyl- whose poetry is among the most beautiful of the present day. labic publishers of London that occurs to him. 3 Rosa Matilda, who was for many years the writer of the political articles in the journal alluded to, and whose spirit still seems to preside" regnat Rosa"-over its pages. 5"History of the Clubs of London," announced as by *; Member of Brooks's." Scarce had the spectre's lips these words let drop, The nameless author, better known than read- Why as if one was not enough — Thy pig-tie with thy place resign, By tenancy in tail were ours — This was "the' unkindest cut of all!" It seem'd as though the' ascendant day A Dantesque allusion to the old saying, "Nine miles beyond H-ll, where Peter pitched his waistcoat." 2 The noble Lord, it is well known, cut off this muchrespected appendage, on his retirement from office some months since. And, proving Samson's story true, She lost her vigour with her queue. Parties are much like fish, 'tis said The tail directs them, not the head; Then, how could any party fail, That steer'd its course by B-th-st's tail? (As W-1l-gt-n will be anon) Yet - weep ye not, ye Tories true Fate has not yet of all bereft us; Though thus depriv'd of B-th-st's queue, We've E-b-h's curls still left us ;Sweet curls, from which young Love, so vicious, His shots, as from nine-pounders, issues; Grand, glorious curls, which, in debate, Surcharg'd with all a nation's fate, His Lordship shakes, as Homer's God did, 3 And oft in thundering talk comes near him ;— Except that, there, the speaker nodded, And, here, 'tis only those who hear him. Long, long, ye ringlets, on the soil Of that fat cranium may ye flourish, With plenty of Macassar oil, Through many a year your growth to nourish! And, ah, should Time too soon unsheath His barbarous shears such locks to sever, |