And Sir George even doubts,-could he choose his

disorder,

"Twixt coffin and coronet, which he would order.

This being the case, why, I thought, my dear Emma "Twere best to fight shy of so curs'd a dilemma; And though I confess myself somewhat a villain, To've left idol mio without an addio,

Console your sweet heart, and, a week hence, from Milan

I'll send you-some news of Bellini's last trio.

N.B.-Have just pack'd up my travelling set-out,
Things a tourist in Italy can't go without-
Viz., a pair of gants gras, from old Houbigant's
shop,

Good for hands that the air of Mont Cenis might chap.

Small presents for ladies,-and nothing so wheedles
The creatures abroad as your golden-eyed needles.
A neat pocket Horace, by which folks are cozen'd
To think one knows Latin, when-one, perhaps,
doesn't;

With some little book about heathen mythology,
Just large enough to refresh one's theology;
Nothing on earth being half such a bore as
Not knowing the difference 'twixt Virgins and
Floras,

Once more, love, farewell, best regards to the girls,
And mind you beware of damp feet and new Earls.
HENRY.

TRIUMPH OF BIGOTRY.

"COLLEGE.We announced, in our last, that Lefroy and Shaw were returned. They were chaired yesterday; the Students of the College determined, it would seem, to imitate the mob in all things, harnessing themselves to the car, and the Masters of Arts bearing Orange flags and bludgeons before, beside, and behind the car." Dublin Evening Post, Dec. 20, 1832.

Ar, yoke ye to the bigots' car,
Ye chosen of Alma Mater's scions;-
Fleet chargers drew the God of War,
Great Cybele was drawn by lions,
And Sylvan Pan, as Poets dream,
Drove four young panthers in his team.
Thus classical L-fr-y, for once, is,
Thus, studious of a like turn-out,
He harnesses young sucking dunces,
To draw him, as their Chief, about,
And let the world a picture see
Of Dulness yok'd to Bigotry:

1 See the lives of these two poets for the circumstances under which they left Dublin College.

2 In the year 1799, the Board of Trinity College, Dublin, thought proper, as a mode of expressing their disapprobation of Mr. Grattan's public conduct, to order his portrait, in the Great Hall of the

Showing us how young College hacks
Can pace with bigots at their backs,
As though the cubs were born to draw
Such luggage as L-fr-y and Sh-w.

Oh shade of Goldsmith, shade of Swift,
Bright spirits whom, in days of yore,
This Queen of Dulness sent adrift,

As aliens to her foggy shore; I—
Shade of our glorious Grattan, too,
Whose very name her shame recalls;
Whose effigy her bigot crew

Revers'd upon their monkish walls,Bear witness (lest the world should doubt) To your mute Mother's dull renown, Then famous but for Wit turn'd out,

And Eloquence turn'd upside down;
But now ordain'd new wreaths to win,
Beyond all fame of former days,
By breaking thus young donkeys in
To draw M.P.s, amid the brays
Alike of donkeys and M.A.s;-
Defying Oxford to surpass 'em
In this new " Gradus ad Parnassum."

'Twas grav'd on the Stone of Destiny," In letters four, and letters three; And ne'er did the King of the Gulls go by But those awful letters scar'd his eye; For he knew that a Prophet Voice had said, "As long as those words by man were read, "The ancient race of the Gulls should ne'er "One hour of peace or plenty share.” But years on years successive flew, And the letters still more legible grew,At top, a T, an H, an E,

And underneath, D. E. B. T.

Some thought them Hebrew,-such as Jews,
More skill'd in Scrip than Scripture, use;
While some surmis'd 'twas an ancient way
Of keeping accounts, (well known in the day
Of the fam'd Didlerius Jeremias,
Who had thereto a wonderful bias,)
And prov'd in books most learnedly boring,
'Twas called the Pontick way of scoring.

University, to be turned upside down, and in this position i remained for some time.

3 Liafail, or the Stone of Destiny,- for which, see Westminster Abbey.

Of all the misfortunes as yet brought to pass

speeches,

The saddest and worst is the schism which, alas! It has caus'd between W-th-r-l's waistcoat and breeches.

All mongers in both wares to proffer their love;

1 It will be recollected that the learned gentleman himself boasted one night in the House of Commons, of having sat in the very chair which this allegorical lady had occupied.

Whether Grace preventing, Grace particular,
Grace of that breed called Quinquarticular —
In short, he rummag'd his holy mind,
The' exact description of Grace to find,
Which thus could represented be
By a footman in full livery.

At last, out loud in a laugh he broke,
(For dearly the good saint lov'd his joke)?
And said surveying, as sly he spoke,
The costly palace from roof to base -

Well, it isn't, at least, a saving Grace!” "Umph," said the lackey, a man of few words, The Archbishop is gone to the House of Lords." To the House of the Lord, you mean, my son, For in my time, at least, there was but one; Unless such many-fold priests as these Seek, ev'n in their LORD, pluralities! No time for gab," quoth the man in lace: Then, slamming the door in St. Jerome's face, With a curse to the single knockers all, Went to finish his port in the servants' hall, And propose a toast (humanely meant To include even Curates in its extent) "To all as serves the' Establishment."

ST. JEROME ON EARTH.

SECOND VISIT.

"This much I dare say, that, since lording and loitering hath come up, preaching hath come down, contrary to the Apostles' times. For they preached and lorded not: and now they lord and preach not..... Ever since the Prelates were made Lords and Nobles, the plough standeth; there is no work done, the people starve."- Latimer, Sermon of the Plough.

"ONCE more," said Jerome, "I'll run up and see How the Church goes on," and off set he. Just then the packet-boat, which trades

"A sign of the times, I plainly see,"

Said the Saint to himself as, pondering, he Sail'd off in the death-boat gallantly.

Arriv'd on earth, quoth he, "No more "I'll affect a body, as before; "For I think I'd best, in the company "Of Spiritual Lords, a spirit be, "And glide, unseen, from See to See." But oh! to tell what scenes he saw,It was more than Rabelais' pen could draw. For instance, he found Ex-t-r, Soul, body, inkstand, all in a stir,For love of God? for sake of King? For good of people? - no such thing; But to get for himself, by some new trick, A shove to a better bishoprick.

There's Doctor Hodgson galloping by!"

Ay, that's the man," says the Saint, "to follow," And off he sets, with a loud view-hollo,

At Hodgson's heels, to catch, if he can,
A glimpse of this singular plural man.
But, talk of Sir Boyle Roche's bird!?
To compare him with Hodgson is absurd.
"Which way, sir, pray, is the doctor gone?"-
"He is now at his living at Hillingdon."-

66

No, no,-you're out, by many a mile, "He's away at his Deanery, in Carlisle.""Pardon me, sir; but I understand

"He's gone to his living in Cumberland.""God bless me, no,- he can't be there;

You must try St. George's, Hanover Square."

dress of an English bishop, was at this time beginning to be dispensed with.

5 See the Bishop's Letter to Clergy of his Diocese.

61 John, v. 7. A text which, though long given up by all the rest of the orthodox world, is still pertinaciously adhered to by this Right Reverend scholar.

7 It was a saying of the well-known Sir Boyle, that "a man could not be in two places at once, unless he was a bird."

That's my mode of practice.

Dr. Whig.

True, quite in your line, But unluckily not much, till lately, in mine. "Tis so painful

Dr. Tory.-Pooh, nonsense-ask Ude how he feels,

When, for Epicure feasts, he prepares his live ecls, By flinging them in, 'twixt the bars of the fire, And letting them wriggle on there till they tire. He, too, says 'tis painful ”—“quite makes his heart bleed "

But "your eels are a vile, oleaginous breed.”— He would fain use them gently, but Cookery says "No,"

And-in short-eels were born to be treated just so.3

'Tis the same with these Irish, who're odder fish still,

Your tender Whig heart shrinks from using them ill;

I, myself, in my youth, ere I came to get wise,

throw out!

A volcano of nonsense, in active display; While V-ne, as a butt, amidst laughter would spout

The hot nothings he's full of, all night and all day.

And then, for a finish, there's C-mb-d's Duke,Good Lord, how his chin-tuft would crackle in air!

Unless (as is shrewdly surmis'd from his look) He's already bespoke for combustion elsewhere.

1 The Ms of H-tf-d's Fête. From dread of cholera, his Lordship had ordered tar-barrels to be burned in every direction.

2 These verses, as well as some others that follow, (p. 633,) were extorted from me by that lamentable measure of the Whig ministry, the Irish Coercion Act.

But, in fact, my dear brother,—if I may make bold To style you, as Peachum did Lockit, of old,We, Doctors, must act with the firmness of Ude, And, indifferent like him, so the fish is but stew'd,

Must torture live Pats for the general good.

[Here patient groans and kicks a little. Dr. Whig-But what, if one's patient's so devilish perverse,

That he won't be thus tortur'd?

Dr. Tory. Coerce, sir, coerce. You're a juvenile performer, but once you begin. You can't think how fast you may train your hand in:

And (smiling) who knows but old Tory may take to the shelf,

3 This eminent artist, in the second edition of the work wherein he propounds this mode of puritying his eels, professes himself much concerned at the charge of inhumanity brought against his prac tice, but still begs leave respectfully to repeat that it is the only proper mode of preparing eels for the table.