Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life, On a question, my Lord, there's so much to abhor in ? A question-like asking one, "How is your But not so the plan of our noble physicians, wife?" At once so confounded domestic and foreign. 1 See the proceedings of the Lords, Wednesday, March 1. 1826, when Lord King was severely reproved by several of the noble Peers, for making so many speeches against the Corn Laws. 2 This noble Earl said, that "when he heard the petition came from ladies' boot and shoemakers, he thought it must be against the 'corns' which they inflicted on the fair sex." "No Bread and the Tread-mill's" the regimen 1 What the devil has become of this Treasury wonder? It has Pitt's name on't, All brass, in the front, "Now what, we ask, is become of this Sinking Fundthese eight millions of surplus above expenditure, which were to reduce the interest of the national debt by the amount of four hundred thousand pounds annually? Where, indeed, is And R-b-ns-n's, scrawl'd with a goose-quill, the Sinking Fund itself?"- The Times. under. There's B-nth-m, whose English is all his own making, Who thinks just as little of settling a nation As he would of smoking his pipe, or of taking (What he, himself, calls) his " post-prandial vibration." 1 There are two Mr. M- -lls, too, whom those that love reading Through all that's unreadable, call very clever; — And, whereas M-ll Senior makes war on good breeding, M-11 Junior makes war on all breeding whatever! In short, my dear Goddess, Old England's divided And, as for myself, who've, like Hannibal, sworn Had England but One to stand by thee, Dear Corn, A HYMN OF WELCOME AFTER THE "Animas sapientiores fieri quiescendo." AND now-cross-buns and pancakes o'er- Thou'lt find in my Speech, if thou'lt read a few Having (God grant it!) pass'd away, pages. For therein I've prov'd, to my own satisfaction, And that of all 'Squires I've the honour of meeting, Collective Wisdom, shine again! Come, Ayes and Noes, through thick and thin, — That 'tis the most senseless and foul-mouth'd de- Come, voters of Supplies-bestowers To say that poor people are fond of cheap eating. On the contrary, such the "chaste notions?" of food And, oh! for Monopoly what a blest day, Of jackets upon trumpet-blowers, At eighty mortal pounds the jacket! 6 Come-free, at length, from Joint-Stock cares- Whose dreams of premium knew no boundary; That you would even have taken tea (Had you been ask'd) with Mr. Goundry.7 When the Land and the Silk 3 shall, in fond Come, matchless country-gentlemen; combination, (Like Sulky and Silky, that pair in the play,1) Cry out, with one voice, for High Rents and Starvation! Long life to the Minister!- -no matter who, Or how dull he may be, if, with dignified spirit, he Keeps the ports shut-and the people's mouths, too, Come, wise Sir Thomas-wisest then, When creeds and corn-laws are debated; A 'Squire is transubstantiated. Come, L-derd-e, and tell the world, As never scratch was curl'd before- We shall all have a long run of Freddy's pros- And working-people, spoil'd by food, perity. The less they eat, will work the more. 1 The venerable Jeremy's phrase for his after-dinner walk. pædia assures us, has a particular liking for every thing 2 A phrase in one of Sir T-m-s's last speeches. 3 Great efforts were, at that time, making for the exclusion of foreign silk. 4 Road to Ruin." 5 This is meant not so much for a pun, as in allusion to the natural history of the Unicorn, which is supposed to be something between the Bos and the Asinus, and, as Rees's Cyclo "chaste." 6 An item of expense which Mr. Hume in vain endeavoured to get rid of: trumpeters, it appears, like the men of AllSouls, must be "bene vestiti." 7 The gentleman, lately before the public, who kept his Joint-Stock Tea Company all to himself, singing" Te solo adoro." My tradesmen are smashing by dozens, But this is all nothing, they say; For bankrupts, since Adam, are cousins,So, it's all in the family way. My Debt not a penny takes from me, My senators vote away millions, To put in Prosperity's budget; And though it were billions or trillions, The generous rogues wouldn't grudge it. 'Tis all but a family hop, 'Twas Pitt began dancing the hay; Hands round!-why the deuce should we stop? "Tis all in the family way. My labourers used to eat mutton, As any great man of the State does ; And now the poor devils are put on Small rations of tea and potatoes. But cheer up, John, Sawney, and Paddy, The King is your father, they say; So, ev'n if you starve for your Daddy, "Tis all in the family way. My rich manufacturers tumble, My poor ones have nothing to chew; And, even if themselves do not grumble, Their stomachs undoubtedly do. But coolly to fast en famille, Is as good for the soul as to pray; And famine itself is genteel, When one starves in a family way. I have found out a secret for Freddy, Announces "the Devil to pay," Let him write on the bills, "Nota bene, ""Tis all in the family way." BALLAD FOR THE CAMBRIDGE ELECTION. "I authorized my Committee to take the step which they did, of proposing a fair comparison of strength, upon the understanding that whichever of the two should prove to be the weakest, should give way to the other."- Extract from Mr. W. J. B-kes's Letter to Mr. G-lb-n. B-KES is weak, and G-lb-n too, No one e'er the fact denied ;Which is" weakest" of the two, Cambridge can alone decide. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, Which is weakest, Cambridge, say. G-lb-n of the Pope afraid is, B-kes, as much afraid as he; Never yet did two old ladies On this point so well agree. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, Which is weakest, Cambridge, say. Each a different mode pursues, Each the same conclusion reaches; B-kes is foolish in Reviews, G-lb-n, foolish in his speeches. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, Which is weakest, Cambridge, say. Each a different foe doth damn, When his own affairs have gone ill; B-kes he damneth Buckingham, G-lb-n damneth Dan O'Connell. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, Which is weakest, Cambridge, say. Once, we know, a horse's neigh Fix'd the' election to a throne, So, which ever first shall bray, Choose him, Cambridge, for thy own. Choose him, choose him by his bray, Thus elect him, Cambridge, pray. June, 1826. MR. ROGER DODSWORTH. 1826. TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES. Sir, Having just heard of the wonderful resurrection of Mr. Roger Dodsworth from under an avalanche, where he had remained, bien frappé, it seems, for the last 166 years, I hasten to impart to you a few reflections on the subject. — Yours, &c. LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI. WHAT a lucky turn up!-just as Eld-n's with drawing, To find thus a gentleman, froz'n in the year K K |