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By-the-bye, have you found any friend that can conster
That Latin account, t'other day, of a Monster ?1
If we can't get a Russian, and that thing in Latin
Be not too improper, I think I'll bring that in.

LETTER VI.

FROM ABDALLAH IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN IN ISPAHAN.

WHILST thou, Mohassan (happy thou!)
Dost daily bend thy loyal brow
Before our King-our Asia's treasure!
Nutmeg of Comfort! Rose of Plea
sure!-

And bear'st as many kicks and bruises
As the said Rose and Nutmeg chooses; -
Thy head still near the bowstring's
borders,

And but left on till further orders!
Through London streets with turban
fair,

And caftan floating to the air,
I saunter on-the admiration
Of this short-coated population-
This sewed-up race-this buttoned
nation-

Who, while they boast their laws so
free,

Leave not one limb at liberty,

But live, with all their lordly speeches, The slaves of buttons and tight breeches.

1 Alluding, I suppose, to the Latin advertisement of a Lusus Nature in the newspapers lately.

I have made many inquiries about this Persian gentleman, but cannot satisfactorily ascertain who he is. From his notions of Religious Liberty, however, I conclu te that he is an importation of Ministers; and he has arrived just in time to assist the Pe and Mr. L-ck-e in their new Criental Plan of Reform. See the second of these Letters.-How Abdallah's Epistle to Ispahan found its way into the Twopenny Post Bag is more than I can pretend to account for.

3C'est un honnête homme,' said a Turkish governor of de Ruyter; 'c'est grand dommage qu'il soit Chrétien.'

Sunnites and Shiites are the two leading sects into which the Mohammedan world is divided; and they have gone on cursing and persecuting

Yet, though they thus their knee-panz fetter

(They're Christians, and they know no
better),

In some things they're a thinking nation,
And, on Religious Toleration,
I own I like their notions quite,
They are so Persian and so right!
You know our Sunnites, hateful dogs!
Whom every pious Shiite flogs,
Or longs to flog-'tis true, they pray
To God, but in an ill-bred way;
With neither arms, nor legs, nor faces
Stuck in their right, canonic places !

'Tis true, they worship Ali's name?—
Their heaven and ours are just the

same

(A Persian's heaven is easily made,
'Tis but-black eyes and lemonade).
Yet, though we've tried for centuries
back,

We can't persuade the stubborn pack,

each other, without any intermission, for about eleven hundred years. The Sunni is the cateblished sect in Turkey, and the Shia in Persia; and the differences between them turn chiefly upon those important points which our pious friend Abdallah, in the true spirit of Shiite ascendency, reprobates in this Letter.

5 Les Sunnites, qui étaient comme les cathcliques de Musulmanisme.'-D'Herbelot.

In contradistinction to the Sounis, who in their prayers cross their hands on the lower part of the breast, the Schiahs drop their arms in straight lines; and as the Founis, at certain periods of the prayer, press their foreheads on the ground or carpet, the Schiahs,' etc. etc.Forster's Voyage.

7 Les Turcs ne détestent pas Ali réciproquement; au contraire ils le reconnaissent,' etc. etc. -Chardin.

By bastinadoes, screws, or nippers, To wear the established pea-green slip. pers !1

Then-only think-the libertines ! They wash their toes, they comb their chins, 2

With many more such deadly sins! And (what's the worst, though last I rank it)

Believe the Chapter of the Blanket!
Yet. spite of tenets so flagitious,
(Which must at bottom be seditious
As no man living would refuse
Green slippers, but from treasonous
views;

Nor wash his toes, but with intent
To overturn the government!)
Such is our mild and tolerant way,
We only curse them twice a-day
(According to a form that's set),
And, far from torturing, only let
All orthodox believers beat 'em,
And twitch their beards, whene'er they
meet 'em.

As to the rest, they're free to do
Whate'er their fancy prompts them to,
Provided they make nothing of it
Towards rank or honour, power or
profit;

Which things, we naturally expect,
Belong to us, the Established sect,

Who disbelieve (the Lord be thanked)
The aforesaid Chapter of the Blanket.
The same mild views of Toleration
Whose Papists (full as given to rogue,
Inspire, I find, this buttoned nation,
And only Sunnites with a brogue)
As rascal Sunnites do with us.
Fare just as well, with all their fuss.

The tender Gazel 1 enclose
Is for my love, my Syriau Rose-
Take it, when night begins to fall,
And throw it o'er her mother's wall.

GAZEL

Rememberest thou the hour we past?
That hour, the happiest and the last !—
Oh! not so sweet the Siha thorn
To summer bees at break of morn,
Not half so sweet, through dale and
dell,

To camels' ears the tinkling bell,
As is the soothing memory
Of that one precious hour to me!
How can we live, so far apart?
Oh! why not rather heart to heart
United live and die?-
Like those sweet birds that fly toge-
ther,

With feather always touching feather,
Linked by a hook and eye !3

LETTER VII.

FROM MESSRS. L-CK-GT-N AND CO. TO

-, ESQ.4
PER POST, Sir, we send your MS.-looked it through-
Very sorry-but can't undertake-'twouldn't do.
Clever work, Sir !-would get up prodigiously well-
Its only defect is-it never would sell!

And though Statesmen may glory in being unbought,
In an Author we think, Sir, that's rather a fault.

"The Shiites wear green slippers, which the alludes is the Juftak, of which I find the followSunnites consider as a great abomination.'-ing account in Richardson :-'A sort of bird that Mariti.

2 For these points of difference, as well as for the Chapter of the Blanket, I must refer the reader (not having the book by me) to Picart's Account of the Mahometan Sects.

3 This will appear strange to an English reader, but it is literally translated from Abdallah's Persian; and the curious bird to which he

is said to have but one wing, on the opposite side to which the male has a hook and the female a ring, so that, when they fly, they are fastened together.'

From motives of delicacy, and indeed of fellow-feeling, I suppress the name of the author whose rejected manuscript was enclosed in this. letter.-See the Appendix.

Hard times, Sir,-most books are too dear to be read
Though the gold of Good-sense and Wit's small-change are fled,
Yet the paper we publishers pass, in their stead,
Rises higher each day, and ('tis frightful to think it)
Not even such names as F-tzg-r-d's can sink it!
However, Sir-if you're for trying again,
And at somewhat that's vendible-we are your men.

Since the Chevalier C-rr took to marrying lately,
The Trade is in want of a Traveller greatly-
No job, Sir, more easy-your Country once planned,
A month aboard ship and a fortnight on land
Puts your Quarto of Travels clean out of hand.
An East-India pamphlet's a thing that would tell-
And a lick at the Papists is sure to sell well.
Or-supposing you have nothing original in you-
Write Parodies, Sir, and such fame it will win you,
You'll get to the Blue-stocking Routs of Alb-n-a!1
(Mind-not to her dinners-a second-hand Muse
Mustn't think of aspiring to mess with the Blues.)
Or-in case nothing else in this world you can do-
The deuce is in't, Sir, if you cannot review!

Should you feer any touch of poetical glow,

We've a scheme to suggest-Mr. Sc-tt, you must know
(Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the Row),
Having quitted the Borders to seek new renown,
Is coming, by long Quarto stages, to Town;

And beginning with Rokeby (the job's sure to pay),
Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way.

Now, the Scheme is (though none of our hackneys can beat him)

To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet him ;

Who, by means of quick proofs-no revises-long coaches

May do a few Villas before Sc-tt approaches

Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby,

He ll reach, without foundering, at least Woburn Abbey.

Such, Sir, is our plan-if you're up to the freak,

'Tis a match! and we'll put you in training next week-
At present no more-in reply to this Letter, a
Line will oblige very much

Temple of the Muses.

Yours, et cetera,

1 This alludes, I believe, to a curious correspondence which is said to have passed lately be tween Alb-n-a, Countess of B-ck-gh-ms-e, and a certain ingenious Parodist.

a Paternoster Row.

296

LETTER VIII.

FROM COLONEL TH-M-S TO

--, ESQ.

Born for each other's fond allegiance!
Both gay Lotharios-both good dres

COME to our Fête,1 and bring with thee | Hail, first of Actors !2 best of R-g-ts!
Thy newest, best embroidery!
Come to our Fête, and show again
That pea-green coat, thou pink of men!
Which charmed all eyes that last sur-
veyed it.

When B--I's self inquired 'who made
it?'

When Cits came wondering from the
East,

And thought thee Poet Pye, at least!

Oh! come-(if haply 'tis thy week
For looking pale)-with paly cheek;
Though more we love thy roseate days,
When the rich rouge-pot pours its blaze
Full o'er thy face, and, amply spread,
Tips even thy whisker-tops with red-
Like the last tints of dying Day
That o'er some darkling grove delay!

Bring thy best lace, thou gay Phi-
lander!

(That lace, like H-rry Al-x--nd—r,
Too precious to be washed)-thy rings,
Thy seals-in short, thy prettiest
things!

Put all thy wardrobe's glories on,
And yield, in frogs and fringe, to none
But the great R-g-t's self alone!
Who, by particular desire,

For that night only, means to hire
A dress from Romeo C-tes, Esquire
Something between (twere sin to hack
it)

The Romeo robe and Hobby jacket!

This Letter enclosed a Card for the Grand
Fête on the 5th of February.

2 Quem tu, Melpomene, semel
Nascentem placido lumine, videris, etc.
Horat.
The Man, upon whom thou hast deigned to
look funny,

Thou great Tragic Muse! at the hour of his
birth-

Let them say what they will, that's the man for my money,

Give others thy tears, but let me have thy mirth.

The assertion that follows, however, is not verided in the instance before us:

sers

Of Serious Farce both learned Profes

sors

Both circled round, for use or show,
With coxcombs, wheresoe'er they go !
Thou know'st the time, thou man of
lore!

It takes to chalk a ball-room floor-
Thou know'st the time, too, well-a.
It takes to dance that chalk away,3
day!
The ball-room opens-far and nigh
Comets and suns beneath us lie;
O'er snowy moons and stars we walk,
And the floor seems a sky of chalk!
But soon shall fade the bright deceit,
That sparkle in the Lustre's ray,
When many a maid, with busy feet
O'er the white path shall bound and
Like Nymphs along the Milky Way!-
play
At every step a star is fled,

And suns grow dim beneath their
tread!

So passeth life-(thus Sc-tt would
write,

And spinsters read him with delight)—
Time is not chalk, yet time's soon gone!4
Hours are not feet, yet hours trip on,

But, hang this long digressive flight!
I meant to say, thou'lt see, that night

Illum

non equus impiger Curu ducet Achaico.

3 To those who neither go to balls nor read tion that the floors of ball-rooms, in general, are the Morning Post, it may be necessary to menfanciful devices. chalked, for safety and for ornament, with various

Hearts are not flint, yet flints are rent, After all, however, Mr. Sc-tt may well say to Hearts are not steel, yet steel is bent. than the Colonel), paov uwμelobai ʼn μipeiodai. the Colonel (and, indeed, to much better wage

no;

What falsehood rankles in their hearts,
Who say the P―e neglects the arts
Neglects the arts !-no, St-
Thy Cupids answer "tis not so ;"
And every floor, that night, shall tell
How quick thou daubest, and how well!
Shine as hou may'st in French ver-
milion,

Thou'rt best-beneath a French cotil-
lion;

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 assigned by Fate-
While some chefs-d'œuvre live to weary
one,

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Thine boast a short life and a merry one;
Their hour of glory past and gone
With Molly, put the kettle on !'
But, bless my soul! I've scarce a leaf
Of paper left-so, must be brief.

This festive Fête, in fact, will be
The former Fête's facsimile;1
The same long Masquerade of Rooms,
Tricked in such different, quaint cos-

tumes

(These, P-rt-r, are thy glorious
works!)

You'd swear Egyptians, Moors, and
Turks,

Bearing Good-Taste sonie deadly malice,
Had clubbed to raise a Pic-Nic Palace ;
And each, to make the oglio pleasant,
Had sent a State-Room as a present ;--
The same fauteuils and girandoles-
The same gold Asses,2 pretty souls!
That, in this rich and classic dome,
Appear so perfectly at home!
The same bright river 'mongst the
dishes,

But not-ah! not the same dear fishes-
Late hours and claret killed the old

ones!

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 Gudgeons (so V-ns-tt-t told
The R-g-t) are as good as Gold!
So, pr'ythee, come-our Fête will Le
But half a Fête, if wanting thee!

J. T.

APPENDIX.

LETTER IV. Page 294,

AMONG the papers enclosed in Dr. D-g-n-n's Letter, there is 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 very tenderly of the time when they were in Athens-when

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C-rl-t-n H-c will exhibit a complete fac-simile, in respect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Fête. The same splendid draperies,' etc. etc.-Morning Post.

2 The salt-cellars on the P-e's own table were in the form of an ass with panniers.

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