'Tis true the Tyrant screen'd and hid His rogues from justice'-ditto SID. 'Tis true, the Peer is grave and glib At moral speeches-ditto TIB.2 'Tis true, the feats the tyrant did Were in his dotage-ditto SID. So far, I own, the parallel "Twixt TIB. and SID. goes vastly well; But there are points in TIB. that strike My humble mind as much more like Yourself, my dearest Lord, or him Of the India Board-that soul of whim! Like him, TIBERIUS loved his joke,' E. On matters too where few can bear one; g. a man, cut up, or broke Upon the wheel-a devilish fair one! Your common fractures, wounds, and fits, Are nothing to such wholesale wits. But, let the sufferer gasp for life, The joke is then worth any money; And, if he writhe beneath a knife, Oh dear, that's something quite too funny. Your Lordship beats TIBERIUS hollow; Sept. 2. Was thinking, had Lord S-DM-TH got Up any decent kind of plot Against the winter-time-if not, Alas, alas, our ruin's fated; All done up, and spiflicated! Down from C-TL-GH to CASTLES,- What's to be done?-Spa-Fields was clever; Keep ammunition in old stockings; 1 "Neque tamen id Sereno noxæ fuit, quem odium publicum tutiorem faciebat. Nam ut quis districtior accusator velut sacrosanctus erat."-Annal. lib. 4, 36.—Or, as it is translated by Mr. Fudge's friend, Murphy:-"This daring accuser had the curses of the people, and the protection of the Emperor. Informers, in proportion as they rose in guilt, became sacred characters." Nor must the General be a hobbling Go take the Tower, for lack of pence, Heard of the fate of our ambassador In China, and was sorely nettled; Sept. 6. But think, my Lord, we should not pass it o'er And here's the mode occurs to me: As none of our nobility (Though for their own most gracious King Can be persuaded to go through Without some mumming exhibition, GRIMALDI to them on a mission: The "volto sciolto"2 's meritorious, A title for him 's easily made; And, by the by, one Christmas time, Lord MORLEY in some pantomime ;-3 He's brought-and, sure, the very essence Of JOE in the Celestial Presence !- A few small tricks you now shall see. 1 Short boots, so called. 2 The open countenance, recommended by Lord Ches2 Murphy even confers upon one of his speeches the epi- terfield. thet "constitutional." Mr. Fudge might have added to his 3 Mr. Fudge is a little mistaken here. It was not Griparallel, that Tiberius was a good private character:-maldi, but some very inferior performer, who played this egregium vita famique quoad privatus." part of "Lord Morley" in the pantomime, so much to the horror of the distinguished Earl of that name. The expos 3 "Ludibria seriis permiscere solitus." 4 There is one point of resemblance between Tiberius and tulatory letters of the Noble Earl to Mr. H-rr-is, upon this Lord C. which Mr. Fudge might have mentioned-"suspensa semper et obscura verba." vulgar profanation of his spic-and-span-new title, will, I trust, some time or other, be given to the world. And throw such somersets before The picture of King GEORGE (God bless him!) As, should Duke Ho but try them o'er, Would, by CONFUCIUS, much distress him! I start this merely as a hint, But think you'll find some wisdom in 't ; At least, like noble AMH-RST's son, At first I felt hurt, for I wish'd it, I own, If for no other cause than to vex Miss MALONE, "Beginning gay, desperate, dashing down-hilly; Make his bow to some half-dozen women and boys, 'Mong orange-trees, clipp'd into town-bred decorum, And Daphnes, and vases, and many a statue There staring, with not even a stitch on them, at you! The ponds, too, we view'd-stood awhile on the brink To contemplate the play of those pretty gold fishes "Live Bullion," says merciless Bob, "which I think, Would, if coin'd, with a little mint sauce, be delicious!" But what, Dolly, what is the gay orange-grove, her gold fishes, to her that 's in search of her love? In vain did I wildly explore every chair Where a thing like a man was-no lover sat there ! (The great heiress, you know, of Shandangan, who 's At the whiskers, mustachios, and wigs that went past, here, Would be, after all, no such very great catch. If the R-G-T, indeed-" added he, looking sly— (You remember that comical squint of his eye) But I stopp'd him-" La, Pa, how can you say so, When the R-G-T loves none but old women you know!" Which is fact, my dear Dolly-we, girls of eighteen, Since that happy night, when we whisk'd through the air! Let me see 't was on Saturday-yes, Dolly, yesFrom that evening I date the first dawn of my bliss; When we both rattled off in that dear little carriage, Whose journey, Bob says, is so like love and marriage, 1 See Mr. Ellis's account of the Embassy. 2 See Lady Morgan's "France" for the anecdote, told her by Madame de Genlis, of the young gentleman whose love was cured by finding that his mistress wore a shawl "peau de lapin.” To obtain, if I could, but a glance at that curl, And mustachios in plenty, but nothing like his ! (Which you know, Captain Macintosh sung to us one day :) Ah, Dolly! my "spot" was that Saturday night, And its verdure, how fleeting, had wither'd by Sun day! We dined at a tavern-La, what do I say? If Bob was to know!-a Restaurateur's, dear; Where your properest ladies go dine every day, And drink Burgundy out of large tumblers, like beer. Fine Bob (for he 's really grown super-fine) Condescended, for once, to make one of the party; Of course, though but three, we had dinner for nine, And, in spite of my grief, love, I own I ate hearty. 1 The cars, on the return, are dragged up slowly by a chain. 2 For this scrap of knowledge "Pa" was, I suspect, indebted to a note upon Volney's Ruins: a book which usually forms part of a Jacobin's library, and with which Mr. Fudge must have been well acquainted at the time when he wrote his "Down with Kings," etc. The note in Volney is as follows:-" It is by this tuft of hair (on the crown of the head,) worn by the majority of Mussulmans, that the Angel of the Tomb is to take the elect and carry them to Paradise." 3 The young lady, whose memory is not very correct, must allude, I think, to the following lines: Oh! that fairy form is ne'er forgot, Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot On Memory's waste! Indeed, Doll, I know not how 't is, but in grief, |Such a sweet muslin gown, with a flounce-and my I have always found eating a wondrous relief; frills, And Bob, who's in love, said he felt the same quite-You've no notion how rich-(though Pa has by the "My sighs," said he "ceased with the first glass I What with old Lais and Véry, I'm curst If my head or my stomach will ever recover it !" "T was dark when we got to the Boulevards to stroll, And in vain did I look 'mong the street Macaronis, When sudden it struck me-last hope of my soulThat some angel might take the dear man to Tortoni's !! We enter'd-and scarcely had Bob, with an air, A group of fair statues from Greece smiling o'er him,2 As when safe at Tortoni's, o'er iced currant-water! me. bills) And you'd smile had you seen, when we sat rather near, Colonel Calicot eyeing the cambric, my dear. Nota bena-our love to all neighbours about— P. S.--I've just open'd my letter to say, LETTER XI. FROM PHELIM CONNOR TO YES-'t was a cause, as noble and as great A nation's right to speak a nation's voice, But, in short, I felt happy as ever fond heart did; No, sacred Liberty! that God, who throws All tyrants, upstart and legitimate- But, Lord, there's Papa for the post-I'm so vex'd-How well I love thee, and how deeply hate 1 A fashionable café glacier on the Italian Boulevards. I would have follow'd, with quick heart and hand, 1 See Ælian, lib. 5. cap. 29-who tells us that these geese, from a consciousness of their own loquacity, always cross 2 "You eat your ice at Tortoni's," says Mr. Scott, "un-Mount Taurus with stones in their bills, to prevent any under a Grecian group." 3 Not an unusual mistake with foreigners. lucky cackle from betraying them to the eagles-SINTETOUTHI σιωπώντες. N*P*L**ON, NERO-ay, no matter whom- To dash them down again more shatteringly * LETTER XII. * FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MISS DOROTHY For the Colonel, it seems, is a stickler of BONEY's— So martial his features! dear DOLL, you can trace As you do on that pillar of glory and brass1 ""Twas there," said he-not that his words I can 'Twas a gibberish that Cupid alone could translate;But "there," said he (pointing where, small and remote, The dear Hermitage rose,) "there his JULIE he wrote, Upon paper gilt-edged, without blot or erasure; Then sanded it over with silver and azure, do-And-oh, what will genius and fancy not do ?- Well, the morning was lovely-the trees in full dress Tied the leaves up together with nomparielle blue !"'2 Should send his poor brats to the Foundling, my dear! ""Twas here, too, perhaps," Colonel CALICOT said— 5 On the grass an odd dew-drop was glittering yet, 1 Somebody (Fontenelle, I believe,) has said, that if he had his hand full of truths, he would open but one finger at a time; and I find it necessary to use the same sort of reserve with respect to Mr. Phelim Connor's very plainspoken letters. The remainder of this Epistle is so full of unsafe matter-of-fact, that it must, for the present at least, be withheld from the public. 1 The column in the Place Vendôme. 2" Employant pour cela la plus beau papier doré, séchant l'écriture avec de la poudre d'azur et d'argent, et cousant mes cahiers avec de la nompareille bleue."-Les Confessions, Part 2. liv. 9. 3 This word, "exquisite," is evidently a favourite of Miss Fudge's and I understand she was not a little angry when her brother Bob committed a pun on the last two syllables of it in the following couplet: "I'd fain praise your poem-but tell me, how is it, When I cry out "Exquisite," Echo cries "quiz it!" 4 The flower which Rousseau brought into such fashion among the Parisians, by exclaiming one day, "Ah, voila de la pervenche!" 5" Mon ours, voilà votre asyle-et vous, mon ours ne viendrezvous pas aussi ?"-etc. etc. 6 "Un jour, qu'il gelait trés-fort, en ouvrant un paquet qu'elle m'envoyait, je trouvai un petit jupon de flanelle d'Angleterre, qu'elle me marquait avoir porté, et dont elle voulait que je me fisse faire un gilet. Ce soin, plus qu'amical, me parut si tendre, comme si elle se fût dépouillé pour me vêtir, que, dans mon émotion, je baisai vingt fois, er. pleurant, le billet et le jupon." The flannel (one's train of ideas, how odd it is!) The question confused me-for, DOLL, you must He insists upon my going with him--how teazing! Four o'clock. Oh DOLLY, dear DOLLY, I'm ruin'd for ever- And I ought to have told my best friend long ago, My brain 's in a fever-my pulses beat quick But am forc'd, dear, to have VICTORINE, who-deuce I shall die, or, at least, be exceedingly sick! take her! It seems is, at present, the King's mantua-maker Oh what do you think? after all my romancing, I mean of his party-and, though much the smartest,This Colonel-I scarce can commit it to paper LE ROI is condemned as a rank B*n*pa*t*st.2 The Colonel's opinions-my cheeks were quite I stammer'd out something-nay, even half named were. Besides, though the word on good manners intrench, away, And the bliss altogether, the dreams of that day, us, The nothings that then, love, are every thing to us— Ah DOLL, though I know you 've a heart, 'tis in vain O'er the grave of such talents to utter my moans; 1 Miss Biddy's notions of French pronunciation may be perceived in the rhymes which she always selects for "Le This Colonel's no more than a vile linen-draper!! (Ah, little thought I who the shopman would To bespeak me a few of those mouchoirs de poche, love (The most beautiful things-two Napoleons the And one's name in the corner embroider'd so nice!) There he stood, my dear DoLLY-no room for a There, behind the vile counter, these eyes saw him stand, With a piece of French cambric before him roll'd out, And that horrid yard-measure upraised in his hand! Oh-Papa, all along knew the secret, 'tis clear'Twas a shopman he meant by a "Brandenburgh,' dear! The man, whom I fondly had fancied a King, And, when that too delightful illusion was past, But his smiling, alas! could no longer deceive- And, pale as a ghost, I was carried back hither! With cruel facetiousness said-"Curse the Kiddy! A staunch Revolutionist always I've thought him, But now I find out he's a Counter one, BIDDY!" Only think, my dear creature, if this should be known 2 Le Roi, who was the Couturière of the Empress Maria To that saucy, satirical thing, Miss MALONE! Louisa, is at present, of course, out of fashion, and is suc- What a story 't will be at Shandangan for ever! ceeded in her station by the Royalist mantua-maker, Victo- What laughs and what quizzing she'll have with the Roi." |