What falsehood rankles in their hearts, Nor need'st thou mourn the transient date But, bless my soul! I've scarce a leaf Of paper left—so, must be brief. This festive Fête, in fact, will be The same bright river 'mong the dishes, (It being rather hard to raise Fish of that specie now-a-days,) Some sprats have been by Y-rm-th's wish, And Gudgeons (so V-ns-tt-t told So, prithee, come-our Fête will be But half a Fête if wanting thee. AMONG the papers enclosed in Dr. D-g-n-n's Letter, was found 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 yung 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 begs by reminding him tenderly of the time, when they were together at Athens-when, as she says, 1 A foreign artist much patronized by the Prince Regent. * The name of a popular country-dance. Crit—a He will exhibit a complete fac-simile, in respect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Fête. The same splendid draperies," &c. &c.-Morning Post. Mr. Walsh Porter, to whose taste was left the furnishing of the rooms of Cariton House. 5 The salt-cellars on the Pr- -e's own table were in the form of an Ass with panniers. • Spanheim attributes the unanimity, with which Joan was elected, to that innate and irresistible charm by which her sex, though latent, operated upon the instinct of the Cardinals" Non vi aliquâ, sed concorditer, omnium in se converso desiderio, quæ sunt blandientis sexus artes, laten tes in hâc quanquam !" "But oh, more dear, more precious ten times over"Farewell my Lord, my Cardinal, my Lover! "I made thee Cardinal-thou mad'st me-ah! "Thou mad'st the Papa of the world Mamma!" I have not time at present to translate any more of this Epistle; but I presume the argument which the Right Hon. Doctor and his friends mean to deduce from it, is (in their usual convincing strain) that Romanists must be unworthy of Emancipation now, because they had a Petticoat Pope in the Ninth Century. Nothing can be more logically clear, and I find that Horace had exactly the same views upon the subject. Romanus (eheu posteri negabitis !) LETTER VII. PAGE 211. THE Manuscript found enclosed in the Bookseller's Letter, turns out to be a Melo-Drama, in two Acts, entitled "The Book," of which the Theatres, of course, had had the refusal, before it was presented to Messrs. L-ck-ngt-n and Co. This rejected Drama, however, possesses considerable merit, and I shall take the liberty of laying a sketch of it before my Readers. The first Act opens in a very awful mannerTime, three o'clock in the morning-Scene, the Bourbon Chamber2 in C-rlt-n House-Enter the P—e R▬g—t solus-After a few broken sentences, he thus exclaims: Away-Away Thou haunt'st my fancy so, thou devilish Book, While turning here, (laying his hand on his heart,) I find, ah wretched elf, Thy List of dire Errata in myself. (Walks the stage in considerable agitation.) Oh Roman Punch! oh potent Curaçoa! Oh Mareschino! Mareschino oh! Delicious drams! why have you not the art To kill this gnawing Book-worm in my heart? He is here interrupted in his Soliloquy by perceiving on the ground some scribbled fragments of paper, which he instantly collects, and "by the light of two magnificent candelabras" discovers the following unconnected words, "Wife neglected"-" the Book"-" Wrong Measures"-" the Queen"—" Mr Lambert"—" the R-g―t." Ha! treason in my house!-Curst words, that wither My princely soul, (shaking the papers violently,) what Demon brought you hither? He here rings all the bells, and a whole legion of valets enter. A scene of cursing and swearing (very much in the German style) ensues, in the course of which messengers are dispatched in different directions, for the L-rd Ch―nc-ll-r, the D-e of C-b-l-d, &c. &c. The intermediate time is filled up by another Soliloquy, at the conclusion of which the aforesaid Personages rush on alarmed; the D-ke with his stays only half-laced, and the Ch-nc-ll-r with his wig thrown hastily over an old red night-cap, " to maintain the becoming splendor of his office." The R-g-t produces the appalling fragments, upon which the Ch-nc-l1-r breaks out into exclamations of loyalty and tenderness, and relates the following portentous dream: "Tis scarcely two hours since I had a fearful dream of thee, my P——————e!— Methought I heard thee, midst a courtly crowd, Say from thy throne of gold, in mandate loud, title into "à tribus impostoribus" would produce a coincidence altogether very remarkable. 2 The same Chamber, doubtless, that was prepared for the reception of the Bourbons at the first Grand Fête, and which was ornamented (all "for the Deliverance of Europe") with 1 There was, in like manner, a mysterious Book, in the 16th Century, which employed all the anxious curiosity of the Learned of that time. Every one spoke of it; many wrote against it; though it does not appear that anybody had ever seen it; and Grotius is of opinion that no such Book ever existed. It was entitled "Liber de tribus impos-fleurs-de-lys. toribus." (See Morhof, Cap. de Libris damnatis.)-Our more modern mystery of " the Book" resembles this in many particulars; and, if the number of Lawyers employed in drawing it up be stated correctly, a slight alteration of the "To enable the individual, who holds the office of Chan cellor, to maintain it in becoming splendor." (A loud laugh.) -Lord CASTLEREAGH'S Speech upon the Vice-Chancellor s Bill. "Worship my whiskers!”—(weeps) not a knee was chiefly upon the Tria and Imprisonment of two there But bent and worshipp'd the Illustrious Pair, Brothers' but as this forms the under plot of the Drama, I shall content myself with extracting Which curl'd in conscious majesty! (pulls out his from it the following speech, which is addressed Of Papers hung—(wipes his eyes) collected in her To tell how gay the young world laughs abroad! veil The venal evidence, the slanderous tale, (Weeps.) Yet go-for thoughts as blessed as the air Of Spring or Summer flowers await you there; Pure self-esteem-the smiles that light within- But, ah! the Evidence-(weeps again) I mourn'd Through prison-bars, its hymn to Liberty! to see Cast, as it burn'd, a deadly light on thee: And Tales and Hints their random sparkle flung, While Post and Courier, faithful to their fame, The Scene next changes to a Tailor's Workshop, and a fancifully-arranged group of these Artists is discovered upon the Shopboard-Their task evidently of a royal nature, from the profusion of goldlace, frogs, &c., that lie about-They all rise and come forward, while one of them sings the following Stanzas to the tune of " Derry Down." My brave brother Tailors, come, straighten your knees, For a moment, like gentlemen, stand up at ease, While I sing of our P―e, (and a fig for his railers,) Derry down, down, down derry down. Some monarchs take roundabout ways into note, While His short cut to fame is the cut of his coat; Here his Lordship weeps more profusely than The Shopboard's delight! the Mecenas of Tailors! ever, and the R-g-, (who has been very much agitated during the recital of the Dream) by a movement as characteristic as that of Charles XII. when he was shot, claps his hands to his whiskers to feel if all be really safe. A Privy Council is held-all the Servants, &c., are examined, and it appears that a Tailor, who had come to measure the R-g-t for a Dress, (which takes three whole But our R-g-t's finds room in a laced button-hole. pages of the best superfine clinquant in describing,) was the only person who had been in the Bourbon Philip's Son thought the World was too small for his Derry down, &c. Chamber during the day. It is, accordingly, Look through all Europe's Kings-those, at least, determined to seize the Tailor, and the Council who go loosebreaks up with a unanimous resolution to be vig- Not a King of them all's such a friend to the Goose, orous. The commencement of the Second Act turns 1 Mr. Leigh Hunt and his brother. So, God keep him increasing in size and renown, still lie luckily in his pocket) being produced, and skilfully laid beside the others, the following billet-doux is the satisfactory result of their juxtaposition. Honored Colonel-my Wife, who's the Queen of Neglected to put up the Book of new Patterns. During the "Derry down" of this last verse, a messenger from the S-c-t-y of Se's Office rushes on, and the singer (who, luckily for the effect of the scene, is the very Tailor suspected of the mysterious fragments) is interrupted in the midst of his laudatory exertions, and hurried away, to the no small surprise and consternation of his They're the same used for poor Mr. Lambert, when comrades. The Plot now hastens rapidly in its development-the management of the Tailor's But, bless you! they wouldn't go half round the examination is highly skilful, and the alarm, which R-g-t It wrong young; dient. he is made to betray, is natural without being So, hope you'll excuse yours till death, most obe. ludicrous. The explanation, too, which he finally gives is not more simple than satisfactory. appears that the said fragments formed part of a self-exculpatory note, which he had intended to send to Colonel M'M-n upon subjects purely professional, and the corresponding bits (which This fully explains the whole mystery-the R-g-t resumes his wonted smiles, and the Drama terminates as usual, to the satisfaction of all parties. SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. ΣΧΟΛΑΖΟΝΤΟΣ ΑΣΧΟΛΙΑ. THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS. A DREAM. "It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it."-Lord CASTLEREAGH's Speech upon Colonel M'Mahon's Appointment, April 14, 1812. LAST night I toss'd and turn'd in bed, I slept as sound as sound could be. Methought the P-e, in whisker'd state, Before me at his breakfast sate; On one site lay unread Petitions, When lo! the Papers, one and all, As though they said, "Our sole design is |