T u = ^^^* r— 1 = - ~ rn ^ -r. 2 = z- — ^ 2 m < o 1 ^ ^^^^ ^ — — ^ 1 ^ > ^^ -..'•frv,.,^^ y THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ^^•w.^^ ^^m.^'^^^^^ u^ ^.JU» it >.eJU\f<^ THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND; ETC. !'f.isTin Bv BOURGOGNE «sn ilir.TI.NT. 1 , rue c'u Coloiubier, J". THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND; BKI5G A SEQUEL TO THE -FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS." si mea mateiiffi respondet Musa jocosai, Viclmus. , Ovid. BY THOMAS MOORE. PARIS, PUBLISHED BY A. and W. GALIGNAM and C". 1835. PREFACE. The name of the country town, in England— a well-known fashionable watering-place— in which the events that gave rise to the following correspondence occurred, is, for obvious reasons, suppressed. The interest attached, however, to the facts and personages of the story, renders it independent of all time and place ; and when it is recollected that the whole train of romantic circumstances so fully unfolded in these Letters has passed dur- ing the short period which has now elapsed since the great Meet- ings in Exeter Hall, due credit will, it is hoped, be allowed to the Editor for the rapidity with which he has brought the details before the Public ; while, at the same time, any errors that may have been the result of such haste will, he trusts, with equal consideration, be pardoned. 853243 COiMENTS. THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. Letter I. — From Patrick Magan, Esq., to the Rev. Richard , Curate of , in Ireland * LetterII.— From Miss Biddy Fudge, to Mrs. Elisabeth — o LetterIII.— FromMissFanny Fudge, to her Cousin, Miss Kitty «2 Letter IV.— From Patrick Magan, Esq., to tlie Rev. Richard • ^^ Letter V.— From Larry O'Branigan, in England, to his Wife Judy, at MuUinafad 22 Letter VI.— From Miss Biddy Fudge, to Mrs. Eliza- beth 26 Letter VII. — From Miss Fanny Fudge, to her Cousin, Miss Kitty 54 Letter VIII.— From Bob Fudge, Esq., to the Rev. Mor- timer O'MiiIligan 59 Letter IX.— From Larry O'Branigan, to his Wife Judy. 43 Letter X. — From the Rev. Mortimer O'Mulligan, to the Rev. 48 Letter XI. — From Patrick Magan, Esq., to the Rev. Richard. oo TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Song of the Departing Spirit of Tilhe 59 The Euthanasia of Van 65 To the Rev. , one of the Sixteen Requisitionists of Nottingham 64 Irish Antiquities 60 A Curious Fact 67 New-Fashioned Echoes 6S Incantation. From the new tragedy of " The Bruns- wickers." 71 How to make a good Politician 74 Epistle of Condolence, from a Slave-Lord, to a Cotlon- Lord 75 viii COMEKTS. page. The Ghost of Miltiades 77 Alarming Intelligence — Revolution in the Dictionary — One Gait at the head of it 79 Resolulions passed at a late Meeting of Reverends and Right Picverends SO Sir Andrew's Dream 83 Love Song 85 Sunday Ethics 87 Awful Event 88 The Numhering of the Clergy 89 A Sad Case 9\ A Dream of Hindostan 93 Proposals for a Gynoecocracy 93 Lord H-nl-y and St. Cecilia 96 The Dance of Bishops * 99 Dick **++ 102 A corrected Report of some late Speeches 103 The Brunswick Club 105 Advertisement 107 The Mad Tory and the Comet 108 From the Hon. Henry I o Lady Emma . . . . 110 Dublin University 112 Translation from the Gull Language 114 Notions on Reform 116 Tory Pledges 118 St. Jerome on Earth. First Visit 120 — — — — Second Visit 122 The Consultation 124 To the Rev, Ch-rl-s Ov-rt-n, Curate of Romaldkirk . . 126 Scene from a Play, acted at Oxford, called " Matricula- tion." • 128 Late Tithe Case 129 Fools' Paradise 131 The Rector and his Curate ; or One Pound Two . . . 153 Paddy's Metamorphosis 134 Cocker, on Church Reform 155 Les Hommes Automates ... 157 How to make Oneself a Peer 139 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. LETTER I. FROM PATRICK MAGAN, ESQ., TO THE REV. RICHARD , CURATE OF , IN IRELAND. Who d' ye think we' ve got here ? — quite reforin'd from the giddy Fantastic young thing, that once made such a noise — Why, the famous Miss Fudge— that delectahle Biddy, Whom you and I saw once at Paris, when boys, In the full blaze of bonnets, and ribands, and airs,— Such a thing as no rainbow hath colours to paint; Ere time had reduced her to wrinkles and prayers, And the Flirt found a decent retreat in the Saint. Poor "Pa" hath popp'd off— gone, as Charity judges. To some choice Elysium reserved for the Fudges; And Miss, with a fortune, besides expectations From some much-revered and much-palsied relations. Now wants but a husband, with requisites meet,— A^e thirty, or thereabouts — stature six feet, And warranted godly,— to make all complete. Nota bene— a Churchman would suit, if he's high, But Socinians or Catholics need not apply. 2 THE FUDGES IIV EXGLAKD. What say you, Dick? does n't this tempt your ambition? The whole wealth of Fudge, that renown'd man of pith, All brought to the hammer, for Church competition,^ Sole encumbrance, Miss Fudge to be taken therewith. Think, my boy, for a curate how glorious a catch ! While, instead of the thousands of souls you noiv watch, To save Biddy Fudge's is all you need do ; And her purse will, meanwhile, be the saving of you. You may ask, Dick, how comes it that I, a poor elf, Wanting substance ev'n more than your spiritual self, Should thus generously lay my own claims on the shelf, When, God knows! there ne'er was young gentleman yet So much lack'd an old spinster to rid him from debt, Or had cogenter reasons than mine to assail her Willi tender love-suit, — at the suit of his tailor. But thereby there hangs a soft secret, my friend. Which thus to your reverend breast I commend : — Miss Fudge hath a niece— such a creature !— with eyes Like those sparklers that peep out from summer-night skies At astronomers royal, and laugh with delight To see elderly gentlemen spying all night. While her figure — oh, bring all the gracefullesl things That are borne through the light air by feet or by wings, Not a single new grace to that form could they teach, Which combines in itself the perfection of each; While, rapid or slow, as her fairy feet fall, The mute music of symmetry modulates all. In short, ne'er was there creature more form'd to bewilder A gay youth like me, who of castles aerial (And onhj of such) am, God help me! a builder; Still peopling each mansion wUh lodgers ethereal, THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 3 And now, to this nymph of the seraph-Hke eye, Letting out, as you see, ray first floor next the sky. (■) But, alas! nothing's perfect on earth, — even she, This divine httle gipsy, does odd things sometimes; Talks learning— looks wise (rather painful to see), Prints already in two county papers her rhymes; And raves— the sweet, charming, ahsurd little dear ! About Amulets, Bijous, and Keepsakes, next year. In a manner which plainly bad symptoms portends Of that Annual blue fit, so distressing to friends; A fit which, though lasting but one short edition, Leaves the patient long after in sad inanition. However, let 's hope for the best, — and, meanwhile. Be it mine still to bask in the niece's warm smile ; While you, if you 're wise, Dick, will play the gallant (Uphill work, I confess) to her Saint of an Aunt. Think, my boy, for a youngster like you, who 've a lack. Not indeed of rupees, but of all other specie. What luck thus to find a kind witch at your back. An old goose with gold eggs, from all debts to release ye! Never mind, though the spinster be reverend and thin. What are all the Three Graces to her Three per Cents. ? While her acres !— oh Dick, it don't matter one pin How she touches the affections, so you touch the rents; And Love never looks half so pleased as when, bless him, he Sings to an old lady's purse "Open, Sesame." By the way, I 've just heard, in my walks, a report, Which, if true, will ensure for your visit some sport. (') That floor which a facetious garreteer called " Le premier eu pescendant du ciei." 4 THE FUDGES I\ ENGLAIWD. 'T is rumour'd our Manager means to bespeak The Cluirch tumblers from Exeter Hall for next week ; And certainly ne'er did a queerer or rummer set Throw, for the amusement of Christians, a summerset. 'T is fear'd their chief "Merriman," C— ke, cannot come, Being call'd off, at present, to play Punch at home ; (') And the loss of so practised a wag in divinily, Will grieve much all lovers of jokes on the Trinity; — His pun on the name Unigenitus, lately Having pleased Robert Taylor, the Reverend, greatly. (') T will prove a sad drawback, if absent he be, As a wag Presbyterian 's a thing quite to see; And, among the Five Points of the Calvinists, none of 'em E'er thought of making a point of wit one of 'em. But ev'n though deprived of this comical elf, We 've a host ofhuffoni in Murtagh himself, Who, of all the whole troop is chief mummer and mime. As C— ke takes the Gromd Tumbling, he the Sublime; (i) And of him we 're quite certain, so, pray, come in time. (') See the Dublin Evening Post, of the 9th of this month (July), for an account of a scene which lately took place at a meeting of the Synod of Ulster, in which the performance of the above-mentioned part by the personage in question appears to have been worthy of all his former reputation in that line. {=<) "'All are punsters if they have wit to be so; and therefore when an Irislvman has to commence with a Bull, you will naturally pronounce it a bull. (A laugh.) Allow me to bring before you the famous Bull that is called Unigenitus, referriug to the only-begotten Sou of God.' — Report of the Jlev. Doctor's Speech, June 20, in the Record News- paper. (5) In the language of the play-bills, "Ground and Lofty Tum- bling." THE FUDGES KIV ENGLAND. LETTER II. FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MRS. ELIZABETH . Just in time for the post, dear, and monstrously busy, With godly concernments,— and worldly ones, too; Things carnal and spiritual mix'd, my dear Lizzy, In this little brain till, bewilder'd and dizzy, 'Twixt heaven and earth, I scarce know what I do. First, I 've been to see all the gay fashions from town, Which our favourite Miss Gimp for the spring has had down. Sleeves still worn (which I think is wise) a la folle, Charming hats, pou de soie, — though the shape rather droll. But you can't think how nicely the caps oHulle lace. With the mentonnieres, look on this poor sinful face; And I mean, if the Lord in his mercy thinks right. To wear one at Mrs. Fitz-wigrara's to-night. The silks are quite heavenly :— I 'm glad, too, to say. Gimp herself grows more godly and good every day ; Hath had sweet experience —yea, ev'n doth begin To turn from the Gentiles, and put away sin, — And all since her last stock of goods was laid in. What a blessing one's milliner, careless of pelf. Should thus "walk in newness" as well as one's self! So much for the blessings, the comforts of Spirit I 've had since we met, and they 're more than I merit ! — Poor, sinful, weak creature in every respect. Though ordain'd (God knows why) to be one of the Elect. But now for the picture's reverse.— You remember That footman and cook-maid I hired last December ; 6 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. He, a Baptist Particular,— s/te, of some sect Not particular, I fancy, in any respect; But desirous, poor thing, to be fed with the Word, And " to wait," as she said, " on Miss Fudge and the Lord." Well, my dear, of all men, that Particular Baptist At preaching a sermon, off hand, was the aptest; And, long as he staid, to do him justice, more rich in Sweet savours of doctrine, there never was kitchen. He preach 'd in the parlour, he preach'd in the hall. He preach'd to the chambermaids, scullions, and all. All heard with delight his reproviugs of sin, But above all, the cook-maid j — oh, ne'er would she lire, — Though, in learning to save sinful souls from the fire. She would oft let the soles she was frying fall in. (God forgive me for punning on points thus of piety I — A sad trick I 've learn'd in Bob's heathen society.) But ah ! there remains still the worst of my tale; Come, asterisks, and help me the sad truth to veil,— Conscious stars, that at ev'n your own secret turn pale J * * * * ^ * If J^ * ¥■ In short, dear, this preaching and psalm-singing pair. Chosen "vessels of mercy, " as I thought they were, Have together this last week eloped; making bold To whip off as much goods as both vessels could hold, — Not forgetting some scores of sweet Tracts from my shelves, Two Family Bibles as large as themselves. And besides, from the drawer,— I neglecting to lock it— My neat " Morning Manna, done up for the pocket." (') (') ''Morning Manna, or British Verse-book, neatly done >ip for the THE FUDGES IIV EiVGLAND. "J Was there e'er known a case so distressing, dear Liz ? It has made me quite ill :— and the worst of it is, When rogues are all pious, 't is hard to detect Which rogues are the reprobate, which the elect. This man "had a call," he said,— impudent mockery ! What call had he to iiuj linen and crockery? I 'm now, and have been for this week past, in chase Of some godly young couple this pair to replace. The inclosed two announcements have just met my eyes, In that venerable Monthly where Saints advertise For such temporal comforts as this world supplies ; (') And the fruits of the Spirit are properly made An essential in every craft, calling, and trade. pocket," and chiefly intended to assist the members of the British Verse Association, whose design is, we are told, " to induce the inha- bitants of Great Britain and Ireland to commit one and the same verse of Scripture to memory every morning. Already, it is known, several thousand persons in Scotland, besides tens of thousands in America and Africa, are every morning learning the same versed (') The Evangelical Magazine. — A few specimens taken at random from the wrapper of this highly-esteemed periodical will fully justify the character which Miss Fudge has here given of it. " Wanted, in a pious pawn-broker's family, an active lad as an apprentice." " Wanted, as housemaid, a young female who has been brought to a saving knowledge of the truth." " Wanted immediately, a man of decided piety, to assist in the baking business." " A gentleman who under- stands the Wine Trade is desirous of entering into partnership, etc. etc. He is not desirous of being connected with any one whose .system of business is not of the strictest integrity as in the sight of God, and seeks connection only with a truly pious man, either Churchman or Dissenter." S THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND Where the attorney requires for his 'prentice some youth Who lias " learn'd to fear God and to walk in the truth ; " Where the sempstress, in search of employment, declares. That pay is no object, so she can have prayers ; And the Establish'd Wine Company proudly gives out That the whole of the firm, Co, and all, are devout. Happy London ! one feels, as one reads o'er the pages, Where Saints are so much more abundant than sages ; Where Parsons may soon be all laid on the shelf, As each Citcan cite chapter and verse for himself, And the serious frequenters of market and dock All lay in religion as part of their stock, (') Who can tell to what lengths we may go on improving. When thus through all London the Spirit keeps moving, (') According to the late Mr. Irving, there is even a peculiar t'ornn of theology, got up expressly for the money-market. " I know how far wide," he says, " of the mark my views of Christ's work in the flesh will be viewed by those who are working with the stock-jobbing theology of the religious world." " Let these preachers," he adds, " (for I will not call them theologians,) cry up, broker-like, their article." Morning JFatch, N" 3, 442—3. From the statement of another writer, in the same publication, it would appear that the stock-brokers have even set up a new Divinity of their own. " This shows," says the writer in question, " that the doc- trine of the union between Christ and his members is quite as essential as that of substitution, by taking which latter alone the Stock- Exchange DiVmiV/ has been produced " — N" lo, p. 375. Among the ancients, we know the money-market was provided with more than one presiding Deity — " Deae Pecuniffi (says an ancient au- thor) commend'abantur ut pecuniosiessent." THE FUDGES IN EKGLAJVD. 9 And heaven 's so in vogue, that each shop advertisement Is now not so much for the earth as the skies meant ? P.S. Have mislaid the two paragraphs— can't stop to look, But both describe charming, — both footman and cook. She, " decidedly pious " — with pathos deplores The increase of French cookery and sin on our shores ; And adds — (while for further accounts she refers To a great Gospel preacher, a cousin of hers), That " though some make their sabbaths mere matter-of-fun days. She asks but for tea and the Gospel, on Sundays." The footman, too, full of the true saving knowledge, — Has late been to Cambridge, — to Trinity College ; Served last a young gentleman, studying divinity, But left, — not approving the morals of Trinity. P.S. I inclose, too, according to promise, some scraps Of my Journal,— that day-book I keep of my heart ; Where, at some little items (partaking, perhaps, More of earth than of heaven ), thy prudery may start, And suspect something tender, sly girl as thou art. For the present, I 'm mute— but, whate'er may befall, Recollect, dear, in Hebrews, xiii. 4, St. Paul Hath himself declared, "marriage is honourable in all." EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY. Monday. Tried a new chale gown on — pretty ! No one to see me in it — pity ! 10 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAKD. Flew in a passion with Friz, my maid : — The Lord forgive me !— she look'd dismay'd; But got her to sing the 1 00th Psalm, While she curl'd my hair, which made me calm. Nothing so soothes a Christian heart As sacred music — heavenly art ! Tuesday. At two, a visit from Mr. Magan,— A remarkably handsome nice young man ; And, all Hibernian though he be, As civilized, strange to say, as we! I own this young man's spiritual state Hath much engross'd my thoughts of late j And I mean, as soon as my niece is gone, To have some talk with him thereupon. At present, I nought can do or say. But that troublesome child is in the way : Nor is there, I think, a doubt that he Would also her absence much prefer, As oft, while listening intent to me, He 's forced, from politeness, to look at her. Heigho! — what a blessing should Mr. Magan Tura out, after all, a " renew'd" yoimg manj And to me should fall the task, on earth, To assist at the dear youth's second birth. Blest thought ! and, ah, more blest the tie. Were it Heaven's high will, that he and I — But I blush to write the nuptial word, — Should wed, as St. Paul says, "in the Lordj " THE FUDGES IiV ENGLAND. H Not this world's wedlock— gross, gallant, But pure,— as when Ararara married his aunt. Our ages differ — but who would count One's natural sinful life's amount , Or look in the register's vulgar page For a regular twice-born Christian's age, Who, blessed privilege ! only then Begins to live when he's born again. And, counting in this way, — let me see, — I myself but five years old shall be, And dear Magan, when the event takes place. An actual new-born child of grace, — Should Heaven in mercy so dispose, — A six-foot baby, in sivaddling clothes. Wednesday. Finding myself, by some good fate, With Mr. Magan left tHc-a-tete, Had just begun, — having stirr'd the fire, And drawn my chair near his, — to inquire What his nolions were of Original Sin, When that naughty Fanny again bounced in; And all the sweet things I had got to say Of the Flesh and the Devil, were whisk'd away ! Much grieved to observe that Mr. Magan Is actually pleased and amused with Fan! What charms any sensible man can see In a child so foolishly young as she, — But just eighteen, come next aiay-day, With eyes, like herself, full of nothing but play, — Is , I own, an exceeding puzzle to me. 12 THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. LETTER III. FROM MISS FANNY FUDGE TO HEU COUSIN, MISS KITTY . STANZAS (inclosed) TO MY SHADOW; OR , WHY ? — WHAT ? — HOW ? Dark comrade of my path ! while earth and sky Thus wed tlieir c'.iarms, in hridal Hght array'd, Why, in this hrig'nt hour, w^alk'st thou ever nigh. Blackening my footsteps with tliy length of shade — Dark comrade, Why? Thou mimic Shape that, 'mid these flowery scenes, Glidest heside me o'er each sunny spot, Sadd'ning them as thou goest,— say, what means So dark an adjunct to so bright a lot, — Grim goblin, What? Still, as to pluck sweet flowers I bend my brow, Thou bendest, too, — then risest wlien I rise; — Say, mute mysterious Thing ! how is't that thou Thus comest between me and those blessed skies, — Dim shadow, How ? THE FUDGES IX ENGLAND. 13 (ADDITIOiVAL STANZA, BY ANOTHER HAND.) Thus said I to that Shape, far less in grudge Than gloom of soul, while, as I eager cried, Oh why? what? how?— a Voice, that one might judge To be some Irish echo's, faint replied All fudge, fudge, fudge ! You have here, dearest Coz, my last lyric effnsion ; And, with it, that odious "additional stanza," Which Aunt will insist I must keep, as conclusion. And which, you '11 at once see, is Mr. Magan's;— a Mere part of that plot in which he and my Aunt are To stifle the flights of my genius by banter. Just so 't was with Byron's young eagle-eyed strain. Just so did they taunt him;— but vain, critics, vain All your efforts to saddle Wit's fire with a chain ! To l)lot out the splendour of Fancy's young stream. Or crop, in its cradle, her newly-fledged beam !!! Thou perceivest, dear, that, ev'n while these lines I indite , Thoughts burn, brilliant fancies break out, wrong or right. And I 'm all over poet, in Criticism's spite ! That my Aunt, who deals only in Psalms, and regards Messrs. Sternhold and Go. as the first of all bards,— That she should make light of my works I cin't blame ; But that nice, handsome, odious Magan— what a shame ! T)o YOU know, dear, that, high as on most points I rate him, I 'm really afraid— after all, I— must hate him. He is so provoking— nought's safe from his tongue. He spares no one authoress, ancient or young. J4 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. Were you Sappho herself, and in Keepsake or Bijou Once shone as contributor, lord how he 'd quiz you ! He laughs at all Monthlies, — I've actually seen A sneer on his brow at the Court Magazine ! — While of Weeklies, poor things, there 's but one he peruses, And buys every book which that Weekly abuses. But I care not how others such sarcasm may fear, One spirit, at least, will not bend to his sneer; And though tried by the fire, my young genius shall burn as Uninjured as crucified gold in the furnace ! (I suspect the word "crucified" must be made " crucible," Before Ihis fine image of mine is producible. ) And now, dear — to tell you a secret which, pray Only trust to such friends as with safety you may — You know, and, indeed the whole country suspects (Though the editor often my best things rejects). That the verses signed so, Ci^^^ which you now and then see In our County Gazette (vide lust) are by me. But 't is dreadful to think what provoking mistakes The vile country press in one's prosody makes. For you know, dear, — I may, without vanity, hint- Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print; And you can't think what havoc these demons sometimes Choose to make of one's sense, and, what 's worse, of one's rhymes. But a week or two since, in my Ode upon Spring, Which I meant to have made a most beautiful thing, Where I talk'd of the " dewdrops from freshly-blown roses," The nasty things made it " from freshly-blown noses ! " And once when, to please my cross Aunt, I had tried To coramem'rate some saint of her clique, who 'd just died, Having said he "had taken up in heaven his position," They made it, he 'd " taken up to heaven his physician ! " THE FUDGES IIV EXGLASD. 15 This is very disheartening ;— but brighter days shine, I rejoice, love, to say, both for me and the Nine ; For, what do you think ?— so delightful ! next year. Oh, prepare, dearest girl, for the grand news prepare,— I 'm to write in the Keepsake— yes, Kitty, my dear. To write in the Keepsake, as sure as you 're there ! ! T' other night, at a ball, 't was my fortunate chance With a very nice elderly Dandy to dance, Who, 'twas plain, from some hints which I now and thencaught, Was the author of something— one could n't tell what; But his satisfied manner left no room to doubt It was something that Colburn had lately brought out. We conversed of belles-lettres through all the quadrille,— Of poetry, dancing, of prose, standing still ; Talk'd of Intellect's march— whether right 'twas or wrong,— And then settled the point in a bold en avant. In the course of this talk 'twas that, having just hinted That I too had Poems which— long'd to be printed. He protested, kind man ! he had seen, at first sight, I was actually horn in the Keepsake to write. *'In the Annals of England let some," he said "shine, But a place in her Annuals, lady, be thine ! Even now future Keepsakes seem brightly to rise, Through the visa of years, as I gaze on those eyes,— All letter'd and press'd, and of large-paper size ! " How unlike that Magan, who my genius would smother, And how we, true geniuses, find out each other ! This, and much more, he said, with that fine frenzied glance One so rarely now sees, as we slid through the dance; Till between us 't was finally fix'd that, next year, In this exquisite Usk I my pen should engage ; 16 THE FUDGES I!V ENGLAIVD. And, at parting, he stoop'd down and lisp'd in my ear These mystical words, which I could hut just hear, " Terms for rhyme, — if it 's prime, — ten and sixpence per page." Think, Kitty my dear, if I heard his words right, Whatamint oflialf-guineas this small head contains; If for nothing to write is itself a delight, Ye Gods, what a bliss to be paid for one's strains ! Having dropp'd the dear fellow a curtesy profound, Offal once, to inquire all about him, I ran; And from what I could learn, do you know, dear, I 've found That he's quite a new species of literary man; One, whose task is, — to what will not fashion accustom us ? To edit live authors, as if they were posthumous. For instance, — the plan, to be sure, is the oddest ! — If any young he or she author feels modest In venturing abroad, this kind gentleman-usher Lends promptly a hand to the interesting blusher ; Indites a smooth preface, brings merit to light, Which else might, by accident, shrink out of sight, And, in short, renders readers and critics polite. My Auntsays, — though scarce on such points onecan credit her, — He was Lady Jane Thingumbob's last novel's editor. 'T is certain the fashion's hut newly invented ; And, quick as the change of all things and all names is, Who knows Ixit, as authors, like git Is, are preseiiied, We, girls, may be edited soon at St. James's ? ' I must now close my letter— there 's Aunt, in full screech, Wants to take me to hear some great Irvingite preach. God forgive me, I 'm not much inclined, I must say. To go and sit still to be preach'd at, to-day. And, besides— 'twill be all against dancing, no doubt. Which my poor Aunt abhors, with such hatred devout, THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. ll Thai, so far from presenting young nymphs with a head, For I heir skill in the dance, as of Herod is said, She 'dwish (heir own heads in the platter, instead. There, again— coming, Ma'am !— I'll write more, if I can. Before the post goes— Your affectionate Fan. Four o'clock. Such a sermon !— though not about dancing, my dear ; 'T was only on the end of the world being near. Eighteen Hundred and Forty 's the year that some state As the time for that accident,— some Forty Eight : ( ■ ) And I own, of the two, I 'd prefer much the latter, As then I shall be an old maid, and 't won't matter. Once more, love, good bye,— I've to make a new cap; But am now so dead tired with this horrid mishap Of the end of the world, that I must take a nap. LETTER IV. FROM PATRICK MAGAN, ESQ., TO THE REV. RICHARD . He comes from Erin's speechful shore. Like fervid kettle, bubbling o'er (') With regard to the exact time of this event, there appears to he a difference only of about two or three years among the respecUve calculators. M, Alphonse Nicole, Docteur en Droit et Avocat, merely doubts whether h is to be in 1846, or 1847- "A cette epoque," he says, "les fideles peuvent esperer de voir s'effectuer la purification du Sanctuaire." 1. •18 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. With hot effusions, — hot and weak ; Sound, Humbug, all your hollowest drums, He comes, of Erin's martyrdoms To Britain's well-fed Church to speak. Puff him, ye Journals of the Lord, (•) Twin prosers, Watchman and Record ! Journals reserved for realms of bliss, Being much too good to sell in this. Prepare, ye wealthier Saints, your dinners, Ye spinsters, spread your tea and crumpets; And you, ye countless Tracts for Sinners, Blow all your httle penny trumpets. He comes, the reverend man, to tell To all who still the Church's part take, Tales of parsonic woe, that well Might make ev'n grim Dissenter's heart ache : — Of ten whole bishops snatch'd away For ever from the light of day ; ( With God knows, too, how many more, For whom that doom is yet in store ) — Of rectors cruelly compell'd From Bath and Cheltenham to haste home, Because the tithes, by Pat withheld, Will not to Bath or Cheltenham come ; Nor will the flocks consent to pay Their parsons thus to stay away;— Though, with si/c/i parsons, one may doubt If 'tis n't money well laid out; — Of all, in short, and each degree Of that once happy hierarchy, (') "Our anxious desire is to be found on the side of the Lord."- Record Newspaper. THE FUDGES IX ENGLAND. 19 Which used to roll in wealth so pleasantly ; But now, alas, is dooni'd to see Its surplus brought to nonplus presently ! Such are the themes this man of pathos, Priest of prose and lord of bathos, Will preach and preach t'ye, till you 're dull again ! Then, hail him. Saints, with joint acclaim. Shout to the stars his tuneful name. Which Murtagh uas, ere known to fame, But now is Mortimer O'Mulligan ! All true, Dick, true as you 're alive — I 've seen him, some hours since, arrive. Murtagh is come, the great Itinerant, And Tuesday, in the Market-place, Intends, to every saint and sinner in 't. To state what he calls Ireland's Case; Meaning thereby the case oHns shop, — Of curate, vicar, rector, bishop, And all those other grades seraphic, That make men's souls their special traffic, Though seldom minding much which way The erratic souls go, so they pay. Just as some roguish country nurse, Who takes a foundling balie to suckle, First pops the payment in her purse. Then leaves poor dear to — suck its knuckle : Ev'n so these reverend rigmaroles Pocket the money — starve the souls. Murtagh, however, in his glory. Will tell, next week, a different story ; 20 THE FUDGES IW E1VGLAISI>. Will make out all these men of barter, As each a saint, a downright martyr, Brought to the stake — i. e a beef one, Of all their martyrdoms the chief one ; Though try them ev'n at this, they '11 bear it, If tender and v/ash'd down with claret. Meanwhile Miss Fudge, who loves all lions, Your saintly, next to great and high 'uns, ( A Viscount, be he what he may. Would cut a Saint out, any day), Has just announced a godly rout, Where Murtagh 's to be first brought out. And shown in his tame n-eeh-day state :— " Prayers, half-past seven, tea at eight. " Ev'n so the circular missive orders, — Pink cards, with cherubs round the borders. Haste, Dick — you 're lost, if you lose time,— Spinsters at forty-five grow giddy, And Murtiigh, with his tropes sublime, Will surely carry off old Biddy, Unless some spark at once propose, And distance him by downriglit prose. That sick rich squire, whose wealth and lands All pass, they say, to Biddy's bands, ( The patron, Dick, of three fat rectories ! ) Is dying ofcuujina pectoris ; — So thai, unless you 're stirring soon, Murtagh, that priest of puff and pelf, May come in for a honey -moon, And be the man of it himself ! THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 21 As for me, Dick,— 't is wliim, 't is folly, Bui this young niece absorbs me wholly. 'T is true, the girl 's a vile verse-maker,— Would rhyme all nature, if you 'd let her;— But ev'n her oddities, plague take her. But make me love her all the better. Too true it is, she 's bitten sadly With this new rage for rhyming badly, Which late hath seized all ranks and classes, Down to that new Estate, " the masses;" Till one pursuit all tastes combines,— One common rail-road o'er Parnassus, Where, sliding in those tuneful grooves, Call'd couplets, all creation moves, And the whole world runs mad in lines. Add to all (his— wiiai 's ev'n still w^orse. As rhyme itself, though still a curse. Sounds better to a chinking purse, — Scarce sixpence hath my charmer got, While I can muster just a groat ; So that, computing self and Venus, Tenpence would clear the amount between ns. However, things may yet prove better :— Meantime, what awful length of letter ! And how, while heaping thus with gibes The Pegasus of modern scribes. My own small hobby of farrago Ilath beat the pace at which ev'n they go ! 22 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. LETTER V. FROM LARRY O'BRANIGAN, IN ENGLAND, TO HIS WIFE JUDY, AT MULLINAFAD. Dear Judy, I sincl you this bit of a letther, By maii-coacli conveyance, — for want of a betther, — To tell you what kick in this world I have had Since I left the sweet cabin, at Mnllinafad. Och, Judy, that night! — when the pig which we meant To dry-nurse in the parlour, to pay off the rent, Julianna, the crayihur, — that name was the death of her, (') — Gave us the shlip, and we saw the last breath of her ! And there were the childher, six innocent sowls. For their nate little play-fellow tuning up howls ; While yourself, my dear Judy (though grievin 's a folly), Stud over Julianna's remains, melancholy, — Cryin', half for the craythur, and half for the money, " Arrah, why did ye die till we 'd sowl'd you, my honey?" But God's will be done! — and then, faith, sure enough, As the pig wasdesaiced, 't was high time to be off. So we gother'd up all the poor duds we could catch, Lock'd the owld cabin-door, put the kay in the thatch. Then luk lave of each other's sweet lips in the dark. And set off, like the Chrishtians turn'd out of the ark; The six childher with you, my dear Judy, ochone ! And poor I wid myself, left condolin' alone. (■) The Irish peasantry are very fond of giving fine names to their pigs. I have heard of one instance in which a couple of young pigs were named, at tlieir birth, Abelard and Eloisa. THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 23 How I came to this England, o'er say and o'er lands, And what cruel hard walkin' I 've had on my hands, Is, at this present writin', too tadioiis to speak, So I '11 mintion it all in a postscript, next week :— Only starved I was, surely, as thin as a lath, Till I came to an up-and-down place they call Bath, Where, as luck was, I managed to make a meal's meat. By dhraggin' owld ladies all day through the street,— Which their docthors (who pocket, like fun, the pound starlins), Have brought into fashion to plase the owld darlins. Div'l a hoy in all Bath, though I say it, could carry The grannies up hill half so handy as Larry; And the higher they lived, like owld crows, in the air, The more I was wanted to lug them up there. But luck has two handles, dear Judy, they say, And mine has both handles put on the wrong way. For, pondherin', one morn, on a drame I 'd just had Of yourself and the babbies, at Mullinafad, Och, there came o'er my sinses so plasin' a flutther, That I spilt an owld Countess right clane in the gutther, Muff, feathers and all !— the descint was most awful. And,— what was still worse, faith,— I knew 't was unlawful : For, though, with mere women, no very great evil, T' upset an owld Countess in Bath is the divil ! So, liftin' the chair, with herself safe upon it ( For nothin' about her was kilt, but her bonnet), Without even mentionin' " By your lave, ma'am," I tuk to my heels and— here, Judy, I am ! What 's the name of this town I can't say very well, But your heart sure will jump when you hear what befell Your own beautiful Larry, the very fust day, ( And a Sumlay it was, shinin' out mighty gay) 24 THE FUDGES IN EXGLAND. When his brogues to this city of luck found their way. Bein' hungry, God help me, and happenin' to stop. Just to dine on the shmell of a pasthry-cook's shop, I saw, in the window, a large printed paper, And read there a name, och ! that made ray heart caper,— Though printed it was in some quare ABC, That might bother a schoolmasther, let alone me. By gor, you 'dhave laugh'd, Judy, could you 've but listen'd,ji| As, doubtin', I cried, " why it is!— no, it is n't:" But it ims, after all — for, by spellin' quite slow. First I made out " Rev. Mortimer" — then a great " O;" And, at last, by hard readin' and rackin' my skull again. Out it came, nate as imported, " O'MuUigan !" Upljump'd, like a sky-lark, my jew'l, at that name, — Div'l a doubt on my mind, but it must be the same. " Masther Murlhagh himself," says I, " all the world over ! My own fosther-brother — by jinks, I 'm in clover. Though there, in the play-bill, he figures so grand, One wet-nurse it was brought us both up by hand. And he '11 not let me slitarve in the ineray's land !" Well, to make a long hishtory short, niver doubt But I managed, in no time, to find the lad out; And the joy of the nieetin' bethuxl him and me,— Such a pair of owld cumrogues— was charmin' to see. Nor is Murthagh less plased with the evint than I am, As he just then was wanting a vally-de-shara, And, for dressin' a gintleman, one way or t' other. Your nate Irish lad is beyant every other. But now, Judy, comes the quare part of the case; And, in throlh, it 's the only draw-back on my place. THE FUDGES IN EKGLAND. '25 'T was Murthagh's ill luck to be cross'd, as you know, With an awkward mishfortune some short time ago ; That 's to say, he turn'd Protestant, — vJnj, I can't larn ; But, of coorse, he knew best, an' it 's not my consarn. All I know is, we both were good Cath'iics, at nurse, And myself am so still, — nayther betther nor worse. Well, our bargain was all right and tight in a jiffey, And lads more contint never yet left the Liffey, When Murthagh, — or 3Iorthimer, as he's now chrishen'd. His name being convarted, at laist, if he is n't, — Lookin' sly at me (faith, 't was divartin' to see), " Of coorse, you 're a Protestant, Larry," says he. Upon which, says myself, wid a wink just as shly, " Is 't a Protestant ?— oh yes, lam, Sir," says I:— And tliere the chat ended, and div'I a more word Gontrovarsial between us has since then occurr'd. What Murthagh could mane, and, in Ihroth, Judy dear. What I myself meant, does n't seem mighty clear; But the thruth is, though still for the Owld Light a stickler, I was just then too shtarved to be over partic'lar : And, God knows, between us, a comic'ler pair Of twin Protestants could n't be seen any where. Next Tuesday (as towld in the play-bills I raintion'd, Address'd " to the loyal and godly-intintion'd,") His Rivirence, my master, comes forward to preach, — Myself does n't know whether sarmon or speech, But it 's all one to him he 's a dead hand at each ; Like us , Paddys, in gin'ral, whose skill in orations Quite bothers the blarney of all other nations. 26 THE FUDGES IIV ENGL AND. But, whisht! — there 's his Rivirence, shoutin' out " Larry," And sorra a word more will this shmall paper carry j So, here, Judy, ends my short hit of a letther, Wliich, faix, I 'd have made a much higger and betther, But div'l a one Post-office hole in this town Fit to swallow a dacent-sized billy-dux down. So, good luck to the childer !— tell Molly, I love herj Kiss Oonagh's sweet mouth, and kiss Katty all over, — Not forgettin' the mark of the red-currant whiskey She got at the fair when yourself was so frisky. The heav'ns he your bed !— I will write when I can again ; Yours to the world's end, Larry O'Branigan. LETTER VI. FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MRS. ELIZABETH . How I grieve you're not with us!— pray, come, if you can. Ere we're robb'd of this dear oratorical man. Who combines in himself all the multiple glory Of Orangeman, Saint, quondam Papist and Tory;— (Choice mixture ! like that from which, duly confounded, The best sort of brass was, in old limes, compounded)— The sly and the saintly, the worldly and godly, All fused down in brogue so deliciously oddly ! In short, he's a ^/e«r,— and such audiences draws, Such loud peals of laughter and shouts of applause, As can't but do good to the Protestant cause. Poor dear Irish Church !— he to-day sketch'd a view Of her hist'ry and prospects, to me at least new, THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAXD. 27 And which (if it iahes as it ought) must arouse The whole Christian world her just rights to espouse. As to reasoninfj, — you know, dear, that's now of no use, People still will their facts and dry figures produce, As if saving the souls of a Protestant flock were A thing to be managed " according to Cocker!" In vain do we say (when rude radicals hector At paying some thousands a-year to a Rector, In places where Protestants never yet nere), " Who knows hut young Protestants may be born there ? And, granting such accident, think, what a shame. If they did n't And Rector and Clerk when they came ! It is clear that, without such a staff on full pay, These little Church embryos must go astray ; And, while fools are computing what Parsons would cost. Precious souls are meanwhile to the Establishment lost !" In vain do we put the case sensibly thus; They'll still with their figures and facts make a fuss, And ask " if, while all, choosing each his own road, Journey on, as we can, tow'rds the Heav'nly Abode, It is right that sercu. eighths of the trav'Uers should pay For one eighth that goes quite a different way?"— Just as if, foolish people, this was n't, in reality, A proof of the Church's extreme liberality. That, though hating Pop'ry, in o) Think, how horrid, my dear !— so that all's thrown away ; And (what is still worse) for the rum and the rice They 've consmned, while helievers, we saints pay the price. Still 't is cheering to find that we do save a few,— The Report gives six Christians for Cunnangcadoo; Doorkotchum reckons seven, and four Trevandrum, While but one and a half's left at Cooroopadum. In this last-mention'd place 't is the barbers enslave 'em. For, once they turn Christians, dear, nobody '11 shave 'em. (*} To atone for this rather small Heathen amount. Some Papists, turn'd Christians, (■*) are tack'd to the account. (') Of such relapses we find innumerable iustances in the accounts of "the Missionaries. (3) The god Krishna, one of the incarnations of the god Vishnu. ' One day (says the Bhagavata) Krishna's play-fellows complained to Tasuda that he had pilfered and ate their curds." (2) "Roteen wants shaving; but the barber here will not do it. He is run away lest he should be compelled. He says he will not shave Yesoo Kreest's people." — Bapc. Mission. Societj, Vol. ii. p. 493. (<) In the Reports of the Missionaries, the Roman Catholics are almost always classed along with the Heathen. "I have extended my labours (says James Venning, in a Report for i83i), to the Heathen, Maho- medans and Roman Catholics." " The Heathen and Roman Catholics in this neighbourhood (says another missionary for the year iSSa), are not indifferent, but withstand, rather than yield to the force of truth." 32 THE FUDGES IN ElVGLAIVD. And though, to catch Papists, one need n't go so far, Such fish are worth hooking, wherever they are ; And just now, when so great of such converts the lack is. One Papist well caught is worth millions of Blackies. Friday. Last night had a dream so odd and funny I cannot resist recording it here. — Methought that the Genius of Matrimony Before me stood, with a joyous leer, Leading a hushand in each hand And holh for me, which look'd rather queer; — One I could perfectly understand. But why there were two wasn't quite so clear. 'Twas meant, however, I soon could see. To afford me a choice, — a most excellent plan; And — who snould this hrace of candidates be But Messrs. O' Mulligan and Magan : — A thing, I suppose, unheard of till then. To dream, at once, of two Irishmen ! — That handsome Magan, too, with wings on his shoulders' (For all this pass'd in the realms of the Blesl) And quite a creature to dazzle beholders; While even O'MuUigan, feallier'd and drest As an elderly cherub, was looking his best. Ah Liz, you, who know me, scarce can doubt As to which of the two I singled out. But, — awful to tell,— when, all in dread Of losing so bright a vision's charms, I grasp'd at Magan, his imagi^ fled. Like a mist, away, and I found but the head Of O' Mulligan, wings and all, in my arms ' THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 33 The Angel had flown lo some nest divine, And the elderly Cheruh alone was mine ! Heigho !— it is certain that foolish IMagan Either can't or won't see that he might be the man ; A nd, perliaps, dear, — who knows? — if nought belter befall- But— O'IMulligan may be the man, after all. N. B. Next week mean to have my first scriptural rout. For the special discussion of matters devout ; — Like those soirees, at Pow'rscourt, (■) so justly renovvn'd For the zeal with which doctrine and negus went roimd j— (■) An account of these Powerscourt Conversaziones (under the di- rect presidency of Lord Roden), as well as a list of the subjects discussed at the different meetings, may be found in the Christian Herald for the month of December, iSSa. The following is a specimen of the nature of the questions submitted to the company : — Monday Evening, Six o'clock, September 24, i832. — "An examination into the quotations given in the New Testament from the Old, with their connection and explanation, viz: etc. etc." — JFednesdaj. — "Should we expect a per- sonal Antichrist? and to whom wiil he be revealed P'''' etc. etc. — Friday. — " What light does Scripture throw on present events, and their moral character.'* Jf hat is next to be looked for or expected?" etc. The rapid progress made at these tea-parties in settling points of Scripture, may be judged from a paragraph in the account given of one of their evenings, by the Christian Herald: — " On Daniel a good deal of light was thrown, and there was some, I think not so much, perhaps, upon the Revelations, though particular parts of it were discussed with considerable accession of knowledge. There was some very interesting inquiry as to the quotation of the Old Testament in the New; particularly on the point, whether there was 34 THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. Those theology-routs which the pious Lord R-d-n, That pink of Christianity, first set the mode inj Where, blessed down-pouring ! (■) from tea mitil nine, The subjects lay all in the Prophecy line ;— Then, supper— and then, if for topics hard driven, From thence until bed- time to Satan was given; While R-d-n, deep read in each topic and tome, On all subjects (especially the last) was at home. LETTER VII. FROM MISS FANNY FUDGE, TO HER COUSIN, MISS KITTY . IRREGULAR ODE. Bring me the slumbering souls of flowers. While yet, beneath some northern sky, Ungilt by beams, ungemm'd by showers, They wait the breath of summer hours, any 'accommodation,' or whether they were quoted according to the mind of the Spirit in the Old; this gave occasion to some very interesting de- velopment of Scripture. The progress of the Autichristian powers was very fully discussed." (') "About eight o'clock the Lord began to pour down his spirit copiously upon us — for they had all by this time assembled in my room for the purpose of prayer. This down-pouring continued till about ten o'clock." — Letter from Mary Campbell to the Rev. John Campbell, of Row (dated Fernicary, April 4, i83o), giving an accoimt of her "miraculous cure." THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 35 To wake to light each diamond eye, And let loose every florid sigh ! Bring me the first-born ocean waves, From out those deep primeval caves, Where from the dawn of Time they 've lain,— The embryos of a future Main ! — Untaught as yet, young things, to speak The language of their Parent Sea, (Polyphlysbc-ean (') named, in Greek) Though soon, too soon, in bay and creek, Round startled isle and wondering peak, They '11 thunder loud and long as He ! Bring me, from Hecla's iced abode, Young fires I had got, dear, thus far in my Ode, Intending to fill the whole page to the bottom, But, having invoked such a lot of fine things. Flowers, billows and thunderbolts, rainbows ;and wings^ Didn' t know uhat to do with'em, Avhen I had got 'em. The truth is, my thoughts are too full, at this minute, Of past MSS. any new ones to try. This very night's coach brings my destiny in it,— - Decides the great question, to live or to die ! And, whether I 'm henceforth immortal or no. All depends on the answers of Simkins and Co. ! You '11 think, love, I rave, so 't is best to let out The whole secret, at once— I have publish'd a Book ! ! ! (0 If you guess what this word means, 'tis more than / cau : — I but give 't, as I got it from Mr. Magan. F. F. 36 THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. Yes, an actual Book : — if the marvel you doubt, You have only in last Monday' s Courier to look. And you'll find " This day published by Simkins and Co. A Roniaunt, in twelve Cantos, entitled ' Woe, Woe ! ' By Miss Fanny F , known more commonly so C^i^." This I put that my friends may n't be left in the dark, But may guess at my writing by knowing my mark. How I managed, at last, this great deed to achieve, Is itself a "Romaunt" which you'd scarce, dear, believe j Nor can I just now, being all in a whirl, Looking out for the Magnet, (') explain it, dear girl. Suffice it to say, that one half the expense Of this leasehold of fame for long centuries hence, — (Though " God knows," as aunt says, my humble ambition Aspires not beyond a small Second Edition,) — One half the whole cost of the paper and printing, I've managed, this last year, to scrape up, by stinting My own little wants in gloves, ribbons, and shoes. Thus defiauding the toilet to fit out the Bluse ! And who, my dear Kitty, would not do the same? What's eau de Cologne to the sweet breath of fame ? Yards of ribbon soon end, — but the measures of rhyme, Dipp'd in hues of the rainbow, stretch out through all time. Gloves languish and fade away, pair after pair, While couplets shine out, but the brighter for wear. And the dancing-shoe's gloss in an evening is gone, While light-footed lyrics through ages trip on. The remaining expense, trouble, risk,— and alas ! My poor copyright too — into other hands pass ; (') A day coach of that name THE FUDGES IX ENGLAND. A-ml my friend, the Head Dev'l of the " County Gazette ' ( The only Meca^nas I've ever had yet ), He who set up m type my first juvenile lays, Is now set up by them for the rest of his days j And while Gods (as my " Heathen Mythology"says ) Live on nought but ambrosia, his lot how much sweeter To live, lucky dev'l, on a young lady's metre ! As for ])i(f//)i(/,— that first of all lit'rary boons, And essential alike both to bards and balloons ; As, unless well supplied with inflation, 't is found Neither bards nor balloons budge an inch from the ground ;- In this respect, nought could more prosp'rous befall ; As my friend ( for no less this kind imp can I call ) Knows the whole world of critics, dear,— /lypers and all. I suspect, indeed, he himself dabbles in rhyme. Which, for imps diabolic, is not the first time; As I 've heard uncle Bob say, 't was known among Gnostics, That the Dev'l on Two Sticks was a dev'l at Acrostics. But hark! there 's the Magnet just dash'd in from Town- How my heart, Kitty, beats ! I shall surely drop down. That awful Court Journal, Gazette, Athenaeum, All full of my book— I shall sink when I see 'em. And then, the great point— whether Simkins and Co. Are actually pleased with their bargain or no ! Five o'cloch. A 11 's delightful — such praises ! — I really fear That this poor little head will turn giddy, my dear. I 've but time now to send you two exquisite scraps,— All the rest by the Magnet, on Monday, perhaps. 38 THE FUDGES IIV EXGLAIVD. FROM THE " MORMNG POST." 'T is known that a certain distinguish'd physician Prescrihes, (or cUjspei)sia, a course of Hght reading; And Rhymes hy young Ladies, the first, fresh edition (Ere critics have injured tlieir powers of nutrition), Are, he thinks, for weak stomachs, the best sort of feeding. Satires irritate— love-songs are found calorific; But smooth female sonnets he deems a specific. And, if taken at bed-time, a sure soporific. Among works of this kind, the most pleasing we know, Is a volume just publish'd by Sirakins and Co., Where all such ingredients, — the flowery, the sweet, And the gently narcotic, — are mix'd per receipt, With a hand so judicious, we 've no hesitation To say that— 'hove all, for the young generation, — 'Tis an elegant, soothing and safe preparation. Nota bene— for readers,whose object 's to sleep, And who read, in their night-caps, the publishers keep Good fire-proof binding, which comes very cheap. ANECDOTE— FROM THE " COURT JOURNAL." T'other night, at the Countess of * * * 's rout, An amusing event was much whisper'd about. It was said that Lord , at the Council, that day. Had, more than once, jump'd from his seal, like a rocket, And flow n to a corner, where, heedless, they say, How the country's resources were squander'd away. He kept reading some papers he 'd brought in his pocket. Some thought them dispatches fiom Spain, or the Turk, Others sw'ore they brought word we had lost the Mauritius; But it turn'd out 'I was only Miss Fudge's new work, Which his Lordship devour'd with such zeal expeditious. — THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 39 Messrs. Sirnkins and Co. to avoid all delay Having sent it in sheets, that his Lordship might say, He had distanced the whole reading world by a day ! LETTER VIII. FROM BOB FUDGE, ESQ., TO THE REV. MORTIMER O'MULLIGAN. Tuesday Evening. I MDCH regret, dear Reverend Sir, I conld not come to * * * to meet yoii ; Bnt this curst gout won't let me stir, — Ev'n now I but by proxy greet you ; As this vile scrawl, whate'er its sense is, Owes all to an amanuensis. Most other scourges of disease Reduce men to extremities, — But gout won't leave one even these. From all my sister writes, I see That you and I will quite agree. I 'm a plain man, who speak the truth, And trust you '11 think me not uncivil. When I declare that, from my youth, I 've wish'd your country at the devil .- Nor can I doubt, indeed, from all I 've heard of your high patriot fame, — From every word your lips let fall, — That you most truly wish the same. It plagues one's life out — thirty years Have I had dinning in my ears. 40 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. ^'Ireland wants this, and that, and t' othei" And, to this hour, one nothing hears But the same vile eternal bother. While of those countless things she wanted, Thank God, but little, has been granted, Andev'n that little if we 're men And Britons, we 'II have back again ! I really think that Catholic question Was what brought on my indigestion ; And still each year, as Popery's curse Has gather'd round us, I 've got worse ; Till ev'n my pint of Port a-day Can't keep the Pope and bile away. And whereas, till the Catholic pill, I never wanted draught or pill, The settling of that cursed question Has quite unsettled my digestion. Look what has happen'd since — the Elect Of all the bores of every sect, The chosen triers of men's patience. From all the Three Denominations, Pour'd in upon us, — even Quakers, Turn'd into speechers and law-makers. Who '11 move no question, stiff-rump'd elves, Till first the Spirit moves themselves; And whose shrill Yeas and Nays, in chorus. Conquering our Ays and Nos sonorous, Will soon to death's own slumber snore us. Then, too, those Jews !— I really sicken To think of such abomination; Fellows, who won't eat ham with chicken, To legislate for this great nation!— THE FUDGES IN ENGLAKD. 41 Depend upon 't, when once they 've sway, With rich old Goldsmid at the head o' them, The Excise laws will be done away. And Circumcise ones pass'd instead o' them ! In short, dear Sir, look where one will. Things all go on so devilish ill, That, 'pon my soul, I rather fear Our reverend Rector may be right. Who tells me the Millennium 's near ; Nay, swears he knows the very year, And regulates his leases by 'tj — Meaning their terms should end, no doubt. Before the world's own lease is out. He thinks, too, tliat the whole thing 's ended So much more soon than was intended, Purely to scourge those men of sin Who brought the accurst Reform Bill in. (') However, let 's not yet despair j Though Toryism 's eclipsed, at present. And, — like myself, in this old chair, — Sits in a state by no means pleasant j Feet crippled, — hands, in luckless hour, Disabled of their grasping power ; And all that rampant glee, which revell'd In this world's sweets, be-duU'd, bedevil'd, — (•) This appears to have been the opinion also of an eloquent writer in the Morning Watch. " One great object of Christ's second Advent, as the Man and as the King of the Jews, is to punish the Kings who do not acknowledge that their authority is derived from him, and who submit to receive it from that many-headed monster, the mob. — No. 10. p. 373. 2. 42 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND Yet, though condemn'd to frisk no more, And hoth in Chair of Penance set, There 's something tells me, all 's not o'er With Toryism or Bobhy yet; That though, between us, I allow We 've not a leg to stand on now; Though curst Reform and coJchicum Have made us hoth look deuced glum, Yet still, in spile of Grote and Gout, Again we '11 shine triumphant out! Yes— back again shall come, egad. Our turn for sport, my reverend lad. And then, O'MuUigan, — oh tiien, When mounted on our nags again, You, on your high-flown Rosinante, Bedizen'd out, like Show-Gallante,— Glitter great from substance scanty; — While I, Bob Fudge, Esquire, shall ride Your faithful Sancho, by your side; Then, — talk of tilts and tournaments! Dam'me, we'll 'Squire Fudge's clerk presents To Reverend Sir his compliments ; Is grieved to say an accident Has just occurr'd which will prevent The Squire,— though now a little better,— From finishing this present letter. Just when he'd got to "Dam'me, we'll " His Honour, full of martial zeal, THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. 43 Grasp'd at his crutch, but not being able To keep his balance or his hold, Tumbled, both self and crutch, and roll'd Like ball and bat, beneath the table. All 's safe,— the table, chair, and crutch j— Nothing, thank God, is broken much, But the Squire's head, which, in the fall, Got bump'd considerably— that's all. At this no great alarm we feel. As the Squire's head can bear a deal. Wednesday Morniny. Squire much the same— head rather light,— Raved about " Barbers' Wigs" all night. Our house-keeper, old Mrs. Griggs, Suspects that he meant "Barbarous Whigs." LETTER IX. FROM LARRY o'bRANIGAN TO HIS WIFE JUDY. As it was but last week that I sint you a letther, You '11 wondher, dear Judy, what this is about; And, throlh, it 's a letther myself would like betiiier, Could I manage to lave the contints of it out ; For sure, if it makes even me onaisy. Who takes things quiet, 't will drhive you crazy. /i4 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. Oh Judy, lliat riverine! Muilhagh, bad scran to liim ! That ev'r I should come to 'vebeen sarvant-man to him, Or so far demane the O'Bs aiiigan blood, And my Annts, the Diluvians (whom not ev'n the Flood Was able to wash away clane from the earth) (•) As to sarve one whose name, of mere yestherday's birth, Can no more to a great O, before it, purtend, Than mine can to wear a great Q at its end. But that 's now all over — last night I gev warnin'. And, masthr as he is, will discharge liini this mornin'. The thief of the world! — but it's no use balraggin'; (^) — All I know is, I 'd lifiy limes rather bedragin' Ould ladies up hiil to the ind of my days, Than w ith Miirtliagh to rowl in a chaise at my aise. And lie forced to discind thro' the same dirty ways. Arrah, sure, if 1 'd heerd where lie last show'd his phyz, I 'd have known what a qiiare sort of monsther he is ; For, by gor, 't was at Exether Change, sure enough, That himself and his other wild Irish show'd off j And it 's pity, so 'i is, that tliey had n't got no man Who knew the w-ild crathursto act as their showman, — Sayin' '* Ladies and Ginllemen, plaze to take notice, How shiim and how shieek this black animal's coat is; All by raison, we 're lowld, that the naUiur o' th' baste Is to change its coal once in its life-time, at lasie; (■) "I am of your Palru'idis, I, a branch of one of your antediluvian iamilies, — fLllows (hat the Flood could not wash away." — Congreve, Love for Love. (») To balrag is to abuse. Mr. Lover makes it ballyrag, and he is high authority : but il" I rvuicmbLr rightly, Curran in his national stories, used to employ the word as above. — See Lover's most amusing and genuinely Irish work, the "Legends and Stories of Ireland." THE FUDGES IX ENGLAND. h5 And such objiks, in our coiinthry, not bein' common ones, Are bought up, as this was, by way of Fuie Nomenons. In regard of its Jiame,— why, in throth, I 'm consarn'd To differ on this point so much with the larn'd, Wlio call it a ' Morthimer,' whereas tlie craythur Is plainly a ' Murthjigh,' by name and by nathur." This is howl 'd have towid them the rights of it all, Had I been their showman at Exether Hall,— Not forgettin' that other great wondher of Airin, (Of th' owld bitther breed which they call Prosbelairin,) The famed Daddy C— ke— who, by gor, I 'd have shown' em As proof how such bastes may be tamed, wiien you 've thrown 'em A good frindly sop of tlie rale Rairjin Donem. (■) But, throth, I 've no laisure just now, Judy dear, For any thing, barrin' our own doings here, And the cursiii' and damniin' and tluind'rin', lick mad, We Papists, God help us. from Murthagh have had. He says we 're all murtherers — div'l a bit less, — And that even our priests, wlien Ave go to confess. Give us lessons in murth'rin, and wish us success ! When ax'd how he dared, by tongue or by pen, To belie, in this way, seven millions of men, Faith, he said, 't was all lowld him by Docthor Den ! («) "And who the div'l 's he?"' was the question that flew From Chrishtian to Chrishlian— but not a sowl knew. (') Larry evidently means the Regium Donum; — a sum contributed by the government annually to the support of the Presbyterian churches in Ireland. (^) Correctly, Dens,— Larry not being very parliculai' in his nomen- clature. '«6 THE FUDGES IN EIVGLAIVD. While on went Murthagh, in iiigant style, Blaspheming us Cath'lics all the while, As a pack of desaivers, parjurers, villians, All the whole kit of ihe aforesaid millions, (■) — Yourself, dear Judy, as well as the rest. And the innocent craythur that 's at your breast, All rogues together, in word and deed, Owld Den our insthructor and Sin our creed ! When ax'd for his proofs again and again, Div'l an answer he 'd give hut Docthor Den. Gould n't he call into coort some livin' men? "No, thank you" — he 'd stick to Docthor Den,— An ould gintleman dead a century or two. Who all about us, live Cath'lics, knew ; And of coorse was more handy, to call in a huriy, Than Docthor Mac Hale or Docthor Murray ! But, throth, it 's no case to be jokin' upon, Though myself, from bad habits, is makin' it one. And yourself, had you wilness'd his grand clymaclhrics. Which actially threw one owld maid in hysterics, Or, och ! liad you heerd such a purty remark as his, That Papists are only " Humanity's carcasses, Ris'n" — but, by dad, I 'm afeardi can't give it ye,— "Ris'n from the sepulchre of— inactivity ; (') "The deeds of darkness which are reduced to horrid practice over the drunken debauch of the midnight assassin, are debated, iu principle, in the sober morning religious conferences of the priests." — Speech of the Rev. Mr. M^Gkee. "The character of the Irish people generally is, that they are given to lying and to acts of theft." — Speech of the Rev, Robert Daly. THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. Ul And, like owUl corpses, dug up from antikitij, Wandrin about in all sorts of inikitij !!" (') Even you, Judy, true as you are to the Owld Light, Would have laugh'd, out and out, at this iliganl flight, Of that figure of speech called the Blather umskite. As for me, though a funny thought now and then came to me, Rage got the betther at last,— and small blame to me ! So, slapping my thigh, " by the Powers of Delf," Says I boldly, "I '11 make an oration myself." And with that up I jumps,— but, my darlint, the minit I cock'd up my head, div'l a sinse remain'd in it. Though, suited, I could have got beautiful on, When I tuk to my legs, faith, the gab Avas all gone :— Which was odd for us, Pals, who, whale'er we 've a hand in, At lasle in our legs show good stinong undherstandhi'. Howsumdever, detarmin'd the chaps should parsaive What I thought of their doin's, before I tuk lave, " In regard of all that," says I— there I stopp'd short— Sorra a word more would come, though I shtruggled hard for't. So, shnapping my fingers at what 's call'd the Chair, And the owld Lord (or Lady, I b'lieve) that sat there,— " In regard of ah that," says I bowldly again,— ■ '' To owld Nick I pitch Mortimer— oud Doclhor Den;—" Upon which the whole company cried out, " Amen ;" (') But she (Popery) is no longer the tenant of the sepulchre of in- actmty. She has come from the burial-place, walking forth a monster, as if the spirit of evil had corrupted the carcass of her departed huma- nity; noxious and noisome, an object of abhorrence and dismay to all who are not leagued with her in iniquity,'''' — Report of the Rev. Gentleman's Speech, June 20th, in the Record Newspaper. We may well ask, after reading this and other such Reverend ravings, "Quis dubilat quiu omne sit hoc rationis egestas .^" iS THE FUDGES IN ENGLAMD. And myself was in hopes 't was to what I had said, But, by gor, no such ihing, — they were not so well bred ; For, 't was all to a pray'r Murlhagh just had read ou!, By Vvay of fit finish to job S) devout ; That is, — afther well damning one half the community, To pray God to k^ep all in pace an' in unity! This is all I can shtuff in this letther, though plinty Of news, faith, I 've goi to fill more— if 't was twinty. But I '11 add, on the outside, a line, should I need it, (Wrilin' "Private" upon it, that no one may read it,) To tell you how Mortimer (as the Saints chrishten him) Bears the big shame of his sarvant's dismisshin' him. {Private outside.) Just come from his Riv'rence — the job is all done — By the powers, I 've discharged him as sure as a gun ! And now, Judy dear, what on earth I 'm to do With myself and my appeiite, — both good as new, — Without ev'n a single traneen in my pocket, Let alone a good dacent pound-starlin', to stock it^ Is a mysht'ry I lave to the One that 's above, Who lakes care of us, dissolute sovvls, when hard dhrove ! LETTER X. FROM THE REV. MORTIMER o'MULLIGAN TO THE REV. . These few brief lines, my reverend friend, By a safe private hand I send, (Fearing lest some low Catholic wag, Should pry into the Letter-bag), THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. &9 To tell you, far as pen can dare, How we, poor errant martyrs, fare; — Martyrs, not quite to fire and rack. As Saints were, some few ages back, But, — scarce less trying, in its way, — To laughter, wheresoe'er we stray ; To jokes, which Providence mysterious Permits on men and things so serious, Lowering the Church still more each minute, And — injuring our preferment in it. Just think, how wearing out, my friend, To have, where'er our footsteps bend, Small jokes, like squibs, around us whizzing ; And bear the eternal torturing play Of that great engine of our day, Unknown to the Inquisition, — quizzing ! Your men of thumb-screws and of racks Aimed at the hodij their attacks; But modern torturers, more refined, Work their machinery on the mind. Had St. Sebastian had the luck With me to be a godly rover. Instead of arrows, he 'd be stuck With stings of ridicule all over; And poor St. Lawrence, who was kill'd By being on a gridir'n grill'd. Had he but shared my errant lot, Instead of grill on gridir'n hot, A moral roasting would have got. Nor should I, trying as all this is. Much heed the suffering or the shame, — As, like an actor, used to hisses, 5 50 THE FUDGES IIV E\GLAND. I long have known no other fame, But tliat (as I may own to you. Though to the uorld it would not do ), No hope appears of fortune's beams Shining on amj of ray schemes; No chance of something more per ami. As supplement to K— Uym — n ; No prospect that, by fierce abuse Of Ireland, I shall e'er induce The rulers of this thinking nation To rid us of Emancipation; To forge anew the sever'd chain, And bring back Penal Laws again. Ah happy time ! when wolves and priests Alike were hunted, as wild beasts ; And five pounds was the price, jJer head, For bagging either, live or dead ; (•)— Though oft, we 're told, one outlaw'd brother Saved cost, by eating up the other. Wise state of things! when sons were bribed With their sires' wealth ; and one profest Conformist, of a rsce proscribed, Had power to beggar all the rest! (') («) "Among other amiable enactments against the Catholics at tin's period (1649% the price orfive pounds was set on the head ot a Romish priest,— beini; exactly the same sum offered by the same legislators for the head of a wolf." — Memoirs of Captain Rock, book i. chap. 10. {') "By Uie laws now in force in this kingdom, a son, however undu- tihil and profligate, shall not merely, by the merit of conforming to the estaBisRed religion, deprive the Roman Catholic father of the free THE FUDGES IK ElVGLAND. 51 Then, then, indeed, good converts brought A price that set all shame at nought, Nay, made it glory to be bought. Ah, how unlike the paltry pay We fetch in this degenerate day ! A poor small rectory all our lot, — If zealous, laugh'd at, and, if not. Scored off as " paid for," and forgot ! Yes, all 's now o'er— I see too plain Those good times ne'er can come again. Our very progress here betrays That we are fall'n on thankless days. So dull are thought our "yarns" devout, Not Kenyon's self can sit them out ; (■) Nor ev'n that Saint, Lord Mandevilk-, Gulp down such endless length of pill. and full possession of his estate, the power to mortgage, etc. elc., but shall himself have full liberty immediately to mortgage, or other- wise alienate, the reversion of that estate from his family for ever." Address presented by the Catholics in 1775. (>) Lord Kenyon — "A previous engagement renders it necessary for me to depart at four o'clock; — that hour has now arrived, and I must leave. I would therefore suggest to the meeting that my noble friend Lord Mandeville do take the chair." The motion that Lord Mandeville should lake the chair was agreed to; but it appeared that the noble Viscount had left the platform a short time before. Lerd Kenyon then said, "I am informed that my friend Lord Mandeville has left the platform ; I will therefore move that Mr. Finch do take the chair." — Report oj the Proceedings, June 20th, in the Record Newspaper. 52 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. So that, at last, — so dire our pinch, Wlien tluisall decent cliairraen flinch, — We 're forced to take to Mr. F — nch ! Then, too, they tell us, with what zeal All England throbs to our appeal : But, why (if the interest so intense is) Why do n't they pay the room's expenses? (') When Kenyon begg'd, in our behalf. He raised — not money, but a laugh! 'T is true, they flock to us, as a show, — As men dug up (dead long ago), A sort of strolling Corpse and Co. ( Like those old carcasses that lately I set upon their legs so stately ) All Doctor Dens' contemporaries, And quoting still his dead vagaries, 'Mong living thinking men, who stare To see such resurrections there, (') Several touching appeals have been made to the public on this point, and Lord Kenyon, at the close of the second day's proceedings, said, "I hope tbe meeting will permit me to remind them, that very considerable expense has been incurred by the deputation and the committee. There will be a collection made at the door, in order to defray those expenses , and I trust that those who are able will contri- bute liberally." From the following complaint, however, in the Record (July 9th), it appears that the noble Lord's appeal was unavaiUng : " We have to remark that the contributions at the doors at the last meeting at Exeter Hall by no means defrayed the expenses, which are somewbal heavy (40/. is charged for the room alone), and we may be excused for requesting our readers to exercise a little more liberality ai the approaching meeting on Saturday." THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. 53 And hear a dead dull Doctor's thought As witness of live feelings brought ! While ev'n the Church, in whose defence We 've drawn the oraloric blade, Dreads the uplifted eloquence, And shudders at such perilous aid, — " Foes I can brave," she shrinking cries, " But save me from my dear Allies." Finding thus all those schemes and hopes I built upon my flowers and tropes All scatter'd, one by one, away, As flashy and unsound as they, The question comes— what 's to be done ? And there 's but one course left me, — one. Heroes, when tired of war's alarms. Seek sweet repose in Beauty's arms, The weary Day-God's last retreat is The breast of silv'ry-footed Thetis; And mine, as mighty Love 's my judge, Shall be the arms of rich Miss Fudge ! 'S^ Start not, my friend,— the tender scheme, Wild and romantic though it seem, Beyond a parson's fondest dream, Yet shines, too, with those golden dyes, So pleasing to a parson's eyes, — That only gildiug which the Muse Cannot around her sons diffuse; — Which, whencesoever flows its bliss. From wealthy Miss or benefice. To Mortimer indiff'rent is. So he can only make it his. 54 THE FUDGES IN ElVGLAKD. There is but one slight damp I see Upon this scheme's felicity, And that is, the fair lieroine's claim That I shall take her family name. To this (though it may look henpeck'd), I can't quite decently object, Having myself long chosen (o shine Conspicuous in the alias (■) line; So that lienceforth, Ijy wife's decree, ( For Biddy from tliis point won't budge) Your old friend's new address must be The Rev. Mortimer O'FiuUje,— Tiie " O " being kept, that all may see We're both of ancient family. Such, friend, nor need the fact amaze you, My public life's calm Euthanasia. Thus bid I long farewell to all The freaks of Exeter's old Hall,— Freaks, in grimace, its apes exceeding, And rivalling its bears in breeding. Farewell, the platform fill'd with preachers,— The pray'r given out, as grace, {') by speechers, (■) In the first edition of his Dictionary, Doctor Johnson very sit;ni- l'i(aully exemplified the meaning of the word "alias" by the instance ot" Mallet, the poet, who had exchanged for this more refined name liis original Scotch patronymic, Malloch. "What other prook he gave (says Johnson) of disrespect to his native country, I know not; but it was remarked of him that he was the only Scot whom Scotchmen did not commend." — Li/e of Mallet. (') "I think I am acting in unison with the feelings of a Meeting assembled for lliis solemn object, when I call on the Rev. Doctor Hol- lowav to open it i)V prayer." — Speech of Lord Kenjon. THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND 55 Ere they cat up their fellow-creatures: Farewell to dead old Dens's volumes, And, scarce less dead, old Standard's columns :— From each and all I now retire, — My task, henceforth, as spouse and sire, To bring up little filial Fudges, To be M. P. 's, and Peers, and Judges,— Parsons I 'd add, too, if alas ! There yet were hope the Church could pass The gulf now oped for her's and her, Or long survive what Exeter, — Both Hall and Bishop, of that name, — Have done to sink her reverend name. Adieu, dear friend, — you '11 oft hear from me, Now I 'm no more a travelling drudge; Meanwhile I sign ( that you may judge How well the surname will become me ) Yours truly, Mortimer O'Fudgk. LETTER XT. FROM PATRICK MAGAN, ESQ., TO THE REV. RIGHARU , Ireland. Dear Dick — just arrived at my own humble gite. I inclose you, post-hasle, the account, all complete. Just arrived, ^jer express, of our late noble feat. 56 THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. [ Extract from the " County Gazette." ] " This place is gelling gay and full again. + + + + Last week was married, ' in the Lord, ' The Reverend Mortimer O'Mulligan, Preacher, in Irish, of the Word (He, who the Lord's force lately led on, Exeter Hall his Ari>io(//)-geddon), (') To Miss B. Fudge, of Pisgah Place, One of the chos'n, as ' heir of grace,' And likewise heiress of Phil. Fudge, Esquire, defunct, of Orange Lodge. " " Same evening. Miss F. Fudge, 'tis hinted,— Niece of the ahove ( whose ' Sylvan Lyre,' In our Gazette, last week, we printed ), Eloped with Pat. Magan, Esquire. The fugitives were track'd, some time, After they 'd left the Aunt's abode. By scraps of paper, scrawl'd with rhyme. Found strew'd along the Western road; Some of Ihem ci-devant curl-papers. Others half burnt in lighting tapers. This clue, however, to their flight. After some miles was seen no more ; And from inquiries made last night, We find they 've reach'd the Irish shore. " («) The rectory which the Rev. gentleman holds is situated in the county oi Armagh ! — -a most remarkable coincidence, — and well worthy of the attention of certain expounders of the Apocalypse. THE FUDGES IIV ENGLAND. 57 Every word of it true, Dick,— the escape from Aunt's llirall,— Western road,— lyric fragments,— curl-papers and all. My sole stipulation, ere link'd at the shrine ( As some balance between Fanny's numbers and mine ), Was that, when we were one, she must give up the Nine : Nay, devote to the Gods her whole stock of MS. With a vow never more against prose to transgress. This she did, like a heroine ; — smack went to bits The whole produce sublime of her dear little wits,— Sonnets, elegies, epigrams, odes, canzonets, — Some twisted up neatly, to form allumettes, Some turn'd into papillotes, worthy to rise And enwreathe Berenice's bright locks in the skies ! While the rest, honest Larry (who's now in my pay ) Begg'd, as " lover oipo'thry" to read on the way. Having thus of life's poetry dared to dispose. How we now , Dick, shall manage to get through its prose, With such slender materials for style. Heaven knows ! But— I'm call'd off abruptly — anot/ier Express ! What the deuce can it mean? — I 'm alarm'd, I confess. P.S. Hurra, Dick, hurra, Dick, ten thousand hurras ! I 'm a happy ricli dog to the end of my days. There,— read the good news, — and while glad, for my sake, That Wealth should thus follow in Love's shining wake, Admire also the moral, that he, the sly elf. Who has fudged all the world, should be now fudged himself! 5S THE FUDGES IN EKGLAND . EXTRACT FROM LETTER IXCLOSED. ' ' With pain the mournful news I write, Miss Fudge's uncle died last night ; And much to mine and friends' surprise, By will doth all his wealth devise,— Lands, dwellings, — rectories likewise, — To his ' beloved grand-niece,' Miss Fanny, Leaving Miss Fudge herself, who many Long years hath waited,— not a penny ! Have notified the same to latter, And wait instructions in the matter. For self and partners, etc. etc. ' TRIFLES, REPRINTED. [The Author avails himself of the opportunity which this publication affords, to form a collection of all such trifles as he has, from time to time, published, since the appearance of his last miscellaneous volume, — entitled, "Odes upon Cash, Corn, Catholics, etc." In that volume, and in the following pages, are to be found, with but very few excep- tions, all the delinquencies, in this way, for which his pen is answer- able.] SONG OF THE DEPARTING' SPIRIT OF TITHE. " The parting genius is with sighing sent. " — Milton. It is o'er, it is o'er, my reigii is o'er; I hear a Voice, from shore to shore, From Dunfanaghy to Baltimore, And it saith, in sad, parsonic tone, " Great Tithe, — and Small, — are dead and gone ! " Even now, I behold your vanishing wings, Ye Tenths of all conceivable things Which Adam first, as Doctors deem. Saw, in a sort of night-mare dream, (■) (') A reverend prebendary of Hereford, in an Essay on the Revenues oftheChHrch of England, has assigned the origin of Tilhes to *' some unrecorded revelation made to Adam." ^" TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. After the feast of fruit abhorr'd,— First indigestion on record !— Ye decimate ducks, ye chosen chicks, Ye pigs which, though ye be Catholics, Or of Calvin's most select depraved. In tiie Church must have your bacon saved ;— Ye fields, where Labour counts his sheaves,' And, whatsoever himself believes Must bow to the Establisli'd Church belief, That the tenth is always a Protestant sheaf;- Ye calves, of which the man of Heaven Takes Irish tithe, one calf in seven j (.) Ye tenths of rape, hemp, barley, flax, Eggs, (=) timber, milk, fish, and bees' wax ; All things, in short, since earth's creation, ' Doom'd, by the Church's dispensation. To suffer eternal decimation,— Leaving the whole ?ay-world, since then, Reduced to nine parts out of ten; Or,— as we calculate thefts and arsons,— Just ten per cent, the worse for Parsons ! Alas, and is all this wise device For the saving of souls thus gone in a trice ?— (') " The tenth calf is due to the parson of commou righl; and if there are seven, he shall have om:^ - BeesS Cjclopa-dia, Art " Tithes:' (0 Chaucer's Plowman complains of the parish rectors, that "For the lilhingof aduck; Or an apple, or an aye (egg), They make him swear upon a boke; Thus they foulen Christ's fay." TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. 61 The whole put down, in the simplest way, By the souls resolving not to pay ! And even the Papists, thankless race, Who have had so much the easiest case, — To pay for our sermons doom'd, 't is true, But not condemn'd to hear them, too, — (Our holy business being, 'tis known. With the ears of their barley, not iheir own). Even they object to let us pillage, By right divine, their tenth of tillage, And, horror of horrors, even decline To find us in sacramental wine! (') It is o'er, it is o'er, my reign is o'er, Ah, never shall rosy Rector more. Like the shepherds of Israel, idly eat. And make of his flock " a prey and meat." (') No more shall be his the pastoral sport Of suing his flock in the Bishop's Court, Through various steps, Citation, Libel, — Scriptures all, but not the Bible ; Working the law's whole apparatus, To get at a few pre-doom'd potatoes. And summoning all the powers of wig, To settle the fraction of a pig ! — Till, parson and all committed deep In the case of " Shepherds versus Sheep," (•) Among the specimens laid before Parliament of the sort of Church- rates levied upon Catholics in Ireland, was a charge of two pipes of port for sacramental wine. (') Ezekiel xxxiv .8. — "Neither shall the shepherds feed themselves any more ; for I will deliver my flock from their month, that they may not he meat for them." — V. lo. 62 TRIFLES. REPRIKTED. The Law usurps the Gospel's place. And, on Sundays, meeting face to face, While Plaintiff fills the preacher's station, Defendants form the congregation. So lives he, Mammon's priest, not Heaven's, For tenths thus all at sixes and sevens, Seeking what parsons love no less Than tragic poets — a good distress. Instead of studying St. Augustin, Gregory Nyss., or old St. Justin, (Rooks fit only to hoard dust in,) His reverence stints his evening readings To learn'd Reports of Tithe Proceedings, Sipping, the while, that port so ruddy, Which forms his only ancient study; — Port so old, you 'd swear its tartar Was of the age of Justin Martyr, And, had the Saint sipp'd such, no doubt His martyrdom would have been — to gou!. Is all then lost ? — alas, too true, — Ye Tenths beloved, adieu, adieu ! My reign is o'er, my reign is o'er, — Like old Thumb's ghost, "I can no more." TRIFLES. REPRINTED. 63 THE EUTHANASIA OF VAN. " We are told that the bigots are growiug old and fast wearing out. If it be so, why not let us die in peace ? " Lord Bexley's Letter to the Freeholders of Kent. Stop, Intellect, iu mercy slop, Ye curst improvements, cease ; And let poor Nick V — ns— It— t drop Into his grave in peace. Hide, Knowledge, hide thy rising sun, Young Freedom, veil thy head ; Let nothing good be thought or done. Till Nick V— ns— tt— t's dead ! Take pily on a dotard s fears, Who much doth light detest ; And let his last few drivelling years Be dark as were the rest. You, too, ye fleeting one-pound notes. Speed not so fast away— Ye rags, on which old Nicky gloats, A few months longer stay. (■) Together S'.ion, or much I err. You hoih from life may go,— The notes unto the scavenger. And Nick— to Nick below. (') Piriluis parcere chart*. 64 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Ye Liberals, whate'er your plan, Be all reforms suspended ; In compliment to dear old Van, Let nothing bad be mended. Ye Papists, whom oppression wrings, Your cry politely cease, And fret your hearts to fiddle-strings That Van may die in peace. So shall he win a fame sublime By few old rag-men gain'd ; Since all shall own, in iNicky's time, Nor sense, nor justice reign'd. So shall his name through ages past, And dolls ungotten yet, Date from " the days of Nicholas," With fond and sad regret ; — And sighing say, "alas, had he Been spared from Pluto's bowers, The blessed reign of Bigotry And Rags might still be ours ! " TO THE REVEREND . ONE OF THE SIXTEEN REQUISITIONISTS OF NOTTINGHAM. What, you, too, my * * 't- * * * in hashes so knowing, Of sauces and soups Aristarchus profest! Are tjou, too, my savoury Brunswicker, going To make an old fool of yourself with the rest ? TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 65 Far better to stick to your kitchen receipts ; And iisometlwHj to tease you must have, for variety, Go study how Ude, in his " Cookery," treats Live eels, when he wants them for polisli'd society. Just snuggling them in, 'twixl the bars of the fire, He leaves them to wriggle and writhe on the coals, (■) In a manner that H— r— r himself would admire. And wish, 'stead of eels, they were Catholic souls. Ude tells us, the fish little suffering feels; While Papists, of late, have more sensitive grown ; So, take my advice, try your hand at live eels. And, for once, let the other poor devils alone. I have ev'n a still better receipt for your cook, — How to make a goose die of confirm'd hepatitis; (') And, if you '11, for once, f(P//o it-feelings o'erlook, A well-tortured goose a most capital sight is. First, catch him, alive,— make a good steady fire,— Set your victim before it, both legs being tied, (As,— if left to himself,— he might wish to retire), And place a large bowl of rich cream by his side. There roasting by inches, dry, fever'd, and faint, Having drunk all the cream, you so civilly laid, off, He dies of as charming a liver complaint As ever sleek parson could wish a pie made of. (■) The only way. Monsieur Ude assures us, to get rid of the oil so objectionable in this fish. (») A liver complaint. The process by which the livers of geese are enlarged for the famous Pa(es de foie (Toie. 6G TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Besides, only think-, my dear one of Sixteen, What an emblem this bird, for the epicure's use meant, Presents of the mode in which Ireland has been Made a tid-bit for yours and your brethren's amusement : Tied down to the slake, while her limbs, as they quiver, A slow fire of tyranny wastes by degrees : Wo wonder disease should liave swell'd up her liver. No wonder you, gounnands, should love her disease. IRISH ANTIQUITIES. AccoiiDiiNG to some learn'd opinions, The Irish once were Carthaginians ; But, trusting to more late descriptions, I 'd rather say they were Egyptians. My reason 's this : — the Priests of Isis, When forth they march'd in long array, Employ'd, 'mong other grave devices, A Sacred Ass to lead the way; (■) And still the antiquarian traces 'Mong Irish Lords this Pagan plan. For still, in all religious cases, They put Lord R— d — n in the van. (■) To this practice the ancient adage alludes, " Asinus portans mys- teria. TRIFLES, REPRIXTED. 67 A CURIOUS FACT. The present Lord K — ny— n (Ihe Peer ulio writes letters. For which the waste-paper folks much are his debtors) Hath one little oddity, well worth reciting, Which puzzleth observers, even more than his writing. Whenever Lord K — ny— n doth chance to behold A cold Apple-pie — mind, the pie must be cold — IJis Lordship looks solemn (few people know why), And he makes a low bow to the said apple-pie. This idolatrous act, in so " vital" a Peer, Is, by most serious Protestants, thought rather queer, — Pie-worship, they hold, coming under the head {Vide Chrustium, chap, iv.) of the Worchip of Bread. Some think 't is a tribute, as author, he owes For the senice that pie-crust hath done to his prose; — 'Jlie only good things in his pages, they swear, P>eing those that the pastry-cook sometimes puts there. Others say, 't is an homage, through pie-crust convey'd. To our Glorious Deliverer's niuch-hoiiour'd shade ; As that Protestant Hero (or Saint, if you please) Was as fond of cold pie as he was of green peas, (>) And 't is solely in loyal remembrance of that, My Lord K — ny — n to apple-pie takes off his hat. While others account for this kind salutation By what Tony Lumpkin calls " concatenation " — (') See the anecdote, which the Duchess of Marlborough relates iu lier Memoirs, of this polite hero appropriating to himself one day, at dinner, a whole dish of green peas, — the first of the season, — whilr the poor Pi-iucess Anne, who was then in a longing condition, sal h%, vainly cutreating with lier eyes, for a share. i TRIFLES, REPRIKTED. A certain good-will that, from sympathy's ties, 'Twixt old Apple-women and Orcuuje-men lies. But 't is needless to add, these are all vague surmises. For thus, we 're assured, the whole matter arises : Lord K — ny — n's respected old father (like many Respected old fathers) was fond of a penny ; And loved so lo save, (') that— there 's not the least queslion- His death w^as brought on by a bad indigestion, From cold apple-pie-crust his Lordship would stuff in, At breakfast, to save the expense of hot muffin. Hence it is, and hence only, that cold apple-pies Are beheld by his Heir with such reverent eyes- Just as honest King Stephen his beaver might doff To the fishes that carried his kind uncle off, — And while filial piety urges so many on, 'T is pure apple-pie-ely moves my Lord K — ny — n. NEW-FASHIONED ECHOES. Sir, Most of your readers are, no doubt, acquainted with the anecdote told of a certain not over-wise judge, who, when in the act of delivering a charge in some country court-house, was interrupted by the braying of an ass at the door. " What noise is that?" asked the angry judge. " Only an extraordinary echo there is in court, my Lord," answered one of the counsel. As there are a number of such " extraordinary echoes" abroad (■) The same prudent propensity characterizes his descendant, who (as is well known) would not even go to the expense of a diphthong on his father's monument, but had the inscription spelled, economically, thus : — " Mors j'anua vita," TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 69 just now, you will not, perhaps, be unwilling, Mr. Editor, to receive the following few lines suggested by them. Yours, etc., Hue coeamus, (») ait; nullique libentius unquam Responsura sono, Coeamus, retulit echo. — Ovid. There are echoes, we know, of all sorts, From the echo, that " dies in the dale," To the " airy-tongued babbler," that sports Up the tide of the torrent her " tale. " There are echoes that bore us, like Blues, With the latest smart mot they have heard ; There are echoes, extremely like shrew^s, Letting— nobody have the last word. In the bogs of old Paddy-land, too. Certain " talented " echoes (») there dwell. Who, on being ask'd " How do you do?" PoUtely reply, " Pretty well." But why should I talk any more Of such old-fashion'd echoes as these, When Britain has new ones in store. That transcend them by many degrees ? For, of all repercussions of sound, Concerning which bards make a pother. There 's none like that happy rebound When one blockhead echoes another ; — (■) "Let us form Clubs." (') Commonly called " Paddy Blake's Echoes." '0 TRIFLES, REPP.I'VTED When K— ny— n coinniences tlie bray, And the Borough-Duke follows his track, While loudly from Dublin's sweet bay, R— thd— ne brays, with interest, back ! And while, of most echoes the s<3und On our ear by reflection doth fall, These Brunswickers pass the bray round, Without any reflection at all. Oh Scott, were I gifted like you. Who can name all the echoes there are From Benvoirlich lo bold Ben-venue, From Beuledi to wild Uamvar ; I might track, through each hard Irish name, The rebounds of this asinine strain, Till from Neddy to Neddy, it came To the chief Neddy K— ny— n, again ; Might tell how it roar'd in R— thd— ne, How from D— ws — n it died off genteelly,— How hollow it rung from the crown Of the fat-pated Marquis of E— y ; How, on hearing my Lord of G e, Thistle-eaters, the stoutest, gave way. Outdone, in their own special line. By the forty-ass power of Ids bray ! But, no, — for so humble a bard 'T is a subject too trying to touch on; Such noblemen's names are too hard, And their noddles too soft to dwell much on. TRIFLES. REPRIXTED 71 Oh Echo, sweet nymph of the hill. Of the dell, and tlie deep sounding shelves; If, in spite of Narcissus, you still Take to fools who are charm'd with themselves, Who knows but, some morning retiring To walk by the Trent's wooded side, You may meet v\ith N— wc — stie, admiring His own lengthen'd ears in the tide ! Or on into Canibria straying, Find K— ny— n, that double-tongued elf, In his love of «ss-cendencv, bravinii; A Brunswick dtiet with himself! INCANTATION. FROM THE KEW TRAGEDY OF " THE BRIJXSWICKERS." SCENE. — Penenden Plain. lit, the middle, a caldron boiluifj. Thunder. — Enter three Brunsii'ickers. I St. Bruns. — Thrice hath scribbling K — ny — n scrawl'd, 2,-/. Bjufis.— Once hath fool N — wc— stle bawl'd, 3'/. BruHS.— B— xl— y snores :— 't is time, 't is time, ■\st. Bruns. — Round about the caldron go; In the pois'nous nonsense throw. Bigot spite, that long hath grown Like a toad within a stone. Sweltering in the heart of S— tt, Boil we in the Brunswick pot. All. — Dribble, dribble, nonsense dribble, Eld— n, talk, and K— ny— n, scribble. "32 TRIFLES. REPRIIVTED. 2d. Bntjjs.— Slaver from N— wc— stle's quill In Ihe noisome mess dislil, Brimming high our Brunswick broth Both with venom and with froth. Mix the brains (though apt to hash ill. Being scant) of Lord M — ntc — shel, With that malty stuff which C s Drivels as no other man does. Catch (i , e. if catch you can) One idea, spick and span, From my Lord of S y. One idea though it be Smaller than the " happy flea," AVhich his sire, in sonnet terse. Wedded to immortal verse. (■) Though to rob the son is sin, Put his one idea in; And, to keep it company, Let that conjuror W — nch — Is— a Drop but /ta/f another there. If he hath so much to spare. (') Alluding to a well-known lyric composition of the late Marquis, which, n ith a slight alteration, might be addressed either to a flea or a fly. For instance : — " Oh, happy, happy, happy fly. If I were you, or you were I." Or, Oh, happy, happy, happy flea, If I were you, or you were me; But since, alas! that cannot be, I must remain Lord S y. TRIFLES, REPRIIMTED. 73 Dreams of murders and of arsons, Hatch'd in heads of Irish parsons, Bring from every hole and corner, Where ferocious priesls, Ul\e H — n — r. Purely for religious good, Cry aloud for Papists' blood, — Blood for W— lis, and such old women, At their ease to wade and swim in. AU. — Dribble, dribi)le, nonsense dribble, B — xl — y, talk, and K — ny — n, scribble. 3d. Brims. — Now the charm begin to brew; Sisters, sisters, add thereto Scraps of L — thbr— dge's old speeches, Mix'd with leather from his breeches. Rinsings of old B— xl— y's brains, Thicken'd (if you '11 take the pains) With that pulp which rags create, In their middle, nympha state, Ere, like insects frail and sunny, Forth they wing abroad as money. There — the Hell-broth we 've enchanted— Now but oue thing more is wanted. Squeeze o'er all that Orange juice, — — — keeps cork'd for use, Which, to work the better spell, is Colour'd deep with blood of , Blood of powers far more various Ev'n than that of Januarius, Since so great a charm hangs o'er i England's parsons bow before it ! All. — Dribble, dribble, nonsense dribble, B— xl— y talk, and K— ny— n, scribble. 2d. Brujis.— Cool ii now with 's blood. So the charm is firm and good. [Exeunt. 4 74 TRIFLES, REPRINTED HOW TO MAKE A GOOD POLITICIAN. "Whene'er you're in doubt, said a Sage I once knew, 'Twixt two lines of conduct ivhich course to pursue, Ask a woman's advice, and, whate'er she advise. Do the very reverse, and you 're sure to be wise. Of the same use as guides are the Brunswicker throng ; In their thoughts, words, and deeds, so instinctively wrong. That, whatever they counsel, act, talk, or indite, Take the opposite course, and you 're sure to be right. So golden this rule, that, had nature denied you The use of that finger-post. Reason, to guide you,— Were you even more doltish than any given man is. More soft than N— wc— slle— more twaddling than Van is, I 'd stake my repute, on the following conditions, To make you the soundest of sound politicians. Place yourself near the skirts of some high-flying Tory,— Some Brunswicker parson, of port-drinking glory,— Watch well how he dines, during any great Question,— What makes him feed gaily, what spoils his digestion, — And always feel sure that /ns joy o'er a stew Portends a clear case of dyspepsia to you. Read him backwards, like Hebrew— whatever he wishes. Or praises, note down as absurd or pernicious, Like the folks of a weather-house, shifting about. When he 's out, be an J»— when he 's in, be an Out. Keep him always reversed in your thoughts, night and day. Like an Irish barometer turn'd the wrong way : — If he 's up, you may swear that foul weather is nigh ; If he 's down, you may look for a bit of blue sky. TRIFLES, REPRIXTED 75 Never mind what debaters or journalists say, Only ask what he thinks, and then think t'other way. Does he hate the Small-note Bill ? then firmly rely The Small-note Bill 's a blessing, though you don't know why. Is Brougham his aversion? then Harry 's your man. Does he quake at O'Connell ? take doubly to Dan. Is he all for the Turks? then at once take the whole Russian Empire (Czar, Cossacks, and all) to your soul. In short, whalsoever he talks, thinks, or is, Be your thoughts, words, and essence the contrast of his. Nay, as Siamese ladies — at least, the polite ones — All paint their teeth black, 'cause the devil has white ones— If ev'n, by the chances of time or of tide, Your Tory, for once, should have sense on his side, Even inen stand aloof,— for, be sure that Old Nick, When a Tory talks sensibly, means you some trick. Such my recipe is, — and, in one single verse, I shall now, in conclusion, its substance rehearse. Be all that a Brunswicker is not, nor could be, And then — you 'II be all that an honest man should be. EPISTLE OF CONDOLENCE, FROM A SLAVE-LORD TO A COTTON-LORD. Alas ! my dear friend, what a state of affairs ! How unjustly we both are despoil'd of our rights ! Not a pound of black flesh shall I leave to my heirs, Nor must you any more work to death little whites. 76 TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED . Both forced to submit to that general controller Of King, Lords, and cotton-mills— Pnhlic Opinion, No more shall you beat with a big billy-roller, Nor / with the cart-whi[) assert my dominion. Whereas, were we snffer'd to do as we please With our Blacks and our Whites, as of yore we were let. We might range them alternate, like harpsichord keys, And between us thnmp out a good piebald duet. But this fun is all over; — farewell to the zest Which Slavery now lends to each tea-cup we sip ; Which makes still the cruellest coffee the best, And that sugar the sweetest which smacks of the whip. Farewell, too, the Factory's white picaninnies, — Small living machines, which, if tlogg'd to their tasks, Mix so well with their namesakes, the " Billies" and" Jennies," Thsitivhich have got souls in 'em nobody asks; — Little Maids of the Mill, who, themselves but ill-fed. Are obliged, 'niong their other benevolent cares, To " keep feeding the scribblers," (■) — and better, 't is said. Than old Blackwood or Fraser have ever fed theirs. All this is now o'er, aiid so dismal «iy loss is. So hard 't is to part from the smack of the thong, That I mean (from [)ure love for the old whipping process) To lake to whipt syllabub all my life long. (») One of the operations in collon-mills usually performed by children. TRIFLES, REPRIATED. 77 THE GHOST OF MILTIADES.(') Ah quoties dubius Scriptis exarsit amalor ! — Ovid. The Ghost of Miltiades came at night, And he stood by the bed of the Benthamite, And lie said, in a voice that thrill'd the frame, " If ever the sound of Marathon's name Hath fired thy blood or fliish'd tliy brow. Lover of Liberty, rouse thee now !" The Benthamite, yawning, left his bed — Away to the Stock Exchange he sped. And he found the Scrip of Greece so high, That it fired his bluod, it flush'd his eye. And oh, 't was a sight for the Ghost to see, For never was Greek more Greek than he ! And still as the premium higher went. His ecstasy rose — so much jjer ceni. (As we see in a glass, that tells the weather. The heat and the silver rise together). And Liberty sang from the patriot's lip. While a voice from his pocket whisper'd "Scrip !" The Ghost of Miltiades came again ; — He smiled, as the pale moon smiles through rain, For his soul was glad at that patriot strain ; (And poor, dear ghost — how little he knew The jobs and the tricks of the Philhellene crew !) (i) These verses, whieli appeared at a much earlier period than any oF the others in this volume, were (for a reason which now no longer exists) omitted in the former collection, entitled, "Cash, Corn, and Catholics." 7S TRIFLES, REPRINTED. " Blessings and thanks ! " was all he said, Then, melting away, like a night-dream, fled ' The Benthamite hears — amazed that ghosts Could be such fools — and away he posts, A patriot still ? Ah no, ah no — Goddess of Freedom, thy Scrip is low, And, warm and fond as thy lovers are, Thou triest their passion when under par. The Benthamite's ardour fast decays, By turns he weeps, and swears, and prays. And wishes the d — 1 had Crescent and Cross, Ere he had been forced to sell at a loss. They quote him the Slock of various nations, But, spite of his classic associations, Lord, how he loathes the Greek quotations ! " Who '11 buy my Scrip ? Who '11 buy my Scrip ?" Is now the theme of the patriot's lip, As he runs to tell how hard his lot is To Messrs. Orlando and Luriottis, And says, " Oh Greece, for Liberty's sake, Do buy my Scrip, and I vow to break Those dark unholy bonds of Ihine — If you '11 only consent to buy up mine!" The Ghost of Milliades came once more; — His brow, like the night, was lowering o'er. And he said, with a look that flash'd dismay, " Of Liberty's foes the worst are they. Who turn to a trade her cause divine. And gamble for gold on Freedoui's shrine!" Thus saying, the Ghost, as he took his flight, Gave a Parthian kick to the Benthamite, Which sent him, whimpering, off to Jerry — And vanish 'd away to the Stygian ferry ! TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. 79 ALARMING LXTELLIGENCE-REVOLUTION IN THE DICTIONARY -ONE GALT AT THE HEAD OF IT. God preserve us!— there's nothing now safe from assault;— Thrones toppling around, churches hroughl to the hammer; And accounts have just reach'd us that one Mr. Gait Has declared open war against English and Grammar ! He had long heen suspected of some such design, And, the better his wicked intentions t' arrive at. Had lately 'mong C— lb— n's troops of ) a' clad Like shawmen, behind 'em, would mak the mon mad,-^" But he 's nae sic a noodle, our Andie Agnew. (') Servants in livery. 88 TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. If Lairds an' fine Ladies, on Sunday, think right To gang to tiie deevil,— as niaist o' em do, — To stop them our Andie would tliink na polite; And 't is odds (if the chiel could get ony thing by 't) But he'd follow 'em, booing, (■) would Andrew Agnew. AWFUL EVENT. Yes, W— nch— Is— a (I tremble while I pen it), W— nch— Is-a's Earl liath cut the British Senate,— Hath said to England's Peers, in accent gruff, "77)«t for ye all," [snapping his fingers], and exit, in a huff: Disastrous news!— like that, of old, which spread From shore to shore, "our mighty Pan is dead," O'er the cross benches (cross from being crost) Sounds the loud wail, "Our W— nch— Is— a is lost ! '' Which of ye. Lords, that heard him, can forget The deep impression of that awful threat, " I quit your house ! ! "—'midst all that histories tell, I know but one event that 's parallel :— It chanced at Drury Lane, one Easter night. When the gay gods, too blest to be polite, Gods at their ease, like those of learn'd Lucretius, Laugh'd, whistled, groan'd' uproariously facetious,— A well-dress'd member of the middle gallery. Whose "ears polite" disdain'd such low canaillerie. Rose in his place — so grand, you 'd almost swear Lord W— nch— is— a himself stood towering there,— ( ■ ) For the " gude effects and uteelity of booing," see the ^ian of the ' World. I TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 89 And, like that Lord of dignity and, nous, Said, "Silence, fellows, or I Ml leave the house! ! " How brook'd the Gods this speech? Ah, well-a-day, That speech so fine should he so tlirown away ! In vain did this mid-gallery grandee Assert his own two-shilling dignity,— In vain he menaced to withdraw tlie ray Of his own full price countenance away,— Fun against Dignity is fearful odds, And as the Lords laugh now, so giggled then the Gods! THE NUMBERING OF THE CLERGY. PARODY ON SIR CHARLES HAN. WILLIAMS's FAMOUS ODE, " Come, Cloe, and give me sweet kisses." " We want more Churches and more Clergymen." Bishop of London's late Charge. " Rectorum numerum, terris pereuntiljus, augent." Clan di an in Eutrop. Come, give us more Livings and J\ectors, For, richer no realm ever gave; But why, ye unchristian ohjectors, Do ye ask us how many we crave? (■) (') Come, Cloe, and give me sweet kisses, For sweeter sure never girl gave; But why, in the midst of my blisses, Do you ask me how many I d have ? 90 TRIFLES. REPRIJVTED. Oil, there can't be too many rich Livings For souls of tlie Phirahst kind, Who, despising old Cocker's misgivings, To numbers can ne'er be confined. (■) Count the cormorants hovering about, (=) At the time their fish season sets in, When these models of keen diners-out Are preparing their beaks to begin. Count the rooks that, in clerical dresses, Flock round when the harvest 's in play, And, not minding the farmer's distresses, Like devils in grain peck away. Go, number the locusts in heaven, (3) On their way to some litheable shore; And when so many Parsons you 've given, We still shall be craving for more. (■) For whilst I love thee above measin'e, To numbers I 'II ne'er be confined. (') Count the bees that on Hybla are playing, Count the Qowers that enamel its fields. Count the flocks, etc. (5) Go number the stars in the heaven, Count how many sands on the shore ; When so many kisses you 've given^ I still shall be craving for more. TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 91 Then, unless ye (he Church would submerge, ye Must leave us in peace lo augment; For the wretch who could number the Clergy, With few will be ever content. (■) A SAD CASE. •' If il be the undergraduate season at which this rabies religiosa is lo be so fearful, what security has Mr. Goulburn against it at this moment, when his son is actually exposed to the full venom of an association with Dissenters?" — The Times, March 25. How sad a case!— just think of it— If G — lb— n junior should be bit By some insane Dissenter, roaming Through Granta's halls, at large and foaminj^ And with that aspect, ultra crabbed, Which marks Dissenters when they 're rabid! God only knows what mischiefs might Result from this one single bite, Or how the venom, once suck'd in. Might spread and rage through kith and kin. Mad folks, of all denominations. First turn upon their own relations : So that one G— lb— n, fairly bit, Might end in maddening the whole kit, Till, ah, ye gods, we 'd have to rue Our G— lb— n senior bitten too; (') But the wretch who can number his kisses, With few will be ever content. 92 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. The Hycl)iirch phobia in those veins, Where Tory blood now redly reigns; And that dear man, who now perceives Salvation only in lawn sleeves, Might, tainted by such coarse infection, Run mad in the opposite direction, And think, poor man, 't is only given To linsey-woolsey to reach Heaven ! Just fancy what a shock 't would be Our G-Ib — n in his fits to see. Tearing into a thousand particles His once-loved Nine and Thirty Articles; (Those Articles his friend, the Duke, (') For Gospel, t' other night, mistook); Cursing cathedrals, deans, and singers,— Wishing the ropes might hang the ringers, — Pelting the church with blasphemies. Even worse than Parson B— v — rl— y's; — And ripe for severing Church and State, Like any creedless reprobate, Or like that class of Methodists Prince Waterloo styles "Atheists!" But 't is too much,— the Muse turns pale. And o'er the picliae drops a veil. Praying, God save the G — lb— rns all From mad Dissenters, great and small ! (•) The Duke of Wellington, who styled them " the Articles of Christianity.' TRIFLES, REPRINTED 93 A DREAM OF HINDOSTAN. risuin teneatis, amici. " The longer one lives, the more one learns," Said I, as off to sleep I went, Bemused with thinking of Tithe concerns. And reading a book, by the Bishop of Ferns, (>) On tlie Irish Church Establishment. But, lo, in sleep, not long I lay, When Fancy her usual tricks began. And I found myself bewitch'd away To a goodly city in Hindostan,— A city, where he, who dares to dine On aught but rice, is deem'd a sinner; Where sheep and kine are held divine, And, accordingly— never drest for dinner. "But how is this?" I wondering cried,— As I walk'd that city, fair and wide. And saw, in every marble street, A row of beautiful butcher's shops,— "What means, for men who do n't eat meat, This grand display of loins and chops?" In vain I ask'd— 't was plain to see That nobody dared to answer me. So, on, from street to street I strode; And you can't conceive how vastly odd The butchers look'd,— a roseate crew, Inshrined in stalls, with nought to do ; (■) An indefatigable scribbler of Anti-Catholic pamphlets. 9'i TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED While some on a bench, lialf dozing, sat, And the Sacred Cows were nol more fat. Still posed to think what all this scene Of sinecure trade was meant to mean, "And, pray, " ask'd I — " By whom is paid The expense of this strange masquerade ? " — " The expense I — oh, that 's of course defray 'd (Said one of these well-fed Ilecatombers) By yonder rascally rice-consumers." *' What ! they, who never must eat " "No matter — (And, while he spoke, his cheeks grew fatter) The rogues may munch their Paddy crop, But the rogues must still support our shop. And, depend upon it, the way to treat Heretical stomachs that thus dissent, Is to burden all that won't eat meat, With a costly Meat Establishment." On hearing these words so gravely said. With a volley of laughter loud I shook ; And my slumber fled, and my dream was sped, And I found I was lying snug in bed, With my nose in the Bishop of Feuns's book. TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. 95 PROPOSALS FOR A GYKOECOCRACY. ADDRESSED TO A LATE RADICAL MEETING, " Qiias ipsa decus sibi dia Camilla Delegit, pacisque bonas bellique ministras." — Virt^U. As Wliig Reform has had its range, And none of us are yet content, Suppose, my friends, by way of change, We try a Female ParJiament; And since, of late, with he M. P.'s We 've fared so badly, take to she's, — Petticoat patriots, flounced John Russells, Burdetts in blonde, and Broughams in bustles. The plan is startling, I confess,— But 't is but an affair of dress; Nor see I much there is to choose 'Twixt Ladies (so ihey 're thorough-lircd ones) In ribands of all sorts of hues. Or Lords in only blue or red ones. At least, the fiddlers will be winners, Whatever otlier trade advances ; As then, instead of Cabinet dinners, We '11 have, at Almack's, Cabinet dances ; Nor let this world's important questions Depend on Ministers' digestions. If Ude's receipts have done things ill, To Weippert's band they may go better ; There 's Lady * * , in one quadrille, Would settle Europe, if you 'd let her .- 96 TRIFLES, REPRINTED And who the deuce or asks or cares, When Whigs or Tories have undone 'em. Whether they've danced through State affairs. Or simply, dully, dined upon 'em ? Hurra then for the Petticoats ! To them we pledge our free-born votes ; We'll have all she, and only she, — Pert blues shall act as " best debaters," Old dowagers our Bishops be, And termagants our Agitators. ' If Vestris, to oblige the nation. Her own Olympus will abandon, And help to prop the Administration, It can't have better legs to stand on. The famed Macaulay ( Miss ) sliall show , Each evening, forth in learn'd oration ; Shall move (midst general cries of " Oh ! ") For full returns of population : And, finally, to crown the whole, The Princess Olive, Royal soul, Shall from her bower in Banco Regis, Descend, to bless her faithful lieges, And, mid our Unions' loyal chorus, Reign jollily for ever o'er us. TO THE EDITOR OF THE * * *. Sir, Having heard some rumours respecting the strange anp awful visitation under which Lord H — nl — y has for some time past been suffering, in consequence of his declared hostility to TRIFLES, REPRllXTED. 97 "anthems, solos, duets, etc.," I took the Hberly of makmg in- quiries at his Lordship's house this morning, and lose no time in transmitting to you such particulars as I could collect. It is said that the screams of his Lordship, under the operation of this nightly concert (which is, no doubt, some trick of the Radicals), may be heard all over the neighbourhood. The female who per- sonates St. Cecilia is supposed to be the same that, last year, appeared in the character of Isis, at ihe Pxotunda. How the cherubs are managed, I have not yet ascertained. Yours, etc., P. P. LORD H— NL— Y AND ST. CECILIA. in Metii descendat Judicis aures. — Horat. As snug in his bed Lord H— nl— y lay, Revolving much his own renown, And hoping to add thereto a ray, By putting duets and anthems down, Sudden a strain of choral sounds Mellifluous o'er his senses stole ; Whereat the Reformer muiter'd, " Zounds ! " For he loathed sweet music with all his soul. Then, starting up, he saw a sight That well might shock so learn'd a snorer,— Saint Cecilia, robed in light. With a portable organ slung before her. And round were cherubs, on rainbow vvitigs, Who, his Lordship fear'd, might tire of flitting. 08 TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. So begg'd they'd sit,— but ah ! poor things, They had, none of them, got the means of sitting. (■) " Having heard," said the Saint, " you're fond of hymns, And indeed, that musical snore betray'd you, Myself, and my choir of Cherubiras, Are come, for a while, to serenade you." In vain did the horrified H — nl — y say " 'T was all a mistake" — " she was misdirected ;" And point to a concert, over the way, Where fiddlers and angels were expected. In vain — the Saint could see in his looks (She civilly said) much tuneful lorej So, at once, all open'd their music-books, And herself and her Cherubs set off at score. All night duets, terzets, quartets, Nay, long quintets most dire to hear. Ay, and old motets and canzonets. And glees, in sets, kept boring his ear. He tried to sleep, — but it would n't do; So loud they squall 'd, he nmst attend to 'em; Thoush Cherubs' songs, to his cost he knew. Were like themselves, and had no end to 'em. Oh judgment dire on judges bold. Who meddle M'ith music's sacred strains ! Judge Midas tried the same of old. And was punish 'd, like H— nl— y, for his pains. (') " Asscyez-vous, mes enfans." — "II n'y a pas de quoi, monj Seigneur." TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 99 But worse on the modern judge, alas ! Is the sentence launch'd from Apollo's throne ; For Midas was given the ears of an ass, While H— nl— y is doom'd to keep his own ! THE DANCE OF BISHOPS; OR, THE EPISCOPAL QUADRILLE. A DREAM. " Solemn dances were, on great festivals and celebrations, admitted among the primitive Christians, in which even the Bishops and digni- fied Clergy were performers. Scaliger says, that the first Bishops were called Prcesules (■) for no other reason than that they led off these dances." — Cjclopcedia, Art. Dances. V VE had such a dream,— a frightful dream,— Though funny, mayhap, to wags 'twill seem, By all who regard the Church, like us, 'Twill he thought exceedingly ominous ! As reading in bed I lay last night, Which (being insured) is my delight,— I happen 'd to doze off just as I got to The singular fact which forms my motto. Only think, thought I, as I dozed away, Of a party of churchmen dancing the hay ! Clerks, curates, and rectors, capering all. With a neat-legg'd Bishop to open the ball I Scarce had my eye-lids time to close, When the scene I had fancied before me rose.— (>) Literally, First Dancers. *00 TRIFLES, REPRINTED An Episcopal Hop, on a scale so grand As my dazzled eye-lids could hardly stand. For Britain and Erin cliibb'd their Sees To make it a Dance of Dignities, And I saw, — oh brightest of Church events! A quadrille of the tw o Establishments, Bishop to Bishop ris-a-ris, Footing away prodigiously ! There was Bristol capering up to Derry, And Cork with London making merry; While huge Llandaff, with a See, so so, Was to dear old Dublin pointing his toe. There was Chester, hatch'd by woman's smile, Performing a chaine des dames in style; While he who, whene'er the Lords' House dozes. Can waken them up by citing Moses, (•) The portly Tuam was all in a hurry To set, en evant, to Canterbury. Meantime, while pamphlets stuff'd bis pockets, (All out of date, like spent sky-rockets) Our Exeter stood forth to caper As high on the floor as he doth on paper,— Much like a dapper Dancing Dervise, Who pirouettes his whole church-service, — Performing, 'midst those reverend souls, Such entrechats, such cabrioles. Such balonncs. (') such— rigmaroles, ■ (■) "And what does Moses say?" — One of the ejaculations with which this eminent prelate enlivened his famous speech on the Catholic question. (") A description of the method of executing ihis step may be usefu TRIFLES, REPRINTED. 10» Now high, now low, now this, now that, Tliat none could guess what the devil he'd be at ; Though, watching his various steps, some thought That a step in the Church was all he sought. But alas, alas ! while thus so gay, These reverend dancers frisk'd away, Nor Paul himself (not the Saint, but he Of the Opera-house) could brisker be. There gather 'd a gloom around their glee, — A shadow, which came and went so fast, That ere you could say "'tis there," 't was past, And, lo, when the scene again was clear 'd. Ten of the dancers had disappear 'd, Ten able-bodied quadrillers swept From the hallow 'd floor where late they slept. While twelve was all that footed it still, On the Irish side of that grand Quadrille ! Nor this the worst:— still danced they on, But the pomp was sadden'd, the smile was gone, And again, from time to time, the same Ill-omen'd darkness round them came,— While still, as the light broke out anew, Their ranks look'd less by a dozen or two ; Till ah! at last there were only found Just Bishops enough for a four-hands-round ; And when I awoke, impatient getting, I left the last holy pair poussetting! to future performers in the same line :— " Ce pas est compose de deux mouvemens differens, savoir, pUer, et sauter sur un pied, et se rejeter sur Vautre." — DicUonnaire de Danse. Art. Contre-temps. 10> TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Nota hene. — As ladies in years, it seems, Have the happiest knack at solving dreams, I shall leave to my ancient feminine friends Of the Standard to say what this portends. DICK * '^ * A CHARACTER. Of various scraps and fragments bnilt, Borrow'd alike from fools and wits, Dick's mind was like a patch-work quilt, Made up of new, old, motley hits, — Where, if the Co. call'd in their shares, If petticoats their quota got, And gowns were all refunded theirs, The quilt would look but shy, God wot. And thus he still, new plagiaries seeking. Reversed ventriloquism's trick, For, 'stead of Dick through others speaking, T was others we heard speak through Dick. A Tory now, all bounds exceeding, Now best of WhigSj now worst of rats ; One day, with Malthus, foe to breeding. The next, with Sadler, all for brats. Poor Dick !— and how else could it be? With notions all at random caught, A sort of mental fricassee, Made up of legs and wings of thought,- ' The leavings of the last Debate, or A dinner, yesterday, of wits, Where Dick sate by and, like a waiter. Had the scraps for perquisites. TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED 103 A CORRECTED REPORT OF SOME LATE SPEECHES. " Then I heard one saint speaking, and another saint said,unto that aint." St. S— ncl — r rose and declared in soolli, That he would n't give sixpence to Maynooth. He had hated priests the whole of his life, For a priest was a man who had no wife, (>) And, having no wife, the Church was his mother, The Church was his father, sister, and hrother. Thisheing the case, he was sorry to say, That a gulf 'twixt Papist and Protestant lay, (') So deep and wide, scarce possible was it To say even "how d 'ye do?" across it: And though your Liberals, nimble as fleas, Could clear such gulfs with perfect ease, 'Twas a jump that nothing on earth could make Your proper, heavy -built Christian take. No, no,— if a Dance of Sects must be. He would set to the Baptist willingly, (s) (■) " He objected to the maintenance and education oi a clerijy bound by the particular vows of celibacy, which, as it were, gave them the church as their only family, making it fill the places of father and mother and brother.'" — Debate on the Grant to Maynooth College, The Times, April 19. (") " It had always appeared to him that between the Catholic and Protestant a great gulf intervened, which rendered it impossible, etc." (i) " The Baptist might acceptably extend the offices of religion to the Presbyterian and the Independent, or the member of the Church of England to any of the other three ; but the Catholic," etc. 104 TRIFLES. REPRINTED At the Independent deign to smirk, And rigadoon with old Mother Kirkj Nay ev'n, for once, if needs must be, He would take hands round with all the three; But, as to a jig with Popery, no,— To the Harlot ne'er would he point his toe. St. M— nd— V— le was the next that rose,— That Saint who round, as a pedlar, goes. With his pack of piety and prose. Heavy and hot enough, God knows,— And he said that Papists were much inclined To extirpate all of Protestant kind, Which he could n't, in truth, so much condemn, Having rather a wish to extirpate them ; That is,— to guard against mistake, — To extirpate them for (heir doctrine's sake ; - - A distinction Churchmen always make,— Inasmuch that, when they 've prime control, Though sometimes roasting heretics whole, They but cook the body for sake of the soul. Next jump'd St. J— hnst— njollily forth. The spiritual Dogberry of the North, (') A right " wise fellow and, what's more, An officer," (») like his type of yore ; (') "Could lie then, holding as he did a spiritual office in the Church of Scotland (cries of hear, and laughter) with any consistency give his consent to a grant of money ? " etc. (=■) "I am a wise fellow, and, which is n]Qre,anofacer."— il/«cA^) Liafail, or the Stone of Destiny,— for which see Westminster Abbey. TRIFLES , REPRINTED. «5 As did this awful riddle-me-ree Of T. H. E. D. E. B. T. Hark !— it is struggling Freedom's cry ; "Help, help, ye nations, or I die; 'T is Freedom's fight, and, on the field Where I expire your doom is seal'd." The Gull-King hears the awakening call, He hath summon'd his Peers and Patriots all. And he asks," Ye nohle Gulls, shall we Stand basely by at the fall of the Free, Nor ulter a curse, nor deal a blow ?" And they answer, with voice of thunder," No." Out fly their flashing swords in the air !— But,— why do they rest suspended there ? What sudden blight, what baleful charm, Hath chill'd each eye, and check'd each arm? Alas, some withering hand hath thrown The veil from off that fatal stone, And pointing now, with sapless finger, Showeth where dark those letters linger, — Letters four, and letters three, T.H.E. D. E. B. T. At sight thereof, each lifted brand Powerless falls from every hand ; In vain the Patriot knits his brow, — Even talk, his staple, fails him now. In vain the King like a hero treads, His Lords of the Treasury shake their heads ; 116 TRIFLES , REPRllVTED. And to all his talk of " brave and free," No answer getteth His Majesty Buf'T.H. E. D. E. B. T." In short the whole Gull nation feels They 're fairly spell-bound neck and heels; And so, in face of the laughing world. Must e'en sit down, with banners furl'd, Adjourning all their dreams sublime Of glory and war to— some other time. NOTIONS ON REFORM. BY A MODERN REFORMER. Of all the misfortunes as yet brought to pass By this comet- like Bill, with its long tail of speeches, The saddest and worst is the schism which alas ! It has caused between W—th—r—rswaistcoatand breeches. Some symptoms of this Anti-Union propensity Had oft broken out in that quarter before; But the breach, since the Bill, hasattain'd such immensity, Daniel himself could have scarce wish'd it more. Oh ! haste to repair it, ye friends of good order. Ye Atw— ds and W— nns, ere the moment is past . Who can doubt that we tread upon Anarchy's border. When the ties that should hold men are loosening so fast? Mahe W— th— r— 1 yield to" some sort of Reform," (As we all must, God help us ! with very wry faces ; ) And loud as he likes let him bluster and storm About Corporate Rights, so he '11 only wear braces. TRIFLES, REPRINTED U^ Or, if those he now sports have been long in possession, And, hke his own borough, are worse for the wear, Advise him, at least, as a prudent concession To intellect's progress, to buy a new pair. Oh! who that e'er saw him when vocal he stands, With a look something midway 'twixt Filch's and Lockit's, While still, to inspire him, his deeply-thrust hands Keep jingling the I'hino m both breeches-pockets — Who that ever has listen'd, through groan and through cough , To the speeches inspired by this music of pence, — But must grieve that there 's anything like falUiKj off In that great nether source of his wit and his sense? Who that knows how he look'd when, with grace debonair. He began first to court — rather late in the season — Or when, less fastidious, be sat in the chair Of his okUriend, the Nottingham Goddess of Reason; (') That Goddess, whose borough-like virtue attracted All mongers in both wares to proffer their love ; Whose chair like the stool of the Pythoness acted, AsW— th— r — I's rants, ever since, go to prove j (') (i) 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. (») Lucan's description of the effects of the tripod on the appearance and voice of the sitter, shows that the symptoms are at least, very si- milar : Spumea tunc primum rabies vesana per ora EfQuit tunc moestus vastis ululatus in antris. H8 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Who, in short, would not grieve, if a man of his graces Should go on rejecting, unwarn'd by the past. The" moderate Reform" of a pair of new braces, Till, some day,— he all falls to pieces at last. TORY PLEDGES. I PLEDGE myself, through thick and thin, To labour still, with zeal devout. To get the Outs, poor devils, in, And turn the Ins, the wretches, out. I pledge myself, though much bereft Of ways and means of ruling ill. To make the most of what are left, And stick to all that 's rotten still. Though gone the days of place and pelf. And drones no more take all the honey, I pledge myself to cram myself With all I can of public money. To quarter on that social purse My nephews, nieces, sisters, brothers, Nor, so we prosper, care a curse How much't is at the expense of others. I pledge myself, whenever Right And Might on any point divide. Not to ask which is black or white. But take, at once, the strongest side. TRIFLES, REPRINTED. H9 For instance, in all Tithe discussions, I'm for the Reverend encroachers :— I loathe the Poles, applaud the Russians,— Am for the Squires, against the Poachers. Betwixt the Corn -Lords and the Poor I've not the slightest hesitation,— The People must be starved, t' insure The Land its due remuneralion. I pledge myself to be no more With Ireland's wrongs beprosed or shamm'd,— I vote her grievances a hare, So she may suffer and be d— d. Or if she kick, let it console us, We still have plenty of red coats, To cram the Church, that general bolus, Down any given amount.of throats. I dearly love the Frankfort Diet,— Think newspapers the worst of crimes ; And would, to give some chance of quiet. Hang all the writers of The Times; Break all their correspondents' bones, All authors of. Reply," "Rejoinder," From the Anti-Tory, Colonel J— es, To the Anti-Suttee, Mr. P— ynd— r. Such are the Pledges I propose; And though I can't now offer gold. There's many a way of buying those Who 've but the taste for being sold. 120 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. So here 's, with three times three hurrahs, A toast, of which you '11 not complam, — " Long life to johhing; may the days Of peculation shine again !" ST. JEROME ON EARTH. FIRST VISIT. As St. Jerome, who died some ages ago, Was siting, one day, in the shades helow, " I' ve heard much of English bishops," quoth he. " And shall take a trip up to earth, to see How far they agree, in their lives and ways, With our good old bishops of ancient days. " He had learn'd — but learn'd without misgivings— Their love for good living, and eke good livings ; Not knowing (as ne'er having taken degrees) That good living means claret and fricassees, While its plural means simply — pluralities. " From all I hear," said the innocent man, " They are quite on the good old primitive plan. For wealth and pomp they little can care. As they all say ' no' to the Episcopal chair; And their vestal virtue it well denotes That they all, good men, wear petticoats." Thus saying, post-haste to earth he hurries. And knocks at the Archbishop of Canterbury's. The door was oped by a lackey in lace, Saying, " What 's your business with his Grace?" "His Grace!" quoth Jerome— for posed was he, Not knowing what sort this Grace could be ; TRIFLES, REPRIXTED 1>I Whether Grace preventimj, Grace particular, Grace of that breed called Quinquai-ticidar {')— In short, he rummaged 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 loved 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 manj-fokl 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. " (') So called ft-om the proceedings of the Synod of Dort. ('■) Witness his well-known pun on the name of his adversary, Vigi- lantius, whom he calls facetiously Dormitantius. (3) The suspicion attached to some of the early Fathers of being Arlans in their doctrine would appear to derive some confirmation from this passage. 122 TRIFLES. REPRIIVTED ST. JEROME ON EARTH. SECOND VISIT. " This much I dare say, that, since lording and loitering hath rome 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 iXaxwe"— Latimer, Sermon of the Plough. "Once more," said Jerome, " I '11 run up and see How the Church goes on,"— and offset iie. Just then the packet-boat, which trades Betwixt our planet and the Shades, Had arrived below, with a freight so queer, " My eyes ! " said Jerome, " what have we here ? "— For he saw, when nearer he explored, They 'd a cargo of Bishops' wigs aboard. "They are ghosts of wigs." said Charon, "all, Once worn by nobs Episcopal. For folks on earth, when they 've got a store Of things like these they want no more. Oft send them down, as gifts, you know. To a certain Gentleman here below. " "A sign of ihe times, I plainly see," Said the Saint to himself as, pondering, he Sail'd off in the death-boat gallantly. Arrived on earth, quolh 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." TRIFLES, REPRmrED 123 But oh ! to tell what scenes he saw, — It was more than Rabelais' pen could draw. For instance, he found Ex— I— 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. He found that pious soul, Van M — Id— t, Much with his money-bags bewilder'd; Snubbing the Clerks of the Diocess, (') Because the rogues show'd restlessness At having too little cash to touch. While li€ «o Cbristianly bears too much. He found Old Sarum's wilsas gone As his own beloved text in John, (»)— Text he hath prosed so long upon. That 't is thought when ask'd, at the gate of heaven, His name, he'll answer *' John v. 7." " But enough of Bishops I 've had to-day," Said the weary Saint,— "I must away. Though I own I should like, before T go, To see, for once ( as I 'm ask'd below If really such odd sights exist ), A regular six-fold Pluralist. " Just then he heard a general cry " There's Doctor Hodgson galloping by ! " (') See the Bishop's Letter to Clergy of Lis Diocese. (*) John, V. 7. A text which, thoii;;h long given up bv all the rest of the orthodox world, is still pertinaciously adhered to by this Right Reverend scholar. n't TRIFLES, REPRIKTED " 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 w^ay. Sir, pray is the Doctor gone ?" — " He is now at his living at Hillingdon." " 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. " Thus all in vain the Saint inquired. From living to living, mock'd and tired ; — 'T was Hodgson here, 't was Hodgson there, 'T was Hodgson nowhere, everywhere ; Till, fairly beat, the Saint gave o'er, And flitted away to the Stygian shore. To astonish the natives under ground With the comical things he on earth had found. THE CONSULTATION. " Wlien they do agree, their unanimity is wonderful. — " The Critic. Scene discovers Dr. Whig and Dr. Tory in consultation. Patient on the poor hetxceen them. Dr. Whig. — This wild Irish patient does pester me so, That what to do with him, I 'm curst if I know. (') It was a saying of the wellk-nown Sir Boyle, that " a man coull not be in two places at once, unless he was a bird." TRIFLES, REPRIKTED. 1-25 I 've promised him anodynes Dr. Tory. Anodynes!— Stuff. Tie him down— gag him well- he '11 be tranquil enough. That 's my mode of practice. Dr. Whig. True, quite in your line, But unluckily not much, till lately, in mine. 'T is so painful Dr. Tory. — Pooh, nonsense— ask Tide how he feels, When, for Epicure feasts, he prepares his live eels. By flinging them in, 'twixt the bars of the fire, And letting them wriggle on there till they tire. He, too, says " 't is 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 treatedjusl so. (') 'T is 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. Used, at some operations, to blush to the eyes ; — But, in fact, my dear brother,— if I may make bold To style you, asPeachum did Lockit, of old, — We, Doctors, must act with the firmness of Ude, And, indifferent, like him, — so the fish is hut stew'd, — Must torture live Pats for the general good. {Here patient (f roans and kicks a little.) Dr. Whig. — But what, if one's patient's so devilish perverse, Thai he uonH be thus tortured ? Dr. Tory. Coerce, Sir, coerce. (') This eminent artist, in the second edition of the work wherein he propounds this mode of purifying his eels, professes himself much con- cerned at the charge of inliumanity hrought against his practice, but still begs leave respectfully to repeat that it is the only proper mode of pre- paring eels for the table. i'ifi TRIFLES. REPRINTED. You 're a juvenile performer, but once you begin, You can't think bow fast you may train your hand in : And (smiling) who knows but old Tory may take to the slielf, Wiih the comfort that, while he retires on his pelf. He 's succeeded by one just as — bad as himself? Dr. Whig {looking flattered).— Why, to tell you the truth, I 've a small matter here, Which you lielp'd me to make for my patient last year,— ( Goes to a cupboard and brings out a strait- waistcoat and gag.) And such rest I 've enjoy'd from his raving, since then, That I 've made up my mind he shall wear it again. Dr. Tory {embracing him). — Oh, charming! — My dear Doctor Whig, you 're a treasure, r^ext to torturing, myself, to help you is a pleasure. (Assisting Dr. Whig. ) Give me leave — I 've some practice in these mad machinesj There — tighter— the gag in the raoi.th, by all means. Delightful ! — all 's snug — not a squeak i;eed you feai-, — Yuu may now put your anodynes off Uil next year. (Scene closes. ) TO THE REV. CH— RL— S OV-RT-N, CURATE OF ROMALDKIKK. (See Edinburgh Review, N" 117.) Sweet singer of Rom.ddkirk, thou who artreckon'd, By critics Episcopal, David the Second, (') (■) " Your Lordship, " says Mr. Ov — rt — 11, in the Dedication of his Poem to the Bishop of Chester, " has kindly expressed your persuasion lliat my ' Muse will always be a Muse of saned song, and that it will be timed as David's was.' ' TRIFLES, REPRmXED. 127 If thus, as a Curate, so lofty your flight, Only think, in a Rectory, how you would write ! Once fairly inspired by the " Tithe-crown'il Apollo," (Who beats, I confess it, our lay Phoebus hollow, Having gotten, besides the old Nine's inspiration. The Tent/i of all eatable things in creation), There's nothing, in fact, that a poet like you, So he-nhwd and he-tenth'd, could n't easily do. Round the lips of the swect-tongued Athenian, (') Ihey say. While yet but a babe in his cradle he lay, Wild honey-bees swarni'd, as a presage to tell Of the sweet-flowing words tha thence afterwards fell. Just so round our Ov-rt-n's cradle, no doubt, Tenth ducklings and chicks were seen flitting about; Goose embryos, waiting their doom'd decimation. Came, shadowing forth his adult destination, And small sucking tithe-pigs, in musical droves, Announced the Church poet whom Chester approves. Oh Horace, when thou, in thy vision of yore. Didst dream that a snowy-white plumage came o'er Thy etherealized limbs, stealing downily on, Till, by Fancy's strong spell, thou wert turn'd to a swan, {') IJttle thoughl'st thou such fate could a poet befall. Without any effort of fancy, at all; Little thought'st thou the world would in Ov-rt-n find A bird, ready-made, somewhat different in kind, But as perfect as Michaelmas' self could produce, By gods yclept ansei\ by mortals a goose. (') SopV.ocles. (») album mutor in alitem Superne : nascuiiturque laeves Per digitos, humerosque plumae. 128 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. SCENE FROM A PLAY, ACTED AT OXFORD, CALLED "MATRICULATION." [Boy discovered at a table, with the Thirty-Nine Articles before him.— Enter the R^t. Rev. Doctor Ph— lip— ts.] Doctor P.— There, my lad, lie the Articles— (Boy begins to count t/iem) just thirty-nine — No occasion to count — you 've now only to sign. At Cambridge, where folks are less High-Church than we, The whole Nihe-and-Thirty are liunp'd into Three. Let's run o'er the items; — there's J uslilication. Predestination, and Supererogation, — Not forgetting Salvation and Creed Athanasian, Till we reach, at last, Queen Bess's Ratification. That's sufficient — now, sign — having read quite enough, You "believe in the full and true meaning thereof?" (Boy stares). Oh, a mere form of words, to make things smooth and brief, — A commodious and short make-believe of belief. Which our Church has drawn np, in a form thus articular, To keep out, in general, all who 're particular. But what 's the boy doing ? what ! reading all through. And my luncheon fast cooling !— this never will do. Boy (pori»(/ over the Articles). — Here are points which— pray, Doctor, what 's " Grace of Congruity ?" Doctor P. (sharply). — You '11 find out, young Sir, when you 've more ingenuity. At present, by signing, you pledge yourself merely, Whate 'er it may be, to believe it sincerely. Both in (linbKj and signing we take the same plan, — First, to swallow all down, then digest— as we can. TRIFLES, REPRIjVTED. i29 Boy {still reading).— I '\e to gulp, I see, St. Athanasius's Creed, Which, I 'm told, is a very tough morsel, indeed; As he damns— Doctor P. (aside). — Ay, and so would I, willingly, too, All confounded particular young hoohies, like you. This comes of Reforming ! — all 's o'er with our land, When people won't stand what they can't uuderstand ; Nor perceive that our ever-revered Thirty-Nine W^ere made, not for men to helieve, hut to sign. Exit Doctor P. in a passion. LATE TITHE CASE. " Sic vos non vobis." "The Vicar of B — mh — m desires me to state that, in cousequence of the passing of a recent Act of Parliament, he is compelled to adopt measures which may by some be considered harsh or precipitate; but, ill diicj' to what he owes to his successors, he feels ])0und to preserve the rights of the vicarage." — Letter from Mr. S. Powell, August 6. No, not, for yourselves, ye reverend men. Do you take one pig in every ten, But for Holy Churcli's future heirs, Who 've an ahstract right to that pig, as theirs ; ^ The law supposing that such heirs male Are already seized of the pig, in tail. No, Jiof for himself hath B— mh — m's priest His " well-beloved" of their pennies fleeced : But it is that, before his prescient eyes. All future A'icars of B — mh— m rise. With their embryo daughters, nephews, nieces. And 't is for them the poor he fleeces. 130 TRIFLES. UEPRIKTED He heareih their voices, ages hence, Saying " Take the pig "— " oh take the pence; " The cries of little Vicarial clears, The unborn B—mh— mites, reach his ears ; And, did he resist that soft appeal. He would not like a true-born Vicar feel. Thou, too, L— ndy of L— ck— ngt— n ! A Rector true, if e'er there was oiie. Who, for sake of the L— ndies of coming ages, Gripest the tenths of labourers' wages. (■) 'T is true, in the pockets of thy small-clothes The claim'd ''obvention" (=) of four-pence goes j But iis abstract spirit, unconfined, Spreads to all future Rector-kind, Warning them all to their rights to wake. And rather to face the block, the stake, Than give up their darling right to take. One grain of musk, it is said, iierfuraes (So subtle its spirit) a thousand rooms, And a single four-pence, pocketed well, Through a thousanl rectors' lives will tell. Then still continue, ye reverend souls, And still, as your rich Pactohis rolls, (') Fourteen agricultural labourers (oue of whom received so little as six guineas for yearly wages, one eight, one nine, another ten guineas, and the best-paid of the whole not more than i8/. annually) were all, in the course of the autumn of i832, served with demands of tithe at the rate of 4cf. in the i/. sterling, on behalf of the Rev. F. L — dy, Rector of ," etc. etc. — The Times, August i833. (') One of the various general terms under which oblations, tithes, etc. are comprised. TRIFLES, REPRIIXTED. 131 Grasp every penny, on every side, From every wretch, to swell its tide : Remembering still what the Law lays down, In that pure poetic style of its own, " If the parson in ease submits to loss, he Inflicts the same on the parson in posse. " FOOLS' PARADISE. DREAM THE FIRST. I HAVE been, like Puck, I have been, in a trice. To a realm they call Fools' Paradise, Lying N. N. E. of the Land of Sense, And seldom bless'd with a glimmer thence. But they want it not in this happy place, Where a light of its own gilds every face; Or, if some wear a shadowy brow, 'T is the wish to look wise,— not knowing hoir. Self-glory glistens o'er all that 's there, The trees, the flowers have a jaunty air; The well-bred wind in a whisper blows, The snow, if it snows, is covJeur de rose. The falling founts in a titter fall. And the sun looks simpering down on all. Oh, 't is n't in tongue or pen to trace The scenes I saw in that joyous place. There were Lords and Ladies sitting together. In converse sweet, " What charming weather ! You '11 all rejoice to hear, I 'm sure, Lord Charles has got a good sinecure ; And ihe Premier says, my youngest brother, ( Him in the Guards) shall have another. 132 TRIFLES, REPRINTED. Is n't this very, verij gallant ! — As for my poor old virgin aunt, Who has lost her all, poor thing, at whist, We must quarter her on the Pension List." Thus smoothly time in that Eden roll'd ; It seem'd like an Age of real gold, Where all who liked might have a slice, So rich was that Fools' Paradise. But the sport at which most time they spent, Was a puppets-how, called Parliament, Perform'd hy wooden Ciceros, As large as life, who stood to prose, While, hid behind them, lords and squires, Who own'd the puppets, pull'd the wires; And thought it the very best device Of that most prosperous Paradise, To make the vulgar pay through the nose For them and their wooden Ciceros. And many more such things I saw In this Eden of Church, and State, and Law ; Nor e'er were known such pleasant folk As those who had the hest of the joke. There were Irish Rectors, such as resort To Cheltenham yearly, to drink— port, And bumper, " Long may the Church endure, Where the cure of souls is a sinecure, And a score of Parsons to every soul Is a fair allowance on the whole. " There were Heads of Colleges, lying about. From which the sense had all run out, Ev'n to the lowest classic lees. Till nothing was left but quantities; TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. 133 Which made ihem heads most fit to be Slnck up on a University, Which yearly hatches, in its schools, Such flights of young Elysian fools. Thus all went on, so snug and nice, In this happiest possihle Paradise. But it was but too plain to see, alas, That a downfall soon must come to pass. For grief is a lot the good and wise Don't quite so much monopolize, But that C' lapt in Elysium" as they are) Even blessed fools must have their share. And so it happen'd:— but what befell, In Dream tlie Second I mean to tell. THE RECTOR AND HIS CURATE ; OR, ONE POUND TAVO. " I trust we shall part, as we met, in peace and charity. My la^t payment to you paid your salary up to the 1st of this month. Since that, I owe you for one month, which being a long month, of thirty-one days, amounts, as near as I can calculate, to six pounds eight shillings • My Steward returns you as a debtor to the amount of seven pounds TEN THiLLiNGS FOR CON-ACRE GROUND, which leaves some trifling ba- lance in my favour." — Letter of Dismissal from the Rev. Ularctis Beres- ford to his Curate, the Rev. T. A. Lyons. The account is balanced — the bill drawn out, — The debit and credit all righl, no doubt— The Rector, rolling in wealth and state. Owes to his Curate six pounds eight ; '•5'« TRIFLES, REPRIIVTED. The Curate, that least well-fed of men, Owes 10 his Rector seven pounds ten, Which makelh the balance clearly due From Curate to Rector, one pound two. Ah balance, on earth unfair, uneven! But sure to be all set right in heaven, Where bills like these will be check'd, someday. And the balance settled the other way : Were Lyons the curate's hard-wrung sum Will back to his shade with interest come; And Marcus, the rector, deep may rue This tot, in his favour, of one pound iwo. PADDY'S METAMORPHOSIS. About (ifiy years since, in the days of our daddies, That plan was commenced which the wise now applaud. Of shipping off Ireland's most turbulent Paddies, As good raw material for settlers abroad. Some West-India island, whose name I forget. Was the region then chosen for this scheme so romantic , And such the success the first colony met. That a second, soon after, set sail o'er the Atlantic. Behold them now safe at the lonj;-look'd-for shore, Sailing in between banks that the Shannon might greet. And thinking of friends whom, but two years before, They had sorrow'd to lose, but would soon again meet. And, hark, from the shore, a glad welcome there came— " Arrah, Paddy from Cork, is it you, my sweet boy ?'" While Pat stood astounded, to hear his own name Thus hail'd by black devils, who caper'd for joy! TRIFLES. REPUIIMTED. 135 Can it possibly be ?— lialf amazement— half doubt, Pat listens again— rubs his eyes and looks steady ; Then heaves a deep sigh, and in horror yells out, " Good Lord ! only think,— black and curly already Deceived by that weil-mimickd brogue in his ears, Pat read his own doom in these wool-headed figures, And thought, what a climate, in less than two years, To turn a whole cargo of Pats into niggers ! MORAL. 'T is (bus,— but alas! by a marvel more true Than is told in this rival of Ovid's best stories,— Your Whigs, whou in office a short year or two. By a lusus r,atur(e, all turn into Tories. And thus, when I hear them" strong measures"' advise, Ere the seats tliat they ./e/nof>5 of Martimis Scriblems^ chap. xii. It being an object now to meet With Parsons tliat don't want to eat, Fit men to iill tliose Irish rectories Which soon will have but scant refectories, It has been suggested,— lest that Church Should, all at once be left in the lurch, For want of reverend men endued With this gift of ne'er requiring food,— To try, by way of experiment, whether There could n't be made, of wood and leather, (') (Howe'er the notion may sound chimerical,) Jointed figures, not Imj, but clerical, (=) Which, wound up carefully once a-week, Might just like parsons look and speak, Nay even, if requisite, reason loo As well as most Irish parsons do. Theexprimenl having succeeded quite, (Whereat those Lords must much deliglit, (') The materials of which those Nuremberg Savans, mentioned by Scriblerus, constructed their artificial man. (^) The wooden models used by painters are, it is well known, called " lay figures." c. 138 tRIFLES, REPRIIVTED Who 've shown, by stopping the Church's food, Tliey think 'I is not for her spiritual good To be served by parsons of flesh and blood), The Patentees of this new invention Beg leave respectfully to mention, They now are enabled to produce A large supply, for present use, Of these reverend pieces of machinery, Ready fur vicarage, rectory, deanery, Or any such-like post of skill That wood and leather are fit to fill, N.B.— In places addicted to arson, We can't recommend a wooden parson : But, if the Church any such appoints, They 'd better, at least, have iron joints. In parts, not much by Protestants haunted, A figure to look at 's all that 's wanted — A block in black, to eat and sleep, Which (now that the eating 's o'er) comes cheap. P.S. — Should the Lords, by way of a treat, Premit the clergy again to eat. The Church will, of course, no longer need Imitation -parsons that never feed. And these creatures of ours, broke up, will sell For secular purposes just as well- On r Beresfords, turn'd to liludgeons stout. May, 'stead of beating their own about. Be knocking the brains of Papists out; VVhile our smooth O'Suliivans, by ail means. Should transmigrate into titniiHg-macliines. TRIFLES, REPRWTED. 159 HOW TO MAKE ONESELF A PEER, ACCORDING TO THE NEWEST RECEIPT, AS DISCLOSED IN A LATE HERALDIC WORK. Choose some liile that 's dormant— the Peerage hath many- Lord Baron of Shamdos sonnds nobly as any. Next, catch a dead cousin of said defunct Peer, And marry him, off hand, in some given year. To tlie daughter of somebody,— no matter who, - Fig, tiie grocer himself, if you 're hard run, will do; For, the Medici pills still in heraldry tell, And why shouldn't loUypops quarter as well? Thus, having your couple, — and one a lord's cousin, — Young materials for peers may be had by the dozen ; And 't is hard if, inventing each small mother's-son of 'em, You can't somehow manage to prove yourself one of 'em. Should registers, deeds, and such matters refractory Stand in the way of this lord-manufactory, I 've merely to hint, as a secret auricular, One grand rule of enterprise, — don't be particular. A man who once takes such a jump at nobility Must not mince the matter, like folks of niliility, (») But clear thick and thin with true lordly agility. 'T is true, to a would-be descendant from Kings, Parish-registers sometimes are troublesome things; As oft, when the vision is near brought about, Some goblin, in shape of a grocer, grins out; Or some barber, perhaps, with my Lord mingles bloods, And one's patent of peerage is left in the suds. (') "This we call pure nihility, ormere nothing," — }Fatts's Logic. I'lO TRIFLES, REPRINTED. But there are ways— when folks are resolved to be lords— Of expiirging ev'n troublesome parish records. What think ye of scissors? depend on 't no heir Of a Shamdos should go unsupplied with a pair, As, whate'er else the learn'd in such lore may invent. Your scissors does wonders in proving descent. Yes, poets may sing of those terrible shears With which Atropos snips off both bumpkins and peers. But they 're nought to that weapon which shines in the hands Of some would-be-Patrician, when proudly he stands O' er the careless churchwarden's baptismal array, And sweeps at each cut generations away. — By some babe of old times is his peerage resisted? One snip, —and the urchin hath never existed ! Does some marriage, in days near the Flood, interfere With his one sublime object of being a Peer? Quick, the shears at once nullify bridegroom and bride, — No such people have ever lived, married, or died ! . Such the newest receipt for those high-minded elves. Who 're a fancy for making great lords of themselves. Follow this, young aspirer, who pant'st for a peerage. Take S — m for thy model and B — z for thy steerage, Do all and much worse than old Nicholas Flam does. And— u'/io knows but you '11 be Lord Baron of Shamdos? THE END. 'ffW "** 2^1 This book is DUE on the last date stamped b^low. REC'D LD-Uli} OCT 51966 JAM 2 1971 ^ iAY2^w^ *-*J W REMINGTON RAND INC 2 Ifyia iniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiii AA 000 381 221 i f I _ J PLEA?"; DO NOT REMOVE THIS BOOK CARD J ^ University Research Library ^ CI -t- 'slT' — < o A