THE DEVIL’S STROLL 
 
 THROUGH DUBLIN, 
 
 A SATIRIC SKETCH FROM 
 
 ifljc <Lmit |Ji}MtlititI 
 
 OF 
 
 OLD DUBLIN. 
 
 '“But this that I am going to tell, 
 Which lately on a night befell 
 Is just as true’s the Devils in Hell, 
 Or Dublin City,— Burns. 
 
 DUBLIN: 
 
 EDWARD SMITH, BOOKSELLER, 
 33 TEMPLE BAR, 
 
 1880. 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
DH1*" 
 
 “tyalfa tl|roui)l| 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Whatever controversy may have arisen between the admirers of 
 Coleridge on the one hand, and Southey on the other, as to their respective 
 claims to the authorship of their “ Devil’s Walk,” there can be none 
 whatever as to the author of the following brochure, nor on the source 
 from whence it is taken. Many of our old Dublin Citizens still remem¬ 
 ber the gifted band of wits and humourists, which Stirling Coyne drew 
 round him when about to undertake the Editorship of the Comet News¬ 
 paper in which it first appeared, nor will they fail to recollect how, in 
 retailing the u quips and cranks,” in the broad and pointed allusions to 
 some notable characters of the day, which appeared in its versatile 
 pages they kept the social circle in a roar, neither will they forget how 
 anxiously the appearance of a number was looked forward to, to supply 
 the gossip and fun of the town. Its career, however, was not of long 
 duration, for it is the privilege of Author’s as well as Doctor’s to differ, 
 and unfortunately differences crept in amongst the writers of the Comet 
 followed by the usual fate of the divided house. The Comet’s blaze 
 disappeared behind the horizon, but not, however, before it attained the 
 respectable celebrity of having provoked a state prosecution for shed¬ 
 ding its light on the hypocrisy and venality of those in power at the time* 
 Fine and imprisonment were decreed the proprietors, Messrs. Brown and 
 Sheehan, though ably defended by O’Connel. and taking this in con¬ 
 nection with the disaffection of its staff, it will not be difficult to account 
 for the fall of the Comet. But though its light was dimmed, yet from 
 its ashes sprung the famous “ Paddy Kelly’s Budget,” (nothing like the 
 Paddy of now-a-days,) redolent of broad and grotesque humour, and the 
 “ Satirist ” full of keen and cutting witicisms and pungent nipping satire 
 —They have also disappeared. Many attempts have been made to revive 
 the former without success, and it surely is to be regreted that we the 
 most humourous, mirth provokingist devil-ma-care fun loving people in 
 the world, do not keep alive and in prosperity a national representative 
 of these our idiosyncracies. Before closing this short notice it may not 
 be out of place to revert to the fact that when the Three D’s. 
 
4 
 
 Duffy Davis and Dillon were projecting a newspaper, they modelled the 
 Nation on the lines of the Old Comet, but having in view a higher and a 
 loftier ambition and the hope of a more enduring tame. How those 
 hopes have been realised; how it has fulfilled its mission; how it has created 
 and fostered a public opinion inlreland at home, and of Ireland abroad 
 need not be stated here, Esto perpetua. The Publisher in sub¬ 
 mitting the following to the Public hopes to revive the fading recollec¬ 
 tions of those jovial if troublous times, when the Comet was in its 
 zenith, as well as to perpetuate the memories of that genial band, whose 
 attic evenings were spent in disseminating, through its pages, mirth and 
 jollity to our forefathers, Fifty Golden Year’s Ago. 
 
 33 TEMPLE BAR, 
 
 Dublin. 
 
f ‘PE DEVIL’S, WALKS IF DUBLIIT” 
 
 PART THE FI RST. 
 
 This. is another work, of which we have purchased the copyright 
 &t a considerable expense, for the benefit of our readers, we, therefore 
 hereby advertise all book-pirates not to infringe our ownership. 
 
 Instead of imitating old Dan Homer, who couldn’t see the length 
 of his nose, or Virgil, who was himself an imitator, qr Milton, who strode 
 Upon altars by formally announcing the subject upon which he is about 
 to chaunt, our author, after the manner of Porson, in his Devil’s 
 Walk, dashes into the subject at once, and in the first stanza gives 
 you a complete tableau of His Majesty of the infernal regions sitting on 
 th® dorsiagtic Im-rth, m Itia night-gown and steppers, thus :— 
 
 V) 56429 
 
6 
 
 TtiE DEVIL’S WALKS IM DUBLIN, 
 
 "The Devil one night, while sipping his tea, 
 
 As he sat by the fiery lake, 
 
 IIo thought him, that he in his rambles forgot 
 His census in Dublin td take. 
 
 u Ho ! ho !” said His Majesty, draining his cup, 
 
 “ What a d--d stupid fool must I be, 
 
 ** To pasg by a city so fair, in my walks, 
 
 Where so many are working for me! ” 
 
 Then he called to an imp for a sulphur light. 
 And the Warder to set him to sleep ; 
 
 And he swore, if alive, to awaken at five, 
 Through Dublin to take a peep 
 
 Here the poet, with consummate skill and tact* leaves it entirely to 
 the imagination of his reader to fancy His Majesty’s fits of yawning—his 
 unrobing—his perusal of the Warder, as a u Common Prayer-book,” in 
 bed, and the happy soporific effects of the first column—then the pleasing 
 dreams he had of his u right trusty and well-beloved cousins,” the Bishops 
 and Pardons, and all the usual attendants on sleep—such as sound snoring, 
 Queen Mab, the “ tithe-pig’s tail,” &c. &c. and just as our author fancies 
 you have imagined all this, he announces to you the starting ijp of His 
 Majesty at the precise hour be had named 
 
 He sprang up and dressed by the first cock crow— 
 
 (A devilish smart fellow be made!)— 
 
 f J5ook a dandy of braraly by way of a nip— 
 
 Of the cholera-morbus afraid. 
 
 And having left word with his managing man, 
 
 Should any more Parsons come down. 
 
 To give his dear cousins the warmest berth* 
 ile started off briskly for town. 
 
 It would be doing great violence to our feelings were We here to 
 omit directing the particular attention of the reader to the extreme 
 solicitude evinced by His Majesty for his “ dear cousins J” It is quite 
 evident he had been dreaming of them the whole night, for his first 
 waking thoughts were of their comfort. The never-to-be-enough-admired 
 good-nature with which he desires his “ managing man” to reserve the 
 warmest” corner for snch blood-relations and real friends* fully hears 
 out the old saying, that “ the Devil himself is kind to his own.” The 
 landing of His Majesty in our far-famed city is thus noticed « 
 
 ft > * ?>;••• : 1 % ' I 
 
Ti tK DEVIL’S WALKS IN DULL IN, 
 
 1 
 
 in the Liberty, first) he took his stand, 
 
 And seeing gaunt misery there,= 
 u Huzza!” he cried , 41 for the Absentees!” 
 
 44 Their handy work is here !!!” 
 
 But, being a Devil bf feelings refined, 
 
 And having a sensitive nose. 
 
 He took out his bottle of Eau de Cologne) 
 
 And left them to brood on their woes* 
 
 The j)6et does not clearly explain why His Majesty alighted first 
 in the Liberty—for one would naturally think his first visit would have 
 been to his Fellows in College, Bnt the truth is, he had heard* before 
 he left home, that his M.F., for T.C.D. had cantered off to the Tories to 
 look for place, and he knew perfectly well that his Bully, Charley, was 
 doing eveything mau could do to forward his interests in that quarter \ 
 so, it was possible the Devil himself was taken in, by the high-sounding 
 name of “ the Liberty,” and that he expected there to carry on free trade i 
 that he was grossly mistaken,—Liberty being but a name where there 
 is no trade,—is quite evident, from the precipitancy with which he retreats? 
 as will be seen by the following stanza j— 
 
 He ran from the Coombe up through Patrick-street, 
 
 And out by St. Nicholas’s-gate $ 
 
 When he heard the last toll of the Christ Church bell,— 
 
 Said he — fi X was near being late !” 
 
 But his servants, the sextons, seeing him come, 
 
 Threw open the chancel door, 
 
 And Hie Majesty strode hi Imperiously, 
 
 As he ofteu had done before. 
 
 He saw the Choir ail singing their psalms,— 
 
 But their thoughts were—God knows where!-—• 
 
 And he said to his steward in mitre and stole— 
 
 “ Alfs right l my Lord Kildare J” 
 
 It Is obvious that His Majesty, although a, fallen ang#t, is still afi 
 iwigd of justice; he bestows praise, and acknowledges merit, wiser® 
 praise is due, and merit apparent. The simple expression " All's right!” 
 coming from a great personage of few words, conveys a world of thanks 
 to his “ steward in the vineyard,” At a glance, His Majesty could 
 perceive that the mockery, of the lips pronouncing what the thoughts 
 did not lay hold of, not the heart feel, was everything he could wish ; 
 he saw that ’‘Establishment” would continue as fruitful a vineyard to 
 him as it ever had been so long as the same culture was practised on the 
 same soil,—and “ he went his way rejoicing 
 
THE DETIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 |fe<xt the dome of the Four Courts caught his eye, 
 
 And away to the King’s Bench he flew ; 
 
 And seeing dame Kemmis, good-naturedly cried, 
 
 Ah, Brother ! how d’ y’ do ?” 
 
 They would have embraced, had not lon® Jack, 
 
 Like a hungry wolf, stalked by. 
 
 After donning his wig and his ermined robe, 
 
 Which attracted the Devil’s eye. 
 
 The Devil slid up to Jack’s lengthy ear, 
 
 And whispered.—The Chief waxed pale ! ! 
 
 ° Not yet ! not yet! !” imploring, he cried, 
 
 As he thought oi Doneraile ! !'! 
 
 Next a little dark-muzzled man, quite aleck, 
 
 Expected to pass unknown ; 
 
 JBut the Devil kens his livery too well, 
 
 Not to see and to know “ his own.’* 
 
 ’Twas the Attorney-General he beheld, 
 
 ' Practising a double part, 
 
 Heady to shuttle his Whig friends out, 
 
 And fresh with the Tories so start,—- 
 
 And he scowled with jealousy to see 
 Himself tricked of his desert, 
 
 And vowed that no Devil in hell could be 
 At treachery more expert. 
 
 Peter Fitzgibbon Hepchey next he saw 
 Like a bridegroom cutting a swell ; 
 
 " Ah, Peter, my son ! how’s my Lady ?” he cried,—- 
 Peter said—“ fcir, your daughter is well! 
 
 At Bumbo Green he stared in amaze, 
 
 As he measured his height and bulk. 
 
 “ Friend Charon,” said he, “ must buy a new boat, 
 
 •• Or he’ll swamp his old crazy hulk !” 
 
 er my part, “the fat would be all in the fire, 
 
 • • Did I throw him in my kitchen grate, 
 
 “ So up he my go to make oil for the stars, 
 
 “ Or to pull down the sky with his weight ! 
 
 When he saw brother Scriven’s crimpcd-up leather face 
 Of a mummy from Egypt he thought; 
 
 And he wondered if into such cheeks the life-blood, 
 a hinpk eoa’Ul have been brolight ? 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN BWBLES. 
 
 * 
 
 We eannot forbear making a few remarks on the foregoing stanzas 
 before we proceed further. It will be noticed that, poor or rich, his 
 Majesty never forgets his next-of-kin ; the affectionate manner in which 
 he takes his Brother by the hand the moment he enters the King’s 
 Bench, shows that he is, after all, a very good-natured Devil. The poet 
 who reports His Majesty’s progress through the city has shown a great 
 deal of skill iii the rrianagement of His Majesty’s interview with his 
 foster brother, Long Jack. From the mysterious manner in which he 
 whispers his victim, and the imploring “ not yet i not yet ! !” it may be 
 inferred that Jack had pawned his soul to His Majesty, who was asking 
 for his own at the moment. However, we cannot help admiring the 
 Devil’s forbearance in not pressing the niatter at that inconvenient time. 
 The Devil’s “ own” livery is a capital hit ; and the Janus-like. At¬ 
 torney-General—half Whig—half Tory—half setting and half rising 
 sun-worshipper—is a masterly touch :—but the Devil’s jealousy at 
 seeing himself otit-generalled in treachery, is really too great a stretch 
 of the poet’s fancy. As for Peter Fitzgibbon Heachey’s tart reply about 
 the Devil’s own u daughter”—if it is to be excused, considering that 
 Peter’s nupitals were so prematurely discovered at the Royal Hotel, 
 Kingstown, and that it is not very palatable to have to pay 12,0001. for 
 an old whistle. But to return to His Majesty’s progress :— 
 
 The Devil perceiving his cage wag so full 
 At the Four Courts that he needn’t fret, 
 
 Bid them hold on the course they were steering s© weH. 
 
 And off to the Viceroy he set. 
 
 He hurried along through Castle-street. 
 
 And drew np at a certain place ; 
 
 Says he to himself,—I’ll step in here,— 
 
 And he pnt on his best court face. 
 
 They may find me out—was his cautious thought ; 
 
 1 must move wuh discretion and tact. 
 
 Or they’ll send me to quod, like the Polish Count, 
 
 For a breach of the Alien Act. 
 
 But, casting an eye at a window aloft, 
 
 He assumed a more confident part,— 
 
 hara-me!” cried Satan,—then, who is afraid?’’ 
 
 “ Don’t I see, I’ve a friend in Court ?” 
 
 Whom he' saw in the window—it would not do 
 To name unto ears polite,— 
 
 ’!&* certain, ’twas one whom he though he knew, 
 fcfca-vitug scea Irk* at Waterloo fight. 
 
10 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 He knocked **t the door-—Bartholomew came, 
 
 Blpd-amouus !’’ spared out the Devil, 
 t( Is it here you are since I turned you out, 
 
 " Being eyen for Hell too uncivil ?” 
 
 " Yce \** growled Bartholomew, u«h«K*ng him in,— 
 
 The Dovil, up stairs, cut a “ swell,” 
 o How pleasant J” cried Nick, as he greeted 14 s friend, 
 
 " When Brothers in uuity dwell,” 
 
 They talked awhile about olden times ; 
 
 And, in the course of conversation. 
 
 The Devil a high eiilogtum passed 
 On the Whig Administration, 
 
 Asked, was the Gosaett Gazette true blue ? 
 
 The Apostate Dost insane ? 
 
 And if “ the Beloved” eould extinguish that light 
 Which was spoiling ChmclHrade in Church-laua ? 
 
 Then talked to his v\nmn about Carrickshock, 
 
 A?>d the Sla-ney'® ensanguined shore, 
 
 And said, ” that religion was most to his mind 
 ** Which fattened on human gore!” 
 
 Then, taking his hat, he hade '"good bye 
 And gladly resumed his walk— 
 
 Thinking that he fpd lost all his time 
 In hearing the old soldier talk, 
 
 We rather think our author, when he penned the stanza about 
 Bartholomew, the Castle Porter, had in mined Cayplan’s celebrated im¬ 
 promptu, It will be recollected that the bard, not being able to persuade 
 the butler of a noble family to let him into the wine-celler, wrote on the 
 door™ 
 
 What a pity HelTs gate is kept by O’Flinn,— 
 
 So surly a dog would let nobody in. 
 
 Our poet insinuates that His Satanic Majesty was obliged to discharge 
 the present Castle Porter from keeping the lodge gate in his nether 
 regions, in consequence of his incivility, which might, possibly, interrupt 
 that free access to his august person which he wished to promote for the 
 especial benefit of the sons of the earth. His Majesty's tete a tete with 
 the Viceroy, is of that pleasant, nay gabby nature which a knowing 
 shot, and an old soldier, may be supposed to take delight in. Jlis 
 MajestyV next excursion is thus described 
 

 TME DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN; 
 
 11 
 
 Afc a certain shop in Graf ton-street, 
 
 He pulled a bundle of flimsies, 
 
 And swore a grefift outh, he had almost forgot 
 To pay his subscription at Tint's, 
 
 Maying entered his name, and left his card 
 For his brothers “ Conservative,” 
 
 Ht grinned a smile of that horrible joy 
 Which gratified malice can give, 
 
 ** These fc^k,” cried he, as he rubbed hfs hands,— 
 
 “ Are working for me, like fools ; 
 
 “ They could not have drived my trade more smre, 
 u Had they studied in my own schools/* 
 
 Then, on he walked to the Parliament-house,— 
 
 What a pleasant tale it told 
 
 Of recreant deeds and of bitter tears ! ! 
 
 Of a nation bought and sold !!! 
 
 So far he had found everything to hito mind, 
 
 And nothing to give him pain,— 
 
 But a sad reverse he was doomed to meet 
 When he turned up into Church-lane 1 
 
 i 
 
 For, there was the Comet, blazing out bright, 
 
 And doing its duty well ; 
 
 Standing first in the fight for the people’s right,— 
 
 And it frightered the Devil to Hell! ! ! 
 
 His Majesty’ affright at the blaze of truth from the Combt is here 
 6nely conceived. His sudden retreat back to Hell, notwithstanding all 
 his previous swagger, is admirably contrasted with the gay nonchalance 
 which distinguished his demeanour in the mystified, perverted, and 
 poluted atmosphere of humbug, deceit, chicanery, bribery corruption, 
 
 hollow-heartedness, bigotry, intolerance, and kindred devilry, wherein 
 he had been indulging the congeniality of his feelings, during his morn¬ 
 ing’s walk. As the poet has called this the “ First Part of the 
 Devil’s Walk through Dublin,” we reckon upon having a second 
 part to lay before our readers shortly. We suppose the second part will 
 be a description of the state in which His Majesty found his fire-side on 
 his return—what Parsons, Bishops, and other guests had arrived during 
 his absence—his recovery from his fright—his preparations Iqr another 
 visit by stealth — and his entranc-e course in College, 
 
12 
 
 IN DUBLIN. 
 
 PART THE SECOND- 
 
 Notwithstanding our caution to the pirates, in the introduction to 
 the first part of this poem, we find the “ walking stationers” have been 
 turning a penny upon His Majesty’s first ramble in our city. We 
 understand ten thousand copies, at a halfpenny a half-sheet containing 
 the *‘ first part” of our poem, have been sold in Dublin during the past 
 week. This pirated halt-sheet is very imperfectly printed , of such 
 mutilation we must complain : but as the printer has acknowledged the 
 piracy to be u from the CoMEt Newpaper” in all the glory of athletic 
 type, we hereby acquit him of the capital charge, and shall only indict 
 him for the misprints and slovenly reading. 
 
 Now, as to the u second part” of Sataifis Rambles, we fancy there 
 is little need of making a long preface, for the purpose of again intro¬ 
 ducing His Majesty to any of our readers. Those who have read the 
 “first part” will recollect the concluding stanza, which as well as we 
 can remember, recorded his consternation in passing through Church- 
 lane, and ran thus :— 
 
 Tor there was the Comet, blazing out bright, 
 
 And doing its duty well ; 
 
 Standing first in the fight for the people’s right— 
 
 And it frightened the Devil to Hell ! ! ! 
 
 We have been favoured, by an eminent artist, with a sketch for a 
 i'll us Ha ting tku ver*« which we hope to pr<mnt to realtors 
 
THK ©EVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 IS 
 
 in the next Comet. Our poet has already elicited our warmest praise 
 for his never-to-be-enough-admired-and-be-praised poem, which we tiere 
 take leave to say ^exceeds Porson’s production in smoothness of versifica¬ 
 tion and invention, Wordsworth in monosyllabic simplicity, and Philip 
 ijixoa Hardy in the Pleasures of Piety. The second part of the poem 
 opens with a peculiar tact, .throwing into the foreground an incident so 
 pleasing and soothing to His Majesty, after his affright in Church-lane, 
 that he instantly forgets all His consternation :—- 
 
 When hack at the gates of Hell he arrived, 
 
 He found his imps all merry ; 
 
 And Cerberus, dressed in a suit of his best, 
 
 Handing in a friend, from Berry. 
 
 The Devil “ grinned horribly a ghastly smile,’ * 
 
 To see such a bloated Black Slug, 
 
 And swore he was welcome to his fire-side, 
 
 And might sit on his own hearth-rug. 
 
 It surely must be admitted that His Majesty is a good-nafrured 
 Devil, as we have said before, and by no means ungrateful to his super¬ 
 annuated servants. There is something very touching in the kindly 
 feelings with which he invites one to whom he owes such obligations, to 
 partake of even the domestic comforts of his own fire-side, and to sit upon 
 His own hearth. 
 
 “ ’Tis well !” muttered Nick—“ and thus, one by one 
 “ Th’ whole Bench will come to me : 
 
 “ To take their last ride on Phlegethon’s tide, 
 
 1 ‘ In fire everlastingly. 
 
 * Whilst prowling aloft, ’twas their anxious desire 
 “ To gain the warmest berth ; 
 
 w And why, here, should I, to such worthies deny 
 What they sought with such zeal on earth ?’* 
 
 Here His Majesty concludes with a very natural question, which, we 
 are sure, the people of Ireland have too much justice to return any other 
 answer to, than that of approval. , There is not a man, woman, or child, 
 ih the Emerald Isle, who had ever heard of Castlepollard, Newtownbarry, 
 or Carrickshock, that would not commend His Majesty for his solicitude 
 to give these heads of the * 6 Establishment” the very hottest berth in his 
 dominions, and to repay the warmth of their worldly zeal, by an equally 
 warns reception in rim regions of their reward. 
 
14 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN 
 
 lie called for the list of arrivals since 
 He’d set out on his visitation, 
 
 Wishing to know how many good friend# 
 
 Had bettered their situation. 
 
 In your absence.” cried Cerberus, Charon has brought 
 A devilish proud batch of souls,— 
 
 L.LD.’s and K.C.’s of all sorts and degrees, 
 
 And Parsons and Lawyers in shoals. 
 
 Good ! cried the Devil—“ range the Parsons say I, 
 
 On the griddle, beside old Magee ;— 
 
 There let them bake, some atonement to make, 
 
 For their canting scan, mag, against me. 
 
 There wrangling Lawyers,—bring them to the spot, 
 
 Where Toler hangs up in the corner; 
 
 With him they may prate, as they share in the fate 
 Of the punster, the scoffer, and scorner. 
 
 Of the Lawyers, I think, you may tie back to back,— 
 
 Back-biting was one of their tricks,— 
 
 Then put a couple in every sack, 
 
 And slap the toads into the Styx. 
 
 It may be necessary to interrupt the reader here for a moment, lest 
 it might escape his observation that His Satanic Majesty generally has an 
 eye to business in all his movements,—and, not unfrequently, a retrospec¬ 
 tive one. For instance, he sends the Parsons, who had been so well 
 schooled for him in another world by the Archbishop Magee, to finish fcheir 
 course under his tiltorage: the celebrated CHEip-punster he has hanging 
 in token of the many similar favours he had conferred on poor mortals ui 
 another place ; and he orders the Lawyers to be smothered in the River 
 Styx; to prevent them from breeding as much discord in Hell as they had 
 done upon earth. He next summonses a court leet, before which he tells 
 a long-rigmarole before his rambles in Dublin ;— 
 
 Fly! presto ! be quick ! see my orders obeyed : 
 
 bend my council up here in a trice. 
 
 With the Comet I’m vexed— my plans are perplexed— 
 And I wish for the council's advice. 
 
 His Highness, when Cerberus went, then drew out 
 A bottle he*d bought when in town, 
 
 *Twas labeled Malt Whiskey, intended no doubt, 
 
 To Kill Grief and Lam i i to drown 
 
THE DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN, 
 
 15 
 
 *Twas I first invented this liquid, cried Nick, 
 
 And by it I thousands have done ; 
 
 It iickens more healthy, and settles more sick, 
 
 Than choleratinorbus or gun, 
 
 ’Tis a cordial but fit for a devil like me, 
 
 Who’s proof against poison or blows ;— 
 
 Here’s bad luck to old Buckthorn, wherever he be,— 
 
 Who’d open the eyes of all people to see 
 And distinguish their friends from their foes ! 
 
 Having taken the whet, he opened the door, 
 
 And his legal advisers called in, 
 
 And begged they wppld all take their seats on the floor 
 ’Till he should his story begin. 
 
 It will hardly be necessary for us to jnajse any further observa- 
 ons, but to let His Majesty describe his progress in his own words. 
 r e shall take oar leave with a remark, recalling the reader’s attention to 
 is Majesty’a claim of being the first inventor of whiskey. We had often 
 3ard that it was u the Devil’s own liquor”—of its being k * devilish strong” 
 devilish "fuwiy”-—of those wuo indulge in it being 44 devilish drunk”— 
 id of t he certainty that those iLTeclaimably prone to it, ipust go u head- 
 ng to the Devil at last;” but this confirmation from the Devil himself, 
 af he the inventor of it, ought to be quoted by all Temperance Societies, 
 
 • a motto to tlxeir forbidding tracts.—His Majesty’s narrative thus 
 gins;— 
 
 You kppw hew, this morning. I jumped out of led, 
 My stomach disordered with bile, 
 
 T o look after my servants, the Parsons, at work, 
 Above in the Emerald Isle. 
 
 So, under my arm I tucked up my tail, 
 
 And put on my bran new surtout— 
 
 And looked, you may guess, interestingly pale 
 In my scarlet 3 -nd ebony suit. 
 
 Then, flying aloft, I looked all around, 
 
 And landing saw all to be seen ; 
 
 Till, quite off my guard, I unconsciously fouud 
 I had wandered to Saint Stephen’s-green; 
 
 There I spied a stone-building—a pretty one, too, 
 Where many went in and came out— 
 
 And a man at the door I oft seen before.,. 
 
 ’Twas my old croney, Courtney, no doubt. 
 
IS 
 
 THE DETIL’S WALKS IN BIFBLIN. 
 
 Ah Peter, cried I, ‘ what news for a friend ? 
 
 Who’s gone down post-haste into Hell ? 
 
 My friends true an" 8 tried—how are they inside ? 
 Quoth Peter, ‘the’re all doing well! 
 
 See onr new stone front, with the figures upon ’t— 
 We built since you last paid a visit ; 
 
 There’s little use now in telling you how 
 The money was purloined that riz it. 
 
 Suffice it to sav, as it very well may, 
 
 There’s of anatomizing no lack— 
 
 We have now got a set of pupils, if let, 
 
 Who can people all Hell in a crack. 
 
 I thank’d him, as surely I felt myself bound, 
 
 And bid the codger farewell \ 
 
 And told him, whenever he came under ground, 
 
 He should get the best treatment in J^ell. 
 
 Onward I passed, till at last I came near 
 To a gate-way open and wide— 
 
 Quote I, by my tail, I’ll venture in here, 
 
 And see what they’re doing inside. 
 
 The ground was all covered with litter and straw, 
 And horses were led up and down— 
 
 While there to my srreat satisfaction I saw. 
 
 All the knowing coves then on the town* 
 
 -V 
 
 Said I to myself, what a glorious haul 
 
 I’ve here when I throw out my net ; t; 
 
 For I ne’er knew a jockey—and I’ve known then* a! 
 Escape from Old Kick’s clutches yet, 
 
 I saw a huge man with mahogany tops— 
 
 My own I don’t think are much nicer— 
 
 Who talk’d about rat-tails, and ring-bones, and crops' 
 And, I think, they all called him Ned Dveer. 
 
 A Reverend Fellow of College was there, 
 
 With heei-spurs, and stays on his back, 
 
 And I look’d with surprize, as he mounted his mare, 
 At hearing him called—Doctor St.— k. 
 
PART THE THIRD 
 
 It must be fresh in the recollection of our readers that in our last 
 number but one, we left His Satantic Majesty relating his peregrinations 
 through this city ; and having accompanied him as far as his descrip¬ 
 tion of Dycer’s Reposotory, we were obliged, for want of space, to inter¬ 
 rupt his narrative rather abruptly ; nor do we think it now necessary to 
 resume the tale at the precise verse we concluded with, it being om 
 design, in reviewing the poem at present before us, to select what 
 portions we may ourselves deem most worthy of notice* and shah jump 
 from one canto to the other as we please, in the full assurance that an 
 attempt at order or regularity would be totally incons istent 
 with any thing in which OM Nick is concerned. As to the merits of the 
 whole Poem, the public will shortly have an opportunity of judging it 
 being nearly ready for publication, (as our fiiend, Paddy Kelly, informs 
 us), in a neat little pamphlet,with notes and comments by the erudite pen 
 of Jonathan Buckthorn, Esq., and illustrated with various engravings 
 from the designs of a celebrated artist, and will certainly form one of 
 the most instructive and cheapest works extant. But to the tale His 
 Majesty’s description of the various noted characters, such a> gentlemen 
 j*tj*pr*»—WoWn-down bkek-bg*—fox hunting .Pardons—and woaki- 
 
18 
 
 TUB DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 be kfcowing ones, from the dandy grocer's or chandler's bdy, to the pot* 
 bellied C donel and niustachio'd martinet he met at Dycer's* although ex¬ 
 ceedingly graphic and correct* is too long and too severe for our columns ; 
 nor is it our wish td bring into disrepute that Hibernian TattersalL 
 Ned himself, whom we believe to be a very gay fellow* and has by 
 industry and perseverance, contrived to idealize a handsome fortune, is 
 now the spirited proprietor of one of the very few establishments which 
 would remind us of this City in “days of yore/' and undoubtedly merits 
 that patronage and encouragement our fellow citizens have so freely 
 bestowed upon him. The black Gentleman having left DyCer's wended 
 his way down Grafton-street, and havirig reached the College* he be¬ 
 thought himself of going in and paying a visit 
 
 He chuckled with glee, as he knocked at thc*gate* 
 
 And adjusted Bis waterproof tile 5 
 
 Tm sure Of a right hearty welcome, quoth he. 
 
 From my old acquaintance, Sam Kyle, 
 
 That Getltleman*s hook in defence Of Tubes, 
 
 Of which I gave him the hint; 
 
 Is read with delight in all corners of Hell— 
 
 There's not such another in print. 
 
 And when I go home, by the powers of Styx 5 
 If triy types are not our of condition* 
 
 I'll order our royal printer forthwith 
 To strike off a Second Edition, 
 
 A man with white stockings, and leathern cap. 
 
 And duds of a rusty blue, 
 
 Havirig opened the gate, arid made a low bow, 
 
 The Devil walked quietly through. 
 
 There he heard with surprise that a Bishop they'd made 
 Of his worthy associate, Sam * 
 
 No matter rer that, cried our friend with the hoof, 
 
 1 don't care a single d— m 
 
 He met with Tom Prior, and courteously ask'd Bus, 
 
 After gracefully touching his hat, 
 
 For fang syne's sake:, the trouble to take, 
 
 Of pointing him out Bandy Batt, 
 
 That knocker-kneed chap in the gaiters, said Tom, 
 
 With a face like an otirang-outatig: 
 
 And large clerical hat—yon may know him by that; 
 
 Cried Nick— he’s a mighty nice man t 
 
THE DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN 
 
 Then Tom introduced the Devil to Batt, 
 
 And Batt looked a? mild as a lamb; 
 
 From your cloth, I presume you’re a churchman: hi 
 said— 
 
 Pon my word, replied Hoofy, I am. 
 
 Deans, Parsons: and Bishops of every degree, 
 
 To my hall of audience resort, 
 
 Batt stared with surprize— Allow me, dear Sir, 
 
 To solicit your favour at Court. 
 
 The poor little pitiful pittance I get, 
 
 By my piperly Provostship here, 
 
 Is noting at all—pray what signifies, Sir, 
 
 A dirty four thousand a-year ? 
 
 Indeed an other small pickings I have, 
 
 Which I now need not mention to veu— 
 
 For the good of the Church, I should wish to have 
 more. 
 
 I’ve no doubt, cried Old Nick but that’s true— 
 
 But come, let us take a walk in the Park ; 
 
 With the ha-ha, pray, what have you done ? 
 
 By the Big Wigs decree, ’twas filled up as you see 
 And we’ve knocked our two—Parks into one^ 
 
 That square that was built since last I was here, 
 
 Do tell me the name of it, pray ? 
 
 I dont think it ever was christened, said Batt, 
 
 But the gibs call it Botany Bay ; 
 
 For in it reside as precious a set 
 As ever were lagged over sea. 
 
 Old Nick rubbed his hands and with ecstacy cried, 
 How welcome they’ll all be to me. 
 
 Youv’e removed my old friends, the nine Muses, I see. 
 And that terror of Bailiffs—-the pump ; 
 
 But who are those Black Slugs in caps, gowns, and 
 bands, 
 
 Collected beyond in a clump ? 
 
 He in the black-totton-tight-pantaleons. 
 
 Is called Francis Sadltes, D.D. : 
 
 Next to him in the Crawlies is wizened old Phipps, 
 
 And Hodgkinson, vice, Sir, to me. 
 
 There’s WraY, with hb whiskers and curls c 
 
 DYED ; 
 
 Hare, minus the bridge of his nose ; 
 
 19 
 
20 
 
 THE BETIL’S WALKS Ms DFMj MS t . 
 
 City of Dublin dosen't furnish a pair 
 Of suck gay gallivjlnters as those. 
 
 He who walks os his tk)es, is Kennedy called 
 Next Singer, not Pa,ulus Emilius , 
 
 There dirty Tom Prior— oh, you know him, I see— 
 And O’Brien, so black and so bilious. 
 
 That copper-faced FELLOW, who’s standing apart, 
 
 So closely wrapt up in his cloak, 
 la little Tom Gannon, who loves in his heart 
 A bottle of wine and a jcke. 
 
 He’s the jester of College since Dan Mooney died— 
 None can plunder Joe Miller lo well ; 
 
 Poor Mooney ! I hope, lies in heaven: long since. 
 
 By mys— muttered Nick, '‘he’s in Hell!” 
 
 That middle-sized man, with the very large mouth, 
 
 And his hands in his pockets, is Wall, 
 
 €)h ho f quoth the Devil, “ 1 know that name well ; 
 down stairs I’ve prepared him a stall. 
 
 Marry Harte is that pudding-faced chap to the left; 
 
 Next to him little Griffin the singer, 
 
 Who tho’ all trades should fail, I’ll be bound would 
 ne’er be 
 
 At- a loss for his supper or dinner 
 
 That dandy you see riding in at the gate. 
 
 With spurs three-inch long, aye or more, 
 
 Is Master Joe Stack. Quote Hoofy, 1 think; 
 
 I saw him this morning before. 
 
 He’s an empty young man, my dear Sir, who has got 
 A vast deal more—bowels than brains; 
 
 From nothing take nothing—-I think you can guess 
 What balance on hands then remains. ' 
 
 That broad shoulder’d, good-looking Slug next to Harts 
 Who walks with his toes tlrne’d in, 
 
 Is Conservative Boyton— believe me, my friend, 
 
 I’ve a dangerous rival in him. 
 
 Whilst the Whigs are in power I care not a % 
 
 And Boyton must teach gui, qil®, quod: 
 those rascally Tories, if once they get ia, 
 
 They 11 make him a Bkhep, by God. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 21 
 
 At the sound of this name the Devil turn d pale, 
 
 (He lookd like dirty Shy-Tighe,) 
 
 And giving poor Batt three clouts of his tail, 
 
 He wished him a very good bye ! 
 
 We regret exceedingly that Batt, in the heat of passion, by having 
 so irreverently made use of that name most unmusical to a demon’s ear 
 should leave thus abruptly terminated Old Nick’s interrogatories, and his 
 own remarks, about the brotherhood of the “ Silent Sister more 
 particularly as there are several members thereof as yet unintroduced to 
 public notice ; however, if we can get his Satanic Majesty in a good 
 humour, (as Lord Brougham said about the King and the Reform Bill, 
 if we could get the Old Boy to a bottle of Port with us, we’ll gain our 
 point,”) perhaps we might coax him, in some future period, to pay another 
 visit to T.C.D. 
 
 P A R T T H E F O U R T H- 
 
 On various occasions we have announced to our contributors, through 
 the medium of our Answers to correspondents, that our “ Devil’s Walk” 
 should be open to them for suggestions ; we have received various hints 
 of the kind was wished, but not exactly suited in metre and spirit to the 
 first parts already published. However, the following, from our re¬ 
 spected contributor Bertor, is so far from being deficient of these 
 qualities, that we gladly give it insertion. 
 
22 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS INDUBLIN. 
 
 Auld Clootie kissed hoof to his College friends, 
 
 As he promised another call,— 
 
 For my present short visit I’ll soon make amends, 
 
 I must now to the Linen Hall. 
 
 He llew, and ne’er stopt till in Lurgan-street 
 Thro’ his Salomons’ he descried 
 
 The eighth part of a man ; such a meeting was meet— 
 ’Twas T-r, the Broker, he sjned. 
 
 How do ? my friend Andy ; I’ll shortly put on 
 A new steamer to ply o’er the Styx. 
 
 They shook hands ; and the Broker, as they'movea on, 
 Slipped his card and address into Kick’s. 
 
 The Agency ? oh, ’tis yours ! said Kick, 
 
 And let these be our rules for trading,— 
 
 A penny per scull is our freight—but no tick— 
 
 Give Charon the Bill of Lading. 
 
 Here we are constrained, by a due sense of His Majesty! gentle¬ 
 manlike concession to the Broker’s wishes of becoming his Agent in the 
 trading line, to pause and express our admiration of the poet’s skill. 
 He does not like your every-day common-place versifiers teaze his readers 
 to death with rigmarole amplification, but, as it were by a single touch 
 of his pencil, here and there, with the utmost nonchallance dashes off an 
 outline which gives you more of the character and expression of his 
 subject than could be given by a much more elaborate picture. He merely 
 tells you in the most careless way imaginable, that the Broker slipped 
 his card, bearing his name and address, into His Majesty’s hand and 
 leaves you, from what you already know by your own experiences of the 
 u evil influance,” to guess that Satan at once understood the hint. Like 
 a flash of lightening he ejaculates, u the Agency ?” with a note of inter¬ 
 rogation, signifying, “ is that what you aie at, my jewel?” and in the 
 same breath he yields to his wishes, with all the gentlemanlike alacrity 
 which distinguishes Earl Grey’s demeanour when some brother, son, or 
 cousin writes nolo episcopari on his card, as he points to a mitre, thereby 
 signifying — u I wish I had that Bishopric—though I will not be a 
 Bishop, ” the lattar part of the sentance being of course, by his Ma¬ 
 jesty’s Prime Minister to mean anything else in the world than what 
 the words seem to imply. We find in the next verse, that his Sa¬ 
 tanic Majesty and the Broker pay a long-promised visit to the 
 Coffee-room— 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 23 
 
 The Broker bowed to his Consignee, 
 
 And they walked round the Coffee Boom, 
 
 Where Nicholas hounded with boundless glee, 
 
 As he greeted his friends of the loom. 
 
 Yon fat FiJSBOS, dressed in black like me, 
 
 With th’ eye-glass,—I’ll bet you the odds 
 
 That I name him he’s down in my list, d’ye see. 
 
 As C—mb—s, of C—mb—s and T-ds. 
 
 Such a covey I love to look upon 
 In hungry times like these, 
 
 Who’ll roast without basting, for scarcely one 
 Of my imps have time to sneeze, 
 
 Again, we lay down our spectacles, and leaning our elbows on our 
 rm-chair gracefully twist our thumbs round and round each other 
 s we cointemplate, in our mind’s eye, his Satanic Majesty’s chuckle at 
 ae idea of roasting a well-larded firm in their own gravy. But presently 
 perceive his attention must have been diverted from such a juicy anti- 
 ipation, by the strange figure which fell under the beam of his rolling, 
 ye .— 
 
 Then a Hunchback bandy-legged odd-looking fish, 
 
 Who’d been toasting his back at the fire, 
 
 Came up to the Devil, as fond as he’d wish, 
 
 And announced himself “ M—rg....n M—g—re. 
 
 Your old dad, my friend Alick, I trust is quite well, 
 
 Said Nick, adding more to the point ; 
 
 If he brings up such nurslings as you are, for H , 
 
 They will put his own nose out of joint. 
 
 His Majesty, it would appear from the foregoing verse, has too acute 
 b sense of propriety to think of concealing one thought, even though the 
 ixpression of it must unlitate against his own interest. For instance, he 
 airly and above board tells Morgan, that it is bad policy of his father 
 o breed up such nurslings as must eventually put his own nose out of 
 oint in a certain place where he has reserved a snug berth for him. This 
 s, at all events, plain dealing on his Majesty’s part. As to the poet’s 
 illusion to Alick’s nose, we cannot but think it devilish ill-natured, after 
 he step taken at that organ already in the article entitled the Yeomanry 
 Bivouac,” which appeared a month or two back in our glorious and 
 iever _ eno ugh-to-be-admired-and-praised luminary. Nick’s roving eye 
 s again attracted by new objects, and he asks :— 
 
24 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Who are those, my friend Morgan, (Here Morgan 
 look big,) 
 
 Who for half cups of coffee have tost ? 
 
 Whom you twig with the white hat, said he, is 
 James T-: 
 
 Willy K——x is the spoony that lost. 
 
 Old Nick rubbed his hoofs as he chuckled with glee— 
 
 THEY’re here on my tablets—all’s right ! 
 
 When the first hops the twig ’tis a windfall for me * r 
 When K -goes I’ll have him that night. 
 
 That flame-headed Scotsman there, hard at his feed? 
 
 That knowing one? Morgan replied : 
 
 Is it poss ! that the Devil don’t know Peter R -, 
 
 Who’d skin a poor flea for the hide ? 
 
 Peter R-? quoth Old Nick, as he took up his pen. 
 
 He’s here too—I’ve heard of the snob— 
 
 And I swear by the Styx, e’er he go ‘ back again,’ 
 
 He must chum it with me on my hob. 
 
 We learn from several visitors to the Linen-hall Coffee-room, that 
 since the introduction of them into our city, the worthies who frequent 
 the room in question, make it a practice to toss up for half cups in which 
 they fancy they have discovered a specific. We cannot sufficiently ad¬ 
 mire the benevolence of his Majesty, eviuced in the stanza, when ho 
 says, or rather implies, that such is his compassion for Sawney, he would 
 sooner give him share of his own fireside—his own hob, absolutely—than 
 see him reduced to the necessity of “ ganging back again” to the 
 u land of Cakes,” 
 
 Two rum-looking codgers then made their extre — 
 
 My namesakes ! your time’s near its focus, 
 
 Cried Nick, —“ Yes, we’ll shortly drop down to take tea 
 Said N. F-rl—g and Nicholas Br-s. 
 
 Where's Wat N-l-n ? said Nick, “ for I heard,”—with 
 a frown,— 
 
 Prom my Imp, bottle F-s. 
 
 My very good friend had just stepped out of town, 
 
 In dread of the Cholera Morbus ? 
 
 There is something very pathetic in His Majesty’s solicitude about his 
 
 friend, F-s, of bottle-throwing memory, who had lately hopped the 
 
 twig, but had not reached his destination previous to his Majesty’s de¬ 
 parture from his dominions. There is something touching in the appel¬ 
 lation “ very good friend.” The Fourth Part of the Devil’s Walk, 
 concludes thus:— 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 25 
 
 The Devil then turned his back on the Hall, 
 And parted his friends in sorrow— 
 
 But promised them all he would give then a call, 
 If time should permit on the morrow ! 
 
 When we last bad the honour of reviewing this very singular work 
 it will be recollected that we left off just where His Satanic t Majesty was 
 about to take a temporary farewell of his dear children whom he had 
 placed out at nurse in the Linen Hall. In allusion to his parting, the 
 poet says, with all the naivete peculiar to the simple and reverned 
 child of read-a-made-easy versification. Wordsworth :— 
 
 When Old Nick was leaving the Linen Hall, 
 
 He looked back and licked his lips— 
 
 Says he, “ I must soon give another call, 
 
 Then sprung on his tail three skips. 
 
 For a while, my dear children, I hid you adieu, 
 
 He cried, as he faltered farewell! 
 
 But believe me no others so weleome as you 
 Shall be when you come home to Hell. 
 
 Some bowed with hypocrisy, and others looked pale, 
 
 While Nick was preparing to fly 
 
 As he took memorandums, then tucking his tail, 
 
 He cocked up his glass to his eye. 
 
 The poet here, like his great model ef simplicity, Wordsworth, does 
 not scruple making use of the language oi gossip, which, indeed is 
 essential in this kind of heroic measure, because this very gossip gives a 
 vividness to the picture so very like touches of nature. The very licking 
 of His Majeaty’s lips as he looks on his adopted children when about to 
 part from them, conveys, though in homely language, a vivid impress¬ 
 ion of the longing of his soul to have them in his arms on his way 
 home, where he so much wished to have them in safety ranged round his 
 domestic hearth. At first it might appear that there was something un¬ 
 dignified in giving three skips or springs on his tail at the pathic mo¬ 
 ment of parting, but Wordsworth it should be recollected, frequently 
 introduces such little rural incidents merely for the sake of singularity 
 and euphony. But let us proceed to the next stanza, where he tells them 
 that none shall ever be so welcome to his home as they. There is great 
 ingenuity in hinting that His Majesty was such an adept in hypocrisy 
 that he could even falter, not farewell, at this interesting moment, without 
 losing his countenance. - We really do not wonder at some of the lads 
 
26 
 
 THE DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 growing pale, when they saw His Majesty taking memorandums, we ad¬ 
 mire the dandyish air with which he cocked ? ap his glass as he made his 
 exit-bow. Let us now hasten to the description of a short detour he 
 took on his way back to his own dominions :— 
 
 He took a short turn into Green-street, where 
 He kept a depot, called Newgate , 
 
 But he found it so filthy he couldn’t stay there, 
 
 So be instantly made a retreat. 
 
 $ * * * * 
 
 Up Capel-street next he took a walk. 
 
 Musing at what side to range ;— 
 
 By dad, said he, “ I must have some talk 
 
 With my old friends near th’ Exchange, 
 
 Then on to the bridge he poked his phiz ; 
 
 Up Parliament-street strutted strait, 
 
 Till he saw at th* Exchange an acquaintance of his 
 Phil. Lynch, at the Office gate. 
 
 How d’ do, friend Phil. ?” says he, like a nob. 
 
 Pretty well.” says Phil., quite civil, 
 
 (For Phil, was thinking of getting a job, 
 
 And never once dreamt of the Devil,) 
 
 Into the Office Phil, led “ the lad,” 
 
 With the greatest propriety, 
 
 When His Majesty aoon recognized his ©Id " Dad” 
 Of Triangle notoriety. 
 
 Oh, Father l” says Nick, stretching forth his hand 
 To his “Dad,” on the judgement-seat, 
 
 I’m just called to see you before I leave town, 
 
 In remembrance of Ninety-eight. 
 
 When the Major had been accosted thus, 
 
 In a hell of a passion he flew! 
 
 Come—come, says Old Nick, “ no more of your fess, 
 You must soon give the Devil his due. 
 
 At this “ his Honour” began to quake— 
 
 The “ harpies” around all stared— 
 
 Then rushed upon Nick a prisoner to make. 
 
 But their victim had disappeared j 
 
 ’Twas but a dream l the Major cried. 
 
 As he gave his breast three knocks : 
 
 That it was a dream old Darley denied— 
 
 But ’twus proved upon oath by Cox. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 27 
 
 So, peace being restored, they ruled the books^ 
 
 But trembled at every stir— 
 
 While death and his victims were in the looks 
 Of the crest-fullen Major — ! 
 
 Here there is a kind of of hiatus in the progress of th e poem and 
 we may stop a moment to pass a few remarks on the subject matter. Lt 
 was really very natural that His Santanic Majesty should s te P # i nto his 
 depot at Newgate, but finding it worse than Hell itself in filthiness, we 
 do'not wonder at the precipitancy of his retreat. The line asterisks 
 which follows this stanza, indicates that several verses are left out, the 
 fact is, those verses were descriptive of his visit to the Sheriffs Court, 
 where he had found a case at issue in which the Comet was to he the 
 victim, and, as that case is yet undecided, we think it right to postpone 
 these verses for the present. The next stanza describe this devil of a 
 dandy, His Satanic Majesty, strutting down Capel Street, up Parliament 
 Street, and over to the “ Head Office.” His chuckle at seeing his friend 
 Phil, is finely, glanced at. and in the true spirit of Wordsworth. The 
 reverence which is due from one inferior in his trade to a master-spirit, is 
 uobly pourtrayed in the picture of His Majesty crying out “ Oh Father !” 
 with the profound respect due to superiority, as he stretches forth his 
 hand to “the Major,” and reminds him of the Sports of Ninety-eight. 
 It is somewhat surprising that his Honor did not take this as a compli¬ 
 ment but not hnving done so seems to have given His Majesty offence, 
 for he instantly remarks, with an evident sneer, “you must soon give 
 the Devil his due !” What immediately follows is so well described in 
 the poem itself, that we need not here repeat it, however, we cabnot pass 
 over the circumstance of his Honor’s last shift to cheat the Devil of his 
 own. by turning Roman, —and giving his breast “ three knocks ” to an- 
 ! nonnee his conversion even in the twelfth hour to all he ever held hateful 
 | but which now, in his last extremity, he felt to be his only chance of es¬ 
 cape irom the snares of Hell, and the claims of the Devil. After this 
 act of grace’,” his Honor seems inspired with fresh hopes, and he tries 
 to persuade himself that His Majesty’s call was but a dream. However 
 Alderman Darley is too well acquainted with His Majesty’s ways but to 
 know every hands-turn of his, so he tries to undeceive his brother-justice 
 out is suddenly interrupted by “ Hoky Poky. King of the Cannibal 
 Islands.” The haste and trembling of the parties as they rule the books 
 —the cholera looks of the Major—and the note of admiration after the 
 :)lack word that ought to rhyme with “ stir,” are all finely conceived, 
 The next stanzas are descriptive of His Santanic Majesty’s progress 
 if ter giving the “ harpies” of the Head Office the slip : 
 
28 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Old Nick had. meantime, throught the roof taken flight, 
 And landed in Dame-street, all sound— 
 
 But, feeling the edge of a keen appetite, 
 
 The Commercial, quoth he. is my ground. 
 
 I promised Matt Waller I’d give him a call 
 Next time I should come, without fail 
 So now I will go and order a grill. 
 
 With a basin of real ‘ ox-tail/ 
 
 Thus Nick was determined on keeping his word— 
 
 A thing we don’t frequently see 
 That his children, the Parsons, can always afford—• 
 
 He arrived at “the Buildings” precisely at three 
 
 This hour he chose as the best time to meet 
 All his friends in the mercantile line, 
 
 So into the coffee-room strutted he straight, 
 
 And got some ox-tail—which was prime. 
 
 Dear Matthew,” said Nick, '‘I am glad you are well 
 And the Cholera Morbus so rifte— 
 
 Matt looked very blank—for he thought of young- 
 
 And the last sad affair with his, 
 
 Just beside them there stood a very large man, 
 
 With his hat drawn over his face , 
 
 Said Matt, “ He’s a friend of the patriot, Dan, 
 
 Who’s the pride of the human race. 
 
 But pray, who are those with their backs to the wall— 
 Two innocent youths ;—are they not ? 
 
 The one is R. G-„ you know, late of the Hall; 
 
 The other—the call him S—m S-. 
 
 Some business now calling poor W. away, 
 
 He said “ He’d be back very soon.” 
 
 Very well, said His Majesty, “ hurry, I pray, 
 
 Ere the close of the afternoon, 
 
 The Devil he walked to the end of the room, 
 
 And meeting with A—-E-, 
 
 Inquired for his son, the renowned dandy Tom, 
 
 And how he took care of the “ pennies.” 
 
 Quite well, thank you,—how is O’C-? 
 
 He’s a man that I always wished well. 
 Convalescent, quoth Nick, and, I give you my honour, 
 The pleasantest fellow in- 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 29 
 
 See ! Here comes the man they call hundred per cent 
 Who knows how to play the sure game : 
 
 You can read in his visage the words ' Monet Lent,— 
 My son-? says Nick, “Yes—the same.” 
 
 Here Matt coming up, put an end to the talk, 
 
 Saying, “ Nick, I have now leisure time 
 To show you the Club-room—up stairs let us walk— 
 Nick went with him humming a rhyme. 
 
 At the hall-door they met Billy S-, alone— 
 
 Of course with his hands in his pockets— 
 
 And just at the stairs their good friend J. H-•, 
 
 And B—b T-y, the striker of dockets. 
 
 Oh, oh ! master Bob—so you’re here—says Old Nick; 
 
 To visit me soon in your turn— 
 
 I greatly admire that neat little trick 
 
 You played off on T-and B-— 
 
 They went up the stairs and came to the door 
 Of the Club-room, then walked in and sat— 
 
 Old Nick shook hands with his chum, Major G-> 
 
 And on the pay list had some chat. 
 
 Pray, Major, says he, u now can you explain 
 How r some people do cut a dash, 
 
 With spurs, boots, and whiskers, and even gold chain ? 
 Here he threw a sheep’s eye at poor-- 
 
 Indeed, said the Major, “ you puzzle my head— 
 
 An answer, I scarcely can give— 
 
 Unless, well assisted bv old Major Spread, 
 
 The Captain’s enabled to live. 
 
 Have you, Sir, says G, ever heard of the brother, 
 
 The Parson, who’s now up in town ? 
 
 Oh, yes, quoth Old Nick, “ both the one and the other 
 Are dear to my heart as my own, 
 
 Here His Majesty looked at his w'atch, and remarked. 
 That “ his friend Waller had asked him to dine ; 
 And as it was nearly five, he would step 
 To the billiard-room for r short time. 
 
 The Captain was just at the end of a match, 
 
 And had every chance of being winner—• 
 
 Nick left his respects for his friend, Captain N-, 
 
 As he heard the bell ringing for dinner. 
 
30 
 
 THE DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 We must leave Hie Satanic Majesty at his regal repast for the 
 present, as we find we cannot devote more space just now to our re¬ 
 view" of this highly interesting work. If circumstances do so pre¬ 
 vent us returning to that part of the poem which^has been left out, 
 where the asterisks mark the hiatus, we may promise our readers a 
 treat in reviewing His Majesty's visit to the Sheriffs’ Court, 
 
 The blue flume flicker’d o’er the stagnant lake, 
 
 And daylight glimmer’d on high, 
 
 When Charon gave Nick a hell of a shake, 
 
 And begg’d that his Highness would quickly awake, 
 
 Or his boat would lie soon high and dry. 
 
 Last night, cried Charon, “ you hid me take care 
 And rouse you hv dawn of day, 
 
 You said that to Dublin you meant to repair: 
 
 Tor all kind of gagging is going on there— 
 
 At least so the new comers say. 
 
 There’s the new registration— a superfine gag. 
 
 As ever was heard of before. 
 
 Your Highness, I know, is a bit of a wag— 
 
 Serve your notice—and thus you’ll increase the tag-rag, 
 
 By giving them one Devil more. 
 
 Besides, an election to day will take place 
 (’Twill amuse you, I know, very well,) 
 
 Tor an Alderman—one of that gluttonous race— 
 
 In the room of Sir Kobert, who first show’d his face 
 Last Saturday se’nnight in H-ll. 
 
 Oh ! ho ! cried the Devil, “ get ready your boat, 
 
 I’ll not miss a civic election , 
 
 Get my hat and my wig. and my flame-coloured coat. 
 
 I’ll button it snugly-close up to my throat, 
 
 And I think I shall baffle detection. 
 
 Soon he donn’d all his duds, and adjusted his wig, 
 
 Which cover’d his horns, by-the by . 
 
 And his long pantaloons, of the new Cossack rig, 
 
 Serv’d to cover his feet, split like those of a pig— 
 
 His tail he strapp’d under his thigh. 
 
 Then over the Styx in a jiffey they flew : 
 
 That Charon’s tip-top crack sculler, 
 
 Old Nick quite poiiteiy then bid him adieu, 
 
 And found himself snug, in a, minute or two, 
 
 In the shop of one Mr. Seemuller. 
 
31 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Here the flame were so hot. ancl the smoke was so thick 
 And so bois’rous and loud was the mirth, 
 
 By the law ! quoth the Devil, as he ran away quick: 
 This place, on my oath, would e’en smother Old Nick— 
 It is surely a hell upon earth. 
 
 And yet, after all, ’tis an excellent joke, 
 
 For those boys, ere they come down to me, 
 
 Will be so well accustom’d to blazes and smoke, 
 Galloping down stairs upon charcoal and coke, 
 
 Will be but amusement, 1 see. 
 
 Next into the Royal Arcade Old Nick pops, 
 
 (A place he had ne’er been in yet,) 
 
 When lo ! and behold ! inside one of the shops 
 He saw an old friend, in mahogany tops, 
 
 Making love to a little grizette, 
 
 Ah ! Charley, my boy, still you keep up the game, 
 Cried the Devil, exulting with glee ; 
 
 Tis now forty years since to see you I came, 
 
 And much I rejoice to perceive you the same 
 That you were in the year ninety-three. 
 
 He passed. At the corner of Church-lane he met 
 A figure extremely outre, 
 
 With one eye which never had seen day-light yet, 
 
 And a match for the other you seldom could get 
 Such a nondescript fellow was he. 
 
 Cried the Devil, “ I certainly know that chap’s rniz, 
 And somewhere have met with the same ; 
 
 Though a d—d diabolical mazzard it is. 
 
 Yet I know by his eye he’s a bit of a qui z— 
 
 Hollo ! my fine fellow, your name ? 
 
 My name ! cried the covey ; sure every one knows 
 ’Tis the same as my dadd’s, poor man ! 
 
 And his, rest his soul! was the same. I suppose, 
 
 As my grandfather’s—Now, my old buck, with the nose, 
 Pray tell me my name if you can. 
 
 No gammon, cried Hoofy, “come, lend me your ear ; 
 
 (He whispers) “ my name is Old Nick ; 
 
 Aren’t you Paddy Kelly ?” Cried Paddy, “ Oh dear ! 
 In the name of Saint Patrick, Sir, what brought you here 
 However, you’re welcome, avick. 
 
 Said the Old Boy, “ now Paddy, I know you can tell 
 What fun’s going on in the town, 
 
 For nothing takes place that you’re not up to well, 
 
 And we’ve heard even down in the bottom of h— 
 
 Of your wonderful fame and renown. 
 
32 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS THROUGH DUBLIN. 
 
 Here mark the effect of conscience that makes cowards of us all 
 Soon at the “well-known voice he hears,” it strikes Lavender, that like 
 York “ he’s wanting,” and he instantly steps forward, the willing 
 “ minister,” and “ servant,” as he styles himself, to do his master’s bid¬ 
 ding, but no, his services are not required. 
 
 My trusty and well beloved Counsellor, Dick, 
 
 Persevere in your course, as of late ; 
 
 Eor your hitherto conduct, believe me, Old Nick, 
 
 On the part of all h-11, if in town he’d get tig, 
 
 Would give you—a service of plate. 
 
 Here in the very language of Soverigns to their Privy Counsellors, 
 does the Devil address Lavender, his trusty and well beloved counsellor— 
 what an intimate footing they are on ! He highly approves, too, of his 
 general conduct in which he desires him to persevere, and declares on the! 
 part of all hell, (we think this too severe) that his service should be re¬ 
 munerated with a service of plate. This we consider a satrical allusion 
 to the various pieces of plate given by the Corporation to several of its 
 officers ; for instance, a tea-pot to Shy Tighe Gregory, a bread-basket to 
 Judkin Butler, with many others. The applicatian of the word tic, in 
 connexion with these circumstances, speaks for itself, 
 
 Oh ! Sir Edmond ! old blubber ! how gets on your farm 
 Come,—your hand to your truest friend give ! 
 
 Excuse, my dear Sir, the unusual alarm. 
 
 Sir knight, quoth the Devil, “I’ll do you no harm, 
 
 Whilst you set the Jack-ass you may live ! 
 
 Poor Blubberam Ballyough, No-gent, thinks his last hour is 
 come; and is so struck of a heap that he is even unable to shake hands 
 with him who styles himself his truest friend. But Old Nick to give 
 him courage, promises him a very, very long tenure of his life; viz. as 
 long as he continues the same Old Jack-ass he is. 
 
 Who’s that chap in the chair, Pat, with hammer in hand 
 No dandy in Dublin looks finer ; 
 
 Who rules them as it by the word of command— 
 
 Sit down there. “Hats off”— “if you shan’t, I be 
 d-d” 
 
 Oh, that’s the New Sherff, one L-r. 
 
 Here our new military Sheriff gets a rap over the knuckles, for our 
 own part, we think their honors require an occasional rebuke—their 
 manners are certainly not of the Chesterfield Schaol—but we do not 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 33 
 
 jhink they like to be drilled like so many raw recruits, at the same time 
 ihat we admire the fortiter in ra Commanding officer, we recommend 
 n intermixture of the Suaviter in Modo Fortiter in Re 
 
 I 
 
 And who is that ill looking hard featured hound 
 With face of the hue of a live— 
 
 Standing close by the door with his eyes on the grouud 
 As if shunning the gaze of those standing around, 
 
 Oh [ that fellow’s name is Nick Shiver I !! 
 
 Vhat a vivid and not-to-be-mistaken description of the ci deyant 
 kewer-maker is here. Like Cataline, he is nnable to look any honest 
 r upright man in the face. His situatioa here is perfectly correct— 
 kulking near the door. Were he to advauce he*d be kicked out by 
 ,'PCleery, or ordered out by his friend the Sheriff. 
 
 Our space will not permit us to make further quotations at present 
 *om the entertaining poem now before us, the description of Paddy 
 nd the Devil going together to the new Aldermans Dinner, their getting 
 loriously drunk, the Tom and Jerry exploits they performed, aud tho 
 ,um places Paddy introduced his Majesty into, though laughable in the 
 xtreme, we must pastpone until our next. 
 
 Want of space compelled us in our last most impolitely to interrupt 
 [is Satanic Majesty’s dialogue with our friend Paddy Kelly, which as 
 r e promised, we continue in our present number. The scene, it will be 
 ^collected, is had in the City Assembly Rooms, William Street, where 
 leir Honors are met together to elect an Alderman, in the room of the 
 ite Sir Robert Harry—the old gentleman from below, being anx- 
 >us to become personally acquainted with them ail, resumes his Inter- 
 ogatories to our friend Paddy, as follows, to which, it will be observed 
 le latter gives him all the information in his power :— 
 
 That group in the shabby white hats, who are they ? 
 
 I know some of their faces right well. 
 
 They’re Scarlett, Old Gobbs, and Mountiford Hay- 
 
 Dick Charles, Old Bentley ; I’ll venture to say 
 There’e not a neater quintetto in H— 
 
 And who is that tub-o’-guts there in the wig, 
 
 Who looks something like the late King ; 
 
 I mean George the Fourth...he who ran such a r 
 
 As made him detested by Tory and Whig ? 
 
 Oh ! that, my dear Sir’s, Billy King. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS THROUGH DUBLIN. 
 
 You’re pleased, Sir, to flatter—I find that you are. 
 
 Says Paddy, his dexter eye bright’nmg ; 
 
 And now, my old gentleman, step on this car, 
 
 If you wish to see value you needn’t go far , 
 
 Drive to William-street, jarvey, like lightning. 
 
 As they went—Paddy told him that this was the day 
 An alderman must be elected , 
 
 Joe Lamprey and Taylor are rivals, they say, 
 
 Tho’ the chosen will have near six hundred to pay, 
 
 Yet a ‘ tooth and nail’ contest’s expected. 
 
 They stopt—went up stairs—and were shown to a seat 
 J _(The Devil himself was grown weary,) 
 
 Bv a queer little man with a well-powder’d pate— 
 
 Why, Pat, cries Old Nick, “ may I ne’er see he-1 s gate 
 it that’s not my cousin, M‘C1 ry. 
 
 The Devil’s immediate recognition of Davy M 4 Cleery here, cer 
 tainly seems to imply a previous acquaintance; perhaps Davy was th 
 person alluded to in the old song, which says, 
 
 And the Devil ran away with the little tailor, 
 
 With the broad-cloth under his arm, &c. 
 
 Bnt why old Nick should call him cousin, is above our comprehensiot 
 unless he being the aforesaid little tailoe, while sojournmg^with ^ 
 infernal majesty, might have contracted an alliance w'th 
 sooty-faced cousins, and thus became related to him by makriaue. 
 
 <Tis nobody else, my dear Sir. In the room 
 
 Of Dick Q-n, he now bears the mace ; 
 
 Poor Dick! you know nothing of him, I presume, 
 
 Down stairs ? “ Oh no, Paddy, ms merited doom 
 
 Was above, in a much better place. 
 
 This indeed is a compliment to our excellent deceased frien^ 
 whose whole life was one of integrity and rectitude, and who conseq 
 
 ran no danger of coming within the scope or knowledge of the ma 
 
 gentleman— ?Poor Sit R-b-tH-y, if w. believe Charon's assertion in .1 
 fourth verse, went as the song says, “the other way. 
 
 Now pale and affrighted Dick Lavender stands, 
 
 As that voice so well known strikes his ear, 
 
 What seek you, mv Lord, at your mimsttrs hands ( 
 
 My Sovereign master, but speak your comman ?, 
 
 T‘obey them, your servant is here. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 35 
 
 Who‘« that with the frill of his shirt sticking out— 
 
 Keeps running about up ami down ? 
 
 I think I have somewhere before seen his snout 
 In some <>f my rambles. You have, I don't doubt, 
 
 For that's Mr. Authony Brown? 
 
 Who's that with the dirty shirt, stockings, and shoes. 
 
 Near the door? Tliat‘s M‘Mullen the baker 
 And that tallow-faced bucko who’s reading the news, 
 
 \V itii a sin vej-leaf’d hat, like old Isaac the Jew's, 
 
 Is one brother Hutton, a Quaker. 
 
 Odds / calf's-head and pluck ! who's that chap with 
 the tace 
 
 4s red as a big wat’ring pot ? 
 
 He's so well envelop'd iu blubbes and grease, 
 
 He'll serve to baste othojs below in my place. 
 
 That's Thompson the butcher and sot. 
 
 Ah ha ! quoth Old Nick, if I'm not much astray, 
 
 I see our old friend Tommy Tit ; 
 
 I must pay him a visit ere I go away „• 
 
 Pray has lie aemoved from the shop ou the Quay ? 
 
 Qoth Paddy, the Devil a bit ? 
 
 He has lately got married of course you may guess, 
 
 Laid in a large stock of new fur ; 
 
 So when you go visit, you cannot do less 
 Than ask for the mistress, ‘tis mere politeness, 
 
 And pay your obedience to her. 
 
 ’Twould be useless as well as unentertaining to occupj the time of 
 n* readers in pernsing the questions and answers put to, and answered 
 f Paddy, and the shrewd and devilish keen remarks made by the 
 ibtle querist upon this talanted and wealthy body, composed of the 
 ‘presentatives of the various guilds in this, the second city in the 
 npme! Suffice it is to say that Ellison the Trimmer —Lawrence the 
 handler —Fearon the Sab —Scott the M.P.—Sisson the Thersitus, 
 jc., &c., all came in for their share. However, the election proceeds— 
 doyd, Long, Larnphrey and Taylor,are sent down by the Blood, the 
 j.vb former resign and tlieother two been rival candidates, begin to 
 Inke speeches, as usual, upon which we proceed:— 
 
 And who are those two, my dear Paddy, cried Nick, 
 
 Going ou with such spouting and prating ? 
 
 They're both of them talking of giving a pick ; 
 
 Do you thiuk they'll be apt to invite us quick — 
 
 If not, what's the use of our waiting ? 
 
36 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 The only tiling worthy of observation heie is. the Devil’s phraseo¬ 
 logy, of giving a pick, one would think he was an old corporate him¬ 
 self he is so wall up to the cauadjetties of them Staff! staff! staff ! is 
 their motto—their bellies aretheir gods, at whose shrine, faith, friendship, 
 and feeling, are so frequently and shamefully sacrificed, In this, how¬ 
 ever, we feel proud in stating one splendid exception took place recently, 
 viz : in the Corporation of Tailors; on that occasion,, though tailors 
 they acted like men, and triumphly elected Mr. Saker who was supported 
 by all the rank and respectability of the guild, iu opposition to his rival 
 Baker, whose meagre constituents had free quarters, and the run of 
 Morrison’s kitchen. 
 
 Speak aisy, Child Boy ! or they‘11 hear you, cried Pat, 
 
 And outside-theodoor you must go. 
 
 That greasyy-faced fellow, all blubber and fat, 
 
 Whb‘8 wiping his nose in his dirty cravat, 
 
 Is Lamprey the cutler—that's Joe, 
 
 That other bluff fellow, with rubicund nose, 
 
 Standing up next to Scott the Repeater— 
 
 Who‘s sorely afflicted with gout in bis toes— 
 
 Loves his lass and his bottle, as every one knows, 
 
 And*s an old friend of mine—Captain Taylor. 
 
 The balloting commences, and the issue is doubtful—when the 
 Devil perceives his old friend John Claudius Beresford. in the back 
 gronnd. ’Tis needless so say that an immediate and friendly recognition 
 takes place between the two worthies. 
 
 Ha ! Claudius, my boy, quoth the Devil, elate, 
 
 ‘Tis uow many years since we met, 
 
 When we wallop'd the Papists the year Ninety-eight 
 And done so much service to Church and to State— 
 
 Eh / Jack, willy ou ever forget ? 
 
 Ah ! those were the real good times, my dear Nick 
 Indeed, I remember them v ell ; 
 
 But what could induce you tc take a short stick 
 In your fist, and come here; are the young Devils sick ? 
 
 Or the cholera gone down to II—1 ? 
 
 Not at all—not at all ; hut the times were so dull, 
 
 And the weather so warm under ground— 
 
 Ev‘ry corner down stairs being with tithe-proctors full 
 0‘er the Styx I made Charon just give me a pull— 
 
 And I landed here beany and sound. 
 
THE DEVIL-S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 37 
 
 And tell me, dear chum of my youth, cried long Jack 
 How left you my friends all below ? 
 
 Hoes Toler his jests and his bottle still crack ?— 
 
 Remember me to him, Sir, when you go back : 
 
 Quoth the Devil—I surely will so. 
 
 si 
 
 Rut can’t you go with me ?—your time’s nearly come, 
 
 ’Tis not worth your while here to stay : 
 
 Poor Jack, as a stutue, was instantly dumb, 
 
 At last stammer’d he, with a ba, and a hum, 
 
 Lord bless me, Sir, w—what's that you say ? 
 
 [ 
 
 If you take my advice. for"a few short years more 
 Your Highness will leave me alone ; 
 
 Not a year of my life but I‘11 send you a score— 
 
 Nay, give me but time, and I‘ll people the shore 
 Ot Lethe—with friends of my own. 
 
 Say, have you yet heard down in H—11 of a Club 
 Called Conservation—held in this town'? 
 
 To be sure—it has kick d up the devil’s hubbub ; 
 
 But, prithee, what of it ? said Jack, there’s the rub ; 
 
 Now, whisper—may hold your ear down. 
 
 Here a long and confidential discourse takes place between the 
 Devil and the Alderman, but in so low a tone, that even Paddy who was 
 istening arrectis auribus, couldn’t ascertain its import, However, the 
 purden of it, we imagine, was the Conservative Society, and whatever 
 communication the Alderman was making relative to it, seems to tickle 
 Tie old gentleman’s fancy prodigiously, for, ever and anon, he chuckled 
 most immoderately; and, slapping the Alderman on the back, frequently 
 exclaimed—“ Bravo, John !—Bravo, my son ! At length he concludes 
 n the following sentimental strain :— 
 
 I watch'd thee', I knew thee, from infancy’s dawn, 
 
 To the days of^thy.manhood; my son ; 
 
 A servant most faithful I‘ve found thee, dear Shawn ; 
 
 Aud tho’ once or twice you've been on the shaughraun 
 And H EREAFTER _B11 show yousome fun. 
 
 This election, to-day, Jack, how will it go on ? 
 
 Which shall Lampry or Taylor get in ? 
 
 Said Jack—My dear Sir, I'll bet two pounds to one— 
 
 Your moneys as good as another's—say done : 
 
 That Lamprey's Ahe man who shall win 
 
 We’ve settled it all above stairs ; look you here / 
 
 You'll soon get a visit from Joe ? 
 
 So, ere he sets out on his travels, my dear, 
 
 Which we all think will be ‘bout the end of the year. 
 
 We must pin his six hundred, you know. 
 
38 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Admirably explained. Here is the whole secret of the election. It 
 costs the successful candidate for the Aldermanic gown six hundred 
 pounds. The candidates are Messrs. Lamprey 'and Taylor, the former 
 of whom is much the elder in years, and in a very delicate state of health 
 By all means elect him, is the cry, let us get the money and feeding out 
 of him before he goes.— Taylor is a sure trick at any time, but let us also 
 make sure of Lamprey before he slips his wind. Thus it is all settled 
 above stairs (that is among the Aldermen,) and the hard wordis instantly 
 communicated to “ tbeir Honors ” the Commons below. Long John’s 
 reasons for giving Lamprey the preference on the present occasion, 
 were so strong, that the Devil immediately coincided with him, and used 
 all his secret influence to secure Joe’s election—and successfully. A few 
 days previous to this election, Taylor was asked by a friend, “ What 
 chance he had f’—to whom he replied. Why, if the Devil stands 
 
 neutor, 1 think I’ll be elected,” The election now terminates, and Lam- 
 rey is declared duly elected, and invites them all to dine with him at 
 Morrison’s. Ere theybreak up John Claudius shakes the Devil by the 
 hand. 
 
 I told yon, my friend, what would be the event, 
 That Lamprey would sure be the winner ; 
 
 I now must be off,—but first, ere he went, 
 
 He hoped there should nothing occur to prevent 
 His meeting his Highness at dinner. 
 
 Beresford goes away, and Paddy, who had disappeared during the 
 foregoing conversation, now returns. The Devil asks him where he had 
 gone to, and tells him he wanted to introduce Jiim to his friend, the Al¬ 
 derman. Paddy begs to be excused, for reasons best kuown to himself, 
 but at which we may make a pretty good guess, from the two next 
 verses:— 
 
 Believe me, I don’t like a bone in his skin, 
 
 I say‘t not thro’ hatred or malice ; 
 
 But whenever I look on his figure so thin, 
 
 I've a mighty odd feel ‘twixt my leg and my chin— 
 Eaith he puts me in mind of the gallows. 
 
 In the year minety-eight, just for taking the part 
 Of my friends, upon Vinegar Hill.— 
 
 That very same chap had me tied to a cart— 
 
 My back even now, ‘pem my soul, feels the smart,— 
 Sweet bad luck to him, go where he will. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 39 
 
 % 
 
 Paddy and the old chap leave the Assembly House arm in arm. 
 The Devil declares he’s dying with thirst, after been stuck up in that 
 
 d-dhole so long, and wants to know where he’ll get a good drink. 
 
 Leave that to me, says Paddy, 44 I’ll bring you where you’ll get one that 
 will warm the cockles of your heart,” so 'with a good deal of persuasion 
 he gets him as far as Mrs. Kearney’s fruit-shop, in Dame-street. 
 
 They both walk'd inside and sat down in the shop, 
 Said Fatty pray what will yon take ? 
 
 I've good ginger beer, and I've excellent pop, 
 
 Or will you take soda ? the devil a drop *, 
 
 Two doctor's let’s have in a shake. 
 
 Phiz, phiz, pop, pop, pop, Ma'am you‘11 wet all my 
 clothes. 
 
 There, stir it a little bit quicker ; 
 
 Paddy laughed when he saw the old chap dip his no^e 
 In the froth—quoth the Devil come Paddy, here goes 
 Im d-d but it‘s capital liquor. 
 
 It's my turn now—let’s have two glasses more 
 Like the last, and pray make them as well ; 
 
 And here are two shillings, do you ever give score, 
 
 I never drank these things called doctors before, 
 
 Tho’ I've heard of them often in- 
 
 The Devil is evidently getting a little cock’d with the good drink 
 and, forgetting where he is, he nearly “ let’s the cat out of the bag.’ 
 Paddy is in a great fright lest he should 44 sell the pass.”—The Doctors 
 here alluded to by the Devil, are the two legg’d doctors, who are heard of 
 everywhere. 
 
 You’ll ruin us all by the powers, says Pat; 
 
 Why, I ne'er saw you this way before ; 
 
 You be d—d, cried the Devil—pray what are you at, 
 
 I beg Mr Kelly you 11 muzzle your chat, 
 
 Fatty Kearney, bring two doctors more, 
 
 In vain does Paddy remonstrate—in vain does he remind him of the 
 new Alderman’s dinner, Doctor after Doctor is bronght in and vanishes 
 —Fatty is astonished—Paddy winks at her not to bring in any more— 
 but there’s 44 no catching old birds with chaff,” he must get the drink, and 
 sings to the air of “Kate Kearney — 
 
 i 
 
40 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 The doctors bring in, Fatty Kearney, 
 
 And never mind that feilow‘s blarney, 
 Como, I’ll wager a bet— 
 
 Such a drink you’ll not get 
 If you search from Ringsend to Killarney. 
 
 Oh give me the tumbler when quite full, 
 Its sparkling contents are delightful, 
 
 Hock and soda appear 
 To me like small beer, 
 
 Compared to a doctor of Kearney’s. 
 
 At length he gets devilish drunk, his hat and wig fall off and 
 exposed his Horns to the horrified Mrs. Kearney. Paddy pacifies her 
 by assuring her it was only her neighbour Mr, Waller, and taking the 
 old gentleman on his back, he carries him down to College Street Police 
 Office, and leaves him in charge of the constable of the night, where we 
 shall also bid him farewell for the present. 
 
 We perceive that his Satanic Majesty has again taken a fancy for 
 a stroll in the fresh air of our upper regions; and we have here a sketch 
 of his rambles, with notes on men and things in general, for the Devil 
 himself can keep nothing from our Argus eyes. Our Chronicle com¬ 
 mences :— 
 
 Says the Devil one day, as be indolent lay 
 On his couch, in the parlour below, 
 
 Tis a long time since I, took to Dublin a fly, 
 
 (For aeyils can fly, you must know.) 
 
 I will get up and dress in the fashion’s excess, 
 
 And strut ’mongst the gags of the town, 
 
 I will wear my black coat, button’d up to the throat, 
 
 My hat with the Anglesey crown. 
 
 The graphic ease with which the Old Boy is represented reclining 
 on a couch—a patent asbestos one, we conclude—and the careless air 
 he assumes, when he covers his frontal ornaments with an Anglesey 
 tile, is quite in the style of an accomplished Courtier. In the fol¬ 
 lowing stanzas we are introduced to the principal personages of the 
 Drama; our readers may feel somewhat astonished at the intimate 
 footing which seems to subsist between our friend P. and the little 
 gentleman in black; but we can assure them that the Devil is not, by 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 41 
 
 any means, a disreputable looking swell on town, with his switch-tail 
 gracefully tucked under his arm, and hishoofies cased in a pair of super¬ 
 latively well-polished Wellingtons : besides, as he has been so long ac¬ 
 customed to the s ciety of the black gentry at his own family fire-side, 
 he has acquired a certain air of hypocritical sanctity, which would pass 
 muster in Tim’s back parlour, for a Conservative of the deepest dye. 
 
 As the devil he came from the regions of flame, 
 
 Where black lads, like locust, do swarm, 
 
 He walk’d on the street, and who should he meet, 
 
 But J. P., who gave him his arm, 
 
 Most puissant devil ! thou author of evil, 
 
 Said, J. P., “ Pray, how do you do 
 
 Oh ! I’m tranquil, says Nick, “and my own little chick 
 Pm happy at meeting with you. 
 
 For I now will review all the gags, and if you 
 Aint engag’d come with me I pray, 
 
 As we pass down the street, I will name all we meet, 
 
 And to you their follies display. 
 
 This reminds us of the showman’s programme—step along, step 
 along , all alive ; oh, here you shall see the most wonderfullest hannimals 
 in the vorld and in good sooth, we have some strange animals ranging 
 through our city ; but let us see what follows 
 
 Our J. P. acquies’d and most warmly express’d 
 His thanks for the kind offer made. 
 
 So together they walk’,d and familiarly talk’d 
 
 As through Dame Street, they arm in arm stray’d 
 
 Who the blazes is this with mahogany phiz 
 With roquelare blue, and eye-glass. 
 
 Nick answered, “beware, he will hear you, tis C_y, 
 
 Dont ask me their names till they pass 
 
 Who’s this old pelters here, with the impudent leer? 
 
 And the shooting frock of dark green, 
 
 With the brass spurs his boot on”—hush ! ’tis Colonel 
 N-n. 
 
 Worn out in the service I ween” 
 
 I’ve a warm spot for him, when his life’s lamp burns 
 dim,’’’ 
 
 Said Old Nick, as his eyes grew bright : 
 
 He’ll leave women and wine, to be mine, to be mine— 
 He‘ll give up all earthly delight. 
 
42 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 By the way the Devil is a gentleman, he does not wish to harm his 
 pets by invidious remarks—delieate, considerate soul. How accurately 
 he describes the old militaire; he seems to chuckle over him as a goure- 
 \nand would do over a bonne bouche, which he has reserved for his 
 )wn individual picking. 
 
 Here comes Captain E-, he knows what a Hell is 
 
 And is up to all kinds of sport : 
 
 Where’s he going to-day ?—I suppose ’tis to play, 
 
 At Fool with the spoons in the Court. 
 
 When his last life is won —when the purchase is 
 gone. 
 
 And the fount of his heart has ran dry, 
 
 He’ll come to my home where, no billiards or games 
 are, 
 
 So now let us bid him good bye. 
 
 9 
 
 As the arch fiend thus spoke, J. F. thought he’d choke 
 With laughter at one who pass’d near : 
 
 What‘s his name ?—the reply was, don‘t you kown 
 Shy Tighe, 
 
 Who looks sentimentally queer 
 
 The Devil must be a clever fellow, if the Captain does not blink him- 
 we would take the long odds, and that is a leg of mutton to a turnip, 
 that our cousin* Nick will meet his match at any go, from pitch-and- 
 toss to hazard, when the Captain gets into his quarters, 
 
 Our poet, in the next verse, performs the work of supererogation, 
 which Shakespeare happily compares to throwing “ fresh perfume o’er 
 the violet,” why did he not allow the ambitious little man 
 
 “ To blush unseen, 
 
 “ And waste his sweetness on the desert air.” 
 
 Here comes old Major with his waistcoat so red 
 His hunter and leopard skin coat, 
 
 He’s a sportsman I ween, said old Nick with a grin, 
 
 By my sowl on such fellows I doat, 
 
 Here’s Felican Cooper he will have no loop or— 
 
 Hole to escape me, quoth Nick, 
 
 With his coach and four now. to the devil he’ll go, 
 
 Thrue for you (the reply was) avick ! 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 43 
 
 We fancy we behold in our mind’s eye, this pair of originals in the 
 Tartarean dominions, Cooper on his drag, driving to visit the harem of 
 frail young faries, and the Major on his grey charger, following a drag- 
 bunt, on the rife scent of Shy Tighe’s canonicals through the blind alleys 
 and back lanes of the Stygian metropolis. 
 
 They are both friends of mine, and together we’ll dine 
 By and by down in hell never fear, 
 
 But talking of dinner, said Nick I’m a sinner, 
 
 But I think that my hour draws near. 
 
 Aye. 
 
 When he to sulphnrious and tormenting flames 
 Nust render up his ghost. 
 
 This is the conclusion of the sentence f which as a palpable interpo¬ 
 sition from Hamlet, but the natural transition from the fine worm- 
 a ear ted emulition of kindly feeling exhibited by his Majesty, in the can- 
 lid acknowledgement, “ They are both friends of mine,” to the more 
 argent consideration of the approaching dinner-hour, is particularly 
 triking and perfectly original. We have a few more stanzas, in which 
 he Devil lets our friend into the mysteries of his bill of fare—but we think 
 hem too lengthy, and liable to induce a depraved appetite amongst our 
 •eaders, some of which might be tempted to try a few recipes by way 
 >f a relish. What for instance, could be more piquant than the jowl 
 >f a fat prelate fried in sulphur, served up in lava—and garnished with 
 ithe pigs tails ?—or a Scotch collop^ stuffed with cant and humbug, 
 ashed a la Show ? But the particular dish which excited on that day 
 he anxiety of the Satanic gastroome, was a spicy ragout composed of an 
 ntiquated dandy clerk, who had just been smothered in ljquer in a house 
 >f a certain description, not one hundred miles from Denzille Street, 
 ’he two following verses conclude his ramb'ng poem, which we earn- 
 stly recommend to the curious in diabolic studies :— 
 
 Cried J, P. “ Adieu iny dear Nick and faith you 
 Have amused me much by your chat, 
 
 You will find your way back, for so worn is your 
 track, 
 
 That a loss you cau never be at. 
 
 Ob ! farewell my dear chum, but I hope you will com* 
 
 To visit me down in hell— 
 
 I’ll be right glad to see—oh ! I thank you said P— 
 
 So now my old boy farewell* 
 
44 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Oar reader? may recollect (if not, vide Comet of Saturday, the 18 
 November,)that the last place our friend Paddy and his Satanic Majes 
 parted company was in College Street Police Office, where Paddy left 1 
 Highness in safe’custody of old Montgomery the Peace Officer. It w 
 also be recollected that the reason of his leaving him there was m coi 
 sequence of the Old Boy having exceeded in his .potation of Fatty K< 
 ney’s Doctors, which the Devil thought so devilish, he continued to g 
 devilish drunk, and was left Jin the aforesaid Police Office, by Paddy, 
 order, as he said, to keep him out of harm’s way. There ’tis to be si 
 posed he snoozed all night, and waking in the morning, not knowi 
 where he was, he looked round in amazement. 
 
 Where am I ? quoth he, or where are yon, Pat ? 
 
 Were the very first words that he said ; 
 
 Who tore all my clothes, and united my cravat ? 
 
 My bones are all aching with lying so flat 
 
 On this rascally rib-breaking bed. 
 
 Gentle reader, did you ever get a night’s lodging in a watch-hou 
 If so, you will not wonder at even the devil himself finding fault with 
 accomodation. 
 
 Hould your clack, cried a chap, who, for nibbling a 
 wipe, (a) 
 
 Was caged in the watch-house all night; 
 
 If you give any more of your chin-wagging pipe, 
 
 I’ll butter my knife to the y in your tripe, (b) 
 
 And that’ll be sarving you right. 
 
 Go it Tom, cried a lady, who lodgings had got 
 For easing a lad of his screen, (c) 
 
 That damn’d long nose thief, since he come to this spot, 
 
 Never offer’d to stand either naggin or pot; 
 
 Bad luck to him. what does he mean ? 
 
 Here two sweeps and a tinker were going to slate 
 And wallop the life out of Nic, ^ 
 
 Who heartily wish’d himself back at hell’s gate 
 As for Pat, who had left him in this purty state, 
 
 He swore he’d yet play him a trick. 
 
 Now just as the devil was going to get 
 
 What he seldom receives—that’s his dpe. 
 
 In Goodisson (») walks, in a fume and a pet, 
 
 The Alderman’s come—gentlemen, you forget, 
 
 He has something to settle with you. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN 
 
 45 
 
 This way, gentlemen—if you please, Sir, this way 
 Hollo! constable—open that door— 
 
 When in they were usher’d in Newgate array, (e) 
 And all but the Devil was careless and gay;— 
 
 He was ne’er in the watchhouse before. 
 
 The sweeps and the tinkers were sent to the mill, (f) 
 The lady was sent to the Pen—(g) 
 
 Old Nick fined a dollar—said Fleming, I will 
 Not let you so easily off, if you still 
 
 Are seen drunk in the daylight again, 
 
 At the fine of five shillings, the Devil look’d blue, 
 
 In his pocket he hadn’t a bob, (h) 
 
 In the name of Alecto, now what shall I do ? 
 
 When who should he see at the door, peeping thro, 
 
 But Paddy’s monocular (i) nob. 
 
 All’s right, Nic, said Pat, I have settled the fine, 
 
 So come along this way with me, 
 
 I’ve promised to breakfast with Bcyton at nine, 
 
 He’s a very old friend and class-fellow of mine, 
 
 And I must introduce him to thee. 
 
 Introduce him ! c 0 me Paddy, be easy, my boy, 
 
 For Charley since he was a hobble-di-hoy, 
 
 These last twenty years he’s been in my employ ;— 
 But come away, Pat,— nous verrous. 
 
 Into Duncan’s they stepp’d, Academics to get, 
 
 Pat dress’d an A.M. cap-a-fe ; 
 
 But the Old Boy, a suit of his livery met— 
 
 Reil scarf and Black gown—then away they both set, 
 The Devil, a perfect D.D. 
 
 Said Paddy, Your highness, there’s all kinds of fun 
 Expected in College to-day; 
 
 ’Tis the day of Election. 1 known it, my son, 
 
 And a vast deal of business for me’s to be done, 
 
 So show me to Boy ton’s the way. 
 
 Off they set, arm-in-arm, and arrived at Boyton’s Chambers, where 
 about forty well-stuffed Parsons and half-starved Curates are seated at 
 breakfast. Charley instantly recognizes his old fr . but a w ink from 
 the latter puts an end to any uneasy apprehension i might, have enter¬ 
 tained touching his visit. 
 
46 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Mali ! Doctissimr Doctor, most welcome-; and you, 
 
 Mv friend Kelly, be seated, I pray , 
 
 Dean I )-, give the Doctor a leg and wing too. 
 
 The, Dean roar’d out, Boyton, I’m d—d if I do ; 
 
 You know I’ve no time for delay, 
 
 Quite in character with the pampered Ecclesiastic, the Jack Asse’s 
 motto when dancing among the chickens, “ let every one take care of 
 himself,’ seems to be pretty generally adopted by assinine bipeds. 
 
 Bad luck to your big chuckle-head, mutter’d Patt, 
 
 As he help’d both himself and Nick; 
 
 Come Doctor, my hearty—come what are you at? 
 
 Will you try the old gobstick, avick. 
 
 You’d d— d nasty night in the watch-house, you know 
 ; :f col; 1 would have you take care ; 
 
 Let me give you a nip of this white curacoa— 
 
 Or take of this brandy and soda a go ; 
 
 This brandy, Fatty’s I swear. 
 
 ’Tis needless to remark, that the Slugs had everything of the best 
 No lie to say they live on the fat of the land, and are ’’fruges con- 
 sumere nati.” 
 
 Win i. was enjoying himself like a man, 
 
 The Devil took Boyton aside— 
 
 Have von done as I bid you ?—adopted my plan?— 
 
 Your 1 ugliness, I’ve done all a single man can ; 
 
 The Reverend Fellow replied. 
 
 You kno w that my objects are Shaw andLefroy; 
 and swaddlers I always befriend ; 
 
 They know how to humbug the people, my boy, 
 
 /: 1 nil ilie gnod things of this world enjoy, 
 
 And, ] ;st mortem are sure to descend. 
 
 This is the Devil’s own satire, to say all the swaddlers are humbug¬ 
 ged—that they nnlulge. sub rosa,in all the pomps, vanities, and luxuries 
 of this wicked well as any other class of people, and to insin¬ 
 
 uate that Old Me s so sure of them hereafter, in common gratitude, 
 be was bound to take their part while on earth. Oh, shocking. 
 Boyton continues— 
 
 I’m fully aware of your motives, dread Sir, 
 
 But come, let’s away to the poll; 
 
 My Ueverend colleagues, no longer demur; 
 
 Mr. Kelly, you seem most unwilling to stir ? 
 
 I am. replied Fat, ’pon my soul. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 47 
 
 Pat would have preferred remaining to discuss the merits of a pigeon 
 pie he had attacked tooth and nail, to running the risk of getting his 
 other eye knocked out in the crowd. However, they all sally forth to the 
 Hall. Passing through the court-yard, the Devil is delighted at the 
 amazing number of Black Slugs he sees assembled, and rubbing his hands 
 .with delight, exclaims— 
 
 Oh sight most enchanting ! oh spectacle grand ! 
 
 Dear Pat, what a beautiful show ! 
 
 Every nine out of ten of this black-looking band, 
 
 Who, like locusts of old, are now swarming the land, 
 
 I have book’d for the kingdom below. 
 
 My eyes ! there’s plumper, cried Pat, when he spied 
 Him of Meath waddling up to the door ; 
 
 And who is that giblet-shank’d chap by his side ? 
 
 That his is a split vote, it cap’t be denied. 
 
 Oh that is my Lord of Kilmore !! 
 
 Said Pat, I’ve a simile, must make you laugh, 
 
 ’Tis a bran-new idea of mine: 
 
 The Bishop of Meath is the well fatted calf, 
 
 And the other, whose leg’s like a constable’s staff, 
 
 Is one of King Pharoah’s lean kine. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 48 
 
 A SPLIT VOTE A PLUMPER 
 
 
 Paddy’s astonishment at beholding the extraordinary contrast be¬ 
 tween these two prelates—Alexander, of Meath, and Beresford, of Kil~ 
 more, is very natural; but his punning on their appearance, and 
 endeavouring to be witty, we imagine to be the effect of Charley Boyton’s 
 curacon. And we regret very much, indeed, that we must take our leave 
 of him at this particular period, when he isbeginning to be so entertaining, 
 but want of space precludes the possibility of our giving insertion to any 
 more of his poetic diablerie. We promise our readers, however, very 
 shortly to give them further extracts, and that they shall, ere long, have 
 another visit from his Satanic Majesty. 
 
It is by the merest accident that we again have the pleasure of pre¬ 
 senting our readers with another part of the Deril’s Walk, as it was by 
 merest accident that our J. P. encountered his Majesty, Last week Old 
 Nick, Paddy Kelly, J. P., and Tim Rooney, after having chanted a simu¬ 
 ltaneous chorus for lickers, which they could not procure at the Fancy 
 Ball, steered under the Devil’s own guidance, to Hawkins’s Street, where 
 J. P. and Hooft, with that peculiar elegance of manner characteristic to 
 them, introduced Tim and Paddy to the sanctum sanctorum of the Widow 
 Breakey. They remained there till nearly speechless, and then the Devil 
 having asked for share of a bed in vain, they rowled home, leaviug him at 
 Bob Morrison’s to take his snooze, and he was not heard of for the re¬ 
 mainder of the week, J. P. having abonized himself, was proceeding 
 towards the Adelphi, on Wednesday Night, to witness and laugh at the 
 ridiculous gambols of the would-be Opera performers, and what was his 
 horror and stupefaction to see the glowing phiz of Old Hoofs thrust un¬ 
 ceremoniously over his shoulder, his toggery arranged with the nicety of 
 a Brummel, and he evidently bent on proceeding to the same centre of 
 folly. It was in vain J. P. strove to cut him, for he has the Devil’s own 
 eyes, and speaking flippantly, he thus addressed him—• 
 
 Upon my soul, my dear J. P., 
 
 I’m glad to meet you now, 
 
 As Lam going in to see 
 This Operatic row ! 
 
 I long to see my friend, his Grace 
 Of Leinster, who doth play 
 The fool and fiddle here—so place 
 Your arm in mine I pray. 
 
 Poor J, P. shuffled for a while. 
 
 But saw it was no use 
 To hesitate, and with a smile, 
 
 His ever-ready ruse ! 
 
 Said...Nick, you honor me to much 
 I’m nearly overcome ! 
 
 The Devil then his arm did clutch— 
 
 He instantly was dumb ! 
 
50 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 How exquisite!: described. Such a simple; yet forcible delinea ion 
 J. P. meets his Majesty of the Infernal Regions, any uot wishing, wo 
 suppose, to be seen with him at the Adelphi— among the regular aut-anc 
 outer snobs—strives to give the cut oblique, but fails, and then, when tho 
 Devil clutches him, how simple, beautiful, and Wordsworthian the des¬ 
 cription—“ He instantly was dumb.’’ The Devil and he enters the house, 
 where Old Nick who has a literary taste, plopped down opposite Sir 
 Charles Miladi Morgan, who were accompanied by Lady Clarke, but not 
 by the Knight of the Baths. The Devil’s eyes rolled round and round 
 with an appearance af the completest extacy—now fixin,, on one, and 
 nowon another of his own particular friends, with whom the house was 
 stocked, and at last he burst forth into the following exclamations :— 
 
 Oh ! what a splendid, glorious sight. 
 
 To look on every side ! 
 
 To see so many here this night 
 In whom I well may pride ! 
 
 For all those pampered things arc mine ! 
 
 Those lordlings, and the crew 
 Of boyish raw recruits, who shine 
 In gold and crimson too 1 
 
 We could not for a moment think of doubting the truth of his Ma¬ 
 jesty’s assertion, for they who revel in luxuries and abundance—who are 
 clothed in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptously every day, while 
 their fellow-men, from whose very vitals their enormous incomes are 
 v r mched, cCt tally starve—“verily they have their reward.” 
 
 There’s Captains Speedy, Hornidge, Ball 
 Three fellows I know well, 
 
 And there’s Caddell and Grant...they all 
 With me will be in Hell. 
 
 They are poor Buffoons now, and play 
 A pampered set to please, 
 
 Who laugh at their attempts , while they 
 Sneer as applause do seize. 
 
 There’s Paganini Buttermilk, 
 
 A bonne bonche he’s to me; 
 
 And th’other scraping every whilk, 
 
 On his right side you see, 
 
 Is Campbell, little can he tell, 
 
 A friend of his is nigh, 
 
 A friend who loves him passing well. 
 
 As he'll prove by and by. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 51 
 
 As they have not commenced as yet 
 Their mad buffoonery, 
 
 Let us review the purse-proud set 
 Around us now, J. 
 
 I don’t object, 4 but my dear Nick, 
 
 Speak low, don’t scream out thus,” 
 
 You’re right replied he, for yon click, 
 
 In red’s observing us. 
 
 Do you see, Nick, on that left side 
 The Lady Yen try, and 
 Sir Peter with a husband’s pride 
 Behind her now doth stand, 
 
 Egad. I do, said Nick, (and he 
 
 His teeth with joy did cranch) 
 
 Peter Fitzpiggin is to me 
 
 A treasure, see his paunch. 
 
 There’s all the Cramptons, young Kildahl, 
 
 And ould dust, Major White, 
 
 The Vivians, and the Gossets all 
 Are sitting on the right. 
 
 The pension list, the pension list, 
 
 Roared Nick, is my chief care, 
 
 I’ll have them all, aye fall, but hist, 
 
 Aint that friend Mansfield there ? 
 
 His Satanic Majesty was perfectly right. It was Mansfield, and 
 we are not so dull, to stupid, or so void of penetration, but that we could 
 perceive how he got there—by fawning on Captain Kinlock and Mecklin, 
 by praising, slavering with praise, the paltry efforts of the whole acting 
 crew. Only think of this coming from one who professes to judge—The 
 character of Pat Rooney was performed by Mr. Richard Armit, in a 
 Power is always an efficient representative of this description of Irishman 
 but Mr, Armit transcends him by far. Oh, Hoey, come down and judge 
 this, Mr. Armit’s transcending power. Ha, ha, ha. ha. But why 
 laugh?—faugh. ’Tis loathsome—disgusting. Don’t mind him, Dick’ 
 he’s humbugging you. “ Praise undeserved is censure in disguise.’; 
 What are you to the modest and unrequited Barry? What are you to 
 —but how foolish to waive time with you. Every one knows you are 
 ridiculous. Our poet does not again continue till the curtain has been 
 raised, and the cold-blooded and atrocious murder of Rossini’s Opera 
 Seria of Otello has commenced. His Satanic Majesty is described in some 
 verses, that we omit, as being quite delighted with Mr. Bligh as 0 ello ? 
 he being a nonchalent murderer just to his taste. With a good deal of 
 sagacity he remarked, that Miss Fanny Liealy. as Desdomona, was a 
 pretty little girl, with a pretty little voice, but nothing more , and that 
 Mrs. Haydn Corri, as Emilia, performed with her wonted good taste 
 
§2 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Now don’t you think r my dear J. P. 
 
 Sagely remarked Old Nick, 
 
 That Bligh is ranting frightfully, 
 
 I hate such damned stage-trick. 
 
 He has a horrid shuffling way 
 Of crossing on the stage, 
 
 And rolls his eyes in each display,. 
 
 Of would-be dreadful rage. 
 
 There now the curtain’s dropped at last r 
 And I’m sure I am glad, 
 
 That this poor trumpery is past, 
 
 ’Twas bitter, bitter bad. 
 
 So let us lust look round again, 
 
 And see all our dear friends, 
 
 Who sit contented in this den, 
 
 Where stuff with folly blends. 
 
 Who are those black-eyed creatures here. 
 
 Dressed in pure virgin white, 
 
 Pale roses in their hair appear, 
 
 Their eyes are dark as night. 
 
 Their name is Harkins, Nick, but they 
 Have nought to do with you, 
 
 So do now turn your eyes away, 
 
 Alas, said Nick, ‘tis true. 
 
 But who is she that yawneth now.. 
 
 And teems half tired to be. 
 
 Of all this stuff, said Nick, I vow 
 Thot’s Mrs. Gregory. 
 
 No wonder she should yawn, for I r 
 J. P., am half asleep, 
 
 With all this folly, may I die, 
 
 ’Twould make e’en angels weepy 
 
 We cannot say whether Nick did actually snooze or not; but 
 poet completely discontinues till after the overture to Cimarosa s 0 
 Buffo of II Matrimonio Secreto had completely concluded, and t&e 
 was roused to the following exclaimations by the efforts of Mr, St. L 
 and Counsellor Galway to get np an encore. 
 
 “But what the plague, my dear J. P., 
 
 Is this hubbub about ? 
 
 Why is this noise ? I wonder they, 
 
 Don’t kick the makers out, 
 
 Ho, ho ! I see who they are now 9 
 There’s Counsellor Galway, 
 
 He with St, Leger raised the row, 
 
 A pretty pair they are. 
 
53 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 “ There’s Counsellor Corunto Bell, 
 
 Of mine an ancient friend ; 
 
 As sure as I am King of Hell, 
 
 With me some time he’ll spend. 
 
 Where’s Mrs. Waller? I opine, 
 
 She doth regret it now, 
 
 "Ihat she left mixing punch and wine, 
 
 At Folly’s shrine to bow. 
 
 “ Here’s Forester, my lord that is, 
 List to what he doth cry; 
 
 He tells about a mare of his 
 How he knocked out her eye, 
 Because she wouldn’t leap a fence, 
 Hick, this may sporting be, 
 
 But sporting like it, neither sense 
 Or feeling shows to me,” 
 
 Nick, you were in the right to notice this. Lord Forester was 
 oastinn - to a host of swells how he, pawn honor, knocked his mare’s eye 
 at, because she would not lead a fence. He little fancied that the fine 
 ir of Nicholas was all attention to his discourse Would not Mrs. 
 [eade Hobson, as he. with the grace of a Chesterfield, and the elegance 
 [ a Crichton, conducted her to her carriage, haviug shuddered, it she 
 new that she grasped—no. pardonnez nous—gently touched, the arm of 
 barbarian, Our rambliug poets continues thus:— 
 
 “ Oh, dam me! there’s a lovely one !” 
 
 Where! screamed out J. P., where ? 
 Among pome others of the ton, 
 
 Just opposite us there, 
 
 Oh, that’s Miss Creighton, my dear Hick, 
 Her brother’s with her too, 
 
 But there is your own darling chick, 
 
 Sam Lover cutting you.” 
 
 “ Oh, ’tis no matter, do not mind ,) 
 
 That is all in my eye ; 
 
 Upon my soul he’ll surely find, 
 
 He knows me by and by. 
 
 Poor Sam ! how hard’s on earth his lot! 
 
 He’s langh’d at every where ; 
 
 If he don’t find my home too hot, 
 
 He must be happy there.” 
 
 “ Here’s Remmy Sheehan, Mr, Hume, 
 One a damn’d clever chap, 
 
 Here’s Horton, and, may I consume, 
 Scanlan, that awful rap.” 
 
 Hick rubbed his hands, with fiendish glee, 
 As our J. P. thus spoke, 
 
 And laughed with such wild-estacy. 
 
 That J. P. thought he’d choke, 
 
54 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 We are in possession of an immense number of stanzas more, but 
 they are too terrible for insertion. Old Nick commences describing to 
 our friend the interior of Hell, and faith it is a most blood-freezing des¬ 
 cription. Fires, blazing roaring fires, devils, horrid hideous devils, Oh, 
 Lord, oh, Lord,—Aristocrats, pampered, despicable Aristocrats. You 
 will have to endure all this, and do you not richly deserve it? Ye 
 squander your thousands, ye dress, ye “flaunt in gaudy and vain attire. 
 Ye trample on the poor, but at last the awful day of retribution will 
 come, when all men are equal, and then ye will be, as ye ought to be 
 rewarded. 
 
 The Devil and our J. P., when the opera was over, adjourned to Mrs 
 Breaky’s, whereabout the witching hour of two, Old Nicholas might be 
 discovered issuing forth gloriously oblivious. J. P. stole away long be¬ 
 fore, after having made the devil promise to go with him to the opera 
 again next week. Captains Kinlock and Mecklin may expect them. 
 
 i 
 
It is now along time since we bad an opportunity of presenting 
 ur readers with a graphic sketch of his Satanic Majesty*s visit to our 
 letropolis, and the only way we can account for at is this:—-He has 
 een, we believe, so much taken up with the politics of a certain house on 
 he other side of the water, and so engaged in superintending the various 
 tages of the Coersive Measure Bill, (which was peculiarly his own in- 
 
 ention,) that he (poor Devil) had not time to ramble for pleasure -- 
 
 >ur Poet rushes at once into his subject, with a glorious contempt of 
 reliminaries:— 
 
 It was long past 4 p.m, ere Old Nick he rose 
 From his couch down in hell th’other day, 
 
 So he put on him quickly his supertine clothes, 
 
 Gave his hat a slight cock that a knowing one shows, 
 Like a shark looking out for his prey. 
 
ft6 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 And said he to himself, now suppose that I range, 
 
 All thro’ Dublin in search of some spree, 
 
 For my friends there must feel that my absence is 
 strange, 
 
 And I’m sure since I’ve been there that many a change 
 Has happened that will amuse me. 
 
 So he called his attendant—a young Devil came 
 A s black as the darkest of ink, 
 
 With two saucer eyes that like blazes did flame, 
 
 And for hair hissing snakes that now seem d very tame 
 For before the great fiend they did shrink!— 
 
 What a description—blazing eyes—hissing snakes for hair. 0 Lord 
 how we shudder, and bless ourselves that we are not very rich—as “ ’tis 
 easier for a camel (quere should it be cable?) to go through the eye of an 
 needle then for a rich man to enter”—but where are we wandering to ? 
 Let us continue with our narrator— 
 
 Go, tell Charon to get his boat ready, and then 
 Bring me hither a hot cup of tea, 
 
 Don’t delay, but go quickly, and list to me—when 
 You’ve obeyed my commandstfo your fires go again, 
 
 They are not so hot as they should be. 
 
 Well, well, well, how we pity the poor sufferers below faith we wish 
 we were out of’his Majesty’s provinces where the hot fires are. Law, 
 what a hissing a fat tithe eater must make. 
 
 When Old Nick drank his scald, he got into the boat, 
 And then Charon ply’d quickly bis oar ; 
 
 So that shortly the Devil, with his fine black coat, 
 Buttoned up (for he felt cold) to bis very throat, 
 
 \Vas high and dry on th’ other shore, 
 
 In a little time more you the Devil might see, 
 
 Like a heavy swell walking thro’town, 
 
 And arm-in-arm with our own gay J.P., 
 
 Who laugh’d, and who seem’d in good humour to be, 
 4s thro’ Sackville-street they strutted down. 
 
 My dear sir, said Old Nick, I assnre you I feel 
 Most delighted at meeting with you, 
 
 For next to my heart I have always your weal, 
 (Our J. P. twisted then like a fresh captured eel,) 
 And, believe me, I speak what is true. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 57 
 
 But J, P. is a courtier, and therefore can hide 
 What passes within, with a smile ; 
 
 So he bowed low, and witli much politeness replied, 
 
 Tho’ you flatter me, still I assure you I pride, 
 
 In your friendship and kindness the while. 
 
 What a perfect Chesterfield! what exquisite tact! Well, well, 
 J. P., you bang ! 
 
 But now J. P., will you say where we shall go, 
 
 For I slept it so soundly to-day ; 
 
 I did not get up till past four, and you know, 
 
 All my friends have gone home to their dinners, and lo ! 
 
 Evening comes with her mantle of grey, 
 
 J. P. answered, you say truly, Nick, my old boy, 
 
 I dined early, but will you not pick! 
 
 Oh no, no, said the Devil, I could not destroy 
 The light wing of a lark now, and this is the joy 
 Of drinking and late hours, avick. 
 
 Well, well, let me see, is not this Thursda} r night ? 
 
 Eaith it is, said the Devil, indeed, 
 
 Egad, my Old Boy, I can tell you all’s right, 
 
 And J, P. rubbed his hands with the greatest deligh;— 
 
 To the Fancy Ball, Nick, we will speed. 
 
 It is done, roarod the Devil, but where are we now 
 Don’t they call this place Hawkius’s-slreet, 
 
 There’s before us the Theatre Koyal I know— 
 
 Come in here, said J. P., it’s too early to go, 
 
 For no one at the Ball v e would meet. 
 
 So into a parlonr Old Nick popp’d his face, 
 
 Andfthen like a regular rake he 
 Bowed low. while delight in his phiz you might trace 
 To the aye smiling genius of this pleasant place. 
 
 The obliging and young Widow Breaky. 
 
 This gentleman, said our own J. P„ will take 
 A doctor, but prithee give me, 
 
 A bottle of soda, said Nick do you make 
 Them doctors here too, and he blew his long beak 
 And seem’d in exceeding great glee— 
 
 Here we must interrupt our poet, to recommend our theatrical friends 
 if they want soda, doctors, or any other liquid thing, just to take a run 
 between the acts to Mrs, B., who is particularly patronised by us. Ah 
 here there occurs a huge hiatus in our manuscript, as our poet does not 
 
58 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 again speak till he and Nick are in the round room of the Botundo, whicl 
 is peopled with a motley group of lisping Terry Alts, Turks, Fiddles 
 Greeks, &g., &c., all doing their best to be distinguished. The rooms 
 he says, were rather tastefully decorated, and every praise is due to th< 
 activity of the Stewards and the good order and regularity theypreservec 
 
 —When his Satanic Majesty and our J. P-centered the room, “th< 
 
 beloved ” was just leaving it, and Nick gazed at him with the eye of t 
 courmaund —to be sure his longing for such a bonne eouche is par¬ 
 donable. Though the Devil met a number of his friends there, he die 
 not recognize tham ; but with his tail hanging behind him, like the nar¬ 
 row skirts of Tom Vaughan’s dress coat—who, par parenthese, sported 
 boots on this occasion—and leaning gracefully on his companion’s arm 
 strutted through the room with as much aristocratic nonchalance as i i 
 he had always been used to high life. Our Chronicler commences most 
 abruptly— 
 
 Here’s Big Clifford, dear Nick, and recruting he is. 
 With his drum, and his ribbons, and fife, 
 
 But who is this fish-women ? Lord ! what a phiz ! 
 
 A capital character, Nick—his voice y tls 
 As to brogue and expression, like life. 
 
 And here is another—D’ye want fine fat plaice ? 
 
 They are chape enough, Sur, I am sure— 
 
 Dear Nick, by their mein it is easy to trace 
 Who they are ; and I know that the vendor of plaice 
 Is Carroll—the other is Moore.- 
 
 Mr. Moore, of Rutland Square, and Mr. Carroll, of Mountjoy Square 
 were excellent fishwomen, and caused a good portion of fun, by thei\ 
 humorous support of the characters. 
 
 Here’s M‘Dona of Capel Street, Nick ! and he plays 
 That cracked clarionet very well : 
 
 If Jones as the wife his voice higher would raise 
 And not take these long strides that his mahood betraye 
 Their appearance much better would tell. 
 
 This Swbs peasant is Mr. O’Grady, and he 
 Of all in the room dances best. 
 
 This Greek is young Abraham his dress scenfto me 
 Purely classial but now suppose, Nick, that we 
 Take some Coffee by way of a zezt 9 
 
THE DEVIL’ WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 59 
 
 Faugh ! Coffee! No. on. but some punch I will take, 
 Said Old Hoofs with a kind of a grin, 
 
 Faith you won’t, for I know one rule that they’make 
 Is to give no one punch , here his head he did shake— 
 Wait awhile till my power they’re in. 
 
 Here there is another break off, and we suppose the Devil was so 
 ?hargined in not getting punch when he called for it, that he completely 
 ifost for a while his powers of observation, till at last it seemed he was 
 roused from his stupor by the appearance of a great divinity— 
 
 (' 
 
 Who is this ? said Old Nick, as he cast his great ey 
 On Sir Peter’s sponsa with a stare, 
 
 Like a rattle snake as to his wide mouth he tries 
 To attract the poor bird when from earth it doth rise 
 To soar in the regions of air. 
 
 That is Lady Fitzpiggin, a perfect Dunn ! 
 
 With what exquisite taste she is dress’d— 
 
 A veil of gauze floats o’er her neck whose pale hue 
 Glows from neath it like Cynthia, wheu she s smiling 
 thro’ 
 
 Some light cloud to make mortals more bless’d 
 
 Here’s descriptive powers with a vengance—here’s a soaring into 
 ,he regions of sublimity—here’s a high flight for the Devil’s companion ! 
 A.s he continues, he grows more and more preposterous— 
 
 In her beautiful hair she had feathers like those 
 Of the Paradise Bird, and she hung 
 On Sir Peter’s fat arm, while her bosom uprose 
 Like a w ave of the sea when in moonlight it glows— 
 What a pity she lisps with her tongue. 
 
 What think yon. dear Nick, of the two Misses Keogh ? 
 
 Those Juno-like creatures yon see, 
 
 They are certainly handsome, said Nick, but I know 
 They can never be mine, and so therefore we’ll go 
 To some others who mine yet may be. 
 
 Ha ! ha! ha! roared out Nick, look, J, P., oh, look, 
 Who is this as the thimblerig here ? 
 
 I’ll bet you a crown (sure your honor’s not shook) 
 
 For blunt? that this small ball you never will hook ; 
 And fair play is a jewel my dear. 
 
60 
 
 THE DEVIL'S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 M‘Donald be nisv. said Nick, my sweet sir. 
 For your nicks I’m aiiftle too ouid, 
 
 By the holy, says Bropliy, if you east a shir 
 Ou our var.ioi.s honor, or dare to demur, 
 Come be niay, LL, now don't go scold, 
 
 Decidelv the three best characters in the room were Mr. M‘Donald, 
 as a thimblerig. Mr. Brophv, as a blind fiddler, and Mr. Carmichael, as a 
 broken-down horse holder from the Four Courts. They kept the room 
 in one roar of laughter, and the chiefly contributed to the amusement 
 
 of the evening. ... 
 
 Among the Flukes present, none shone in the Devils eye like one 
 little creature whose disguise completely hid him, and who, with the 
 p jwerful attraction which leads men to their proper professions, ad- 
 ii irably personified that most miserable and wretched of c tnacters, a 
 Buekthorn News-hawker. Old Nick was particularly delighted at the 
 fact displayed bv the literary Janus, when vending the unsold copies oi 
 the Buckthorn Repealer. Who could have thought of this, said the 
 Emperor of Russia, but one whose mind is ever on the qui vive tor picks 
 and poltroons. Amiable Buckthorn, simple, elegant, and gentlemanlike 
 even in the mechanical arrangement of your news men. He sold two, 
 whispered Tim Roonev, for sedemental purposes since. ie enteie t i 
 room—he’s fagged. 'The Devil put his tongue in his pvv, and shdno 
 his bob. 
 
 Here’s Mia-bull Tmn Laffan. Aqnilla Kent. 
 
 .Tolnmv Hume, Tommv Wright—Lord George uf 
 Irwin, Gresham, and Shy Tighe. eu iitimrforrh scent, 
 Captain Vivian and do <j s. who’s in his element, 
 
 As the dre ses increase hit long bill. 
 
 Old Niek rubbed his hands with exceeding delight, 
 And seemed in a phrenzy to be, 
 
 His large fiend eyes were excess vely bright. 
 
 Like suns they half dazzled his friend’s aching sight 
 As he whispered, they are all mine, J. I. 
 
 r “~ What a splendid lot the Devil will have, to be sure— M by S 
 Tighe is a host in himself-a host of taint and impurity. ^ 
 his Majesty and his comrade more than once gaze at.young Smyth, vvh 
 was exquisitely dressed as a lady ot the old school and who w as ti 
 character to perfection. ’Tis well for him their eyes have not bas.li. 
 p:>wer— 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 61 
 
 Here’s Brabazon, Darling, here’s Archer the Mayor, 
 
 A lid liereV Vance as a thimblerig too, 
 
 J T is yarns are not well pun—that’s McDermott there 
 As a huntsman, and well doth his cbameUr bear— 
 
 ‘Tis a difficult one to get through. 
 
 Here’s Miss Ormsby. Miss Henry, Mbs Gresham. Miss 
 
 Knipe, 
 
 A collection of angels divine. 
 
 Yes, yes, sigh'd for.h Nick, whi e i is face was a type 
 Of anguish, aiid his tearful eyes lie did wipe— 
 i>ut 1 grieve that they ne’er can he mine. 
 
 Who is this luscious widow that constantly smiles 
 And who but for her beard would look well? 
 
 Faith the mme of that creature. Nick, is Edward Isle, 
 But have you ever lieaid them when mending old files, 
 Ho, said Nick, we don’t use them in Hell. 
 
 Because don’t you think tha* the music is like, 
 
 The harsh sounds that such mending would make, 
 
 It is shameful, and doih most discordantly -trike 
 On the ear—but oh, who is this ravenous pike 
 That’s devouring a mountain ca^e. 
 
 ’Tis the lord of Nassau Street, don’t mind J. P. 
 
 But is not this Counsellor Hill ? 
 
 Aye, aye, and this teller of fortunes you see, 
 
 That so perfectly self-satisfied seems to be, 
 
 By name is y’clept Peithcrs Gill. 
 
 Here’s Whelan as Larry O’Gaff, and here’s Page 
 As a sailor hoy dancing on shore, 
 
 Here’s Doctor bliea. and here’s Preston, and also here’s 
 Cage, 
 
 V ho war ’gaint his lungs doth remorselessly wage 
 He for neeules tine cases doth roar. 
 
 Eutlook, said J. P.. here’s a beautiful dress, 
 
 'The young Scottish Chief ‘tis I moan. 
 
 Faith it is, said Old Nick, and 1 tliink I can guess 
 What his name is, and on liis words he laid great stress 
 He is dubb'd young Tevener I ween. 
 
 Mr. Tenevar was beautifully dressed, and was the go, the gape, 
 the stare, the gaze, all the evening. He and Mr. Murray were the best 
 highlanders in the group. 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 62 
 
 Here's Jackson as Conrad the Corsair, here's Smyth 
 As an Albanian sailor, and he 
 That's dressed as a lady—the tall lady with 
 The calico skirt of such terrific witdth 
 
 Is George Dixon—here Nick show's gre at glee. 
 
 The cause of the Devil’s exceeding great glee was this, he observed 
 our own Paddy Kelly, his particular friend, and Tim Rooney, Ins late 
 acquaintance, advancing towards him arm-in-arm, and he bursts forth 
 into the following beautiful exclaimations- — 
 
 Is not that my own dear friend Pat K<‘lly, he screamel 
 Oh Paddy, pray how do you do— 
 
 Where have you been thi.*> age? who would have e er 
 dream'd, . 
 
 (And his eye with delight like a blaze of fire beamed j 
 4t a Faucy Ball of meeting you ? 
 
 I am overjoyed to, said J. P., so Nick come, 
 
 Without delay how let us dash, 
 
 And I am dry too, said Tim Rooney, oh some 
 Of the se stewards, by Jupiter, should be struck dumb 
 For concocting that lemonade squash. 
 
 Here the whole Comet Club burst into a tumultuous chorus fo 
 
 lieker. 
 
 I‘m dhry, says Pat Kelly, 
 
 If at home with my Nelly, 
 
 I‘d have good whiskey punch iu galore ; 
 But go it you spooney— 
 
 Punch, punch, says Tim Rooney, 
 
 By Jove, says J. 1\, you're a bore. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Blur-an-ouns, bng-a-bouns, have some pinch made, 
 And curses light on your damned sour lemonade. 
 
 Continuation, of the Devil's W alks in Dublii 
 
 By E. S. 
 
 An immease time has el apsed since his Satanic Majesty fayca -ed j 
 with his usual perambulation, through this metropolis. We suppose 
 
THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 63 
 
 has been so much taken up with his own affairs (the mortality among the 
 curates, and tithe-payers being wondrous,) in the lower regions as to be 
 totally incapable of attending to ours ; however, we are delighted even 
 now to give our readers an account of his late visit, as to procure what¬ 
 ever is new and interesting, is our endeavour at all times. Our poet 
 thns commences— 
 
 The Devil in hell, a few mornings ago, 
 
 Sat quietly sipping his tea, 
 
 And thought that for chang&, he might as well range, 
 To Dublin in search of a spree. 
 
 He had been in Loudon, and seen all their fun, 
 
 At Crockford’s met some of the fon. 
 
 Who were rattling away at their hazard-'ous play, 
 Little dreaming of him who looked on. 
 
 The palace he also passed thro’ as he went 
 And hinted to good King Billy, 
 
 ’Twas easily seen he was peck’d by the queen, 
 
 T allow which was certaiuly silly. 
 
 lie brought two fat Aldermen down on return. 
 
 Besides a whole host of Black Sheep, 
 
 Whom life sought for tithe, little thinking they’d 
 writhe 
 
 In a dwelling so dark and so deep. 
 
 He now hadn’t left his dominions for months, 
 
 So pull’d on his Wellington boot, 
 
 And soon took the air up and down Merrion-square, 
 And quietly smoked his cheroot. 
 
 We are here presented with a graphic description of his Majesty’s 
 dress and appearance which is peifectly the fashion, and we also have 
 a description of the cordial greetings which passed between him and 
 J. P., who, having nearly recovered his late indisposition, was enjoying 
 the sunny air, little imagining his acquaintance was so near. Nick pre¬ 
 ferred his arm and a cigar, both of which being accepted, they strutted 
 on most lovingly together. 
 
 You tell me, my friend, there’s no news here, quoth 
 Nick, 
 
 Unless that my ever dear chum, 
 
 The gallant old Marquis about leaving the park is, 
 And Wellesley’s in his place to come. 
 
C4 THE DEVIL’S WALKS IN DUBLIN. 
 
 How are all mv old fri mis 1-how are N-» *•»<* 
 
 S— d?— 
 
 Maiden hunting I fancy still ; 
 
 And The Lord Mare, I think his quantum can dank 
 An ocean of liquor he’d swill. 
 
 Here are two little milliners coming this way. 
 
 Thev’re followed t.y some whiskered d .«!>, 
 
 Who th- b-sis h ?—he’s a sf anger to me, 
 
 Oh, ’us only their b au, the beau N U. 
 
 The propensity some swells have for the tribe of short plaid cloak 
 
 and band-boxes is /eally wondrous. We understand that Tommy V- 
 
 rapidly imbibing bis fried D peculiarities m this lme. 
 
 Who are those p i. approaching so lovingly now? 
 
 One is VV-d, Lord Mayor elect. 
 
 And lie, in who e face, cringing Toady yon trace, 
 j 8 tyj_f-d, whom none can suspect. 
 
 ws ir George like his shade 
 ho wishes will fl.y- 
 
 11C now always foil 
 
 And to d»> what he -- j 
 
 Said Nick, with a » idle on hi* fea: ures the while, 
 
 X will h ve him in hell by and by 
 
 Who’s the tl i (I now approaching so sleek and so fat? 
 
 It is Alderman W- 11 1 ween > . , , w g 
 
 lies now like thef t ki .e, but, quoth Nick, when hes 
 
 mine. . 
 
 } ] e will soon become bouy and lean. 
 
 How we do, from our very s<>uls, envy those elected ones. We cc 
 inst imagine the fizzing they both will make ^hen Mnck in a fiie 
 
 which the Custom-house conflagration was a “X? and the Uttte Aldt 
 pig face will repent Ins deeds at the Sheriff a Office, and the Little Aid 
 
 man will reg.tit the goodly ie 
 
 , he left behind. 
 
 Do you know wlio*s this here riding gracefully up, 
 
 A p in e amoug sportsmen is he ? 
 
 JSick answered, i guess ‘lis Loid if-th, and suce 
 
 Ue widi him tho* lie’s not for me. 
 
 What a. great concession on the Devil’s part—he that goeth affio 
 like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour—he that graspeth 
 alt and is never satiated with victim—to wish success to one he a 
 kuowledges cannot be bis. His Lordship is very highly complimented 
 
65 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS THROUGH DUBLIN. 
 
 “Who’s this t 11. thin young fellow, in uniform here? ’ 
 
 “Tis Lord Alfred 1*- I see— < 
 
 Did vou hear of a s‘ir lie had with Major S...ra 
 When on , th ? other night on a spree ? u 
 
 The moaning of these astei icks may be discovered by 
 the parties concerned, who are not a thousand miles 
 from Mount, Pleasant. We know all the particulars 
 as well as Nick, and think it wonderful that we can 
 refrain from publishing them.—But to pioceed: 
 
 “Here's a blue-coat club, buttoned and deep boated hat, 
 Surrounchng a sore looking man # . 
 
 Said the Devil, “his phiz seems familiar— it 19, 
 
 Ave it must he, my friend buck M‘C n. 
 
 «Im delighted to see that lie’s looking so well, 
 The Sunday-school teaching’s improving *, 
 To see him essay to teach children to pray, 
 Tis ready pretty and moving/ 
 
 4 < Who"s this driving the ear with the frosty faee, 
 
 And the keen, sharp and roguish eye- 
 in whose twin king leer, as it would appear, 
 
 There’s knowledge of all who pass by ? 
 
 Tis simple Tom B-y, the innocent child, 
 
 Who just tnoweth a thing or two— 
 
 He his pockets can fill by discounting a bill, 
 
 And lie’s quite wide awake at that too* 
 
 Kick roared with a grin, “he is mine ! he is mine ? 
 
 And a. bonne bouche he‘ll certainly be— H 
 When in H—11. if he will, he may take up a bill j 
 Ana Kick laughed with exceeding great glee. 
 
 Our friend Tom is regularly bid for now, as he’s to be 
 the Devils “tit bit.” His dwelling, happey home, will be 
 effectually defended from frost, and it "ill be no longer 
 “poor Tom’s a cold,” but “poor Toni’s a hot 
 
 “Here’s a hell of a swell, with whisker fresh trimmed, 
 With waste to thin, tight-laced and slim— 
 
 <Ti s O G_y dear Kick he’s our favourite chick , 
 
 “Yes,” said Hoofv, “Inn certain of him/* 
 
 “There’s a bunch of great snobs just approaching us now 
 Young M‘K—y, all the K—nts and Tom V-— e ; 
 
 “I know them all well, they’ll be with me in h 1, 
 Where I’ll teach them the Devils dance. 4 
 
66 
 
 THE DEVIL’S WALKS THROUGH DUBLIN'. 
 
 “Hook-nosed B-ly, too, comes on a horse’s outside, 
 
 Which prices, and curvets, and paws— 
 
 He seems full of blunt—is at each race and hunt, 
 
 Tis odd how he makes out the cause. 
 
 '‘Here’s generallissimo, little Tom Tit, 
 
 Just giving his rib an airing— 
 
 He’ll be no great prize, if esteemed by his size, 
 
 Of mankind he seems bnt a paring. 
 
 “And here perpendicular Michael C-y, 
 
 The queerest equestrian alive ? 
 
 Said Nick, “he is mine, tho he cuts it so fine. 
 
 At my home he’ll surely arrive. 
 
 We understand that our friend Michael, is appointed 
 out-rider to Captain Speedy, whose vehicle is like 
 nothing in heaven above on the earth beneath, or the 
 waters under the earth. 
 
 Said Nick, I’m fatigued now my dearest J.P., 
 
 Let us go have a glass of ale— 
 
 Tho you laugh with me still, I am sure you are ill, 
 
 For you look exceedingly pale.” 
 
 The fatherly solicitude expressed by his Majesty, to out friend, does 
 infinite credit to his feelings, and we are sure J. P. was accordingly 
 grateful—there are a few verses more, which we omit, descriptive of 
 their journey to the Shades, in which there are a few sage observations 
 from Nick, called forth by passing the Nassau-street and Fredriek-street 
 lielis, Having had a glass of ale and a cigar, they took a tender leave 
 of each other; the devil promising soon again to repeat his visit, and 
 giving our friend a warm invitation to his palace, which he with all due 
 gratitude declined. 
 
 FINIS.