Who threaten'd last year, in a superfine passion,
To cut me, and bring the old K-ng into fashion.
This is all I can lay to my conscience at present;
When such is my temper, so neutral, so pleasant,
So royally free from all troublesome feelings,
So little encumber'd by faith in my dealings
(And that I'm consistent the world will allow,
What I was at Newmarket the same I am now).
When such are my merits (you know I hate crack-
ing),

I hope, like the Vender of Best Patent Blacking, "To meet with the gen'rous and kind approbation "Of a candid, enlighten'd, and liberal nation."

By the bye, ere I close this magnificent Letter, (No man, except Pole, could have writ you a better,)

"Twould please me if those, whom I've humbug'd so long!

With the notion (good men!) that I knew right

from wrong,

Would a few of them join me-mind, only a fewTo let too much light in on me never would do; But even Grey's brightness shan't make me afraid, While I've C-md-n and Eld-n to fly to for shade;

Nor will Holland's clear intellect do us much harm, While there's W-stm-rel-nd near him to weaken the charm.

As for Moira's high spirit, if aught can subdue it, Sure joining with H-rtf-rd and Y-rm-th will do it!

Between R-d-r and Wh-rt-n let Sheridan sit,
And the fogs will soon quench even Sheridan's wit:
And against all the pure public feeling that glows
Ev'n in Whitbread himself we've a Host in G-rge
R-se!
[may,
So, in short, if they wish to have Places, they
And I'll thank you to tell all these matters to Grey,"
Who, I doubt not, will write (as there's no time to
lose)

By the twopenny post to tell Grenville the news;
And now,
dearest Fred (though I've no predilec-
tion),
Believe me yours always with truest affection.

P.S. A copy of this is to P-rc-1 going;3 Good Lord, how St. Stephen's will ring with his crowing!

"I cannot conclude without expressing the gratification I should feel if some of those persons with whom the early habits of my public life were formed would strengthen my hands, and constitute a part of my government."-Prince's Letter.

2 You are authorised to communicate these sentiments to Lord Grey, who, I have no doubt, will make them known to Lord Grenville."-Ibid.

ANACREONTIC.

TO A PLUMASSIER.

FINE and feathery artisan
Best of Plumists (if you can
With your art so far presume)
Make for me a Pr-ce's Plume-
Feathers soft and feathers rare,
Such as suits a Pr-ce to wear.

First, thou downiest of men, Seek me out a fine Pea-hen; Such a Hen, so tall and grand, As by Juno's side might stand, If there were no cocks at hand. Seek her feathers, soft as down, Fit to shine on Pr-ce's crown; If thou canst not find them, stupid! Ask the way of Prior's Cupid.'

Ranging these in order due, Pluck me next an old Cuckoo; Emblem of the happy fates Of easy, kind, cornuted mates. Pluck him well-be sure you doWho wouldn't be an old Cuckoo, Thus to have his plumage blest, Beaming on a R-y-l crest?

Bravo, Plumist!-now what bird
Shall we find for Plume the third?
You must get a learned Owl,
Bleakest of black-letter fowl,-
Bigot bird, that hates the light,$
Foe to all that's fair and bright.
Seize his quills, (so form'd to pen
Books, that shun the search of men;
Books, that, far from every eye,
In "swelter'd venom sleeping" lie,)
Stick them in between the two,
Proud Pea-hen and old Cuckoo,
Now you have the triple feather,
Bind the kindred stems together
With a silken tie, whose hue
Once was brilliant Buff and Blue.
Sullied now- - alas, how much!
Only fit for Y-rm-th's touch.

There-enough-thy task is done;
Present, worthy G-ge's Son;
Now, beneath, in letters neat,

Write "I SERVE," and all's complete.

3 "I shall send a copy of this letter immediately to Mr. Perceval." - Ibid.

+ See Prior's poem, entitled "The Dove."

5 P-rc-v-1.

6 In allusion to "the Book" which created such a sensation at that period.

EXTRACTS

FROM THE DIARY OF A POLITICIAN.

Wednesday.

THROUGH M-nch-st-r Square took a canter just now

Met the old yellow chariot', and made a low bow. This I did, of course, thinking 'twas loyal and civil,

But got such a look-oh 'twas black as the devil! How unlucky!-incog. he was trav'lling about, And I, like a noodle, must go find him out.

Mem.-when next by the old yellow chariot I ride,

To remember there is nothing princely inside.

Thursday.

At Levee to-day made another sad blunder—
What can be come over me lately, I wonder?
The Pr-ce was as cheerful, as if, all his life,
He had never been troubled with Friends or a
Wife-

"Fine weather," says he-to which I, who must prate,

Answered, "Yes, Sir, but changeable rather, of late." He took it, I fear, for he look'd somewhat gruff, And handled his new pair of whiskers so rough, That before all the courtiers I fear'd they'd come off,

And then, Lord, how Geramb2 would triumphantly scoff!

Mem.-to buy for son Dicky some unguent or lotion

To nourish his whiskers-sure road to promotion.3

6 One of those antediluvian Princes, with whom Manetho and Whiston seem so intimately acquainted. If we had the Memoirs of Thoth, from which Manetho compiled his History, we should find, I dare say, that Crack was only a Regent, and that he, perhaps, succeeded Typhon, who (as Whiston says) was the last King of the Antediluvian Dynasty.

Some were chisell'd too fine, some had heads 'stead of noddles,

In short, they were all much too godlike for Crack.

So he took to his darling old Idols again, And, just mending their legs and new bronzing their faces,

In open defiance of Gods and of men,

Set the monsters up grinning once more in their places.

WHAT'S MY THOUGHT LIKE?

Quest. Why is a Pump like V-sc-nt C-stlr-gh?

Answ. Because it is a slender thing of wood,

That up and down its awkward arm doth sway, And coolly spout and spout and spout away, In one weak, washy, everlasting flood!

EPIGRAM.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN A CATHOLIC DELEGATE AND HIS R-Y-L H-GHN-SS THE D-E OF C-B-L-D.

SAID his Highness to Ned', with that grim face of his,

"Why refuse us the Veto, dear Catholic Neddy?" "Because, Sir," said Ned, looking full in his phiz, "You're forbidding enough, in all conscience, already!"

WREATHS FOR THE MINISTERS.

AN ANACREONTIC.

HITHER, Flora, Queen of Flowers!
Haste thee from Old Brompton's bowers-
Or, (if sweeter that abode)

From the King's well-odour'd Road,
Where each little nursery bud

Breathes the dust and quaffs the mud.

1 Edward Byrne, the head of the Delegates of the Irish Catholics. 2 The ancients, in like manner, crowned their Lares, or Household Gods. See Juvenal, Sat. 9. iv 138.- Plutarch; too, tells us that Household Gods were then, as they are now, "much given to

Hither come and gaily twine
Brightest herbs and flowers of thine
Into wreaths for those, who rule us,
Those, who rule and (some say) fool us—
Flora, sure, will love to please
England's Household Deities!*

First you must then, willy-nilly, Fetch me many an orange lilyOrange of the darkest dye

Irish G-ff-rd can supply;— Choose me out the longest sprig, And stick it in old Eld-n's wig.

Find me next a Poppy posy, Type of his harangues so dozy, Garland gaudy, dull and cool, To crown the head of L-v-rp-l. "Twill console his brilliant brows For that loss of laurel boughs, Which they suffer'd (what a pity!) On the road to Paris City.

Next, our C-stl-r-gh to crown, Bring me from the County Down, Wither'd Shamrocks, which have been Gilded o'er to hide the green(Such as H-df--t brought away From Pall-mall last Patrick's day)Stitch the garland through and through With shabby threads of every hue; — And as, Goddess! - entre nous —— His lordship loves (though best of men) A little torture now and then, Crimp the leaves, thou first of Syrens, Crimp them with thy curling-irons

The Noble Translator had, at first, laid the scene of these imagined dangers of his Man of Conscience among the Papists of Spain, and had translated the words "quæ loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes" thus-"The fabling Spaniard licks the French;" but, recollecting that it is our interest just now to be respectful to Spanish Catholics (though there is certainly no earthly reason for our being even commonly civil to Irish ones), he altered the passage as it stands at present.

4

Namque me silva lupus in Sabina,
Dum meam canto Lalagen, et ultra
Terininum curis vagor expeditis,
Fugit inermem.

I cannot help calling the reader's attention to the peculiar ingenuity with which these lines are paraphrased. Not to mention the happy conversion of the Wolf into a Papist, (seeing that Romulus was suckled by a wolf, that Rome was founded by Romulus, and that the Pope has always reigned at Rome), there is something particularly neat in supposing "ultra terminum" to mean vacation time: and then the modest consciousness with which the Noble and Learned Translator has avoided touching upon the words curis expeditis," (or, as it has been otherwise read, "cauKis expeditis,") and the felicitous idea of his being "inermis" when "without his wig," are altogether the most delectable specimens of paraphrase in our language.

9 That model of Princes, the Emperor Commodus, was particularly luxurious in the dressing and ornamenting of his hair. His conscience, however, would not suffer him to trust himself with a barber, and he used, accordingly, to burn off his beard-timere tonsoris," says Lampridius. (Hist. August. Scripttr.) The di lute Elius Verus, too, was equally attentive to the decoratimərhə wig. (See Jul. Capitolin.) Indeed, this was not the en primerly trait in the character of Verus, as he had likewise a most hearty and dignified contempt for his Wife. See his insulting answer to her in Spartianus.