Set the first of his own dear legitimate feet,' (Modell'd out so exactly, and-God bless the mark! 'Tis a foot, Dolly, worthy so Grand a Monarque), He exclaim'd, "Oh, mon Roi!" and, with teardropping eye,

Stood to gaze on the spot - while some Jacobin, nigh,

Mutter'd out with a shrug, (what an insolent thing!)

"Ma foi, he be right- 'tis de Englishman's King; And dat gros pied de cochon-begar, me vil say Dat de foot look mosh better, if turn'd toder way."

1 To commemorate the landing of Louis le Désiré from England, the impression of his foot is marked out on the pier at Calais, and a pillar with an inscription raised opposite to the spot.

2 Ci-git la jambe de, &c. &c.

Our party consists (in a neat Calais job)
Of Papa and myself, Mr. CONNOR and BOB.
You remember how sheepish Boв look'd at Kil-
randy,

But, Lord! he's quite alter'd they've made him a Dandy;

A thing, you know, whisker'd, great-coated, and lac'd,

Like an hour-glass, exceedingly small in the waist: Quite a new sort of creatures, unknown yet to scholars,

With heads, so immovably stuck in shirt-collars, That seats, like our music-stools, soon must be found them,

To twirl, when the creatures may wish to look round them.

In short, dear, "a Dandy" describes what I mean,
And BOB's far the best of the genus I've seen:
An improving young man, fond of learning, am-
bitious,

And goes now to Paris to study French dishes, Whose names - think, how quick! he already knows pat,

A la braise, petits pâtés, and—what d'ye call that
They inflict on potatoes?-oh! maître d'hôtel-
I assure you, dear DOLLY, he knows them as wel
As if nothing else all his life he had eat,
Though a bit of them BOBBY has never touch'd yet;
But just knows the names of French dishes and
cooks,

As dear Pa knows the titles of authors and books.

1

I've thought of thee and of thy glories,
Thou guest of Kings, and King of Tories!
Reflecting how thy fame has grown

And spread, beyond man's usual share,
At home, abroad, till thou art known,

Like Major SEMPLE, every where!
And marv'lling with what powers of breath,
Your Lordship, having speech'd to death
Some hundreds of your fellow-men,

Next speech'd to Sov'reign's ears, and when
All Sov'reigns else were doz'd, at last
Speech'd down the Sov'reign' of Belfast.
Oh! mid the praises and the trophies
Thou gain'st from Morosophs and Sophis;
Mid all the tributes to thy fame.

There's one thou should'st be chieflypleas'd atThat Ireland gives her snuff thy name,

And C

GH's the thing now sneez'd at!

But hold, my pen
-a truce to praising-
Though ev'n your Lordship will allow
The theme's temptations are amazing;

But time and ink run short, and now,
(As thou wouldst say, my guide and teacher
In these gay metaphoric fringes,
I must embark into the feature

On which this letter chiefly hinges ;) — 2 My Book, the Book that is to prove · And will, (so help ye Sprites above, That sit on clouds, as grave as judges, Watching the labours of the FUDGES!) Will prove that all the world, at present, Is in a state extremely pleasant; That Europe - thanks to royal swords And bay'nets, and the Duke commanding Enjoys a peace which, like the Lord's,

Passeth all human understanding; That France prefers her go-cart King To such a coward scamp as BONEY; Though round, with each a leading-string, There standeth many a Royal crony For fear the chubby, tott'ring thing

Should fall, if left there loney-poney; ·
That England, too, the more her debts,
The more she spends, the richer gets;
And that the Irish, grateful nation!

Remember when by thee reign'd over,
And bless thee for their flagellation,
AS HELOISA did her lover !__3

1 The title of the chief magistrate of Belfast, before whom his Lordship (with the "studium immane loquendi" attributed by Ovid to that chattering and rapacious class of birds, the pies) delivered sundry long and self-gratulatory orations, on his return from the Continent. It was at one of these Irish dinners that his gallant brother, Lord 8., proposed the health of " The best cavalry officer in Europe- the Regent !"

2 Verbatim from one of the noble Viscount's Speeches-"And now, Sir, I must embark into the feature on which this question chiefly hinges."

3 See her Letters.

That Poland, left for Russia's lunch
Upon the side-board, snug reposes:
While Saxony's as pleas'd as Punch,
And Norway "on a bed of roses!"
That, as for some few million souls,

Transferr'd by contract, bless the clods!
If half were strangled-Spaniards, Poles,
And Frenchmen--'twouldn't make much odds,
So Europe's goodly Royal ones,
Sit easy on their sacred thrones;
So FERDINAND embroiders gaily,"
And Louis eats his salmi3, daily;
So time is left to Emperor SANDY
To be half Cæsar and half Dandy;
And G -GE the R-G-T (who'd forget
That doughtiest chieftain of the set?)
Hath wherewithal for trinkets new,

For Dragons after Chinese models,
And chambers where Duke Ho and Soo,
Might come and nine times knock their
noddles!-

All this my Quarto 'll prove-much more
Than Quarto ever prov'd before:
In reas'ning with the Post I'll vie,
My facts the Courier shall supply,
My jokes V-NS-T, P-LE my sense,
And thou, sweet Lord, my eloquence!

My journal penn'd by fits and starts,

On BIDDY's back or BOBBY's shoulder, (My son, my Lord, a youth of parts,

Who longs to be a small place-holder,)
Is-though I say't, that shouldn't say-
Extremely good; and, by the way,
One extract from it-only one-

To show its spirit, and I've done.
"Jul. thirty-first.-Went, after snack,
To the Cathedral of St. Denny;

"Sigh'd o'er the Kings of ages back,

"And-gave the old Concierge a penny. "(Mem.-Must see Rheims, much fam'd, 'tis said, "For making Kings and gingerbread.)

"Was shown the tomb, where lay, so stately,

"A little Bourbon, buried lately,

"Thrice high and puissant, we were told,

"Though only twenty-four hours old !

"Hear this, thought I, ye Jacobins :

'Ye Burdetts, tremble in your skins;

If Royalty, but ag'd a day,

"Can boast such high and puissant sway,

1 There is a fulness and breadth in this portrait of Royalty, which reminds us of what Pliny says, in speaking of Trajan's great qualítics: -“nonne longè lateque Principem ostentant ?"

2 See the Quarterly Review for May, 1816, where Mr. Hobhouse sccused of having written his book "in a back street of the French capital."

3 The Bill of Fare.- Véry, a well-known restaurateur.

Mr. Bob alludes particularly, I presume, to the famous Jury Degustateur, which used to assemble at the Hôtel of M. Grimod de la Reynière, and of which this modern Archestratus has given an account in his Almanach des Gourmands, cinquième année D. 73.

The fairy-land of cookery and gourmandise: "Pays, où le ciel offre les viandes toutes cuites, et où, comme on parle, les alouettes tombent toutes roties. Du Latin, coquere."- Duchat.

After dreaming some hours of the land of Cocaigne,

That Elysium of all that is friand and nice, Where for hail they have bon-bons, and claret for rain,

And the skaiters in winter show off on cream-ice; Where so ready all nature its cookery yields, Macaroni au parmesan grows in the fields; Little birds fly about with the true pheasant taint, And the geese are all born with a liver complaint! I rise-put on neck-cloth-stiff, tight, as can beFor a lad who goes into the world, DICK, like me, Should have his neck tied up, you know—there's no doubt of it

Almost as tight as some lads who go out of it. With whiskers well oil'd, and with boots that "hold up

"The mirror to nature" so bright you could sup Off the leather like china; with a coat, too, that draws

On the tailor, who suffers, a martyr's applause!
With head bridled up, like a four-in-hand leader,
And stays-
devil's in them -too tight for a

feeder,

I strut to the old Café Hardy, which yet
Beats the field at a déjeûner à la fourchette.
There, DICK, what a breakfast! oh, not like your
ghost

Of a breakfast in England, your curst tea and toast;"

6 The process by which the liver of the unfortunate goose is enlarged, in order to produce that richest of all dainties, the foie gras, of which such renowned pâtés are made at Strasbourg and Toulouse, is thus described in the Cours Gastronomique : — “On déplume l'estomac des oies; on attache ensuite ces animaux aux chenets d'une cheminée, et on les nourrit devant le feu. La captivité et la chaleur donnent à ces volatiles une maladie népatique, qui fait gonfler leur foie," &c. p. 206.

7 Is Mr. Bob aware that his contempt for tea renders him liable to a charge of atheism? Such, at least, is the opinion cited in Christian. Falster. Amanitat. Philog." Atheum interpretabatur hominem ad herbâ The aversum." He would not, I think, have been so irreverent to this beverage of scholars, if he had read Peter Petit's Poem in praise of Tea, addressed to the learned Huet-or the Epigraphe which Pechlinus wrote for an altar he meant to

Then, some glasses of Beaune, to dilute-or, mayhap,

Chambertin', which you know's the pet tipple of NAP,

And which Dad, by the by, that legitimate stickler, Much scruples to taste, but I'm not so partic'lar.Your coffee comes next, by prescription: and then, DICK, 's

The coffee's ne'er-failing and glorious appendix,
(If books had but such, my old Grecian, depend on't,
I'd swallow ev'n W-TK-NS', for sake of the end
on't,)

A neat glass of parfait-amour, which one sips
Just as if bottled velvet2 tipp'd over one's lips.
This repast being ended, and paid for—(how odd!
Till a man's us'd to paying, there's something
so queer in't!)-

The sun now well out, and the girls all abroad, And the world enough air'd for us, Nobs, to appear in't,

We lounge up the Boulevards, where-oh, DICK, the phyzzes,

The turn-outs, we meet-what a nation of quizzes!
Here toddles along some old figure of fun,
With a coat you might date Anno Domini 1.;
A lac'd hat, worsted stockings, and-noble old soul!
A fine ribbon and cross in his best button-hole;
Just such as our PR CE, who nor reason nor

fun dreads,

Such hats!-fit for monkeys-I'd back Mrs. DRA

PER

To cut neater weather-boards out of brown paper: And coats-how I wish, if it wouldn't distress 'em, They'd club for old ВR-им-L, from Calais, to dress 'em!

The collar sticks out from the neck such a space, That you'd swear 'twas the plan of this headlopping nation,

To leave there behind them a snug little place
For the head to drop into, on decapitation.
In short, what with mountebanks, counts, and fri-
seurs,

Some mummers by trade, and the rest amateurs— What with captains in new jockey-boots and silk breeches,

Old dustmen with swinging great opera hats, And shoeblacks reclining by statues in niches, There never was seen such a race of Jack | Sprats!

From the Boulevards-but hearken!-yes-as I'm a sinner,

So no more at present-short time for adorning— The clock is just striking the half-hour to dinner; My Day must be finish'd some other fine morn.

ing.