When will the world shake off such yokes? oh, My next shall tell thee, bitterly shall tell, when Will that redeeming day shine out on men, As Heav'n and Nature meant mankind should be! When will this be?-or, oh! is it, in truth, * * * * * * * * Who, proud to kiss each sep'rate rod of pow'r, Except just the two words "superbe," "magnifique," The trimmings of that which I had home last week! It is call'd-I forget-à la-something which sounded Like alicampane-but, in truth, I'm confounded And bother'd, my dear, 'twixt that troublesome boy's (BOB'S) Cookery language, and Madame LE Ror's; What with fillets of roses, and fillets of veal, Things garni with lace, and things garni with eel, One's hair and one's cutlets both en papillote, And a thousand more things I shall ne'er have by rote, I can scarce tell the diff'rence, at least as to phrase, Between beef à la Psyché and curls à la braise.— But, in short, dear, I'm trick'd out quite à la Française, With my bonnet-so beautiful!-high up and poking, Like things that are put to keep chimneys from smoking. Where shall I begin with the endless delights Pa says (and you know, love, his Book's to make They will soon get the Pentateuch up in five acts. out Twas the Jacobins brought ev'ry mischief about) If, when of age, every man in the realm Had a voice like old LAïs,25 and chose to make use of it! No-never was known in this riotous sphere Here DANIEL, in pantomime,2 bids bold defiance In very thin clothing, and but little of it;- In a manner that, Boв says, is quite Eve-angelic? But in short, dear, 'twould take me a month to recite Such a breach of the peace as their singing, my All the exquisite places we're at, day and night; dear. So bad, too, you'd swear that the God of both arts, For setting a loud fit of asthma in parts, And composing a fine rumbling base to a colic! But, the dancing-ah! parlez-moi, DOLLY, de ça- Fly, fly to TITANIA, and ask her if she has swear, When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round, And, besides, ere I finish, I think you'll be glad That her steps are of light, that her home is the Well, it was but last night, as I stood and remark'd air, And she only par complaisance touches the ground. And when BIGOTTINI in PSYCHE dishevels Her black flowing hair, and by demons is driven, Ob! who does not envy those rude little devils, That hold her and hug her, and keep her from Then, the music-so softly its cadences die, On the looks and odd ways of the girls who em- The impatience of some for the perilous flight, fright, That there came up-imagine, dear DOLL, if you can A fine sallow, sublime, sort of Werter-faced man, oft) The dear Corsair expression, half savage, half soft, As hyænas in love may be fancied to look, or A something between ABELARD and old BLUCHER What a crisis 'twould be for your friend BIDDY Up he came, DOLL, to me. and uncov'ring his hear (Rather bald, but so warlike!) in bad English said. FUDGE! "Ah! my dear-if Ma'mselle vil be so very goodJust for von littel course"-though I scarce understood What he wish'd me to do, I said, thank him, I would. Off we set-and, though faith, dear, I hardly knew whether My head or my heels were the uppermost then, For 'twas like heav'n and earth, DOLLY, coming together, Yet, spite of the danger, we dared it again. And oh! as I gazed on the features and air Of the man, who for me all this peril defied, I could fancy almost he and I were a pair Of unhappy young lovers, who thus, side by side, Were taking, instead of rope, pistol, or dagger, a Desperate dash down the falls of Niagara! Looking sharp to the silver received at the door. Besides, too, they say that his grief for his Queen (Which was plain in this sweet fellow's face to be seen) Requires such a stimulant dose as this car is, Used three times a day with young ladies in Paris. Some Doctor, indeed, has declared that such grief Should-unless 'twould to utter despairing its folly push Fly to the Beaujon, and there seek relief By rattling, as Вов says, "like shot through a holly-bush," I must now bid adieu ;-only think, DOLLY, think If this should be the King-I have scarce slept a wink With imagining how it will sound in the papers And how all the Misses my good luck will grudge, When they read that Count RUPPIN, to drive away vapors, Has gone down the Beaujon with Miss BIDDY FUDGE. Nota Bene.-Papa's almost certain 'tis he- LETTER VI. FROM PHIL. FUDGE, ESQ., TO HIS BROTHER TIM FUDGE, ESQ., BARRISTER AT LAW. YOURS of the 12th received just nowThanks for the hint, my trusty brother! 'Tis truly pleasing to see how We, FUDGES, stand by one another. But never fear-I know my chap, And he knows me too-verbum sap. My Lord and I are kindred spirits, Like in our ways as two young ferrets; Both fashion'd, as that supple race is, To twist into all sorts of places ;Creatures lengthy, lean, and hungering Fond of blood and burrow-mongering. Have form'd a Club this season, where Than an exceedingly well-bred tyrant; Meaning Informers, kept at high rent-35 Gem'men, who touch'd the Treasury glist'ners, Like us, for being trusty list'ners; And picking up each tale and fragment, For royal MIDAS's Green Bag meant. "And wherefore," said this best of Peers, "Should not the REGENT too have ears," "To reach as far. as long and wide as 66 36 Those of his model, good King MIDAS?" This speech was thought extremely good, And (rare for him) was understoodInstant we drank "The REGENT's Ears," With three times three illustrious cheers, Which made the room resound like thunder"The REGENT Ears, and may he ne'er "From foolish shame, like MIDAS, wear "Old paltry wigs to keep them under !"*7 This touch at our old friends, the Whigs, Made us as merry all as grigs. In short, (I'll thank you not to mention 38 To the chief Rats in upper stations ;39 Your WEMYSS, VERNONS,-half-fledged sinners, Who shame us by their imitations; Not things as mute as Punch, when bought, Are, after all their twists and bends, Of which your natural histories brag, Yet still these Tyros in the cause Our music's good you may be sure; Though to the Base by nature suited; And has them both well executed." HERTFORD, who, though no Rat himself, Delights in all such liberal arts, Drinks largely to the House of Guelph, And superintends the Corni parts. While CANNING,12 who'd be first by choice, Consents to take an under voice; And GROVES," who well that signal knows, Watches the Volti subitos."4 In short, as I've already hinted, (We often tell the tale with laughter,) Who used to hide the pikes themselves, Then hang the fools who found them after I doubt not you could find us, too, (Delicious thought!) and had it shot at, To bring some Papists to the shelf, And now, my brother, guide, and friend, Because I saw your nerves were shaken With anxious fears lest I should fail In this new, loyal, course I've taken. But, bless your heart! you need not doubtWe, FUDGES, know what we're about. Look round, and say if you can see A much more thriving family. There's JACK, the doctor-night and day Hundreds of patients so besiege him, You'd swear that all the rich and gay Fell sick on purpose to oblige him. And while they think, the precious ninnies, He's counting o'er their pulse so steady, The rogue but counts how many guineas He's fobb'd, for that day's work, already, I'll ne'er forget th' old maid's alarm, When, feeling thus Miss Sukey Flirt, he Said, as he dropp'd her shrivell'd arm, "Damn'd bad this morning-only thirty!" Your dowagers, too, every one, So gen'rous are, when they call him in, That he might now retire upon The rheumatisms of three old women. Then, whatsoe'er your ailments are, He can so learnedly explain ye 'emYour cold, of course, is a catarrh, Your headache is a hemi-cranium :His skill, too, in young ladies' lungs, The grace with which, most mild of men, He begs them to put out their tongues, Then bids them-put them in again: Of present times and ages back, So much for physic-then, in law too, Th' immortal name of FUDGE than thou. With which you play'd the patriot's part, And is promoted thence by him Or wrong or right-but ten times warmer And leave her not a leg to stand on. Thy cases, cited from the BibleThy candor, when it falls to thee To help in trouncing for a libel;— "God knows, I, from my soul, profess "To hate all bigots and benighters! "God knows, I love, to ev'n excess, "The sacred Freedom of the Press, "My only aim's to-crush the writers." These are the virtues, TIM, that draw The briefs into thy bag so fast; And these, oh TIM-if Law be LawWill raise thee to the Bench at last. |