Might, tainted by such coarse infection,
Run mad in th' opposite direction,
And think, poor man, 'tis only given
To linsey-woolsey to reach Heaven!

Just fancy what a shock 'twould be
Our Goulbourn in his fits to see,
Tearing into a thousand particles

His once loved Nine and Thirty Articles;
(Those Articles his friend, the Duke,1**
For Gospel, t'other night, mistook ;)
Cursing cathedrals, deans, and singers-
Wishing the ropes might hang the ringers-
Pelting the church with blasphemies,
Even worse than Parson Beverley's ;-
And ripe for severing Church and State,
Like any creedless reprobate,
Or like that class of Methodists
Prince Waterloo styles "Atheists!"

But 'tis too much-the Muse turns pale,
And o'er the picture drops a veil,
Praying, God save the Goulbourns all
From mad Dissenters, great and small!

A DREAM OF HINDOSTAN.

risum teneatis, amici.

THE longer one lives, the more one learns," Said I, as off to sleep I went, Bemused with thinking of Tithe concerns, And reading a book, by the Bishop of FERNS," On the Irish Church Establishment.

But, lo, in sleep, not long I lay,

When Fancy her usual tricks began,
And I found myself bewitched away
To a goodly city in Hindostan-
A city, where he, who dares to dine

On aught but rice, is deem'd a sinner;
Where sheep and kine are held divine,
And, accordingly-never dress'd for dinner.

THE BRUNSWICK CLUB.

A letter having been addressed to a very distinguished per sonage, requesting him to become the Patron of this Orange Club, a polite answer was forthwith returned, of which we have been fortunate enough to obtain a copy.

Brimstone-hall, September 1, 1828. Private.-LORD BELZEBUB presents To the Brunswick Club his compliments, And much regrets to say that he Cannot, at present, their Patron be. In stating this, Lord Belzebub

Assures, on his honor, the Brunswick Club,

That 'tisn't from any lukewarm lack
Of zeal or fire he thus holds back-
As even Lord Coal 11 himself is not
For the Orange party more red-hot;
But the truth is, till their Club affords
A somewhat decenter show of Lords,
And on its list of members gets
A few less rubbishy Baronets,
Lord Belzebub must beg to be
Excused from keeping such company.

Who the devil, he humbly begs to know,
Are Lord Glendone, and Lord Dunlo?
Or who, with a grain of sense, would go
To sit and be bored by Lord Mayo?
What living creature-except his nurse-
For Lord Mountcashel cares a curse,
Or thinks 'twould matter if Lord Muskerry
Were t'other side of the Stygian ferry?
Breathes there a man in Dublin town,
Who'd give but half of half-a-crown

To save from drowning my Lord Rathdoune,
Or who wouldn't also gladly hustle in
Lords Roden, Brandon, Cole, and Jocelyn?
In short, though, from his tenderest years,
Accustom'd to all sorts of Peers,
Lord Belzebub much questions whether
He ever yet saw, mix'd together,
As 'twere in one capacious tub,
Such a mess of noble silly-bub

As the twenty Peers of the Brunswick Club.
'Tis therefore impossible that Lord B.
Could stoop to such society,

Thinking, he owns, (though no great prig,)
For one in his station 'twere infra dig.
But he begs to propose, in the interim,
(Till they find some prop'rer Peers for him,)
His Highness of Cumberland, as Sub,
To take his place at the Brunswick Club-
Begging, meanwhile, himself to dub
Their obedient servant,

BELZEBUB.

It luckily happens, the Royal Duke
Resembles so much, in air and look,
The head of the Belzebub family,
That few can any difference see;
Which makes him, of course, the better suit
To serve as Lord B.'s substitute.

PROPOSALS FOR A GYNECOCRACY.

ADDRESSED TO A LATE RADICAL MEETING.

"Quas ipsa decus sibi dia Camilla Delegit pacisque bonas bellique ministras."-VIRGIL

As Whig Reform has had its range,
And none of us are yet content,
Suppose, my friends, by way of change,

We try a Female Parliament;
And since, of late, with he M. P.'s
We've fared so badly, take to she's-
Petticoat patriots, flounced John Russells,
Burdetts in blonde, and Broughams in bustles.

The plan is startling, I confess-
But 'tis but an affair of dress;
Nor see I much there is to choose

"Twixt Ladies (so they're thorough bred ones) In ribbons of all sorts of hues,

Or Lords in only blue or red ones.

At least, the fiddlers will be winners,
Whatever other trade advances;
As then, instead of Cabinet dinners,

We'll have, at Almack's, Cabinet dances; Nor let this world's important questions Depend on Ministers' digestions.

If Ude's receipts have done things ill,
To Weippert's band they may go better;
There's Lady**, in one quadrille,

Would settle Europe, if you'd let her:

And who the deuce or asks, or cares,
When Whigs or Tories have undone 'em,
Whether they've danced through State affairs,
Or simply, dully, dined upon 'em?

Hurrah then for the Petticoats!
To them we pledge our free-born votes;
We'll have all she, and only she-

Pert blues shall act as "best debaters," Old dowagers our Bishops be,

And termagants our Agitators.

If Vestris, to oblige the nation,
Her own Olympus will abandon,
And help to prop th' Administration,

It can't have better legs to stand on.
The famed Macaulay (Miss) shall show,
Each evening, forth in learn'd oration;
Shall move (midst general cries of "Oh!")
For full returns of population:
And, finally, to crown the whole,
The Princess Olive, Royal soul,
Shall from her bower in Banco Regis,
Descend, to bless her faithful lieges,
And, 'mid our Union's loyal chorus,
Reign jollily for ever o'er us.

Sir,

TO THE EDITOR OF THE

Having heard some rumors respecting the strange and awful visitation under which Lord Henley has for some time past been suffering, in consequence of his declared hostility to "anthems, solos, duets," 153 &c., I took the liberty of making inquiries at his Lordship's house this morning, and lose no time in transmitting to you such particulars as I could collect.

And whereas, none can solve our queries
As to where this virtuous Peer is,
Notice is hereby given that all
May forthwith to inquiring fall,
As, once the thing's well set about,
No doubt but we shall hunt him out.

His Lordship's mind, of late, they say,
Hath been in an uneasy way,
Himself and colleagues not being let
To climb into the Cabinet,
To settle England's state affairs,
Hath much, it seems, unsettled theirs;
And chief to this stray Plenipo
Hath been a most distressing blow.
Already, certain to receive a
Well-paid mission to the Neva,
And be the bearer of kind words
To tyrant Nick from Tory Lords,—
To fit himself for free discussion,
His Lordship had been learning Russian;
And all so natural to him were

The accents of the Northern bear,

That, while his tones were in your ear, you
Might swear you were in sweet Siberia.
And still, poor Peer, to old and young,
He goes on raving in that tongue;
Tells you how much you would enjoy a
Trip to Dalnodoubrowskoya:157
Talks of such places, by the score, on
As Oulisfflirmchinagoboron,158

And swears (for he at nothing sticks)
That Russia swarms with Raskol-niks,150
Though one such Nick, God knows, must be
A more than ample quantity.

Such are the marks by which to know
This strayed or stolen Plenipo;
And whosoever brings or sends
The unhappy statesman to his friends,
On Carlton Terrace, shall have thanks,
And-any paper but the Bank's.

P. S. Some think, the disappearance
Of this our diplomatic Peer hence
Is for the purpose of reviewing,
In person, what dear Mig is doing,
So as to 'scape all tell-tale letters
'Bout Beresford, and such abettors,-
The only "wretches" for whose aid160
Letters seem not to have been made.

THE DANCE OF BISHOPS;

OR, THE EPISCOPAL QUADRILLE.101

A DREAM.

1833.

"Solemn dances were, on great festivals and celebrations, admitted among the primitive Christians, in which even the Bishops and dignified Clergy were performers. Scaliger says, that the first Bishops were called Præsules,162 for no other reason than that they led off these dances."-Cyclopædia, art. Dances.

I'VE had such a dream-a frightful dream—
Though funny, mayhap, to wags 'twill seem,
By all who regard the Church, like us,
"Twill be thought exceedingly ominous!

As reading in bed I lay last night-
Which (being insured) is my delight—
I happen'd to doze off just as I got to
The singular fact which forms my motto.
Only think, thought I, as I dozed away,
Of a party of Churchmen dancing the hay!
Clerks, curates, and rectors, capering all,
With a neat-legg'd Bishop to open the ball!

Now high, now low, now this, now that,

That none could guess, what the devil he'd be at; Though, watching his various steps, some thought That a step in the Church was all he sought.

But alas, alas! while thus so gay,
These reverend dancers frisk'd away,
Nor Paul himself (not the saint, but he
Of the Opera-house) could brisker be,
There gather'd a gloom around their glee-
A shadow, which came and went so fast,

That ere one could say, ""Tis there," 'twas past-
And, lo, when the scene again was clear'd,
Ten of the dancers had disappear'd!
Ten able-bodied quadrillers swept

From the hallow'd floor where late they stepp'd,
While twelve was all that footed it still,
On the Irish side of that grand Quadrille!

Nor this the worst:-still danced they on,

But the pomp was sadden'd, the smile was gone;
And again, from time to time, the same
Ill-omen'd darkness round them came-
While still, as the light broke out anew,
Their ranks look'd less by a dozen or two;
Till ah! at last there were only found
Just Bishops enough for a four-hands-round;
And when I awoke, impatient getting,
I left the last holy pair poussetting!

N. B.-As ladies in years, it seems,
Have the happiest knack at solving dreams,
I shall leave to my ancient feminine friends
Of the Standard to say what this portends.

DICK * * *

A CHARACTER.

Of various scraps and fragments built,
Borrow'd alike from fools and wits,
Dick's mind was like a patchwork quilt,
Made up of new, old, motley bits-
Where, if the Co. call'd in their shares,
If petticoats their quota got,
And gowns were all refunded theirs,

The quilt would look but shy, God wot.

And thus he still, new plagiaries seeking,

Reversed ventriloquism's trick,

For, 'stead of Dick through others speaking, 'Twas others we heard speak through Dick.

A Tory now, all bounds exceeding,

Now best of Whigs, now worst of rats; One day, with Malthus, foe to breeding, The next, with Sadler, all for brats,

Poor Dick!-and how else could it be?
With notions all at random caught,
A sort of mental fricassee,

Made up of legs and wings of thought-
The leavings of the last Debate, or
A dinner, yesterday, of wits,
Where Dick sat by, and, like a waiter,
Had the scraps for perquisites.

A CORRECTED REPORT OF SOME LATE SPEECHES.

"Then I heard one saint speaking, and another saint said unto that saint."

1834.

166

St. SINCLAIR rose and declared in sooth,
That he wouldn't give sixpence to Maynooth
He had hated priests the whole of his life,
For a priest was a man who had no wife,165
And, having no wife, the Church was his mother,
The Church was his father, sister, and brother.
This being the case, he was sorry to say,
That a gulf 'twixt Papist and Protestant lay,"
So deep and wide, scarce possible was it
To say even "how d'ye do?" across it:
And though your Liberals, nimble as fleas,
Could clear such gulfs with perfect ease,
'Twas a jump that naught on earth could make
Your proper, heavy-built Christian take.
No, no,-if a Dance of Sects must be,
He would set to the Baptist willingly,'
At the Independent deign to smirk,
And rigadoon with old Mother Kirk;
Nay even, for once, if needs must be,
He'd take hands round with all the three;
But, as to a jig with Popery, no,—
To the Harlot ne'er would he point his toe.

167

St. Mandeville was the next that rose,-
A Saint who round, as pedlar, goes,
With his pack of piety and prose,
Heavy and hot enough, God knows,—
And he said that Papists were much inclined
To extirpate all of Protestant kind,
Which he couldn't, in truth, so much condemn,
Having rather a wish to extirpate them;