Obrazy na stronie

what power

every side;


Then would the world have seen again Fierce was the cry, and fulminant the

ban, A people can put forth in Freedom's “ Assassinate, who will - enchain, who hour;

can, Then would the fire of France once more “ The vile, the faithless, outlawed, lowhave blazed;

born man!" For every single sword, reluctant raised " Faithless!” and this from you In the stale cause of an oppressive throne, from you, forsooth, Millions would then have leaped forth Ye pious Kings, pure paragons of truth, in her own;

Whose honesty all knew, for all had And never, never had the unholy stain

tried; Of Bourbon feet disgraced her shores Whose true Swiss zeal had served on again.

Whose fame for breaking faith so long But fate decreed not so — the Imperial

was known, Bird,

Well might ye claim the craft as all your That, in his neighboring cage, unfeared, own, unstirred,

And lash your lordly tails and fume to Had seemed to sleep with head beneath his wing,

Such low-born apes of Royal perfidy! Yet watched the moment for a daring Yes– yes to you alone did it belong spring; —

To sin for ever, and yet ne'er do wrong,– Well might he watch, when deeds were The frauds, the lies of Lords legitimate done, that made

Are but fine policy, deep strokes of His own transgressions whiten in their state; shade;

But let some upstart dare to soar so Well might he hope a world thus trampled high o'er

In Kingly craft, and “outlaw” is the By clumsy tyrants would be his once cry!

What, tho' long years of mutual treachery Forth from his cage the eagle burst to Had peopled full your diplomatic shelves light,

With ghosts of treaties, murdered 'mong From steeple on to steeple 1 winged his yourselves; • flight,

Tho' each by turns was knave and dupe With calm and easy grandeur, to that

- what then? throne

A Holy League would set all straight From which a Royal craven just had again; flown;

Like Juno's virtue, which a dip or two And resting there, as in his eyry, furled In some blest fountain made as good Those wings, whose very rustling shook

as new ! 2 the world!

Most faithful Russia — faithful to who

e'er What was your fury then, ye crowned Could plunder best and give him amplest

share; array, Whose feast of spoil, whose plundering

Who, even when vanquisht, sure to gain holiday

his ends, Was thus broke up, in all its greedy For want of foes to rob, made free with mirth,

friends, 3 By one bold chieftain's stamp on Gallic earth!

2 singulis annis in quodam Atticæ fonte lota

virginitatem recuperâsse fingitur. L'aigle volera de clocher en clocher, jus 3 At the Peace of Tilsit, where he abandoned qu'aux tours de Notre-Dame." - Napoleon's his ally, Prussia, to France, and received a porProclamation on landing from Elba.

tion of her territory.


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And now,

· ESQ.

the way!

And, deepening still by amiable grada To frank their spoil, and without fear or tions,

shame When foes were stript of all, then fleeced Call down the Holy Trinity 2 to bless relations ! 1

Partition leagues and deeds of devilishMost mild and saintly Prussia — steeped

ness! to the ears

But hold - enough — soon would this In persecuted Poland's blood and tears,

swell of rage with all her harpy wings out

O’erflow the boundaries of my scanty spread

page; O’er severed Saxony's devoted head!

So, here I pause

farewell another Pure Austria too — whose history naught day, repeats

Return we to those Lords of prayer and But broken leagues and subsidized de prey, feats;

Whose loathsome cant, whose frauds by Whose faith, as Prince, extinguisht Ven right divine, ice shows,

Deserve a lash — oh! weightier far than Whose faith, as man, a widowed daugh mine!

ter knows! And thou, oh England -- who, tho'

LETTER VIII. once as shy

FROM MR BOB FUDGE TO RICHARD As cloistered maids, of shame or perfidy, Art now broke in, and, thanks to CAS


mending my stays, In all that's worst and falsest lead'st

Which I knew would go smash with me

one of these days,

And, at yesterday's dinner, when, full Such was the pure divan, whose pens to the throttle, and wits

We lads had begun our dessert with a The escape from Elba frightened into

bottle fits;

Of neat old Constantia, on my leaning Such were the saints, who doomed Na

back POLEON's life,

Just to order another, by Jove, I went In virtuous frenzy, to the assassin's knife.

crack ! Disgusting crew! who would not gladly Or, as honest Tom said, in his nautical fly

phrase, To open, downright, bold-faced tyranny,

'Damn my eyes, Bob, in doubling the To honest guilt, that dares do all but lie,

Cape you've missed stays."' 4 From the false, juggling craft of men

So, of course, as no gentleman 's seen like these,

out without them, Their canting crimes and varnisht vil

They ’re now at the Schneider's 5 — and, lanies;

while he 's about them, These Holy Leaguers, who then loudest boast

2 The usual preamble of these flagitious comOf faith and honor, when they've pacts. In the same spirit, Catherine, after the stained them most;

dreadful massacre of Warsaw, ordered a solemn

“thanksgiving to God in all the churches, for the From whose affection men should shrink

blessings conferred upon the Poles ; and com

manded that each of them should “swear fidelity As from their hate, for they'll be fleeced

and loyalty to her, and to shed in her defence the

last drop of their blood, as they should answer by both;

for it to God, and his terrible judgment, kissing Who, even while plundering, forge Reli the holy word and cross of their Saviour! gion's name

3 An English tailor at Paris.

4 A ship is said to miss stays, when she does 1 The seizure of Finland from his relative of

not obey the helm in tacking. Sweden,

5 The dandy term for a tailor.

as loath

and crop:

Here goes for a letter, post-haste, neck For, 't

odd, these mounseers,


we've wasted our wealth Let us see — in my last I was — where And our strength, till we 've thrown did I stop?

ourselves into a phthisic, Oh! I know at the Boulevards, as To cram down their throats an old King motley a road as

for their health, Man ever would wish a day's lounging As we whip little children to make upon;

them take physic; With its cafés and gardens, hotels and Yet, spite of our good-natured money pagodas,

and slaughter, Its founts and old Counts sipping beer They hate us, as Beelzebub hates holyin the sun:

water ! With its houses of all architectures you But who the deuce cares, Dick, as long please,

as they nourish us From the Grecian and Gothic, Dick, Neatly as now, and good cookery flourdown by degrees

ishes To the pure Hottentot or the Brighton Long as, by bayonets protected, we Chinese;

Natties Where in temples antique you may May have our full fing at their salmis breakfast or dinner it,

and pâtés ? Lunch at a mosque and see Punch from And, truly, I always declared it would a minaret.

be pity Then, Dick, the mixture of bonnets and To burn to the ground such a choicebowers,

feeding city. Of foliage and frippery, fiacres and Had Dad but his way, he 'd have long

Aowers, Green-grocers, green gardens — one The whole batch to old Nick and the hardly knows whether

people, I own, 'T is country or town, they 're so messed If for no other cause than their curst up together!

monkey looks, And there, if one loves the romantic, one Well deserve a blow-up — but then,

damn it, their Cooks ! Jew clothes-men, like shepherds, re As to Marshals, and Statesmen, and all clined under trees;

their whole lineage, Or Quidnuncs, on Sunday, just fresh For aught that I care, you may knock from the barber's,

them to spinage; Enjoying their news and groseillel in But think, Dick, their Cooks

what a those arbors;

loss to mankind ! While gayly their wigs, like the tendrils, What a void in the world would their are curling,

art leave behind ! And founts of red currant-juice 2 round Their chronometer spits — their intense them are purling.


Their ovens — - their pots, that can soften Here, Dick, arm in arm as we chattering old ganders, stray,

All vanisht for ever

their miracles o’er, And receive a few civil « God-dems” And the Marmite Perpétuelle 3 bubbling by the way,

no more!

ago blown


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Forbid it, forbid it, ye Holy Allies ! While there St. VENECIA 3 sits hemming Take whatever ye fancy - take stat and frilling her ues, take money

Holy mouchoir o'er the door of some But leave them, oh leave them, their milliner;Perigueux pies,

Saint AUSTIN's the “outward and visible Their glorious goose-livers and high sign pickled tunny! 1

“Of an inward” cheap dinner, and pint Tho' many, I own, are the evils they've of small wine; brought us,

While St. DENYS hangs out o'er some Tho' Royalty 's here on her very last

hatter of ton, legs,

And possessing, good bishop, no head of Yet who can help loving the land that

his own, has taught us

Takes an interest in Dandies, who 've Six hundred and eighty-five ways to got next to none ! dress eggs? 2

Then we stare into shops read the

evening's affiches You see, Dick, in spite of their cries of Or, if some, who're Lotharios in feed"God-dam,"

ing, should wish " Coquin Anglais," et cætera - how Just to flirt with a luncheon, (a devilish

bad trick, generous I am! And now (to return, once again, to my

As it takes off the bloom of one's appe

tite, Dick,) Which will take us all night to get thro'

To the Passage des what d'ye call 't in this way,)

- des Panoramas 5 From the Boulevards we saunter thro' We quicken our pace, and there heartily

cram as many a street, Crack jokes on the natives mine, all Seducing young pâtés, as ever could

cozen Leave the Signs of the Times to political

One out of one's appetite, down by the

dozen. fops, And find twice as much fun in the Signs

We vary, of course — petits pâtés do one of the Shops;

day, Here, a Louis Dix-huit — there, a Mar

The next we've our lunch with the Gauf

frier Hollandais, 6 (Much in vogue since your eagles are

That popular artist, who brings out, like gone out of use)

SCOTT, Henri Quatres in shoals, and of Gods a His delightful productions so quick, hot

and hot; great many, But Saints are the most on hard duty of

Not the worse for the exquisite comment

that follows, any: St. Tony, who used all temptations to

Divine maresquino, which — Lord, how

one swallows ! spurn, Here hangs o'er a beer-shop, and tempts in his turn;

3 Veronica, the Saint of the Holy Handkerchief, is also, under the name of Venisse or

Venecia, the tutelary saint of milliners. 1 Le thon mariné, one of the most favourite and indigestible hors-d'æuvres. This fish is

4 St. Denys walked three miles after his head taken chiefly in the Golfe de Lyon. "La tête et

was cut off. The mot of a woman of wit upon le dessous du ventre sont les parties les plus re

this legend is well known: -"

"Je le crois bien; cherchées des gourmets." -" Cours Gastrono en pareil cas, il n'y a que le premier pas qui mique," p. 252.

coute." 2 The exact number mentioned by M. de la

5 Off the Boulevards Italiens. Reynière – "On connoit en France 685 manières 6 In the Palais Royal; successor, I believe, différentes d'accommoder les aufs ; sans compter to the Flamand, so long celebrated for the moëlcelles que nos savans imaginent chaque jour.leux of his Gaufres.

very neat

tinmas goose,

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may be,

R. F.

Once more, then, we saunter forth after Such, Dick, are the classical sports that our snack, or

content us, Subscribe a few francs for the price of a Till five o'clock brings on that hour so fiacre,

momentous, And drive far away to the old Montagnes That epoch - but whoa! my lad — here Russes,

comes the Schneider, Where we find a few twirls in the car of And, curse him, has made the stays three much use

inches wider To regenerate the hunger and thirst of Too wide by an inch and a half — what us sinners,

a Guy! Who ’ve lapst into snacks — the perdi- But, no matter — 't will all be set right tion of dinners.

by-and-by. And here, Dick-in answer to one of As we ’ve MASSINOT'S5 eloquent carte your queries,

to eat still up, About which we Gourmands have An inch and a half 's but a trifle to fill up. had much discussion

So - not to lose time, DICK — here goes I 've tried all these mountains, Swiss, for the task; French, and Ruggieri's,

Au revoir, my old bov of the Gods I And think, for digestion, there 's none but ask, like the Russian;

That my life, like “the Leap of the So equal the motion - so gentle, tho' German, fleet

Du lit à la table, d'la table au lit !It in short such a light and salubrious scamper is,

That take whom you please — take old
Louis Dix-HUIT,

FROM PHIL. FUDGE, ESQ., TO THE And stuff him — ay, up to the neck

LORD VISCOUNT CASTLEREAGH. with stewed lampreys,2

My Lord, the Instructions, brought toSo wholesome these Mounts, such a

day, solvent I've found them,

“ I shall in all my best obey.” That, let me but rattle the Monarch well down them,

food (says Hume, gravely), which always agreed The fiend, Indigestion, would fly far away,

better with his palate than his constitution.

Lampreys, indeed, seem to have been always And the regicide lampreys be foiled of a favorite dish with kings — whether from some their prey!

congeniality between them and that fish, I know not; but Dio Cassius tells us that Pollio fattened

his lampreys with human blood. St. Louis of 1 Doctor Cotterel recommends, for this pur

France was particularly fond of them. - See the pose, the Beaujon or French Mountains, and

anecdote of Thomas Aquinas eating up his macalls them “une médecine aérienne, couleur de

jesty's lamprey, in a note upon Rabelais, liv. iii. rose ; " but I own I prefer the authority of Mr.

chap. 2. Bob, who seems, from the following note found 4 Had Mr. Bob's Dinner Epistle been inin his own hand-writing, to have studied all these serted, I was prepared with an abundance of mountains very carefully :

learned matter to illustrate it, for which, as, Memoranda - The Swiss little notice deserves,

indeed, for all my,"scientia popinæ,.* I am! While the fall at Ruggieri's is death to weak

indebted to a friend in the Dublin University,

whose reading formerly lay in the magic line; And (whate'er Doctor Cott'rel may write on the

but, in consequence of the Provost's enlightened question)

alarm at such studies, he has taken to the auThe turn at the Beaujon's too sharp for digestion.

thors, “de re cibariâinstead; and has left I doubt whether Mr. Bob is quite correct in ac

Bodin, Remigius, Agrippa and his little dog

Filiolus, for Apicius, Nonius, and that most centing the second syllable of Ruggieri.

learned and savory Jesuit, Bulengerus. 2 A dish so indigestible, that a late novelist,

5 A famous Restaurateur - now Dupont. at the end of his book, could imagine no more summary mode of getting rid of all his heroes

6 An old French saying; – “Faire le saut de and heroines than by a hearty supper of stewed

l'Allemand, du lit à la table et de la table au lampreys. 3 They killed Henry I. of England: -


* Seneca.



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