PREFACE.

THE Bag, from which the following Letters are selected, was dropped by a Twopenny Postman about two months since, and picked up by an emissary of the Society for the S-pp-ss-n of V-e, who, supposing it might materially assist the private researches of that Institution, immediately took it to his employers, and was rewarded handsomely for his trouble. Such a treasury of secrets was worth a whole host of informers; and, accordingly, like the Cupids of the poet, (if I may use so profane a simile,) who "fell at odds about the sweet-bag of a bee," those venerable suppressors almost fought with each other for the honour and delight of first ransacking the Post-Bag. Unluckily, however, it turned out, upon examination, that the discoveries of profligacy which it enabled them to make lay chiefly in those upper regions of society, which their well-bred regulations forbid them to molest or meddle with. In consequence, they gained but very few victims by their prize, and, after lying for a week or two under Mr H-tch-d's counter, the Bag, with its violated contents, was sold for a trifle to a friend of mine.

It happened that I had been just then seized with an ambition (having never tried the strength of my wing but in a newspaper) to publish something or other in the shape of a book; and it occurred to me that, the present being such a letter-writing era, a few of these Twopenny-Post Epistles, turned into easy verse, would be as light and popular a task as I could possibly select for a commencement. I did not think it prudent, however, to give too many Letters at first, and, accordingly, have been obliged (in order to eke out a sufficient number of pages) to reprint some of those TRIFLES which had already appeared in the public journals. As in the battles of ancient times, the shades of the departed were sometimes seen among the combatants, so I thought I might remedy the thinness of my ranks by conjuring up a few dead and forgotten ephemerons to fill them.

Such are the motives and accidents that led to the present publication; and as this is the first time my Muse has ever ventured out of the go-cart of a newspaper, though I feel all a parent's delight at seeing little Miss go alone, I am also not without a parent's anxiety lest an unlucky fall should be the consequence of the experiment; and I need not point out the many living instances there are of Muses that have suffered severely in their heads from taking too early and rashly to their feet. Besides, a book is so very different a thing from a newspaper !-in the former, your doggerel, without either company or shelter, must stand shivering in the middle of a bleak white page by itself; whereas, in the latter, it is comfortably backed by advertisements, and has sometimes even a speech of Mr St-ph-n's, or something equally warm, for a chauffe-pied; so that, in general, the very reverse of "laudatur et alget" is its destiny.

Ambition, however, must run some risks, and I shall be very well satisfied if the reception of these few Letters should have the effect of sending me to the Post-Bag for more.

* Herrick.

THE TWOPENNY POST-BAG.

LETTER I.

FROM THE PR-NC-SS CHE OF W-S TO THE LADY
B-RB-A A-SHL-Y.*

My dear Lady Bab, you'll be shock'd, I'm afraid,
When you hear the sad rumpus your ponies have made;
Since the time of horse-consuls (now long out of date)
No nags ever made such a stir in the state!

Lord Eld-n first heard-and as instantly pray'd he

To God and his king-that a Popish young lady

(For though you've bright eyes and twelve thousand a-year, It is still but too true you're a Papist, my dear)

Had insiduously sent, by a tall Irish groom,

Two priest-ridden ponies, just landed from Rome,

And so full, little rogues, of pontifical tricks,

That the dome of St Paul's was scarce safe from their kicks!

Off at once to papa, in a flurry, he flies

For papa always does what these statesmen advise,

On condition that they'll be, in turn, so polite

As, in no case whate'er, to advise him too right—

66

Pretty doings are here, Sir," he angrily cries,

While by dint of dark eyebrows he strives to look wise;
""Tis a scheme of the Romanists,-

To ride over your most Royal Highness roughshod—
Excuse, Sir, my tears-they're from loyalty's source-
Bad enough 'twas for Troy to be sack'd by a horse,
But for us to be ruin'd by ponies, still worse!"
Quick a council is call'd-the whole Cabinet sits-
The Archbishops declare, frighten'd out of their wits,
That if vile Popish ponies should eat at my manger,
From that awful moment the Church is in danger!
As, give them but stabling, and shortly no stalls
Will suit their proud stomachs but those at St Paul's.

*This young lady, who is a Roman Catholic, has lately made a present of some beautiful ponies to the Pr-nc-ss.

N

The Doctor and he, the devout man of leather,
V-ns-tt-t, now laying their saint-heads together,
Declare that these skittish young a-bominations
Are clearly foretold in chap. vi. Revelations—
Nay, they verily think they could point out the one
Which the Doctor's friend Death was to canter upon !
Lord H-rr-by, hoping that no one imputes
To the Court any fancy to persecute brutes,
Protests, on the word of himself and his cronies,
That had these said creatures been asses, not ponies,
The court would have started no sort of objection,
As asses were there always sure of protection.

"If the Pr-nc-ss will keep them," says Lord C-stl-r-gh,
To make them quite harmless the only true way,
Is (as certain Chief-Justices do with their wives)
To flog them within half an inch of their lives-
If they've any bad Irish blood lurking about,
This (he knew by experience) would soon draw it out."
Or-if this be thought cruel-his Lordship proposes
"The new Veto snaffle to bind down their noses-

A pretty contrivance, made out of old chains,

Which appears to indulge, while it doubly restrains; Which, however high-mettled, their gamesomeness checks, (Adds his Lordship humanely,) or else breaks their necks!"

This proposal received pretty general applause

From the statesmen around-and the neck-breaking clause Had a vigour about it which soon reconciled

Even Eld-n himself to a measure so mild;

So the snaffles, my dear, were agreed to nem. con.,
And my Lord C-stl-r-gh, having so often shone
In the fettering line, is to buckle them on.

I shall drive to your door in these Vetos some day,
But, at present, adieu! I must hurry away
To go see my mamma, as I'm suffer'd to meet her
For just half-an-hour by the Qu-n's best repeater.

LETTER II.

FROM COLONEL M'M-H-N TO G-LD FR-NC-8 L-CKIE, ESQ.

DEAR Sir, I've just had time to look

Into your very learned book,*

* See the last number of the Edinburgh Review.

Wherein as plain as man can speak,
Whose English is half modern Greek-·
You prove that we can ne'er intrench
Our happy isles against the French,
Till royalty in England's made
A much more independent trade-
In short, until the house of Guelph
Lays Lords and Commons on the shelf,
And boldly sets up for itself!

All that can well be understood
In this said Book is vastly good;
And as to what's incomprehensible,
I dare be sworn 'tis full as sensible.

But to your work's immortal credit—
The P
-e, good Sir, the P -e has read it,
(The only book, himself remarks,

Which he has read since Mrs Clarke's.)
Last levee-morn he look'd it through,
During that awful hour or two

Of grave tonsorial preparation,

Which, to a fond, admiring nation,

Sends forth, announced by trump and drum,

The best wigg'd P- -e in Christendom!

He thinks with you, th' imagination
Of partnership in legislation
Could only enter in the noddles
Of dull and ledger-keeping twaddles,
Whose heads on firms are running so,
They even must have a King and Co.
And hence, too, eloquently shew forth
On checks and balances, and so forth.

But now, he trusts, we're coming near a
Better and more royal era;

When England's monarch need but say,
"Whip me those scoundrels, C-stl-r-gh!"
Or-" Hang me up those Papists, Eld-n,"
And 'twill be done-ay, faith, and well done.

With view to which, I've his command
To beg, Sir, from your travell'd hand,
(Round which the foreign Graces swarm)
A plan of radical Reform;

Compiled and chosen, as best you can,
In Turkey or at Ispahan,

And quite upturning, branch and root,
Lords, Commons, and Burdett to boot!

But, pray, whate'er you may impart, write
Somewhat more brief than Major C-rtwr-ght.
Else, though the P-e be long in rigging,
'Twould take, at least, a fortnight's wigging,-
Two wigs to every paragraph-

Before he well could get through half.

You'll send it also speedily

As, truth to say, 'twixt you and me,
His Highness, heated by your work,
Already thinks himself Grand Turk !
And you'd have laugh'd had you seen how
He scared the Ch-nc-l-or just now,
When (on his Lordship's entering puff'd) he
Slapp'd his back and call'd him "Mufti !"

The tailors too have got commands
To put directly into hands

All sorts of dulimans and pouches,
With sashes, turbans, and paboutches,
(While Y-rm-th's sketching out a plan
Of new moustaches à l'Ottomane)
And all things fitting and expedient
To turkify our gracious R-g-nt!

You therefore have no time to waste-
So send your system.―

Yours, in haste.

POSTSCRIPT.

BEFORE I send this scrawl away,

I seize a moment just to say,

There's some parts of the Turkish system
So vulgar, 'twere as well you miss'd 'em.

For instance-in seraglio matters

Your Turk, whom girlish fondness flatters,
Would fill his haram (tasteless fool!)

With tittering, red-cheek'd things from school-

But here (as in that fairy land

Where Love and Age went hand in hand;

Where lips, till sixty, shed no honey,

And Grandams were worth any money)
Our Sultan has much riper notions-
So let your list of she-promotions
Include those only, plump and sage,
Who've reach'd the regulation-age;

*

The learned colonel must allude here to a description of the Mysterious Isle, in the History of Abdalla, Son of Hanif, where such inversions of the order of nature are said to have taken place.