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the arguments and statements of Dr. Duigenan,—not at all the less vivacious or less serviceable to their fabricators, for having been refuted and disproved a thousand times over. They are brought forward again, as good as new, whenever malice or stupidity may be in want of them; and are quite as useful as the old broken lantern, in Fielding's Amelia, which the watchman always keeps ready by him, to produce, in proof of riotous conduct, against his victims. I shall therefore give up the fruitless toil of vindication, and would even draw my pen over what I have already written, had I not promised to furnish my publisher with a Preface, and know not how else I could contrive to eke it out.
I have added two or three more trifles to this edition, which I found in the Morning Chronicle, and knew to be from the pen of my friend. The rest of the volume remains * in its original state.
April 20, 1814.
My dear Lady Bab, you'll be shocked, I'm afraid,
Off at once to Papa, in a flurry, he flies
Pretty doings are here, sir,” he angrily cries,
* A new reading has been suggested in the original of the Ode of Horace, freely translated by Lord Eldon, page 570. In the line “Sive per Syrteis iter æstuosas,"
it is proposed, by a very trifling alteration, to read “Surtees," instead of “Syrteis," which brings the Ode, it is said, more home to the noble translator, and gives a peculiar force and aptness to the epithet æstuosas." I merely throw out this emendation for the learned, being unable myself to decide upon its merits.
| This young lady, who is a Roman Cathoạc, has lately made a present of some beautiful Ponies to the Princess,
Quick a Council is called—the whole Cabinet sits-
DEAR sir, I've just had time to look
* See the last number of the Edinburgh Revicw.
Wherein- -as plain as man can speak
Whip me those scoundrels, Castlereagh!”
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 missed 'em. For instance—in Seraglio matters— Your Turk, whom girlish fondness flatters, Would fill his haram (tasteless fool!) With tittering, red-cheeked 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 reached the regulation-age ; That is-as near as one can fix From Peerage dates—full fifty-six.
* 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 :-"A score of old women and the same number of old men played here and there in the court, some at chuck-farthing, others at tip-cat, or at cockles.” And again :-“There is nothing, believe me, more engaging than those lovely wrinkles," &c., &a-See Tales of the East, vol. iii. pp. 607, 608.
This rule's for favourites-nothing more-
LETTER III. FROM GEORGE PRINCE REGENT TO THE EARL OF YARMOUTH.* We missed you last night at the “hoary old sinner's," Who gave us, as usual, the cream of good dinnersHis soups scientific-his fishes quite primeHis patés superb-and his cutlets sublime ! In short, 'twas the snug sort of dinner to stir a Stomachic orgasm in my Lord Ellenborough, Who set to, to be sure, with miraculous force, And exclaimed, between mouthfuls, “a He-Cook of course! While you live-(What's there under that cover, pray, look) While you live-(I'll just taste it)-ne'er keep a She-Cook. 'Tis a sound Salic Law—(a small bit of that toast)— Which ordains that a female shall ne'er rule the roast; For Cookery's a secret—(this turtle's uncommon)Like Masonry, never found out by a woman!” The dinner, you know, was in gay
celebration Of my brilliant triumph and Hunt's condemnation ; A compliment, too, to his Lordship the Judge For his speech to the Jury—and zounds! who would grudge Turtle-soup, though it came to five guineas a bowl, To reward such a loyal and complaisant soul? We were all in high gig--Roman punch and Tokay Travelled round, till our heads travelled just the same way; And we cared not for juries or libels—no-damme! nor E’en for the threats of last Sunday's Examiner ! More good things were eaten than said—but Tom Tyrrhić In quoting Joe Miller, you know, has some merit, And, hearing the sturdy Justiciary Chief Say-sated with turtle-"I'll now try the beef”– Tommy whispered him (giving his Lordship a sly hit) “I fear 'twill be hung-beef, my Lord, if you try it!” And Camden was there, who, that morning, had gone To fit his new Marquis's coronet on; And the dish set before him-oh, dish well-devised ! Was, what old Mother Glasse calls, “a calf's-head surprised !” The brains were near Sherry ; and once they'd been fine; But, of late, they had lain so long soaking in wine That, however, we still might, in courtesy, call Them a fine dish of brains, they were no brains at all. When the dinner was over, we drank, every one In a bumper, “the venial delights of Crim. Con."
• This letter, as the reader will perceive, was written the day after a dinner given by the Marquis of H-d