Go to your prisons-though the air of Spring
No mountain coolness to your cheeks shall bring;
Though summer flowers shall pass unseen away,
And all your portion of the glorious day
May be some solitary beam that falls,
At morn or eve, upon your dreary walls-
Some beam that enters, trembling as if awed,
To tell how gay the young world laughs abroad!
Yet go-for thoughts, as blessed as the air
Of spring or summer flowers, await you there;
Thoughts, such as He, who feasts his courtly crew
In rich conservatories, never knew!
Pure self-esteem-the smiles that light within-
The Zeal, whose circling charities begin

With the few loved-ones Heaven has placed it near,
Nor cease, till all mankind are in its sphere!—
The Pride, that suffers without vaunt or plea,
And the fresh Spirit, that can warble free,
Through prison-bars, its hymn to Liberty!

The scene next changes to a Tailor's Work-shop, and a fancifully-arranged group of these Artists is discovered upon the Shop-board-Their task evidently of a royal nature, from the profusion of gold-lace, frogs, etc. that lie about-They all rise and come forward, while one of them sings the following Stanzas, to the tune of . Derry Down..

My brave brother Tailors, come, straighten your knees,
For a moment, like gentlemen, stand up at ease,
While I sing of our P――E (and a fig for his railers),
The Shop-board's delight! the Mæcenas of Tailors!
Derry down, down, down derry down.
Some monarchs take roundabout ways into note,
But His short cut to fame is-the cut of his coat;
Philip's Son thought the world was too small for his
Soul,
While our R-G-r's finds room in a laced button-hole!
Derry down, etc.

go loose

Not a King of them all's such a friend to the Goose. So, God keep him increasing in size and renown, Still the fattest and best-fitted P-E about town! Derry down, etc.

During the Derry down of this last verse, a messenger from the S-c-t-y of S--e's Office rushes on, and the singer (who, luckily for the effect of the scene, is the very Tailor suspected of the mysterious fragments) is interrupted in the midst of his laudatory exertions, and hurried away, to the no small surprise and consternation of his comrades. The Plot now hastens rapidly in its development-the management of the Tailor's examination is highly skilful, and the alarm which he is made to betray is natural without being ludicrous. The explanation, too, which he finally gives, is not more simple than satisfactory. It appears that the said fragments formed part of a self-exculpatory note, which he had intended to send to Colonel MM-N upon subjects purely professional, and the corresponding bits (which still lie luckily in his pocket) being produced, and skilfully laid beside the others, the following billet-doux is the satisfactory result of their juxta-position:

Honour'd Colonel-my WIFE, who's the QUEEN of all slatterns,

NEGLECTED to put up THE BOOK of new Patterns.
She sent the WRONG MEASURES too-shamefully wrong-
They're the same used for poor Mr LAMBERT, when young;
But, bless you! they would n't go half round the R-G-r,
So, hope you'll excuse yours till death, most obedient.

This fully explains the whole mystery-the R-G-T resumes his wonted smiles, and the drama terminates, as usual, to the satisfaction of all parties.

PREFACE.

In what manner the following epistles came into my hands, it is not necessary for the public to know. It will be seen by Mr FUDGE's Second Letter, that he is one of those gentlemen whose Secret Services in Ireland, under the mild ministry of my Lord G---G8, have been so amply and gratefully remunerated. Like his friend and associate, THOMAS REYNOLDS, Esq., he had retired upon the reward of his honest industry; but has lately been induced to appear again in active life, and superintend the training of that Delatorian Cohort,

which Lord S-DM-TH, in his wisdom and benevolence, has organized.

Whether Mr FUDGE, himself, has yet made any discoveries, does not appear from the following pages;but much may be expected from a person of his zeal and sagacity, and, indeed, to him, Lord S-DM-TH, and the Greenland-bound ships, the eyes of all lovers of discoveries are now most anxiously directed.

I regret that I have been obliged to omit Mr Bon FUDGE's Third Letter, concluding the adventures of his Day, with the Dinner, Opera, etc. etc.-but, in conse quence of some remarks upon Marinette's thin drapery, which, it was thought, might give offence to certain

And prove to mankind that their rights are bar folly, Their freedom a joke bærbart it 18, you know, Dolly z

• There's none » said his Lordship, • if I may be judge,

Half so fit for this great undertaking as Fungal

The matter's woon settled-Pa files to the Bow

The first stage your tourmis non usunuy go,
Settles all for hus quarto-advertisements, praises-
Starts post from the door, with has tablets-French
phrases-

» Scort's Visit,» of course—in short, every thing he has
An author can want, except words and ideas:—
And, lo. the first thing in the spring of the year,
I PHIL. FEDGE at the front of a Quarto, my dear!
But, bless me, my paper's near out, so I'd better
Draw fast to a close-this exceeding long letter
You owe to a déjeuner à la Fourchette,

Which BOBBY would have, and is hard at it yet.-
What's next? oh, the tutor, the last of the party,
Young Cossog:-they say he's so like Bos****TE,
His nose and his chin,-which Papa rather dreads,
As the B*****ss, you know, are suppressing all heads
That resemble old NAF's, and who knows but their ho-

nours

May think, in their fright, of suppressing poor CONNOR's?
Au reste as we say), the young lad's well enough,
Only talks much of Athens, Rome, virtue, and stuff;
A third cousin of ours, by the way-poor as Job
(Though of royal descent by the side of Mamma),
And for charity made private tutor to Bon—
Entre nous, too, a Papist-how liberal of Pa!
This is all, dear,-forgive me for breaking off thus;
But Bon's déjeuner's done, and Papa's in a fuss.

Where the poor palace changes masters

marker than a stake in skin,

"as round out on castors

*****s borne on shouiders in: But where, in every change, no doubt, |_ One special rood your Lordship traces,— That 't is the Kings alone turn out,

The Ministers still keep their places.

How oft, dear Viscount C▬▬▬▬GE,
I've thought of thee upon the way,
As in my job 'what place could be
More apt to wake a thought of thee")
Or, oftener far, when gravely sitting
Upon my dickey Cas is fitting

For him who writes a Tour, that he
May more of men and manners see),
I've thought of thee and of thy glories,
Thou
guest of Kings, and King of Tories!
Reflecting how thy fame has grown
And spread, beyond man's usual share,
At home, abroad, till thou art known,
Like Major SEMPLE, every where!
And marvelling with what powers of breath
Your Lordship, having speech'd to death
Some hundreds of your fellow-men,
Next speech'd to Sovereigns' cars, -and when
All sovereigns else were dozed, at last
Speech'd down the Sovereign of Belfast.
Oh! 'mid the praises and the trophies
Thou gain'st from Morosophs and Sophis,
'Mid all the tributes to thy fame,

There's one thou shouldst be chiefly pleased atThat Ireland gives her snuff thy name,

And C-Gu's the thing now sneezed at!

But hold, my pen!-a truce to praising-
Though even your Lordship will allow
The theme's temptations are amazing;

But time and ink run short, and now
(As thou wouldst say, my guide and teacher
In these gay metaphoric fringes),

I must embark into the feature

On which this letter chiefly hinges;—2
My Book, the Book that is to prove-
And will, so help ye Sprites above,
That sit on clouds, as grave as judges,
Watching the labours of the FUDGES!-
Will prove that all the world, at present,
Is in a state extremely pleasant:
That Europe-thanks to royal swords

And bayonets, and the Duke commanding-
Enjoys a peace which, like the Lord's,

Passeth all human understanding: That Fce prefers her

To such a coward

go-cart

scamp as

Though round, with each a leading-string,

There standeth many a R'y'l crony,

The title of the chief magistrate of Belfast, before whom his Lordship (with the studium immane loquendi attributed by Ovid to that chattering and rapacious class of birds, the pies) delivered sundry long and self-gratulatory orations, on his return from the Continent. It was at one of these Irish dinners that his gallant brother Lord S. proposed the health of. The best cavalry officer in Euroj e-the Regent!

Verbatim from one of the noble Viscount's speeches. And now, Sir, I must embark into the feature on which this question chiefly hinges..

For fear the chubby, tottering thing

Should fall, if left there loney-poney:
That England, too, the more her debts,
The more she spends, the richer gets :
And that the Irish, grateful nation'

Remember when by thee reign'd over,
And bless thee for their flagellation,
AS HELOISA did her lover!
That Poland, left for Russia's lunch,
Upon the side-board snug reposes;
While Saxony's as pleased as Punch,

And Norway « on a bed of roses!»
That, as for some few million souls,

Transferr'd by contract, bless the clods! If half were strangled-Spaniards, Poles,

And Frenchmen-'t would n't make such odds,

So Europe's goodly royal ones

Sit easy on their sacred thrones;
So FERDINAND embroiders gaily,
And eats his salmi1 daily;

So time is left to Emperor SANDY
To be half Cæsar and hulf Dandy;

And G-GE the R-G-T (who 'd forget
That doughtiest chieftain of the set?)
Hath wherewithal for trinkets new,

For dragons, after Chinese models,
And chambers where Duke Ho and Soo

Might come and nine times knock their noddles!—

All this my Quarto 'll prove-much more

Than Quarto ever proved before-
In reasoning with the Post I'll vie,
My facts the Courier shall supply,
My jokes V-NS-T, P-LE my sense,
And thou, sweet Lord, my eloquence!

My Journal, penn'd by fits and starts, On BIDDY'S back or BOBBY's shoulder (My son, my Lord, a youth of parts,

Who longs to be a small place-holder), Is-though I say 't that should n't sayExtremely good; and, by the way, One extract from it-only oneTo show its spirit, and I've done.

« Jul. thirty-first. Went, after snack, To the cathedral of St Denny; Sigh'd o'er the kings of ages back,

And-gave the old concierge a penny! (Mem.-Must see Rheims, much famed, 't is said, For making kings and gingerbread.)

Was shown the tomb where lay, so stately,

A little B***bon buried lately,
Thrice high and puissant, we were told,
Though only twenty-four hours old!3
Hear this, thought I, ye jacobins;
Ye Burdetts, tremble in your skins!
If Ralty, but aged a day,

Can boast such high and puissant sway,
What impious hand its power would fix,
Full fledged and wigg'd,4 at fifty-six ?»>

The argument's quite new, you see, And proves exactly Q. E. D.—

So, now, with duty to the R-g-t,

I am, dear Lord,

Your most obedient,

P. F.

Hotel Breteuil, Rue Rivoli.

Neat lodgings-rather dear for me;

But Fiddy said she thought 't would look Genteeler thus to date my book,

And Biddy's right-besides, it curries Some favour with our friends at Murray's, Who scorn what any man can say,

That dates from Rue St Honoré.'

LETTER III.

FROM MR BOB FUDGE TO RICHARD ——, ESQ.

O DICK! you may talk of your writing and reading,
Your logic and Greek, but there's nothing like feeding;
And this is the place for it, Dicky, you dog,
Of all places on earth-the head quarters of prog.
Talk of England,-her famed Magna Charta, I swear, is
A humbug, a flam, to the Carte2 at old Very's;
And as for your Juries-who would not set o'er 'em.
A jury of tasters,3 with woodcocks before 'em?
Give Cartwright his parliaments fresh every year-
But those friends of short Commons would never do here;
And let Romilly speak as he will on the question,
No digest of law 's like the laws of digestion!

After dreaming some hours of the land of Cocaigne,4
That Elysium of all that is friand and nice,
Where for hail they have bons-bons, and claret for rain,
And the skaiters in winter show off on cream-ice;
Where so ready all nature its cookery yields,
Macaroni au parmesan grows in the fields;
Little birds fly about with the true pheasant taint,
And the geese are all born with a liver complaint!5

reminds us of what Pliny says, in speaking of Trajan's great qualities:- nonne longe lateque Principem ostentant ?>

1 See the Quarterly Review for May, 1816, where Mr Hobhouse is accused of having written his book in a back street of the French capital.

The bill of Fare.-Véry, a well-known Restaurateur.

Mr Bob alludes particularly, I presume, to the famous Jury Dégustateur, which used to assemble at the Hotel of M. Grimod de la Reynière, and of which this modern Archestratus has given an account in his Almanach des Gourmands, cinquième année, p. 78.

4 The fairy-land of cookery and gourmandise; « Pays, où le ciel of fre les viandes toutes cuites, et où, comme on parle, les alouettes tombent toutes roties. Du Latin, coquere.-DACHAT.

5 The process by which the liver of the unfortunate goose is en larged, in order to produce that richest of all dainties, the foie gras' of which such renowned pâtés are made at Strasbourg and Toulouse,