mm mm .1111 !■ ■ . i - ' • ■ ; A == r- 1 A^ = o 1 = <= 1 ^^ — l 1 = — —— r-n ■ — — 33 I = = 33 1 55^5 m ■ 3 9 _ E 1 O 1 9 m ^^^ I — ■ 7 = — I — 1 ^^ 55 1 9 l B 3> ■ — -c I 9 = BSSS -n 1 ■eg > 1 S ^^™ i — 1 ' 1 3 = WWfifefe-LIBRARY. lass Shelf No. f\)iAr «v t*-«fe- THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES / ^^*-c; Tin-; BATTLE OF THE BENCH; O K, WELLS IN COUNCIL. A POEM, WHICH DID KOT OBTAIN THE CHANCELLOR'S MEDAL. BY ONE OF THE UNWASHED. CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY AND FOR JOSEPH WAKEFIELD DOUGHTY; SOLD BY BRANTON, FITZROY STREET; WOODS, JAMES STREET; WALCOT, REGENT STREET ; BURRELL, ANNESLEY PLACE ; STEVERSON AND DIGHTON, AND BY ALL RESPECTABLE BOOKSELLERS. M.DCCC.XLIII. THE ARGUMENT. The Poem openeth at'ter the conilict Municipal hath been fought, and Wells the valiant hath triumphed, leaving- prostrate on the field of East Barnwell his foe, hight Babtlett, who mightily ragcth but is not heeded. The Poem thence commenceth with the appearance of the Hero in Council. It recounteth thai divers men in garb of blue, have forced him back from the entrance to the seat he chooseth to occupy, by tories kept select for Aldermanic wisdom. He entereth by another door, and declaimeth against the usurpation; then he advanceth to the foot of the barrier erected contrary to Act .Municipal, and he scaleth it, but in the attempt is opposed by Brother Jonathan, whom he vanquisheth, not without struggling, and maketh good his seat on Bench Aldermanic. The Poet then skippeth an hour's time, and the Hero harangueth the senators; noise ariseth, much from the Chronicler, whom the hero silenceth, and liardolph blusheth — not extemporaneously. Meantime W'oodley eatcth bread and cheese, but at last biteth his own tongue for splceu. The ex-mayor is graced with vote of thanks, which Yi'ells, the ui raising, denieth. lie expatiates on his faults, which none deny. Ranee talketh about the Protestant Faith, of which he understandeth nothing. The Hero laugheth ;it him, and eulogizeth his physiognomy. Rance quaileth. The Hero enlargeth on the ex-mayor's deficiences, and accuseth him of desecrating t] ith; — the ex-mayor answereth nothing. The Hero dilateth on the wickedn . and much confusion reigncth. lie adverteth to one Balls, who dwelleth in durance vile for wrongs uncommitted, but manufactured by the Police, and loud indignation prevaileth. lie speaketh of two pounds two shillings, Liberally subscribed by the ex-mayor, for the sustenance of Her Majesty, — which Her Majesty scorneth, and people laugh at. The Council affect to deride the Hero, and he termeth them "Cock-pit hyenas!" which linishcth his harangue. Uproar and applause ensneth ; whereupon extraordinary phenomena happeneth. TK 3id not make out a better brief llian this ; 9 Why didn't you visit Stephen P for your case Must cover you with merited disgrace. Apply to AdcGclc, lie's your "hope forlorn," If you are anxious for contempt and scorn ; His clients; yc should he, my learned sages, Then screen yourselves behind your "privileges!" He'd ruin hoth, with pleasure — aye, and would Swallow your "privileges''' — if he could. Can I, a calm spectator, view the storm Gathering o'er Turner : J No ! — at school, one form? Bore us together, — we were fellow mates ; And shall I see him crippled now by Bates, — And make no effort — no attempt to raise A cry to help him in his later days ? While I can rhyme a lay, or write a farce on A bullying boatswain ', who for gain turn'd parson,. While Brown and Turner, both upon the stage Shall ridicule your actions — and your ragre Exhibit to the world, — they shall in short Turn every boasted "privilege"''' to sport! Crush them ! then seek some calm sequestered nook,. Get a fat living, — by the chrystal brook Reflect and moralize — learn mercy — preach Forgiveness — and be lauglid at when ye teach. Does it become a Christian minister To blight a tradesman, if he chance to err? 'Tis an inglorious feeling ! how ye pant To see their wives and families in want ! Yet if on earth ye will not them befriend, Then point to heaven — and bid their troubles end ! 1. Bates, the Proctor, held some menial office in the navy. A pretty school for a Parson ! 10 Perchance ye'll need a jury for your court, — Pray let me pick one — I'd at once resort To college slaves, and other worthless tools Fit for your purpose, — most especial fools. O'Connell's friend! the mild Joe Jonathan Would burst in fury if he were not one , The Janus of his party, who beguiles, Or rather gulls us with his childish smiles ; The sham " Sir Robert " of a petty few, "Whose double-face to none was ever true ; Beneath contempt so low, that all men deem Him, e'en in satire a degrading theme ; Ratnett and Parfitt, Billington and Law, No, not the latter, T must him withdraw; I war not with the tories of times past, 111 try again, and take another cast. — Stev. Rowley — Puppy Balls — Long Newman* — Teddy Litchfield — with Chilly Wiseman on his neddy — BradweU and Ilaslem — to complete my plan I'll Newby take, who fattens on cold-scran. — There are a dozen, — mould them to your will, They'll serve your purpose — every wish fulfil. Pack them together for an hour each day, With Snowball, Neville, French, Smith, King, or Hay} With the "false Chronicler" or Bursar Blick, Or that in-i ni-i-la-ble (?) spouter, Crick!!! Command their presence ! — ye have but to speak ; Serfs are they all, who bow the willing neck, And, dog-like, lick the foot that condescends to kick. 1. This tool, like fat Stephen, of Faircloth Hall, has grown rich by the prostitution of his talents. 2. Toric« — celebrated for their orthodox antipathies. Preparing for Publication. CANTO V. Boufhty, Printer, 38, Eden WaH, Camirtift. THE BATTLE OF THE BENCH; OR, SKETCHES FROM LIFE. CANTO V. BY ONE OF THE UNWASHED. CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY AND FOR JOSEPH WAKEFIELD DOUGHTY; AND SOLD BY HIM ONLY, AT 38, EDEN WALK. M.DCCC.XLIV. Price Sixpence. THE ARGUMENT. The scene of the Song is laid in that sink of corruption, yclept " Hie Eagle," and exhiliitcth Fisher the fainter, who appeareth at the window, where he watcheth the entrance of the tory tools, who are busy collecting the creditors. Joy beameth in the face of all hut that of the Poet, who receiveth nought Fisher payeth them, and exhorteth the rabble to avoid the machinations of the Leagtte. He ex:ilteth in the prospect of defeating and trampling on the Whigs. The Poet fecleth disgust, and departeth. — He heareth and admireth the sounds of soft music, which breaketh upon his car from the house which adjoineth, He entereth tailor Bicheno's, and listeneth. He walketh up and looketli about him ; what he heareth, he recordeth. He observcth several embryo clergymen there, which surpriseth him. He leaveth rather unceremoniously. He exposeth the arbitrary conduct of one Bates, a bear, whom he badgereth. — He alludeth to the appointment of the notorious Stej)hen of Fair cloth Hall, whom the iin macu- late Watch Committee have made Solicitor to the Police Force, in the room of Hays, and remarket!) thereon. He wondereth how long the town will bear it, and grumbleth accordingly. — He modestly referreth to a meeting between Adcock, Southee, and Fisher, or " Love, Law, and Physic." Ho descriheth the interview at Faircloth Hall. Fisher avoideth the doctor, and screeiieth himself. Stephen surpriseth Southee, when he declarcth himself attorney for Kelly. Southee stareth : whereupon, Stephen soapeth him, and tippetb him soft blarney. He trieth to wheedle sundry statements from him, and wanteth some "change," Southee hesitatetb, and confoundeth his impudence. He lifteth his eye-lash and and expandeth his eye-brow. He asketh Stephen whether he can see aughf yreen therein. Stephen fancyeth he can. Fisher tittereth and sneezeth. The doctor ■melleth a rat! Thoughts of treachery occur to him. He upbraideth the lawyer and threatenetb to wreck the prospects of the whole party. He asketli Stephen whether divers persons whom he mentioneth have been subject to such annoyance. He alludeth particularly to Fisher, Bartlett, Joe Jonathan, and the " false Chronicler." His memory reverteth to the fate of Canham. He poureth a torrent of words upon Stephen, who standeth mute with astonishment, lie placcth his thumb against bis nose and extendeth bis lingers, and adviseth S/ejihen to tale a sight.' .' He bangeth the door and bolteth', and so comludetb the Song. The BATTLE OF THE BENCH; OR, SKETCHES FROM LIFE. CANTO V. Once more exulting — ready for a blow, See Fisher stands to pounce upon a foe ; Looks from a window near th' imperial bird, And utters sounds by far too long unheard ; With hatred — pleasure — scorn — and rapture fix'd, A strange amalgam of vile passions mix'd; A host of hungry ragamuffins stand, Anxious to hear the long-deferr'd command — " Come, walk in, gentlemen — produce your bills — " We've just received a box of Kelly s pills ; " Or rather wrung from Joseph Jonathan "What he with- held so long from every man. " We're anxious now to settle all and pay " Our last election scores without delay ; " We ask no questions, but we calculate " On your well paid support, at any rate : " We're on the eve of alteration, and "I know not who 'a candidate' will stand. "We want no items — merely name the sums, " And hold in readiness whoever comes. "We shall not convass those we know are true, " But seek fresh converts from the whiggish crew ; "Name hut your price — there will he no denial, " Come when it will, 'twill he a costly trial. " The ' League ' and all their myrmidons will be " Down on us at the sound of vacancy ; — "Here will he Thompson, with his head so white; " Cobden and Villiers — Gibson — Fox and Bright " The bold uncompromising- quaker — who " Floor'd us in Durham with his Free Trade crew. "Though last not least — respected by the town, " Falvey will come, who shut up Charley Brown ; "Their name is Legion — and it is their boast, " Go where they will, of leaving friends a host ! " With abstruse doctrines puzzling people's brains, "With forethought malice — forging gilded chains — " Sowing dissension I'd give half my land (?) " If Peel against this ' League ' would make a stand ! " I'd stake the credit (?) of my uncle's hank, " Ere I'd submit to such a trait'rous rank ! " Our plans are laid ; be ready — staunch — secure ! " We'll win our triumph — and we'll win it pure ! " There'll be no Bribery ! — but the morning's post " Shall bear our favors, nor regard the cost ! " No signatures — no words — not e'en a stain "Shall soil the paper — thus we hope to gain. "They'll come as god-sends — therefore, strike the blow! "Crush all the Whigs! and lay the traitors low; "Then will we trample on a prostrate — fallen — foe!' He ended — fully satisfied their wants; Bowing and servile, see those sycophants, Anxious to pawn their freedom — nor be loth To sell their birth-right for a mess of broth ! Yet think me not a base ill-temper'd railer, A mess of broth ' bought Bicheno the tailor. And, hark ! what music breaks upon the ear ! List but a moment, and again you'll hear. Huzza for cabbage! this is coming out, When grcy-hair'd stab-rags give a ball or rout; There's lightly tripping on fantastic toes At the old tailor's, turncoat Bicheno's. "Fetch in more gentlemen, do, dear Papa; " We're clamourous and amorous, a'nt we, Ma ? " Go, bring them in, — no matter who they are, " If they are gowns-men they'll be welcome here. " Who is that gentlemen who last came up ? " 8ee how he trembles as he takes the cup ! "Cannot you introduce me to him, Ma?" " Lor, introduce yourself, Selina, dear." " I feels so flurried — I shall sink, for sartin." "Pooh! stuff and lumber ! strike off ' Betty Martin," " Or ' Nix my dolly,' with its variations, "Mean-while the company shall take their stations." " I cannot play, for he has cort my eye ; " How pale he's turning ! — bless me, there's a sigh !" " You silly gal ! don't blush in sich a manner, " But roll your fingers over the pe-anner." "Ax for his card, Pa." " Yes, dear, down I'll hop, "I've left my card and patterns in the shop." 1. Esau loved pottage; Bicheno loves broth! particularly Mitchell's.'!' " I have voted all my life to please myself— now I'll vote to please my friends.'— 6 " Confound your shop and shopboard, how ye tease us, " I think 'tis Mister Thingemy of Jesus : "I'll just walk by him, and I'll drop my glove; "Tis the first time I ever fell in love." " Stop, stop, Selina dear, nor heedless run, " And leave the rest to me — you've well begun ; "De-tract attention, ere the ice you break, "And let your mother teach her child to speak. — "Kind Sir — my darter, Sir — best gal in natur "A modest — soft — affected little cretur; " She, Sir, — wots got sich curly flaxen hair, " Who play'd just now that rvardewUler air. " My darter, Sir — excuse me, Sir — 'tis true " She wishes to be introduced to you, — " See her contusion, — how the color gushes, " Painting her face with young love's earliest blushes ; " She, (thof I say it, Sir) she has no faults — "Would feel delighted, Sir — she wants to valtz." "I shall be happy, Madam, and feel proud — " "Confound that rapping — who is't beats so loud?" "Open the door this instant, or asunder " I'll burst the pannels," roars a voice like thunder. Hush'd in a moment are the merry airs, Some seek the garret, — some the kitchen stairs; — The turncoat tailor totters to the top, And trembling flies to open wide the shop. "Sir, you have gownsmen here, who're best at home, "Come, light the way, and shew me to the room. " Why stare thus at me ? — I'm the Proctor, Sir ! "Bates of Christ Coll : — and now. Sir, will you stir?" "Tis a small party, Sir — my darters friends" " Aye, so they may be — mine are public ends — " And 1 shall enter — whistle ! 2 if you dare, "And quietly I'll knock you down the stair. " Now order all your darters friends to come — "Your name and college, Sir — I'll see you home. "Twice in a week I fairly gave warning, "And now 'tis half-past two, Sir, m the morning.'"' Chop-fallen, all— in quiet consternation — With fines for some — for others rustication — Thus clos'd the turncoat tailor's ball, or rout — Twas the first time he brought his darters out. Sing songs of joy ! strike off a merry peal. Another link is broke, for public weal; Another drop is added to the cup — 'Tis nearly full, then we shall drain it up. Siaa:, while the echo warbles round the town, Another chain is snapp'd by Charley Brown. Stephen the gross, whom crime should render neuter,, Adcoch 's to be the public prosecutor 3 . Who more adapted? — need I say a word To shew his fitness ? — that would be absurd. A little longer — a few brief delays — He'll turn out Harris/ who has ousted Bays!! But, stop ! let memory wander to the hour When Stephen first enjoy'd a patron's power, Vnd Fortune smil'd in one continual streaming shower. 2. This mild gentleman was fined 20*. for a brutal assault on a lad. What a nice parson he'll make ! ! 3. Recently the immaculate Watch Committee appointed him attorney for the Police Force. 8 Well can I recollect, — and now 'tis time To tell the public in my bashful rhyme The history of Soul/ice's interview. Law versus Physic, in their colours true. One morning, Stephen, in a reverie fix'd, Serious and sad, — now smiling- — now perplex'd — Was pondering whom he next should victimize, When Southee entered, to Ins great surprise; He had forgotten all about a note, Which, three parts drunk, the night before he'd wrote- Joy beam'd direct in his enraptur'd face, No one could any lurking demon trace ; Politely Stephen hands him to a chair, Bade him be seated, and with winning air Commences an oration — and (between You and me, reader) 'twas a pretty scene, For Fisher listening stood — hid up behind a screen. " Dear Sir, I wrote that hasty note to tell ye "I'm the attorney for our friend, Filz. Kelly." "The de'il are you" says Southee, — I'll be blest.' " You quite astound me, — through whose interest ?" " Our mutual chum, Georye Fisher, — and your sense " Dictates to give me trust and confidence. "You must to me your secrets all unfold, " Tell each man's price — to whom you gave the gold — " What bills you've paid and what you have to pay — "All F must know, and that without delay; "His seat must be defended; — he desires " You'd give me every item he requires ; 9 " What you have left in hand, come, hand to me. ** "Aye," quoth the doctor, "we may disagree." "We can't, dear doctor; let us understand "Each other's welfare, — Southee, here's my hand. — " Why do you rub the corner of your eye ? " Has any thing got in it ?"— " Yes, a fly." " I fear it gives you pain — can it be seen ? "Yes, I declare there 'tis." "What colour?" "Green." ff It may be green — and so should I be too, "If I unfold my bosom unto you." "Am I to do the work, and then account, "Like a vile shopman, for the full amount? ft Or a hired labourer, toiling for his bread, "When all depended on my hand and head? "You know that 'tis impossible to gain "Without expending — all attempts are vain; ** Set Bribery aside — where would ye be ? "Why in a glorious minority. "Through gold — and gold alone — that Kelly s seat " Was gain'd ! — Tis spent ; does he begin to fret ? " Or doth yourself and Fisher need the hoard, " And wish to drop me gently overboard ? " Sure as your dame is visited by ' Deck,' " Cast me aside, and all your hopes I'll wreck. "Has Bartlett told you how the money went? " What he has promised, or what he spent ? tf So very careful of the heavy swag, " So very anxious for the Carpet Bag. " Joe Jonathan 4 had thrice as much as me — " Has he enclos'd particulars ? — has he 4. He had a thousand pounds to pay the bills with, but the "tin" was useful, aud therefore he was loth to disgorge it. — Evidence of Miles'* Boy. 10 " Ex )1 ihi'd to whom he gave the welcome bribe? u Catch him at that and I'll forgive the gibe. "Has Charley Brown, with brandy face beguiling, " Told all the circumstance of nightly toiling — " What he expended at the gay soirees "Held in Gas Lane — or the festivities •' Of Madam Brooks's glorious carnival " Where all morality's condemn'd to fall ? " Where Wee and drunkenness supremely reigns, ** And, fiend-like lives, exulting in her chains. " Cannot four prey upon the tribe I wonder ? " Cannot jour 5 turncoats, think ye, share the plunder? " I saved the seat by sending far away "Gilbert and Hit mm ; pray who had them to pay? " Mine was a reckless game, — am I to be "Injur'd in prospect — left to infamy? "Thus much I'll tell ye, that the cash is spent, "Wkhout my heeding how, or where, it went; <( Some overplus — to save me from mishap — " Is gone to — us'd up — paid — to stop a (jap ! " In life I've seen too many ups and downs ; " I court no favors, and despise your frowns. " You want to trap me ; then incarcerate, "Leaving me nought but Canhams felon-fate. " I'll place myself in no man's power, — and true, "I'll never make a confidant of you. *'I think you're treacherous, — still, you may be right; "Good morning, Stephen! — will you take a sight!!'' He left the Lawyer mute — and flabbergasted quite. 5. Alluding, probably, to Fisher, Deiyhton, Stephen Ailcock, and himself. PARODIES ON POPULAR SONGS. No. I. ALDERMAN BROWN. Tune — Alice Gray. He's all that liquor paints a man, His cheeks with hectic shine ; Through deep excesses he has ran, With brandy, ale, and wine: He scorns to take the watery vow, All pledges he'll disown; The pimples glisten on the brow Of " drunken Charley Brown." I've watch'd his dull and stupid stare. When over night he's been Attempting still to banish care, In some disgusting scene : I've mark'd his heavy languid eye, I've caught his scowling frown, I've heard the sickening stifled sigh Of "druuken Charley Brown." I've told him long ago that he Would drink himself to death ; Put reckless on to miser}', He wastes his fiery breath : He ought to alter now he wears An aldermanic gown ; Vet unregardless of my prayers Is " drunken Charley Brown." Preparing for Puhlicalion, Canto VI. Doughty, Printer, 38, Eden Walk, Cambridye. THE BATTLE OF THE BENCH; OR, SKETCHES PROM LIFE, CANTO VI. EV ONE OF THE UNWASHED, CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY AND FOR J. W. DOUGHTY; 38, EDEN WALK. M.DCCC.XLV. THE BATTLE OF THE BENCH; OK, SKETCHES FROM LIFE. THE ARGUMENT. The song commcnceth — it introduceth that singular being, CHARLEY WAGSTAFF to the public — previous to his appearance before another court ) the unflinching Advocate of the Poor, — the protector of the rabble; — the bold asserter of their wrongs at one time, — the grovelling sycophant at another; — now cozening a tenant, — now harrying a victim ; — now bawling liberty and freedom, — now carrying destitution into families ; — never committing one act of honesty, — or perpetrating one deed of Charity ; — restless — cold — callous and unfeeling; — now the broken Gambler living on his wits, and eating air, — now the eminent Brewer swaggering in wealth, — a candidate to represent his native town; — buying bargains, — and ruining himself, — now knocking dewn hun- dreds, — now hiding his furniture .' — how he cuts up shall be truly chronicled in the next — the inimitable Woodley appeareth, wroth and uneasy, — Baxter. busieth himself, and Rowe the e.r-radical chattercth — Joe Jonathan findeth himself upon the " Bench" again, — he payeth attention to a book which lieth before him, — he lookethat various ditties therein, — he calleth the attention of "his worship" to them, — he readeth then aloud, — and wanteth to punish the writer, — he asketh tbe Clerk's opinion, — who declineth to give any without con- sideration, — he referreth him to Byles ! — Whereupon the bile of Wells riseth, he expectoratcth — and alludcth to the unfitness of the Clerk for his duties, and adviseth him to retire, — Deck attacketh him. but findeth his master, — he yield- eth ingloriously, — Wells croweth, — and pulls up his tights! — he declaimeth upon various subjects, — he dreadeth the thoughts of a Prison, — and much more, the seizure of the Corporation Properties. — The Song concludeth. CANTO VI. Once more the circle fills ! each high-back'd chair Must on its seat a load of wisdom bear : — The Mayor arrives — the Treasurer appears Borne down with documents — while thoughtful cares Seem to oppress the Clerk, whose eager eye Swift glances round, and smiles on vacancy — Onward he reads — meanwhile his ear denotes The rising choler, or the restless throats Of well-known radicals — yet hastens on Until the murmur swells into a groan : — The smother'd flame breaks out ! a modest form Bursts the dull silence and begins the storm — The unassuming Wagstaff must complain, " He will be heard — nor will he speak in vain." With creole face, and arm extended wide, See this lank specimen of Eastern pride ; Scan o'er his tortur'd features, and then mark His eye, — the index of a mind as dark As his polluted thoughts, which ever rise To form a character whom all despise. — Gods ! what a gospel would this Patriot preach, Just listen to his loud bombastic speech : Falvey ne'er spake with more impassioned force, He makes our cheeks a channeled watercourse; — The curse of poverty — the hunger throes — Loud he laments, and prates of human woes — Nought for himself — but for the people's good, Their rights and liberties he'd wade through blood ! Hark ! what a glowing picture of the poor Skilful he draws, yet drives them from his door. The sterling Patriot (!) The People's Friend (!) Say, rather Demagogue — who strives to send 3 Like a black vomit, all his meau-ness forth, Or, like his swipes, unwholesome, meagre froth. Their Champion (!) built/, foul detested blot, Their stain — begone — •* out, out, thou damned spot." Look at his palm, how often bought and sold — Would gladly sell his very heart for gold. Now, see him rise, with feelings wondrous fine, The Truth would choke him did he speak a line : Venting some clap-trap eloquence — to gull, And lead astray each shallow brainless fool : His hopes — his fears— his wishes — his regrets, Half what he says, and much that he forgets Might make a pretty speech w 7 ith extra puffing — Who was that vagabond that mutter 5 d Duffin? Why ring his mis-deeds in his ears just now ? — Why draw a frown upon his placid brow ? Why doth yon parrot Mustill — Mustill call ? Why doth yon Crow keep caw-ing on the wall ? Why are the Houses tenantless ? and why Will all conspire to give his word the lie ? When creditors are hunting him like midges, When devils dandle from the roofs and ridges — Pray don 5 t molest him while he makes a speech, And prates of things far, far beyond his reach. You hear him pledge his honour (!) like his tears 5 Tis gone — and shifted from this world for years ; — Who says that Range* won 5 t lend him any more ? What ! not assist him now ? — he's very poor — Because he chisselPd him will he not lend Again to save from ruin his dear friend. — * Mr. R. lent him some money when he was in trouble, hut in consequence of a trifling error he successfully evaded the payment. Perhaps he's right — now view him fait' ring stand — Smooth — wordy — fluent — how he lays his hand Where formerly he might have had a heart- Now ossified — 'tis but a stony part — Hardened and callous — mock-compassionate, O'er a rough road he seeks a speedy fate — " A little longer— yet a little while, " My friends, I soon shall cast this "mortal coil ;" " Yet should I like it dearly, could I see " You all contented — independent— free ; " Your taxes paid — and rates diminished so, " That half your burdens drop before I go — " Should like to see that fertile misery's source, " A great reduction in " Jack Sheppard's" force ; " Should like to see those animals in black " Pay their police — and give our own the sack ; " Those locusts who now fatten on the earth, " Despising all who had a meaner birth ! " Those reverend ministers who strip the land " Of every comfort which ye might command ; " Is this religion ?" " Hold your twaddle" bah ! — " Shut up — sit down — off — humbug — hark,caw,caw, 11 Crow wants hislnt'rest Charley — can't you borrow, " The deuce he does — then he must call to-morrow." Then through his parchment-skin the colour tries In vain to force a tinge beneath his eyes. " Roast pork and taturs, Charley — where'sthe Beef?" Down reprobates, for ye exceed belief— * Charley gave a round of Hecf recently to a party at the Bull ; several mem- bers who were present went by invitation to lunch the next morning, and fuund that the cold scran (including the said round) was removed to his mm residence — lor home consumption. Where's the high meed of popular applause ? Your gratitude for one who pleads your cause. — ■ " I will be heard" "you shan't' 5 "sit down" "I won't, " Say what you please I'll pocket the affront — " Is this Religion ? I say Mister Mayor " Call silence will ye — order — chair — chair — chair — " Can ye call these here Christian Ministers " Who thus refuse their quota — 'tis a curse—- " They preach but practice not — they can't expect " We can afford to guard them and protect — " " Right — go it Charley— give 'em it" — " I will — " Or may I never one high office fill — " We bear the expenses of their prosecutions — " Maintain the victims of their prostitutions — " Shelter the wretched wanderers of the night, " Ask we too much ? — demand we more than right ? " The poor get poorer — and the times get worse. " To pay for them, my friends, I'm much averse'' — " We know you are — you need'nt tell us that, " Pay — you pay no one, Charley — hold your chat :" " My friends behind shall hear me — I'll appeal, " You shall not lacerate me on the wheel — " I'll tell the People how ye truths despise — " Heedless of solemn vows- -ye call them lies— *' You scorn my counsel— but ye feel each word; *' Be quiet mongrel — fool-— knave— pimp — absurd — " Who kept the hell upon Newmarket Road — " Why Charley Wagstaff ?" Thus they urge and goad : Go to the Bull! there's Wentworth with his hammer Ready to sell your houses — That's a crammer ; They are not his — shadow and substance gone — Mortgaged or sold— -a lien on every stone — His roofs they vanish rapidly — the tail Of what was his ere first they forc'd a sale ; House follows house — they travel one by one, Mortgaged — let — valued---going — going — gone. What crippled Charley ? filching, clutching, clasping, O'er-reaching, robbery, finesse, and grasping ; Deserted now his creditors attack, Downward he drops from Gentleman to Jack : Who can lament whene'er he sinks to clay — The veriest humbug of the present day. Bursting with rage, see patient Woodley rise, With serious visage, and with straining eyes : Scarce down one nuisance sits, another starts To take their various duties, acts, or parts ; Conflicting passions paint his angry face, Rapid he speaks, endeavouring to embrace All topics—but falls infinitely short, Causing much laughter, and increasing sport : He " hopes to claim th' attention of the Chair, " And boldly ventures now to tell the Mayor, " We shan't get o'er the business to day " If we hear all he purposes to say." With jaw r s expanded, see the slaver flies Across the table to the Town-Clerk's eyes ; Spouts forth his senseless jargon, then sits down With all the native humour of a clown Who laughs at his own follv — and betravs Self-satisfaction in his idiot gaze. Old Mitchell's face assumes a savage scowl — Down, Woodley down, he mutters with a growl. Baxter, a well-known whig in former years, Ere party spirit made him feel the cares — That is, before he was compeWd to be The truckling" vassal tool, to bind the free, Forging new fetters— adding links to chains, Earning a trade and patrons by his pains, Ere college tutors plac'd the writhing screw, Baxter saw freedom with a different view : Now, who so anxious to put on the chain ; Could Hovell's shade his parlour pace again ; Could the old brothers once revisit earth,* They'd find two turncoats desecrate their hearth ; Advance him to the Bench — in " pride of place,'' Add one more turncoat to the recreant race. But see another — yet another rises, Methought them friends, alas! they wear disguises : Rowej- the ex-radical presumes to speak, Doth shame or sorrow tantalize his cheek ; Have you forgot presiding o'er the free, Bawling for rights, and civil liberty ; What's wrought the change— come tell me Harry, say Is it the screw, or gold-dust blinds your way. Is memory grown so treacherous ? can't you hear The " small still voice of conscience" in your ear. Vote, but in silence— and in silence still, Nor utter words that breathe a tyrant's will. * Trinity Street and "The Leys" were formerly the residence of the Hovells, two reformers of the old school — now who lives there — Baxter, an ex-whig ! and the Prince of Turncoats, George Fisher ! ! t The worthy councillor used to attend (and occasionally preside at) Radical meetings — but George Adam Browne is dead, and the weathercock's turned. Become a dummy— see Joe Jonathan Ready again to be the busy man ; Mark the emotions of his wrinkled face, The town pays dearly for his honor'd place. Poor as a parish church-mouse — let him stand Yelping' and grinning, lead the priest-rid band ; Some lawyer keen or other will discover Blunders or errors for to throw you over. Why not pay Cooper ? will ye force the town To litigation for that rusty gown ? Why pore ye on the leaves ? — what's there engages Your mute attention on those musty pages ? Now smiles — now frowns upon your face appear, Length'ning the mouth and forcing back the ear— Oh, could I borrow once a Poet's pen How would I sketch this tool of Aldermen ; Stammering he speaks — he anxiously declares He's found a nest — believes it is a mare's/ " Mister Mayor — order, chair, " Here is something that vexes " My mind, I must own it, it strangely perplexes — " Some scribblers vile hand mellow couplets have written "Pourtraying my feelings — your own not forgetting — " And as they allude to ourselves will you hear 'em " Or else from those records I presently tear 'em " Tis strange, when our books are put up that some elf " Will rhyme on your worship — Charles Brown, and myself. " I propose they be read — well then hold up your hand " All ye who would hear how the passages stand — " For really I could not conceive what engages Friend Joey's attention so long o'er those pages." k * There's no amusement when Deighton is absent — him, Woodley, *nd Wells are like buckets — one down and two up. " Well, well, though they stick in my gizzard I'll read 'em, " And trust that your worship and council will heed 'em, " And take the opinion of I3YLES, or we'll ask all " The councillors present to punish the rascal." CONSERVATIVE STANZAS. " Auld lang syne." (As sung by Mr. Charles Naylor at the Conservative Mechanics' Association, plaintively accompanied by Phofcssor. Gage, on the Accordion.) The shears that in a Bishop's hall — with bills such havoc made — Now hang in rust near yonder wall — upon the King's Parade — Bright was their steel — and warm the praise — they gain'd me on that spot ; Their clipping powers of former days — will never be forgot. To shield young Sutton's servile crew — to help a falling cause — They did whatever shears could do — defying sacred laws — They oped and clos'd 'gainst whiggish foes — but oped and clos'd in vain, Suspicious strong around him rose — They were not used again. " Here's scandal magnatum — but with, your permission " I'll read o'er the next, though it states my condition ; " 'Tis call'd, let the title be known through the town, " Old Joey's Lament for the loss of his gown." Farewell ! but if ever you think of the hour When we sat in the Hall in our flood-tide of power- When the shield of protection o*er villians I threw — And pour'd forth their griefs now forgotten by you. "When Justices Justice, not law intervened, When Bailey was sheltered, and Thresher was screen'd ; Oh, then was my sunshine of life — and each day Brovight moments of mirth too delicious to stay. Turn'd out of your Council, how alter'd since then, I'm laugh'd at by boys, and unnotic'd by men ; There deem'd an usurper — abused like a knave, No friend to avert if a shilling would save. Things fall on me heavy — and what is far worse, Defending this action brings with it a curse — E'en now, with derision and joy in his mote, A radical comes, and objects to my vote. i. 10 Let fate do her worst — she may strive to annoy, All hcpe that is left and each prospect destroy — She comes like a vampire, embitt'ring each hour, So baneful to peace — so malignant in power. Soon, — soon must this heart, which can find no relief, Submit to the ravages there made by grief, While the finger of scorn onward points to the grave, As the last resting place of a renegade slave. " Shall I read you another — here's several more, " They seem to increase as I turn the leaves o'er ; And as it relates to your worship again, * I trust that for silence you'll not ask in vain. THE TAILOR'S TEAR. Upon the Bench he sat — and gave a silly look, When Phelps the Chancellor came in — and soon unclasp'd a book: They read some record o'er about their rights so dear, Which Bishop promis'd to protect, and, crawling " dropt a tear." He left — the Clipper took one glance around the room, Where murm'ring sounds his worship heard— and wonders why they come Loud hisses, laughter, groans — at once assail his ear ; He stands astonish'd and aghast — and trembling " dropt a tear." But now, applauding shouts — re-echoed in the air, His predecessor left that seat — and hands him to the chair ; The yell that burst from freedom's sons — who hold that freedom dear, Thrills through his little soul, and he — despairing " dropt a tear." What makes him thus unmann'd ? and why do they annoy, Who fills an honor'd seat should have — his peace without alloy ; " His dignity !" His " moral worth ! !" they trumpet in his ear — He knew his friend was lying and — that's why he " dropt a tear." Say, shall I go on — had I better stop here, As the next may sound harsh to a delicate car ; All roar out, read on — " then Fisher prepare, (How much I regret that you are not the Mayor!") 11 Had I but a thousand a year, Bobby Peel — But of that I begin to despair — What light would I throw — on what other folks know If I had a thousand a year, Bobby Peel, If I had a thousand a year. " Now what can you need with so much, Fisher dear — " Be once in your life-time sincere — " I am willing to pay — if you only can say " What you've done for a thousand a year, Fisher dear." I've threaten'd, and courted, and pander'd to aid Your ministry Bob, I declare, My conscience now moans — and inwardly groans For a balm like a thousand a year — Bobby dear. I've sold, and like Judas betray'd every friend, I've trebled the surcharges* here — And didn't I reveal — what my friends would conceal — Then give me a thousand a year — Bobby dear. I've perjur'd myself, Manners Sutton can tell — I've dirty tricks done far and near — And as you well know — I have jumped Jim Crow — Then give me a thousand a year — There's a dear. Oh ! grant me a thousand a year, Bobby Peel. I'd banter, and bully — and swear, " Could I trust, or believe — as you others deceive " If I give you a thousand a year — Fisher dear." My housekeeping charge — on " the Leys" are so large, The expences I cannot well bear — A sinecure'll do — of a hundred or two. If you can't spare a thousand a year — Bobby dear. I cannot, I fear then, exclaim'd, Bobby Peel — Beside you're a turncoat I hear — For Snowball must have — the place you now crave — ■ I can't spare a thousand a year — I declare, I can't spare a thousand a year. * The information given by Fisher about the property of seme of the in- habitants materially assisted the revenue. — Many wondered where the know- ledge of their private affairs, and the consequent surcharges originated — but when he applied for the situation, which was subsequently given to Dr- Snowball — the riddle came out. 12 " Here's several others now to read — but as Our time is precious let me shortly pause — 1 think myself it certainly is cruel To libel us — it unto fire adds fuel/ Some one's to blame — but where — on whom to shower The rod of Justice or offended power. So, Mister Mayor, ere I conclude my task, If no one else is ready, I would ask Our friend Charles Harris for to guide us right, So that I get a motion passed to night ; For if our books are kept for scribbler's pen To scrawl whate'er they please on Aldermen, It does away with wisdom — justice — law, (Blister the latter — how I dread its claw !) 'Tis a burlesque — a folly- horrid shame, To write a lampoon on an honour'd name. I'd take the clerk's opinion— but he smiles : Just as I thought — he'll write to Serjeant Byles /* Up rises Wells ! — " What's Byles to do with we, " Arn't you our lawyer ? don't you grab each fee ? " Is every haxident to make a case " For BYLES to ovactise on ? Sir, 'tis your place ; " What do we pay ye for, if you carn't tell us tk Without fust haxing of your lamed fellers P " No Byles-— no Byles — give up if you don't know " How to keep, books without being scrawl'd in so. " Git out — give up— this always is the way, " You carn't do any think worth ha rf your pay—" f Byles seems quite a favorite of the Town Clork — he appeals to him on any trivial schoolboy case, reckless of the expencc — lie talks of giving up — better have a rogue than a ford. 13 First one and then another at him flings, And then upon the dais loudly rings The Blue Book — scourge of Fisher, and the Mayor, Which makes them startle, and grasp firm the chair. Now rise immortal Haslem ! — no — keep down, Or they'll throw Coppock at your hapless crown. This is the season — sweetener of toil — " The feast of folly— and the flow of bfteJ" Loud cheers, groans, hisses, howling, laughter jingling, Loud cries of order, with ■ chair, chair,' commingling, ' You are/ — ' I arn't' — ' who cares' — ' nor I for you.' w ' I'm off (the Captain cries) — gods ! whataerew, " Would that I had them on the ' vasty deep,' '' I'd use the cat, or better order keep." Proceed to business — Harris draw a case ; No— I 11 not plunge myself in more disgrace ; Sooner I'd lose the paltry situation, Than o-ive advice without consi-de-ra-tion — To be brow-beat and bullied when J rise, By those whose statesments I deny— despise- Rather I'd live upon my compensation Than thus submit to moral-degradation. If I retire and bow to such disgrace, A well-tried villain promptly fills the place. I'll take opinion— or suggest a room Be built, about the size of Stephen's* Tomb. * 1 must apologise to Adcock. for not giving him a page, — but ere he goes to Germany he shall have a whole Book, it may be printed at " Westerham'' in Kent,— the subject is too good to be hurried over. 14 Favell shall decorate the door — Deck's son Now wants a place — make keeper— then 'tis done. But who'll be bound ? why Stevenson* no doubt— He knows him best, for he has found him out. Has screen'd him whom stern justice would ordain, A lengthened journey o'er the stormy main. 'Tis put, and carried- -order— -now chair, chair, See Fisher faints again beside the Mayor. Shame Wells to hoist the " Blue Book" for his vision ^ So dreads the sight — do — pity his condition. Now Muster Mayor, recal your wand ring senses, I wants to know about these here expenses — " Sit down"— I shan't — you little jumping speck Of Suffolk honesty (!) I heard you Deck. Perhaps you thinks I dusnH know your woice, You put me down — why, I'm the People's choice. Where's Master Norris ? hold, too bad, shame, shame, Pll not be /interrupted— he's to blame ; He ought to know here now I'm not a dummy, With //arguments I'd mash him to a mummy. Who's to pay Cooper ? settle fust his bill, Or to a bolus he'll increase the pill — Shall it be paid— why yes — but when— by whom, Not I — not me — re-echoes round the room. Then I purpose, like wild geese in a row — Led by " John Darms" we all to quod should go — The Mayor lead fust — we j oiler in the rears, And cut the way with his bill- clipping shears. * If a poor povcrty-stnick and starving wretch had entered the ex-al- derman's shop, and stolen a book to obtain a meal, he would doubtless have been sacrificed to the offended laws of his country,— but it is diffcront with rich systematic prigs*; — but that's bred in the bone, &c. &c. 15 Agreed — agreed—" quite different*' — the smart We'd rather pay directly — what's our part? No parts— the whole or none— touch not the rate ; Take but a fraction you shall bear the weight, For he'll begin again — so — no more tricks Or he will seize the Corporashun sticks — I'm off, the Captain cries — adjourn — adjourn, The room's disgraceful — and deserves our scorn — Be ill next meeting*, Bishop — I entreat, Let Fawcelt take the now dishonor'd seat — He'll put the check-rein on — and will control With firmness — gentleness — he'll rule the whole — Take castor oil — have any thing — the gripes — A box of Morrison's — drink Wagstaff's swipes — Or ale no different — take a hearty pull Of any thing concocted at the ■'Bull." One draught will cure — or will increase the ills Clean as a waggon load of Brewster's Pills. Once more adjourn — then call a special meeting ; Consult the Tutors — then there's no retreating - . There are proud moments, when with honour crown'd We view the aged with their foreheads bound With wisdom's chaplets — there are times w 7 hen we Awe-struck admire a virtuous dignity — But must despise, when, and where'er we meet Such witless folly on a Judgement seat — And candour must condemn this intellectual treat. 1G PARODIES ON POPULAR SONGS. No. V. ALDERMAN BROWN. Tune. — Gipsey's Tent. Sung by Messrs. Brighton and Fisher, with great applause. A fire for the whigs — some hemp— and a tree, To suspend them by moonlight, how merry we'd be. From the hovel or hut— to the bold baron's hall, May famine o'ertake them — or else hang 'em all. Hurrah ! fill ihe Cup ! to the brim fill, my boys, Till the roof-tree shall ring with the sound of our joys : Let smiles beam among us, nor wear we a frown, But pledge we a bumper to Alderman Brown. O pant ye for Beauty— pray where would ye seek, Such bloom as emblazons the " Chronicler's" cheek. What tints can compare with the colour which glows On the soft dappled end of his rubicond nose. No laws can controul him — or keep him at home — A tippler to gin-shop and pot-house he'll roam : Gay Bacchus descend from your realm, and a crown, Or vine-wreath entwine upon Alderman Brown. We are Turncoats— and Knaves — but remember 'tis rare We give but to those who've a vote still to spare ; Much crime (at Elections) will fall to our lot, We have sins — can you tell us one whig who has not? Let that tribe boast of honor— detract — or defame, Like water from ducks — ochre covers the shame; There's few who have spirit w ith that to come down — Then pledge a full bumper to Alderman Brown. Preparing for Publication. CANTO VII. INCLUDING AN ODE TO FAT STEPHEN! &c. &c. JO*EPH WAKEFIELD DOUGHTY; 38, EDEN WALK. CAMBRIDGE. THE WIDOW'S LAMENT, LITERALLY RENDERED INTO VERSE, AND RESPECTFULLY ADDRESSED TO THE PARISHIONERS OF THE PARSON DESERTED PARISH. CALLED THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. BY ONE OF THE UNWASHED. CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY AND FOR JOSEPH WAKEFIELD DOUGHTY, 38, EDEN STREET. M.DCCCXLV, THE ARGUMENT. The Widder loseth her Pastor — and enmiirelh after him. She wondereth whether he takcth his rent, as he liveth so long away from the Parish. She reciteth how they have beautified the Clmrch — and -what a nice stool is made for his dear legs to stand upon. She alludeth to the stone altar which eauseth such discord in the Parish. She thinketh her Pastor inconsistent through refusing to preach — and blameth him for shutting up the church. Her Majesty's visit rushelh to her memory. She remembereth her fright and remarketh thereon. She enquireth why he runneth the Parish to such fearful cxpences. and thinketh who goeth to Law acteth contrary to Christianity, and disgraceth the cloth by begging. She holdeth the treadmill in terrorem, and warncth him. She counteth the Tottenho.m folks have more money than wit — but adviseth Rowland to collar all he can get. She feareth her minister will catch a lampooning — but telleth him the Essex Calves are welcome to him — Rowland winceth, and discord reigneth ! She remindeth him of the disgrace- ful practice of being carried from one Church to another, and expresseth a wish rather to be buried without any service at all. She brandeth him with Hypocrisy, and alludeth to Cranmer's fate. She cautioneth him not to be a Tool any longer for fear he should lose the Living — and pathetically con- cluded this song. THE WIDOW'S LAMENT. Oh ! where is my Shepherd ? he's gone far away, And hath left me a poor lonely widder to stray ; His flock are all wandering ! ah ! where can he be, For more than ten years he's been living from me. itave yon seen my Shepherd ? — direct me if yon Know anght of the Rover — or say is it true That he still takes the Rent and the bounty of Anne, And leaves us poor widders to do as we cam Is he still so unwell (i) that he keeps from the church? While his 'dear kind good people' 2 are left in the lurch; Year passes o'er year, — and 'tis yearly the same ; To be paid all for nought, we all know is a shame. There's beautiful pavements laid down for the floors, There's beautiful winders— and beautiful doors ; There's a beautiful pulpit, and beautiful font, And a beautiful stool when he likes to stand on't. There's a beautiful cross made to put him in mind Of his duty as parson to aged and blind — And there's the commandmnents hanging on high, To bid him sarve others as he'd be done by. That Pulpit and Desk's made on purpose to suit, When with Pusey he seeks controversial dispute ; The seats are all open behind and before, Because 'twas impossible he could see o'er. How often my pillar is wet with my tears, When I think of his absence for half a score years : Oh ! Faulkner! these fountains ere long will be dry — Come teach me to live — and instruct me to die. If I should turn Papisht in these my last days, When my reason grows childish and too often strays, Can he blame an old widder whose eyes are still sore, Because she can't hear her dear Preacher once more. Only think is't myself that would like to confess Ev'ry sin I commit — and each time I transgress To some shaven-shorn priest with a cross on his back, A belt round his gown — and his head in a sack. I'm tarmin'd to see him again ere I die, Ere my spirit flies up to the realms of the sky, If but to unload all the bile which is on My foolish old mind through the altar of stone.(S) Is't because a stone table is set up therein, That he still takes the Rent and yet leaves us to sin : He needn't be afeard that will hear him at prayer — Let him feel his own head, there is ivood enough there. What matters if credence or altar is made Of wood — brick— or stone — if a cloth's overlaid ; Besides, at my age how the sa^erment wine, With a wee bit of cake would assist me to dine. If at Havering(4) he ventures to lift up the cloth, He'll find a stone slab much too hard for the moth : 'Tant righteous, my Parson — my Ogre — my Beauty, To grab all the Ochre and never do duty. I found him at length — lonely pacing the aisle, What on earth are you waiting for royalty's smile — Your gown— band— and flappers, may float in the air, But Vic and her Albert did mortally stare. Oh proudly you walk'd up the aisle when the queen With her innocent face — and her illegant mien, Shegaz'd and exclaim'd, while her eye beam'd with joy, " Who on earth, my dear Albert's that singular boy. " Ah! don't know, mon Vic, but I'll ax when I can " See the warden alone, who's that dwarfish old man, "Or rather that person who shew'd us the steeple — " I think he's here only to frighten the people. " Just glance at his foot~-is't the father of evil( 5 ) — " Grammercy preserve us — it can't be the devil! " So resembling — unearthly — I'm fearful, dear Vic, " If no nearer, he's first cousin-german to Nick." " He never must preach before us at Whitehall, " Do hold me — I'm fainting— I tremble—I fall — " Oh send him, good warden, away from our sight, " We can't view the church while we see such a fright." And we (easy souls) were contented with you, Whose pledgesC 6 ) were given so frankly — how true I'll leave to yourself— but can't think it fairish That under false colours you run from the parish. Will litigious disputes, think ye, forward the cause ? Will you fly from the gospel to mystified laws ? Has a treadmill no terrors — ah ! sure as I'm born, I have hit it at last — you are looking fovlorn* What a hard case is yours — try — can't you prevail On some Bishop to credit your pitiful tale — Some Tottenham old women(') their mite may throw in To help the good cause (!) Rowland — collar the tin. Is the Temple of Peace — and of God's Holy word To breed only strife and vexatious discord ; Is the begg'd for, and cadg'd for amount to be spent, And frittered away with the rest of the rent. * Quaere lawn. — Printer's devil. All ! better to give up the living by far, Than perplex us with law ! and episcopal war — Are we to be ruin'tl while you get the fees ; But pray understand me — it a'nt as you please — For scurrilous roundheads will write roundelays, Will prepare for your pastime some myrtle or bays; And perhaps may not carefully pick out the thorns For the forehead of one who all honesty scorns : For say what you will, 'tis dishonest to take Your fees and do nothing — for Charity's sake Return us a little before all is gone, And at last you're oblig'd to put up with the stone. If you acted on principle then you would give The fees you receive — they would help us to live — And many poor widders old heart would rejoice If they got but the Cash, let theCalves keep you voice. There's Litchfield and Peters again for the rate — Aye knock on together—door's fast — you must wait ; They visit my neighbours with lengthening face, Demanding their money — lamenting their case. But verily, Faulkner, I say unto you, As my age still increases my comforts are few, 'Tis best to speak out — while your running such rigs, There's sense in the cry, Fewer Parsons! more PigsK 8 ) 8 Pray when does your ' license' for absence expire ? And when 'gainst the Pope doth your eloquence fire? O come ere your widder sinks down in despair, And dying laments she had no shepherd's care. Are mourners much longer to pace to and fro, When Death all-remorseless deals out the last blow, 'Tis unwise to protract the last scene — and your part Is bamboozling the public — and harrowing each heart. Shall my carcase be borne to St. Clement's, and then Have a prayer mumbled o'er me and hawk'dback again No Faulkner — I'd rather no lesson be read, Than to know such mummery was us'd when I'm dead. What on earth has a Parson to do with the law, There's fools enough surely to fill its wide maw ! Oh rush from the snare, lest our cash be mis-spent, Act only on Principle — don't take the Rent ! You say that you seek no reward in this world ; That you've put on your armour — your flag is unfurl'd. Is nine score pounds( 9 ) nothing to take from the poor ? Dont the brand of hypocrisy lay at your door. You say that 'tis cruel — to persecute one Who studies their welfare — and leaves them to shun All evil by preaching and practice — 'tis foul To slander a pastor who cares ( ™) for each soul. You can't in two places be preaching at once, That's a radical truth — and you're not such a dunce To believe that " the Camden" will listen to you, Will build up your Church — aye, and pay for it too. Only think should you venture to preach here again, What an untoward blunder — a stigma — a stain Did you wish to exhibit ? — it can't be you're arter Becoming, like Cranmer, a highly-dried martyr. Of a Party you may for awhile be the tool — May beg from each Bishop — and head of each school, May beg, till a Beggar for self you become Bereft of a Pluracy — Living — and Home. You may bottle your Eloquence up till you bust, You may read too the one-sided judgement of Fust. You may ruin our Parish — may run us in debt ; But for one who neglects us we have no regret. You may kick the Pope's breech as soon as you can, You may roar your a Victim ! (an excellent plan) May give up the Living whenever you please ; May a Martyr become— but don't pocket the fees ! NOTES. (1) Mr. Faulkner obtained a licence to absent himself from Cambridge a short time, in consequence of ill health. No one knew he was ailing — but although he had a perpetual cure given him at Havering in Essex, he never recovers ! Poor man ! He is indeed to be pitied ! (2) The usual way he formerly addressed the Parishioners. (3) The bone of contention between the parish and parson is because the Altar is placed so near the wall that he can't see between — at least that is his reason — if any reason exists. Others fancy while he can keep the Church closed he will not have to pay a curate. Miles's Boy declares the latter is nearest ! ! (4) Rather strange that Faulkner should have been preaching several years in Essex, and not discover that the Altar was marble — and fixed to the wall ; but to make the thing a stalking-horse. If that's consistency, Miles's Boy would be glad to know what is not. (5) The Queen started back two or three paces, evidently alarmed. ^- The original of Scott's Black Dwarf seemed before her — strutting like a bantum and perfumed like a polecat. Miles's Boy to his Aunt. (6) He pledged himself when elected not to absent himself more than once or twice in a year, intimating that he had no objection to sign an agreement to give up the living (which is in the gift of the parishioners) if he did. When asked to sign, he laughed, and told them it was too late — they should not have allowed him to have been been read in ; but as they had neglected the opportunity, he respectfully begged to decline ! Miles's Boy. (7) The Bishop of LlandafF sympathises with Faulkner, and sends him a beggarly five pounds — and the Parson eulogizes him accordingly — para- ding his letter in different newspapers, The Tottenham folks merely acquainted with his version, follow the example. Miles's Boy thinks, had they expended the sum about their own poor, instead helping to keep dis- cord alive here, it would have been more creditable to them. (8) Had the two thousand pounds paid Faulkner for doing nothing been annually and in equal moieties expended for the Poor, what lots of Pork and Coals it would have bought them. Miles's boy's mouth now waters at the very thought thereof. (9) The motto of a Flag much used in the North, where the folks are wiser — at least that is the compinion of Miles's Boy. (10) He involved the Parish in the law-suit, and now declares he's an injured man ! His duties, for nine score pounds per annum, being so neglected for eleven years — not having been known to preach more than twice. Miles's Boy. (11) Cares evidently much — goes away and there keeps. Verily he must be fond of Essex Calves ! — and then cries " how I'm persecuted." — Uc lias much cause to complain ! Shortly Ready. AN ODE TO FAT STEPHEN ON HIS INTENDED DEPARTURE EOR GERMANY. THE RED BULL, WITH THE SKETCH OF A CHARACTER, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-32m-8,'58(5876s4)444 AA 000 397 990 3 _PR Batt le of ~4he 3991 bench A£S£ PR 3991 A6tf6 mm mm mm