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 A
 
 THE NOCTES AMBROSIANii; 
 
 With Porteaits of Wilson, Lockhart,Maginx, Hogg, and facsimiles. 
 EDITED, WITH MEMOIRS, NOTES, AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 BY DR. SHELTON MACKENZIE, 
 
 Editor of Sukil's " Sketches or the Ikish Bar." 
 5 Vols., 12jho., cloth. Price $5.00. 
 
 The Noctes were commenced in 1S22, and closed in 1S35. Even in England, the lanss 
 of years has obscured many circumstances which were well known thirty vars ago. 
 
 Dr. Shelton Mackenzie, already favorably known as editor of Shell's "Sketches ot 
 the Irish B.ir," has undertaken the editorbhip of The Noctes AMBRosrAX.B, for which u 
 familiar acquaintance, during the last twenty-five years, with tlie per.^ons, events, and 
 places therein noticed may be assumed to qualify him. He has been on terms of intimacy 
 with most of the eminent political and literary cliaracters treated of in the "Noctes," 
 and his annotation of the text will include personal recollections of them. 
 
 Besides this, Dr. !\Iackenzie has written for this edition a " History of the Rise and Pro- 
 gress of Blackwood's Magazine," with original memoirs of the principal accredited authors 
 of the ''Noctes," via :— Professor Wilson, The Ettrick Shepherd, J. G. Lockhart, and 
 Dr. Maginn. 
 
 He will also give the celebrated " Chaldee Manuscript," published in 1S17, instantly 
 suppressed, and so scarce that the only copy which the editor has ever seen is that from 
 which he makes the present reprint. There will also be given the three articles, entitled 
 " Christopher in the Text," (in August and September, 1619), never before printed, in 
 any shape, in this country. The interlocutors in "' The Tent," include the greater number 
 of those afterwards introduced in the " Noctes." 
 
 The "Metricum Symphosium Ambrosianum," — an addendum to No. III. of " Thb 
 Noctes," (and which notices every living author of note, in the year 1822), will be in 
 corporated in this edition. This has never before been reprinted here. 
 
 Nearly Ready, in Two Volumes. 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS, 
 
 FOEMING THE FIEST PORTION OF THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF THE LATE 
 
 DR. MAGINN. 
 
 WITH AN ORIGINAL. MEMOIR AND COPIOUS NOTES, BT 
 
 DR. SHELTON MACKENZIE. 
 
 For more than a quarter of a century, the most remarkable magazine writer of his 
 time, was the late William Maginn, LL.I)., well-known as the Sir Morgan Odoherty ot 
 Blackwood'' s Magazine, and as the principal contributor, for many years, to I^raser^i 
 and other periodicals. The combined learning, wit, eloquenc*, eccentricity, and humol 
 of Maginn, had obtained for him, long before his death, (in 1843), the title of The 
 Modern Rabelais. His magazine articles possess extraordinary merit. He had the 
 art of putting a vast quantity of animal spirits upon paper, but his graver articles — which 
 contain sound and serious principles of criticism — are earnest and well-reasoned. 
 
 The collection now in hand will contain his Facetice (in a variety of languages). Trans- 
 lations, Travesties, and Original Poetry, also his prose Tales, which are eminently beauti- 
 ful, the best of his critical articles, (including his celebrated Shakspeare Papers), and 
 his Homeric Ballads. The periodicals in which he wrote have been ransacked, from 
 '' Blackwood" to " Punch," and the result will be a series of great interest. 
 
 Du. Shelton Mackenzie, who has undertaken the editorship of these writings of his 
 distinguished .jountryman, will spare neitlier labor nor atjention in ttie work. The 
 first volume will contain an original Memoir of Dr. Maginn, written by Dr Mackenzie 
 *nd a characteristic Portrait, with fac-simile. 
 
 Published b>/ J. S. REDFIELD, 
 
 110 cO 112 Nassau- street. New York
 
 PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION. 
 
 THE CONCLUDING VOLUMES OF 
 
 M. MAGINN'S MISCELLANEOUS WKITINGS, 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE SIIAKSPERE PAPERS-HOMERIC BALLADS— 
 FRASERIAN PAPERS, ETC. 
 
 ANNOTATED BY 
 
 Dr. SHELTON MACKENZIE 
 
 EDITOR OF " SHEIL's SKETCHES OF THE IRISH BAr" " THE N0CTE8 
 
 AMBROSIAN^," ETC. 
 
 Nearly ready, in Tivo Volumes, 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE 
 
 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN, 
 
 MASTER OF THE ROLLS, IRELAND, 
 
 BY HIS SON. 
 
 Edited, with Notes, Illustrations, &c. 
 
 By SHELTON MACKENZIE, D.O.L. 
 
 The Lifi! of Currnn is identified with the latost yenrs of Ireland's nationnlity. Ho was 
 Uiioivn, tried, and trusted as a true ratriot. Durinf,' the Reign of 'J'error, in 1798, jjot up 
 liy the Government of that day in order to bi'tniy the Irish Parliament into a parclnnent- 
 Union with Great Britain — sinking the country from a Kingdom to a Province — Cuiran 
 manifested an independence and fearlessness, as advocate for the accused, during the State 
 Trials, which endeared him to the people from whose ranks he sprung. To use the words 
 of Thomas Davis (who resembled him in many things) he was " a companion unrivalled 
 in sympathy and wit; an orator, whose thoughts went forth like ministers of nature, with 
 rolji's ol lii;ht and swords in their hands ; a patriot, who battled best when the flag was 
 trampled down ; and a genuine earnest man, breathing of his climate, his country, and his 
 time." 
 
 He was the centre of the flashing wits, the renowned orators, the brilliant advocates, and 
 the true patriots of Ireland's last days of independence. The Biography by his Son, rich 
 iis it is in personal details, is capable of great improvement by the addition of numerous 
 facts, anecdotes, and traits of character, relating to Curran and his contemporaries, which 
 have transpired since its publication in 1819. i)r. Shelton Mackenzie, who has long been 
 preparing for this task, undertakes to enrich the present edition by collecting and intro- 
 ducing these desirable illustrations. The work, thus completed, will in truth be a record 
 not only of Curran and his eminent associates, but of the stirring and troublous times 
 in which they lived. It will thus combine Biography and History, with Anecdote, unusu- 
 ally copious and "r.icy of the soil."
 
 MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 DR. MAGINN 
 
 EDITKD BY 
 
 Dr. SHELTON MACKENZIE 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 /ri^^^^^-^m.^,,^^
 
 THE 
 
 ODOHERTY PAPERS 
 
 BY THK LATE 
 
 WILLIAM MAGINN, LLD. 
 
 ANNOTATED BY 
 
 De. SHELTON MACKENZIE 
 
 EDITOR OF " SHKIL's SKETCHES OF THE IRISH BAr" " THE N0CTE8 
 
 AMBR0SIAN5:," ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 Vol. I 
 
 REDFIELD 
 
 34 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK 
 
 1855
 
 Kntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, 
 By J. S. REDFIELD, 
 iu the Cleik'a Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 STKIIKOTYI'ED BY C. C. SAVAGE, 
 13 Clmmbera Street, N. Y.
 
 EDITOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 0.\ William Maginn's death it was truly stated, by a writer 
 in Frasers Magazine, that he had " resembled Swift not mere- 
 ly in his wit, but in the utter carelessness with which he re- 
 garded the fate of the productions of his genius. If they 
 served the purpose of the moment, whether it were to make a 
 minister tremble or a lady smile, ' the Doctor' never troubled 
 himself further about his thunder or his jest. They might be 
 claimed by any passer-by, for no one ever contributed more 
 to the fame of others or so completely disregarded his own. 
 It is chiefly to this carelessness about all that more immediately 
 affected him that we must ascribe the want of some one great 
 Avork, whereby the Doctor might now be remembered. Though 
 in a marked degTee competent to bestow such a gift on the lit- 
 erary world, the natural discursiveness of his disposition indu- 
 ced him rather to find a ready vent for the superabundance of 
 his learning and Avit in the pages of the leading periodicals." 
 
 Maginn had Avhat might be called a fatal facility of compo- 
 sition. The stores of his learning and knowledge were so vast 
 that his memory ever found them exhaustless. The composi- 
 tion of a magazine-article, no matter what the subject, appeared 
 to involve scarcely any thing more than the mere manual labour 
 of putting it upon paper. He rarely had occasion to refer to 
 authorities. He Avas a great reader, and Avhat he once read ho 
 never fore-ot.
 
 vi editor's preface. 
 
 Few meu were equal to him in conversation — though he 
 Avas the reverse of a great talker. It was the variety of topics 
 upon which he threw a light, and not the diffusenegs of his re- 
 marks, which gave a proper idea of the wealth of his conver- 
 sation. Meet him when you might, turn the discourse into 
 whatever channels yon pleased, Maginn was master of every 
 subject — the most recondite as well as the most familiar. 
 
 Careless of his fame, and too fond of society (and its tempta- 
 tions) to devote himself steadily and continuously to any one 
 work, he has left behind him but disjecta mcmhra poctce. He 
 scattered — I might say wasted — his great powers on Maga- 
 zines. All that he wrote was marked with originality and 
 learning, wit and satire. They included a large range of sub- 
 jects — poetry, politics, classics, antiquities, history, criticism, 
 and fiction. 
 
 Under the sobriquet of Morgan Odohertv, he first obtained 
 a high reputation as a Magazine Avriter. The two volumes of 
 " Odoherty Papers" which I now lay before the public, are 
 principally taken from Waclacood. The remainder of this col- 
 lection will include Maginn's Shakspere Papers, his Homeric 
 Ballads, and other translations from the classics, his shorter 
 prose stories, his miscellaneous poetry, and such of his Fraserian 
 Papers as possess more than temporary interest. It may be 
 well to add that most of the present volumes were published 
 before Maginn had reached the age of thirty. 
 
 In the concluding portion of this collection of his Miscellane- 
 ous writings, I shall give a biography of Maginn, much more in 
 detail than the Memoir which I wrote last year, for the closing 
 volume of my edition of " The Noctes Ambrosian.e." 
 
 R. Shelton Mackenzie. 
 
 New Yokk, 
 April 14, 1855.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 Memoirs of Ensign and Adjittant Odoherty — page. 
 
 Chapter I. — Early Life. — Enters the Army. — Epigram on a Dowa- 
 ger. — Tragedy of Euphemia. — Stanzas to Lady Gilhooly. — Ballad 
 
 ,of Godolphin 1 
 
 Chapter II. — At the Battle of New Orleans. — Prisoner-at-War in 
 America. — Love-passages with Mrs. M'Whirter. — Imitations of John 
 "Wilson's Poetry. — Chanson-a-boire. — Residence in Modern Athens. 14 
 Chapter III. — Acquaintance with the Ettrick Shepherd, Sir WUliam , 
 Allan, <te. — Elegy in a Ball-Room. — Beppo Stanzas. — Laudation of 
 
 the Nicotian Weed 27 
 
 Chapter IV. — Success in Edinburgh Society. — Songs. — Visit to 
 Glasgow and Dublin. — Imitation of Monk Lewis. — Magazine Pa- 
 pers 46 
 
 Chapter V. — Christopher North's Guest in "Tlie Tent." — Rencon- 
 tre and Reconciliation with Mrs. M'Whirter. — Lecture on AVhiggism. 
 — Odoherty's Song. — The Powldoodies of Burran, a Bivalvicular 
 
 Chant.— The Last of the Lady 11 
 
 Note from Odoherty 91 
 
 Odoherty's Garland 93 
 
 The Eve of St. Jerry 96 
 
 The Rime of the Auncient Waggonere 101 
 
 Maxims of Odouerty 100 
 
 Don Juan Unread 179 
 
 The Irishman and the Lady 183 
 
 Here let me Dine 185 
 
 Ana 186 
 
 Chevy Chase; a Poem — Idem Latine Reddilum 191 
 
 The ]NL\n in the Bell SOo
 
 Vlll CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 TiiE Lost (and Found) Memorandum Book 211 
 
 A Remedy for the Poor Laws 213 
 
 Diary 215 
 
 Love Song 216 
 
 The So mn ambulatory Butcher 218 
 
 Ailie Mushat's Cairn 222 
 
 Japanese Poetry and Translation 223 
 
 Stanzas 223 
 
 FA>nLiAR Letter from tue Adjutant 227 
 
 Imitation of Scott 232 
 
 Coleridge. 235 
 
 Byron 235 
 
 Hogg 238 
 
 Wordsworth 238 
 
 240 
 
 Inishowex 242 
 
 There's not a Joy that Life can give 242 
 
 'Tis IN vain to complain 244 
 
 Chanson-a-Boire 244 
 
 Song of a Fallen Angel 245 
 
 Pococurante 246 
 
 An Hundred Years Hence 257 
 
 A Dozen Years Hence 259 
 
 The Pewter Quart 261 
 
 The Leather Bottle 264 
 
 The Black Jack 269 
 
 An Idyl on the Battle 277 
 
 A TwiST-iMONY in Favour of Gin-Twist 289 
 
 Irish Songs 295 
 
 Cork is the Alden for You, Love, and Me 305 
 
 English Songs 307 
 
 Lament for Lord Byron 319 
 
 Odooerty's Dirge 320 
 
 A Story without a Tail 321 
 
 Bob Burke's Duel with Ensign Brady 33G 
 
 Drink 361 
 
 Crambambulee 362 
 
 T«'enty-one Maxims to Marry by 363
 
 DR. MAGINN'S 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS. 
 
 Ef>t a^Xfot^tvt^ ^nptv&. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND WHITINGS OF ENSIGN 
 AND ADJUTANT ODOHERTY, LATE OF THE 99ik REGT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Odohorty's Debut. — His Progenitors and Education. — Obtains a Commission 
 in the Militia. — Love-Passages with Augusta M'Craw. — A Ten-shot Duel. — 
 Epigram on a Dowager. — Extract from an unpublished and uncommon 
 Tragedy. — Stanzas to Lady Gilhooly. — Volunteers into the Line. — Voyage 
 to Jamaica. — Jen d^ Esprit. — Too late for Embarkation. — Sent to Coventry 
 by his Fellow-Officers. 
 
 If there is something painful to the feelings in the awful cer- 
 emonial of consigning a deceased friend to the grave, there is 
 something equally consolatory to our affection in perpetuating 
 the remembrance of his talents and virtues, and gathering for 
 his grave a garland which shall long flourish green among the 
 children of men. This may indeed be termed the last and high- 
 est proof of our regard, and it is this task which I am now about 
 to discharge (I fear too inadequately) to my deceased friend, 
 Ensign and Adjutant Odoherty, late of the 99th or King's Own 
 Tipperary regiment.* 
 
 * In the deeply pathetic lyric — "most musical, most melancholy," — called 
 Jack Robinson (which may be sung, with a chorus, to that touching melody 
 
 Vol. I— 1
 
 'A THE ODOHERTY PArERS. 
 
 In offering to the public some account of the life and writings 
 of this gentleman, I have jileasure in believing that I am not 
 intniding on their notice a person utterly unknown to them. His 
 poems, which have appeared in A\irious periodical publications, 
 have excited a very large portion of the public curiosity and 
 admiration ; and when transplanted into the different volumes 
 of the Annual Anthology, they have shone with undiminished 
 lustre amid the blaze of the great poetical luminaries by which 
 they were surrounded * 
 
 The Sailors' Hornpipe), there are a few lines applicable to this case. A lady, 
 rejoicing in the picturesque and euphonious name of Polly Grey, and who has 
 " gone and done it," in the way of matrimony, with a male personage other 
 than Mr. Robinson, to whom she had been engaged " three years ago, afore he 
 went to sea," is accused of infidelity, and adroitly defends herself. Admitting 
 that she had manied another man, "because she could not wait," she — but 
 we must quote her own words : — 
 
 " for somebody one day came, and said 
 As somebody else had someveres read. 
 In some newspaper, as how you was dead," — 
 " I have not been dead at all," said Jack Robinson. 
 Odoherty's biographer appears in error, even as Polly Grey was, in re Jack 
 Robinson, when he speaks of the ensign and adjutant as " deceased." This 
 first portion of the biography appeared in Blackwood^s Magazine, number 
 eleven, for Februaiy, 1818, and in the course of the following year (as 
 will subsequently be seen) Odoherty, like Jack Robinson, emphatically declared 
 that he " had not been dead at all." As, in a case like this, the individual 
 himself is generally supposed to be the best authority as to suspended or actual 
 vitality, it is pretty evident that, albeit Odoherty be above mentioned as de- 
 funct, he is to be considered as actually alive — so far as the Magazine is con- 
 cerned. — M. 
 
 * The Annual Anthology, which flourished some sixty or seventy years ago, 
 when verse-writers were comparatively scarce in England, was a receptacle for 
 compositions, bearing the brevet rank or courtesy title of Poetry, which, classed 
 under the generic name of " little effusions," were usually collected from the 
 mysterious portion of the newspapers called "Poets' corner." Now and then, 
 by accident or luck, something readable was thus preserved, but the general 
 character of the collection was so low that were a criminal given the choice 
 between twelve montlis' labor at the oar, as a galley slave, and six months' 
 perusal of the Anthology, the chance is that, at the end of the fii'st fortnight, 
 he would eagerly solicit the privilege of the galleys, as the lesser evil! The 
 Annual Anthology, in fact, was a sort of poetic safety-valve, in its day, such 
 as the Annuals have formed in our own, and its contents came under the gen- 
 eral and generic terms " dull and decent." — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 3 
 
 Never M%as there a man more imbued with the very sonl and 
 spii'it of poetry than Ensign and Adjutant Odoherty. Cut off 
 in the bloom of his years, ere the fair and lovely blossoms of his 
 youth had time to ripen into the golden fruit by which the au- 
 tumn of his days would have been beautified and adorned, he 
 has depi'ived the literature of his country of one of its brightest 
 ornaments, and left us to lament that youth, virtue, and talents, 
 should aflford no protection from the cruel hand of death. 
 
 Before proceeding to the biographical account of this extra- 
 ordinary person, which it is my intention to give, I think it prop- 
 er previously to state the very singular manner in which our 
 friendship had its commencement. One evening, in the month 
 of October, 1812, 1 had the misfortune, from some chcumstances, 
 here unnecessary to mention, to be conveyed for a night's lodg- 
 ing to the watch-house in Dublin. I had there the good fortune 
 to meet Mr. Odoherty, who was likewise a prisoner. He was 
 seated on a wooden stool, before a table garnished with a great 
 number of empty pots of porter.* He had a tobacco-pipe in his 
 
 * We beg leave to hint to our Iiish coiTcsponclciit, tlmt if the pots were empty, 
 they could scarcely be termed pots of porter. — Blackwood. [And I beg 
 leave to hint that, in the watch-house in Dublin, in 1812, such a liquid as 
 porter was not at all likely to be in request. The drink of that region would 
 inevitably be — whiskey punch. In 1812, very little malt liquor was used in 
 Ireland. Most of what was made was exj^orted to the British army then under 
 Wellington in the peninsula, to the British West India islands, and to the 
 East Indies. The soldiers drank it, of course, as if it were so much "mother's 
 milk" — only a great deal stronger. In the West Indies, where the drought 
 was great, the draughts were copious. In the East Indies, whenever what was 
 called Cork porter and Fermoy ale happened to arrive, in anything like good 
 condition, it brought a great price, and was imbibed freely. But, in thosn 
 days, brewers had not arrived at the present certainty of making ale as drinka- 
 ble on the banks of the Ganges as in London, Dublin, Cork, and Edinburgh, 
 In 1812, London porter was scarcely exported to the East or West Indies: 
 Edinburgh ale was not known much beyond the city of its birth ; and the sup- 
 plies were sent from the porter breweiy of Beamish and Crawford, of Cork, 
 and the ale brewei-y of Thomas Walker & Co., of Fermoy. The last-named 
 concern has wholly ceased, but Cork city rejoices in Beamish and Crawford's 
 porter brewery, whence it also taken one of its parliamentary representatives 
 (1855), in the person of Frank Beamish. At present, the pale ale of Bass and 
 Alsop — rival houses in the small English town of Burton-upon-Trent — is the 
 favorite tipple in British India, where one man asks another to " take a glass
 
 4 - THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 mouth, and was talking with great galLantiy to two young ladies 
 of a very interesting appearance, who had been brought there 
 under similar chcumstances to himself. There was a touching 
 melancholy in the expression of his countenance, and a melting 
 softness in his voice, which interested me extremely in his favor. 
 With all that urbanity of manner by which he was distinguished, 
 he asked me " to take a sneaker of his swipes." I accepted the 
 invitation, and thus commenced a friendship which ended only 
 with his life, and the fond remembrance of which shall cease 
 only with mine. 
 
 Morgan Odoherty was born in the county of Kilkenny, in the 
 year 1789. His father acted for many years as a drover to the 
 Right Honorable Lord Ventry, at that period an eminent gra- 
 zier ;* and on that gentleman's being raised to the peerage, he 
 
 of Bass" with him, just as, elsewhere, he would invite him to take a glass of 
 champagne. It is sui-prising that in Calcutta, Madras, or Bombay, some cap- 
 italist does not commence an ale and porter brewery, and go in to make a 
 fortune thereby. Long after Odoherty's time, Guinness's Dublin porter came 
 into note in rivalry with " London Stout." The story goes that Guinness 
 had no great note until the full body of one particular brewing attracted the 
 attention of those who malt. On cleaning out the vat, there were found the 
 bones and part of the dress of one of the workmen, who had been missing for 
 some weeks. Guinness, it is said, sang small about the matter, but to give his 
 porter the required body, instead of boiling down a man, as before, substituted 
 a side of beef, and has continued the ingredient from that time to this. So, 
 after all, even a lee-totaller must admit that Guinness's porter is but a malted 
 description of — beef -tea I — M. 
 
 * Tht-re is a trifhng error of fact here. Lord Ventrj- never was " an emi- 
 nent drover," — nor anything half so useful. The family name is Mullins — a 
 patronymic so ungenteel, that it was changed, by letters patent under Queen 
 Victoria's signature (dated 24th February, 1841), to that of " De Moleyns," 
 which, it was hoped, had somewhat of the Norman flavor, and sounded as if 
 it had come down from the Conquest. The Mullins family pretend that they 
 are relations of that Sir Richard Molyneaux, in Lancashire, who founded the 
 ennobled house of Sefton ; also that thence came the De Moleyns of Norfolk, 
 descended from a baronial house of that name in Hants. The fact is a certain 
 trooper called Colonel Mullins settled in Ireland, and bought estates (out of his 
 plunder) in Ulster, which he exchanged for property in the "Kingdom of 
 Ken-y," and became a member of the Irish Parliament, in the reign of Wil- 
 liam III. A descendant of his was made a baronet in 1797, and raised to the 
 peerage, as Baron Ventry, in July, 1800. A schoolfellow of mine, at Fermoy in 
 Ireland, some thirty years ago, piqued himself so much on his noble birth that
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOIIERTY. 5 
 
 sncceeded to a very considerable portion of his business. He 
 had certainly many opportunities of amassing wealth, but the 
 truth is, he only provided meat for others, with the view of get- 
 ting drink for himself. By his wife he had acquired a small 
 property in the county of Carlow, which it was his intention to 
 have kept as a provision for his family. His business, however, 
 gradually decreased, and on the last settlement of his accounts, 
 when he came to hquidate the claims of his creditors on his es- 
 
 hc had written in all his school-books, " Frederick William Mulliiis, giaiidson 
 of the Right Honorable Lord Ventry." As schoolboys are more or less demo- 
 cratic, such an aristocratical inscription as this was unanimously voted " most 
 tolerable and not to be endured." Mulling was civilly requested to erase it, 
 and, on his refusal, there was a solemn incremation of the whole of the books so 
 inscribed. In later yeai's, this Mullins sat in Parliament for Kerry, and was 
 committed to Newgale, London, early in March, 1854, on the charge of utter- 
 ing a forged power of attorney, and obtaining thereon the amount of fifteen 
 hundred pounds sterling stock, &c., in the Bank of England, belonging to a 
 person of the name of Simpson. Mrs. Lucy de Molyns, his wife, was like- 
 wise arrested, and committed on the same charge, but providing the necessary 
 bail for her appearance at the next Central Criminal Court Sessions, she was 
 liberated. Mr. de Molyns was unable to procure the extent of bail demanded 
 (four thousand pounds sterling), and was in consequence conveyed to Newgate, 
 where he died on March 16, 1854. An inquest was held, and a verdict of nat- 
 ural death recorded. — Apropos of the sneer, by Odoherty s biographer, at 
 " an eminent grazier," it may be as well to state that this class of money makers 
 usually accumulated large fortunes in Ireland. One of them, a Mr. Lyons, 
 who lived at Croom in the county of Limerick, purchased vast landed estates, 
 and pushed his sons forward, by his wealth, in the church, the army, and at 
 the bar. Once upon a time (as the old stoi-y books say), he gave a sj)lendid 
 dejeuner a la fonrchelte, to which he invited the leading people of the county. 
 Among them was the Lady Isabella Fitzgibbon, (sister of the Earl of Clare), 
 who, affecting either fashionable airs or probably having had a good meal 
 of beef-steaks, before she went out, neglected most of the delicacies of the 
 table, and merely trifled with a lobster salad. Old Lyons, who had a great 
 respect for the substantials, by which he had realized his money, turned round 
 to her as she sat by his side, the picture of aristocratical nonchalance, and 
 kindly said, "Ah, then, my lady, why don't you take some of the good beef 
 and mutton, the chickens and the turkeys, and don't be filling your stomach 
 with that could cabbage !" Lady Isabella almost fainted, but contrived to 
 survive. She is yet alive, and unniamed, at that " certain age," which, Byron 
 wickedly says, means "certainly aged." Such is the mournful result of neg- 
 lecting wholesome fare, and " filling the stomach with could cabbage." Let it 
 be a warning to her sex ! — AI.
 
 6 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 tatc, he found, to his astonisliment, that he had long since liqui- 
 dated his own. The discovery was fatal. The loss of his cred- 
 it with the world he might have survived, hut the loss of his 
 credit with the whiskey merchant drove him to despair. He 
 died in the year 1798, a melancholy monument of an ill-spent 
 life. 
 
 Of his mother, Mr. Odoherty was ever in the habit of talking 
 with gratitude and respect ; and the manner in which she dis- 
 charged the duties of her situation to himself and his three sis- 
 ters, I have every reason to believe was highly exemplary. 
 And with the exception of the circumstance of a posthumous 
 child making its appearance about fourteen months after the 
 death of her husband, there occurred nothing which could raise 
 a doubt of her being the most virtuous of her sex. Being en- 
 dowed with a considerable taste for letters, Mrs. Odoherty deter- 
 mined that her son should receive a lihcral education, and ac- 
 cordingly sent him to a charity school in the neighborhood. 
 
 At this school, I have reason to believe, he remained about 
 four years, when, by the interest of his uncle, Mr. Dennis Odo- 
 herty, butler to the Eight Honorable Lord Muskerry,* he was 
 received into his lordship's family as an under-domestic. In 
 this noble family Ensign and Adjutant Odoherty soon became 
 an vniiversal favorite. The sweetness of his temper, the grace 
 and vigor of his form, which certainly belonged more to the class 
 of Hercules than the Apollo, rendered him the object of the fer- 
 vent admiration of the whole female part of the family. Nor 
 did he long remain in a menial situation. By the intercession 
 af Lady Muskerry, he was appointed under-steward on the es- 
 tate, and on his lordship's being appointed colonel of the Lim- 
 erick militia in 1808, his first care was to bestow a pair of colors 
 on Mr. Odoherty. 
 
 Never surely did a gift bestow more honor on the giver, and 
 Lord Muskerry had the satisfaction of raising, to his proper st-a- 
 
 * Baron Muskerry, of Springfield Castle, in the county of Limerick, Ireland, 
 is the representative of a Mr. Deane, settled in Dromore, in the county of Cork, 
 in the time of James I. A baronetcy was confen-ed on the then head of tho 
 family, in 1709, during the reign of Queen Anne, and an Irish peerage, in 
 1781, " when George III. was king." The first Lord Muskerry obtained his 
 Limerick property' by marriage with tho heiress of the Fitzmaurice family. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 7 
 
 tion in society, a youtli whose talents -were destined, not only to 
 do honor to the Lhnerick militia, but to his country and the 
 world. In this situation, it is scarcely necessary to state, he was 
 the very life and soul of society wherever he was quartered. 
 Not a tea-party could be formed, not an excursion could be 
 planned in the neighborhood, without IVIr. Odoherty being in- 
 cluded in it. In short he was like the verb in a sentence, quite 
 impossible to be wanted. I have been informed by several offi- 
 cers of the regiment, that he was the greatest promoter of con- 
 viviality at the mess. His wine, to use their own expression, 
 was never lost on him, and, toward the conclusion of the third 
 bottle, he was always excessively amusing. 
 
 When quartered with his regiment at Ballinasloe, in the year 
 1809, he became smitten with the charms of a young lady of 
 that city, who, from what I have heard of her person and tem- 
 per, was all 
 
 " That youthful poets fancy when they love." 
 
 Her father was a man of considerable wealth, and what is called 
 middle-man, or agent to several of the noblemen and gentlemen 
 of the country. Her name was Miss Augusta M'Craw, and her 
 family were believed to be descended from the M'Craws of In- 
 verness-shire, a house which yields to none in the pride of its 
 descent, or the purity of its blood. Mr. M'Craw, indeed, used to 
 dwell, with great complacency, on the exploits of an ancestor of 
 the family. Sir John M'Craw, who flourished in the reign of 
 James III., who not only defeated a Sir James M'Gregor, in a 
 pitched battle, but actually kicked him round the lists, to the 
 great amusement of the king and all his court. In this exercise, 
 however, there is a tradition of his having dislocated his great 
 toe, which ended in a whitlow, of Avhich he died about three 
 years afterward, leaving his fate as a lesson to his successors, of 
 the consequences attending such unknightly behavior. 
 
 To this lady, as I already mentioned, Mr. Odoherty formed 
 a most devoted attachment, and he accordingly made her an 
 offer of his heart and hand. The young lady returned his at- 
 tachment with sincerity, but her father and mother were most 
 unaccountably averse to the connection. On stating to them 
 the affection he entertained for their daughter, and sohciting their
 
 8 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 consent to its legal consummation, lie was treated with the ut- 
 most iudignitj, and desired to quit the house immediately. On 
 his remonstrating against this improper treatment, the brother of 
 the lady attempted to pull him by the nose, and Mr. Odoherty 
 retreated with the very proper resolution of demanding the sat- 
 isfaction of a gentleman. He accordingly sent him a message 
 the next day, and a meeting was the consequence. 
 
 On this occasion Ensign Odoherty behaved with all the cool- 
 ness of the most experienced veteran. They fired nine shots 
 each without effect, but, in the tenth round, Mr. Odoherty re- 
 ceived a wound in the cheek, which carried off three of his jaw 
 teeth, and entirely demolished one of his whiskers. On receiv- 
 ing the wound, he raised his hand to his face, and exclaimed 
 with the greatest coolness, " a douce in the chops, egad." 
 By this wound he was unfortunately ever afterward much dis- 
 figured, and was afflicted with a stiffness in the neck, from which 
 he never recovered. Miss Augusta M'Oraw was married, a short 
 time afterward, to a lieutenant of artillery, and Mr. Odoherty 
 very feehngly expressed his regret and sorrow on the occasion, 
 by two odes on the inconstancy of women, which appeared in 
 the Irish newspapers, and were afterward recorded in the Lady's 
 Magazine for October, 1811. 
 
 Let it not be supposed, however, that, in the progress of the 
 events which I have been relating, his poetical talents had re- 
 mained dormant. Although we do not find, in his pieces of this 
 period, the same lofty degree of excellence which was afterward 
 so prominent in his more mature productions, yet they are all 
 imbued with very considerable spirit and imagination. They had 
 hitherto been generally rather of a light and amatory nature ; but 
 of his talents for satire, I believe the following epigram, on a cer- 
 tain amorous dowager, will afford not an unfavorable specimen : — 
 
 If a lover, sweet creature, should foolishly seek 
 
 On thy face for the bloom of the rose. 
 Oh tell him, although it has died on thy cheek, 
 
 He will find it at least on thy nose. 
 
 Sweet emblem of virtue ! rely upon this. 
 
 Should thy bosom be wantonly prest. 
 That if the rude ravisher gets but a kiss, 
 
 He'll be ready to fancy the rest '
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 9 
 
 I also find, among Lis papers, an unfinished tragedy, avIiIcIi I 
 conjecture, must have been composed about this time. It is en- 
 titled Euphemia, and, in my opinion, displays an uncommon de- 
 gree of genius. I shall only extract part of one scene, Avhich 
 strikes me as being executed in the most masterly manner. The 
 Princess Euphemia is represented as passing a sleepless night, 
 in consequence of the imprisonment of her lover Don Carlos. 
 Toward morning, she breaks out into the following impassioned 
 reflections: — 
 
 Euphemia. Ah, 'tis a weary night! Alas, will sleep 
 Ne'er darken my poor day-lights ! I have watched 
 The stars all rise and disappear again ; 
 Capricorn, Orion, Venus, and the Bear: 
 I saw them each and all. And they are gone. 
 Yet not a wink for me. The blessed Moon 
 
 Has journeyed through the sky : I saw her rise . ' 
 
 Above the distant hills, and glonously 
 Decline beneath the waters. My poor head aches 
 Beyond endurance. I'll call on Beatrice, 
 And bid her bring me the all-potent draught 
 Left by Fernando the apothecary, 
 At his last visit. Beatrice ! She sleeps 
 As sound as a top. What, ho, Beatnce ! 
 Thou art indeed the laziest waiting maid 
 Thnt ever cursed a princess. Beatrice ! 
 
 Beatrice. Coming, your highness ; give me time to throw 
 My night-gown o'er my shoulders, and to put 
 My flannel dicky on ; 'tis mighty cold 
 At these hours of the morning. 
 
 Eupliem. Beati'ice. 
 
 Beat. I'm groping for my slippers; would you have me 
 Walk barefoot o'er the floors? Lord, I should catch 
 My death of cold. 
 
 Eupliein. And must thy mistress, then, I say, must she 
 Endure the tortures of the damned, whilst thou 
 Art groping for thy slippers ! Selfish wretch ! 
 Learn, thou shalt come stark-naked at my bidding, 
 Or else pack up thy duds and hop the twig. 
 
 Beat. Oh, my lady, forgive me that I was so slow 
 In yielding due obedience. Pray, believe me. 
 It ne'er shall happen again. Oh, it would break 
 My very heart to leave so beautiful 
 And kind a mistress. Oh, forgive me ! 
 
 Euphcm. Well, well ; I fear I was too hasty : 
 1*
 
 10 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 But want of sleep, and the fever of my blood, 
 
 Have soured my natural temper. Bring me the phial 
 
 Of physic left by that skilful leech Fernando, 
 
 With Laudanum on the label. It stands 
 
 Upon the dressing-table, close by the rouge 
 
 And the Olympian dew. No words. Evaporate. 
 
 Beat. I fly ! \_exit. 
 
 Euphem. {sola.) Alas, Don Carlos, mine own 
 Dear wedded husband ! wedded ! yes ; wedded 
 In th' eye of Heaven, though not in that of man. 
 Which sees the forms of things, but least knows 
 That which is in the heart. Oh, can it be, 
 That some dull words, muttered by a parson 
 In a long drawling tone, can make a wife, 
 
 And not the 
 
 Enter Beatrice. 
 
 Beat. Laudanum on the label ; right : 
 Here, my lady, is the physic you require. 
 
 Euphem. Then pour me out one hundred drops and fifty, 
 With water in the glass, that I may quaff 
 Oblivion to my misery. 
 
 Beat. 'Tis done. 
 
 Euphem. {drinks.) My head turns round ; it mounts into my brain. 
 I feel as if in paradise ! My senses mock me : 
 Methinks I rest within thine arms, Don Carlos ; 
 Can it be real? Pray, repeat that kiss ! 
 I am thine own Euphemia. This is bliss 
 Too great for utterance. Oh, ye gods 
 If Hellespont and Greece ! Alas, I faint. 
 
 \_faints. 
 
 The lieart of Mr. Oclolierty w.as of the tenclerest and most in- 
 flammable description, and he now formed an attachment to a 
 lady Gilhooly, the rich widow of Sir Thomas Gilhooly, knight, 
 who, on account of some private services to the state, was knight- 
 ed during the lieutenancy of Lord Hardwicke.* His love to 
 
 * The third Earl of Hardwicke, grandson of the great Lord Chancellor 
 Hardwicke, was born in 1757, was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1801 to 
 1806, and died in 1834. His son, the present Earl (1854) has been a membei 
 of the British government (Tory) as postmaster general. During the viceroy- 
 alty of Lord Hardwicke (in May, 1804) Cobbett was tried for a libel in his 
 Register, tending to bring the Viceroy and several Irish officials into contempt. 
 For this he was fined five hundred pounds sterling. In the same month he 
 was also tried and convicted for a libel on Mr. (the late Lord) Plunkct, and had 
 to pay another five hundred pounds damages. Up to that period Cobbett had
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 11 
 
 this lady was of the most modest and retiring nature, and he 
 never ventured to make a personal declaration of his passion. 
 He has commemorated it, however, in the following beautiful 
 and pathetic stanzas : — 
 
 Oh, lady, in the laughing' hour?. 
 When time and joy go hand in hand ; 
 When pleasure strews thy path with flowers, 
 And but to wish is to command ; 
 When thousands swear, that to thy lips 
 A more than angel's voice is given, 
 And that tliy jetty eyes eclipse 
 The bright, the blessed stars of heaven ; 
 Might it not cast a ti-embling shade 
 Across the light of mirth and song. 
 To think that there is one, sweet maid, 
 That loved thee hopelessly and long ; 
 That loved, yet never told his flame. 
 Although it burned his soul to madness ; 
 That lov'd, yet never breathed thy name. 
 Even in his fondest dreams of gladness. 
 Though red my coat, yet pale my face, 
 Alas, 'tis love that made it so. 
 Thou only canst restore its gi-ace. 
 And bid its wonted blush to glow. 
 Restore its blush ! oh, I am wrong. 
 For here thine art were all in vain ; 
 My face has ceased to blush so long, 
 I fear it ne'er can blush again ! 
 
 This moving expression of passion appears to have produced 
 no effect on the obdurate fair one, who was then fifty-four years 
 of age, with nine children, and a large jointure, Avhich would 
 certainly have made a very convenient addition to the income 
 of Mr. Odoherty. He now resolved on volunteering into the 
 line.* He was unwilling that his sei*vices should be confined to 
 
 gnnerally supported Pitt's Toiy government, but these prosecutions, avowedly 
 undertaken to silence him, only barlied his arrows against the Tory party. So, 
 indirectly, Lord Hardwicke was the cause of Cobbett's becoming a democratic 
 writer. — M. 
 
 ** Volunteering from the militia into " the line" was generally in vogue during 
 the last war between England and France. In the regular army of England, 
 called " the line," commissions are mostly obtained by purchase only, whereas 
 they might be got in the miliiia almost for the asking. It was a common 
 practice, therefore, among those who were afflicted with what Johnson would
 
 12 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the comparatively inactive and inglorious duties of a militia offi- 
 cer, and lie therefore determined to wield his sword, or, as he 
 technically called it, his spit, wherever the cause of his country 
 should demand it. He was soon after appointed to an ensigncy 
 in the 44th regiment, then in the West Indies ; and, on the l4th 
 T>f August, 1814, he embarked at Dover in the schooner John 
 Dory, Captain Godolphin, for Jamaica, He experienced a 
 tedious passage,'and they were unfortunate enough to fall in 
 with an American privateer, fi-om which, however, after a smart 
 action, they had the good luck to escape. 
 
 The following jnt cVesprit gives so favorable a specimen of 
 his talent for humor, that I can not refuse the reader the pleas- 
 ure of submitting it to his perusal : — 
 
 Captain Godolphin was a very odd and stingy man, 
 
 AVhose skipper was, as I'm assur'd, of a schooner-rigg'd West Iiidiaman ; 
 Tiie wind was fair, he went on board, and when he sail'd from Dover, 
 Says he, " this trip is but a joke, for now I'm half seas over !" 
 
 The captain's wife, she sail'd with him, this circumstance I heard of her, 
 Her brimstone breath, 'twas almost death to come within a yard of her; 
 With fiery nose, as red as rose, to tell no lies I'll stoop. 
 She looked just like an admiral with a lantern at his poop. 
 
 Her spirits sunk from eating junk, and as she was an epicure. 
 She swore a dish of dolphin fish would of her make a happy cure. 
 The captain's line, so strong and fine, had hooked a fish one day, 
 When his anxious wife Godolphin cried, and the dolphin swam away. 
 
 The wind was foul, the weather hot, between the tropics long she stewed, 
 The latitude was 5 or 6, 'bout 50 was the longitude. 
 When Jack the cook once spoilt the sauce, she thought it mighty odd. 
 But her husband bawi'd on deck, why, here's the Saucy Jack,* by God. 
 
 The captain sought his charming wife, and whispered to her private ear, 
 " My love, this night we'll have to fight a thumping Yankee privateer." 
 On this he took a glass of rum, by which he showed his sense ; 
 Resolved that he would make at least a spirited defence. 
 
 call "impecuniosity" (or want of money), to become a militia officer, and 
 thence volunteer into the line, for foreign service the result being a gratuitous 
 appointment to a commission in some infantry regiment, on a vacancy by death 
 or resignation. Some of the best officers in the British army thus obtained 
 their first commissions. Odoherty, it seems was fired with a valorous desire 
 thus cheaply to obtain the means of distinguishing himself in the field. — M. 
 * A celebrated Araeiican privateer.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 13 
 
 The cnptnin of the Saucy Jack, he was a dark and dingy man ; 
 
 Says he, " my ship must take, this trip, this schooner-ngg'd West Iiulinnman. 
 
 Each at his gun, we'll show them fun, the decks are all in order: 
 
 But mind that every lodger here, must likewise be a boarder.'" 
 
 No, never was there wanner work, at least I rather think not, 
 With cannon, cutlass, grappling-iron, blunderbuss, and stink-pot. 
 The Yankee captain, boarding her, cried, either sti'ike or drown ; 
 Godolphin answered, " then I strike," and quickly knocked him down. 
 
 The remaining thirty verses of this poem, giving an account 
 of the action and the subsequent voyage to Jamaica, of how Mrs, 
 Godolphin was killed by a cannon ball lodging in her stomach, 
 and how Captain Godolphin afterward died of the yellow fever, 
 I do not think it necessary to insert. It is sufficient to say, they 
 are fully equal to the preceding, and are distinguished by the 
 same quaintness of imagination, and power of ludicrous expres- 
 sion. 
 
 On his arrival at Jamaica, he found it the rendezvous of the 
 force destined for the attack of New Orleans, under the com- 
 mand of the brave though unfortunate Sir Edward Pakenham.* 
 Of this force the 44th regiment formed a part, and the heart of 
 Mr. Odoherty throbbed with delightful anticipation of the high 
 destiny to which he felt himself called. A circumstance now 
 occurred, however, which bid fair to cloud his prospects for ever. 
 On the evening before the sailing of the armament fbr its desti- 
 nation, Mr. Odoherty had gone on shore. He there chanced to 
 meet an old schoolfellow, who filled the situation of slave-driver 
 or whipper-in to a neighboring plantation. This gentleman in- 
 vited him to his house, and they spent the night in pouring forth 
 the most liberal libations of new rum, which they drank fresh 
 fl-oni the boilers. The consequence was, that next morning, on 
 the sailing of the fleet, Mr. Odoherty was absent. His friend, 
 the whipper-in, however, who was less drunk than his guest, 
 had the good sense to foresee the consequences of his being left 
 behind on so pressing an occasion. He hired a couple of negroes 
 to row after the fleet, had Ensign Odoherty carried insensible to 
 
 * Major General Sir Edward Pakenham was killed at the battle of New 
 Orleans, on the 8th of January, 1815. He was son of the second Lord Long- 
 ford, brother-in-law of the Duke of Wellington, and had distinguished himself 
 in the Peninsular war. — M.
 
 14 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 tlie boat, and lie was convejoA to Lis ship, as he himself humor- 
 ously teiTQed it, " as drunk as David's sow." The commanding 
 officer immediately placed him under an arrest, and it Avas only 
 on his expressing the most sincere contrition for his folly, joined 
 Avith many promises of amendment, that he Avas again allowed 
 to perform the duties of his situation. After this, few of the 
 officers of the regiment thought proper to associate with him ; 
 and Avith the exception of some who had formerly been his com- 
 panions in the militia, he was placed m CoA^entry by the whole 
 corps. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Odoherty at the Battle of New Orleans. — Disastrous Episode of the Snuff-Box. 
 — A Prisoncr-at-War in Boston. — Ode to the Whale off Long Island. — Res- 
 idence in Philadelphia. — Intimacy with the Widow M'Whirter. — Return to 
 England. — A Widow's Poetic Fulmination. — Iniitation of Professor Wil- 
 son's Poetry. — Joins the 99th Foot. — Stanzas to his late Mess-mates. — Ar- 
 rival at Edinburgh. — Popularity in " Auld Reekie." — The Dilettanti. — 
 Ode to Bill Young, the Tavern-Keeper. 
 
 It is not my intention, in this chapter, to recapitulate the vari- 
 ous calamities of the siege of New Orleans. That the armament 
 was utterly inadequate to accomplish the object of the expedi- 
 tion, is noAV generally admitted. Fitted out for the express pur- 
 pose of besieging one of the strongest and most formidable for- 
 tresses of America,* it Avas not only unprovided with a battering 
 train, bi;t without a single piece of heavy ordnance to assist in 
 its reduction. Sir Edward Pakenham, therefore, on his arrival 
 at Jamaica, found himself under the necessity of aAvaitiug the 
 tedious anival of reinforcements from England, or of undertaking 
 the expedition with the very inadequate means at his disposal. 
 Listening rather to the suggestions of his gallantry than his pra- 
 
 * This second chapter, was published in Blackwood for March 1818. — Odo- 
 herty's biographer is rather wrong in speaking of New Orleans as " a fortress" 
 to be besieged. General Jackson adroitly made his lines impregnable^ by 
 means of bold coui'age, riflemen, and cotton-bog defences. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 15 
 
 dence, he tlecicletl on the hitter. If he erred in undertaking the 
 expedition, it must be owned that he disphiyed the most con- 
 summate skill in the conduct of it. 
 
 On his arrival at New Orleans, he established himself imme- 
 diately on the peninsula guarded by the fortress, and so vigor- 
 ously did he. push his operations, that on the third night he de- 
 termined on giving the assault. The honor of heading the 
 storming party was allotted to the 44th regiment, then under 
 the command of the Honorable Lieutenant-Colonel Mullins, son 
 to Lord Ventry, patron to our hero's father, and who did not at 
 all congratulate himself, however, on his good fortune. The 
 44th regiment were driven back at the commencemeiit of the 
 attack ; and on Sir Edward Pakenham's inquiring for the com- 
 manding ofilcer, it was discovered that both he and Ensign Odo- 
 herty had remained in the rear. On search being made for 
 them, Colonel Mullms was discovered under an ammunition 
 wagon, and Ensign Odoherty was found in his tent, apparently 
 very busy searching for his snuff-box, the loss of which, he sol- 
 emnly declared, was the sole reason of his absence.* 
 
 In consequence of these circumstances. Colonel Mullins was 
 brought to a court-martial, and dismissed the service ; and such, 
 most probably, would likewise have been the fate of Ensign 
 Odoherty, had he not, by the most humble intercessions, pre- 
 
 * Lieutenant Colonel Mullins actually was in command of the 44th reg^iment 
 of foot in the last American war. In the attack near Baltimore, September 12, 
 1814 (at which Major-General Ross was killed), Mullins commanded part of 
 the right brigade, and was thanked, by Colonel Brooke, in his despatches " for 
 the excellent order in which he led while charging the enemy in line." 
 When the British attack was made on the lines of New Orleans, on the morn- 
 ing of the 8th of January, 1815, the 44th infantry were four hundred and 
 twenty-seven strong. Mr. James Stuart (in a correspondence arising out of 
 statements in his "Three years in North America") expressly states that the 
 44th regiment, "to whom was assigned the duty of being ready with scaling 
 ladders and fascines, were not found at the appointed place," and that " a 
 field officer was brought to trial on account of that mismanagement which it 
 is said, most of all contributed to the deplorable result." — The defence was 
 that tlie 44th were a mile and half in advance of the redoubt where lay the 
 ladders and fascines, and that the Colonel's mistake was in not having brought 
 them with him from the redoubt to the spot where he was ready, at the head 
 of his regiment, like the rest, to advance to th(3 attack, at the ascent of the 
 signal rocket. This, if true, acquits Mullins of cowardice. — M.
 
 16 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 vailed on the officers of the regiment to suppress their charges, 
 on condition that he rid them of his presence, by an immediate 
 exchange into another regiment. I am far from wishing to jus- 
 tify the line of conduct adopted in this instance by Mr. Odoherty, 
 in yielding to the prejudices against his character which the offi- 
 cers of the regiment appear so gratuitously to have entertained. 
 Knowing him, as I do, to have been as brave a man as ever 
 pushed a bayonet to the throat of an enemy, I can not but sin- 
 cerely regret that any change of circumstances should have oc- 
 curred to give a different complexion to his character in the 
 opinion of the world. But such regrets are useless. Who, 
 when gazing on the brightness of the sun, can suppose his efful- 
 gence to be diminished, because, when viewed through a tele- 
 scope, a few trifling spots are discernible on his disk ! 
 
 Having entered into this arrangement, in order to effect his 
 exchange, Mr. Odoherty took advantage of the sailing of the 
 first ship to return to England, and accordingly embarked in the 
 Beelzebub transport for that purpose. On then- voyage home 
 they encountered a severe storm when off the river Chesapeake, 
 which broke the bobstay of the Beelzebub, and did considerable 
 injury to her mainmast. To crown the misfortunes of this un- 
 lucky voyage, they were captured by the American frigate Pres- 
 ident, in latitude 35° 40', longitude 27^ 14', and carried into 
 Boston as prisoners-of-war. Mr. Odoherty bore his misfortunes 
 with the greatest philosophy and calmness ; and as a proof of 
 the happy equanimity of his temper, I give the following extract 
 from an extempore address to a whale, seen off Long Island on 
 the 14th June, 1814:—* 
 
 Great king of the ocean, transcendent and grand 
 
 Dost thou rest 'mid the waters so blue ; 
 So vast is thy foi-m, I atn sure, on dry land, 
 
 It would cover an acre or two. 
 
 Thou watery Colossus, how lovely the sight, 
 When thou sailest majestic and slow, 
 
 * Considering that (as previously stated) Odoherty did not leave England 
 until August, 1814, thei-e appears a slight anachronism in making him sec a 
 whale off Long Island, on the preceding June. This is a poetic annihilation 
 of "time and space," with a vengeance. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 17 
 
 And the sliy and the ocean tog-other unite 
 Thuir splendor around thee to throw. 
 
 Or near to the pole, 'mid the elements' strife, 
 
 Where the tempest the seaman appals, 
 Unmoved, like a Continent pregnant with life, 
 
 Or rather a living St. Paul's. 
 
 Thee soon as the Greenlander fisherman sees, 
 
 He plans thy destruction, odd rot him; 
 And often, before thou hast time to cry pease, 
 
 He has whipped his harpoon in thy bottom. 
 
 Here unfortixnately a hiatus occurs, which, I am sure, will be 
 regretted by every lover of what is sublime in conception, grand 
 in description, and beautiful in imagination. Odoherty is not the 
 only author of high genius whose vivacity exceeded his perse- 
 verence. We may say of him what Voltaire said of Lord Bacon : 
 " Ce grand Jiomme a commence heaucoup de cJioses que fersonne 
 ne peut jamais achevery 
 
 On his arrival at Boston, he received orders to proceed to 
 Philadelphia, the station allotted for his residence by the Amer- 
 ican government. In this great city, the manly graces of his 
 person, and the seductive elegance of his manners, gained him 
 the notice and attention of all ranks. But, notwithstanding the 
 kindness and hospitality which he expeidenced from his Ameri- 
 can friends, his pecuniary circumstances were by no means in 
 the most flourishing condition. He found, to his astonishment, 
 that American merchants, however kind and liberal in other re- 
 spects, had a strange prejudice against discounting Irish bills ; 
 nor could any ofPers, however liberal, of an extraordinary per- 
 centage, reconcile their minds to the imaginary risk of the trans- 
 action. Under these circumstances, Mr. Odoherty was obliged 
 to confine his expenses to his pay, a small part of which was 
 advanced to him, with much liberality, by the British agent for 
 prisoners-of-war in that city, to whose kindness he was, on sev- 
 eral occasions, much indebted. 
 
 It was in Philadelphia that Ensign Odoherty had the misfor- 
 tune to form a connection with a lady of the name of M'Whirter, 
 wl kept a well-known tavern and smoking-shop. Her hus- 
 band had taken an active part in the rebellion of 1798 in Ireland, 
 of which countiy he was a native, and had found it prudent to
 
 18 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 escape the consequences of his conduct by a flight to America. 
 He accordingly repaired to Philadelphia, where he opened the 
 " Goat in Armor" tavern and- hotel, and soon after married a 
 female emigree from the Emerald Isle, an act which, I believe, 
 he had only once occasion to repent. He died in a fcAv years, 
 and the " Goat in Armor" lost none of its reputation under the 
 management of his widow. 
 
 In this house did Mr. Odoherty take up his residence on his 
 arrival at Philadelphia ; and it is almost needless to add, he soon 
 made a complete conquest of the too susceptible heart of Mrs. 
 M'Whirter. In the present difficulty of his pecuniary affairs, 
 this circumstance afforded him too many advantages to be neg- 
 lected or overlooked. Disgusting as she was in her person, 
 vulgar in her manners, weak in her understanding, and unsuita- 
 ble in years, he determined on espousing her. He accordingly 
 made his proposals in form, and Mrs. M'Whirter was too much 
 flattered with the idea of becoming an ensign's lady, not to 
 swallow the bait with avidity. 
 
 They were privately married,* and continued to live together 
 with tolerable harmony, until the peace of 1815 restored Mr. 
 (Jdoherfcy once more to liberty. He was now heartily sick of 
 the faded charms and uncultivated rudeness of his new wife, and 
 accordingly determined once more to pursue the current of his 
 fortune in another hemisphere. He accordingly possessed him- 
 self of as much ready money as he could conveniently lay his 
 hands upon, and secretly embarked on board a ship, then on the 
 point of sailing for England. The astonishment, rage, and grief, 
 of his wife, at the discovery of his flight, may be more easily 
 conceived than described. She has indeed embodied them all 
 with the greatest fidelity, in an address to her husband, which, 
 I have reason to beheve, she composed immediately after his 
 elopement. I shall only give the first verse, which possesses 
 certainly much energy, if not elegance : — 
 
 * It will subsequently appear that this union was only a mariage temporaire 
 — such as soldiers and sailors have the reputation of entering into at all places 
 where they have more than three weeks' residence. It will be seen, by and by, 
 that Mrs. M'Whirter was by no means the low, vulgar, and weak-minded woman 
 here represented. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 19 
 
 " Confusion seize your lowsy sowl, ye nasty dirty varment, 
 Ye goi'S your ways, and leaves me here without the least preferment; 
 When you've drunk my gin, and robbed my till, nnd stolen all my pelf, ye 
 Sail away, and think no more on your wife at Philadelphy." 
 
 I shall certainly not presume to ofifer the delicate and refined 
 reader any further specimen of this coarse and vulgar, but surely 
 pathetic and feeling poem. Gray's " Bard" has been often and 
 justly admired for the beautiful and unexpected abruptness of 
 the opening stanza, the sudden vehemence of passion in which 
 strange curses are imprecated on the head of the devoted mon- 
 arch. It begins with the beautiful line, 
 
 "Ruin seize thee, ruthless king;;" 
 
 but how inferior is this to the commencement of Mrs. Odoherty's 
 poem, which I have just extracted. How emphatically it ad- 
 dresses itself to our feelings ! How dreadful the curse which it 
 invokes ! 
 
 "Confusion seize your lowsy sowl !" 
 
 The blood runs cold at the monstrous imprecation-^ we feel 
 an involuntary shuddering, such as comes on us when poring 
 over the infernal cauldron of Macbeth, and listening to unearth- 
 ly and hellish conjurations. Such are the proudest triumphs of 
 the poet ! 
 
 Mr. Odoherty arrived in England after a short and prosper- 
 ous passage. The following piece was composed on sailing past 
 Cape Trafalgar in the night. I mistake if it does not exhibit 
 the strongest traces of powerful and wild imagination, and only 
 leaves room to regret that, like most of his poetical effusions, it 
 is unfinished. It reminds us of some of the best parts of John 
 Wilson's Isle of Palms : — 
 
 Have you sailed on the breast of the deep. 
 
 When the winds had all silenced their breath, 
 
 And the waters were hushed in as holy a sleep, 
 
 And as calm, as the slumber of death. 
 
 When the yellow moon beaming on high. 
 
 Shone tranquilly bright on the wave, 
 
 And careered through the vast and impalpable sky, 
 
 Till she found in the ocean a grave. 
 
 And dying away by degrees on the sight. 
 
 The waters were clad in the mantle of night.
 
 20 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 'Twoulcl impart a delight to tliy soul, 
 
 As I felt it imparted to mine, 
 
 And the draught of affliction that blackened my bowl 
 
 Grew bright as the silvery brine. 
 
 I carelessly lay on the deck, 
 
 And listened in silence to catch 
 
 The wonderful stories of battle or wreck 
 
 That were told by the men of the watch. 
 
 Sad stories of demons most deadly that be, 
 
 And of mermaids that rose fi-om the depths of the sea. 
 
 Strange visions my fancy had filled-, 
 
 I was wet with the dews of the night ; 
 
 And I thought that the moon still continued to gild 
 
 The wave with a silvery light. 
 
 I sunk by degrees into sleep, 
 
 I thought of my friends who were far, 
 
 When a foi-m seemed to glide o'er the face of the deep, 
 
 As bright as the evening star, 
 
 Ne'er rose there a spirit more lovely and fair, 
 
 Yet I trembled to think that a spirit was there. 
 
 Emerald green was her hair, 
 
 Braided with gems of the sea, 
 
 Her arm, like a meteor, she waved in the air, 
 
 And I knew that she beckoned on me. 
 
 She glanced upon me with her eyes. 
 
 How ineffably bright was their blaze; 
 
 I shrunk and I trembled with fear and surprise, 
 
 Yet still I continued to gaze ; 
 
 But enchantingly sweet was the smile of her lip, 
 
 And I followed the vision and sj)rang from the ship. 
 
 'Mid the waves of the ocean I fell. 
 
 The dolphins were sporting around, 
 
 And many a triton was tuning the shell, 
 
 And extatic and wild wos the sound; 
 
 There were thousands of fathoms above, 
 
 And thousands of fathoms below ; 
 
 And we sunk to the caves where the sea lions rove, 
 
 And the topaz and emerald glow, 
 
 Where the diamond and sapphire eternally shed, 
 
 Their lustre around on the bones of the dead. 
 
 And well might their lustre be bright. 
 For they shone on the limbs of the brave. 
 Of those who had fought in the terrible fight. 
 And were buried at last in the wave.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 21 
 
 In grottoes of coral they slept, 
 
 On white beds of pearl nround ; 
 
 And near them for ever the water snake crept, 
 
 And the sea lion guarded the ground. 
 
 While the dirge of the heroes by spirits was rung. 
 
 And solemn and wild were the strains that they sung. 
 
 Dirge. 
 Sweet is the slumber the mariners sleep. 
 Their bones are laid in the caves of the deep. 
 Far over their heads the tempests sweep, 
 That ne'er shall wake them more ; 
 They died when raved the bloody fight, 
 And Ipud was the cannon's roar ; 
 Their death was dark, their glory bright, 
 And they sunk to rise no more, 
 They sunk to rise no more. 
 But the loud wind {jast. 
 When they breathed their last, 
 And it carried their dying sigh 
 In a winding-sheet. 
 With a shot at their feet, 
 In coral caves they lie, 
 In coral caves they lie. 
 
 Or where the syren of the rocks 
 
 Lovely waves her sea-green locks, 
 
 Where the deadly breakers foam, 
 
 Found they an eternal home. 
 
 Horrid and long were the struggles of death, 
 
 Black was the night when they yielded their breath, 
 
 But not on the ocean, all buoyant and bloated, 
 
 The sport of the waters their white bodies floated, 
 
 For they were home to coral caves. 
 
 Distant far beneath the waves. 
 
 And there on beds of pearl ihey sleep. 
 
 And far over their heads the tempests sweep. 
 
 That ne'er shall wake them more. 
 
 That ne'er shall wake them more. 
 
 On his arrival in England, he repaired immediately to London, 
 and effected an exchange into the 99th, or King's Own Tipper- 
 ary regiment, and set off immediately to join the depot then 
 stationed in the Isle of Wight. In order to cover the reason of 
 his leaving his former regiment, and to j)revent the true cause 
 of his exchange from becoming publicly known, he addressed
 
 22 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the following stanzas to the officers of the 44th regiment, and 
 took care to have them inserted in all the newspapers, with the 
 signature of Morgan Odoherty. They are as follows : — 
 
 Come, push round the bottle; one glass ere we part 
 Must in sadness go round to the friends of my heart, 
 With whom many a bright hour of joy has gone by. 
 Whom with pleasure I met, whom I leave with a sigh. 
 
 Yes, the hours have gone by ; like a bright sunny gleam, 
 In the dark sky of winter, they fled like a dream; 
 Yet when years shall have cast their dim shadows between, 
 I shall fondly remember the days that have been. 
 
 Come, push round the bottle ; for ne'er shall the chain 
 That has bound us together be broken in twain, 
 And I'll drink, wheresoever my lot may be cast. 
 To the fi-iends that I love, and the days that are past, 
 
 This nise de guerre had the desired effect ; for nobody could pos- 
 sibly suspect that the author of this sentimental and very feeling 
 address had just been kicked out of the regiment by these very 
 dear friends whom he thus pathetically lauds. Soon after his 
 arrival at the depot of the 99th regiment, he was ordered to 
 proceed on the recniiting service to Scotland, and arrived in 
 Edinburgh in the summer of 1815. 
 
 Here new and unexpected honors awaited him. He had 
 hitherto been a stranger to literary distinctions, and notwith- 
 standing his writing in the different periodical publications at- 
 tracted much of the public admiration, he had hitherto remained, 
 in the more extended signification, of the word, absolutely unno- 
 ticed. This, however, was at length to cease ; and though Mr. 
 Odoherty Avas by birth an Irishman (to the shame of that coun- 
 try be it spoken), it was Scotland which first learned to appre- 
 ciate and reward his merit. 
 
 Soon after his arrival at this metropolis, he was voted a mem- 
 ber of the " Select Society."* Here he distinguished himself by 
 
 * The " Select" was a debating society in Scotland, much patronized by 
 lawyers' clerks and gentlemen of the counter, who are a very argument- 
 ative people. In 1819, according to Peter's letters to his Kinsfolk (Lock- 
 hart's three-volume satire) besides The Speculative, of which Scott and Jeffrey 
 had once been members, there were the following debating societies in Edia- 
 burgh — the Didactic, the Polemical, the Philomatic, the Dialectic, the Phila- 
 thctic, the Select, the Select Forensic, and the Pantiseptral. The aflfectation
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 23 
 
 liis eloquence in a very eminent degree ; and as the gentlemen 
 of this society seemed to pride themselves more on the quantity 
 than the quality of their orations, and seemed to meet with much 
 greater success in the multiplication of their words than in the 
 nniltiplication of their ideas to correspond with them, Mr. Odo- 
 herty, from his natural volubility, soon succeeded in casting his 
 rivals in the shade. In particidar I am told he made a speech 
 of four hours and a half, on the very new and interesting ques- 
 tion of, Whether Brutus was jaistified in the assassination of 
 Oa?sar, which was carried in the affirmative by a majority of 
 one, and may therefore be considered as being finally settled. 
 He likewise made a long speech on the question of the propriety 
 of early marriages, and clearly established, in a most pathetic 
 and luminous oration, that Queen Elizabeth was by no means 
 justified in the execution of Mary. It was impossible that 
 these elaborate displays of the most extraordinary talent could 
 long remain unnoticed. 
 
 In consequence of his giving a most clear and scientific de- 
 scription of a Roman frying-pan, found in the middle of a bog 
 in the county of Kilkenny, he was immediately elected a mem- 
 ber of the society of Scottish antiquaries, and read at their 
 meetings several very interesting papers which were received 
 by his brother antiquaries with the most grateful attention.* 
 
 of pedantic titles is not confined to Edinburgh. In the Now York Tribune, of 
 March 18, 1854, it is noticed and reproved in the following paragraph: — " We 
 have received a report of certain proceedings in the Kalokaigathian Society 
 of the University of Northern Pennsylvania, with a request that they should be 
 published. The proceedings themselves are commendable, but the name of 
 the society is not, and we must accordingly decline printing the report. Why 
 should an innocent, and we trust even useful, literary association of respectable 
 young Americans be loaded with an outlandish and old-fangled title like tliat 1 
 It is time that the boys were ashamed of Greek and Latin affections, to say the 
 least." Probably youth cherishes an innate love for high-sounding words, just as 
 colroed people are fond of bestowing polysyllabic names upon their children. 
 Captain Marryat has an amusing anecdote, in one of his novels, of being asked 
 by a black mother, in the West Indies, to give a grand name to her newly-boni 
 piccaninny. He delighted her, beyond measure, and infused envy into other 
 maternal bosoms, by suggesting Chrononhotonthologos. After a little time, 
 however, this sisquipedelian name, which baffled all nigger attempts to pro- 
 nounce, settled down into the diminutive, Chronny I — M. 
 
 * The A. S. S. (or Antiquarian Society of Scotland) continues to (Icur'sh, and
 
 24 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 He was likewise proposed a -member of tlie Royal Society, and 
 unfortunately black-balled. Candor induces me to state, for the 
 credit of tliat learned body, tbat tbis rejection was not under- 
 stood to proceed on the personal unfitness of Mr. Odoberty for 
 the proposed honor, but was simply owing to the circumstances 
 of several Irish members who had been recently chosen having 
 bilked the Society of their fees, which made them unwiUing to 
 add to their number.* To make amends for this disappoint- 
 ment, the same week in which it occurred he was proposed in 
 the Society of Dilettanti, and admitted by acclamation into 
 that enlightened body.t The evenings which he spent at their 
 
 occasionally to publish old documents in which the bad spelling of depar. 
 and ignorant years is so scrupulously adhered to that few, even of the members, 
 can do more than guess at the meaning. When Mr. Tytler produced his " His- 
 toid of Scotland" (unquestionably the best yet written), the A. S. S. violently de- 
 nounced it and him, because, in quoting old documents, manuscript or printed, 
 he used the spelling of the present day, so that hi»toi7 should be not a sealed 
 volume, but a living letter, to the public. The rust of age, however it defaces 
 the coin, is what the Scottish Antiquarians prize above the coin itself — M. 
 
 * Until the resignation of its president, Sir James Hall, of Dunglass, (father 
 of Captain Basil Hall, the aulhor), the Royal Society of Edinburgh, which con- 
 tinues to flourish, had invariably elected a man of sersTce for its head. Hall 
 rcsio-ned in November, 1819, and Walter Scott, yielding to the strong and 
 unanimous request of the body, consented to become its President. " His gen- 
 tle skill was found effective," says Lockhart, " as long as he held the Chair, 
 in maintaining and strengthening the tone of good feeling and good manners 
 which alone can render the meetings of such a society either agreeable or use- 
 ful." The Royal Society possesses a half-length portrait of Scott, painted in 
 1829, by Mr. John Graham, Scottish artist. — M. 
 
 t Lockhart mentions the very Abitri Elegantiarum, or Dilettanti Society, a.s 
 holding their meetings [at Young's Tavern] " in one of the filthiest closes in 
 the city of Edinburgh, braving with heroic courage, the risk of an impure bap- 
 tism from the neighboring windows, at their entrance and exit, and drinking 
 the memory of Michael Angelo, or Raphael, or Phidias, or Milton, in libations 
 of whiskey-punch," and considers that the coarseness of such habits and pro- 
 pensities appears "utterly inconsistent with that delicacy of taste in other mut- 
 ters to which they make pretensions." — This was in 1819. Much of the 
 implied censure was unmerited ; for, as we happily learn from a poem called 
 " The Mad Banker of Amsterdam," written under the soubriquet of William 
 Wastle, of that Ilk, some of the most eminent men in Edinburgh were in fel- 
 lowship in the Dilettanti. The principal member of the Dilettanti was David 
 Bridges, who kept a clothier's shop in the High Street of Edinburgh. This 
 place, and its occupant, are thus graphically described by Lockhart : — "On
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 26 
 
 meetings, iu Young's Tavern, Higli street, were often mentioned 
 by him as among the most radiant oases in the desert of his ex- 
 entering, one finds a very neat and tasteful-looking shop, well stocked with all 
 the tempting diversities of broadcloth and bombazines, silk stockings, and 
 spotted handkerchiefs. * * » After waiting a few minutes, the younger 
 partner lips a sly wink across the counter, and beckons you to follow him 
 through a narrow cut in its mahogany suiface, into the unseen recesses of the 
 establishment. A few steps dovynwai'd, and in the dark, land you in a sort 
 of cellar below the shop proper, and here by the dim and religious light which 
 enters through one or two well-gi'ated peeping-holes, your eyes soon discover 
 enough of the fumitui-e of the place to satisfy you, that you have at last reached 
 the Sanctum Sanctorum of the Fine Arts. Plaster of Paris casts of the Head 
 of Farnese Hercules — the Dancing Fawn — the Laocoon — and the Herma- 
 phrodite, occupy conspicuous stations on the counter; one large table is en- 
 tirely covered with a book of Canova's designs. Turner's Liber Studiorum, 
 and such sort of manuals ; and in those cornprs where the little light there is 
 streams brightest, are placed, upon huge piles of corduroy and kerseymere, 
 various wooden boxes, black, brown, and blue, wherein are locked up from all 
 eyes, save those of the privileged and initiated frequenters of the scene, vari- 
 ous pictures and sketches, chiefly by hiring artists, and presents to the proprietor, 
 Mr. Bridges, when I asked him, on my first visit, what might be the contents of 
 those mystci'ious receptacles, made answer in a true technico-Caledonian strain — 
 ' Oh, Dr. Morris, they're just a wheen bits — and,' (added he, with a most know- 
 ing compression of the lips,) — 'let me tell you what, Dr. Morris, there's some 
 no that ill bits amang them neither.' " — Bridges was secretary of the Dilettanti 
 Society. John Wilson (Christopher North) was president. Among the mem- 
 bers were Allan, the painter ; John Gil)son Lockharf, Doctor Schetky, a very 
 clever amateur landscape-painter; Nicholson, a subject-artist, and then one 
 of the best miniature-painters in Scotland; Baxter, another artist; Patrick 
 Robertson, then commencing that course as a lawyer, which now (18.54) he is 
 finishing as a Scottish judge; Peter Hill, a well-known bookseller; and John 
 Douglas, a lawyer; all of whom are hit off, or hit at, in William Wastle's 
 already-mentioned poem. — Ex. : gr. : 
 
 They're pleased to call themselves 2Ct)e ©ilcttatlti : 
 The President's the first I chanced to show 'em ; 
 
 He writes more malagrugrously than Dante, 
 The City of the Plague's a shocking poem ; 
 
 But yet he is a spirit light and jaunty. 
 
 And jocular enough to those that know liixii. 
 
 To tell the truth, I think John Wilson shiiics 
 
 More o'er a bowl of punch than in his lines. 
 
 Wilson discussed, the tenor of my speech 
 On to his Croujiier-Secretary ran, 
 
 A person thoroughly qualified to teach 
 The lingo of the V'irtuoso clan. 
 Vol.. \.— 2
 
 26 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 istence. He composed a beautiful ode to tlie keeper of the tav- 
 ern where they assemble, of which we can not at present quote 
 more than the three opening stanzas : 
 
 Let Dandies to M'CuUoch go, 
 
 And Ministers to Fortune's hall ; 
 
 For Indians Oman's claret flow, 
 
 In John M'Phails let lawyers ci'ow, 
 
 Pictures and prints alike within his reach. 
 
 — He is, in short, a most uncommon miin ; 
 The Painters view him with a fearful eye ; 
 For me, I'm always mute when David's by. 
 The next that I enlarged upon was Allan, 
 
 That peerless master of the modern brush, 
 Born to restore a Muse from splendor fallen. 
 
 Born to SCO garlands of the Deathless Bush 
 (In spite of Envy's poisonous tendrils crawling) 
 
 Cling round his honored brow in glory's flush ; 
 A famous fellow also o'er his toddy, 
 And, bating Artists, liked by everybody. 
 Then touched I off' friend Lockhart (Gibson John), 
 
 So fond of jabbering about Tieck and Schlegel, 
 Klopstock and Wieland, Kant and Mendelsohn, 
 
 All High Dutch quacks, like Spurzheim or Feinagle. — 
 Him the Chaldee ycleped the Scoi-pion. — 
 
 The claws, but not the pinions, of the eagle, 
 Are Jack's : but though I do not mean to flatter, 
 Undoubtedly he has strong powers of satire. 
 
 Par nobile, the Schetkys next I hit, 
 
 — Gibson (who t'other day had changed his h)i ;) 
 The Master of St. Luke's, whom yonder Pit 
 
 With long vivas heard comic Liston quote. 
 Then Nicholson, to whom so oft I sit: 
 
 You've seen his etching, sure, of Walter Scott. 
 — Some half-a-dozen others I could name ; 
 Among the rest was Baxter — yes — hii-meme. 
 
 My tongue next glided to the praise of Pat, 
 Who loves not Robertson in Embro' city ? 
 
 Dutch girls would call him Cupid, for he's fat, 
 Wears spectacles, is sly, and keen, and wilty. 
 
 Next Peter Hill — you might be sure of that. 
 
 Next one, whom if you know not, moro's the pity — 
 
 John Douglas — one of the true genuine tribe — 
 
 Mistake me not — our gentlemanly Scribe.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 27 
 
 These places seem to me so so, 
 I love Bill Young's above them all. 
 
 One only rival, honest Bill, 
 Hast thou in Morgan's whim ; 
 I mean Ben Waters, charming Ben, 
 Simplest and stupidest of men ; 
 I take a tankard now and then, 
 And smoke a pipe with him. 
 
 Dear Ben ! dear Bill .' I love you both. 
 Between you oft my fancy wavers ; 
 Thou, Bill, excell'st in sheepshead broth ; 
 Thy porter-mugs are crowned with froih ; 
 At Young's I listen, nothing loth, 
 To my dear Dilettanti shavei's. 
 O scene of merriment and havers. 
 Of good rum-punch, and puns, and chivcrs, 
 And warbling sweet Elysian quavers ! — 
 Who loves not Youncr's must be a Goth.* 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Odoherty's Acquaintance with and Stanzns to Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd — 
 Hogg's Lines to Odoherty — Allan, the Painter — "The Young Man of the 
 West" — Elegy written in a Ball-room — New Version of "Young's Night 
 Thoughts" — Lord Byron's Pathetic Invocation of " Sublime Tobacco," a 
 Plagiarism from Odoherty. 
 
 The Ode to Messrs. Young and Waters, witli part of wliicli 
 we closed our last chapter of Mr. Odolierty's life,t has a merit 
 
 * M'Culloch, Fortune, Oman, M'Phail, Young, and Waters were respectively 
 keepers of hotels and taverns in Edinburgh, in 1818. — M. 
 
 t This third chapter was published in Blackwood' s Magazine, April 1818. 
 — Part of it, I am persuaded, was interpolated in Edinburgh, because 
 Maginn did not visit that city until 1821, and, therefore, could not have ha**) 
 the requisite local and personal knowledge with which the poems are imliued. 
 Yet, some years later, in his famous " Maxims of Odoherty," certainly written 
 by Magiim, the concluding stanzas on tobacco, as a 
 
 " Divine invention of the age of Bess," 
 are especially and complacently alluded to as his own. — Mr. Gilh'es, in his 
 "Memoirs of a Literary Veteran," states that the life of Odoherty was 
 written by the late Captain Hamilton and was the first literary i-oniposilioii
 
 28 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 whicli is far from being common among modern lyrics — it ex- 
 presses the habitual feelings of the author. The composer of 
 an ode, in these times, is usually obliged to throw himself out 
 of his own person, into that of some individual placed in a situa- 
 tion more picturesque than has fallen to his own share — he is 
 obliged to dismiss all recollection of his own papered parlor and 
 writing-desk, and to imagine himself, pro tempore, a burning In- 
 dian, a dying soldier, or a love-sick young lady, as it may hap- 
 pen. He thus loses that intense air of personal emotion, Avliich 
 forms the principal charm in the stern heroics of Pindar, the ele- 
 gant drinking songs of Horace, the gay chansons oi Deshoulieres, 
 and the luxurious erotics of Tom Moore.* Odoherty wrote of 
 
 of one who subsequently obtained reputation by his " Youth and Manhood of 
 Cyril Thornton," as a liistoiian of the Peninsular Wai-, and by his strange work, 
 " Men and Manners in America." Without doubt, Hamilton could not have 
 written the earlier poition of Odoherty's life in which there are so many allusions 
 to Irish people. I believe that Maginn actually did write the greater part 
 of Chapters III. and IV., and that the local hits were introduced by Hamilton 
 and others. — Chapter IV., which did not appear until December, 1818, came 
 out with a mystification in the foi-m of an editorial note, as follows: — "The 
 gentleman who drew up the two first notices of this life, having died of an 
 apoplexy some time ago, the notice which appeared in March [Aiwil?], and 
 the present one, are by a different hand." Yet, Chapter IV. was unquestion- 
 ably written by Maginn ! In Blackwood'' s notices to correspondents, in the 
 number for April, 1818 (that in which Chapter III. appeared), the following 
 was to be found, 'Memoirs of Roderic Milesius O'Donoghue, late of Tralee, 
 county Kerry, Ireland, first cousin to Ensign and Adjutant Morgan Odoherty,' 
 are received, and will follow the life of his illustrious kinsman, which we hope 
 to conclude in a few more Numbers." This was one of Maginn's promises ; — 
 his intention was to write an autobiography of an Irish gentleman, and a vei-y 
 curious composition it would have been, had he seriously proceeded with it. 
 But not a line of it was ever published — nor, perhaps, ever written. — M. 
 
 * It is scarcely necessary to do more than refer to three out of the four here- 
 named. Pindar, the most famous lyric poet of Greece, was bom about 540 
 B.C., and died in his 55th year. When the Lacedaemonians took Thebes, in 
 BoBotia (of which he was a native), they spared the house of the poet, as also 
 did Alexander the Great. — Horace, eminently the most elegant of all the Ro- 
 man poets (such as we may fancy might be the result of a fusion of Pope and 
 Moore, whereby philosophy, satire, and gaiety would be combined in one per- 
 son), achieved a living popularily which Time has confirmed. He was bom 
 65 B.C., and died in the year of Rome, 756, and 9 B.C., aged 56. — Moore, 
 the poet of Ireland, tnily designated by Shelley, as 
 
 " The sweetest lyrist of her saddest song,"
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 29 
 
 Young and Waters in his own person — the feelings which he 
 has embodied in verse, are the daily, or rather nightly, visitants 
 of his own bosom. If truth and nature form the chief excel- 
 lence of poetry, our hero may take his place among the most 
 favored children of the muse. 
 
 Those taverns were, however, far from being the scenes of 
 mere merriment and punch-drinking. The bowl was seasoned 
 with the conversation of associates, of whom it is sufficient to 
 say, that they were indeed worthy to sit at the board with En- 
 sign and Adjutant Odoherty. The writer of this has no per- 
 sonal knowledge of these distinguished persons, but from the 
 letters and poems of the Ensign's, composed durmg his stay in 
 Edinburgh, it is evident, that those upon whom he set most 
 value, were the following gentlemen : James Hogg, Esq., the 
 celebrated author of " The Queen's Wake," "Pilgrims of the 
 Sun," "Mador of the Moor," and other well-known poems.* 
 
 was born in Dublin, on tbe 28th May, 1779 (us he states in the fragment of his 
 Autobiography), and died at Sloperton Cottage, Wiltshire, England, on Feb. 
 26, 1852. — Beranger is, perhajis, the only modern song-writer, who can be 
 named as a worthy rival. But the chansons of the French poets are rather to 
 be read than sung, whereas Moore's are imbued with the tnie melody and sen- 
 timent of music. — Antoinette du Ligier Deshoulieres, a very versatile writer, 
 and a handsome, accomplished, and witty woman, wfis born at Fai-is, in 1634; 
 married a gentleman of family, and was on terms of friendship with the prin- 
 ciiml literati of the age. She produced numerous plays and operas — few of 
 which were successful. Her Idyls, Eclogues, and Moral Reflections were 
 more fortunate, and are still admired. She died, after twelve years of sufFer- 
 ing, from a cancer in her breast, in 1694. It seems somewhat out of place 
 to name Deshoulieres in the same sentence with Horace and Moore, as she was 
 a more didactic and less sportive writer than either. — M. 
 
 * Beyond all doubt, James Hogg, commonly called " The Ettrick Sheplierd," 
 was as remarkable a literaiy phenomenon as ever lived. He has been com- 
 pared with Burns, — but the latter had received the ordinary education of a 
 Scottish peasant, could read and write correctly, besides having some knowl- 
 edge of French; whereas, Hogg never received more than half a year's 
 schooling, and that before he was seven years' old. Hogg was born on the 
 25th of January, 1772 — the anniversary also of the natal day of Burns. HU 
 birth-place was an humble cottage on the banks of the small river Ettrick (a 
 tributary of the Tweed), in one of the pleasant and secluded valleys in Selkirk- 
 shire, the most picturesque and mountainous district in the south of Scotland. 
 His forefathers had been shepherds for many generations, and in this occupa- 
 tion James Hogg and his three brothers were brought up. Like nearly all
 
 30 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Of this great man Odolierty always wrote with rapture — take 
 tlie following specimen : — 
 
 men who have eminently distinguished themselves, he had the advantage. of 
 having had a mother of more than ordinary intellect. Her memory was filled with 
 traditionary song, and particularly with the old Border ballads, which she loved 
 to repeat to her cliildren — in a manner between chant and song — after her 
 daily perusal, to them, of such portions of the Bible as she believed most likely 
 to interest their minds and elevate their moral feelings. After a few months' 
 attendance at school, Hogg was sent out into the world at the age of seven 
 years, as an humble attendant on a few cows belonging to a neighboring far- 
 mer. In the winter months, when this occupation was intermitted, he tried to 
 teach himself writing — but did not get beyond scrawling in a rude text-hand. 
 To the last, even after practice had improved it, his caligraphy was imperfect 
 and indecisive. Advancing in years, he became a shepherd, and was a careful 
 and trustworthy one. At fourteen, when he had saved five shillings out of his 
 wages, he bought an old violin, and taught himself to play. Next, he began 
 to write verses — his mother encouraging his bias in that direction, and being 
 the critic on his songs. Except the Bible, the life of Sir William Wallace, 
 and Allan Ramsay's Gentle Shepherd, he had read nothing before his eighteenth 
 yeai', when he became shepherd to Mr. Laidlaw, a Selkirkshire famier, who 
 allowed him the use of his library, which was rather extensive. He remained 
 with Mr. Laidlaw from 1790 to 1800, and became' a writer of songs about 
 1796 — the year of Burns's death. Then, and always, he used to compose and 
 correct in his mind before writing it down upon a slate. He had never even 
 heard of Burns, until a year after that poet's death, when Tarn O'Shanter was 
 repeated to him; — from that time the idea grew into his mind of trying to 
 become a poet. William Laidlaw, his employer's son, encouraged him in 
 writing poetry; and was himself eminently gifted, his beautiful lyric called 
 " Lucy's Flittin," being an especial favorite with Sir Walter Scott. It was 
 through Laidlaw that Scott's attention was drawn to Hogg. The result was a 
 determination to " prent a book," — his prose Essay on Sheep had previously 
 won the premium given by the Highland Society. Hogg printed a volume 
 of ballads — fome of which, and particularly the song called " Donald Mac- 
 Donald," became praised and popular. Introduced by Scott to Constable, the 
 eminent Edinburgh publisher, in 1801, "The Mountain Bard" appeared; 
 it consisted chiefly of pieces in the old ballad style, and though remarkable, 
 from such a rude shepherd as Hogg then was, gave little promise of the ex- 
 cellence he soon after attained. He realized £300 by his book, and with this 
 sum, which he considered immense, commenced sheep-farming, on his own 
 account. After wasting all his money, and some years, in this speculation, he 
 vainly attempted to resume his occupation as a shepherd — but his reputation 
 of being a poet and a ruined fanner operated so much against him that he 
 could not obtain employment. He was now (in 1810), over thirty-eight years 
 old, and has truly confessed that he "knew no more of human life or manners 
 than a child." Constable published another volume for him, called " The
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 31 
 
 While worldly mi'H thiough stupid yoars 
 
 Without emotion jog, 
 Devoid of passions, hopes, and fears, 
 
 As senseless as a log- — 
 
 Forest JVIinstre!," of which about a third was contributed by other writers. ' 
 This book yielded him no profit. In September, 1810, Hogg commenced a 
 sort of weekly periodical called " The Spy," which was given up at the end 
 of twelve months. In 1813, he produced his " Queen's Wake,' consisting of 
 a series of ballads, purporting to be sung for the amusement of the young Mai-y 
 Queen of Scots, on her arrival fi'om France at the ancient palace of Holyrood. 
 The ballads were sti-ung together in a poetic narrative, and the graceful purity 
 of its style has seldom been equalled. The most popular poem in the " Queen's 
 Wake," is that called " Kilmeny," a tale founded on the not uncommon Scot- 
 tish tradition of a child being stolen by the fairies ; — in artistical adaptation 
 of language to ideas, in the mixture of simplicity and pathos, in fullness of 
 melody and suitable management of the Doric dialect of Scotland, " Kilmeny" 
 must rank as the best production of Hogg. In a very short time the " Queen's 
 Wake" ran through three editions. On the failui-e of its publisher, it fell into 
 the hands of Mr. Blackwood, and when that gentleman commenced his cele- 
 brated magazine, Hogg became one of its earliest contributors, and continued 
 to write for it to the close of his life. The first draft of the famous Chaldee 
 Maiiuscript (in which Constable and his literary friends were so much satirized, 
 that it had to be withdrawn from the second and all future ed-'r'i. r of the sev- 
 enth number, from October, 1817,) was written by Hogg. His connection 
 with Blackwood' s Magazine introduced him to the friendship of Professor Wil- 
 son, Mr. Lockhart, and other literati of Edinburgh. Their repeated mention 
 of him, in the " Noctes Ambrosian^," (in which they frequently made him 
 an interlocutor,) unquestionably had great influence in winning celebrity for 
 him. In later years, he complained of the liberties which the wits of" Black- 
 wood" took with him, but he really was very proud of the association. Shortly 
 after the appearance of the " Queen's Wake," in 1814, the late Duke of Buc- 
 cleugh, fulfilling a desire of his late wife, and without any solicitation from the 
 poet, presented him with the life-occupancy, free from rent, of the farm of AI- 
 trive Lake, in the wilds of YaiTOW, which, as he gratefully says " gave me 
 once more a habitation among my native moors and streams, where each face 
 was that of a friend, and each house was a home, as well as residence for life 
 to my aged father." In 1820, Hogg married, and having made a thousand 
 pounds by his pen, took the farm of Mont-Benger, which adjoined his own, 
 stocked it, and after several years' straggles, found himself without a shilling 
 at the age of sixty. He continued to write, however, during and after his farm- 
 ing speculation. To name all his works would be to jmblish a long list. The 
 most remarkable were the rustic tales entitled "Three Perils of Man," and 
 "Three Perils of Woman," " Confessions of a Fanatic," " The Shepherd's Cal- 
 endar" (which originally appeared in Blackwood), " Tales of the Wars of Mon- 
 trose," " The Queer Book," and a great many short poems and stories contrib-
 
 32 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I much prefer my nights to spend, 
 
 A happy ranting dog, 
 And see dull care his front unbend 
 
 Before the smile of Hogg. 
 
 The life of man's a season drear, 
 
 Immersed in mist and fog, 
 Until the star of wit ajipeiir. 
 
 And set its clouds agog. 
 For me, I wish no brighter sky 
 
 Than o'er a jug of grog. 
 When fancy kindles in the eye, 
 
 The good gray eye of Hogg. 
 
 When Misery's car is at its speed, 
 
 The glowing wheels to cog ; 
 To make the heart where sorrows bleed . 
 
 Leap lightly like a frog ; 
 Gay verdure o'er the crag to shower. 
 
 And blossoms o'er the bog. 
 Wit's potent magic has the power, 
 
 When thou dost wield it, Hogg ! 
 
 In the escrltoir of the Ensign, liis executors found, among let- 
 ters from the first hterary characters of the day, many excellent 
 ones from Mr. Hogg ; and the following heautiful lines formed 
 the postscript to that one in which he returned thanks to our 
 poet for the above tribute to his own kindred genius : — 
 
 hone, Odoherty ! 
 I canua weel tell what is wrang ; 
 But oh, man, since you gaed frae me, 
 The days are unco dull and lang. 
 
 uted to annuals and magazines. In 1820, a long narrative poem called " Queen 
 Hynde," failed to win much attention, though it contained some of his best 
 ballads. In 1831, Hogg was induced, by the success of the popular edition of 
 ibe Waverley Novels, to re-issue the best of his own prose fictions in the new 
 and attractive form. To negotiate for this purpose, in the best market, he vis- 
 ited London, where his reception was in the manner of an ovation. Early in 
 1832, appeared the first volume of " The Altrive Tales," but the failure of his 
 publishers stopped the intended series. Soon after, he produced a volume of 
 " Lay SeiTnons." He published a cmiously characteristic life of Scott, which 
 Lockhart has emphatically denounced as untrue and ungrateful. At last, on 
 the 21st of November, 1835, aged sixty-three, he departed from this world. He 
 left a widow and five children. In 1853, Mrs. Hogg received the tardy justice 
 of being placed on the pension-list by the British Government. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 83 
 
 I try the paper and the sclate, 
 
 And pen, and cuwk, and killivinc; 
 But nothing- can I write of late, 
 That even Girzzy ca's divine. 
 O hone, Odoherty ! 
 O hone, Odoherty! 
 Oh wcaiy fa' the fates' decree. 
 That garred the Captain part frae me. 
 
 O hone, Odoherty! 
 Come back, come back to Ettrick lake. 
 And ye sail hear, and ye sail see, 
 What I'se do for the Captain's sake. 
 I'll coff tobacco o' the best, 
 And pipes bailh lang and short I'se gie ; 
 And the toddy-stoup sail ne'er get rest, 
 Frae morn till night, 'tween you and me. 
 
 O hone, Odoherty ! 
 
 O hone, Odoherty ! 
 O welcome sail the moment be 
 That brings the Captain back to me. 
 
 Next to the Ettrick Sliepherd, the member of the Dilettanti 
 who shared most of Ensign Odoherty's confidence and affection 
 was William Allan, Esq. This gentleman's genius as a painter 
 does not require any notice on the present occasion. He has, 
 we understand, done justice to his own feelmgs, and to his friend, 
 by introducing a striking likeness of Odoherty's features into one 
 of his principal pieces. Reader, the Cobler in the Press-gang 
 is Odoherty ! To Mr. Allan, Odoherty frequently addressed 
 humorous epistles in verse. We prefer, however, to quote the 
 following eulogy, which is written in the Adjutant's best serious 
 manner : — 
 
 When wondering ages shall have rolled away, 
 
 And that be ancient which is ik;w to-day; 
 
 When time has pom''d his waiTO and softening glow 
 
 O'er that pale virgin's* throbbing breast of snow, 
 
 And lent the settled majesty of years 
 
 To those grim S])ahis, and those proud viziers ; 
 
 From distant lands the ardent youth shall come 
 
 To gaze with admiration — breathless — dumb — 
 
 To fix his eyes, like orbs of marble, there ! 
 
 And let his soul luxuriate in despair. 
 
 * Circassian Captive.
 
 34 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Posterity! a!i, wlial's a name to thee ! 
 What Raphael is, my Allan then shall be.* 
 
 As tlie writer of the present notice intends to publish in a 
 separate form the poetical writings of Otloherty, with authentic 
 portraits of his friends, it is not necessary to quote any more of 
 these effusions now.t The pleasantry of the Ensign was always 
 harmless, and his very satire was both dart and balsam. He 
 never condescended to personalities, except in one solitary in- 
 stance, in a song, entitled, " The Young Man of the West," 
 composed upon Mr. James Grahame, the famous Anti-Malthu- 
 sian philosopher. This song he used to sing with great humor, 
 to the tune of " A Oobler there was," &c., but though frequent- 
 ly urged to do so, he never would print it ; and on his own 
 manuscript copy there is this note, " Let the Young Man of the 
 West be destroyed," an injunction which has since been scrupu- 
 lously complied with.| 
 
 * Sir William Allan, an historical painter of much eminence, and long at the 
 head of his profession in Scotland, was born in Edinbm-gli in 1782, and died at 
 the same place 'in 1850. His predilection for art was manifested at an early 
 age. While yet a young man, he visited Morocco, Greece, and Spain, in pur- 
 suit of works and subjects of art, and travelled through Russia, and Turkey, 
 and various districts of the East. He returned to Edinburgh about 1816, and 
 exhibited the results of his travel, observation, and genius. His best pictures 
 at this time, for which he obtained high prices, were The Sale of Circassian 
 Captives to a Turkish Bashaw, his Jewish Family in Poland making merry he- 
 fore a Wedding, and his Slave Market at Constantinople. Nor did he confine 
 himself to foreign subjects. The Press Gang was the first in which he em- 
 ployed his pencil upon a domestic subject. After this came his Mnrder of 
 Archbishop Sharpe, Mary Queen of Scots and Rizzio, The Battle of Waterloo, 
 and a long array of others, most of which have become familiar to the public 
 by means of engravings. In 1841, he succeeded Sir David Wilkie as Presi- 
 dent of the Royal Scottish Academy, and was knighted by Queen Victoria. 
 He was an old and warm fi-iend of Sir Walter Scott, and Lockhait devoted a 
 large space in his " Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk," published in 1819, to a 
 descrijitiou of Allan's studio, person, productions, and genius. Sir William 
 Allan, who was never married, was a general favorite in society, from his unas- 
 suming manners, great store of anecdote, and large extent of observation on 
 the countries he had traversed and the persons he had known. — M. 
 
 t This was one of the thousand promises which, in its early days, Blackwood 
 was in the habit of making. — M. 
 
 X This James Grahame, a popular Whig lawyer in Glasgow, iriust not be 
 confounded with his namesake, who commenced life as iin advocate at the
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 35 
 
 During one of tliose brilliant evenings at the Dilettanti, wliich, 
 says onr bard in a letter to the present writer, " will for ever 
 liA'e in the memory of all who enjoyed them," the conversation 
 ran upon the Italian improvisatori. Odoherty remarked, that 
 the power which appeared to many so wonderful, was no way 
 uncommon, and offered to recite, or write down currente calamo, 
 a poem upon any given subject. The president proposed " An 
 Elegy, by a young Lady in a Ball-room disappointed of a Part- 
 ner," and the Adjutant wrote down the following twenty four- 
 line stanzas in fifty-three minutes nineteen seconds by a stop- 
 watch. Such an achievement throws the admirable Crichton 
 into the shade : — 
 
 ELEGY WRITTEN IN A BALL-ROOM. 
 
 The beaux are jogging on the pictured floor. 
 
 The belles responsive trip with lightsome heels ; 
 
 While I, deserted, the cold pangs deplore, 
 
 Or breathe the wrath which slighted beauty feels. 
 
 When first I entered glad, with glad mamma, 
 
 The girls were ranged and clustered round us then ; 
 
 Few beaux were there, those few with scorn I saw. 
 Unknowing Dandies that could come at fen. 
 
 My buoyant heart beat high with promised pleasure, 
 
 My dancing garland moved with airy grace ; 
 Quick beat my active toe to Gow's gay measure. 
 
 And undissembled triumph wreathed my face. 
 
 Edinburgh bar, but being of a melancholy temperament, and a truly religious 
 character, took holy orders in the Church of Englnnd, retired to a curacy near 
 Durham, and died in 1811. His reputation as a poet rests upon his *' Sabbiith" 
 of which and of him, Byron thus spoke in the English Bards, and Scotch Re- 
 viewers : — 
 
 " Lo ! the Sabbath bard, 
 . Sepulchral Grahame, pours his notes sublime 
 
 In mangled prose, nor e'en aspii'es to rhyme ; 
 
 Breaks into blank the Gospel of St. Luke, 
 
 And boldly pilfers from the Pentateuch ; 
 
 And, undisturbed by conscientious qualms, 
 
 Perverts the Prophets, and purloins the Psalms." 
 The Mr. Grahame whom Odoherty is stated to have satirized was a liberal in 
 politics, an orator at public dinners alid radical meetirigs, and a patron of (if 
 not contributing to) the Edinhnrgh Review — any of which offences would have 
 caused the wits of Blackwood to laugh at him. — M.
 
 36 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Fancy prospective took a proud survey 
 Of all the coming glories of the night ; 
 
 Even where I stood my legs began to play^ 
 So racei's paw the turf e'er jockeys smite. 
 
 And " who shall be my partner first?" I said, 
 As my thoughts glided o'er the coming beaux; 
 
 " Not Tom, nor Ned, nor Jack," — I tossed my head, 
 Nice grew my taste, and high my scorn arose. 
 
 "If Dicky asks me, I shall spit and sprain; 
 
 When Sam approaches, headaches I will mention; 
 I'll freeze the colonel's heart with cold disdain ;" 
 
 Thus ci-uelly ran on my glib invention. 
 
 While yet my fancy revelled in her dreams, 
 The sets are forming, and the fiddles scraping ; 
 
 Gow's wakening chord a stirring prelude screams, 
 The beaux are quizzing, and the misses gaping. 
 
 Beau after beau approaches, bows, and smiles. 
 
 Quick to the dangler's arm springs glad ma'amselle; 
 
 Pair after pair augments the sparkling files. 
 And full upon my ear " the triumph" swells 
 
 I flirt my fan in time with the mad fiddle, 
 My eye pursues the dancers' motions flying ; 
 
 Cross hands ! Balancez ! down and tip the middle ! 
 To join the revel how my heart is djring. 
 
 One miss sits down all glowing from the dance, 
 
 Another rises, and another yet ; 
 Beaux upon belles, and belles on beaux advance, 
 
 The tune unending, ever full the set. 
 
 At last a pause there comes — to Gow's keen hand 
 The hurrying lackey hands the enlivening port ; 
 
 The misses sip the ices where they stand. 
 And gather vigor to renew the sport. 
 
 I round the room dispense a wistful glance. 
 
 Wish Ned, or Dick, or Tom, would crave the honor; 
 
 I hear Sam whisper to Miss B., " Do — dance," 
 And launch a withering scowl of envy on her. 
 
 Sir Bill}' capers up to Lady Di ; 
 
 In vain I cough as gay Sir Billy passes ; 
 The Major asks my sister — faint I sigh, 
 
 " Well after this — the men are grown such asses !" 
 
 In vain ! in vain ! again the dancers mingle. 
 With lazy eye I watch the busy scene,
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 37 
 
 Far on the pillowed sofa sad and single, 
 
 Languid the attitude — but sharp the spleen. 
 "La! ma'am, how hot!" — "You're quite fatigued, I see;" 
 
 "What a long dance !" — "And so yon'i'e come to town!" 
 Such casual whispers are addressed to me, 
 
 But not one hint to lead the next set down. 
 
 The third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, arc gone, 
 And now the seventh — and yet I'm asked not once 
 
 When supper comes must I descend alone ? 
 
 Does Fate deny me my last prayer — a dunce? 
 
 Mamma supports me to the room for munching. 
 
 There turkey's breast she crams, and wing of pullet; 
 
 I slobbering jelly, and haid nuts am crunching. 
 And pouring tuns of trifle down my gullet. 
 
 No oeau invites me to a glass of sheny; 
 
 Above me stops the salver of champaign; 
 While all the rest are tossing brimmers meiry, 
 
 I with cold water comfort my disdain. 
 
 Ye bucks of Edinburgh! ye tasteless creatures! 
 
 Ye vapid Dandies! how I scorn you all! — 
 Green slender slips, with pale cheese-pairing features, 
 
 And awkward, himb'ring, red-faced boobies tall. 
 
 Strange compounds of the beau and the attorney ! 
 
 Raw lairds ! and school-boys for a whisker shaving ! 
 May injured beauty's glance of fury biu-n ye ! 
 
 I hate you — clowns and fools! but hah ! — I'm raving ! 
 
 We shall now take leave, for tlie present, of Odoherty and 
 tlie Dilettanti Society, with an extract from his longest and 
 latest poem, entitled " Young's Night Thoughts" (a humorous 
 allusion to the before-mentioned celebrated tavern). Lively as 
 this strain is, we can scarcely read it without tears ; for it was, 
 we repeat, the very last of his works here below. The follow- 
 ing proem, copied by a female hand on hot-pressed gilt paper, 
 is intended to explain the great leading object of the poem : — 
 
 There was a time when every sort of people 
 
 Created, relished, and commended jokes; 
 But now a joker's stared at, like a steeple, 
 
 By the majority of Christian folks. 
 Dulness has tanned her hide to thickness triple. 
 
 And Observation sets one in the stocks. 
 When you've been known a comic song to sing, 
 Write notices, or any harmless thing.
 
 38 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Tliifi Eiliiibuigh, Edinn, or Diinedin — 
 
 ('Cleped, in the Bailie's lingo, " the Good Town ;" 
 
 But styled " Auld Reekie" by all Celts now treading- 
 
 Her streets, bows, winds, lanes, crescents, up and down, 
 
 Her labyrinths of stairs and closes threading 
 On other people's business or their own — 
 
 Those bandy, broad-faced, rough-kneed, ragged laddies — 
 
 Those horney-fisted, those gill-swigging caddies.) 
 
 This Edinburgh some call Metropolis, 
 
 And Capital, and Athens of the North — 
 I know not what they mean. — I'm sure of this, — 
 
 Tho' she abounds in men of sense and worth. 
 Her staple and predominant qualities 
 
 Are ignorance, and nonsense, and so forth ; 
 I don't like making use of a hard word. 
 But 'tis the merest 1mm, I ever heard. 
 
 There's our Mackenzie ; all with veneration 
 
 See him that Harley felt and Caustic drew : 
 There's Scott, the pride and darling of his nation, 
 
 Poet and cavalier, kind, generous, true. 
 There's .Jeffrey, who has been the botheration 
 
 Of the whole world with his glib sharp Review, 
 And made most young Scots lawyers mad with whiggery — 
 There's Leslie, Stewart, Alison, and Gregory.* 
 
 * Henry Mackenzie, author of " The Man of Feeling,'" " The Man of the 
 World," "Julia do Roubigne," numerous essays in "The Mirror," and "The 
 Lounger," two tragedies, some translations fi-om tho German, was bom at Ed- 
 inburgh in 174.5, and died in 1831, aged eighty-five. — Mr. Pitt made him 
 Comptroller of the Taxes in Scotland, with a salary of eight hundred pounds 
 sterling a year. In pathos and grace he has rarely been equalled as a writer 
 of prose fiction. He was the life-long friend of Sir Walter Scott, and was one 
 of the first to recognise and proclaim the genius of Burns. His character of 
 Harley is beautifully drawn, and St^ott, who dedicated Waverley to him, took 
 occasion to say that his sketch of Colonel Caustic was admirable. — Of Sir 
 Walter Scott it is not necessary to say more here than that he was born in 1771, 
 died ill 1832, aged sixty-one, and, by his writings has been the cause of mom 
 intellectual enjoyment than any author of his time. — Francis Jeffrey, who, bj 
 means of the Edinburgh Review (of which he was editor from October, 1802, 
 when it was commenced, until 1829, when he became Dean of the Faculty of 
 law) first raised British criticism into a science, was born in 1773, called to 
 the Scottish bar in 1794, was made Lord Advocate of Scotland in 1830, entered 
 Parliament, where he did not obtain anything like success, took his seat on 
 the bench at Edinburgh, in 1834, as Lord Jeffrey, and died in 1850, in his sev- 
 entieth year, leaving the highest reputation as a critic and lawyer, a rn'-'t'-
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTT. 89 
 
 But llicse and some few others lu-ing luiined, 
 
 I don't remember one more groat gun in her; 
 The remanent papulation can't be blamed, 
 
 Because their chief concern in life's their dinner. 
 To give examples I should be ashamed, 
 
 And people would cry, "Lord! that wicked sinner!'' 
 (i'or all we gentiy here are quite egg-shells, 
 We can't endure jokes that comes near " ooi-sells") 
 
 They say that knowledge is diffused and general, 
 
 And taste and understanding are so common, 
 I'd rather see a sweep-boy suck a penny roll 
 
 Than listen to a cnticising- woman. 
 
 cian and orator, a judge and a man of wit. — Sir John Leslie, born at Largo, 
 in Scotland, in 176G, died in 1832. His parents were poor, but he ob- 
 tained his education at the University of St. Andrews, and there laid the found- 
 ation of the scientific knowledge which, in 1805, caused his election to the 
 Professorship of Mathematics in Edinburgh University. In 1819, on the death 
 of Playfair, he exchanged this for the chair of philosophy. In 1832, he re- 
 ceived the Guelphic order, and was knighted, but died the same year. He 
 was author of many scientific works of great ability. — Dugald Stewart, bom at 
 Edinburgh in 1753, became Professor of Moral Philosophy in the university 
 there, in 1785. The first volume of his " Philosophy of the Human Mind" 
 appeared in 1792, and was followed by " Outlines of Moral Philosophy," and 
 several other productions, including memoirs of Adam Smith, Dr. Robertson, 
 and Dr. Reid. He died in 1828.— The Rev. Archibald Alison (father of Sir 
 Archibald Alison, the historian) was born in 1757, at Edinburgh. He was a 
 minister of the Church of England, and officiated as such, in his native city for 
 many years. His " Sermons" are well written, but his literary reputation was 
 established by the "Essay on the Nature and Principles of Taste," which has ob- 
 tained extraordinary populai'ity. He died in 1839. — Several distinguished 
 members of the family of Gregory have been attached by professorships, to the 
 University of Edinburgh. — Dr. James Gregory, author of the "Treatise on 
 Optics," in which he imparted his invention of the reflecting telescope, occu- 
 pied the chair of Mathematics from 1674 to October, 1675, when he died. His 
 nephew, David, after filling the same chair, was elected Savilian professor of 
 Asti'onomy at Oxford, and died in 1710, after having produced several scien- 
 tific works of merit. — Dr. John Gregory, who died in 1773, was Professor of 
 Physic, and author of several works, of which the only one now cared for is 
 his "Father's Legacy to his Daughters." — Dr. James Gregory, Professor of 
 Medicine, produced a variety of eminent and useful professional works, died in 
 1821, and is the person alluded to in the poem. His son is now Professor of 
 Chemisti-y in the University of Edinburgh, and has distinguished himself as a 
 writer. — M.
 
 40 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 And as for poetiy, the time of dinner all, 
 
 Thank God, I then have better things to do, man. — 
 Exceptions 'gainst the fair were coarse and shocking — 
 I've seen in breeches many a true blue stocking. 
 
 Blue stockiiip; stands, in my vocabulary, 
 
 For one that always chatters (sex is nothing) 
 About new books from June to January, 
 
 And with re-echoed carpings moves your loathing 
 I like to see young people smart and airy, 
 
 With well dressed hair and fashionable clothing, 
 Can't they discourse about ball, rout, or play, 
 And know reviewing's quite out of their way 1 
 
 It strikes me as a thing exceeding stupid. 
 
 This conversation about books, books, books, 
 When I was young, and sat midst damsels grouped, 
 
 I talked of roses, zephyrs, gurgling brooks, 
 Venus, the Graces, Dian, Hymen, Cupid, 
 
 Perilous glances, soul ubduing looks. 
 Slim tapering fingers, glossy clustering curls. 
 Diamonds and emeralds, cairngorms and pearls. 
 
 On Una that made sunshine in the shade, 
 
 And Emily with eye of liquid jet. 
 And gentle Desdemona, and the maid 
 
 That sleeps within the tomb of Capulet 
 Hearts love to ponder — would it not degrade 
 
 Our notion of a nymph like Juliet, 
 To be informed that she had just read thro' 
 Last Number of the Edinburgh Review? 
 
 Leave ye to dominies and sticker stibblers, 
 
 And all the sedentaiy generation. 
 The endless chitter-chatter about sci-ibblers, 
 
 And England's melancholy situation. 
 Let them be still the customary nibblers 
 
 Of all that i-ule or edify the nation ; 
 Leave oif the corn-bill, and the law of libel. 
 And read the Pilgrim's Progress or your Bible. 
 
 From tlie poem itself we quote tlie following stanzas, without 
 any remarks, convinced that their simple elegance and unaffect- 
 ed grace stand in no need of the critic's recommendations : — 
 
 I rose this morning about half past nine. 
 
 At breakfast coffee I consumed pour qnatre, 
 Unnumbered rolls enriched with marmalade fine. 
 
 And little balls of butter dished in water.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY 41 
 
 •Three eggs, two plateful of superb cold cliiiic 
 
 (Much recommended to m;ike thin folks fatter) ; 
 And ha%'ing tlius my btillast stow'd on board, 
 Roamed forth to kill a day's time like a lord. 
 
 How I conti-ived to pass the whole forenoon, 
 
 I can't remember though my life were on it ; 
 I helped G. T. in jotting of a tunc,* 
 
 And hinted rhymes to G s for a sonnet ;! 
 
 * G. T. whom Lockhart speaks of as "old George Thompson, the finend 
 of Burns," long held a lucrative appointment under the Crown at Edinburgh, 
 and died there some two years ago. He possessed much musical taste, and? 
 published an excellent and well-known collection of Scottish Songs, to which, 
 from 1792 to 1796 (when death removed the poet). Burns contributed a very con- 
 siderable portion of the words. Thompson has been greatly blamed for his nig- 
 gardly conduct towards Burns. The only voluntary payments he made, for the 
 finest songs in the language, consisted of £5 sent to Burns in July, 1793, 
 which the poet hesitated accepting, wishing that his contributions to Scottish 
 Song should indeed be " a labor of love," and another £5"which Burns, driven, 
 as he said, by " curst necessity," earnestly entreated as a loan, on July 12, 
 1796 — nine days before his death. Thompson sent the money, stating " it 
 was the very sum I proposed sending." This £10, with a present of a worsted 
 shawl to the poet's wife, was Thomjison's only payment for sixty-two original 
 songs expressly written for his collection by Burns, besides alterations of and 
 additions to other songs, and suggestions, during five years, touching the music 
 and other points. Burns would not have asked Thompson for money if, at the 
 time. Poverty had not been sitting with her knees upon liis hearth. It should 
 be known, too, by all who have been induced to consider him a reckless, ex- 
 travagant man, that, when he died, Robert Burns, "the glory and reproach 
 of Scotland," owed no man a shilling. Thompson, who outlived him more 
 than half a centui-y, was "a prosperous gentleman" all his days. — M. 
 
 t Robert Pearce Gillies (whose " Memoirs of a Literary Veteran," were 
 published in 1851), was a contributor to Blackwood from its commencement. 
 His poem, " Childe Alarique," in 1813, attracted some attention. He had a 
 knack at sonnet-writing, and was himself the subject of the sonnet by Words- 
 worth, in 1814, which concludes with the now-familiar lines 
 " A cheerful life is what the muses love, 
 A soaring spirit is their prime delight." 
 
 In 1835-6, Gillies contributed some very interesting " Recollections of Sir 
 Walter Scott" to Frazer^s Magazine, but his reputation will mainly rest ou 
 his Blackwood papers, called " Hin-se Germanicse," and " Horfe Danicas," 
 in which he may be said to have first introluced the best dramatic writings 
 of Germany and Denmark to English and American readers. His knowledge 
 of foreign literature, thus exhibited, obtained him the Editorship of the Foreign 
 Quarterly Review, when first started in 1827. — M.
 
 42 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Called at the Knox's shop with Miss Balloon, 
 
 And heard her ipsa dixit on a bonnet ; 
 Then washed my mouth with ices, tarts, and flummeries, 
 And ginger-beer and soda, at Montgomery's.* 
 
 Down Prince's Street I once or twice paraded, 
 
 And gazed upon these same etei-nal faces; 
 Those beai'dless beaux and bearded belles, those faded 
 
 And flashy silks, surtouts, pelisses, laces. 
 Those crowds of clerks, astride on hackneys jaded, 
 
 Prancing and capering with notorial grace ; 
 Dreaming enthusiasts who indulge vain whimsies, 
 • That they might pass in Bond Street or St. James's. t 
 
 I saw equestrian and pedestrian vanish 
 
 — One to a herring in his lonely shop. 
 A'.id some of kind gregarious, and more clanish, 
 
 To club at Waters' for a mutton-chop; 
 Myself resolved for once my cares to banish, 
 
 And give the Cerberus of thought a sop, 
 Got Jack's, and Sam's, and Dick's, and Tom's consent. 
 And o'er the Mound to Billy Young's we went.t 
 
 I am not nice, I care not what I dine on, 
 
 A sheep's head or beef-steak is all I wish ; 
 Old Homer! how he loved the cpvOpov oivov 
 
 It is the glass that glorifies the dish. 
 The thing that I have always set my mind on 
 
 (A small foundation laid of fowl, flesh, fish) 
 Is out of bottle, pitcher, or punch-bowl. 
 To suck reviving solace to my soul. 
 
 * In 1818, Knox's mercery shop was in Prince's street, the Stewart's of 
 Edinburgh. Montgomery's was in the same street — which, for its import- 
 ance, and bustle of business, and being much frequented as a fashionable 
 lounge, was something like Broadway in New York. — M. 
 
 t Bond-street and St. James's, where once beauty and rank, wealth and 
 fashion used to congregate, have " fallen from their high estate," from the suc- 
 cessful rivalry of Regent-street, now one of the richest and most popular thor- 
 oughfares of London. — M. 
 
 t The city of Edinburgh consists of the " Old town" and the " New town," 
 separated by a valley. There is a passage from Prince's street, nearly opposite 
 the Castle, into the ancient part of the city, over what is called " The Mound," 
 — on which now stands a splendid building, in which the Exhibitions of Paint- 
 ing and Sculpture take place. A little higher up, between the Mound and the 
 North Bridge, is placed on that side of Prince's street, which is not built upon 
 (to allow a view of the ancient city) a very magnificent monument of Scott, 
 consisting of an ornamented cross, with a statue in the interior. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 43 
 
 Life's a dull dusty desert, waste and drear, 
 
 With now and then an oasis between, 
 Where palm-ti-ees rise, and fountains gushinor clear 
 
 Burst neath the shelter of that leafy screen ; 
 Haste not your j)arling steps, when such nppear, 
 
 Repose, ye weary travellers, on the g;reen. 
 Horace and Milton, Dante, Burns, and Schiller, 
 Dined at a tavern — when they had "the siller." 
 And ne'er did poet, epical or tragical, 
 
 At Florence, London, Weimar, Rome, Maybole, 
 See time's dark lanthern glow with hues more magical 
 
 Than I have witnessed in the Coffin-hole. 
 Praise of antiquity a bam and fudge I call, 
 
 Ne'er past the present let my wishes roll ; 
 A fig for all comparing, croaking grumblers. 
 Hear me, dear dimpling Billy, bring the tumblers.* 
 Let blank verse hero, or Spenserian rhymer. 
 
 Treat Donna Musa with chateau-margout, 
 Chateau-]a-fitte, Johannisberg, Hocheimer, 
 
 In tall outlandish glasses green and blue, 
 Thanks to my stars, myself, a doggrel-chimer, 
 
 Have nothing with such costly tastes to do; 
 My muse is always kindest when I court her 
 O'er whiskey-punch, gin-twist, strong beer, and porter. 
 And O, my pipe, though in these Dandy days 
 
 Few love thee, fewer still their love confess, 
 Ne'er let me blush to celebrate thy praise, 
 
 Divine invention of the age of Bess ! 
 I far a moment interrupt my lays 
 
 The tiny tube with loving lip to press, 
 I'll then come back with a reviving zest. 
 And give thee three more stanzas of my best. 
 
 (I smoke.) 
 Pipe ! whether plain in fashion of Frey-herr, 
 
 Or gaudy glittering in the taste of Boor, 
 Deep-darkened Meer-shaum or Ecume-de-mer, 
 
 Or snowy clay of Gowda, light and pure. 
 Let different people different pipes prefer. 
 
 Delft, horn, or catgut, long, short, older, newer, 
 Puff, every brother, as it iJkes him best, 
 De gustibus non disputandum est. 
 
 * The hostelrie kept by " Billy Young," in High-street, the old town of 
 Edinburgh, was honored with the sobriquet of The Coffin-hole. — The select 
 and classic gentlemen of the Dilettanti Society much affected the place, as 
 has been already mentioned. — M.
 
 44 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Pipe ! when 1 stuff into thee my canaster, 
 
 With flower of camomile and leaf of rose, 
 And the calm rising fume comes fast and faster, 
 
 Curling with balmy circles near my nose. 
 And all the while my dexter hand is master 
 
 Of the full cup from Meux's vat that flows, 
 Heavens ! all my brain a soft oblivion Vifraps 
 Of wafered letters and of single taps. 
 
 I've no objections to a good segar, 
 
 A true Havana, smooth, and moist, and brown ;* 
 
 * The reader may thank me for reminding him of some lines, by Lord Byron, 
 on the same subject. They appeared in " The Island," written and published 
 in 1823, exactly five years after the appearance of Odoherty's stanzas, (in April, 
 1818,) and, as Byron was a constant reader of Blackwood^ s Magazine, and 
 much addicted to " cribbing" the ideas of others (as he confessed to Moore, 
 which is done, more or less, by all clever writers — if they would only confess 
 it !) it is very probable that he made free with Odoherty on this occasion. 
 Byron's linos are, 
 
 " But here the herald of the self-same mouth 
 Come breathing o'er the aromatic South, 
 Not like a bed of violets on the gale, 
 But such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale, 
 Bonie from a short frail pipe, which yet had blown 
 Its gentle odors over either zone. 
 And, puffed where'er winds rise or waters roll, 
 Had wafted smoke from Portsmouth to the Pole, 
 Opposed its vapor as the lightning flashed. 
 And recked, mid mountain bellows, unabashed. 
 To iEolus a constant saciifice, 
 Through every change of all the varying skies. 
 And what was he who bore it? — I may err, 
 But deem him sailor or philosopher. 
 Sublime tobacco ! which fron: east to west 
 Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest; 
 Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides 
 His hours, and rivals opium and his brides ; 
 Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand. 
 Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand; 
 Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe, 
 When tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and rijie ; 
 Like other charmers, wooing the caress 
 More dazzlingly when daring in full dress ; 
 Yet thy true lovers more admire by far 
 Thy naked beauties — Give me a cigar!
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 45 
 
 But then the smoke's too near the eye by far, 
 
 And out of doors 'tis in a twinkling- flown ; 
 And somehow it sets all my teeth ajar, 
 
 When to an inch or so we've smoked him down ; 
 And if your leaf have got a straw within it, 
 You know *tis like a cinder in a minute. 
 
 In priority of composition, Odoherty certainly takes precedence, and his 
 stanzas anticipate the ideas expressed by Byron, on the subject of tobacco, 
 which James I. and Charles Lamb have universally made illustrious. It is im- 
 possible, of course, to mention the Nicotian literature without thinking of 
 Charles Lamb's lines, entitled "A Farewell to Tobacco," commencing, 
 " May the Babylonish curse 
 
 Strait confound my stammering verse, 
 
 If I can a passage see 
 
 In this word perplexity, 
 
 Or a fit expression find, 
 
 Or a language to my mind, 
 
 (Still the phrase is wide or scant) 
 
 To take leave of thee, great Plant !" 
 and, after subjecting the weed to an exquisite alternation of praise and abuse, 
 concluding thus, 
 
 " For thy sake, Tobacco, I, 
 
 Would do anything but die. 
 
 And but seek to extend my days 
 
 Long enough to sing thy praise, 
 
 But as she who once hath been 
 
 A king's consort, is a queen 
 
 Ever after, nor will bate 
 
 Any title of her state, 
 
 Though a widow, or divorced — 
 
 So I, from thy converse forced, 
 
 The old name and style retain, 
 
 A right Katheiine of Spain ; 
 
 And a seat, too, 'mongst the joys 
 
 Of the blest Tobacco Boys ; 
 
 Where, though I, by sour physician 
 
 Am debarred the full fruition 
 
 Of thy favors, I may catch 
 
 Some collateral sweets, and match 
 
 Sidelong odors, that give life 
 
 Like glances from a neighbor's wife; 
 
 And slill live in the by-places 
 
 And the suburbs of thy graces ; 
 
 And in thy borders take delight. 
 
 An unconquered Canaanite." — M.
 
 46 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I have no doubt a long excursive hooker 
 Suits well some lordly lounger of Bengnl, 
 
 Who never writes, or looks into a book, or 
 Does any thing with earnestness at all ; 
 
 He sits, and his tobacco's in the nook, or 
 Tended by some black heathen in the halt, 
 
 Lays up his legs, and thinks he does great things 
 
 If once in the half hour a puff he brings. 
 
 I rather follow in my smoking trim 
 
 The exnmple of Scots cottars and their wives 
 
 Who, while the evening air is warm and dim. 
 In July sit beside their garden hives ; 
 
 And, gazing all the while with wrinkles grim 
 To see how the concern of honey thrives. 
 
 Empty before they've done a four-ounce bag 
 
 Of sailors' twist, or, what's less common — shag. 
 
 CHAPTER IV.* 
 
 Odoherty's Success in Edinburgh Society — Attends Lectures in the Univer- 
 sity — Remarks on Scottish Fashionables — Acts as Cicerone to the Austrian 
 Archdukes — Specimens of his Songs — Visit to Glasgow and Honors from 
 the University — A Tale of Terror ! — Fragments: Abolition of the Pronoun 
 I; Scandal; Blue-Stockings; Skull- Walls and the Catacombs. 
 
 This winter was indeed a memorable one in tlie life of Odo- 
 lierty. Divided almost in equal proportions between the Old 
 and the New Town of Edinburgh — the society of Hogg, Allan, 
 and the Dilettanti, on the one hand, and that of the female and 
 fashionable world on the other — and thus presenting to the 
 active mind of the Ensign a perpetual succession, or rather al- 
 ternation, of the richest viands — it produced the effects which 
 might have been anticipated, and swelled considerably the bulk 
 
 * The gentleman who drew up the first two notices of this life, having died 
 of an apoplexy some time ago, the notice which appeared in March, and the 
 present one, are by a difffrent hand. [The reader is advised to refer to, if 
 he should have forgotten or passed over, the explanation of the aliove note 
 in page 27.] — M.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 47 
 
 of two portfolios, respectively set apart for the prose and verse 
 compositions -which, at this period of his career, onr bard was so 
 rapidly ponring forth to the admiration of his numerous friends 
 and the public. 
 
 His morning hours were devoted to attend several courses of 
 lectures in the University ; for Odolierty was never weary of 
 learning, and embraced with ardor every opportunity that was 
 afforded him of increasing the stores of his literary acqiiisitions 
 and accomplishments. His remarks upon the different lectures 
 which lie now attended, possess all his characteristic acuteness, 
 and would have done honor to a more practised critic. But 
 these we reserve for the separate publication of liis works. To 
 insert any mutilated fragments of them here would be an act of 
 injustice to the illustrious Professors, Brown, Playfair, Leslie, 
 Hope, Ritchie, &c., no less than to their distinguished disciple.* 
 
 * Dr. Thomas Brown, the immediate predecessor of the late John Wilson, 
 as Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, was the son 
 of a Scottish clergyman, and born in 1778. A pupil of Dugald Stewart, at the 
 nge of twenty he published Observations on the Zoonomia of Dr. Darwin (most 
 of it written before he was eighteen), graduated as M.D. in 1803 — published 
 two volumes of poems in 1804 — soon after brought out his Relation of Cause 
 and Effect — and became Dugald Stewart's substitute in the chair of Moral 
 Philosophy, in 1808-9, and Joint-Professor, in 1810. The Paradise of Co- 
 quettes, a poem of much merit, appeared in 1814. He died, at Brompton, 
 near London, in April, 1820. His Lectures were given to the world after his 
 death, and upon them chiefly rests his great reputation as a philosopher. — 
 Professor John Playfair, the son of a Scottish minister, was born in 1748, edu- 
 cated at St. Andrew's, ordained for the church, early distinguished himself by 
 his progress in science, succeeded to his father's parish in 1773, but eventually 
 resigned it, and, after some time spent in travel and private tuition, was ap- 
 pointed Joint-Mathematical Professor, at Edinburgh University, in 1785 — he 
 had previously stood two unsuccessful contests, for a similar chair ; at Aber- 
 deen, when he was only eighteen, and at St. Andrew's when he was twenty- 
 four. In 1805, resigning the mathematical chair, he was made Professor of 
 Natural History, and died, in July, 1819, at Edinburgh. His acquirements, in 
 literature and science, were very great. His writings embraced a vast variety 
 of subjects — the most eminent among them are his Elements of Geometry, 
 Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory, Outlines of Natural Philosophy, Disser- 
 tation on the Progress of Mathematical and Physical Science since the Revival 
 of Letters in Europe (for the Encyclopedia Britannica), and a great number 
 of articles for the Edinburgh Review, of which the best known aj-e a masterly 
 criticism on Madame de Stael's Corinne, and an account (in the eleventh vol- 
 ume of that periodical) of Laplace's Mecanique Celeste. This last article,
 
 48 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. - 
 
 Great and illustrious as is the fame of these Philosophers, it is 
 possible that the names of some of them may live in distant 
 ages, chiefly because of their connexion with that of Odoherty. 
 The Ensign may be to them what Xenophon has been to 
 Socrates ; he may be more, for it is possible that none of them 
 may have a Plato. 
 
 The gay world of the northern metropolis, which, during this 
 remarkable winter, was adorned by the graceful and ingenious 
 Bnsign, seems, we are constrained to observe, to have found less 
 favor in his eyes than in those of most other visitors with whom 
 we have had an opportunity of conversing. In one of those in- 
 imitable letters of his, addressed to the compiler of the present 
 sketch, he comments with some little causticity on the incidents 
 
 if his best biographer be credited, there is no general account of the great 
 facts and principles of astronomy so clear, comprehensive, and exact, nor 
 half so beautiful and majestic in the composition. In that clever and caustic 
 work, Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk, Mr. Lockhart (as Doctor Morris) has 
 paid high, eloquent, and merited homage to th^ genius of Brown, Playfair, and 
 Lrslie, and dwells with great gusto upon a trial of strength and agility which 
 took place, about 1818, at Craig-crook, the country seal of Mr. Jeffrey, for 
 which Playfair threw off liis coat and waistcoat: — " AVith the exception of 
 Leslie, they all jumped wonderfully ; and Jeffrey was quite miraculous, consid- 
 ering his brevity of stride. But the greatest wonder of the whole was Mr. 
 Playfair. He is also a short man, and he cannot be less than sevent}', yet he 
 took his stand with the assurance of an athletic, and positively beat every one 
 of us — the veiy best of us, at least half a heel's breadth. I was quite thun- 
 derstruck, never having heard the least hint of his being so great a geometri- 
 cian — in this sense of the word." — There were two Edinburgh lawyers of the 
 name of Hope, at this time. One was Charles Hope, Lord President of the 
 Court of Session, and (in 1819), Colonel of the Royal Blues, a foot regiment 
 of Edinburgh volunteers. He was an upright judge, an eloquent speaker, a 
 sound lawyer, and a strong tory. The other was John Hope, an intimate friend 
 of Scott's, and the person referred to in the text. He was Dean of the Faculty 
 of Advocates and Solicitor-General for Scotland, when he was thus mentioned 
 in Scott's diary of December, 1825, " decidedly the most hopeful young man 
 of his time : high connections, great talent, spirited ambition, a ready elocu- 
 tion, with a good voice and dignified manners, p-.ompt and steady courage, 
 vigilant and constant assiduity, popularity with the young men, and the good 
 opinion of the old, will, if I mistake not, carry him as high as any man who 
 has arisen here since the days of old Hal Dundas [the first Viscount Melville]." 
 — John Hope fulfilled his high expectation. When I last saw him, in May, 
 1850, he was on the Scottish judicial bench as the Lord Justice Clerk, head 
 of the chief criminal Court of Scotland. -^M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHKHTY. 49 
 
 of several balls and routes which he had just attended. " The 
 gayeties of Edinburgh," writes the Ensign, " are a bad and lame 
 caricature of those of London. There is the same squeeze, the 
 same heat, the same buzz ; but, alas ! the ease, the elegance, 
 the non-chalance are awanting. In London, the different orders 
 of society are so numerous that they keep themselves totally 
 apart from each other ; and the highest circles of fashion admit 
 none as denizens except those who possess the hereditary claims 
 of birth and fortune, or (as in my own case), those who are sup- 
 posed to atone for their deficiencies in these respects, by extra- 
 ordinary genius or merit. — Hence there are so few stones of the 
 first, or even of the second, Avater, that recourse is necessarily 
 had to far inferior gems — not unfrequently even to the transi- 
 tory mimicries of j>aste. You shall see the lady of an attorney 
 stowing away her bedsteads and basinstands,, dismantling all her 
 apartments, and turning heB»whole family topsy-turvy once in a 
 season, in order that she may have the satisfaction of dispersing 
 two hundred cards, with '■'■At homc^' upon them. It is amusing 
 enough to see with what laborious exertion, she and her daugh- 
 ters, sensible people that attend to domestic concerns, plain- 
 work, &c., for three parts of the year, become for a few short 
 weeks the awkward inapt cojjyists of tlieii far less respectable 
 betters. It is distressing to see the faded airs with which these 
 good Bourgeoises endeavor to conceal their confusion in receiving 
 the curtsy of a lady of quality, who comes to their houses only for 
 the purpose of quizzing them in some corner, with some sarcastic 
 younger brother," &c. The rest of the letter, consisting chiefly 
 of rapturous descriptions of particular young ladies, is omitted 
 from motives of delicacy. Two fair creatures, however, a most 
 exquisite petite Blonde, and a superb sultana-like Brunette, who 
 seem to have divided for several weeks the possession of the 
 sensible heart of Odoherty, may receive, upon personal applica- 
 tion to the publisher, several sonnets, elegies, &c., which are in- 
 scribed with their names in the above-mentioned portfolio of 
 their departed admirer — faint and frail memorials of unripened 
 affections — memorials over which they may now drop a tear of 
 delightful pensiveness — which they may noAv press to the virgin 
 bosom without a hope, and therefore, alas ! v.ithout a blush. 
 Vol. L — 3
 
 oU THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 About this period their Imperial Highnesses the Archdukes 
 John and Lewis of Austria arrived in the Caledonian metropolis. 
 Although they received every polite attention from the military, 
 legal, and civic dignitaries of the place, these elevated person- 
 ages were afflicted, notwithstanding, with considerable symptoms 
 of ennui, in the course of the long evening which they spent at 
 M'Culloch's, after returning from the pomps and festivities of 
 the day.* It was then that their Highnesses, expressing some 
 desire to partake of the more unceremonious and week-day so- 
 ciety of the Northern Athens, various characters of singing, 
 smoking, and scientific celebrity were introduced to their apart- 
 ment, through the intervention of a gentleman in their suite. 
 Among these, it is scarcely necessary to observe, was Odoherty. 
 The Ensign, with that happy tact which a man of true genius 
 carries into every situation of life, immediately perceived and 
 caught the air, manner, &c. — in a word, whatever was best 
 adapted for captivating the archiducal fancy. His proficiency 
 in the German tongue, the only one which these princes spoke 
 with much fluency, was not indeed great ; but he made amends 
 for this by the truly Germanic ferocity with which he smoked 
 (for the Ensign was one of those who could send the cloud, ad 
 lihilum, through the ears and nostrils, as well as the mouth) by 
 the unqualified admiration Avhich he testified for the favorite im- 
 perial beverage of Giles' ale — but, above all, by the style of 
 matchless excellence in which he sung some of his own songs, 
 among which were the following : — 
 
 SONG I. 
 Confusion to routs and at homes, 
 
 To assemblies, and balls, and what not; 
 'Tis with pain e'er Odoherty roams 
 
 From the scenes of the pipe and the pot. 
 Your Dandies ma}' call him a sot, 
 
 They never can call him a spoon ; 
 
 * The Royal Hotel, Edinburgh, was kept by James M'Culloch, who literally 
 resembled " a ton of flesh." His death took place on January 12, 1819, and 
 is thus mentioned in a letter from Sir Walter Scott, " No news here hut that 
 the goodly hullv of conceit and tallow, which was called Macculloch, of the 
 Royal Hotel, Prince's street, was put to bed dead-drunk on Wednesday night, 
 and taken out the next morning dead-by-itself-dead." — M.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 51 
 
 And Oiloherty cares not a jot, 
 
 For he's sure you won't join in the tunc. 
 With your pipes and yoin' s\vi2)P9, 
 And your herrings and tripes, 
 You never can join in the tune. 
 I'm a swapper, as every one knows, 
 
 In my pumps six feet tliree inches higii ; 
 'Tis no wonder your minikin beaux 
 Have a fancy to fight rather shy 
 Of a Gulliver chap such as I, 
 
 That could stride over troops of their tribes, 
 That had never occasion to buy 
 Either collars, or calves, or kibes. 
 My boot wrenches and pinches. 
 Though 'tis wide twenty inches, 
 And I don't bear my brass at my kibes. 
 When 1 see a fantastical hopper, 
 
 A trim little chip of the ton. 
 Not so thick as your Highness' pipe-stopper, 
 
 And scarcely, I take it, so long, 
 Swaddled prim and precise as a prong. 
 
 With his ribs running all down and u]i. 
 Says I, Does the creature belong 
 To the race of the ewe or the tup ? 
 
 With their patches and their scratches. 
 And their plastered mustticlics. 
 They are more of the ewe than the tup. 
 
 SONG II. 
 That nothing is perfect has frequently been 
 
 By the wisest philosophers stated unlruly; 
 Which only can prove that they never had seen 
 
 The agreeable Lady Lucrctia Gilhooly. 
 Where's the philosopher would not feel loss of her 1 
 
 Whose bosom these bright suiniy eyes would not thaw ? 
 Although I'm a game one, these little highwaymen 
 
 Have rifled the heart of poor Mnjor M'Craw. 
 
 Cook sail'd round the world, and Commodore Anson 
 
 The wonders he met with has noted down duly ; 
 But Cook, nor yet Anson, could e'er light by chance on 
 
 A beauty like Lady Lucretia Gilhooly. 
 Let astronomer asses still peep through their glasses. 
 
 Then tell all the stars and the planets they saw ; 
 Damn Georgium Sidus ! We've Venus beside us. 
 
 And that is sufficient for Major M'Craw.
 
 i)'2 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Deliglited witli this mirtliful evening, the ilhistrious strangers, 
 before breaking nj), insisted that Ocloherty, the principal scarce 
 of its hilarity, should accompany them next day to the literary, 
 mercantile, and manufacturing city of Glasgow. Here the En- 
 sign was received in the most distinguished manner, not more 
 on account of the company in which he travelled, than of the 
 individual fame which had already found its way before him to 
 the capital of St. Mungo.* The party put up at the Buck's 
 Head, to the excellent hostess of which (Mrs. Jardine) the En- 
 sign addressed a pathetic sonnet at parting.t At the dinner 
 
 * St. Muiigo is the patron-saint of the City of Glasgow, and in the days of 
 Pii[)istiy, the Cathedral (admirably described by Scott, in " Rob Roy," and by 
 Lockhart, in the last volume of "Peter's Letters,") was dedicated to him. 
 The city arms of Glasgow consist of the representation of a bay-tree, a bird, 
 and a salmon with a ring in its mouth. Once upon a time (as the story-books 
 used to say — for they have become utilitarian, scientific, sermonizing, and 
 dull, of late years), there was an old gentleman of Glasgow with a young wife, 
 of whom he was jealous, without cause. One day, as they were crossing what 
 was then the only bridge over the Clyde, he annoyed her with inuendos which 
 at once shocked and irritated her. Taking off her wedding ring, and uppciil- 
 ing to an image of St. Mungo which stood in a niche on the bridge, she threw 
 the circlet into the water, exclaiming that, if she were innocent, the good saint 
 would prove it by restoring the ring. Some days after, having purchased a 
 salmon for dinner, the old man happened to be in the kitchen when the cook 
 was preparing it for the pot. The ring was found in the entrails of the fish, 
 the husband confessed the injustice of his suspicions, the wife was happy in 
 having her innocence thus establi.-jhed by a miracle, and, I dare say that, from 
 that time forth, the husband v^'as subdued and properly henpecked ! The peo- 
 ple of Glasgow, out of respect for his good deed, made Mungo their patron- 
 saint, atid the fish, holding a ring in his mouth, was forthwith added to their 
 city's arms. So runs the stoiy, at all events. — When Mrs. Siddons visited 
 Glasgow, at the height of her fame, a piece of plate was presented to her on 
 which were engraved the city-arms and this epigrammatic inscriptitm: — 
 " Bays from our tree you cannot gather, 
 No branch of it deserves the name — 
 So take it all ; call it a feather. 
 
 And place it in your cap of fame." — M. 
 
 t The Buck's-Head, in Glasgow, was a fine old-fashioned inn, between 
 twenty and thirty years ago. Lockhart (in his Peter's Letters) taking the 
 pseudo-Dr. Mom's to this house, makes him say — " Both I and my horse were 
 somewhat wearied with the journey, and the horns of a genuine Buck, proudly 
 projecting over the gateway of the hotel to which I had been directed, were to 
 me the most interesting features in the whole Trongate of Glasgow." It
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHEUTY. 53 
 
 given by the provost and magistrates, the Ensign attended in 
 full puiF, and was placed among the most illustrious guests, at 
 the upper end of the table. He sung, he joked, he spoke ; he 
 
 should be noticed that this Trongatc is the principal business street in the 
 Capital of the West, as Bailie Nicol Jaivie's fair city is called. In its glory, 
 when Odohcrty, Dr. IMorris, and the Austrian princes, were guests of the 
 Buck's-Head, that famous hostelrie was kept by a Mrs. Jardine, the Leviathan 
 of landladies, of wham and of her house, Moms speaketh thus: — "A capital 
 house. I begin to think our friend Tom's mode of choosing a hotel is not a 
 bad one. His selection is generally regulated by the weight and dimensions 
 of the different hosts, well judging that the landlord who exhibits the most un- 
 questionable marks of good living in his own person, is the most likely to affoi'd 
 it to his guests. Upon this principle of choice, I apprehend the Buck's-Head 
 is entitled to a preference over most houses of entertainment in the kingdom. 
 The precise weight of Mrs. Jardine, the landlady, I certainly do not pretend to 
 know, and certainly believe it to be something under that of the Durham 
 Ox. But the size and rotundity of her person so greatly exceed the usual di- 
 mensions of the human frame, that were they subjected to that rule of arithme- 
 tic, entitled ]\Ien.suraiio7i of Solids, I am very sure the result would be some- 
 thing extraordinary. Her jollity and good humor, however, make her an uni- 
 versal favorite ; and I can bear witness that her inmates have no cause to 
 complain either of bad cheer or want of attention. I flatter myself I stand 
 pretty well in her good graces; and, in consequence, am fi-equently invited to 
 eat a red herriyi^ in the back parlor, and take a glass out of what she calls her 
 ain bottle. The bottle contains not the worst stuff in the world, I assure you. 
 It is excellent Burgundy, and the red hemng commonly turns out to be a su- 
 perb chop eti papilotte." — The portly landlady of the Buck's-Head was by no 
 means pleased with this notice of her ponderosity, and published a card in the 
 newspapers, in which, to show that she was not as stout as Dr. Moms stated 
 her to be, her weight was stated at onl)/ twenty-two stone, or three hundred and 
 eight potinds ! — The modest manner in which an excellent luncheon is desig- 
 nated as a mere trifle, is common in, and peculiar to Scotland. The first time 
 I visited Edinburgh (one of the most picturesque cities in the world, and only 
 eclipsed in beauty perhaps by Venice and Oxford), I wns invited "just to step in 
 about nine, and take an egg for supper." But I found that the egg was a sumptuous 
 repast, in which Dee salmon, Edinburgh oysters. Finnan baddies (or haddocks), 
 Fife crabs, brandered fowl, grouse-soup, beef collops, mutton chops, veal cutlets, 
 and game ad lihitnm covered the table; — there were no eggs, however, ex- 
 cept in the lobster salad. Apropos of chops, en papillate, as mentioned by Dr. 
 Morris, I think he mistook the dish; — not mutton chops, but veal cutlets are 
 cooked in paper. The process preserves the juices much better than Soycr's 
 wasteful one of skewering three cutlets together, and roasting the 7uass by a 
 clear red fire until the two outer pieces are burned, and then serving up the 
 middle cutlet, which is untarnished by the fire, but done to a nicety. It is an
 
 54 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 was the sine qua non of tlic meeting. At the collation prepared 
 for the imperial party by the Professors of the University, he 
 made himself equally agreeable ; and indeed, upon both of 
 these occasions, laid the foundations of several valuable friend- 
 ships, which only terminated with his existence. Among his 
 MSS. we have found a paper which purports to contain the 
 words oi a, progrcwima affixed to the gate of the college, on the 
 morning preceding the visit of the Archdukes. We shall not 
 hesitate to transcribe this fragment, although, from our ignorance 
 of the style and ceremonial observed on similar occasions by the 
 Scottish universities, we are not able to vouch for its authenti- 
 city. The Ensign kept his papers in much disorder — seria mixta 
 jocis, as his Roman favorite expresses it. 
 Q. F. F. Q. S. 
 
 Senatus Academicus Togatis et non Togatis Salutem dat. — 
 Ab altissimo et potentissimo Principe Marchione de Douglas et 
 Clydesdale, certiores facti quod eorum altitudines imperiales 
 Archiduces Joannes et Ludovicus de Austria, hodie nos visita- 
 tione honor'are intendunt, hasce regulas enunciare quomodo om- 
 nes se sunt gerere placuit nobis, et quicunque eas non volunt 
 observare severrime puniti erunt postea. 
 
 Imo. Eorum altitudines imperiales Archiduces Joannes et 
 Ludovicus de Austria capient frigidam collationem in aula priori 
 cum principali et professoribus (cum togis suis) et quibusdam 
 generosis hominibus ex urbe et vicinitate, et signifero Docher- 
 tiade et alia sequela eorum circa horam meridianam, impensis 
 Facultatis. 
 
 2. Studentes qui barbas habent tondeaut et manus et facies 
 lavent sicuti in die dominico. 
 
 3. Studentes omnes indusia nitida induant velut cum Dux 
 Montis-Rosarum erat hie. 
 
 4. Studentes Theologiei nigras braccas et vestes et pallia de- 
 centia induant quasi ministri. 
 
 old joke in Scotland (^conveyed by Samuel Lover into his Handy Andy), that a 
 gentleman who partook of salrnon cutlets en papillote, and was asked how he 
 liked thein, answered that " The fish was very nice, but the skin rather tough!" 
 He had actually contrived io chew mid swallow the thin tmtgh paper in which 
 the fish was cooked!
 
 MEMOIR OF mor(;an odoherty. 56 
 
 5. Omnes studentes in casii sint vicleri per Archiduces et Mar- 
 chiones et honorabiles personas qui cum iis sunt ; et Hibernici 
 et Montani supra onania sibi oculum habeant et omnes pectantur. 
 
 6. Studentes duas lineas faciant deccnter et cum quiete intra 
 aulam priorem et aulam communem cum processio ambulat, et 
 juniores ni rideant cum peregrinos vident. 
 
 7. In aula communi Professor ***** (name illegible) qui 
 olim in Gallia fuit Francisce illis locutus erit nam Professor *** 
 est mortuus. 
 
 8. Deinde Aliquis ex Physicis semionem Anglicam pronun- 
 ciabit et Principalis Latine precabitur. 
 
 9. Sine strepitu dismissi estotis cum omnia facta sunt. 
 
 It is to be regretted that several leaves are a-wanting in the 
 Ensign's diarv, "which probably contained an account of the rest 
 of the tour which he performed in company with the scions of 
 the house of Hapsburg* Their custom of smoldng several 
 
 * These Archdukes of Austria were sons of the Emperor Leopold II. John, 
 bom in 1782, has achieved a name, and will be mcntioDod in history. In 1800, 
 on the retirement of the Archduke Charles, his elder brother, father of the 
 present Emperor (described by Napoleon as " the best general among the 
 Austrians, though he has committed a thousand faults"), the Arcliduke John 
 then but eighteen years old, was appointed to command the troops in the Ger- 
 man Empire in the struggle wilh France, but did not remain in that position 
 after the defeat at Hohenlinden, in December, 1800. Subsequently, after 
 taking some part in the war and in the administration of state-aifairs, he re- 
 tired to Styria, where, from a strong taste for letters, he endeavored to elevate 
 literature and art, by founding what continues to be an useful institution, the 
 Jobanneum at Gratz. Napoleon's i-etum from Elba, in 1815, called him from 
 his retirement. After the battle of Waterloo, the Archdukes John and Lewis 
 made a tour through Great Britain and Ireland. My venerable fiiend. Doctor 
 Francis, of New York, informs me that he was present in March, 1816, just 
 before the Archdukes left London, when the President of the Royal Society 
 of England (Sir Joseph Banks, the naturalist), admitted them as Fellows of 
 that body, by virtue of a Royal Mandate, which dispensed with the formality 
 and delay of their being proposed and ballotted for. When their names were 
 called by him, each of the princes rose in his place, and acknowledged the 
 compliment paid him. Returning to Austria in April, 1816, John fixed his 
 summer residence in the old romantic castle of Thurnberg, where be led the 
 unostentatious life of a country gentleman and man of letters, beloved by all 
 classes, but especially the man of the people, but distrusted (for his liiicrality) 
 by the Austrian government in 1828, he formed a morganatic marriage with the 
 daughter of the postmaster of Aussee — who is said to hiive first attracted his atten-
 
 56 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 pipes every evening after supper, took from him, it is not un- 
 likely, the leisure that might have been necessary for composing 
 a full narrative ; hut, ho^Yever slight his precis might have been, 
 its loss is to be regretted. The sketches of a master are of 
 more value than the most elaborate works of secondary hands. 
 The fragment of an Angelo surpasses the chef-d'ceuvres of a 
 "West; — but, to return — at Dublin, the festivities with which 
 the ariival of the party was celebrated, surpassed in splendor 
 and variety, as might be expected, every thing that had been 
 exhibited in the cities of Scotland. After spending several 
 days in a round of gayeties, the Archdukes set sail for Liver- 
 pool. Odoherty, from the pressure of his professional engage- 
 ments, found himself compelled to go no farther in the train of 
 the princely travellers. The parting was one of those scenes 
 which may be more easily imagined than described. Although 
 the Ensign lingered a day or two in the midst of the most bril- 
 liant society of Dublin — although he spent his mornings with 
 Philips,* and his evenings Avith Lady Morgan, his spmts did not 
 soon recover their usual tone and elasticity. The state of gloom 
 in which his mind was thus temporarily involved, extended no 
 
 lion by assuming the attire and actually performing the duty of a postillion, on 
 one occasion when the Archduke was anxious to proceed and the regular pos- 
 tillions were all absent. The marriage was a happy one, and its offspring is the 
 Count de Meran. In 1848, the tide of Revolution in Europe took the Archduke 
 John from his beloved mountain home in Styria into the arena of action. He 
 put an end (for the time) to a popular insurr(;ction in Vienna, on March 13, by 
 compelling Prince Metternich, long the virtual autocrat of Austria, to relin- 
 quish office and power, and retire into exile. Two months later, when the 
 Emperor Ferdinand I., abandoned Vienna and went to Innspruck, John acted 
 as his deputy in the capital, and endeavored to restore tranquillity. The Ger- 
 man Assembly at Frankfort, considering him as a prince at once popular and 
 independent, made him Regent of Germany, in June, 1848. He might have 
 erected a throne for himself, on the ruins of the old feudalities, but was con- 
 tent with conservatively employing the vast powers intrusted to him as a re- 
 former. In 1851, long after the Frankfort Assembly had been dispersed, and 
 when despotism was re-established in Germany, John resigned his power, and 
 retired into that private life which so much deliglited him. — M. 
 
 * Of Charles Phillips, the Irish orator (in the very fulness of his fame, in 
 1818, when Magiiin wrote this chapter), and of Lady Morgan, the well-known 
 Irish writer, more extended notices shall be given by-and-bye, on a more suit- 
 able occaaion than this mere mention of their names in the text. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 57 
 
 inconsiderable portion of its influence to his muse. We do not 
 wish to extend this article beyond the allowable limit ; but we 
 must make room for a single specimen of the dark effusions 
 which at this epoch flowed from the gay, the giddy, Odoherty. 
 
 THE ENGLISH SAILOR AND THE KING OF ACHEN'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 A Talc of Terror* 
 
 Come, listen Gentles all, 
 And Ladies unto me. 
 And you shall be told of a Sailoi- bold 
 As ever sail'd on Sea. 
 
 'Twas in the month of May, 
 Sixteen hundred sixty and four. 
 We sallied out, both fresh and stout, 
 In the good ship Swift-sure. 
 
 With wind and weather fair 
 We sail'd from Plymouth Sound, 
 And the Line we crossed, and the Cape we pass'd, 
 Being to China bound. 
 
 And we sail'd by Sunda Isles, 
 And Ternate and Tydore, 
 Till the wind it lagg'd, and our sails they flagg'd. 
 In sight of Aehen's shore. 
 
 Becalm'd, days three times three. 
 We lay in th' burning sun ; 
 Our Water we drank, and our Meat it stank. 
 And our Bisuuits were well nigh done. 
 
 Oh ! then 'twas an awful sight 
 Our Seamen for to behold. 
 Who t'other day were so fresh and gay, 
 ' And their hearts as stout as gold. 
 
 But now our hands they shook. 
 And our cheeks were yellow and lean — 
 Our faces all long, and our nerves unstrung, 
 And loose and squalid our skin. 
 
 And we walk'd up and down the deck 
 As long as our legs could bear us ; 
 
 * This imitation of Monk Lewis's " Tales of Wonder," and of part of Cole- 
 ridge's " Ancient Mariner," has something of the flavor of the quaint ballad, 
 called " As I sailed, as I sailed," in which are recorded the piratical deeds 
 and pendulous exit of Cajitain Kyd. — M. 
 
 3*
 
 58 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 And we thirsted all, but no rain would fall, 
 And no dews arise to cheer us. 
 
 But the red red Sun from the sky 
 Lent his scorching- beams all day, 
 Till our tongues, through drought, hung out of our mouth, 
 And we had no voice to pray. 
 
 And the hot hot air from the South 
 Did lie on our lungs all night 
 As if the grim Devil, with his mouth full of evil. 
 Had blown on our troubled Sprite. 
 
 At last, so it happ'd one night. 
 When we all in our hammocks lay. 
 Bereft of breath, and expecting death 
 To come ere break of day. 
 
 On a sudden a cooling breeze 
 Shook the hammock where I was lain; 
 And then, by Heaven's grace, I felt on my face 
 A drop of blessed rain. 
 
 I open'd my half-closed eyes. 
 And my mouth I open'd it wide 
 And I started with joy, from my hammock so high. 
 And " A breeze, a breeze !" I cried. 
 
 But no man heard me cry, 
 And the breeze again fell down ; 
 And a clap of Thunder, with fear and wonder 
 Nigh cast me in a swound. 
 
 I dared not look around. 
 Till, by degrees grown bolder, 
 I saw a grim sprite, by the moon's pale light, 
 Dim glimmering at my shoulder. 
 
 He was drest in a Seamen's jacket, 
 Wet trowsers, and dripping hose, 
 And an unfelt wind, I heard behind. 
 That whistled among his clothes. 
 
 I look'd at him by the light of the stars, 
 1 look'd by the light of the moon. 
 And I saw, though his face was cover'd with scars, 
 John Jewkes, my Sister's Son. 
 
 " Alas ! John Jewkes," I cried, 
 " Poor boy, what brings thee here ?" 
 But nothing he said, but hung down his head. 
 And made his bare scull appear.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 69 
 
 Then I, by my grief grown bold, 
 "To take his hand endeavor'd, 
 But his head he turned round, which a gaping wound 
 Had nigli from his shoulders sever'd. 
 
 He opened his mouth to speak, 
 Like a man with his last breath struggling. 
 And, before every word, in his throat was heard 
 A horrible misguggling. 
 
 At last, with a broken groan, 
 He gurgled, " Approach not me ! 
 For the Fish have my head, and the Indians my blood, 
 'Tis only my Ghost you see. 
 
 " And dost thou not remember, 
 Three j'ears ago to-day, 
 How at Aunt's we tarried, when Sister was married 
 To Farmer Robin, pray ? 
 
 " Oh ! then we were blythe and jolly, 
 But none of us all had seen, 
 While we sung and we laugh'd, and the stout ale quaff 'd, 
 That our number was thirteen. 
 
 " And none of all the party. 
 At the head of the table, saw, 
 While our cares we drown'd, and the flagon went round, 
 Old Goody Martha Daw. 
 
 " But Martha she was there, 
 Though she never spake a word ; 
 And by her sat her old black cat. 
 Though it never cried or pun-'d. 
 
 " And she lean'd on her oaken crutch, 
 And a bundle of sticks she broke, 
 And her prayers backward mutter'd, and the Devil's words utter'd. 
 Though she never a word out spoke. 
 
 " 'Twas on a Thursday morn. 
 That very day was se'nnight, 
 I ran to sweet Sue, to bid her adieu. 
 For I could not stay a minute. 
 
 " Then crying with words so tender, 
 She gave me a true lover's locket. 
 That I still might love her, forgetting her never— 
 So I put it in my pocket, 
 
 " And then we kiss'd and parted, 
 And knew not, all the while.
 
 60 THP] ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 That Martha was nigh, on her broomstick so high, 
 Looking down with a devilish smile. 
 
 " So I went to sea again, 
 With my heart brim-full of Sue ; 
 Though my mind misgave me, the salt waters would have me, 
 And I'd take my last adieu. 
 
 " We made a prosperous voyage 
 Till we came to this fatal coast, 
 When a stomi it did rise, in seas and in skies, 
 That we gave ourselves up for lost. 
 
 " Our vessel it was stranded 
 All on the shoals of Achen, 
 And all then did die, save only I, 
 And I hardly saved my bacon. 
 
 " It liapp'd that very hour, 
 The Black King walking by 
 Did see me sjirawling, on hands and knees crawling, 
 And took to his palace hard by. 
 
 " And finding that I was 
 A likely lad for to see. 
 My bones well knit, and my joints well set. 
 And not above twenty-three, 
 
 " He made me his gardener boy. 
 To sow pease and potatoes, 
 To water his flovi'ers, when there were no showers. 
 And cut his parsley and lettuce. 
 
 " Now it so fell out on a Sunday 
 (Which these Pagans never keep holy), 
 I was gathering rue, and thinking on Sue, 
 With a heart full of melancholy, 
 
 " When the King of Achen's Daughter 
 Did open her casement to see ; 
 And, as she look'd round on the gooseberry ground, 
 Her eyes they lit upon me ; 
 
 " Ajid seeing me tall and slim, 
 And of shape right personable ; 
 My skin so white, and so very unlike 
 The blacks at her Father's table, 
 
 " She took it into her head 
 (For so the Devil did move her), 
 That I in good sooth, was a comely youth, 
 And would make a gallant Lover.
 
 MEMOm OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 61 
 
 " So she tripp'd from her chaiiibor so high, 
 All in silks and satins clad, 
 And her gown it rustled, as down she hustled, 
 With steps like a Princess sad. 
 
 " Her shoes they were dcck'd with pearls. 
 And her hair with diamonds glisten'd. 
 And her gimcracks and toys, they made such a noise, 
 My mouth water'd the while I listen'd. 
 
 " Then she tempted me with glances, 
 And with sugar'd words so tender, 
 (And tho' she was black, she was straight in the back, 
 And young, and tall, and slender — ) 
 
 " But I my Love remember'd. 
 And the locket she did give me. 
 And resolv'd to be true to my darling Sue, 
 As she did ever believe me. 
 
 " Whereat the Princess wax'd 
 Both furious and angry. 
 And said, she was sure I had some Paramour 
 In kitchen or in laundry. 
 
 "And then, with a devilish grin. 
 She said, ' Give me your locket' — 
 But I damn'd her for a Witch, and a conjiu-ing Bitch, 
 And kept it in my pocket. 
 
 " Howbeit, both day and night 
 She did tortm-e and torment. 
 And said she, ' If you'll yield to me the field, 
 ' I'll give thee thy heart's content. 
 
 " ' But give me up the locket, 
 ' And stay three months with me, 
 ' And then, if the will remains with you still, 
 ' I'll ship you oif to sea." 
 
 " So I thought it the only way * 
 To behold my lovely Sue, 
 And the thoughts of Old England, they made my heart tingle, and 
 I gave up the locket so true. 
 
 " Thereon she laugh'd outright 
 With a hellish grin, and I saw 
 That the Princess was gone, and in her room 
 There stood old Martha Daw. 
 
 " She was all astride a Broomstick, 
 And bid me get up behind ;
 
 62 . THE ODOHERTY PAPERS, 
 
 So my wits being lost, the Broomstick I crossVl, 
 And away we flew, swift as the wind. 
 
 " But my head it soon turn'd giddy, 
 I reel'd and lost my balance. 
 So I tumbled over, like a perjur'd lover, 
 A warning to all gallants. 
 
 " And there where I tumbled down 
 The Indians found me lying; 
 My head they cut off, and my blnod did quaff, 
 And set my flesh afrying. 
 
 " Hence, all ye English gallants, 
 A warning take by me. 
 Your true love's locket to keep in your pocket 
 Whenever you go to sea. 
 
 "And, oh dear uncle Thomas, 
 I come to give you warning. 
 As then 'twas my chance with Davy to dance, 
 'Twill be yours to-morrow morning. 
 
 " 'Twas three years agone this night. 
 Three years gone clear and clean. 
 Since we sat down at Aunt's at the wedding to dance, 
 And our number was thirteen. 
 
 " Now I and sister Nan, 
 (Two of that fatal party) 
 Have both gone from Aunt's, with Davy to dance, 
 Tho' then we were hale and hearty. 
 
 " And, as we both have died, 
 (I speak it with grief and soitow — ) 
 At the end of each year, it now is cleai 
 That you should die to-morrow. 
 
 " But if, good uncle Thomas, 
 You'll promise, and jiromise truly. 
 To plough the main for England again, 
 And perform my orders duly, 
 
 " Old Davy will allow you 
 Another year to live. 
 To visit your friends, and make up your odd ends, 
 And your enemies forgive. 
 
 " But friend, when you reach Old England, 
 To Laure'ston town you'll go, 
 And then to the Mayor, in open fair, 
 Impeach old Martha Daw,
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 63 
 
 " And next j'ou'll see her liaiigM 
 With the halter around her throat ; 
 And, when void of life, with your clasp knife 
 The string- of her apron cut. 
 
 " Then, if that you determine 
 My last desires to do, 
 In her left hand pocket, you'll find the locket, 
 And carry it to Sue." 
 
 The grisly Spectre thus 
 In mournful accents spoke, 
 By which time, being; morning, he gave me no warning, 
 But vanish'd in sulphur and smoke. 
 
 Next day there sprang up a breeze, 
 And our ship began to tack. 
 And for fear of the Ghost, we left the coast, 
 And saii'd for England back. 
 
 And I being come home. 
 Did all his words pursue ; 
 Old Mnrtha likewise was hung at the 'size. 
 And I carried the locket to Sue. 
 
 And now, being tired of life, 
 I make up my mind to die ; 
 But I thought this stoiy I'd lay before ye, 
 For the good of Posterity. 
 
 Oh never then sit at table 
 When the number is thirteen ; 
 And, lest witches be there, put salt in your beer. 
 And scrape your platters clean. 
 
 This " Tale of Terror" was composed at tlie express request 
 of a distinguished female, nearly related (by maniage and gen- 
 ius) to its no less distinguished author. — In return, this match- 
 less female christened a lovely and promising boy, of whom she 
 was delivered, during the stay of the Ensign, after the name of 
 Odoherty ; an appellation, the ideas suggested by which, will 
 be agreeable, or otherwise, to its bearer, according as he shall, 
 in future years, inherit or not inherit, some portion of the genius 
 in whose honor it was originally conferred. Of the various gen- 
 et?iliaca composed upon the occasion, the most admired was the 
 following : —
 
 64 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 TO THE CHILD OF CORINNA ! 
 
 Oh, boy! may the wit of thy niDthcr awaking 
 
 On thy dewy lip tremble, when years have gone by, 
 
 While the fire of Odoherty, fervidly breaking, . 
 
 In glances and gleams, may illume thy young eye. 
 
 Oh ! then such a fulness of power shall be seen 
 With the graces so blending, in union endearing, 
 
 That angels shall glide o'er the ocean green. 
 
 To catch a bright glimpse of tlie glory of Erin ! 
 
 Oh ! sure such a vision of beauty and might, 
 Commingling, in splendor, by him was exprest 
 
 The old Lydian sculptor, the delicate sprite. 
 That in Venus' soft girdle his Hercules drest. 
 
 On his return to Edinburgh, we find the indefatigable mind 
 of the Ensign earnestly engaged in laying the plan and prepar- 
 ing the materials for a weekly paper, upon the model of the 
 Tatler, the Spectator, and the Saleroom.* His vieM^s in regard 
 to this pubhcation were never fully realised ; but we have open 
 before us, a drawer which contains a vast accumulation of notes 
 and esquisses connected with it. We insert a few of the shortest 
 in the meantime, and may perhaps quote a few dozens of them 
 hereafter. 
 
 I. 
 
 There is nothing in this world more likely to produce a good 
 understanding in families and neighborhoods, than a resolution 
 to be immediately entered into by all the several members of 
 the same, never again, from this time forward, upon any occasion 
 or pretence whatever, in speech or writing, to use the monosyl- 
 lable I. This will no doubt cause some trouble and incon- 
 
 * There is no need of characterizing the first two of these periodicals. The 
 Salc-Room existed (it did not flourish) in 1817, and appropriately emanated, 
 in Edinburgh, from the premises of John Ballantyne, who became an auc- 
 tioneer after his ceasing to be Scott's publisher. The metrical essay called 
 "The Sultan of Serendib, or the Search after Happiness," first appeared in 
 The Sale-Room, with other contributions of less note from Scott's pen. It is 
 a humorous poem on the old story of the Sultan, as a cure for low spirits, being' 
 ordered to wear the shirt of the happiest man in his dominions — of a gay and 
 I'eckless Irishman being selected as the happiest — and of its turning out, when 
 they had stripped him, to obtain the desiderated garment, that he did not 
 possess, and therefore could not wear, one ! — M.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 65 
 
 veiiiences at first, especially to those who are not half so 
 ntmiatc with any other pronoun ; but by the help of a small 
 penalty, to be strictly levied upon every transgression, that will 
 soon be got over, and this most wicked and pernicious monosyl- 
 lable effectually banished from the world. The Golden Age 
 will then re-descend on earth, and many other things will hap- 
 pen, of the particulars of which the curious reader may satisfy 
 himself, by referring to Virgil's Eclogue. Among the most in- 
 teresting circumstances of this great revolution, which, however, 
 is not specified in the place referred to, will be the total aboli- 
 tion of both metallic and paper currency. Money will he no 
 more. Those that have will give to those that want : and the 
 redundant popiilation will not, on having the matter properly 
 explained to them, object to removing themselves by some con- 
 venient and gentle method of suicide, rendering war, famine, 
 pestilence, and misery (so politely called by Mr. Malthus* by 
 
 * Thomas Robert Maldius, an English clergyman, was born in 1766, and 
 died in 1835. In his "Essay on the Principle of Population," he contended 
 that the Divine command to " increase and multiply" was a mandate for the 
 destruction of human happiness, and that instead of its being better (as St. Paul 
 has it) to " marry than burn," it is better to burn than marry ! His anti-connubial 
 system was founded on the hypothesis, that population increases in a geomet- 
 rical, while provisions only increase in an arithmetical ratio. He argued, there- 
 fore, that an increase of people should always follow, and never precede, an 
 increase in the produce of the soil. This reasoning (said Mr. Weyland, who 
 refuted him), " when applied to a manufacturing society, appears to be tanta- 
 mount to saying that an increase in the nurnber of backs should always follow, 
 and never precede, an increase in the manufacture of coats ; whereas, surely 
 a previous increase of wearers and consumers is absolutely necessary to the 
 respective proportion of further food and raiment." When Byron said, " With- 
 out cash, Malthus tells us, take no wives," he hit off the gist of the Malthusian 
 argument. In another part of " Don Juan," the poet, in very plain language, 
 shows the difference between the theory and the practice of philosophy — 
 
 "And Malthus does the thing 'gainst which he writes" — 
 for not only did Malthus marry but actually had some ten or twelve children ! His 
 population-views were very unpopular, and may now be considered exploded. 
 Adam Smith contended, in his Wealth of Nations, that it is impossible, for the 
 human race to multiply beyond the means of subsistence. M. T. Sadler, who 
 answered Malthus, may be said to have proved this. Malthus insists that over 
 population is to be dreaded — that, therefore, all parish assistance to children, 
 both legitimate and illegitimate, should be legally prohibited — that it is the 
 duty of the rich to withhold all increase of the comforts of the poor, lest it
 
 QQ THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the somewhat endearing term, clicclcs), utterly unnecessary. 
 Who would not wish to accelerate to mankind the approach of 
 this blessed era ? The simple and sure means are above stated ; 
 and if the world does not forthwith proceed to make itself happy, 
 it can no longer shelter itself imder the pretence of not knowing 
 how to set about it. 
 
 11. 
 
 Of all the natural sciences, that of Scandal has been the most 
 universally ciiltivated in every civilized country, and the most 
 successfully in our own. Modern scandalographers have com- 
 prised it under two great divisions, open or direct scandal, and 
 implied or indirect scandal. 
 
 Instances of the first are now less common in society than 
 formerly. This perhaps arises more from an artificial refinement 
 in our manners, than from any real refinement in our minds. 
 There still exist many who would not hesitate, under favorable 
 circumstances, to make use of the direct scandal ; and there are 
 many more who would not be ashamed to listen to it. But in 
 all circles, whether public or private, there are, for the most 
 part, three or four men and women, who are as different from 
 the surrounding mass of starched neck-cloths and satin slips, 
 " as red wine is from Rhenish." These humane and gentle 
 beings check the growth of direct scandal, which, notwithstand- 
 ing the fostering care of its vulgar disciples, is generally " no 
 sooner blown than blasted." Being prevented from lifting its 
 malignant head into the liberal air, it strikes downward, and, 
 spreading its obscure ramifications under ground, gives rise to 
 the indirect or implied scandal. 
 
 This is the more dangerous kind, in as far as it is more difii- 
 cult to eradicate or guard against it. In polished society, where 
 
 should encourage them to marry — and, in the first edition of his book he had 
 the following passage (so odious that he was compelled to expunge it in all sub- 
 sequent publications): — "A man, who is born into a world already possessed, 
 if he cannot get subsistence from his parents, and if society do not want liis 
 labor, has no claim of light to the smallest portion of food, and, in fact, has no 
 business to be where he is. At Nature's mighty feast there is no vacant cover 
 ready for him. She tells him to be gone, and will quickly execute her own 
 orders!" — Such is Malthusian humanity and philosophy, — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 67 
 
 it most frequently occurs, it has neither a local habitation nor a 
 name. It is " an airy tongue, that syllables men's names," 
 without pronouncing them distinctly ; and the labor of the met- 
 aphysical chemist has been unequal to the discovery of any sure 
 test for its detection. It is also, on that account, more fondly 
 cherished by the disciples of the science, because the practical 
 gratification arising from it is in consequence so much the 
 greater. Thus a scandalous assertion, if made directly, can not 
 be frequently repeated, because the mode of its expression ad- 
 mits of little varfety ; whereas your implied scandal is capable 
 of being varied almost infinitely, and thus affords a pleasant and 
 continued opportunity of showing off to advantage the ingenuity 
 of the malicious man, withovit vexing the dull ear of the drowsy 
 one. Under the name of personal talk, it may be regarded as 
 constituting the essence of conversation in society at the present 
 period. " 
 
 III. 
 
 There are few subjects on which men differ so much as in 
 regard to Blue Stockings. I believe that the majority of lit- 
 erary men look upon them as entirely useless. Yet a little re- 
 flection will serve us to show the unphilosophical nature of this 
 opinion. There seems, indeed, to be a system of exclusive ap- 
 propriation in literature, as well as in law, which cannot be too 
 severely reprobated. A critic of the present day cannot hear a 
 yomig woman make a harmless observation on poetry or poli- 
 tics without starting ; which start, I am inclined to think, pro- 
 ceeds from affectation, considering how often he must have heard 
 the same remark made on former occasions. Ought the female 
 sex to be debarred from speaking nonsense on literary matters 
 any more than the men ? I think not. Even supposing that 
 such privilege was not originally conferred by a law of nature, 
 they have certainly acquired right to it by the long prescription. 
 Besides, if common-place remarks were not daily and nightly 
 rendered more common-place by continual repetition, even a 
 man of original mind might run the hazard of occasionally so far 
 forgetting himself and his subject, as to record an idea which, 
 upon more mature deliberation, might be found to be no idea at
 
 68 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 all. This, I contend, is prevented by tlie judicious interference 
 of tlie fair sex. 
 
 At tlie same time, " a highly polished understanding," in an 
 ugly woman, is a thing rather to be deprecated than otherwise. 
 A pretty girl may say what she chooses, and be " severe in youth- 
 ful beauty" with impunity, for no one wUl interrupt her solely 
 to criticise the color of her stockings ; but I think that a plain 
 one should reflect seriously before she " cultivates her mind as- 
 siduously." 
 
 IV. 
 
 One solitary death's head, all of a sudden grinning on us in 
 our own bed-room, would be a much more trying sight than 
 milHons of skulls piled up into good large houses of three stories. 
 Architecture of- that kind is less impressive than could be imag- 
 ined. There is a tolerable specimen of it at Mucruss Abbey, 
 Killarney ;* but the effect is indifferent. Skulls, somehow or 
 other, do not build well. Perhaps they would look better in 
 mortar. As they are arranged at Mucniss Abbey, they look 
 like great clusters of the wax of ' the humble-bee ; and after 
 heavy rain, the effect of the water dripping from the jaw-bones 
 and eye-holes is rather ludicrous than pathetic. They are all 
 in the melting mood at one time, and apparently for no sufficient 
 reason ; while the extreme unifonnity of their expression may, 
 without much impropriety, be said to be quite monotonous. It 
 may be questioned if a stranger, unacquainted with this order 
 of architecture, would, at first sight, perceive the nature of its 
 material. Perhaps he would, for a while, see the likeness of 
 one or two skulls only, and wonder how they got there ; till, by 
 degrees, the whole end-wall would laughably break out, as it 
 were, into a prodigious number of vacant faces, and wholly de- 
 stroy the solemnity of that otherwise impressive religious edi- 
 fice. Yet it is not to be thought that an Irishman could contem- 
 plate such a skullery with unmoved imagination. Where be all 
 their brogue and all their bulls now ! A silent gable-end of 
 O'Donohues and Maggillicuddies ! Walls with long arms — 
 
 * For a grapliic account of Muciuss Abbey, at Killarney, including the array 
 of skulls here mentionerl, the reader is referred to Mrs. S. C. Hall's " Ireland," 
 vol. i. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHEUTY. 69 
 
 but sans eyes, sans nose, sans ears, sans brains ! A mockery of 
 the live population of the county Kerry ! A cairn of skulls 
 erected over the dry bones of the buried independence of the 
 south of Ireland ! Yes, thanks to the genius of the Lake of Eal- 
 larney, there is not here the skull of a single absentee.* 
 
 If the reader has ever been in the kingdom of Dahomey, he 
 will remember the avenue leading up to the king's palace. For 
 nearly a mile, it is lined on each side by a wall of skulls twenty 
 feet high ; and how nobly one comes at last on the skull pal- 
 ace ! Yet the scene cloys on the spectator. One comes at last 
 to be insensible to the likeness between the head on his own 
 shoulders and those that compose the skull-work of the royal 
 residence; and he might forget it entirely, were it not that he 
 occasionally sees a loose skull replaced by a head belonging, the 
 night before, to one of his friends. It is understood that the 
 present king of Dahomey is about to remove these walls, and 
 distribute the old materials throvTgh his kingdom, now greatly in 
 want of inclosures. There is also some talk of taking down the 
 ancestral palace itself, and of building another of fresh skulls. 
 It is calculated that three hundred thousand adult skulls, and 
 three hundred thousand infant ones, will be sufficient for a very 
 handsome palace ; and fifty thousand annually have been clieer- 
 fxdly subscribed for six years. It Avill be finished, most probably, 
 about the same time with the college of Edinburgh ; and report 
 speaks highly of the beauty and grandeur of the elevation. 
 
 * It is a creditable fact that (with the exception of the Marquis of Laiis- 
 downe, an English peer) the princiiial landlords in the county of Kerry reside 
 on their estates — and this in the teeth of J. R. M'Culloch, the political econo- 
 mist, who argues that Absenteeism really cannot injure a country, for that, 
 though the rents may be sent to the landlord, even in China, and there ex- 
 pended by him, it is all the same in the end, as the money gets into circula- 
 tion, and, by the good it thus confers, benefits the absentee landlord'.s tenants — 
 remotely! If my Irish tenants pay me a thousand pounds a year, and that I 
 spend none of that money among them — in exchange for the labor and food 
 which they can supply to my exigencies — it is surely no consolation for them 
 to know that I disburse it, in exchange for other food and labor, in America. 
 But M'Culloch's doctrine is, that it makes no difference where the money is 
 spent! — I have written this note, because Dr. Maginn felt a lively interest in 
 this question of Absenteeism, and used to argue strongly against what Col)bett 
 used to call "the feelosophy of M'Culloch." — M
 
 70 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 From Mucruss and Dahomey tlie transition is easy and natu- 
 ral to the catacombs of Paris. They are on a larger scale, and 
 consequently so much the less terrifying. One " skull by itself 
 skull" may be no joking matter ; but after remaining unmolested 
 for a few minutes among some billions of pericraniums, we come 
 to feel a sovei-eign contempt of the whole defunct world, and 
 would not care a straw though a dozen of them were to jump 
 down and attempt to kick our shins. One takes out a skull, and 
 puts it back again into its place, just as one would a common 
 book from the shelves of a library ; and what is far worse, every 
 skull is vtrhatim et literatim the same empty performance, and, 
 not being bound in Russia leather, worm-eaten through and 
 through. A man in the catacombs may indeed be said to be in 
 a brown study.* 
 
 A night passed in a vaulted cell, with one or even two skele- 
 tons, especially if they were well known to have been able-bodied 
 men when alive, might well occasion a cold sweat, and make the 
 hair to stand on end. There would be something like equal terms 
 there, one quick against two dead ; and no man of spirit could 
 refuse the encounter, though the odds were against him, guineas 
 to pounds. A ring would have to be formed, the odd ghost-bot- 
 tle holder and umpire. But in a populous Place of Skulls — a 
 Craniopolis like the catacombs, containing so enormous an " in- 
 habitation," that no regular census has ever been made — any 
 accidental visitor might contrive, surely, to while aAvay a few 
 hours without much rational perturbation, and unless very much 
 disposed indeed to pick a quarrel, might suffer the thigh-bones 
 to lie at rest, as pieces of ornamental furniture, never intended 
 to be wielded as weapons either of offensive or defensive war- 
 fare. 
 
 A night passed in a small, black, bleak, musty old church, 
 not far from the catacombs, would be worse by far than the cat- 
 
 ^ This hint of a storywas subsequently acted on, and a very powerful sketch, 
 describing a Night in the Catacombs appeared, soon after, in Blackwood. — At 
 present [1855], and for several years, there has not been any admission for 
 visiters to ihe Catacombs of Paris, which, however, are by no means so inter- 
 esting (from religious and historical associations) as the Catacombs of flome, 
 a reliable account of which, as illustrating the Church of the first three centu- 
 ries, has been written by Dr. Kip, Missionary Bishop of California. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY, 71 
 
 acombs themselves. One ■would sit tliere full of the aljstract 
 image of skulls ; and, beyond all doubt, several skulls would 
 come tnmdling m during- the course of the night. Of old, when 
 a hero was dubbed knight, he sat up during the dark hours in a 
 church, where an occasional ghost or two might touch him, when 
 gliding by, with its icy fingers. It would have required but a 
 small share of chivalrous feeling, to have kept watch in an in- 
 trenchment of skulls, seemingly impregnable. It asks more 
 courage to fight the champion of an army in single combat, than 
 to dash into the lines. 
 
 CHAPTER v.* 
 
 Visitors to the Tent — Dr. and Mis. Mngnus Oglethorpe — Their Reception 
 by the Contributors — Mrs. M'Whirter, late of Philadelphia — The Lady 
 Recngiiizos Odoherty — Amiciibie Relations Renewed — Tiie Doctor's Lec- 
 ture — His Lady's Popularity — Odoherty's Hong — '"The Powldoodics of 
 Burnin ;" a M'Whirter Chant — The Last of the Widow. 
 
 The toils of the day were now near a close, and the Editor 
 with his Contributors were about to leave the Tent for an even- 
 
 * In order to gratify such readers as may take an interest in the personal 
 history of Odoherty, I have here introduced, a little out of place and lime, an 
 account of his meeting, in Scotland, with his old flame, Mrs. M'Whirter, the 
 fair Irish widow, whilom of Philadelphia. It will he seen, by reference to a 
 preceding portion of his Life (p. 18), that Odoherty quitted this lady, without 
 beat of drum, after they had lived together, for some time, on tenns of the 
 closest intimacy. This desertion took place about 1815. In Blackwood's 
 Magazine, for September, 1819, is a pleasant and right merry account of a 
 great meeting (in a capacious Tent on the Earl of Fife's moors, at the head 
 of the river Dee, near Braemar, in Scotland,) of the Editor and the elite of 
 his contributors. Of this band Odoherty was one, and greatly contributed ijy 
 his eloquence, fun, learning, fishing, shooting, coursing, good temper, wit, jounch- 
 making, and punch-drinking, social feilowshiji, song-making, and song-sing- 
 ing, to the conviviality of the occasion. At the close of the first day's sport, 
 speechmaking, singing, feasting, fumigating, and imbibing, the rencontre oc- 
 curred, as narrated (no doubt by Odoherty's own pen), in what I have ven- 
 tured to print as Chapter V. Odoherty's liaison with Mrs. M'Whirt(^r is so 
 frequently referred to, in the Noctes Ambrosian-ce, and in dififerent articles 
 froin Maginn's pen, that this conijlusion of it appears indispensable. — M.
 
 <2 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 ing-walk along the Dee and its " bonny banks of blooming heath- 
 er," to indulge the most delightful of all feelings, such, namely, 
 as arise from the consciousness of having past our time in a way 
 not only agreeable to ourselves, but useful to the whole of the 
 wide-spread family of man, when John Mackay* came bouncing 
 in upon us like a grasshopper, " Gots my life, here are twa unco 
 landloupers cumin dirdin down the hill — the tane o' them a 
 heech knock-kneed stravaiger wi' the breeks on, and the tither, 
 ane o' the women-folk, as roun's she lang, in a green Joseph, and 
 a tappen o' feathers on her pow." 
 
 At the Avord " women-folk," each Contributor 
 
 " Sprang upwards like a pyramid of fii-e ;" 
 
 and we had some difficulty in preventing a sally from the Tent. 
 " Remember, gentlemen," quoth we, " that you are still mader 
 literary law — be seated." We ourselves, as master of the cer- 
 emonies, went out, and lo ! we beheld two most extraordinary 
 Itinerants. 
 
 The gentleman who was dressed in brown-once-black, had a 
 sort of medico-theological exterior — which we afterward found 
 to be representative of the inward man. He was very tall, and 
 
 * John Mackay flourished, in those days, as a caddy, in the city of Edin- 
 burgli. The caddies, a race of men peculiar to Auld Reekie, are descnbed by 
 Lockhart as a race " set apart, and destined ab ovo, for climbing stair-cases, 
 and carrying messages." The stock originally came, and is re-inforced, from 
 the rugged wilds of Lochaber and Braemar. Men accustomed to ascend the 
 brow of Cairngorm and Ben-Nevis have the same light elastic spring up the 
 many-staired-ascent of the tall houses of Ediitburgh. Use and familiarity make 
 them minutely familiar with every stair-case, every house, every family, and 
 every individual in Edinburgh. In Smollett's Book of the Expedition of 
 Humphrey Clinker their deeds arc writ. Their own dialect is Gaelic mingled 
 with a barbarous patois which is a coiTuption of such English as is spoken in 
 the East and Southeast of Scotland. They can take any quantity of snuff — 
 high-dried Scotch snuff so strong that a pinch of it would make a sti'unger 
 almost sneeze the roof off his head. They are active when at work, but luxu- 
 riate in laziness when off duty, smoking tobacco out of their pipes (such as, in 
 Ireland, are classically called dudheens), lying at lazy-length on the pavement, 
 in the sunny hours, or, in less propitious weather, playing whist (four-handed, 
 three-handed, or double-dummy) with wofully-begrimed and greatly-worn 
 cards. A few of them are curious in the noi)le game of Back-gammon, and 
 have a scientific knowledge of its mysteries. Tu a man, they exult in strong 
 drink, whether it be Scotch ale, or London porlei', having a wholesome con-
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 73 
 
 in-kneed* — indeed, somewhat like llichmond tlie blackt about 
 tlie legs — the squint of his albino eyes Avas far from preposses- 
 sing — and stray tufts of his own white hair, here and there stole 
 lankly down from beneath the up-curled edge of a brown caxon 
 that crowned the apex of his organization. He seemed to have 
 lost the roof of his mouth, and when he said to us, " You see 
 before you Dr. Magnus Oglethorpe, itinerant lecturer on poetry, 
 politics, oratory, and the belles letters," at each word, his tongue 
 came away from the locixm-tenens of his palate, with a bang, like 
 a piece of wet leather from a stone, (called, by our Scottish chil- 
 dren, " sookers," we forget the English name,) each syllable, 
 indeed, standing quite per se, and not without difficulty to be 
 diilled into companies or sentences.! 
 
 But we are forgetting the lady. She was a short, fat, " dum- 
 py woman" — quite a bundle of a body, as one may say — with 
 smooth red cheeks, and little twinkling roguish eyes; — and 
 when she returned our greeting, we were sensible of a slight ac- 
 
 tempt for such water bewitched as the embodied weakness brewed at, and 
 bearing- the name, of Prestonpans. They can imbibe any given quantity of 
 strong wliiskey — whatever name it bear, Islay, or Campbell-town, or Glenlivit, 
 or Glen-Ury, which last is distilled at Uiy, near Stonehaven, by Captain B;ir- 
 clay, the once famous pedestrian, who first walked a thousand miles in a thou- 
 sand consecutive hours. Above all, the caddies are honest, bold, and faithful. 
 The tribe is fast dying out in Edinburgh, where alone it ever flourished (the 
 porters of Aberdeen, with their remarkable strength, being rather beasts of 
 burthen than message-bearers), and the place which knew them will soon 
 know them no more. — M. 
 
 * It was upon this gentleman that the celebrated punster of the West made 
 that famous pun, "The Battle of the Pyrenees — (the pair o' knees)." — Ed. 
 
 t Richmond, the black, was a famed pugilist of former days, of whom par- 
 ticulars are given in one of the Odoherty articles called Boxiana. — M. 
 
 X In the year 1819, the epoch of this eventful story. Dr. Dionysius Lardner 
 had not made his appearance as a public lecturer upon all earthly subjects ; 
 therefore, Dr. Magnus Oglethorpe, the American lecturer, cannot be taken or 
 mistaken for him. I believe that the person intended to be ridiculed was the 
 late John Thelwall, tried on a charge of high treason, in 1794 (with Hardy 
 and others) and acquitted — chiefly owing to Erskine's eloquent defence. Ho 
 aflerwai'd became a newspaper and magazine editor, and eventually subsided 
 into a lecturer on oratoiy, poetry, and the belles lettres. I knew him, in 1830, 
 when he was much advanced in life, and found him full of lively and learned 
 conversation. He was once a great crony of Lrigh Hunt. — M. 
 Yoi,. I. — 4
 
 74 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 cent of Eiin, which, we confess, up in life as we are, falls on the 
 drum of our ear 
 
 " That's like a inrlody sweetly jiloyed in tune." 
 
 She was, as John Mackay had at some distance discovered, in 
 a green riding habit, not, perhaps, much the worse, but certainly 
 much the smoother for wear — and while her neat-turned ankles 
 exhibited a pair of yellow laced boots which nearly reached the 
 calf of her leg, on her head Avaved elegantly a plume of light- 
 blue ostrich feathers. The colors altogether, both those of na- 
 ture and of art, were splendid and harmonioiis, and the Shepherd,* 
 whose honest face we by chance saw, (contrary to orders) peep- 
 ing through a little chink of the Tent, whispered " Losh a day, 
 gin there binna the queen o' the Fairies!"! 
 
 We requested the matchless pair to walk in — but Dr. Mag- 
 nus, who was rather dusty, first got John Mackay to switch him 
 behind and before, with a bunch of long heather, and we our- 
 selves performed the same office, with the greatest delicacy to 
 the lady. The improvement on both was most striking and in 
 stantaneous. The Doctor looked quite fresh and ready for a 
 lecture — while the lady reminded us, so sleek, smooth, and 
 beautiful, did she appear, of a hen after any little ruffling inci- 
 dent in a barn-yard. 
 
 We three entered the Tent — "Contributors! Dr. Magnus 
 Oglethorpe and Lady on a lecturing tour through the Highlands." 
 
 In a moment twenty voices entreated the lady to be seated 
 — Dr. Morris offered her a seat on his bed, which, being folded 
 up, he now used as a chair or sopha — Wastle bowed to the an- 
 tique carved oak arm-chair that had been sent from Mar-Lodge 
 by the Thane — Tickler was lifting up from the ground an emp- 
 ty hamper to reach it across the table for her accommodation — 
 Buller was ready with the top or bottom of the whiskey cask, 
 and we ourselves insisted upon getting the honor of the fair bur- 
 den to the Contributor's box. Seward kept looking at her 
 through his quizzing glass| — " deuced fine wumman by St. Jer- 
 
 * Hogg, of course. — All tiirough Blackwood, wlien ihe "the shepherd" is 
 named, it can and does only mean him of Ettiick. — M. 
 
 t In Scotland, and in some parts of Ireland, it is believed that green is the 
 favorite color of fairies' g^arb. — M. 
 
 t Dr. Morris, the nom de plume under which Lockhart wrote the pleasant
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 75 
 
 iclio ! demme if she b'nt a fac-slmile of Mary-Ann Clarke — only 
 summat deeper in the fore-end — one of old Anacreon's/?'^Ol'^•">To,." 
 
 Her curtsey was exceedingly graceful — when all of a sudden, 
 casting her eyes on the Standard-Bearer who, contrary to his 
 usual amenity toward the sex, stood sour and silent in a comer, 
 she exclaimed, " By the powers, my own swate Morgan Odoher- 
 ty," and jumping up upon the table, she nimbly picked her steps 
 among jugs, glasses, and qiiechs, (upsetting alone Kempferhan- 
 sen's ink horn over an ode to the moon) and in a moment was 
 in the Adjutant's arms. Mrs. M'Whirter, the fair Irish widow 
 whom the Ensign had loved in Philadelphia, stood confessed. 
 
 There clung she, like a mole, with her little paws to the 
 Standard-bearer's sides — striving in vain to reach those beguil- 
 ing lips, which he kept somewhat haughtily elevated about six 
 feet three inches from the ground, leaving an xmscaleable height 
 of at least a yard between them and the mouth of the much 
 flustered, deeply injured Mrs. M'Whirter. The widow, whose 
 elegant taste is well known to the readers of Blackwood, ex- 
 claimed, in the words of Betty* (so she called him), 
 
 satire on men and manners, poetry and politics in Scotland, entitled Peter's 
 Letters. — William Wastle of that Ilk, also an assimied name, under which 
 appeared the many-cantoed poem called the Mad Banker of Amsterdam, and 
 other lays in Blackwood. — In Buller of Brazen-nose, Oxford, was the late 
 John Hughes, of Berks, England, author of an Itinerary of the Rhine, and a 
 swoi'n fi'iend of (Ingoldsbj') Barham and Theodore Hook. — Harry Seward, 
 of Christ-church, Cambiidge, was another fictitious name, and the Maiy Anne 
 Clarke, to whom he compared Mrs. M'Whirter, was the clever, saucy, and 
 unprincipled lady who lived with the Duke of York, for some years, as his 
 mistress, until, in 1809, he was accused of awarding military pi-eferments (as 
 Commander-in-Chief) at her request to parties who paid her for the exercise 
 of such influence. The fact of the disposal of preferments was proved, but 
 tlic complicity of the Duke (a son of George III.), was not established. Mrs. 
 Clarke, who died in 1851, was singularly acute. Many years after the Duke's 
 trial, she was examined, as a witness, before Lord Ellenborough, Chief Justice 
 of the King's Bench. To confuse or destroy her credibility, counsel asked 
 " Under whose protection are you now ?" With a bow and smile at the jridge, 
 she ingeniously and evasively replied, " Under Lord Ellenborough's." — He 
 did protect her, on that appeal — from being subjected to such a line of ques- 
 tioning. — M. 
 
 * Dr. James Beattie, author of" The Minstrel," a poem, and several philo- 
 sophical works, bom in 1735 ; died 180-3. — M.
 
 76 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to climb 
 The steep where love's proud temple shines ufar!" 
 
 "Nevermind the money — my dearest Morgan — Och ! I have 
 never known such another man as your sweet self since we part- 
 ed at Philadelphia." 
 
 The Adjutant looked as if he had neither lost nor won — still 
 gently but detenninedly repelling the advances of the warm- 
 hearted widow, whose face he thus kept, as it were, at arm's 
 length. At last, with a countenance of imperturbable solemnity, 
 worthy of a native of Ireland and a Contnbutor to BJackivood, 
 he coolly said, " Why, Mr. Editor, the trick is a devilish good 
 one, very well played, and knowingly kept up — but now that 
 you gentlemen have all had your laugh against Odoherty, pray 
 Mrs. Roundabout Fat-ribs, may I ask when you were last bate- 
 ing hemp, and in what house of correction V 
 
 " Och — you vile sadducee." 
 
 " I suspect," said Tickler, " that you yourself, my fair Mrs. 
 M'Whirter, were the seducee, and the ensign the seducer." 
 
 " Why look ye," continued Odoherty, " if you are Molly 
 M'Whirter, formerly of Philadelphia, you have the mark of a 
 murphy (Hibemice, potatoc) on your right side, just below the 
 fifth rib — and of a shamrock, or as these English gentlemen 
 would call it, a trefoil, between your shoulders behind, about 
 half way down." 
 
 Here Mrs. M'Whirter lost all temper — and appealed to Dr. 
 ISIagnus Oglethorpe, if Odoherty was not casting foul aspersions 
 on her character. The doctor commenced an oration, with that 
 extraordinary sort of utterance already hinted at, which quite 
 upset the Adjutant's gravity — and the lady now seizing the 
 " tempora mollia fandi," said, with a bewitching smile, " Come 
 now my dearest Morgan, confess, confess !" 
 
 The Standard-bearer was overcome — and, kissing his old 
 friend's cheek in the most respectful manner, he said, " I presume 
 Mrs. M'Whirter is no more, and that I see before me tlie lady of Dr. 
 Magnus Oglethorpe — in other words Mrs. Dr. Oglethorpe."* 
 
 * The Scottish ladies are fond, ns tlie wives 'if GerniMiiy are, of shining 
 in the reflected light of their husband's eminence. Thus, we have Mis. I'vo- 
 fefsor Ramsay at Glasgow, Mrs. Rector Buist at St. Andrew's, and even the
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 77 
 
 " Yes, Morgan, he is indeed my husband — come hitlier, Mag- 
 nus, and shake hands with the Adjutant — this is the Mr. Odo- 
 herty, of ■svhom you have heard me so often spake." 
 
 Nothing coukl be more dehghtful than this reconcihation. We 
 again all took our seats — Dr. Magnus on our own left hand, and 
 Mrs. Dr. Magnus on our right, close to whom sat and smiled, like 
 another Mars, the invincible Standard-bearer. It was a high 
 gratification to us now to find that Odoherty and Mrs. M'Whir- 
 ter had never been united in matrimony. • It was true that in 
 America they had been tenderly attached to each other, but pe- 
 culiar cu'cumstances, some of which are alluded to in a memoir 
 of the adjutant's life, in a former number of this Magazine,* had 
 prevented their union, and soon after his return to Europe, the 
 M'Whirter had bestowed her hand on a faithful suitor, whom she 
 had formerly rejected. Dr. Magnus Oglethorpe, lecturer on poe- 
 try, politics, oratory, &c., a gentleman famous for removing im- 
 pediments in the organs of speech, and who, after having in- 
 structed in public speaking some of the most distinguished orators 
 in the House of Representatives, United States, had lately come 
 over to Britain, to retjj-rd, by his precepts and his practice, the 
 decline and fall of eloquence in our Island. 
 
 As we complimented the doctor on the magnificent object of 
 his pedestrian tour, he volunteered a lecture on the spot, and in 
 an instant — and springing up as nimbly upon the table as Sir 
 Francis Burdett or Mr. John Hobhouse could have done,* the 
 
 Reverend Mrs. Tweedie at Edinburgh. I knew an old gentleman who had 
 been Provost (or Mayor) of Aberdeen, and his wife was Mrs. Provost Milne. 
 The Pnncipal of Marischal College, some years ago, was Dr. Brown, a much 
 henpecked husband, and his consort was appropriately called Mrs. Principal 
 Brown. Nay, on the shore at Aberdeen, at a place called Foot-Dee, the 
 spouse of a man who owned a small fishing-boat, had a little shed or shanty, 
 where she retailed " sli'ong waters," and her sign-board bore this legent: 
 A' SORTS Scots drink sklled here. 
 
 Wl* WEE DRAPS O' FOREIGN. 
 
 BY Me, 
 Mrs. Captain Sandy Smith. — M. 
 * See, previously, page 18, of this " o'er true tale." It is certain, either 
 that the lady had been only too kind previously, or was tremendously libelled 
 by the biographer of Morgan Odoherty. — M. 
 
 t Burdett and Hobhouse were the ultra-Radical leaders in 1818. In sixteen
 
 78 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Americau Demosthenes (who seemed still to have pebbles in his 
 mouth, though far inland), thus opened it* and spake : 
 
 LECTURE ON WHIGGISM. 
 
 Ladies AND Gentlemen: Fear is " Whiggism" — hatred is 
 "Whiggism" — contempt, jealousy, remorse, wonder, despair, or 
 madness, are all " Whiggism." 
 
 The miser when he hugs his gold — the savage who paints 
 his idol with blood — the slave who worships a tyrant, or the 
 tyrant who fancies himself a god — the vain, the ambitious, the 
 proud, the choleric man — the coward, the beggar, all are 
 " Whigs." 
 
 " The ' Whig,' the lover, and the poet. 
 Are of imagination all compact. 
 One sees more devils than vast hell can hold — 
 The madman." 
 
 " Whiggism" is strictly the language of imagination ; and 
 the imagination is that faculty which represents objects, not as 
 they are in themselves, but as they are moulded, by other 
 thoughts and feelings, into an infinite variety of shapes and 
 combinations of power. This language is not the less true to 
 nature, because it is false in point oifact, but so much the more 
 true and natural, if it conveys the impression which the object 
 under the iufl^icnce of jjassion makes on the mind. Let an 
 object, for instance, be presented iji a state of agitation or fear, 
 and the imagination will distort or magnify the object, and con- 
 vert it into the likeness of whatever is most proper to encourage 
 the fear. 
 
 Tragic "Whiggism," vfliich is the most impassioned species 
 of it, strives to carry on the feeling to the utmost point, by all 
 
 years after, Burdett declined into ultra-Toryism, in which he continued until 
 1844, when he died, aged seventy-four. — Hobhouse, after serving in the Grey, 
 Melbourne, and Russell administrations, was called to the House of Lords, in 
 1851, by the title of Baron Broughton. It is curious to note how frequently 
 those who profess extreme liberal opinions subside into moderates beneath 
 tlie seductions of place and honois. — Is this confined to Europe? — M. 
 
 * The expression, " Thus opened his 7no2ith," is incorrect, for without a plate 
 it would be impossible to show the manner in which Dr. Magnus opened his 
 mouth. — C. North.
 
 MEMOIR OF MOllGAN OUOHKHTY. 79 
 
 the force of comparison or contrast — loses the sense of present 
 sufiering- in the hnaginary exaggerations of it — exhausts the 
 terror hy an unhmited indulgence of it — grapples with impos- 
 sihilities in its dcsperafe i)npaticnce of restraint. 
 
 When Lear says of Edgar, nothing hut the unkind " ministry" 
 could have brought him to this — what a hcicildercd amazement, 
 what a wrench of the imagination, that can not he brought to 
 conceive of any other cause of misery than that which has 
 bowed it down, and absorbs all other sorrow ui its own ! His 
 sorrow, like a flood, supplies the sources of all other sorrow. 
 
 In regard to a certain Whig, of the unicorn species, we may 
 say — How his passion lashes itself up, and swells and rages 
 like a tide in its sounding course, when, in answer to the doubts 
 expressed of his returning "temper," he says — 
 
 " Never, lago. Like to the Pontic Sea, 
 Whose icy current and compulsive course 
 Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 
 To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; 
 Even so my ' frantic' thoughts, with violent pace. 
 Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble sense, 
 Till that a capable and wide revenge 
 Swallow them up." 
 
 The pleastire, however, derived from tragic " Whiggism," is 
 not any thing peculiar to it as Whiggism, as a fictitious and fan- 
 ciful thing. It is not an anomaly of the imagination. It has 
 its source and ground-work in the common love of " power" and 
 strong excitement. As Mr. Burke observes, people flock to 
 "Whig meetings;" but if there were a public execution in the 
 next street, the " house" would very soon be empty. It is not 
 the difference between fiction and reality that solves the diffi- 
 culty. Children are satisfied with stories of ghosts and witches. 
 The grave politician drives a thriving trade of abuse and calum- 
 nies, poured out against those whom he makes his enemies for 
 no other end than that he may live by them. The popular 
 preacher makes less frequent mention of heaven than of hell. 
 Oaths and nicknames are only a more vulgar sort of " Whig- 
 gism." We are as fond of indulging our violent passions as of 
 reading a description of those of others. We are as prone to 
 make a torment of our fears as to luxuriate in our hopes of
 
 80 THE ODUHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " mischief." The love of power is as strong a principle in the 
 mind as the love of pleasure. It is natural to hate as to love, 
 to despise as to admire, to express our hatred or contempt as 
 our love and admiration. 
 
 " Masterless passion sways us l.o the mood 
 Of what it likes or loatlies." 
 
 Not that we like what we loathe, but we like to indulge our 
 hatred and scorn of it (viz. Toryism), to dwell upon it — to ex- 
 asperate our idea of it hy every reiinement of ingenuity and ex- 
 travagance of illustration — to make it a bugbear to ourselves — 
 to point it out to others in all the splendor of deformity — to 
 embody it to the senses — to stigmatize it in words — to grapple 
 with it in thought, in action — to sharpen our intellect — to arm 
 our will against it — to knov/ the worst we have to contend with, 
 and to contend Avith it to the utmost. 
 
 Let who will strip nature of the colors and the shapes of 
 " Whiggism," the " Whig" is not bound to do so ; the impres- 
 sions of common sense and strong imagination, that is, of passion 
 and " temperance," can not be the same, and they must have a 
 separate language to do justice to either. Objects must strike 
 differently upon the mind, independently of what they are in 
 themselves, so long as Ave have a different interest in them — as 
 Ave see them in a different point of view, nearer or at a greater 
 distance (morally or physically speaking), from novelty — from 
 old acquaintance — from our ignorance of them — from our fear 
 of their consequences — from contrast — from unexpected like- 
 ness ; hence nothing but Whiggism can be agreeable to nature 
 and truth. 
 
 This lecture gaA'e uniA^ersal satisfaction — but Dr. Magnus is 
 a man of too much genius not to acknoAvledge unreservedly his 
 obligations to other great men — and after our plaudits had ex- 
 pired, he informed us, that he claimed little other merit than 
 that of haAiug delivered tlie lecture according to the best rules 
 and principles of oratory, for that the words Avere by his friend 
 Mr. Hazlitt.* " In the original," said he, " Mr. Hazlitt employs 
 
 * This Lecture on Whiggism is a parody on the commencement of one of 
 Hazlitrs articlp* on Poetrs". — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN OUOHERTY. 81 
 
 the word ' Poetry,' wliicli I have slightly changed into the word 
 ' Whig-gism,' and thus an excellent lecture on politics is procured, 
 without the ingenious essayist having been at all aware of the 
 ultimate meaning of his production. " As the lecture was hut 
 short, will you have another?" 
 
 " No — no — enough is as good as a feast," quod Odoherty — 
 " perhaps," Mr. Editor, " if you request it, Mrs. Magnus Avill 
 have the goodness to make tea." 
 
 There Avas not only much tnie politeness in this suggestion 
 of the Adjutant, but a profound knowledge of the female char- 
 acter — and, accordingly, the tea things were not long of making 
 their appearance, for in our Tent it was just sufficient to hint a 
 wish, and that wish, whatever it might be, that moment was 
 gratified. Mrs. Magnus, we observed, put in upward of thirty 
 spoonfuls — being at the rate of two and a half for each Con- 
 tributor,* and the lymph came out of the large silver tea-pot " a 
 perfect tincture ;" into his third and last cup of which each Con- 
 tributor emptied a decent glass of whiskey ; nor did the Lady of 
 the Tent, any more than the Lady of the Lake, show any 
 symptoms of distaste to the mountain dew. The conversation 
 was indeed divine — and it w^as wonderful with what ease Mrs. 
 Magnus conducted herself in so difficult a situation. She had a 
 word or a smile for every one, and the Shepherd whispered to 
 Tickler, just loud enough to be heard by those near the Con- 
 tributor's Box, " sic a nice leddy wad just sute you or me to a 
 hair, Mr. Tickler. Faith, thae blue ostrich plumbs wad astonish 
 Davy Bryden, were he to see them hanging o'er the tea-pat at 
 Eltrive-Lake, wi' a swurl." ****** 
 
 * She was extravagant. The allowance, as defined by the most aiitiquo 
 tea-drinkers is " one spoonful for each person present, and one extra for Ihe 
 pot." Neither is mountain-dew the best corrective of the evil efi'ecls of the 
 herb which cheers but doth not inebriate. A judicious addendum of old 
 Jamaica is sometimes taken by anti-tea-totallers, with this intent. — In Ireland, 
 among the poorer classes, nothing is considered more mean than the giving 
 tea either weak or of an infeiior quality An emigrant who had partaken of 
 the hospitality of a neighbor's tea-and-turn-out (as they call it when su])per 
 does not follow) thus described the beverage: — " Faith, my dear, the tea was 
 as weak as if you'd put a spoonful of bohea into the North River, up ut the 
 Palisades, and sup it up with a spoon, for the flavor, down in the B:iy, right 
 fornen^t Sfaten Island !" — M.
 
 82 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Then the Bailie read an excellent new Song, which was ap- 
 plauded to " the very echo" hy all but Mrs. Magnus, who was 
 too polite to say anything derogatory to Bailie Jarvie's genius. 
 Indeed she no doubt admired that genius, but the subject did not 
 seem to interest her. " My dear Mr. Odoherty" (for they treated 
 each other with infinite respect), " will you give us something 
 amatory ?" 
 
 " I gives my vice, too, for something hamatory," pertly enough 
 whifiled Mr. Tims; — when the Standard-bearer, after humming 
 a few notes, and taking the altitude from the pitch-key of Tick- 
 ler (which he carries about with him as certainly as a parson 
 carries a corkscrew), went off in noble style with the following 
 song, his eyes all the while turned toward Mrs. Magnus Ogle- 
 thorpe, whose twinklers emanated still but elocjuent responses 
 not to be misunderstood. 
 
 INCONSTANCY ; A SONG TO MRS. M'WHIRTER. 
 Bi/ Mr. Odoherty. 
 
 " Ye fleeces of gold amidst crimson enroU'd 
 
 That sleep in the calm western sky. 
 Lovely relics of day float — ah ! float not away ! 
 
 Are ye gone ? then, ye beauties, good-bye !'' 
 It was thus the fair maid I had loved would have staid 
 
 The last gloamings of passion in me; 
 But the orb's fiery glow in tlie soft wave below 
 
 Had been cooled — and the thing could not be. 
 
 While thio' deserts you rove, if you find a green grove 
 
 Where the dark branches overhead meet, 
 There repose you a while from the heat and the toil, 
 
 And be thankful the shade is so s*eet ; 
 But if long you remain it is odds but the rain 
 
 Or the wind 'mong the leaves may be stirring, 
 They will strip the boughs bare — you're a fool to stay there — 
 
 Change the scene without further demurring. 
 
 If a rich-laden tree in your wanderings you see 
 
 With the ripe fruit all glowing and swelling, 
 Take your fill as you pass — if you don't you're an ass, 
 
 But I daresay you don't need my telling — 
 'Twould be just as great fooling to come back for more pulling,
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHKUrY. 83 
 
 When a week or two more shall have gone, 
 These firm plums very rapidly, they will taste very vapidly, 
 — By good luck we'll have pears coming on! 
 
 All around Nature's range is from changes to changes, 
 
 And in change all her charming is centered — 
 AVhen you step from the stream where you've bathed, 'twere a dream 
 
 To suppose't the same stream that you entered ; 
 Each clear ciystal wave just a passing kiss gave, 
 
 And kept rolling away to the sea — 
 So the love-stricken slave for a moment may rave, 
 
 But ere long oh ! how distant he'll be ? 
 
 Why — tis only in name, you, e'en you, are the same 
 
 With the SHE that inspired n:y devotion. 
 Every bit of t?he lip that I lov'd so to sip 
 
 Has been changed in the general commotion — 
 Even these soft gleaming eyes that awaked my young sighs 
 
 Have been altered a thousand times over; 
 Why? Oh ! why then complain that so short was your reign ? 
 
 Must all Nature go round but your lover? 
 
 The tears flowed in torrents, from the blue eyes of Mrs. Mag- 
 nus, during the whole of this song ; and when Mr. Tims, who 
 was now extremely inebriated, (he has since apologised to us 
 for his behavior, and assured us, that when tipsey on tea he is 
 always quite beyond himself,) vehemently cried, " Hangcore ! 
 hangcore !" the gross impropriety of such unfeeling conduct was 
 felt by Mr. Seward, who offered, if agreeable to us, to turn him 
 out of the Tent ; but Tims became more reasonable upon this, 
 and asked permission to go to bed ; which being granted, his 
 friend Price* assisted the small cit to laij down, and in a few 
 minutes, we think, unless we wei'e deceived, that we 'faintly 
 heard something like his own thin tiny little snore. 
 
 Mrs. Magnus soon recovered her cheerfulness ; for being, with 
 all her vivacity, subject to frequent but short fits of absence, she 
 every now and then, no doubt without knowing what she was 
 about, filled up her tea-cup, not from the silver tea-pot, but from a 
 magisterial-looking bottle of whiskey, which then, and indeed 
 
 * Mr. Price, who figures as " a nephy of the late Sir Charles Price, that 
 was o' Lunnun," was introduced as a metropolitan dandy, rejoicing in those 
 days in swallow-tailed coats, tightly-laced stays, tall hats, high shirt-collars, 
 nnd wide trousers, exaggerated with immense full plaits over the hips. — M.
 
 84 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 at all times, stood on our table. She now volunteered a song 
 of her own composition ; and after fingering away in the most 
 rapid style of manipulation on the edge of the table, as if upon 
 her own spinnet in Philadelphia, she too took the key from 
 Tickler's ready instrument, and chanted in recitativo what fol- 
 lows — an anomolous kind of poetry. 
 
 CHANT. BY MRS. M'WHIRTER. 
 
 Tune — Tlie Powldoodies ofBurran. 
 
 I WONDER what the mischief was in me when a bit of my music I proffered ye ! 
 How could any woman sing a good song when she's just parting with Morgan 
 
 Odoherty ? 
 A poor body, I think, would have more occasion for a comfortable quiet can. 
 To keep up her spirits in taking lave of so nate a young man — 
 Besides, as for me, I'm not an orator like Bushe, Plunket, Grattan, or Curran,* 
 So I can only hum a few words to the old chant of the Powldoodies ofBurran. 
 Chorus — Oh! the Powldoodies ofBurran, 
 
 The green green Powldoodies of Burran, 
 
 The green Powldoodies, the clean Powldoodies, 
 
 The gaping Powldoodies of Burran. t 
 
 * Charles Kendal Bushe, Chief-Justice of Ireland; William Conyngham 
 Plunket, Lord Chancellor, from 1830 to 1841 ; Henry Grattan, the eloquent 
 patriot of 1783; and John Philpot Curran, "over whose ashes," to use his 
 own words, " the most precious tears of Ireland have been shed.'' — M. 
 
 t There is a fashion in eveiything — even in oysters. The fashion is per- 
 petually shifting and changing. Twenty years ago, the run was on brown 
 Duff Gordon sherry: — now it has veered round to Amontillado. Then, we 
 used to luxuriate in what was called Comet-brand champaigne — now we de- 
 scend to a substitute which probably derives its name {Head-sick) from its effects 
 on the coiporeal system. Formerly, gentlemen strutted about in blue swallow- 
 tail-coats, bag-trousers, one-button waistcoats, hugely-frilled shirts, high and rigid 
 collars, and tall stocks — now their attire is wholly different. Then, ladies looked 
 absurd in short petticoats, shoulder-of-mutton (e» gif^ol) sleeves, exaggerated 
 bustles, low-bodies, uncovered shoulders, and a plentitudo of cork-screw curls — 
 now, their dresses must sweep the pavement, their cniiolins are subdued, their 
 dre.^ses cover their shoulders, and their hair is "fixed" either in braids, like 
 Queen Victoria's, or brushed back off" the forehead, in the amiable ambition of 
 making a pretty woman look lilce a buy-a-broom girl from Bavaria — bold and 
 brazen. In other days, when Mozart and Rossini ruled the roast, tlie music 
 of the Italian opera was composed somewhat on the principle of being an 
 accompaniment to the singers — a sort of undercurrent to the waves of their 
 magic melody. Now, with Donizetti and Verdi in favor, the music is to drown
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 86 
 
 I remember a saying- of my Lord Noibury, that excellent Judge, 
 
 Says he, never believe what a man says to ye, Molly, for believe me 'tis all 
 
 fudge ; 
 He said it sitting on the Bench before the whole Grand Jury of Tipperary, 
 If I had minded it, I had been the better on't, as sure as my name's Mary: 
 
 the voice ; the singers have to roar in opposition to the ci-ash of a crowd of 
 wind instruments; ophecleides, trumpets, bassoons, violincellos, and mnm- 
 moth-drums play the mischief with the human tympanum; and noise wins the 
 day against melody and sentiment. As wines, dress, music, and other condi- 
 ments, so has it been with — oysters ! In Ireland, at least, Fashion has affected 
 the popularity of bivalves, freland, fortunate and wealthy in all natural pro- 
 ductions, especially rejoices in a general and generous supply of a species 
 of oysters called "The Powldoodies of Burran," which are commemorated in 
 this chant of Mrs. M'Whirler's. The Powldoodies are a small oyster (about 
 the size of a silver dollar or five-franc piece, or English crown), with a deli- 
 cate black beard, and a flavor which may be imagined but cannot be described. 
 Those visiters to Paris who (at the restaurant called Les Freres ProvinCaux, in 
 the Palais Royal) have commenced a dinner with the usual half dozen Ostend 
 oysters, small but savory and appetizing (particularly when washed down with 
 chablis), and wished, in their delight, that the .said Ostends were just double 
 their actual size, may take my word for it that the Powldoodies are exactly 
 what thej' sighed for. But every thing has its day, in this world of chance 
 and change. Powldoodies went out of fashion, and Carlingford oysters came in. 
 After a time, these, also, ceased to be the ton. Then, from the county of Clare, 
 all the way across the island, we received the Burton-Bin don oysters, which, 
 unquestionably, are among the natural riches of Ireland. They have been some 
 years in favor, and are not likely to be superseded in a hurry. Any lover of 
 bivalves, who may think it worth his while to make a voyage to Ireland for the 
 sake of fully enjoying' the luxuiy, would do well to land on the coast of Clare, 
 to try the Burton-Bindons ; thence coast along into what was called Cove and 
 now is Queenstown, to partake of the Cork Harbor oysters, as large as the 
 largest Prince's Bays, and delicate in flavor as — the dewy kiss from a 
 maiden's lips when she first confesses to a mutual passion. Thence up the 
 Irish sea, touching on the shores of Wexford and Wicklow, for other, but less 
 knovni varieties of the beloved piscine delicacy. FoiAvard to the beds where- 
 upon repose the luscious Carriclifergusites, the Malahides, and the delightful 
 " natives" of Carlingford. The whole tour of Ireland may thus be advanta- 
 geou.=!y madi', for there be oysters on nearly eveiy part of the coast, but the 
 leading resting-places are such as are here named. It may be right to add, 
 as I am upon this important subject, that in Ireland, oysters are rarely stewed, 
 never fried, and only occasionally scolloped. They are invariably taken raw, 
 each man having a hundred, or so, placed before him, with a coarse towel 
 to protect his hand, while he opens the oyster with a short stumpy knife. The 
 art of opening (consisting in employing skill rather than force, so that even a 
 lady (who is up to the knack) can open oysters as fast as a man,) is the result
 
 86 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I would have paid not the smallest attention, ye good-for-nothing elf yp, 
 To the f.iie speeches that took me off my feet in the swate city Piiiladelphy. 
 
 Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 of practice. Those who like to preserve the fish in the deeper shell, so as to 
 retain the juice, open the oyster at the hinge, hy a short sharp jerk of the 
 knife. When a man has disposed of half a dozen score of oysters in the natural 
 way (with a couple of pots of Guinness's to assist him), and yet feels a void 
 in the inner man, he finishes off another score or two, by putling them to roast 
 between the bars — the chief pleasure then consisting in "dallying with dan- 
 ger on life's troubled sea" (a line, by the way, from a sentimental sonnet of 
 my own), by risking the bui-ning of his fingers in taking the nearly red-hot 
 roasters off the fire. To assist the digestion of roasted oysters, it is improving 
 to imbibe a dandy (half a wine-glass full) of neat whiskey to every fifteen 
 oysters. Six score, or a hundred-and-twenty moderate sized oysters is con- 
 sidered a fair (Irish) allowance for a gentleman, before he enters upon such 
 substantialities of a supper as rump-steaks, salmon-cutlets, sweetbreads, lobster- 
 salads, game, and that crowning gloiy of the feast — some ripe Stilton (about 
 the size of a piece of chalk) washed down with one tall glass of stunning 
 Edinburgh ale ! After such a supper, a man may safely commence to " make 
 a night of it," secure in the certainty of having laid a good foundation in the 
 stomncli for the drink to rest upon. N. B. — Should the sitting be prolonged until 
 .5 A. M., exhausted Nature may have her strength somewhat renewed, by a deviled 
 turkey's leg or so. Eschew grilled gizzards, as indigestible. Avoid the pleas- 
 ant and unwholesome iniquitj' yclept Welsh Rabbit, but if you will liave 
 one (and I own that I am rather fond of it, myself), imbue the cook with the 
 twenty-eighth of the " Maxims of Odoherty," which treats on toasted cheese 
 for supper. Stick to one description of drink ; after supper it is infantile to 
 mix your liquors. By way of a fillip to the appetite (but Irishmen seldom re- 
 quire it) a man may sometimes, in advance of the regular " devils," take 
 devilled biscuit or dittoed back-bone of mackerel. Prepare them thus :— 
 Moderately cover biscuit or back-bone with butter ; sprinkle with cayenne 
 and fine salt; put into the oven to crisp; take out in an houi', when browned 
 and crisped ; nibble occasionally, and take my word for it, you will not bo 
 deficient in the way of thirst. — Speaking of oysters, we must refer the curious 
 reader to No. XVIII. of the Noctcs Anibrosianae, in which Odoherty speaks 
 critically on the bivalves of Ireland. He lauds the Carlingford (" small, but 
 of a particularly fine flavor"), also the Bland oysters of Kerry, so called from the 
 family who owned the particular bed on which they multiplied, as well as the 
 gigantic from Cork Harbor. " The large oyster," said he, " is like your large 
 beauty — melting, luxurious, and soul-soothing. The small like your small 
 beauties — piquant, savory, and soul-awakening." He added (the jirevalent 
 opinion, across the water,) that good oysters should taste like a copper half- 
 penny ! The Irish mode of doing roasted oysters was this: — Put them be- 
 tween the bars, take them out when roasted, put a hazel-nut size of butter
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 87 
 
 By the same rule, snys my dear Mr. Biishc, one nig^ht when I was sitting be- 
 side Maiisey, 
 " Molly, love," says he, " if you go on at this rate, you've no idea what bad 
 
 luck it will cause ye ; 
 You may go on very merrily for a while, but you'll see what will come on't, 
 When to answer for all your misdeeds, at the last you are summoned ; 
 Do you fancy a young woman can proceed in this sad lightheaded way, 
 And not suffer in the long run, tho' manetime she may merrily say, 
 
 Oh ! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 But I'm sure there's plenty of other people that's very near as bad as me. 
 
 Yes. and I will make bould to affirm it in the very tiptopsomest degree ; 
 
 Only they're rather more cunning concealing on't, tho' they meet with their 
 
 fops 
 Every now and then, by the mass, about four o'clock in their Milliner's shops ; 
 In our own pretty Dame street I've seen it — the fine Lady comes commoidy 
 
 first. 
 And then comes her beau on pretence of a watch-ribbon, or the like I purtest. . 
 
 Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 But as for me, I could not withstand him, 'tis the beautiful dear Ensign I mean, 
 When he came into the Shining Daisy* with his milkwhite smallclothes so clean, 
 With his epaulette shining on his shoulder, and his golden gorget at his breast. 
 And his long silken sash so genteely twisted many times round about his neat 
 
 waist ; 
 His black gaiters that were so tight, and reached up to a little below his knee, 
 And shewed so well the 2)rettiest calf e'er an Irish lass had the good luck to 
 
 see. Oh ! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 His eyes were like a flaming ccal-firo, all so black and yet so bright, 
 Or like a star shining clearly in the middle of the dark heaven at night, 
 And the white of them Vi'as not white, but a sort of charming hue. 
 Like a morning sky, or skimmed milk, of a delicate sweet blue ; 
 But when he whispered sweetly, then his eyes were so soft and dim, 
 That it would have been a heart of brass not to have pity upon him. 
 
 Oh! the Powldoodies of Bmi-au, &c., &c 
 
 under the oyster in its deep shell, which melts it, as a young woman melts 
 beneath the warm influence of love, then shred your eschalot gently into 
 it, shower in your cayenne, add a little salt, and it is a moutliful for an 
 Editor.-— M. 
 
 * The Shining Daisy was the sign of Mrs. M'Whirler's chop-house at Phila- 
 delphia — Sir Daniel Donelly hoisted the same sign over his booth the other 
 day at Donnybrook fair. — Editor. [Sir Daniel, an Irish pugilist, of whose 
 life and death a full account was subsequently written by Mnginn — as will be 
 seen, and may be rend, anon. — M.]
 
 bb THE ODOHERTY PAPERS, 
 
 And yet now you see he's left me like a pair of old boots or shoes, 
 And makes love lo all the handsome ladies, for ne'er a one of them can refuse ; 
 Through America and sweet Ireland, and Balh and London Citj', 
 For he must always be manning after something that's new and pretty, 
 Playing the devil's own delights in Holland, Spain, Portugal, and France, 
 And here too in the cold Scotch mountains, where I've met with him by very 
 chance. Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 When he first ran off and deserted me, I thought my heart was plucked away, 
 
 Such a tugging in my breast, I did not sleep a wink till peep of day — 
 
 May I be a sinner if I ever bowed but for a moment my eye-lid. 
 
 Tossing round about from side to side in the middle of my bid. 
 
 One minute kicking off all the three blankets, the sheets, and the countei-pane, 
 
 And then stuffing them up over my head like a body beside myself again. 
 
 Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 Says I to myself, I'll repeat over the whole of the Pater Noster, Ave-Maria, 
 
 and Creed, 
 If I don't fall over into a doze e'er I'm done with them "twill be a very un- 
 common thing indeed ; 
 But, would you believe it? I was quite lively when I came down to the Amen, 
 And it was always just as bad tho' I repeated them twenty times over and 
 
 over again ; 
 I also tried counting of a thousand, but still found myself broad awake. 
 With a cursed pain in the fore part of my head, all for my dear sweet Ensign 
 Odohertj''s sake. Oh ! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 But, to cut a long story short, I was in a high fever when I woke in the morning. 
 Whereby all women in my situation should take profit and warning ; 
 And Doctor Oglethorjie he was sent for, and he ordered me on no account to lise, 
 But to lie still and have the whole of my back covered over with Spanish flies ; 
 He also gave me leeches and salts, castor oil, and the balsam capivi. 
 Till I was brought down to a mere shadow, and so pale that the sight would 
 have grieved ye. Oh ! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 But in the course of a few days more I began to stump a little about. 
 
 And by the blessing of air and exercise, I grew every day more and more stout ; 
 
 And in a week or two I recovered my twist, and could play a capital knife and 
 
 fork. 
 Being not in the least particular whether it was beef, veal, lamb, mutton, or 
 
 pork ; 
 But of all the things in the world, for I was always my father's own true 
 
 daughter, 
 I liked best to dine on fried tripes, and wash it down with a little hot brandy 
 
 and water. Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, Sec, &c. 
 
 If I had the least bit of genius for poems, I could make some veiy nice songs, 
 On the cruelties of some people's sweethearts, and some people's suficrings 
 and v.Tongs ;
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 89 
 
 For he was master, I'm sure, of my house, and there was nothing at all at all 
 In the whole of the Shining Daisy for which he could not just ring the hell 
 
 and call ; 
 We kept always a good larder of pigeon pyes, hung beef, ham, and cowhecl. 
 And we would have got anything to please him that we could either beg, bor- 
 row, or steal. Oh ! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 And at night when we might be taking our noggin in the little back-room, 
 I thought myself as sure of my charmer as if he had gone to church my bride- 
 groom ; 
 But I need not deep harping on that string and ripping up of the same old sore, 
 He went off in the twinkling of a bed-post, and I never heard tell of him no 
 
 more. 
 So I married the great Doctor Oglethorpe, who had been my admirer all along, 
 And we had some scolloped Powldoodies for supper; and every crature joined 
 in the old song, Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, &c., &c. 
 
 Some people eats their Powldoodies quite neat just as they came out of the sea, 
 But with a little black pepper and vinegar some other people's stomachs better 
 
 agree ; 
 Young ladies are very fond of oyster pates, and young gentlemen of oyster broth, 
 But I think I know a bit of pasture that is far better than them both : 
 For whenever we want to be comfortable says I to the Doctor — my dear man. 
 Let's have a few scolloped Powldoodies, and a bit of tripe fried in the pan. 
 Chorus — Oh! the Powldoodies of Burran, 
 
 The green green Powldoodies of Buiran, 
 
 The green Powldoodies, the clean Powldoodies, 
 
 The gaping Powldoodies of BuiTan. 
 
 After Mrs. Magnus had received those plaudits from the Tent 
 due to this exhibition of native genius, the learned Doctor some- 
 what anxiously asked us what sort of accommodation we had 
 for him and his lady during the night 1 We told him that the 
 Tent slept twenty easily, and that a few more could be stowed 
 away between the interstices. " But give yourself no uneasiness, 
 Dr. Magnus, on that score ; we are aware of the awkwardness 
 of a lady passing the night witli so many Contributors, and of 
 the censoriousness of the world, many people in which seem de- 
 teraiined, Doctor, to put an unfavorable construction on every 
 thing we do or say. Besides, your excellent lady might find 
 our Tent like the Black Bull Inn of Edinburgh, as it Avas twenty 
 years ago, when Dr. Morris first visited it, ' crowded, noisy, 
 shabby, and uncomfortable.' Now the inn at Braemar is a most 
 capital one, where the young ladies of the family will pay every
 
 90 THE ODOHEUTY PAPERS. 
 
 attention to Mrs. Magnus. We have already despatched a 
 special messenger for Dr. Morris' shandrydan,* and as it is a fine 
 moonlight night, you can trundle yourselves down to bed in a 
 jififey." 
 
 The sound of the shandrydan comiirmed our words, and we 
 all attended Mrs. Magnus and her husband to the road, to see 
 them safely mounted. Our readers have all seen Peter's shan- 
 drydan — a smart, suug, safe, smooth, roomy, easy-going con- 
 cern that carries you over the stones as if you were on turf; 
 and where, may we ask, will you see a more compact nimble 
 little horse than Peter's horse. Scrub — with feet as steady as 
 clock-work, and a mouth that carries his bit with a singular 
 union of force aud tenderness ? 
 
 " 1 fear that I cannot guide this vehicle along Highland 
 roads," said Dr. Magnus ; " and I suspect that steed is given to 
 starting, from the manner in which he keeps rearing his head 
 about, and pawing the ground like a mad bull. My deer, it 
 would be flying in the face of Providence to ascend the steps of 
 that shandrydan." 
 
 While the orator was thus expressing his trepidation, the 
 Standard-bearer handed Mrs. Magnus forward, who, with her 
 nodding plumes, leapt lightly up beneath the giant strength of 
 his warlike arm, and took her seat with an air of perfect compo- 
 sure and dignity ; while Odoherty, adjusting the rems with the 
 skill of a Lade or Buxton, and elevating his dexter hand that held 
 them and the whip in its gnostic grasp, caught hold of the rail 
 of the shandrydan with his left, and flup-; i.imself, as it were, to 
 the fair side of her who had once been t..u mistress of his youth- 
 ful heart, but for whom he now retained only the most respect- 
 ful affection. 
 
 " Mount up behind, Dr. Magnus," cried the Adjutant, some- 
 what impatiently ; " your feet will not be more than six inches 
 
 * The shandrydan, in which (vide Peter's Letters) Dr. Morris drove into 
 Edinburgh, when commencing his great visit, was a ratlier high one-horse and 
 two-wheeled gig, capable of holding two persons. The frontispiece to vol. i. 
 of the famous Letters is enriched with a vignette showing the Doctor and his 
 man in this vehicle, which lie describes as " positively the very best vehicle in 
 existence. The lightness of the gig — the capacity of the chariot — and the 
 stvlishness of the cai it is a wonderful combiiiatiou of excellencies." — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 91 
 
 from tlie ground, so that in case of any disaster, you can drop 
 off like a ripe pease-cod — mount, I say. Doctor, mount." 
 
 The Doctor did so ; and the Standard-bearer, giving a Llast 
 on Wastle's bugle, and cutting the thin air with his thong sev- 
 eral yards beyond Scrub's nose, away went the shandrydan, 
 while the mountains of the Dee echoed again to the ratthng of 
 its wheels. 
 
 NOTE FROM MR. ODOHERTY. 
 
 My Dear Editor, 
 
 The report of my death — a report originally created by the 
 malevolence of a fiend — has, I am sorry to observe, gained con- 
 siderable currency through the inadvertence of you — a friend. 
 Had my body been really consigned to the dust, you should 
 have received intelligence of that event, not from the casual 
 whispers of a stranger, but from the affectionate bequest of a 
 sincere admirer ; for, sir, I may as well mention the fact, that 
 by a holograph codicil to my last will and testament, I have 
 constituted you sole tutor and curator of all my MSS.; thus pro- 
 viding, in case of accidents, for these my intellectual offspring, the 
 care of a guardian, who, I am well aware, would superintend, 
 with a father's eye, the mode of their introduction into public 
 life. 
 
 I flatter myself, however, that you will not hear with indiffer- 
 ence, of my being still in a condition to fulfil this ofiice in pro- 
 pria persona. On some fixture occasion I shall describe to your 
 readers, in, I hope, no uninteresting strains, the strange vicissi- 
 tudes of my fate during the last two years : among these not 
 the least amusing will be the narrative of those very peculiar 
 circumstances which have induced me to lie perdue, a listener to 
 no less than two succeeding historians of my life, supposed to 
 be terminated — and eulogists of my genius, no less falsely sup- 
 posed to have been swallowed up in the great vortex of anima- 
 tion. But of all this anon.
 
 92 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I inclose, in the mean time, as the first oflGerings of my re-ac- 
 knowledged existence, three several productions of my muse. 
 The first (the Garland) was composed by me a few weeks ago 
 on the following occasion. 
 
 I happened to be in Hawick at the moment when the cele- 
 brated Giantess, Mrs. Cook, passed through that town on her 
 Avay from the South. Animated with that rightful spirit of cu- 
 riosity which has been pronounced to be the mother of all 
 knowledge, I immediately hastened to wait upon her. The 
 vast stature of this remarkable woman — her strength (for, with 
 a single squeeze, she had well nigh crushed my fingers to dust), 
 the symmetry of her figure — but above all, the soft elegance of 
 her features — these united attractions v/ere more than sufficient 
 to make a deep impression on the mind of one who has never 
 professed himself to be "a stoic of the Avoods." After spending 
 a comfortable evening at Mrs. Brown's, I set out for Eltrive, 
 the seat of my friend Mr. Hogg, and, in the course of the walk, 
 composed the following lines, which I soon afterward sent to 
 Mrs. Cook. It is proper to mention, that the fair daughter of 
 Anak enclosed to me, in return, a ticket of free admission for 
 the season — of which I shall certainly very frequently avail 
 myself after my arrival in Edinburgh. 
 
 The other two poems, the Eve of St. Jerry, and the Rime of 
 the Auncient Waggonere, were composed by me many years ago. 
 The reader will at once detect the resemblance which they bear 
 to two well-known and justly celebrated pieces of Scott and Cole- 
 ridge. This resemblance, in justice to myself, is the fruit of 
 their imitation — not of mine. I remember reciting the Eve of 
 St. Jerry about the year 1795 to Mr. Scott,* then a very young 
 man ; but as I have not had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Cole- 
 ridge, although I have often wished to do so, and hold his gen- 
 ius in the highest estimation, I am more at a loss to account for 
 
 * There is an anachronism here. — Odohei-ty's biog^rapher (vide chai). i. p. 4) 
 fixes 1789 as the date of the Ensign's birth, whereas, as we shall presently see, 
 it was in 1780. Consequently, he must have written and recited his poem at 
 the age of six. This is about as strong an instance of precocious talent as we 
 have on record. — Scott's poem, "The Eve of St. John," was written in 1799, 
 at the age of twenty-eight. The " The Rhyme of the Ancient Maiiner" was 
 one of Coleridge's earliest performances. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 93 
 
 the accurate idea lie seems to have possessed of iny production, 
 unless, indeed, I may have casually dropt a copy of the MS. in 
 some bookseller's shop in Bristol, where he may have found it. 
 Meantime, I remain, Dear Editor, your afifectionate servant, 
 
 Morgan Odoherty. 
 
 Eltrive Lake, Feb. 29f}i, 1819. 
 
 ODOHBRTY'S GARLAND. 
 
 IN HONOR. OF MRS. COOK, THE GREAT. 
 
 Let the Emerald Isle make O'Brien her boast,* 
 
 And lot Yorkshire be proud of her " strapping young man,"t 
 But London, gay London, should gloiy the most, 
 
 ** Charles O'Brien, the person here alluded to, measured exactly eight feet 
 two inches in his pumps. His countenance was comely, and his chest well 
 formed, but, like the " Mulier Formosa" of Horace's Satire, or (what may be 
 considered as a more appropriate illustration) like the idol of the Philistines, 
 he was very awkwardly shaped in the lower extremities. He made a practice 
 of selling successively to many gentlemen of the medical profession, the rever- 
 sion of his enormous carcase. It is said that one of these bargains — viz. that 
 contracted between him and the celebrated Liston of Edinburgh, was reduced to a 
 strictly legal shape. It is well known that, according to the forms of Scots 
 law, nothing but moveables can be conveyed by testament — every other species 
 of property requires to be titinsferred by a deed inter vivos. The acute nor- 
 thern anatomist, doubting whether any court of law would have been inclined 
 to class O'Brien's body among -moveables, insisted that the giant should vest 
 the fee of the said body in him (the surgeon), saving and retaining to himself 
 (the giant), a right of usufi-uct or liferent. We have not heard by what symbol 
 the Dr. completed his infeftmenl. [The skeleton of O'Brien, the Irish giant, 
 is preserved in the Museum of Trinity College, Dublin. — M.] 
 
 t The " strapping young man" was the late Thomas Higgins, on occasion 
 of whose death was composed a poetical dialogue, formerly alluded to in 
 Blackwood' s Magazine. 
 
 TRAVELLER. 
 
 Why ! I was told you woollen-weavers here 
 Were starved outright for lack of all employment; 
 But I perceive a veiy diflferent cheer. 
 Your looms are rattling all in full enjoyment. 
 
 INHABITANTS. 
 
 Oh ! those that told you so, sir, told you right; 
 We were indeed a woful famish'd crowd; 
 But now the case is altered clean and whit'-. 
 We have i;ot the makhig of the Giant's Skroici.
 
 94 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 She has reared Mrs. Cook,* let them match her who can ; 
 This ffmale Gohaht is thicker and higher 
 
 Than Italian Belzoni,t or Highlandman Sam. 
 Yet the terrible creature is pretty in feature, 
 
 And her smile is as soft as a dove or a lamb. 
 
 * Mrs. Cook, the largest of female mortals, was commonly called " The Gentle 
 Giantess." She was married to a gentleman the crown of whose head was 
 only oh a level with her girdle. Great w-as the contrast between his live feet 
 nothing and her six feet six. As a true •historian, I am compelled to state that 
 Mr. Cook was accustomed (particularly after his ninth tumbler of punch) to 
 exercise on the person of his gigantic Dulcinea the marital )-ights which the 
 law of England intrusts to a husband — of moderately correcting his better 
 half with a stick not exceeding the thickness of a man's thumb. This was 
 publicly enunciated, at Stafford assizes, by Sir Francis Buller, one of the Jus- 
 tices of the Court of Common Pleas. The indignant wives of Stafford sent 
 him a round-robin, inquiring the dimensions of his thumb. It is particularly 
 note-worthy that Buller himself, married early, had the reputation of being 
 eminently henpecked! The great Mrs. Cook, magnanimous in her bulk and 
 strength, complacently submitted to the siriJcing jn-oofs of her small husband's 
 regard. Once, she resisted — but gently, as became her majestic nature — 
 and raising Mr. Cook from the ground, with one hand, carefully deposited him, 
 on his legs, upon the chimney-piece, whence she did not allow him to lie 
 taken until he had promised better conduct in future. It is a singular thing, 
 and might be cited as an instance of the compensating principle of nature, that 
 small men are extremely fond of possessing exceedingly lofty wives, and that 
 giantesses do affect small-statured men. For my own part, while 1 own that, 
 after all, it may not be veiy unpleasant for a tall man to bend down and salute 
 a petite lady-love, I confess that, were I a giantess, I do not think I could much 
 like a lover so short that, in order to kiss me, he must mount on a table to 
 get on a level with my lips. Mrs. C. did not long survive the visit of the illus- 
 trious Odoherty. Young in years, but stujiendous in bulk, she returned to 
 mother-earth before she was thirty years old. — M. 
 
 + Goliah, Cocknice, Goliar. 
 
 " I don't defend that rhyme, 'tis very bad, 
 Tho' us'd by Hunt and Keats, and all that squad." — WastLE. 
 
 f John Baptiste Belzoni, bom at Padua, in 1780, emigrated to England in 
 1803, and, falling into pecuniarj' difficulties, pbtained his living by displaying 
 feats of strength and activity, at Astley's Amphitheatre, in London, for which 
 his colossal stature and extraordinary muscular powers eminently qualified him. 
 At that time he was only twenty-four years old, but was six feet seven inches 
 high, and used to walk aci'oss the stage with two-and-twenty persons attached 
 by sti-aps to different parts of his body. In 1812 he exhibited in Lisbon and 
 Malta. Thence he went to Egypt, to construct a hydraulic machine for the 
 Pacha. In June, 1815, he undertook an expedition to Thebes to remove an
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 95 
 
 When she opens her eyelids she dnzzles you quite 
 
 With the vast flood of splendor that flashes around ; 
 Old Ajax, ambitious to perish in light,* 
 
 In one glance of her glory perdition had found. 
 Both in verso and in prose, to the bud of a rose. 
 
 Sweet lips have been likened by amorous beau ; 
 But her lips may be said to be like a rose-bed 
 
 Their fragrance so full is, so broad is their glow. 
 
 The similitudes used in king Solomon's book, 
 
 III laudation of some little Jewess of old, 
 If we only suppose them devised for the Cook, 
 
 Would appear the reverse of improper or bold. 
 There is many a tree that is shorter than she, 
 
 In particular that on which Johnston was swung. 
 Had the rope been about her huge arm, there's no donl/t, 
 
 That the fiiend of the Scotsman at once had been hung,|- 
 
 The cedars that grew upon Lebanon hill, 
 
 A.iid the towers of Damascus might well be applied, 
 With imperfect ideas the fancy to fill. 
 
 Of the monstrous perfections of Cook's pretty bride. 
 Oh ! if one of the name be immortal in feme, 
 
 Because round the tvido globe he adventured to roam, 
 Mr. Cook, I don't see why yourself should not be 
 
 As illustrious as he without stirring from home ! 
 
 Quoth Odohi^rtv. 
 
 enonnous bust, called " the Younger Memnon," which he succeeded in doing, 
 and sent it to England ; it is now in the British Museum, with a variety of other 
 ancient sculptures discovered and transmitted by him. Pursuing his travels 
 and researches, during which he made many discoveries highly valuable to the 
 antiquarian and historian, Belzoni crowned his exploits by discovering a vast 
 and magnificent tomb near Thebes (a representation of which he subsequently 
 exhibited in London), and by penetrating into the interior of the second great 
 pyramid of Ghizeh, which had previously been believed to consist of one solid 
 mass. Returning to England in 1820, he published a narrative of his opera- 
 tions, returned to Africa in 1822, and died at Gate, on his way to Houssa and 
 Timbuctoo, in December, 1823. He was nccompanied, in all his expeditions 
 but the last, by his wife, whom he married in England in 1803. She was, for 
 a woman, as prodigious in size and strength as Belzoni was for a man, and much 
 assisted him in his researches. — M. 
 
 * An allusion to the prayer of this great Greek hero in Homer — 
 " Ev 'baei Kai o\E(r<Tov." — M. O. 
 
 t Blackwood's contributors let no opportunity sliji of attacking their Whig 
 opponents — hence the frequent hits at " The Scotsman," a liberal paper in 
 Edinburgh, then edited by J. R. M'Culloch, the political economist. — M.
 
 96 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 THE EVE OF ST. JERRY. 
 
 [The reader will learn with astonishment that I composed the two following 
 ballads in the fourteenth year of my ag-e, i. e. A. D. 1780. I doubt if either 
 Milton or Pope rivalled this precocity of genius. — M. O.] 
 
 Dick Gossip the barber arose with the cock, 
 
 And pull'd his breeches on ; 
 Down the staircase of wood, as fast as he could, 
 
 The valiant shaver ran. 
 
 He went not to the country forth 
 
 To shave or frizzle hair ; 
 Nor to join in the battle to be fought 
 
 At Canterbury fair. 
 
 Yet his hat was fiercely cocked, and his razors in his pocket. 
 
 And liis tortin-ing irons he bore ; 
 A staff of crab-tree in his hand had he, 
 
 Full five feet long and more. 
 
 The barber return'd in three days space. 
 
 And blistered were his feet; 
 And sad and peevish were his looks, 
 
 As he turn'd the corner street. 
 
 He came not from where Canterbui-y 
 
 Ran ankle-deep in blood ; 
 Where butcher Jem, and his comrades griin, 
 
 The shaving tribe withstood. 
 
 Yet wore his eyes bruis'd black and blue ; 
 
 His cravat twisted and tore ; 
 His razors were with gore imbued — 
 
 But it was not professional gore.* 
 
 He halted at the painted pole. 
 
 Full loudly did he rap, 
 And whistled on his shaving boy, 
 
 Whose name was Johnny Strup. 
 
 Come hither, come hither, young tickle-beard. 
 And mind that you tell me true, 
 
 * We have no wish to injure the reputation of this geiitleman ; but, from the 
 above stanza, it is evident that his hand was liable to tremor, whether from 
 natural nervous debility, or the effect of brandy, we cannot take upon us to de- 
 termine. — M. OD,
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 97 
 
 For tlicse three long days that I've been away, 
 Wliat did Mrs. Gossip do? 
 
 When the clock struck eight, Mis. Gossip went sti-aight, 
 
 In spite of the pattering rain, 
 Without stay or stop to the butcher's shop, 
 
 That lives in Cleaver-lane. 
 
 I watch'd her steps, and secret came 
 
 Where she sat upon a chair. 
 No person was in the butcher's shop — 
 
 The devil a soul was there. 
 
 The second night I 'spy'd a light 
 
 As I went up the strand, 
 'Twas she who ran, with pattens on, 
 
 And a lanthern in her hand : 
 
 She laid it down upon a bench, 
 
 And shook her wet attire ; 
 And drew in the elbow chair, to warm 
 
 Her toes before the fire. 
 
 In the twinkling of a walking stick,* 
 
 A greasy butcher came, 
 And with a pair of bellows, he 
 
 Blew up the dying flame. 
 
 And many a word the butcher spoke 
 
 To Mrs. Gossip there, 
 But the rain fell fast, and it blew such a blast, 
 
 That I could not tell what they were. 
 
 The third night there the sky was fair, 
 
 There neither was wind nor rain ; 
 And again I watch'd the secret pair 
 
 At the shop in Cleaver-lane. 
 
 And I heard her say, " Dick Gossip's away, 
 
 So we'll be blithe and meiry, 
 And the bolts I'll undo, sweet butcher to you. 
 
 On the eve of good St. Jerry."t 
 
 " I can not come, I must not come" — 
 
 " For shame, faint hearted snarler, 
 Must I then moan, and sit alone. 
 
 In Dicky Gossip's parlor. 
 
 * From this line, it is to be inferred, that the oaken saplings of our ancestors 
 rivalled in elasticity the bamboo canes of our modem dandies. — M. OD, 
 t We have in vain scrutinized the kalendar for the name of this saint. — OD. 
 
 Vol. I.— 5
 
 98 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " The dog shall not tnar you, and Strap* shall not hear you, 
 
 And blankets I'll spread on the stair; 
 By the blood-red sherry,! and holy St. Jerry, 
 
 I conjure thee sweet butcher be there." 
 
 " Tho' the dog should not tear me, and Strap should not hear me. 
 
 And blankets be spread on the stair, 
 Yet there's Mr. Parrot, who sleeps in the garret, 
 
 To my footsteps he could swear." — 
 
 " Fear not, Mr. Parrot, who sleeps in the garret, 
 
 For to Hampstead the way he has ta'en ; 
 An inquest to hold, as I have been told. 
 
 On the corpse of a butcher that's slain." 
 
 He turned him around, and grimly he frown'd. 
 
 And he laugh'd right scornfully, 
 " The inquest that's held, on the man that's been killed. 
 
 May as well be held on me. 
 
 " At the lone midnight liour, when hobgoblins have power, 
 
 In thy chamber I'll appear ;" — 
 With that he was gone, and your wife left alone, 
 
 And I came running here." — 
 
 Then changed I trow, was the barber's brow, 
 
 From the chalk to the beet-root red, 
 " Now tell me the mien of the butcher thou'st seen. 
 
 By Mambrino I'll smite oft" his head." 
 
 * After his master's misfortune, this gentleman settled in the north, and was 
 the great grand-father of that Strap, so honorably noticed by Smollet. [In 
 Roderick Random. — M.] 
 
 t This valuable species of wine is unfortunately for modern epicures now un- 
 known. [Any wine-merchant who is up to his business, could produce blood- 
 red sherry, or any other species of drink, at four-and-twcnty hours' notice. George 
 IV. had a favonte wine of which a large supply was laid in. He capiiciously took 
 a fancy to some other tap and the members of his household drank up the wine. 
 It pleased the King, one day at lunch, to announce that, at a grand dinner that 
 evening, he would sport the neglected wine. His butler was at his wits-ends, 
 and sent for a wine-merchant to whom he told bis story. " Any of the wine 
 left?" asked the vintner. A solitai-y bottle was found. " Very good," said 
 he, " tell me the exact hour you will want this fancy wine and I shall give you 
 a supply." The dinner took place, the favorite wine was called for, was drank, 
 was piaised. The wine-merchant had fabricated the wine, and thus saved the 
 credit of his friend, the butler. This anecdote was given in evidence, in 1852, 
 before a committee of the House of Commons appointed to investigate the sub- 
 ject of the duties on wine. I had previously heard it, twenty years before, from 
 the King's butler, Mr. Valimi. — M.
 
 MEMOIR OP MORGAN ODOHERTY. 99 
 
 " On the point of his nose, which was like a red rose, 
 
 Was a wait of enormous size; 
 And he made a g^reat vaporing with a blue and white apron, 
 
 And red stockings roll'd up to his thighs."* 
 
 "Thou liest, thon liest, young Johnny Strap, 
 
 It is all a fib you tell, 
 For the butcher was taken, as dead as bacon. 
 
 From the bottom of Carisbrook well." 
 
 " My master attend, and I'll be your friend, 
 
 I don't value madam a button ; 
 But I heard Mistress say, don't leave, I pray, 
 
 Sweet Timothy Slaughter-mutton." 
 
 He ope'd the shop door, the counter he jump'd o'er. 
 
 And overturned Strap, 
 Then bolted up the stair, where he found his lady fair. 
 
 With the Kitten on her lap. 
 
 " Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright,— 
 
 Now hail, thou barber trim. 
 What news from Canterbury fight. 
 
 What news from bloody Jem ?"t 
 
 " Canterbury is red with gore, 
 
 For many a barber fell ; 
 And the mayor has charg'd us for evermore, 
 
 To watch the butcher's well." — 
 
 Mrs. Gossip blush'd, and her cheek was flush'd, 
 
 But the barber shook his head ; 
 And having observed that the night was cold, 
 
 He tumbled into bed. 
 
 Mrs. Gossip lay and mourn'd, and Dicky toss'd and turn'd; 
 
 And he mutter'd while half asleep. 
 The stone is large and round, and the halter tight and sound. 
 
 And the well thirty fathoms deep. 
 
 The gloomy dome of St. Paul's struck three, 
 
 The morning began to blink. 
 And Gossip slept, as if his wife 
 
 Had put laudanum in his drink. 
 
 * This was no doubt a bold and masterly attempt of the butcher to imitate 
 plush biieeches. — M. OD. 
 
 t It is astonishing that Hume and other historians make no mention of this 
 bloody encounter, which threatened to exterminate the whole shaving genera- 
 tion ; or, at least, scatter them like the twelve tribes of Israel. — M. OD.
 
 100 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Mrs. Gossip drew wide the curtains aside, 
 
 The candle had bum'd to the socket, 
 And lo ! Timothy stood, all covered with blood, 
 
 With his right hand in his pocket. 
 "Dear Slaughter-mutton, away," she cried, 
 
 "I pray thee do not stop" — 
 " Mrs. Gossip, I know, who sleeps by thy side, 
 
 But he sleeps as sound as a top. 
 " Near Carisbrook well I lately fell 
 
 Beneath a barber's knife ; 
 The coroner's inquest was held on me — 
 
 But it did not restore me to life.* 
 " By thy husband's hand, was I foully slain. 
 
 He threw me into the well, 
 And my sprite in the shop, in Cleaver-lane, 
 
 For a season is doom'd to dwell." — 
 Love master'd fear — " What brings thee here t" 
 
 The Love-sick matron said, — 
 " Is thy fair carcase gone to pot?" — 
 
 The goblin shook his head. 
 " I slaughter'd sheep, and slaughter'd was. 
 
 And for breaking the marriage band, 
 My flesh and bones go lo David Jonest — 
 
 But let us first shake hands." 
 He laid his left fist, on an oaken chest, 
 And, as she cried — " don't burn us;" 
 With the other he grasp'd her by the nose, 
 
 And scorch'd her like a furnace. 
 There is a felon in Newgate jail, 
 
 Who dreads the next assize ; 
 A woman doth dwell, in Bedlam cell. 
 
 With a patch between her eyes. 
 The woman who dwells in Bedlam cell. 
 
 Whose reason is not worth a button. 
 Is the wife of the barber in Newgate jail. 
 Who slaughter'd Slaughter-mutton. 
 
 * It seems to us an unconscionable expectation of the butcher, that the in- 
 quest of the coroner was to restore the " vis vitas. "M. OD. 
 
 t Apparently one of the slang names for the " hangman of creation," omitted 
 by Burns in his address to that celebrated personage. [It is somewhat sur- 
 prising for Odoherty not to know that Davy Jones is the Azrael, of Death- 
 Angel of Sailors. In their terse phraseology, " going to Davy Jones's locker" 
 intimates a departure from this mortal life. — M.]
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 
 
 101 
 
 THE RIME OF THE AUNCIENT WAGGONERB 
 
 IN FOUR PARTS. 
 
 Part First. 
 It is an iiuncient Waggonere, 
 
 And hee stoppeth one of nine : — 
 " Now wherefore dost thou grip me soe 
 
 With that horny fist of thine ?" 
 
 An auneient wag- 
 gonerp stoppi'th 
 ane tailore goiu"; to 
 a wedding, where- 
 at he hath been ap- 
 pointed to be best 
 
 nianne, and to take a hand in the casting of the slippere. 
 
 *' The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, 
 
 And thither I must walke ; 
 Soe, by youre leave, I must be gone, 
 
 I have noe time for talke !" 
 Hee holds him with his horny fist — 
 
 " There w as a wain," quothe hee, 
 " Hold offe thou raggamouffine tykke," — . 
 
 Eftsoones his fist dropped hee. 
 Hee satte him downe upon a stone, 
 
 With ruefulle looks of feare; 
 And thus began this tippyse manne. 
 
 The red nosed waggonere. 
 "The waine is fulle, the horses pulle, 
 
 Merrilye did we trotte 
 Alonge the bridge, alonge the road, 
 
 A jolly crewe I wotte ;" • 
 
 And here the tailore smotte his breaste. 
 
 He smelte the cabbage potte ! 
 
 "The nighte was darke, like Noe's arke, 
 
 Oure waggone moved alonge ; 
 The hail pour'd faste, loude roared the blaste, 
 
 Yet stille we moved alonge ; 
 And sung in chorus, ' Cease loud Bonis,' 
 
 A very charminge songe. 
 " ' Bravoe, bravissimoe,' I cried. 
 
 The sounde was quite elatinge; 
 But, in a trice, upon the ice. 
 
 We hearde the horses skaitinge. 
 " The ice was here, the ice was there, 
 
 It was a dismale mattere, 
 To see the cargoe, one by one, 
 
 Flouuderinge in the wattere ! 
 
 The waggonere in 
 mood for chat, and 
 admits of no ex- 
 cuse. 
 
 The tailore seized 
 with the ague. 
 
 He listeneth like a 
 three years and a 
 half child. 
 
 The appetite of the 
 tailore whetted by 
 the smell of cab- 
 bage. 
 
 The waggonere, in 
 talking anent Bo- 
 reas, maketh bad 
 orthographye. 
 
 Their mirthe inteo^ 
 rupted. 
 
 And the passengers 
 exercise them- 
 selves in the pleas- 
 ant art of swim- 
 minge, as do^'th al- 
 so their prog, to 
 
 witte, great store of colde roasted beef; item, ane beef- 
 Btake pye ; item, viii choppines of usquebaugh. 
 
 * The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner is so well known that extracts, for the 
 sake of comparison with the parody, are unnecessary. — M.
 
 102 
 
 THE ODOHEKTY PAPERS. 
 
 The wageonere 
 hailethe une goose, 
 with aiie novel eal- 
 utatione. 
 
 The tailore impa- 
 tiont to be gone, 
 but is forcibly per- 
 suaded to remain. 
 
 " With rout and roare, we reached the shore, 
 
 And never a soul did sinke ; 
 But in the rivere, gone for evere, 
 
 Swum our meate and drinke. 
 
 " At lengthe we spied a goode grey goose, 
 
 Thorough the snow it came ; 
 And with the butte ende of my whippe, 
 
 I hailed it in Goddhis name. 
 
 " It staggered as it had been drunke, 
 
 So dexterous was it hitte ; 
 Of brokene boughs we made a fire, 
 
 Thomme Loncheone roasted itte."— 
 " Be done, thou tipsye waggonere, 
 
 " To the feaste I must awaye." 
 
 The waggonere seized him bye the coatte, 
 
 And forced him tliere to staye, 
 Begginge, in gentlemanlie style, 
 
 Butte halfe ane hour's delaye. 
 
 THE RIME OF THE AUNCIENT WAGGONERE. 
 Part Second. 
 
 The waggonere's 
 bowels yearn to- 
 wards the Bunne. 
 
 The passengeis 
 tlirowe the blame 
 of the goose massa- 
 cre on the innocout 
 waggonere. 
 
 The sunne sufTeres 
 aue artificial 
 eclipse, and hor- 
 ror follows, the 
 Biime not being 
 mentioned in the 
 Delfaste Almauacke. 
 
 "The crimson sunne was rising o'ere 
 
 The verge of the horizon; 
 Upon my worde, as faire a sunne 
 
 As ever I clapped eyes onne. 
 " 'Twill bee ane comfortable thinge," 
 
 The mutinous crewe 'gan crye ; 
 " 'Twill be an comfortable thinge. 
 
 Within the jaile to lye ; 
 Ah! execrable wretche," saide they, 
 
 " Thatte caused the goose to die .' 
 " The day was drawing near itte's close, 
 
 The sunne was well nighe settinge ; 
 When lo ' it seemed as iffe his face 
 
 Was veiled with fringe-warke-nettinge. 
 
 Various hypothe- 
 ses on the subject, 
 frome which the 
 
 Somme saide itte was ane apple tree. 
 Laden with goodlye fruite, 
 passengeres draw Somme swore itte was ane foreigne birde, 
 vvrouge conclu- g^jj^g ^^j^ jj ,y^g ^^^ ,,rute : 
 
 Alas ! it was ane bumbailiffe, 
 Riding in pursuits !
 
 MEMOm OF MOilGAN ODOHEUTY, 
 
 loa 
 
 " A line and ciye slcrte uppe bcliiiul, 
 Whilke smotG cure ears like thunder, 
 
 Within the waggone there was drcde, 
 Astonishmente and wonder. 
 
 " One after one, the rascalls rann. 
 
 And from the caiTe did jump; 
 One after one, one after one. 
 
 They felle with heavy thump. 
 
 " Six miles ane houre theye offe did secure, 
 Like shippes on ane stormye ocean, 
 
 Theiie garments flappinge in the winde, 
 With ane shorte uneasy motion. 
 
 *' Their bodies with their legs did flye, 
 Theye fled withe feare and glyffe ; 
 
 Why star'st thoue soe ? — With one goode blow, 
 I felled the bumbailifife !" 
 
 Ane lovplye sound 
 nrisetli ; ittes ef- 
 fects described. 
 
 The passengers 
 throw somersets. 
 
 The WBggonere 
 coinplimenteth the 
 bunibailiffe with 
 ane Meudoza. 
 
 THE RIME OF THE AUNOIENT WAGGONE RE. 
 Part Third. 
 
 " I FEARE thee, auncient waggonere, 
 
 I feare fhy hornye fiste, 
 For itle is stained with gooses gore, 
 
 And bailifife's blood, I wist. 
 
 " I fear to gette ane fisticuffe 
 
 From thy leathern knuckles brown ; 
 
 With that the tailore strove to ryse— 
 The waggonere thrusts him down. 
 
 " ' Thou craven, if thou mov'st a limbe, 
 I'll give thee cause for feare ;'^ 
 
 And thus went on, that tipsye man, 
 The red-billed waggonere. 
 
 " The bumbailifife so beautiful] ! 
 
 Declared itte was no joke. 
 For, to his knowledge, both his legs. 
 
 And fifteen ribbes were broke. 
 
 " The lighte was gone, the nighte came on, 
 Ane hundrede lantherns sheen, 
 
 Glimmerred upon the kinge's highwaye, 
 Ane lovelye sighte I ween. 
 
 The tailore meet- 
 eth Corporal 
 Feara 
 
 The bailiffe com- 
 plaineth of consid- 
 erable derange- 
 ment of his animal 
 economye. 
 
 Policemrn with 
 their lanthernes, 
 pursue the waggo- 
 nere.
 
 104 
 
 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 Steppeth 20 feete 
 in imitatione of the 
 Admirable Crich- 
 toua. 
 
 Complaineth of 
 foul play, and fal- 
 leth down in ane 
 trance. 
 
 One acteth the 
 jDiirte of Job's com- 
 ■fortere. 
 
 " ' Is it he,' quoth one, ' is this the manne, 
 I'll laye the rascalle stiffe ;' — 
 
 With cruel stroke the beak he broke 
 Of the harmless bumbailiflfe. 
 
 *' The threatening of the saucye rogue 
 
 No more I coulde abide. 
 Advancing forthe my goode right legge. 
 
 Three paces and a stride, 
 I sent my lefte foot dexterously 
 
 Seven inches thro' his side. 
 
 " Up came the seconde from the vanne; 
 
 We had scarcely fought a round, 
 When some one smote me from behinde, 
 
 And I fell down in a swound : 
 
 " And when my head began to clear, 
 
 I heard the yemering crew — 
 Quoth one, ' this man hath penance done, 
 
 And penance more shall do.' " 
 
 THE RIME OF THE AUNCIENT WAGGONERE. 
 
 Tlie waggonere 
 maketh ane ehrewd 
 observation. 
 
 The waggonere 
 tickleth the spleen 
 of the jailor, who 
 daunces ane Fa- 
 dango. 
 
 Rpjoicethe in the 
 fragrance of the 
 
 Dreadeth Shoan 
 Dhu, the corporal 
 of the guarde. 
 
 Part Fourth. 
 
 " Oh ! Freedom is a glorious thing ! — 
 
 And tailore, by the bye, 
 I'd rather in a halter swing, 
 
 Than in a dungeon lie. 
 
 " The jailore came to bi-ing me foode, 
 
 Forget it will I never. 
 How he turned up the white o' his eye, 
 
 When I stuck him in the liver. 
 
 " His threade of life was snapt ; once more 
 
 I reached the open streete ; 
 The people sung out ' Gardyloo' 
 
 As I ran down the streete. 
 Methought the blessed air of heaven 
 
 Never smelte so sweete. 
 
 " Once more upon the broad highwaye, 
 I walked with feare and drede ; 
 
 And every fifteen steppes I tooke 
 I turned about my heade, 
 
 For feare the corporal of the guarde 
 Might close behind me trede !
 
 MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY. 
 
 105 
 
 " Beliold upon the western wave, 
 Settetli the broad brij^ht sunne ; 
 
 So I must onward, as I have 
 Full fifteen miles to runne ; — 
 
 '• And should the hailliifes hither come 
 To aske whilke waye I've gone, 
 
 Tell them I took the othere road. 
 Said hee, and trotted onne." 
 
 The tailore rushed into the roome, 
 O'erturning three or foure ; 
 
 Fractured his skulle against the walle, 
 And worde spake never more ! ! 
 
 The waggonere 
 taketh leave of the 
 tailore, 
 
 to whome ane 
 small accidente 
 happeneth. 
 Whereupon fol- 
 loweth the morale 
 very proper to he had in minde by all memliers of the 
 Dilettanti Society when they come over the bridge at 
 these hourcs. Wher<>(bre let them take heed and not 
 lay blame where it lyeth nott. 
 
 Morale. ■ 
 Such is the fate of foolish men, 
 
 The danger all may see. 
 Of those, who list to waggonere, 
 
 And keepe bad companye. 
 
 5*
 
 ^mnvitn^ oi (BMotnvt^.' 
 
 Kntrotruction. 
 
 I HAVE often thought that the world loses much valuable in- 
 formation from the laziness or diffidence of people, who have it 
 in their power to communicate facts and observations resulting 
 from their own experience, and yet neglect doing so. The idlest 
 or most unobservant has seen, heard, or thought something, 
 which might conduce to the general stock of knowledge. A sin- 
 gle remark may throw light on a doubtful or a knotty point — a 
 solitary fact, observed by a careless individual, and which may 
 have escaped the notice of other observers, however acute, may 
 suffice to upset, or to establish, a theory. 
 
 For my part, my life has been abundantly checkered. I have 
 mixed in society of all kinds, high and low. I have read much, 
 wrote much, and thought a little; — very little, it is tme, but 
 still, more than nine tenths of people who write books. I am 
 still in the prime of my life, and, I believe, in the vigor of my 
 intellect. I intend, therefore, to write down as they occur to me, 
 
 * The Maxims of Otloherty appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, in 1824, 
 sViortly after Dr. Maginn had changed his residence from Cork to London. 
 They were very popular, nearly all the provincial journals quoting largely from 
 them. No. I. appeared in May, No. II. in June, and No. III. in September, 
 1824. They were collected and published, in book form, by Messrs. Black- 
 wood, in 1849 — seven years after Maginn's death. The strong common sense, 
 mingled with shrewdness and keen knowledge of the world, which characterize 
 them, has rarely been nvalled. The late Dr. Macnish attempted it, in his 
 " Book of Aphorisms" (annotated, very ludicrously, by Maginu), but by no 
 means " hit the white." Maginn was fond of referring to and quoting from 
 his "Maxims," not only in subsequent articles, but in conversation. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 107 
 
 without binding myself to any order, whether expressed in- un- 
 derstood, any general reflections that may occur on men and 
 manners, on the modes of thought and action, on the hopes, 
 fears, wishes, doubts, loves, and hatreds, of mankind. It is 
 probable that what I shall write will not be worth reading. I 
 can not help that. All my bargain is, that I shall give genuine 
 reflection, and narrate nothing but what I have seen and heard. 
 I was one day in the Salopian Coffeehouse, near Charing- 
 Cross,* taking a bowl of ox-tail soup, when a venerable and impo- 
 sing-looking gentleman came in. The coffee-room of that house 
 is small, and it so happened that every box was occupied — that 
 is, had a gentleman or two in it. The elderly gentleman looked 
 about a little confused, and every body in the room gazed at 
 him, without offering him a share of any table. Such is the 
 politeness and affability of the English. I instantly rose, and 
 requested him to be seated opposite me. He complied with a 
 bow ; and, after he had ordered what he Avanted, we fell into 
 conversation. He was a thoughtful man, who delivered his sen- 
 tences in a weighty and well-considered style. He did not say 
 much, but what he did say was marked with the impress of 
 thought. I found, indeed, that he was a man of only one re- 
 flection ; but that was a great one. He cast his eye solemnly 
 over the morning paper, which happened to contain tbe announce- 
 ment of many bankruptcies. This struck the key-note of his 
 one reflection. " Sir," said he to me, laying down the paperj and 
 taking his spoon cautiously between his fingers, without making 
 any attempt to lift it to his mouth, " Sir, I have now lived in this 
 world sixty-three years, through at least forty of which I have 
 not been a careless or inattentive spectator of what has been 
 passing around me ; and I have uniformly found, when a man 
 lives annually on a sum less than his year's income — say, five 
 hundred, or five thousand, or five hundred thousand pounds — 
 for the sum makes no difference — that that man's accounts are 
 
 * A celebrated coffeehouse, close to Drummond's Bank, which still main- 
 tains its reputation. When Dr. Buckland, the geologist, now Dean of West- 
 minster, was Canon of Christ's Church, Oxford, used to visit London, he 
 invariably lived at the Salopian, and his example induced many of "the dons" 
 of Oxford to frequent the house.— *M.
 
 108 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 clear at the end of the twelvemonth, and that he does not run 
 into debt. On the contrary, I have uniformly found, when a 
 man lives annually on a sum more than his year's income — say, 
 five hundred, five thousand, or five hundred thousand pounds— 
 for the sum makes no difference — that that man's accounts are 
 liable, at the end of the twelvemonth, to get into confusion, and 
 that it must end by his running into debt. Believe me, sir, that 
 such is the result of my forty and odd years' experience in the 
 world." 
 
 The oracular gravity in which this sentence was delivered — 
 for he paused between every word, I might say between every 
 syllable, and kept the uplifted spoon all the time in suspense 
 between the plate of mulligatawny and his lip, which did not 
 receive the savoury contents until the last syllable died away — 
 struck me with peculiar emphasis, and I puzzled my brain to 
 draw out, if possible, something equally profound to give in re- 
 tura. Accordingly, after looking straight across at him for a 
 minute, with my head firmly imbedded on my hands, while my 
 elbows rested on the table, I addressed him thus : " Sir,** said I, 
 " I have only lived thirty-three years in the world, and can not, 
 of course, boast of the vast experience which you have had ; 
 neither have my reasoning faculties been exei'ted so laboriously 
 as yours appear to have been ; but from twenty years' consider- 
 ation, I can assure you that I have observed it as a general nile, 
 admitting of no exception, and thereby in itself forming an ex- 
 ception to a genei'al rule, that if a man walks through Piccadilly, 
 or the Strand, or Oxford street — for the street makes no differ- 
 ence, provided it be of sufficient length — without an umbrella 
 or other defence against a shower, during a heavy fall of rain, 
 he is inevitably wet ; while, on the contrary, if a man walks 
 through Piccadilly, or the Strand, or Oxford street — for the 
 street makes no difference — during fine dry weather, he runs 
 no chance whatever of being wet to the skin. Believe me, sir, 
 that such is the result of my twenty and odd years' experience 
 in the world." 
 
 The elderly gentleman had by this time finished his soup. 
 " Sir," said he, " I agree with you. I like to hear rational con- 
 versation. Be so good as to give me your card. Here is mine.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 109 
 
 nnme an early day to dine with mc. Waiter, what's to pay ? 
 Will you, sir, try my snuflf ? I take thirty-seven. I wish you, 
 sir, a good morning." So saying, he quitted the box, leaving me 
 to ruminate upon the discovery made by a man who had lived 
 sixty-three* years in the world, and had observed its ways for 
 forty and odd years of that period. I thought with myself, that 
 I, too, if I set about it seriously to reflect, might perhaps come 
 to something as striking and original ; and have accordingly set 
 about this little work, which I dedicate to your kindness, gentle 
 reader. If from it you can extract even one observation condu- 
 cive toward making you a better or a happier man, the end has 
 been answered which was proposed to himself by, 
 Gentle reader, 
 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 Very humble servant, 
 
 Salopian, May 1, 1824, P. T. T. 
 
 Morgan Odoherty. 
 
 IWavfm jFirst. 
 
 If you intend to drink much after dmner, never drink much 
 at dinner, and particularly avoid mixing wines. If you be- 
 gin with Sauterne, for example, stick to Sauterne, though, on 
 the whole, red wines are best. Avoid malt liquor most cau- 
 tiously ; for nothing is so apt to get into the head unawares, or, 
 what is almost as bad, to fill the stomach with wind. Cham- 
 pagne, on the latter account, is bad. Port, three glasses at din- 
 ner — claret, three bottles after: behold the fair proportion, and 
 the most excellent wines. 
 
 ilWapw ScconO. 
 
 It is laid down in fashionable life, that you must drink cham- 
 pagne after white cheeses —water after red. This is mere non- 
 sense. The best thing to be drunk after cheese is strong ale, 
 for the taste is more coherent. We should always take our
 
 110 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 ideas of those things from the most constant practitioners. Now, 
 you never hear of a drayman, who hves almost entirely on 
 bread and cheese, thinking of washing it down with water, far 
 less with champagne.* He knows what is better. As for cham- 
 pagne, there is a reason against drinking it after cheese, which 
 I could give if it were cleanly. It is not so, and therefore I am 
 silent concerning it ; but it is true. 
 
 N. B. — According to apophthegm the first, ale is to be avoided 
 in case a wet night is expected — as should cheese also. I re- 
 commend ale only when there is no chance of a man's getting 
 a skinful. 
 
 J^aftm SEi)ictJ. 
 
 A PUNSTER, diu'ing dinner, is a most inconvenient animal. 
 He should, therefore, be immediately discomfited. The art of 
 discomfiting a punster is this : Pretend to be deaf; and after he 
 has committed his pun, and just before he expects people to 
 laugh at it, beg his pardon, and request him to repeat it again. 
 After you have made him do this three times, say, ! that is a 
 pun, I believe. I never knew a punster venture a third exhibi- 
 tion under similar treatment. It requires a little nicety, so as 
 to make him repeat it in proper time. If well done, the com- 
 pany laugh at the punster, arid then he is ruined for ever. 
 
 fjaaFim JFoiutf). 
 
 A FINE singer, after dinner, is a still greater bore, for he stops 
 the wine. This we pardon in a slang or drinking song, for such 
 things serve as shoeing-horns to draw on more bottles, by jol- 
 lifying your host ; so that, though the supply may be slow, it is 
 more copious in the end ; but a fine-song-singer only serves to 
 put people in mind of tea. You, therefore, not only lose the cir- 
 culation of the bottle while he is getting throvigh his crotchets and 
 quavers, but he actually tends to cut off the final supply. He, 
 then, by all means is to be discouraged. These fellows are 
 are always most insufferably conceited, so that it is not very 
 easy to keep them down — but it is possible, nevertheless. One 
 
 * How could a drayman obtain champagne 7 — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. Ill 
 
 of the best rules is, as soon as be has sung the first verse, and 
 while he is taking breath for the second, applaud him most vocif- 
 erously, as if all was over ; and say to the gentleman farthest 
 from you at table, that you admire the conclusion of this song 
 very much. It is ten to one but his musical pride will take 
 affront, and he will refuse to sing any more, saying or muttering 
 something savage about yoiu* want of taste or politeness ; for 
 that, of course, you will not care three straws, having extin- 
 guished him. If the company press him to go on, you are safe, 
 for he will then decidedly grow restive, to show his importance, 
 and you will escape his songs for the rest of the evening. 
 
 Or, after he has really done, and is sucking in the bravo of 
 the people at table, stretch across to him and say. You sung that 
 very well, Mr. a-a-a, very well indeed, but did you not (laying a 
 most decided emphasis upon the not), did you not hear Mr. In- 
 cledon, or Mr. Braham (or anybody else whom you think most 
 annoying to him) sing in some play, pantomime, or something ? 
 When he answers, No, in a pert, snappish style — for all these 
 people are asses — resume your most erect posture, and say 
 quite audibly to your next neighbor — So I thougJu. This 
 twice repeated is a dose. 
 
 fSL^^iim iFiftf). 
 
 Brougham the politician is to be hated, but not so every 
 Brougham. In this apophthegm I particularly have an eye to 
 John Waugh Brougham, Esq., wine-merchant, or oivoCiLi>\oi, in the 
 court of the Pnyx, Athens, and partner of Samuel Anderson, 
 Esq. — a man for whom I have a particular regard. This Mr. 
 Brougham* has had the merit of re-introducing among the 
 
 * This Mr. Brougham was a brother of Henry Brougham, Lord Chancellor 
 of England from 1830 to 1834. The firm of Anderson and Brougham were 
 unfortunate as wine merchants. When Lord Brougham had the opportunity 
 (his brother had died in the meantime), he appointed Mr. Anderson to the lu- 
 crative office of Registrar of the Court of Chancery, a post which he occupied 
 until his death, four years ago. Anderson is mentioned in the famous Chaldee 
 Manuscript of Blackwood'' s Magazine, in the following verse: "And in the 
 fourth band I saw the face of Samuel which is a mason, who is clothed in glo- 
 rious apparel, and his face was as the face of the moon shining in the north-
 
 112 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 doToxdoves of Attica tlie custom of drinking Vin de Bordeaux from 
 the tap — a custom which, more especially in hot weather, is 
 deserving of much commendation and diligent observance. One 
 gets the tipple much cheaper in this way ; and I have found, by 
 personal experience, that the headache, of which copious potation 
 of this potable is productive, yields at once to a dose of the 
 Seidlitz, whereas that arising from old-bottled claret not unfre- 
 quently requires a touch of the Glauber — an offensive salt, act- 
 ing harshly and ungenteelly upon the inner Adam. 
 
 IHajrim Sijrtf). 
 
 A Whig is an ass.* 
 
 |»a):im Sbcbentjj. 
 
 Tap claret tastes best out of a pewter pot. There is some- 
 thing solemn and affecting in these renewals of the antique ob- 
 servances of the symposium. I never was so pleasantly situated 
 as the first time I saw en the board of friend Francis Jeffrey, 
 Esq., editor of a periodical work published in Athens, a man for 
 Avhom I have a particular regard, an array of these venerable 
 concerns, inscribed "More Majorum." Mr. Hallam furnished 
 the classic motto to Mr. Jeffrey, who is himself as ignorant of 
 Latin as Mr. Cobbett ; for he understood the meaning to be, 
 " more in the joram," until Mr. Pillans expounded to him the 
 real meaning of Mr. Hallam.t 
 
 west." This was in 1817. In No. LXV. of die " Noctcs Ambrosianae" (Mny 
 1834) Anderson is introduced as one of Nortli's guests, under the name of 
 " Registrar Sam," and, whether in conversation, singing, or translating from 
 the Greek — is made to keep up the ball agreeably and cleverly, with Old Kit, 
 Hogg, and Tickler.— M. 
 
 * This was the constant assertion of Blackwood. — M. 
 
 t Lord Jeffrey (born in 1773 and died iji 1850) edited the Edinburgh Review 
 for nearly thirty years, and exercised great influence on the public mind, in lit- 
 erature and politics, as a critic and partisan. Under him, the Review was the 
 organ and champion of the Whig party in Great Britain, from the premiership 
 of Pitt, in 1802, to that of Wellington, in 1829. In parliament, which he 
 entered at the age of 63, Jeffrey completely failed. In 1834, he was 
 made a Scottish Judge, in which capacity he gave general satisfaction. — Mr
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 113 
 
 i^apm 3BiQ\)t\). 
 
 A STORY-TELLER IS SO often a mighty pleasant fellow, that it 
 may be deemed a difficult matter to decide M'hether he onght to 
 be stopped or not. In case, however, that it be required, far 
 the best way of doing it is Jliis : After he has discharged his 
 first tale, say across, to some confederate (for this method rer 
 quires confederates, like some jugglers' tricks), Nu?nber one. 
 As soon as he has told a second, in like manner say, Number 
 tico. Perhaps he may perceive it, and if so, he stops : if not, 
 the very moment his third story is told, laugh out quite loud, 
 and cry to your friend, " I trouble you for the sovereign. You 
 see I was right, when I betted that he woiUd tell these three 
 stories exactly in that order, in the first twenty minutes after his 
 arrival in the room." Depend on it he is mum after that. 
 
 iRilayim Wintf). 
 
 If your host is curious in wines, he deserves much encourage- 
 ment, for the mere operation of tasting seven or eight kinds of 
 wine, goes far toward pouching for you an additional bottle 
 However, it may happen that he is becoming a bore by bam- 
 ming you with stufi' of wine, Avhich he says is sherry of God 
 knows how long, or hock of the days of Noah, and it all the 
 while the rinsing of wine-tubs. That must be put down with 
 the utmost severity. Good manners will not peraiit you to tell 
 him the truth, and rebel at once under such unworthy treat- 
 ment ; but if you wear a stiff collar, a la George Quati-e,* mMch. 
 may be done by turning your head round on the top of the ver- 
 tebrae, and asking him in the most cognoscenti style, " Pray, sir, 
 
 Hallam, the historian of the Middle Ages, is one of the best classical scholars 
 in England. Byron's satire mentioned him as 
 
 " Classic Hallam, much renowned for Greek," 
 and was personally severe on "paltry Pillars," who has long been Professor 
 of Latin in the University of Edinburgh. — M. 
 
 * The high black stock, worn during the first five-and-thirty years of the pres- 
 ent century, was introduced by George IV., when Piince of Walos, to hide the 
 marks of scrofula on his neck and the lower part of his face. — M.
 
 114 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 have yoiT ever tasted slieeraz,* tlie favourite wine of Hafiz, you 
 know?" — Perhaps he may have tasted it, and thereby defeat 
 you by saying so ; in which case you must immediately make a 
 double reserve by adding — "For it always puts me in mind of 
 that famous Chinese wine that they make at Yang-poo-tchoo- 
 foo-nim-pang, which strikes me to be most delicious drinking." 
 If you beat him this way two or three times, by mentioning 
 wines he never heard of, [and in order to make quite sure of 
 that, it will be best to mention those which never were in exist- 
 ence,] you will out-crow him in the opinion of the company, and 
 he, finding his popularity declining, will not go on with any fur- 
 ther display. 
 
 £Utif\m CTentJI). 
 
 On the subject of the last apophthegm, it must be remarked, 
 that you should know that the most famous Rhenish is made at 
 Johannisberg, a very small farm — so small, that every drop 
 made on it is consumed by the proprietor, Prince Metternich, or 
 given away to crowned heads.t You can always dumfound any 
 
 * Respecting this wine, an amusing anecdote is related in Lockhart's Lite 
 of Scott. Sir John Malcolm, alike distinguished as a diplomatist, soldier, and 
 man of letters, who had been British Minister at the Court of Persia, sent Sir 
 Walter a butt of she^raz, from Ispahan. Some years after, at Abbotsford, it 
 was mentioned that such a wine had been received, and some of it was ordered 
 up, Scott remarking that he had no recollection of any thing extraordinary in 
 the flavor or appearance of the wine. It turned out that it had been bottled 
 and binned as Sherry! As every body has not "tasted sheeraz, the favoritj 
 wine of Hafiz," the poet, and as I have (it was brought over by the late Ad- 
 miral Ranier, and had been forty-six years in bottle when it reached my lips), 
 I beg to say that it resembles Madeira in color, and in taste is a cross between 
 the best quality of that fine wine, and the most delicate Sherry. — M. 
 
 t This is not exactly the case. The castle of Johannisberg is situated on a 
 hill in the Rheingau. The estate is famous for its Rhenish wines, the best 
 quality of which is made on the castle-hill itself. Napoleon presented ciistle 
 and vineyards to Marshal Kellermann, in 1807. They were reclaimed, in 1814, 
 by the Emperor of Austria, who gave them to his prime Minister, Prince Met- 
 ternich, in 1816, on condition of receiving a tenth of the annual produce. The 
 sixty acres of this land yield about 32,500 bottles — but, in favorable vintage 
 years this quantity has been doubled. This is the best wine, for an inferior qual- 
 ity is also produced in the same locality. The price is very high — some of the 
 older Johannisberg has been sold at the rate of $15 to $20 a bottle — but iho
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 115 
 
 panegyrist of his Rhine wine, by mentioning this circumstance. 
 " Ay, ay," you may say, " it is pretty passable stuff, but it is 
 not Johanuisberg. I lived three years in that part of the coun- 
 try, and I flatter myself I am a judge." 
 
 iHayim 1EU\jcnt|), 
 
 The reverend Edward Irving, a man for whom I have a par- 
 ticular regard, is nevertheless a quack.* I never saw so horri- 
 ble a squint — gestures so uncouth, a " tottle of the whole" so 
 abominable. He is a dandy about his hair and his shirt-collar. 
 He is no more an orator than his countryman Josepht is a phi- 
 losopher. Set down as maxim the eleventh, that every popular 
 preacher is a goose. 
 
 iWajrim STtoeUt^. 
 
 4 
 
 The work " De Tribus Impostoribus" never had any exist- 
 
 cullivntion of this particular vineyard is so expensive and the cost of manufacture 
 80 dear (from tlie gi'eat care required), that the profit is by no means large. 
 Johannisberg can be purchased, but at a costly price. It may simply bo de- 
 scribed as the finest Rhenish in the world. When the cork is drawn, the 
 aromatic perfume from the wine literally pervades the atmosphere. Of course, 
 ice should never go near it. — M. 
 
 * If not actually " a quack," the Rev. Edward Irving, during his early pop- 
 ularity as a preacher in London, had many vei-y quackish ways. He was born 
 in 1792, and, as Minister of the Scottish Church, became assistant to Dr. Chal- 
 mers, then of St. John's Church, Glasgow. In 1823, he was engaged as preach- 
 er to the Caledonian Asylum, in Hatton Garden, London. Here the novelty 
 of his style and manner, and the striking peculiarity of his personal appearance 
 (he was tall and slight, with long dark hair parted on his forehead and falling 
 in curls on his shoulders, to say nothing of a decided obliquity of vision) im- 
 mediately made him popular. His sermons, when published, were simply 
 clever — so much did they owe to his peculiar delivery. In 1827-'30, Irving'g 
 religious opinions became so eccentric (lie had taken up with " prophecy" and 
 "the gift of tongues") that he was formally deposed from the Ministry, liy the 
 Scottish Church, on the proven charge of heresy. He died in Decembei-, 1834, 
 of premature old age. Theodore Hook squibbed him as "Dr. Squintem" — 
 but the nickname, poor as it was, was not even original, as Foote had applied 
 it, long before, to the Rev. George Whitefield, the preacher. — M. 
 
 t Joseph Hume was " Father of the House," as the oldest member of the 
 House of Commons. He was born in 1778 and died Feb. 20, 1855. — M.
 
 llG Tllfi ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 dice * — Well, be it so — I intend to supply this deficiency soon, 
 and my trio shall consist of Neddy Irving, Joe Hume, and The 
 Writer Tam.t Three men for whom I have a particular regard. 
 
 fWavim E'iiivUcntf), 
 
 Poetry does not sell again in England for thirty years to 
 come. Mark my words. No poetry sells at present, except 
 Scott's and Byron's, and these not much. None of even their 
 later poems have sold. Halidon Hill, Don Juan, &c. &c. are 
 examples of what I mean. Wordsworth's poetry never sold : 
 ditto Southey's : ditto even Coleridge's, which is worth them 
 both put together : ditto John Wilson's : ditto Lamb's : ditto 
 Lloyd's : ditto Miss Baillie's : ditto llogers' : ditto Cottle's, of 
 Avhom Canning singeth : — 
 
 " Great Cottlo, not HE whom the Alfred made famous, 
 But Joseph, of Bristol — the Brother of Amos." 
 
 There was a pause in poetry-reading from the time of Pope till 
 the time of Goldsmith. Again, there was a dead stop between 
 Goldy and the appearance of the Scots Minstrelsy. We have 
 now got enough to keep our fancy from starvation for thirty or 
 forty years to come. I hate repletion. 
 
 mapim jFourtccntf), 
 
 Poetry is like claret, one enjoys it only when it is very new,f 
 or when it is very old. 
 
 fWaviin jFiftccnti). 
 
 If you want good porter in London, you must always inquire 
 wliere there is a stand of coal-heavers. The gentlemen of the 
 
 * The three personages whose merits were discussed in a book which (Odo- 
 lierly says) " never had any existence" were Moses, Jesus Christ, and 
 Mahomet. — M. 
 
 t By " the Writer Tam" was indicated Thomas Campbell the poet, who, at 
 this lime, was editor of the New Moiiihly Magazine. — ^. 
 
 X Very old claret is rarely equal to expectation. Very new, when the wine 
 in really good, is admirable tijiple, if drawn out of the hogshead, in a cellar 
 where the temperature is even. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 117 
 
 press have voted porter ungenteel of Late, after the manner of 
 the Tenth.* They deal chiefly in gin and water, at threepence 
 sterhng the tumbler ; and their chief resorts are the Wrekin, 
 and Offley's Bmion ale-house, near Oovent-Garden, Avhere He 
 of the Trombonet and I have occasionally amused ourselves 
 contemplating their orgies. The Finish is a place where they 
 may also be seen' now and then — I mean the upper ranks. 
 The Cyder Cellar I do not admire — nor the Eccentric neither 
 — but chacun a son gout. 
 
 ifHapiu Sijrtccntf). 
 
 The Londoners have got a great start of the provincials, 
 Irish, Scotch, Yorkshire, &c., in the matter of dinner hours. I 
 consider five or even six o'clock, as too early for a man deeply 
 engaged in business. By dining at seven or eight, one gains a 
 whole hour or two of sobriety, for the purpose of transacting the 
 more serious aflfairs of life. In other words, no man can do any- 
 thing but drink after dinner ;| and thus it follows that the later 
 one dines, the less does one's drinking break in upon that valu- 
 able concern, time, of which, whatever may be the case with 
 others, I, for one, have always had more than of money. A 
 man, however busy, who sits down to dinner as eight strikes, 
 may say to himself with a placid conscience — Come, fair play 
 is a jewel — the day is over — nothing but boozing until bed-time. 
 
 iRSapiiu Sebcntccnti). 
 
 John Murray is a firsl-rate fellow in his way, but he should 
 not publish so many baddish books, written by gentlemen and 
 ladies, who have no merit except that of figuring in the elegant 
 
 * The Tenth Hussars, a regiment which, by the intolerable puppyism of its 
 officers, became excessively unpopular in Dublin in 1822-'3. — M. 
 
 t " He of the Trombone" was Mordecai Mullion, one of the occasional 
 guests at " The Noctes" (where he figured as North's secretary) and wholly 
 a fictitious personage. — M. 
 
 X In England, this haljit of drinking after dinner has very much declined, 
 67nce the first publication of these Maxims. At present, a man would be very 
 oddly regarded who would seriously say, at 8 P. M., " the day is over — noth- 
 ing but boozing until bed-time." — M.
 
 118 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 coteries of May-fair. There seems to me to be no gi-eater 
 impertinence than that of a man of fashion pretending to under- 
 stand the real feelings of man. A Byron, or so, appears once in 
 a hundred years or so, perhaps ; but then even Byron was al- 
 ways a roue, and had seen the froth foam over the side of many 
 a pewter pot, ere he attempted to sing Childe Harold's melan- 
 cholious moods. A man has no conception of the true senti- 
 mental sadness of the poetic mind, unless he has been blind- 
 drunk once and again, mixing tears with toddy, and the heigho 
 Avith the hiccup. What can these dandies know who have 
 never even spent a cool morning in The Shades ? No good 
 poetry was ever written by a character in silk stockings. Hogg 
 writes in corduroy breeches and top-boots : Coleridge in black 
 breeches and gray worsteds : Sir Walter in rig-and-furrows : 
 Tom Moore in Connemaras, all his good songs — Lalla Rookh, 
 I opine, in economy-silks : Tom Campbell wrote his old affairs 
 bareheaded and without breeches — Ritter Bann, on the con- 
 trary, smells of natty stocking pantaloons, and a scratch wig : 
 Lord Byron wears cossacks in spite of Almacks : Allan Cun- 
 ningham sports a leathern apron : William Wordsworth rejoices 
 in velveteens : and Willison Glass the same.* It is long since 
 I have seen Dr. Southey, but I understand he has adopted the 
 present fashion of green silk stockings with gold clocks : Barry 
 Cornwall wears a tawny waistcoat of beggar's velvet, with silver 
 frogs, and a sham platina chain twisted through two button 
 holes. Leigh Hunt's yellow breeches are well known :t — So 
 are my own Wellingtons, for that matter. 
 
 I^ajrim ISijjIjteentj^. 
 
 Lord Byron recommends hock and soda-water in the crop- 
 sickness. My own opinion is in favor of five drops of laudanum, 
 
 * Willison Glass kept a small public-house in Edinburgh, wherein he com- 
 posed punch and poetry — of which the former was by far the best. In Sep- 
 tember, 1819, Wilson introduced him into the article " Christopher in the Tent," 
 which preceded the first appearance of The Noctes, in March, 1822. — M. 
 
 t Leigh Hunt was educated at Christ's Hospital, London, where the cos- 
 tume (the same as when the school was endowed by its founder, Edward VL) 
 consists of a long gown of blue cloth, with yellow hose and breeches. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 119 
 
 and a teaspoonful of A'inegar, in a tumbler of fair spring water. 
 Try this : although much may also be said in praise of that 
 maxim which Fielding has inserted in one of his plays — the 
 Covent-Garden Tragedy, I think, — videlicet, that "the most 
 grateful of all drinks 
 
 ' Cool small-beer unto the waking drunkard." 
 
 iHfltaFiin WinEteentJ). 
 
 Nothing can be more proper than the late parliamentary 
 grant of half a million for the building of new churches. 
 
 i^ajriin STluentfetf), 
 
 What I said in Maxim Third, of stopping punsters, must be 
 understood with reservation. Puns are frequently provocative. 
 One day, after dinner with a Nabob, he was giving us Madeira — 
 London — East India — picked — particular, 
 
 then a second thought struck him, and he remembered that he 
 had a few flasks of Constantia in the house, and he produced 
 one. He gave us just a glass a-piece. We became clamorous 
 for another, but the old qui-hi was firm in refusal. " Well, 
 well," said Sydney Smith, a man for whom I have a particular 
 regard, " since we can't double the Cape, we must e'en go back 
 to Madeira." We all laughed — our host most of all — and he 
 too, luckily, had his joke. " Be of Good Hope, you shall double 
 it ;" at which we all laughed still more immoderately, and drank 
 the second flask. 
 
 iWavtm Srtoent2=first. 
 
 What stuff in Mrs. Hemans, Miss Porden,* &c. &c., to be 
 writing plays and epics ! There is no such thing as female 
 genius. The only good things that women have written, are 
 
 * Eleanor Anne Porden, born in 1795, wrote a poem called " The Veils," 
 at the age of seventeen. Her next was " The Arctic Expedition," which in- 
 troduced her to Captain (the late Sir John) Franklin, whom she married. Her 
 last and principal work was the epic of " Conur de Lion." She died in 1825, 
 a few days after her husband had sailed from England on his second Arctic 
 Expedition. — M.
 
 120 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Sappho's Ocle upon Phaon. and Madame de Stael's Corinne ; 
 and of these two good things the inspiration is simply and en- 
 tirely that one glorious feeling, in which, and in which alone, 
 woman is the equal of man. 
 
 iWa):im ffi:toent2?=scconlr. 
 
 There is a kind of mythological jacobitism going just now 
 which I cannot patronise. You see Barry Cornwall, and other 
 great poets of his calibre, running down Jupiter and the exist- 
 ing dynasty very much, and bringing up old Saturn and the 
 Titans. This they do in order to show off learning and depth, 
 but they know nothing after all of the sky gods. I have long 
 had an idea of writing a dithyrambic in order to show these fel- 
 lows how to touch off mythology. Here is a sample — 
 
 Come to the meeting, there's drinking and eating, 
 
 Plenty and famous, your bellies to cram ; 
 Jupiter Ammon, with gills red as salmon, 
 
 Twists round his eyebrows the horns of a ram. 
 
 Juno the she-cock has harnessed her peacock, 
 
 Wai-ming the way with a drop of a di'am ; 
 Pliocbus Apollo in order will follow. 
 
 Lighting the road with his old patent flam. 
 
 Cuckoldy Vulcan, dispatching a full can. 
 
 Limps to the banquet on loitering ham ; 
 Venus her spaiTOws, and Cupid his arrows. 
 
 Sport on th' occasion — fine infant and dam. 
 
 Mars, in full armour, to follow his charmer. 
 
 Looks as ferocious as Highlander Sam ; 
 Jocus and Comus ride tandem with Momus, 
 
 Cheering the road with gibe, banter, and bam. 
 
 Madam Latona, the old Roba Bona, 
 
 Simpering as mild as a fawn or a lamb, 
 Drives with Aurora the red-nosed Signora, 
 
 With fingers as rosy as raspberry jam. 
 
 There is real mythology for you ! 
 
 iWajrim 2rtocnt2=tl)ictt. 
 
 The English really are, after all, a mighty 'cute people. I 
 never went anywhere when I was first imported, that they did
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 121 
 
 not find me out to he an Irisbmau, tlie moment I opened my 
 mouth. And how think ye 1 Because I used at first to call 
 always for a ^^o< of porter ; whereas, in England, they never 
 drink more than a pint at a draught. 
 
 I DO not agree with Doctor Adam Clarke's translation of 
 ■>'■•^^\2, in Genesis.* I think it must mean a serpent, not an ou- 
 rang-outang. Bellamy's Ophion is, however, a weak work, 
 which does not answer Clarke, for whom he is evidently no 
 match on the score of learning. There is, after all,- no antipa- 
 thy between serpents and men naturally, as is proved by the 
 late experiments of Monsieur Neille in America. 
 
 |Ha):im Sitoentaj^fiftJ). 
 
 A MAN saving his wine must be cut up savagely. Those avIio 
 wish to keep their expensive wines pretend they do not like 
 them. You meet people occasionally who tell you it is bad 
 taste to give champagne at dinner — at least in theu- opinion — 
 Port and TeneriflPe being such superior drinking. Some, again, 
 patronise Cape Madeira, and tell you that the smack is very 
 agreeable — adding sometimes, in a candid and patriotic tone, 
 that even if it were not, it would become zis to try to bring it into 
 fashion, it being the only wine grown in his Majesty's dominions. 
 
 In Ireland and Scotland they always smuggle in the tumblers 
 or the bowl. Now, I hold that if punch was raised by taxation 
 or otherwise, (but Jupiter Ammon avert the day !) to a guinea 
 a-bottle, every body Avould think it the balmiest, sweetest, dear- 
 est, and most splendid of fluids — a fluid to which King Bur- 
 gundy or Emperor Tokay themselves should hide their dimin- 
 ished heads, and it is, consequently, a liquor which I quaff most 
 joyously — but fiever when I think it brought in from any other 
 motive than mere afi'ection to itself. I remember dining one 
 day with Lord , (I spare his name,)t in the south of Ire- 
 
 * Vide Maxim lxxxi. — M. 
 
 t The peer -svas Viscount Donerailc, of Doneraile House, County of Coik, 
 who died in March, 1854, and was what the Irish call " a near man" — i. c.. 
 
 Vol. L— 6
 
 122 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 land, and my friend Charley Crofts was also of the party. Tlie 
 claret went lazily ronnd tlie table, and his lordship's toad-eaters 
 hinted that they preferred punch, and called for hot water. My 
 lord gave in, after a humbug show of resistance, and whisky 
 punch was in a few minutes the order of the night. Charley, 
 however, to the annoyance of the host, kejit swilling away at 
 
 the claret, on which Lord lost all patience, and said to 
 
 him, " Charley, you are missing quite a treat — this punch is so 
 excellent." — "Thank ye, my lord," said Charley; "I am a 
 plain man, who does not want trates — I am no epicure, so I 
 stick to the claret." 
 
 IHavim a:iD£nti)=si):tjE). 
 
 When a man is drunk, it is no matter upon what lie has got 
 
 drunk.* 
 
 He sucks witli equal throat, as up to all, 
 
 Tokay tVoin Hungai'v, or beer the small. FoPE. 
 
 iftHajrim 5"tocnti)=scbcntl). 
 
 The great superiority of Blackwood's Magazine over all other 
 works of our time is, that one can be allowed to speak one's 
 mind there. There never yet Avas one word of genuine unso- 
 phisticated truth in the Edinburgh, the Quarterly, or indeed in 
 any other of the Periodicals — in relation, I mean, to any thing 
 that can be called opinion or sentiment. All is conventional 
 mystification, except in Ebony, the jewel, alone. Here alone 
 can a man tell smack out that he is a Tory, an Orangeman, a 
 Radical, a Catholic, anything he pleases to be, to the back- 
 bone. No necessity for conciliatory mincing and paring away 
 of one's own intellect. I love whisky punch ; I say so. I ad- 
 
 a mean and saving- man. Charley Crofts, the actual hero of this anecdote, was 
 a decayed Squireen, who had once been in good circumstances, and was a wel- 
 come guest at the tables of those who had known his more prosperous days. 
 Such a mixture of shrewdness and blunders, simplicity and wit has rarely exist- 
 ed — even in Ireland. But he deserves a separate and full-length sketch, and 
 may have it one of these days, perhaps. — M. 
 
 * The orthodoxy of tliis aphorism is veiy questionable. Let a man get 
 drank on mixed liquors, and his stomach will be out of order next day. Not 
 so, with rare exceptions, if he imbibe only one fluid and stick to that. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 123 
 
 tnire Wordswortli and Don Juan ; I say so. Sontliey is a hum- 
 bug ; well, let it be said distinctly. Tom Campbell is in Lis 
 dotage ; why conceal a fact like this ? I scorn all paltering 
 with the public — I hate all shuffling, equivocating, trick, stuft", 
 nonsense. I write in Blackwood, because there Morgan ODo- 
 herty can be Morgan ODoherty. If I wrote in the Quarterly, 
 I should be bothered partly with, and partly without, being con- 
 scious of it, with a hampering, binding, fettering, nullifying sort 
 of notion, that I must make myself, ^/-o tempore, a bit of a Gif- 
 ford* — and so of every thing else. 
 
 iftlaxiin J!rtocnti):=eijjl)tl). 
 
 Much is to be said in favoxu- of toasted cheese for supper. It 
 is the cant to say, that Welsh rabbit is heavy eating.t I know 
 this ; but have I really found it to be so in my own case ? Cer- 
 tainly not. I like it best in the genuine Welsh way, however 
 — that is, the toasted bread buttered on both sides profusely, 
 then a layer of cold roast beef, with mustard and horse-radish, 
 and then, on the top of all, the superstratum of Cheshire tlio- 
 roughly saturated, while in the process of toasting, Avith cwrw,| 
 or, in its absence, genuine porter, black pepper, and shallot vine- 
 gar. I peril myself upon the assertion, that this is not a heavy 
 supper for a man who has been busy all day till dinner, in read- 
 ing, writing, walking, or riding — Avho has occupied himself be- 
 tween dinner and supper in the discussion of a bottle or two of 
 sound wine, or any equivalent — and who proposes to swallow 
 at least three tumblers of something hot, ere he resigns himself 
 to the embrace of Somnus. With these provisoes, I recommend 
 toasted cheese for supper. And I bet half-a-crown that Kitche- 
 ner|l coincides with me as to this. 
 
 * William Gifford, who was editor of the Q,na7-terly Review, from its estab- 
 lishment in 1809 until 1824. — M. 
 
 t Are heavy suppers injurious? Does not tlie process of digestion quietly 
 proceed in sleep ? — M. 
 
 X Cwrw, pronounced croo, is the name of ale, in Wales. — M. 
 
 II Dr. W^illium Kit(-hener (born in 1775, died in 1827), wrote " The Cook's 
 Oracle" and other works, through all of which ran a vein of eccentricity. He 
 was eminently social, and, at his hospitable table, entertained his friends with 
 the fruits of iiis gastronomic and culinary practice and precept. — M.
 
 PART THE SECOND, 
 
 KntvoliHctton. 
 
 Gentle Header, 
 Few pieces of cant are more common than tliat whicli consists 
 in re-echoing the old and ridiculous cry of " variety is charm- 
 ing ;" " (ovjours perdrix," &c. &c. &c. I deny the fact. I want 
 no variety. Let things be really good, and I, for one, am in no 
 danger of Avearying of them. For example, to rise every day 
 about half after nine — eat a couple of eggs and mitffins, and 
 drink some cups of genuine, sound, clear coffee — then to smoke 
 a cigar or so — read the Chronicle* — skim a few volumes of 
 some lirst-rate new novel, or perhaps pen a libel or two in a 
 light sketchy vein — then to take a bowl of strong, rich, invigo- 
 rating soup — then to get on horseback, and ride seven or eight 
 miles, paying a visit to some amiable, well-bred, accomplished 
 young lady, in the course of it, and chattering aAvay an hour 
 with her, 
 
 " Sporting with Amaryllis in the shade, 
 Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair," 
 
 as Milton expresses it — then to take a hot-bath, and dress — then 
 to sit down to a plain substantial din'fler, in company with a select 
 party of real good, honest, jolly Tories — and to spend the rest 
 of the evening with them over a pitcher of cool Chateau-Margot, 
 
 * In 1824, The Morning Chronicle, which Mr. Jamos Perry, its late propri- 
 etor, had raised into great popularity, was read by Whig and Toiy, as the me- 
 tropolitan organ of the liboral party. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 125 
 
 singing, langliing, speechifying, blending -wit and wisdom, and 
 ■winding up tlic wliole with a devil and a tumbler or two of hot 
 rum-punch. — This, repeated day after day, week after 'week, 
 month after month, and year after year, may perhaps appear, to 
 some people, a picture pregnant with ideas of the most sicken- 
 ing and disgusting monotony. Not so with me, however. I am 
 a plain man. I could lead this dull course of uniform unvaried 
 existence for the whole period of the Millenium. Indeed I mean 
 to do so. 
 
 Hoping thatyou, benevolent reader, after weighing matters 
 with yourself in calm contemplation for a few minutes, may be 
 satisfied that the view I have taken is the right one — I now 
 venture to submit to your friendly notice a small additional slice 
 of the same genuine honest cut-and-come-again dish, to which I 
 recently had the honor of introducing you. Do not, therefore, 
 turn up your nose in fashionable fastidiousness ; but mix your 
 grog, light your pipe, and — laying out your dexter leg before 
 you in a comfortable manner upon a well-padded chair, or sofa, 
 or footstool, (for the stuffing of the cushion, not the form of the 
 furniture, is the point of real importance,) and, above all, take 
 particular care that your cravat, braces, waistband, &c. &c. &c., 
 be duly relaxed — proceed, I say, with an easy body, and a 
 well-disposed, humble, and meditative mind, to cast your eye 
 over a few more of those " pebbles," (to use a fine expression 
 of the immortal Burke,) which have been rounded and polished 
 by long tossing about in the mighty ocean of the intellect of, 
 
 Gentle reader. 
 
 Your most devoted servant, 
 
 Morgan ODoherty. 
 
 Blue Posts, June 19, 1824 
 
 i^ajrim {Etocntg^ntntf). 
 
 Whenever there is any sort of shadow of doubt as to the 
 politics of an individual, that individual has reason to be ashamed 
 of his politics — in other words, he is a Whig. A Tory always
 
 126 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 deals above board.* Yonr Whig, on the other hand, particu- 
 larly your Whig-ling, or young Whig, may have, and in point of 
 fact, -^ery often has, his private reasons for wishing to keep the 
 stain of which he is conscious as much in the shade as may be. 
 It is wonderful how soon such characters make up their minds 
 when they are once fairly settled in a good thing. 
 
 irHavim STIjirtictl). 
 
 Hock cannot be too much, claret cannot be too little, iced. 
 Indeed, I have my doubts whether any red wine should ever 
 see the ice-pail at all. Burgundy, unquestionably, never should ; 
 and I am inclined to think, that with regard to hermitage, claret, 
 &c., it is always quite- sufficient to wrap a wet towel (or perhaps 
 a wisp of wet straw is better still) about the bottle, and put it in 
 the draft of a shady window for a couple of hours before enjoy- 
 ment. I do not mention port, because that is a winter Avine.t 
 
 In whatever country one is, one should choose the dishes of 
 the country 4 Every really national disb is good — at least, I 
 never yet met with one that did not gratify my appetite. The 
 Turkish pilaws are most excellent — but the so-called French. 
 
 * In tliose days, when Toryism had been " Lord of th' ascendant" for forty 
 y^ars — with a brief interregnum for the few months that Fox and "All the 
 Talents" has obtained office — it was the fashion for Tory writers to laud their 
 own party, its leaders, its principles, and its members, as exclusively national, 
 honest, conservative, and respectable. From his earliest start in life, Dr. Ma- 
 ginn was a Tory. Under the Magazine sobnqnet of Sir Morgan Odoherty, he 
 was more particularly Conservative in his professions. — M. 
 
 t That "hock can not be too much iced" is an assertion not sustained by 
 fact. As a summer wine, hock should be kept cool, but not artificially cold. 
 Drinking it out of green glasses is intended to carry out the idea of coolness. 
 Red wine — claret, port, hermitage, &c. — should be rather warm than coW. 
 Hock is utterly ruined by being put into the ice-pail. There is nothing more 
 absurd ihan icing the Rhenish wines — it is a needless painting of the lily. — M. 
 
 X Of course — but with exceptions. A plain man (like Charley Crofts) and 
 " not fond of frates," could willingly dispense with an entremet of seal-fat or 
 whale-blubber, which is one of the national dishes of the Esquimaux. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 127 
 
 cookery of Pera is execrable* In like manner, roast beef with 
 Yorkshire pudding is always a prime feast in England, while 
 John Bull's Fricandeatix sovffies, &c., are decidedly anathema. 
 "What a horror, again, is a Bifstick of the Palais Royal ! On 
 the same principle — (for all the fine arts follow exactly the 
 same principles) — on the same jjrinciple it is, that while Princi- 
 pal Robertson, Dugald Stewart, Dr, Thomas Brown, and all the 
 other would-be-English writers of Scotland,t have long since 
 been voted tame, insipid, and tasteless diet, the real haggis-bag 
 of a Robert Burns keeps, and must always keep, its place. 
 
 iWa):im 2ri)ivti»=scconti. 
 
 Never take lobster-sauce to salmon ; it is mere painting of 
 the lily, or, I should rather say, of the rose. The only true 
 sauce for salmon is vinegar, mustard, Cayenne pepper, and 
 parsley. Try this oiice, my dear Dr. Kitchener, and I have -no 
 hesitation in betting three tenpennies| that you will never de- 
 part from it again while the breath of gastrononi}- is in your 
 nostrils. As for the lobster, either make soup of him, or eat 
 him cold (with cucumber) at supper.|| 
 
 fHavim t!ri)ivtn=tljirt). 
 
 I TALKED in the last maxim of cold lobster for supper ; but 
 this requires explanation. If by accident you have dined in a 
 quiet way, and deferred for once the main business of existence 
 until the night, then eat cold lobsters, cold beef, or cold any 
 
 * The French cookeiy in all p;irts of the Ottoman Empire is execrable. But 
 the Turkish dishes are good. With hunger for sauce, tlie^i7a;( is acceptable, 
 and a platter oi kabohs by no means to be treated lightly, with or without hun- 
 ger, especially when followed by fine Mocha and a chihonqne — M. 
 
 t There is something particularly cool in Odoherty's thus, in a Scotch maga- 
 zine, affecting to speak contemptuously of Robeitson, Stewart, and Brown — 
 writers of whom Scotland is proud, and with reason. — M. 
 
 X III 1824, part of the silver coinage of Ireland consisted of Bank Tokens, 
 of tenpence and fivepence respectively. They were called tenpeiudes M\d five- 
 peniiies. In 1825, these coins were withdrawn, and the Irish assimilated to 
 the British, or as Paddy called it, the " Breeches money." — M. 
 
 II Of lol)Ster-8alad, Odoherty appears to have had no knowledge ! Wonder- 
 ful ignorance in a gourmand. — M.
 
 128 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 thing you like for supper ; but In the ordinary case, when a man 
 has already got his two bottles, or perhaps three under his belt, 
 depend on it, the supper of that man should be hot — hot — 
 hot — 
 
 " Nuiiquam aliud Nalura, aliud Sapientia docet." 
 
 Such is my simple view of the matter ; but a friend at my elbow, 
 who is always for refining on things, says, that the philosophical 
 rule is this — "When you have been drinking cold wine or cold 
 punch, yoiu' supper ought to be a devil, or at least something 
 partaking of the devil character ; and, on the other hand, when 
 you have been swallowing mulled wine, or hot punch, or hot 
 toddy, something cold, with vinegar, salad, &c., should form the 
 supper." — I have given you my friend's theory in his own 
 words. — If men of sense Avould but communicate the results of 
 their different experiments to the public, we should soon have 
 abundant data for the settlement of all these disputes. 
 
 i[^a):im 2ri)ivt»=fouvt|&. 
 
 It is a common thing to hear big wigs prosing against drhik- 
 ing, as " a princijjal source of the evil that we see in this world." 
 I heard a very big wig say so myself the other day from the 
 bench, and we have all heard the same cant, ad nauseam usfpie, 
 from the pulpit. There cannot, however, be a more egregious 
 mistake. Had Voltaire, Eobespierre, Buonaparte, Talleyrand, 
 &c., been all a set of jolly, boozing lads, what a mass of sin and 
 horror, of blasphemy, uproar, blood-thirsty revolution, wars, bat- 
 tles, sieges, butcherings, ravishings, &c. &c, &c., in France, Ger- 
 many, Egypt, Spain, Sicily, Syria, North America, Portugal, 
 &c., had been spared within the last twenty or thirty years ! 
 Had Mahomet been a comfortable, social good fellow, devotedly 
 fond of his pipe and pot, would not the world have avoided the 
 whole of the humbug of Islamism ? — a superstition, reader, that 
 has chained up and degraded the intellect of man in so many 
 of the finest districts of the globe, during the space of so many 
 long centuries. Is it not manifest, that if Southey had been a 
 greater dealer in quarts, his trade would have been more limited 
 as to quartos 1 — It is clear, then, that loyalty, religion, and lit-
 
 MAXIMS OP ODOHERTY. 129 
 
 eratnre, Lave had occasion, one and all of them, to bemoan 
 not the wine-sop, but the milk-sop, propensities of their most 
 deadly foes. 
 
 |Ha):im 5rf)irt2=fi(tJ. 
 
 In making our estimate of a man's character, we should 
 always lay entirely out of view whatever has any connexion 
 with " the womankind." In fact, we all are, or have been, or 
 shall be, — or, if this be too much, we all at least might, could, 
 would, or should be, — Fools, quoad Jioc. I wish this were the 
 worst of it — but enough. 
 
 The next best thing to a really good woman, is a really good- 
 natured one. 
 
 ilHavim 2[l)ivt5=sebenti). 
 
 The next worst thing to a really bad man, (in other words a 
 Anave,) is a really good-natured one, (in other words, ajool.) 
 
 ptavfm 2ri)trtM=cifl])tj). 
 
 A FOOL admires likeness to himself; but, except in the case 
 of fools, people fall in love with something unlike themselves — 
 a tall man with a short woman — a little man with a strapper — 
 fair people with dark — and so on.* 
 
 ^!Lfim 2ri)ictj==nintj). 
 
 A MARRIED woman commonly falls in love with a man as 
 unlike her husband as is possible — but a widow very often 
 marries a man extremely resembling the defunct. The reason 
 is obvious. 
 
 iWap'm j?ovti'£ll). 
 
 You may always ascertain whether you are in a city or a 
 village, by finding out whether the inhabitants do or do not 
 
 * Shakspcre had been beforeliand in tins remark. — M. 
 6*
 
 130 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 care foi', or speak about, a^^y thing three clays after it has 
 happened, 
 
 Jttavini iyort£=first. 
 
 There are four kinds of men — the Whig who has always 
 heen a Whig — the Tory who has once been a Whig — the 
 Whig who has once been a Tory — and the Tory who has al- 
 ways been a Tory. Of these I drink willingly only Avith the 
 last, — considering the_^;-5^ as a fool, the second as a knave, and 
 the third as both a fool and a knave ; but if 1 must choose 
 among the others, give me the mere fool. 
 
 iHaajrim iFovt^'Sfconlr. 
 
 Never boozify a second time with the man whom you have 
 seen misbehave himself in his cups. I have seen a great deal 
 of life, and I stake myself upon the assertion, that no man ever 
 says or does that brutal thing when drunk, Avliich he would not 
 also say or do when sober, if he durst* 
 
 ittavim iFovt»=t})irtr 
 
 In literature and in love we generally begin in bad taste. I 
 myself wrote very pompous verses at twenty, and my first flame 
 was a flaunting, airy, artificial attitudiniser, several years older 
 than myself. By means of experience, we educate our imagi- 
 nation, and become sensible to the charm of the simple and the 
 unaffected, both in belles and belles-lettres. Your septuagena- 
 rian of accomplished taste discards epithets with religious scru- 
 pulosity, and prefers an innocent blushing maiden of sixteen to 
 all the blazing duchesses of St. James's. 
 
 iHajrim jFovtr)=Jotirt{). 
 
 Nothing is more disgusting than the coram ])uhlico endear- 
 ments in which new-married people so frequently indulge them- 
 selves. The thing is obviously indecent ; but this I could over- 
 
 * In tlie hundred and tliirty-fouith Maxim, liowever, OJoheit} contradicts 
 this assertion. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 181 
 
 look, were it not also the perfection of fully and imbecility. 
 No wise man counts liis coin in tlie presence of those who, for 
 jiught he knows, may be thieves — and no good sportsman per- 
 mits the pup to do that for which the dog mulst be corrected. 
 
 iHavim J?ovt5=a'ftI). 
 
 A HUSBAND should be very attentive to his wife until the first 
 child is born. After that she can amuse herself at home, while 
 he resumes his jolly habits. 
 
 JHa):im iFovti)=si):ti). 
 
 Never believe in the intellect of a Whig merely because you 
 hear all the Whigs trumpet him — nay, hold fast your faith that 
 he is a dunderhead, even although the Pluckless pipe symplio- 
 nious. This is, you will please to observe, merely a plain Eng- 
 lish version of that good old adagmm : 
 
 " Mille licet cyphris cyphi-arum millia jiig'as, 
 Nil prseter magnum conficies iiihilum." 
 
 i[Harim jFovtii^scbentf). 
 
 There are two methods of mail-coach travelling — the gener- 
 ous and the sparing. I have tried both, and give my voice de- 
 cidedly for the former. It is all stuff that you hear about eating 
 and drinking plentifully inducing fever, &c. &c., during a long- 
 journey. Eating and drinking copiously produce nothing, mind 
 and body being well regulated, but sleepiness — and I know no 
 place where that inclination may be indulged less reprehen.-i- 
 bly than in a nlail-coach, for at least sixteen hours out of the 
 four-and twenty. In travelling, I make a point to eat whenever 
 I can sit down, and to drink (ale) Avhenever the coach stops.* 
 
 * There is notliing lilce bringing: figures of aritlimetic to bear upon figures 
 of speech. In 1824, before rnilways were in England, the mail-coaches trav- 
 elled at the rale of twelve miles an hour, and changed horses every eight or 
 nine miles. Take the latter as the average, and, in the sixteen hours of which 
 Odoherty speaks, the coach would have sto])ped twenty-one times. Argal — 
 so many pints of ale to be drank in that period ! — M.
 
 132 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS, 
 
 As for tlie interim, when I can neither eat nor drink, I smoke 
 if upon deck, and snuff if inside. 
 
 N. B. Of course, I mean when there is no opportunity of 
 flirtation, 
 
 ifEa):iin JFoct»=EiiJ[!)tt). 
 
 If you meet with a pleasant fellow in a stage-coach, dine and 
 get drunk witli him, and, still holding him to be a pleasant fel- 
 low, hear from his own lips just at parting that he is a Whig — 
 do not change your opinion of the man. Depend on it he is 
 quizzing you, 
 
 I^Savim jFovt])=nintj). 
 
 Show me the young lady that runs after preachers — and I 
 will show you one who has no particular aversion to men, 
 
 ifaavim jFittfctf). 
 
 There are only three liquors that harmonise with smoking — 
 beer — coffee — and hock. Cigars altogether destroy the flavour 
 of claret, and indeed of all red Avines, except AucJimanshauser ; 
 which, in case you are not knowing in such matters, is the pro- 
 duce of the Burgundy grape transplanted to the banks of the 
 Rhine — a wine for which I have a particular regard. 
 
 Haa):iin jFift»=ft'v»t, 
 
 He whose friendship is worth having, must hate and be 
 hated. 
 
 Your highly popular young lady seldom — I believe I might 
 say never — insj)ires a true, deep, soul-filling passion, I cannot 
 suppose Juliet d'Etagne to have been a favourite partner in a 
 ball-room. She could not take the trouble to smile upon so 
 many fops.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHEETY. 133 
 
 iWajrim iFift£=t!)ivtr. 
 
 The intensely amorous temperament in a young girl never 
 fails to stamp melancholy on her eye-lid. The lively, rattling, 
 giggling romp, may be capable of a love of her own kind — but 
 never the true luxury of the passion. 
 
 iHapint iFift»=fouitf). 
 
 No fool can be in love. — N. B, It has already been laid 
 doAvn, that all good-natured men are fools. 
 
 ifHapim jFiftP^fifti). 
 
 Nothing is more over-rated, in common parlance at least, 
 thau the influence of personal handsomeness in men.* For my 
 part, I can easily imagine a woman (I mean one really worth 
 being loved by) falling in love with a Balfour of Burleigh, but 
 I cannot say the same thing as to a young Milnwood. A real 
 Eebecca would, I also think, have been more likely to fall in 
 love with the Templar than with Ivanhoe ; but these, I believe, 
 were both handsome fellows in their several styles. The con- 
 verse of all this applies to the case of women. Rousseau did not 
 dare to let the small-pox permanently injure the beauty of his 
 Heloise. One would have closed the book had he destroyed 
 the sine qua non of all romance. 
 
 J^avim iFifti»=sivtt). 
 
 Whenever you see a book frequently advertised, you may 
 be pretty sure it is a bad one. If you see a f^^ff quoted in the 
 advertisements, you may be quite sure. 
 
 JWapim JFifts=sc\)cntt). 
 
 Employ but one tradesman of the same trade, and let him be 
 the first man in his line. He has the best materials, and can 
 
 * Curran, the Irish orator, who was particularly unhandsome, was wont to 
 say (what John Wilkes, who squinted, had said before him) that give him half 
 an hour the start in the society of a fine woman, and he would not care for the 
 rivalry of an Adonis. What are called pretty men are not generally acceptable 
 to the fair sex — these popinjays too much resemble themselves. — M.
 
 134 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 give the best tick; and ove long bill is, at all times, a mere 
 trifle on a man's mind, compared with three short ones. 
 
 IHavim JFift2=eifll)t|). 
 
 I CANNOT very well tell the reason, bnt such is the fact, — 
 the best boots and shoes are made at York. I mean as to the 
 quality of the leather.* 
 
 Be on your guard when you hear a young lady speak slight- 
 ingly of a young gentleman with whom she has any sort of ac- 
 qixaintance. She is probably in love with him, and will be sure 
 to remember what you say after she is married. But if you 
 have been heedless enough to follow her lead, and abuse him, 
 you must make the best of it. If you have great face, go 
 boldly at one, and, drawing her into a corner, say, "Alia! do 
 you remember a certain conversation we had ? Did you think 
 I was not up to your tricks all the time 1" Or, better still, take 
 the buJl by the horns, and say, " So ho ! you lucky dog. I 
 could have prophesied this long ago. She and I were always 
 at you when we met : she thought I did not see through the 
 affair. Poor girl ! she was desperately in for it, to be sure. By 
 Jupiter, what a fortunate fellow you have been !" &c. &c. &c. 
 Or, best of all, follow my own plan — i. e. don't call till the 
 honeymoon is over. 
 
 ifHaxim SivticUj. 
 
 It is the prevailing Intmbug for authors to abstain from put- 
 ting their names on their title-pages ; and well may I call this 
 a humbug, since of every book that ever attracts the smallest 
 attention, the author is instantly just as well known as if he had 
 clapt his portrait to the beginning of it. This nonsense some- 
 times annoys me ; and I have a never-failing method. My way 
 is this : I do not, as other people do, utter modest, mincing little 
 
 * TLis was before, by the reduction of the high protective fluty, French 
 Iciillier had come into general use in England. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 135 
 
 com pl'mi cuts, in hopes of seeing tlie culprit blusli, and thereby 
 betray himself. This is much too pretty treatment for a man 
 guilty of playing upon the public ; and, besides, few of tliem can 
 blush. I pretend the most perfect ignorance of the prevailing, 
 and, of course, just suspicion ; and the moment the work is 
 mentioned, I begin to abuse it iip hill and down dale. The 
 company tip me the wink, nod, frown hi abundance — no mat- 
 ter. On I go, mordicus, and one of two things is the result, viz. 
 — either the anonymous hero waxeth wroth, and in that case 
 the cat is out of the poke for ever and a day ; or he takes it in 
 good part, keeping his countenance with perfect composure ; 
 and then it is proved that he is really a sensible fellow, and by 
 consequence really has a right to follow his own fancies, how- 
 ever ridiculous. 
 
 iJHavim Sixtij^ltvst. 
 
 Lord Byron* observes, that the daily necessity of shaving 
 imposed upon the European male, places him on a level, as to 
 misery, with the sex to whose share the occasional botheration 
 of parturition has fallen. I quite agree with his lordship : and 
 in oi-der to diminish, as far as in me lies, the pains of mv 
 species, I hereby lay down the result of mj- experience in 
 abrasion. If I had ever lain-in, I would have done my best for 
 the ladies too. But to proceed : First, then, buy your razors 
 at Facet's — a queer, dark-looking, little shop in Piccadilly, a 
 few doors eastward from the head of St. James's Street. He is 
 a decent, shrewd, intelligent old man — makes the best blades in 
 Europe — tempers every one of them with his own hand — and 
 would sooner cut his throat than give you a second-rate article. 
 Secondly, In stropping your razor, (and a piece of plain buff 
 leather is by far the best strop,) ^\nyfro7n you, not toicards you. 
 Thirdly, Anoint your beard over night, if the skin be in any de- 
 gree hard or dry, or out of repair, with cold cream, or, better 
 still, with bear's grease. Fourthly, Whether you have anointed 
 or not, wash your face carefully and copiously before shaving, 
 for the chief difficulty almost always arises from dust, perspira- 
 tion &c., clogging the roots of the beard. Fifthly, Let your 
 
 •* R;ibel;iis said so, some time before Don Juan nppeared. — C. N.
 
 136 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 soap be tlie Pasta cli Casta giia. Sixthly, Let your brash be a 
 full one of cameVs hair. Seventhly, In spite of Sir John Sin- 
 clair, always use hot water — boiling water. These are the 
 seven golden rules. 
 
 N. B, Use the strop again after you have done shaving, and 
 get old Paget, if possible to give you a lesson in setting your 
 razors. If you cannot manage, send them to him to be set — 
 ay, even if you live five hundred miles from London.* People 
 send to town about their coats, boots, &c., but what are all these 
 things to the real comfort of a man, compared with a good razor ? 
 
 Ittajrim Si):t2=seconO, 
 
 Ass-milk, they say, tastes exceedingly hke woman's. No 
 wonder. 
 
 I^ajrim Si):tij=t1)irli. 
 
 A SMOKER should take as much care about his cigars as a 
 wine-bibber does of his cellar, yet most of them are exceedingly 
 remiss and negligent. The rules are as follows : First, keep a 
 large stock — for good tobacco improves very much by time — 
 say enough for two years' consumption. Secondly, keep them 
 in the coolest place you have, provided it be perfectly dry ; for 
 a cigar that is once wet is useless and irreclaimable. Thirdly, 
 keep them always in air-tight cannisters — for the common 
 wooden boxes play the devil. 
 
 N. B. The tobacco laws are the greatest opprobrium of the 
 British code. We laid those most extravagant duties on tobacco 
 at the time when North America was a part of our own empire, 
 and we still retain them in spite of rhyme and reason. One 
 consequence is, that every gentleman who smokes, smuggles ; 
 for the duty on manufactured tobacco amounts to a prohibition — 
 it is, I think, no less than eighteen shillings per poundf — and 
 
 * This notice of Paget was literally the making of that razor-maker and ra- 
 zor-setter. Immediately after it appeared there was such a rush to the " queer, 
 dark-looking, little shop in Piccadilly," that Paget had great difficulty in meet- 
 ing the greatly augmented demand for his razors. — M. 
 
 t The present duty (in 1855) is a trifle less than what is mentioned here.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 137 
 
 what is a pound of cigars ? Why does not the Duke of Sussex 
 speak up in the House of Lords? ** I like King George, but I 
 can't afford to pay duties," quoth Nanty Ewart ;* and I quite 
 agree with the inimitable Nanty. 
 
 JWaviin Sipt^sfourtf). 
 No cigar-smoker ever committed suicide. 
 
 if»a):lm Si):tji=fi(tj&. 
 
 In making hot toddy, or hot punch, you must put in the spirits 
 before the water : in cold punch, grog, &c., the other way. Let 
 Dr. Hope explain the reason. I state facts. 
 
 ifiStavim Si):t£=sivtl). 
 
 The safety of women consists in one circumstance : Men do 
 not possess at the same time the knowledge of thirty-five and 
 the blood of seventeen. 
 
 irHa):iin Si):tj?=sebcntl). 
 
 The extreme instance of the haihos is this : Any modern ser- 
 mon after the Litany of the Church of England. 
 
 ^ajrim Sii:ts=cifll)tl). 
 
 The finest of all times for flirting is a wedding. They are all 
 agog, poor things ! 
 
 |«a):im Sijrt^^nintl). 
 
 To me there is nothing very stare-worthy in the licentiousness 
 of a few empresses, queens, &c., of whom we have all heard so 
 much. After all, these elevated females only thought them- 
 selves the equals of common men. 
 
 You can not have a pound of imported cigars in England without paying a 
 duly of eight shillings and sixpence (a trifle over $2) and the mere duty on 
 the unmanufactured or leaf tobacco is two shillings and nine jience a pound. — M. 
 * In Scott's " RcdgauMtlet." — M.
 
 138 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 i^Javim Scbcntifti). 
 
 If prudes Aveve as pure as tliey would have us believe, tliej 
 Avould not rail so bitterly as tliey do. We do not thoroughly 
 hate that which we do not thoroughly understand. 
 
 ifWafim SebcntM^ft'vst. 
 
 (^Composed after six months' residence in Athens.) 
 
 .Tolin Brougham for bordeaux, 
 
 Robert Cockburn for cbanipagne, 
 Jolin Ferguson for hocks. 
 
 Cay for Sherris sack of Spain. 
 
 Phin for rod, pirn, and hooks, 
 
 Dunn for conge and sidaani, 
 B:iilie Blackwood for books, 
 
 Macvey Nnpier for bnlanm.^ 
 
 Sir Walter for fables, 
 
 Peter Robertson for speeches, 
 Mr. Trotter for tables, 
 
 Mr. Bridges for breeches. t 
 
 Gall for coaches and gigs, 
 
 Steele for ices and jam, 
 Mr. Urquhart for wigs, 
 
 Mr. Jeifrcy for bam. 
 
 Lord Morton for the zebra, 
 
 Billy Allan for the brusli, 
 Jolinny Leslie for the Hebre\v,t 
 
 And myself for a blush. 
 
 * Macvey Napier, who died in 1847, was Editor of the Edinburgh Review, 
 and the Encyclopadia Britannica, after these rhymes appeared. — M. 
 
 t " Peter" Robertson's real Christian name was Patrick. He died early in 
 1855,) one of the Scotch judges. Trotter was the leading upholsterer of Ediii- 
 biu'gh in 1824. David Brydges — mentioned in a previous notice — was at 
 once clothier and fine-arts connoisseur. — M. 
 
 X The Earl of Morton had endeavored to acclimatize the zebra in Scotland. 
 Sir William Allan, the painter, was President of the Royal Scottish Academy, 
 when he died in 1850. There was an ancient feud between Sir John Leslie, 
 the Professor in Edinburgh University, and Magiim — one of the latter's ear- 
 liest articles in Blackwood was an exposure of Leslie's ignorance of the He- 
 brew language, which he had attempted to criticize. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 139 
 
 iHapim Scbcnt))=sccontr. 
 
 People may talk as they like, but, after all, London is Lon- 
 don. Now, somebody Avill say, here is a foolish tautology — does 
 not everybody know that ] Hooly and fairly, my friend — it is 
 ten to one if you know it. If yoti were asked what are the fine 
 tilings of London? — what is it that gives it its metropolitan 
 and decidedly superior character ? You would say Parliament 
 — St. James's — Carlton House — the Parks — Almack's — 
 White's — Brookes's — Crockford's — Boodle's — Regent Street 
 — the Theatres — the Dioramas — the Naturoramas — the fid- 
 dle-de-devils. Not one of these is in London, except perhaps 
 the last, for I do not well know what that is — but London itself 
 — the city inside Temple-bar, is the place for a philosopher. 
 
 Houses of lath may flourish or may fade. 
 
 Bob Nash may make them as Bob Nash has made. 
 
 But can Bob Nash [queni honoris cavsa nomino) create the glo- 
 ries of Cockney-land'? Can he build a Watling Street — nar- 
 row, dirty, irregular, it is true, but still a Roman way, trod by 
 proud Praetors, and still to be walked over by you or me, in the 
 same form as it was trampled by the " hobnail" of the legionary 
 soldier, who did service at Pharsalia 1 What is London Stone, a 
 black lump in a hole of the wall of a paltry church, (the London 
 Stone Coffee-house opposite is a very fair concern,) but a Ro- 
 man milliarium, laid down there, for any thing you know to the 
 contrary, by Julius Agricola, who discovered Scotland, and was 
 the friend of Cornelius Tacitus, according to the rules enacted 
 by the roadmeters of old Appius Claudius 1 But I must not go 
 on with the recollection of London. Curse on the Cockney 
 school of scribblers — they, who know nothing, have, by writing 
 in praise of Augusta Trinobantum, (I use this word on purpose. 
 in order to conceal from them what I mean,) made us sick of 
 the subject. I, therefore, have barely adverted to the Roman 
 times, for luckily they have not had the audacity to pretend to 
 any acquaintance with such a period. 
 
 The Court — Why, to be sure, it contains the King, whom, as 
 a Tory, I reverence as an integral portion of the State — I hate 
 to hear him called the Chief Magistrate, as if he Avas but an up-
 
 140 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 per sort of Lord Waitliman* — and whom as a man I regard — 
 but my attachment is constitutional, and in the present case per- 
 sonal, and not local. The same may be said of Parliament. 
 As for the clubs, why, they are but knots of humdrum people 
 after all, out of all which you could not shake five wits. The 
 Almackites are asses — the theatres stuff — the fashionables 
 nothing. In money — in comfort — in cookery — in antiquity — 
 in undying subjects for quizzification — in pretty Jewesses — as 
 Spenser says, F. Q. B. I. C. v, St. xxi. 
 
 Jewessa, sunny bright, 
 
 Adorn'd with gold and jewels shinning cleare — 
 
 London proper I back against Southwark and "Westminster, in- 
 cUuling all the adjacent Jiams, and steads, and tons, and trells. 
 "Where can we find the match for the Albion, in Aldergate 
 Street,t as thou goest from St. Martin-le-Grand to the territory 
 of Goswell Street, in the whole world, take the world either 
 Avays, from Melville Island to "Van Dieman's Land, or from 
 Yeddo in the Island of Japan, to Iveragh in the kingdom of 
 Kerry, and back again 1 Nowhere ! 
 But I am straying from my cups. 
 
 Retournons, dist Grand Gousier, a nostre propous. 
 Quel ? dist Gargantua. 
 
 "Why, punch-making. 
 
 fKa)."!'" S£bentu=t})irlf. 
 
 In making 'rack punch, you ought to put two glasses of ram 
 to three of arrack. A good deal of sugar is required ; but 
 sweetening, after all, must be left to taste. Kitchener is fre- 
 quently absurd, when he prescribes by weight and measure for 
 such things. Lemons and limes are also matter of palate, but 
 two lemons is enough for the above quantity : put then an 
 equal quantity of water — i. e. not five but six glasses, to allow 
 
 * Robert Waithman, draper and Alderman of London, of which he had been 
 Lord Mayor, and for which he sat in Parliament, was a well-meaning, liberal, 
 uneducated man who was gi-eatly ridiculed, for his intense cockneyism, by 
 Theodore Hook, Dr. Maginn, and the rest of the Tory wits. — M. 
 
 t The Albion retains its character as a first-class dining-hotel. Most of the 
 trade dinners of the London booksellers are held therein. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OP ODOHERTY. 141 
 
 for tlie lemon juice, — and you have a very pretty three tum- 
 blers of punch. Mix in a jug. If you are afraid of headaches 
 — for, as Xenophon says of another kind of Eastern tipple, 'rack 
 punch is KS(i,a\a\yci — put twice as much water as spirits.* I, how- 
 ever, never used it that way for my own private drinking. 
 
 iWajrim Scbcnti.'=fouvtI). 
 
 The controversy respecting the fit liquor for punch is far from 
 being set at rest. As some folk mention Dr. Kitchener, I may 
 as well at once dispose of him. In his 477th nostrum, he pro- . 
 fesses to give you a receipt for making lemonade in a minute, 
 and he commences by bidding you to mix essence of lemon-peel 
 bi/ degrees with capillaire. How that is to be done in a minute 
 passes my comprehension. But, waiving this, he proceeds to 
 describe the process of acid-making, and then, in the coolest and 
 most audacious way in the world, bids you put a spoonful of it 
 into a pint of water, which will produce a very agreeable sher- 
 bet, " the addition of rum or brandy (quoth our hero) will con- 
 vert this into PUNCH directly." What a pretty way of doing 
 business this is ! It is just as much as if I were to say, get a 
 flint — the addition of a stock, lock, and barrel, to which will 
 convert it into a gun directly. Why, the spirits were first to 
 be considered, 
 
 JWajrim Sebcntii=fi{ttj. 
 
 Brandy I do not think good punch. The lemon does not 
 blandly amalgamate, and sugar hurts the vinous flavour. Nor 
 is it over good as grog. I recommend brandy to be used as a 
 dram solely. In drinking claret, when that cold wine begins, as 
 it will do, to chill the stomach, a glass of brandy after every 
 four glasses of claret corrects the frigidity. 
 
 N. B. — Brandy, and indeed all other drams, should be taken 
 at one sup, no matter how large the glass may be. The old 
 
 * This receipt differs mateiially from Father Tom Maguirc's, as given by 
 him to the Pope in the Vatican: — "First put in the spirits, then add the 
 sugar, and every drop of water after that spoils the punch." — M.
 
 142 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 rule of " never to make tAvo bites of a cherry," applies with pe- 
 culiar empliasis to clicrry brandy. 
 
 iia.Tpm Sebcnti)=sivtJ). 
 
 Rum is the liquor consecrate to grog.* Half and half is the 
 fair proportion. Grog should never be stirred with a spoon, but 
 immediately drunk as soon as the rum has been poured in. 
 Eum punch is apt to be heavy on the stomach — and, unless very 
 old, it has not peculiar merit as a dram. The American pine- 
 apple rum is fine drinking, and I wonder it is not introduced into 
 this country. In my last Maxims, I omitted to panegyrise the 
 peach brandy of our Transatlantic brethren — an omission which 
 I beg leave here to correct.t 
 
 Hflnviiu Sebcnt^^sebentj). 
 
 The pursers on board ships water the rum too much. You 
 hear fools in Parliament, and elsewhere, prating about the evils 
 of impressment : but the real grievances of the navy are left un- 
 touched. Croker should take this up, for it Avould make him 
 extensively popular.^ 
 
 irWavim ScbcntP^ciflijtl). 
 
 Shrub is decidedly a pleasant drink, particularly in the 
 morning. It is, however, expensive. Sheridan used to say it 
 was better to drink champagne out of economy ; for, said he, 
 your brains get addled Avith a single flask of champagne, whereas 
 you drink rum shrub all night before you are properly drunk. 
 Sheridan icas a great man. 
 
 * Grog, in the purely English acceptation of tlie term, means spirits tal<en 
 in cold water. — M. 
 
 t Otiohorty must have been particularly fortunate if he found any peach bran- 
 dy worth drinking or panegyrising. Evidently, he only knew the liquor by 
 name. — M. 
 
 t In 1824, and until the break-up of the Wellington Cabinet in November, 
 1830, John Wilson Croker, editor of Boswell's Johnson, and a principal 
 contributor to the Quarlerli/ Review, was Secretary to the Admiralty, in 
 London. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 143 
 
 fKnvim Srbfnti)=niutlj. 
 
 As for arrack — I can't say I like it. Yon Avonld bam tlie 
 first Mull or Qui-lii of them all, by infusing a couple of scru- 
 ples of tlie flowers of benjamin in a bottle of rum. You would 
 see liim snuffing it up liis nose, and swearing that he would 
 know its fragrance at the distance of a parasang. The floAvers 
 of benjamin cost about twopence. The best place for 'rack is 
 Vauxliall ; but I suspect they run this hum on you. At Tom's, 
 in Cornhill, you get it genuine. 
 
 JHajrim lEi'sfjtiftlj. 
 
 • 
 Of Tom's, thus casually presented to my mind, let me in- 
 dulge in the recollection.* Coffee-house, redolent of cash, what 
 magnificent associations of ideas do you not create ! By you for 
 generations has rolled the never-ceasing flow of wealth — the 
 chink of money, since the memory of man, has not been checked 
 ■within your hearing. Yet, with the insouciance of a siTbliine 
 philosophy, your cooks and waiters have never turned away from 
 their works of gastrosophy, to think of the neighboring millions. 
 How superb is your real turtle-soup — how peppery your mulla- 
 gatawny — how particular your Madeira ! Depend upon it, the 
 places for dining in are the city taverns or coffee-houses. You 
 have not, to be sure, a skip-jack monkey hopping behind your 
 chair — you have no flaring mirror glowering out on you in all 
 the majesty of a deep gilt trame — you have no marble chimney- 
 pieces, pleasant to look at, but all telling accursedly against you 
 in the bill. Instead of them, you have steady-going waiters, all 
 duly impressed with the dead certainty of their working up 
 gradually to be tavern-keepers themselves — thence men of po- 
 tency in the ward — in time merchants of some degree — alder- 
 men in due course, perhaps — and perhaps the vista presented 
 to their mental optics is gilded at the end by the august chain 
 of Lord Mayor. They bow to you for a penny, Avhile a jacka- 
 
 * Tom's, which is not in but very near Cornhill, was and is a famous restau- 
 rant. The prices, it is true, were high, but the articles supplied were tlie 
 xervbest of their kind. — M.
 
 144 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 napes at the West End w^ould toss wp his nose at half-a-croAvn. 
 The prudence of their visitors makes them prudent themselves. 
 The eastern pence are hoarded, while the western two-and-six- 
 pennies are flung to the winds, after the thousands of dandies 
 who have hestowed them. Then their boxes are dark and 
 dingy — but warm and cozy. A clock ticks audibly to remind 
 you of the necessity of keeping good hours, even in the midst of 
 revelry. Even if a man gets muzzy in one of them, it is a sober 
 intoxication — you are thinking of profit and loss in the mean- 
 derings of your intellect — and you retire to rest to dream of the 
 necessity of industry and attention. 
 
 iHSa):iin 2Ii2!)ti)=fi'vst. 
 
 When you write any outlandish lingo, always correct the 
 press yourself. In my 24th Maxim, a most erudite and impor- 
 tant one, the word nacliash is printed ncchadadi. After this, let 
 no conjectural emendation be deemed too wild. When we see 
 sh [tt-J converted by a printer into dhdhj [i-ij, what blunders must 
 not have been made in the days of MSS. ! And yet you hear 
 fools prating about the impropriety of meddling with the text. 
 
 if^ayiin lEi2i)ts=scconU. 
 
 Maxims are hard reading, demanding a constant stretch of the 
 intellectual faculties. Every word must be diligently pondered, 
 every assertion examined in all its bearings, pursued with a 
 keen eye to its remotest consequences, rejected with a philo- 
 sophic calmness, or treasured up Avith the same feeling as a 
 "■ KTrina « a£(" — a " possessiou to eternity."
 
 PART THE THIRD. 
 
 JIntroliuction. 
 
 Gentle Reader, 
 
 I HAVE already said that I do not fear the danger of cloying 
 you with this my Series of Maxims. Tottjours pcrdrix, &c., is a 
 true saying, no doubt, for you do get tired of partridges, [which, ut 
 obiter dicam, that is, in plain English, en passant, are very so-so 
 in France,] but there is no danger of your getting tired, of a 
 varied dinner. Thus, in this affair of mine, if it -svere, like the 
 Neio Monthly Magazine, a series of humdrum papers eternally 
 upon the same subjects, you would certes feel no little lassitude. 
 But I humbly submit to your superior judgment, that I am not 
 by any means in the predicament of that old- womanly journal, 
 edited by my friend Tom Campbell of Glasgow, a man for 
 whom I have a particular esteem, and concerning whom I shall 
 probably tell a good story next month. 
 
 I honestly have stuck by my original bargain with you, gen- 
 tle reader, and give you downright and actual observations on 
 human life. There is not a Maxim Avliich I have not tried, as 
 Dr. William Kitchener did his cookery recipes. In all other 
 books of Maxims which I have read, the greater proportion by 
 far is mere moonshine, of no practical utility whatever. I have 
 a vague recollection of having read a book by Dr. Hunter, of 
 York, I believe, from which all I gleaned — certainly all that 
 has stuck to my memory — is an advice to have your stairs 
 
 Vlo. L — 7
 
 146 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 painted stone colour to save soap — to send your cards to yonr 
 bookbinder to sbave off tbeir edges, Avhich will permit you to 
 play with tliem three times as long as you otherwise would — 
 and if your wife Avears a wig, never to look at her bare skull, for 
 it is a hideous spectacle. Of which the two first are piperly, and 
 the third I know nothing about, not being enrolled in the ranks 
 of matrimony. 
 
 So also in " Lacon, or Few Things in Many Words," I defy 
 you to point out a solid practical Maxim ; at least I cannot rec- 
 ollect one.* And if not practical, they are naught. Tlie con- 
 trary of the law of theology holds in this case. In Scotland I 
 have heard people say, " It is no sound doctrine, it is the law o' 
 warks." Now, unless apophthegms are exclusively confined io 
 icurks, their doctrine is not somad. While writing this, I have 
 happened perchance to take up a morning paper, wherein I find 
 excerpts from the Maxims of one Balthasar Gracian ; and what 
 are they 1 " Learn to obtain and preserve reputation," a pretty 
 copy -line for a school-boy, I own. " Learn to command your 
 passions. The passions are the breeches of the mind ;" he 
 might as well have said the petticoats of the Celtic. Who 
 learns any thing by such twaddle 1 
 
 In a word, gentle reader, these things pass away. If they 
 glitter or dazzle, they are but a kind of Fata Morgana, which 
 is baseless and transient, and altogether different from the 
 Effala Morgana, by which name you may, if you like, call the 
 dicta of, 
 
 Unalterably thine, 
 
 Gentle Reader, 
 
 Morgan ODoherty. 
 
 Ambrose's, Athens, 
 August 27, 1824. 
 
 * Lord Byron, who liad been satirized in a heavy poem by the Rev. C. C. 
 Colton, author of " Lacon, or Many Things in Few Words," was the first 
 to say that the book should have been entitled " Few Things in Many 
 Words." — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 147 
 
 iWairim 3Eigi)ti>=ti)irB. 
 
 We moderns are perliaps inferior to our ancestors in nothing 
 more than in our epitaplis. The rules, nevertheless, for making 
 a good epitaph, are exceedingly simple. You should study a 
 concise, brief, and piquant diction ; you should state distinctly 
 the most remarkable points in the character and history of the 
 defunct, avoiding, of coiirse, the error into ■which Pope so often 
 fell, of omitting the name of the individual in your verses, and 
 lea\nng it to be tagged to the tail or beginning of the piece, with 
 a separate and prosaic "7^/c ^'ac<?^" Thirdly, there should be, 
 if possible, some improvement of the subject, — some moral or 
 religious or patriotic maxim, — which the passenger carries with 
 him, and forgets not. I venture to present, as a happy speci- 
 men, the following, which is taken from a tombstone in Win- 
 chester churchyard, and which tradition ascribes to a late ven- 
 erable prelate of that see, Dr. Hoadly :* — 
 
 "Private John Thoms lies buuied here. 
 Who died of drinking cold small beer: — 
 Good Christian! drink no beer at all. 
 Or, if you will drink beer, don't drink it small." 
 
 Nothing can exceed the nervous pith and fine tone of this, 
 both in the narrative and the didactic parts. It is really a gem, 
 and confers honor on the Bishop — on whom, by the way, a 
 clever enough little epitaph was written shortly after his death, 
 by a brother Whig and D. D, Bishop Hoadly was, in this doc- 
 tor's opinion, a heretical scribe, and his monument encroached 
 too much on one of the great pillars of the Cathedral. 
 
 "Here lying Hoadly lies, whose book 
 Was feebler than his bier. — 
 Alive, the Church he fain had shook, 
 But undermines it here. 
 
 * Dr. Benjamin Hoadly (born in 1676), a famous Whig, in the reign of 
 Queen Anne, was created Bishop of Bangor in 171.5 ; and successively trans- 
 lated to the sees of Hereford, Salisbury, and Winchester; and died in 17G1. 
 He dififered so essentially from the doctrines of the church of England, that he 
 was described as " the greatest dissenter that ever wore a mitre." — M.
 
 148 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 iR3Ca):im 3Eigl)t»=fouvt|). 
 
 There is not a truer saying in this world, tlian that trutli lies 
 on the surface of things. The adage about its lying in a well 
 was invented by some solemn old ass, some "passymeasures 
 pagan," as Sir Toby Belch calls him, who was ambitious of be- 
 ing thought deep, while, in point of fact, he was only muddy. 
 Nothing that is worth having or knowing is recondite or difficult 
 to be discovered. Go into a ball-room, and your eye will in 
 three seconds light (and fix) on the beauty. Ask the stupidest 
 host in the world to bring you the best thing lie has in his 
 house, and he will, without doubt, set a bottle of claret forthwith 
 on your table. Ask the most perfect goose of a bookseller who 
 is the first poet in the world, and he will name Shakspere. 
 Ask Macvey* which is the best Magazine, and he will utter in 
 response the name of Blackwood. I have never been able to 
 understand the advantages of hard study, deep researches, 
 learned investigations, &c. &c. &c. Is there any really good 
 author lying concealed among the litter of lumber ransacked 
 only the fingers of the Bibliomaniacs ? Is there any thing 
 equal to punch, Avith which the drinking public in general 
 remains unacquainted? I think not. I therefore take things 
 easy. 
 
 iWavim ni2i)t2=fifti». 
 
 Few^ idiots are entitled to claver on the same form with the 
 Bibliomaniacs ; but, indeed, to be a collector of any thing, and 
 to be an ass, are pretty nearly equivalent phrases in the lan- 
 guage of all rational men. No man collects any thing of which 
 he really makes use. Who ever suspected Lord Sjjencer or his 
 factotum, little Dibdin,t of rcaAing 1 The old Quaker at York, 
 
 * Macvey Napier. — M. 
 
 t E;u-1 Spencer (born in 1758, died in 1834), tliough in office, under Fox as well 
 as under Pitt, is more worthy of notice as a book-collector than as a statesman. 
 He encouraged litei'ature and the fine arts ; was a conspicuous member of the 
 Roxburgh Club, in its zenith ; and formed a rare and costly libraiy (including 
 the Valdiirfar edition of Boccaccio, purchased at a vast price), of which the 
 Rev. T. F. Dibdin, his librarian, published an account in three volumes. Dib-
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 149 
 
 ■\vlio lias a nmseum of tlie ropes at wliicli eminent crlnnnals Lave 
 dangled, has no intention to make an airy and tassel-like termi- 
 nation of his own terrestrial career — for that woidd be quite out 
 of character with a man of his brims. In like manner, it is now 
 Avell known that the three thousand three hundred and thirty- 
 three young- ladies who figure on the books of the Seraglio, have 
 a very idle life of it, and that, in point of fact, the Grand Seign- 
 ior is a highly respectable man. The people that collect pic- 
 tures, also, are, generally speaking, such folk as Sir John Leices- 
 ter, the late Angerstein, and the like of that.* The only two 
 things that I have any pleasure in collecting, are bottles of ex- 
 cellent wine, and boxes of excellent cigars — articles, of the first 
 of which I flatter myself I know rather more than even Lord 
 Eldin does of pictures ;t and of the latter whereof I make rather 
 more use than old Mustapho can be supposed to do of his 3333 
 knick-knacks in petticoats — or rather, I beg their ladyships' 
 pardon, in trowsers. 
 
 iHajrim 35ial)t»=si):ti). 
 
 Something I Avas saying recalls to my mind the intense 
 scorn I have for Avhat they call seeing sights ! When you go 
 out to visit a friend in the country, " I am so glad to see you, my 
 dear fellow," says he — "come away, and you shall feast your 
 eyes on our grand cascade — abbey — lake — castle — plain — 
 forest," or whatever the sight of that vicinity may happen to be. 
 If he took you out to his field, and said, " Look at these sheep 
 — are you a judge ? — which of them shall I order to be killed ]" 
 
 din, nepliew of the song-writer, was born in 1775, and died in 1847. His bib- 
 liographical publications, which were numerous and valuable, are long since 
 out of print, and sell for five times their original price. Despite Odoherty's 
 sneer, Dibdin and his noble patron were book-readers as well as book-col- 
 lectors. — M. 
 
 * Sir John Leicester (created Lord Farnborough l?y George IV.) was a li!)- 
 oral patron of the fine arts in England at the time these Maxims were origi- 
 nally published. — John Julius Angerstein (l)orn at St. Petersburgh in 1735, 
 died in London in 1822) was a wealthy merchant, whose noble coy<>ction of 
 paintings, purchased by the English Government for £60,000, formed the nu- 
 cleus of the present National Gallery of England. — M. 
 
 t John Clerk, Lord Eldin, a Scottish judge — for whom is claimed the origi-
 
 150 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 or asked one to give hira an opinion abont the state of liis hot- 
 liouse, to inspect the drawhig of his fish-pond, or any tiling of 
 this kind, the man might be borne with. But, in general, in- 
 door prospects are the best. What purling brook matches the 
 music of my gurgling bottle 1 "What is an old roofless cathedral 
 compared to a well-built pie ? 
 
 iRaavnu Ilifiijtn'srbcutp. 
 
 Of late they have got into a trick of serving up the roasted 
 pig without his usual concomitants. I hate the innovating 
 sjiirit of this age ; it is my aversion, and will imdo the country. 
 Alv/ays let him appear erect on his four legs, with a lemon in 
 his mouth, a sprig of parsley in his ear, his trotters bedded on a 
 lair of sage.* One likes to see a jjig appear just as he used to 
 do upon the board of a Swift, a Pope, an Arbuthnot, Take 
 away the customs of a people, and their identity is destroyed. 
 
 JtHavi'iu f5ig!)t!):=ei25)t?). 
 
 Claret should always be decanted. I find it necessary to 
 observe tliis, because the vile Frenchified fashion of shoving the 
 black bottles about is fVist coming into vogue in certain quarters. 
 These outlandish fellows drink their wine out of the black bot- 
 tle for two reasons — first, that they can't afford crystal; and, 
 secondly, because, sending all their best wine over to us, they, 
 of course, are in the habit of consuming weak secondary trash 
 among themselves, Avhich Avill not keep, and has therefore no 
 time for depositing grounds. But why should we imitate such 
 creatures as these 1 The next thing, I suppose, will be to have 
 ruffles without a shirt, and to masticate frog's blubber. No good 
 can come of lowering our good old national pride, antipathies, 
 and principles in general. 
 
 nal proposal of broaking- the line in naval warfare — had one of the finest pic- 
 ture giillewes in Scotland, in 1824. — M. 
 
 * W'liat Washington Irving has said, in his Sketch Book, as to the serving- 
 iip of the hoar's head, at Oxford (with a lemon in his month) may be taken as 
 referring also to roast pig — immortalized by gentle " Elia." — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF OIXJHEUTY. lol 
 
 il^avnn Hiflljtij^ntntl). 
 
 Liberality, Conciliation, &c. &c., are roundabout words for 
 humbug in its loAvest shape. One night hxtely I had a very 
 line dream. I dreamt I was in heaven. Some of the young 
 angels were abusing the devil bitterly. Hold, hold ! said an 
 ancient-looking seraph, in a very long pair of wings, but rather 
 weak in the feather, — you must not speak in this way. Do not 
 carry party-feelings into private life. The devil is a person of 
 infinite talent — a very extraordinary person indeed. Such a 
 speaker ! &c. &c. &c. In regard to dreams, I have now adopted 
 the theory of the late Dr. Beattie, author of the Minstrel, a 
 poem ; for I had been supping that night among the Pluckless. 
 
 a 
 
 fHavim jKiixctictf). 
 
 There are tico kinds of drinking v.diich I disapprove of — I 
 mean dram-drinking and port-drinking. I talk of the drinking 
 of these things in great quantities, and habitually ; for as to 
 taking a few drams and a few glasses of port every day, that is 
 no more than I have been in the custom of doing for many 
 years back. I have many reasons that I could render for the 
 disgust that is in me, but I shall be contented with one. These 
 potables, taken in this way, fatally injure a man's personal ap- 
 pearance. The drinker of drams becomes either a pale, shlver- 
 mg, blue-and-yellow-looking, lank-chopped, miserable, skinny 
 animal, or his eyes and cheeks are stained with a dry, fiery, 
 dusky red, than which few things can be more disgusting to any 
 woman of real sensibility and true feminine dehcacy of charac- 
 ter. The port-drinkers, on the other hand, get blowsy about 
 the chops, have trumpets of noses, covered with carbuncles, and 
 acquire a muddy look about the ej-ts. Vide the Book of the 
 Church,* 2>assim. For these reasons, do not, on any account, 
 drink port or drams, and, j)er conversum, drink as much good 
 claret, good punch, or good beer, as you can get hold of, for these 
 liquors make a man an Adonis. Of the three, claret conveys 
 
 * " The Book of the Churcli," by Southey, the poet-laureate. — M.
 
 152 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 perhaps tlie most delicate tinge to the countenance ; nothing 
 gives the air of a gentleman so completely as that elegant lassi- 
 tude about the muscles of the face, which accompanied with a 
 gentle rubicundity, marks the man Avhose blood is in a great 
 proportion v in- de- Bordeaux. There is a peculiar delicacy of 
 expression about the mouth also, which nothing but the habit 
 of tasting exquisite claret, and contemplating works of the most 
 refined genius, can ever bestow. Punch, however, is not with- 
 out its own peculiar merits. If you want to see a fine, com- 
 manding, heroic-looking race of men, go into the Tontine Cof- 
 fee-room of Glasgow, and behold the effects of my friend Mr. 
 Thomas Hamilton's rum, and the delicious water of the Arns 
 fountain, so celebrated in song ; or just stop for a minute at the 
 foot of Millar Street, and see what you shall see. Beer, though 
 last, is not least in its beautifying powers. A beer-drinker's 
 cheek is like some of the finest species of apples, 
 
 " the side that's next the sun." 
 
 Such a cheek carries one back into the golden age, reminding 
 us of Eve, Helen, Atalanta, and I know not Avhat more. Upon 
 the whole, I should, if called upon to give a decided opinion as 
 to these matters in the present state of my information and feel- 
 ings, say as follows : Give me the cheek of a beer-bibber — the 
 calf of a punch-bibber — and the mouth of a claret-bibber — 
 which last, indeed, I already have. 
 
 N. B. — Butlers should be allowed a good deal of port, for it 
 makes them swell out immensely, and gives them noses a-la- 
 Bardolph ; and the symptoms of good eating and drinking should 
 be set forth a little in caricatura upon the outward man of such 
 folk, just as we Avish inferior servants to wear crimson breeches, 
 pea-green coats, and other extravaganzas upon finery. As for 
 dram-drinking, I think nobody ought to indulge in it except a 
 man under sentence of death, who wishes to make the very 
 most of his time, and who knows that, let him live never so 
 quietly, his complexion will inevitably be quite spoilt in the 
 course of the week. A gallon of good stout brandy is a treasure 
 to a man in this situation ; though, if I were in his place, I 
 rather think I should still stick to my three bottles of claret and
 
 MAXIJIS OF ODOHERTY. 153 
 
 dozen cigars per dieyn ; for I sliould be afraid of the otlicr sys- 
 tem's effects upon my nervous system. 
 
 ittn):im l>sriurti)=fu-st. 
 
 In one of my previous Maxims I have laid it down, that " the 
 intensely amorous temperament, in a female, stamps melancholy 
 on her eyehd." This, I find, has given rise to much remark, 
 and a considerable controversy is still going on in one of the in- 
 ferior periodicals. Shakspere, however, is entirely on my side. 
 ^When he was a young man, and wrote his Troilus and Cressida,* 
 he appears indeed to have thought otherwise. It was then that 
 he made his Ulysses say, — 
 
 " Fie, fie upon her ! 
 
 Tlierc's lung^uage in her eye, her cheek, her lip ! 
 Nay, her foot speaks : her wanton spirits look out 
 At every joint and motion of her hotly. 
 Oh, these encounterers ! so glibe of tongue, 
 Th;it give accosting welcome ere it conies. 
 And wide unclasp the tablet of their thoughts 
 To every ticklish reader. Sot them down 
 For sluttish spoils of opportunity. 
 And daughters of the game " 
 
 Animated and beautifully said, but the theory of the sage Greek 
 quite false ! The same poet, after looking at human nature for 
 a number of years, arrived at truer views. It was then that he 
 represented Juliet — 
 
 " See! how she leans her check iqwn her handi" 
 
 It was then that he conceived the rich and meditative voluptu- 
 ousness of the all-accomplished Cleopatra, and described the 
 pious resolves of " the citrled Antony," as feeble and ineffectual 
 Avhen opposed to the influence of that 
 
 " Grave charm. 
 
 Whose eye beck'd forth his wars, and call'd them home; — 
 
 Whose bosom was his crownet, his chief end." 
 
 Helen, in Homer, is also unjformly represented as a melancholy 
 creature ; and the most pathetic thing that has ever been Avrit- 
 ten, is her lamentation over her virtue in the 24th Iliad. To 
 
 * " Truilus and Cressida" was not written when Shakspei-e was a young man. 
 It came out as late as 1609, when Shakspere was 45 years old. — M.
 
 lo-l THE ODOKERTY PAPERS. 
 
 eonclude, the late Rev. Lawrence Sterne (a prime connoissetir) 
 has recorded, in distinct terms, his opinion as to which is " the 
 most serious of all passions." We four, then, are of the same 
 way of thinking as to this matter. 
 
 iflSlavini Winctjj^scconti. 
 
 In helping a lady to wine, always fill the glass to the very 
 brim, for custom prevents tliem from taking many glasses at a 
 time ; and I have seen cross looks when the rule has been neg- 
 lected by young and inexperienced dandies. 
 
 iftatajrim W(ncti)=tI)irO. 
 
 The King, if Sir Thomas LaAvrence's last and best picture 
 of him may be believed, wears, when dressed for dinner, a very 
 short blue surtout, trimmed with a little fur, and embroidered 
 in black silk upon the breast, all about the button-holes, &c. — 
 black breeches and stockings, and a black -stock.* I wish to 
 call general attention to this, in the hopes of seeing his Majes- 
 ty's example speedily and extensively adopted. The modern 
 coat is the part of our usual dress which has always given most 
 disgust in the eye of people of taste ; and I am, tlierefore, ex- 
 ceedingly happy to think that there is now a probability of its 
 being entirely exploded. The white neckcloth is another 
 abomination, and it also must be dismissed. A blue surtout, 
 and blue trowsers richly embroidered down the seams, form 
 the handsomest dress which any man can wear within the 
 limits of European costume.t 
 
 JHajrim Winetjj^fourti). 
 
 Mediocrity is ahvays disgusting, except, perhaps, medioc- 
 rity of stature in a woman. Give me the Paradise Lost, the 
 Faerie Queen, the Vanity of Humgn Wishes, that I may feel 
 
 " This is the celebrated portrait, engraved by Finden (who was three years 
 at work on the plnte) on which the late Mr. Turveydrop, in Bleak House, took 
 his last lessons on " deportment." — M. 
 
 t Maginn's almost invariable attire was a blue froclc coat. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OV ODOHERTY. 155 
 
 myself elevated and ennobled; give me Endymion, or tlie 
 Flood of Thessaly, or Pye's Alfred, that I may be tickled 
 and amused* But on no account give me an eminently 
 respectable poem of the Beattie or Campbell class, for tliat 
 merely sets one to sleep. In like fasliion, give me, if you Avish 
 to make me feel in the heaven of heavens, a /looIcaJi. There is 
 no question that this is the Pjn-adite Gained of the smoker. But, 
 if you cannot give me that, give me a cigar; with which whoso 
 is not contented deserves to hihale sixteen pipes of assafcetida 
 per diem in secula seculorum. What I set my face against is 
 the vile mediocrity of a jnpc, properly so called. No pipe is 
 cleanly but the common Dutch clay, and that is a great recom- 
 mendation, I admit ; but there is something so hideously absurd 
 in the appearance of a man with a clay pipe in his mouth, that I 
 rather wonder any body can have courage to present himself in 
 such a position. The whole tribe of mterscliaums, &c., are filthi- 
 ness itself. These get saturated witli the odious oil of the plant, 
 and are, in fact, poisonous. The only Avay in which you can 
 have a pipe at once gay-looking and cleanly, is to have a glass 
 tube within it, which can be washed with water immediately 
 after use ; but then the glass gets infernally hot. On the whole, 
 unless you be a grandee, and can afibrd to have a servant ex- 
 pressly devoted to the management of your smoking concerns, 
 in which case a Iwoliali is due to yourself, the best way is to 
 have nothing but cigars. 
 
 lilavim Niucti5=&'ftl). 
 
 The Havana cigar is unquestionably at the head. You 
 know it by the peculiar beauty of the firm, brown, smooth, deli- 
 cately-textured, and soft leaf; and if you have any thing of a 
 nose, you can never be deceived as to its odour, for it is a per- 
 fect bouquet. The Chinese cheroots are the next in order ; but 
 the devil of it is, that one can seldom get them, and then they 
 are always dry beyond redemption. The best Chinese cheroots 
 
 ** Endymion, by John Keats; the Flood of Thessaly by Bairy Comwall : 
 Alfiod, an epic popm, by Henry James Pye, poet-hiuieate from 1790 to his 
 fleaih in 1813. — M.
 
 150 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 have a delicate grayish tinge ; and, if they are not complete 
 sticks, put them into an air-tight vessel, with a few slices of 
 a good juicy melon, and, in the course of a few hours, they 
 will extract some humidity from their neighbours. Some people 
 use a sliced apple, others a carrot, either of Avhich may do when 
 a melon is not to be had, but that is the real article, when at- 
 tainable. As to all the plans of moistening cigars by means of 
 tea-leaves, i-um-grog, &c., they are utterly absurd, and no true 
 smoker ever thinks of them, Manilla cigars occupy the third 
 station in my esteem, but their enormous size renders them in- 
 convenient. One hates being seen sucking away at a thing 
 like a walking-cane. I generally find that Gliddon, of London, 
 has the best cigars in the market. George Cotton, of Edin- 
 burgh, is also very recherche in these articles. But, as I believe 
 I once remarked before, a man must smuggle, in the present 
 state of tlie code. 
 
 N. B. It will be observed that I have changed my views as 
 to some very serious parts of this subject, since the year of grace 
 1818, when I composed my verses to my pipe — 
 
 " Divine invention of the age of Bess," &c. 
 
 which John Schetky is so fond of reciting, and which Byron 
 plagiarised so audaciously in his mutincering production.* As 
 my friend Mr. Jeffrey lately said, when toasting Kadical B-eform, 
 " Time makes us all wiser." 
 
 I^avim Wi'nct»*si'):tf). 
 
 Cold whisky-punch is almost unheard of out of Ireland, and 
 yet, without instituting any invidious comparisons, it is a liquor 
 of most respectable character, and is frequently attainable where 
 cold rwiw-punch is not. The reason why it has got a bad name 
 in Great Britain is, that they make it with cold water, Avhereas 
 it ought always to be made with boiling water, and allowed to 
 concoct and cool for a day or two before it is put on the table. 
 In this way, the materials get more intensely amalgamated than 
 cold water and cold whisky ever do get. As to the beautiful 
 mutual adaptation of cold rum and cold water, that is beyond all 
 
 * See page 44 in this volume. Schetky was an artist in Eflinbni-gh. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 157 
 
 praise, and intleccl forms a tlieme of never-ceasing admiration, 
 being one of Nature's most exquisite acliievements * Sturm lias 
 omitted it, but I mean to make a supplement to his Reflections 
 when I get a little leisure. 
 
 ifttavtin Wiuct))=scbenti). 
 
 No real smoker uses any of these little knick-knackeries they 
 sell under the name of cigar-tubes, and the like of that. The 
 chief merit of the thing is the extreme gentleness and delicacy 
 with which the smoke is drawn out of the leaf by the loving 
 and anhnated contact, and eternally varying play and pressure 
 of that most wonderful piece of refined mechanism, the lip of 
 man ; whereas, if you are to go to work upon a piece of silver, 
 ivory, horn, wood, or whatever these concerns are made of, you 
 lose the whole of this, and, indeed, you may as well take a pipe 
 at once. 
 
 iWavii" Wiii£ti»=eifll)tf). 
 
 The reason why many important matters remain in obscurity 
 and doubt is, that nobody has adopted the proper means for 
 having them cleared up. For example, one often hears of a 
 man making a bargain with one friend of his, that whichsoever 
 of the pair happens to die first will, if possible, revisit the 
 glimpses of the moon, and thereby satisfy the survivor of tb.e 
 existence of ghosts. This, however, is ridiculous, because it is 
 easy to see that there may be special circumstances to prevent 
 this particular spirit from doing what is wanted. Now, to put 
 an end to this at once, I hereby invite one and all of my friends 
 who peruse this maxim to pay me a visit of the kind alluded to. 
 Surely you cannot all be incapable of doing the thing, if it is to 
 be done at all. 
 
 * OJohcrty refers, no doubt, to the far-famed Glasg-ow Punch, in which cold 
 rum and cold water certainly do bear part, but not exclusively. The receipt 
 for making a quart jug- of it is as follows : — Melt lump sugar in cold water, 
 with the juice of a couple of lemons, passed through a fine hair-strainer. This 
 is Slierl)et, and must be well mingled. Then add old Jamaica rum — one part 
 of rum to five of the sherbet. Cut a couple of limes in two, and run each sec- 
 tion rapidly round the edge of the jug or bowl, gently squeezing in some of 
 the delicate acid. This done, the punch is made. Imbibe. — M.
 
 158 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS, 
 
 fllavim WinEti)=itintS. 
 
 In ortlei' to know what cod really is, j^ou must eat it at New- 
 foundlancl. Hemng is not worthy of the name, except on the 
 banks of Lochfine in Argyleshire ; and the best salmon in the 
 whole world is that of the Boyne* Dr. Kitchener, in all prob- 
 ability, never tasted any one of these things, and yet the man 
 writes a book upon cookery ! It is really too much for a man 
 to write about salmon, who never eat it until it had been kept 
 for ten days in a tub of snow, which is the case with all that 
 comes to London, excepting the very few salmon caught in the 
 Thames, t and these are as inferior in firmness and gusto to those 
 of a mountain stream, as the mutton of a Lincolnshire squire is 
 to that of Sir Watkin of Wales| or Jamie Hogg of Ettrick, 
 This fish ought to be eat as soon as possible after he is caught. 
 Nothing can then exceed the beautiful curdiness of his texture, 
 whereas your kept fish gets a fiaccidity that I cannot away 
 with. 
 
 N. B. Simple boiling is the only way with a salmon just 
 caught ; but a gentleman of standing is much the better for be- 
 ing cut into thickish slices — cut across, I mean — and grilled 
 with cayenne. I have already spoken as to the sauce. |1 
 
 iEajrim ®ne ?l§uuUccM|). 
 
 The best of all pies is a grouse-pie ; the second a blackcock- 
 pie ; the third a woodcock-pie (with plenty of spices) ; the fourth 
 a chicken-pie (ditto.) As for a pigeon-pie, it is not worthy of a 
 
 * Dublin Bay herrings are the best. It is impossible to say whence the best 
 salmon comes. There is fine salmon in the Wye and the Severn. From the 
 north of Ireland a great quantity is now railed off, in ice, to the London mai- 
 ket. In the Dee, between Aberdeen and Ballater, many salmon are caught on 
 the leap, instantly cleaned out, crimped, and boiled witliin a few yards of the 
 river. The fish thus caught and thus treated, is very fine indeed. — M. 
 
 + It may safely be averred that not " within the memory of the oldest inhab- 
 itant" has salmon been caught in the Thames. — M. 
 
 t The late Sir William Watkiiis Wyiin, of Winnstay, from his vnst property 
 and great influence in ihe Principality, was called " King of Wales.' — M. 
 
 II The Odoherty salmon-sauce (as described in Maxim xxxii.) is made of 
 vinegar, mustard, Cayenne peppei', and paisley. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 159 
 
 place upon any table, so long- as there are chickens in the 
 Avorld. A rook-pie is a bad imitation of that bad article ; and a 
 beefsteak-pie is really abominable. A good pie is excellent 
 when hot ; but the test of a good pie is, "Hoav does it eat cold ?" 
 — Apply this to the examples above cited, and you will find I 
 am correct. 
 
 iSatajrim ©ne JQuntrreO nntr jFivst. 
 
 Never taste any thing but whisky on the moors. Porter or 
 ale blows you up, and destroys your M'ind. Wine gets acid im- 
 mediately on an empty stomach. And put no water to your 
 whisky, for if you once begin swilling water, you will never stop 
 till you make a bag of yourself. A thimbleful of neat spirits 
 once an hour is the thing ; but one bumper at starting, and an- 
 other exactly at noon, is found very wholesome. 
 
 IHavii" ©ii£ Jiijuntivctr aitti ScconO. 
 
 No man need be afraid of drinking a very considerable quan- 
 tity of neat whisky, when in the wilds of Ireland or Scotland. 
 The mountain air requires to be balanced by another stimulus ;* 
 and if you wish to be really Avell, you must ahvays take a bum- 
 per before you get out of bed, and another after getting into it, 
 according to the fashion of tlie country you are in. 
 
 I^apiin ®nc Jl^untircli aixli SEftivtr. 
 
 The Scotch writers of our day seem to consider it as an es- 
 tablished thing, that their country furnishes the best breakfast 
 in Europe ; but this I cannot swallow — I mean the assertion, 
 not the breakfast, which I admit to be excellent, but deny to be 
 peerless. The fact is, that breakfast is among the things that 
 have never yet received any thing like the attention merited. 
 The best breakfast is unquestionably that of France ; their cof- 
 
 * The mountain air really has the effuct here attributed to it. A inaii who, 
 in ordinary cases, would pause before he committed the enormity of drinking 
 a glass of neat spirits, will take two or three glasses, after he is braced by tlie 
 mountain air, and fatigued by the steep mountain ascent. But there is no oc- 
 casion for taking any neat spirits whatever. — M.
 
 IGO THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 fee, indeed, is not qidtc equal to that of Germany, but tlie eata- 
 bles are unrivalled ; and I may be wrong, but somehow or other 
 I can never help thinking tliat French wines are better in the 
 morning than any others. It is here that Ave are behind every 
 other nation in Europe — the whole of us, English, Scotch, and 
 Irish ; we take no wine at breakfast. 
 
 A philosophic mind devoted to this subject, would, I think, 
 adopt a theory not widely different from the following, which, 
 however, I venture to lay down Avith much diffidence. I say, 
 then, that a man's breakfast should be adapted to his pursuits 
 — it should come home to his business as well as to his bosom. 
 The man who intends to study all the morning, should take a 
 cup or tAvo of cofPee, a Httle Avell-executed toast, and the Aving 
 of a partridge or grouse, AA'hen in season ; at other times of the 
 year, a small slice of cold chicken, with plenty of pepper and 
 mustard ; this light diet prepares him for the elastic exercise of 
 his intellectual powers. On the other hand, if you are going to 
 the fox-chase, or to the moors, or to any sphere of violent bodily 
 exertion whatever, in this case your breakfast Avill be good and 
 praiseAvorthy, exactly in proportion as it approaches to the char- 
 acter of a good and praiscAvorthy dinner. Hot potatoes, chops, 
 beefsteaks, a pint of Burgundy, a quart of good old beer — these 
 are the sort of materials a sportsman's dejeune should consist of. 
 Fried fish is an excellent thing also — particularly the herring. 
 If you have been tipsy over night, and feel squeamish, settle 
 your heart Avith half a glass of old cogniac, ere you assume the 
 knife and fork ; but on no account indulge the whimsies of your 
 stomach, so as to go A\'ithout a real breakfast, — ^^ L'appetit vient 
 en mangeant,'^ quoth the most veracious of adages — therefore 
 begin boldly upon something very highly peppered, and as hot 
 as Gomorrah, and then no fear of the result. You Avill feel your- 
 self another man, when you have laid in a pound of something. 
 
 Of tea, I have on various occasions hinted my total scorn. It 
 is a weak, nervous affair, adapted for the digestion of boarding- 
 school misses, Avhose occupation is painting roses from the life, 
 practising quadrilles, strumming on the instrument, and so forth. 
 Old people of sedentary habits may take chocolate if they like 
 it ; I, for my part, stick to coffee Avhen I am studious.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 161 
 
 i^SIaviiu ©UE Jljunnvctr auO iFouvtij. 
 
 Bv eating- a hearty breakfast, you escape the temptation of 
 hincheon — a snare into which he who has a sufficient respect 
 for his dinner will rarely fall. 
 
 J^avim ©ne JQunm-clr anO JFiftI). 
 
 I AGREE with Falstaff, in his contempt for the prevalent ab- 
 surdity of eating eggs, eggs, eggs at breakfast. " No pullet- 
 sperm in my brewage," say I. I prefer the chicken to the egg, 
 and the hen, Avhen she is really a fine bird, and well roasted or 
 grilled, to the chicken. 
 
 iftaavim ©itc J^untircti anti Sift!). 
 
 Cold pig's face is one of the best things in the world for break- 
 fast, but it should not be taken unless you are to be active shortly 
 after, for it is so good that one can scarcely help taking a great 
 deal when one begins to it. Eat it with shallot, vinegar and 
 French mustard. Fruit at breakfast is Avhat I cannot recom- 
 mend ;* but if you Avill take it, be sure not to omit another 
 dram after it, for if you do, you will certainly feel heavyish all 
 the morning. 
 
 N. B. — The best breakfast-dram is whisky, when it is really 
 very old and fine, but brandy is more commonly to be had in 
 perfection among the majority of my readers. Cherry brandy 
 is not the thing at breakfast ; it is too sweet, and not strong 
 enough. In the Highlands of Scotland, people of extraordinary 
 research give you whisky strongly impregnated with a variety 
 of mountain herbs. And this, I am bound to admit, is attended 
 with the most admirable consequences; — but they will not part 
 with their receipts, therefore it is not worth Avhile for me to do 
 more than merely allude to the fact. Be sure you take it when 
 on the spot. 
 
 * Yet the old proverb says, " Fruit is gold in the morning ; silver at noon ; 
 and lead at niglit." — M.
 
 162 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 iiatapiw ®nc Jfjuulivfli anti Sebcnti). 
 
 Some people wear Cossackb* with silk stockings — nothing 
 can be in M'orse taste. These gentlemen seem to think that 
 their Cossacks smack of the Don, whereas nothing can be so 
 decidedly oriental. 
 
 ifHnpm ©ne ?l}iinlirclj anO ISiflljtl). 
 
 Never wear a coat with a velvet collar — not even a sur- 
 tont.t This maxim is, however, almost unnecessary ; for no 
 tailor, whose coat it is possible to wear, would ever think of put- 
 ting a velvet collar on any vesture intended to be worn on the 
 west side of Temple-bar. 
 
 ifllavim ®nc yi^unttreU anU Nfiitl). 
 
 Never eat turtle at the West End of the Town, except at 
 the houses of the West Indians. The turtle at the occidental 
 coffee-houses is always lean and poor, and wants the oriental 
 richness and flavour of Bleaden's.| 
 
 ^avim (Dnc ?i?unlJccli anU STcnti). 
 
 There is nothing so difficult as the invention of a new tie. 
 You might almost as easily find out a sixth order of architec- 
 ture. I once made a drawing of a iioclus from a Lachrymatory 
 found at Herculaneum, and found it had a good efi'ect when re- 
 duced to practice. Its great beauty was, that you did not know 
 where the knot began, nor where it ended. Even of the origi- 
 
 * The present tiowsers wore iiUroJuccd into England iii 1814, when the em- 
 peror Alexander of Russia brought some of his loose-trowsered Cossacks over 
 to Eiii^'land. Before that time, tight pantaloons or breeches (these last with 
 or without boots) were the fashion. — M. 
 
 t In the year 1855, the tailor will justly dissent from this Maxim. A third 
 of nil the coats now in use are made with velvet collars. — M. 
 
 t Bleaden kept a well-known hosleirie, called The King's Head, in a court 
 off Cheapside, London, and was famous for his soups — particularly liis turtle, 
 viith an accompaniment of cold iced punch. — M. 
 
 V
 
 JFAXTMS OF ODOHERTY. 1G3 
 
 rality of tliis tie, I wns for some time doulitful, till one evening 
 at the Oper.a I lieard Hnglics Ball* exclaim, in an ecstasy of 
 surprise and admiration, — " By G — d, there's a new tie !"' 
 
 iHavint ®ne J^unDrclr anlr Hlciicntf). 
 
 Man and Avife generally resemble each other in features, 
 never in disposition, A goodnatured man marries a shrew — a 
 choleric man, an insensible lump of matter — a witty man, an 
 insipid woman — and a very great fool, a blue-stocking. 
 
 The reason of the resemblance in face I take to be this r 
 every man thinks him.self the handsomest person in existence ; 
 and therefore, in looking out for a wife, he always chooses the 
 woman that most nearly resembles himself. 
 
 The reason for dissimilarity in disposition, is even more plain. 
 Every one respects another for the quality, good or bad, which 
 he himself wants. Besides, this sort of opposition prevents the 
 holy and happy state from getting flat, as it otherwise would, 
 and produces upon it the same effects as acids upon an alkali 
 The worthy Bishop of Uurliam was lamenting to Dr. Paley the 
 death of his Avife — "We lived nineteen years together," said 
 his lordship, " and never had two opinions about any thing in all 
 that time. What think you of that, Doctor ?" — "Indeed, my 
 Lord," rejoined Paley, in his broad Carlisle accent, " I think it 
 must ha' been vera fiat." I am orthodox, and quite agree with 
 Dr. Paley. 
 
 J^arim ®ne JH^unrrvcIi and S:U)clft1). 
 
 Some people talk of devils ; all our common devils are dam- 
 nable. The best devil is a slice of roast ham which has been 
 basted with Madeira, and then spiced with Cayenne. 
 
 * Mr. Hughes Ball, a man of great wealth, fell in love with a danscnse at the 
 Italian Opera in London, who was called Signora Mercandotti, and married 
 her. For a short time (anterior to his marriage) he was looked up to by the 
 Ml all dandies as a veritable "arbiter elegantiarum." The story went that tiiis 
 Gi>Mi'ii Bull, as he was familiarly called, had disbursed £1000 I'nr a dressing- 
 cise, the filiings-up of which were of solid gold! He subsided into a i-espect- 
 aljle m:irrie(l man, and is yet alive. — M.
 
 164 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 l^avinx ®ne ?S}unt)ictJ nntr grijirtfcntf). 
 
 In Paris there is no restaurateur whose house unites all the 
 requisites for dining avcIL* I have had long experience of them, 
 and can speak Avith authority. Beaixvilliers' is a good quiet 
 house, Avhere you get all the regular French dishes admirably 
 dressed. His J/icassees de j'oulet are not to be surpassed ; they 
 have a delicate flavour of the almond, which is quite inimitable 
 — and his pates and vol-au-vcnts are superb. But he has neither 
 his vegetables nor his venison so early as Very. I don't by any 
 means agree with those people who extol the cookery at Very 's ; 
 it is excellent, certainly — but not better than that of the other 
 firstrate houses. The thing in which Very really surpasses all the 
 rest, is in his desserts ; his fruits are magnificent, and look as if 
 they came from the gardens of Brobdignag. I used to like the 
 cookery and the chambertin of the Trois frcrcs Provencaux, but 
 I think this house has fallen off latterly in everything but those 
 delicious salads — " Spots of greenery," as Mr. Coleridge calls 
 them. The cookery at Grignon's I think decidedly bad ; but 
 his white Avines, and particularly the Haut Barsac, have what 
 my friend Goethe call a paradise clearness and odour. The 
 only place where one can dine well, from soup down to Curaqoa, 
 is at the Rocher de Cancah, though it stands in avillanous dirty 
 street. If anybody wants to know how far the force of French 
 cookery can go, let him dine at the Rocher — especially if he is 
 a piscivorous person, like myself. The soups are beyond all 
 praise — and the, potage j^^'cntanicre (spring soup) absolutely as- 
 tounds you by the prematurity of vegetation which it proves. I 
 ate asparagus soii|i at the Rocher de Cancah, on the 18th of 
 January. Rupes Cancullcnsis, csto i^erpetua ! 
 
 il^avim ©lie JQuntivcti niitr jyoiutecnt]^. 
 
 At a restaurateur's, when you ask for any wine above the 
 pitch of vin ordinaire, always examine the cork before you 
 
 * This represents a state of things, in Paris, fully 30 years ago, and is not 
 applicable to ils present status as regards the means and appliances of dining 
 well. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 165 
 
 allow the somindier to draw it. This is a mcaxim worth any 
 money. The French have an odious custom of allowing people 
 to have half hottles of the higher Avines. The waiters, of 
 course, fill up the bottle with an inferior sort, and seal it again ; 
 so that you frequently get your Sauterne christened with Chab- 
 lis, I am sorry to be obliged to say, that at the RocJier de CaJi- 
 cale, this trick is very commonly played off. It certainly injures 
 the respectability of the house, and even endangers the throne 
 of the Bourbons. I ought here in gratitude to mention, that at 
 Prevofs, one of the best of the second-rate restaurateurs, I have 
 drunk delicious Chateau grille — a wine very rarely found in 
 the cartes. 
 
 f&,^y:m ®nc ?^^inlri-cti anU JFiftccntf). 
 
 In Paris, when you have two invitations for the same eve- 
 nting, (one from an EngHsh, and one from an Irish lady,) always 
 accept the latter. You may be quite sure of having supper at 
 the Irish house, which will not be the case at the English one ; 
 and you may depend upon having the best punch. 
 
 ifiaajrim ®nc JJ^unDreO anU SijrtccntJ, 
 
 As a general rale, never accept an invitation to a French 
 Soiree, unless you are fond of Eau sucree Ecarle at night, and 
 disorder of the colon next morning. 
 
 ifWa);iin ©ne Jljuntircl) anO Scbcntccntf). 
 
 When you have an invitation to one or more parties in the 
 same evening, always accept that of an old maid (if you receive 
 one) in preference to the others. You are sure of being better 
 received, and — I don't know for what reason, but the fact is so 
 — old maids are generally fond of that last of the day, com- 
 monly called supper. Your attention, besides, to the lots of iced 
 punch, dispenses you from paying much to the ladies a la glace, 
 who muster in great force on such occasions.
 
 166 THE ODOHERTY PAPEES. 
 
 IHavim #ne JH^iinOrcli anD 3Si'2!)tccnt|). 
 
 Never wear a bright purple coat* — it does uot harmonise 
 well with any colour of trousers. 
 
 iWajrim ®ne jQ^unOrcti and Wtncteentlj. 
 
 All the poets whom I have ever seen, except Sir "Walter 
 Scott, look lean and hungry. I do not except Coleridge, he- 
 cause he never writes. 
 
 iWavhn ®ne ?fc)untirca anU SCtocntictJ). 
 
 The hest coffee in Paris is made at the Cafe des Colonnes ; 
 — or, as Mr. Jeffrey rejoiceth more to spell it, the Caffee des 
 MiLLES Colonnes; and the liqueurs are superb. The Belle 
 Limonadiere, alas ! hath passed away — but the rooms are more 
 splendid than ever.t There is a paradise opened lately on the 
 Boulevard, called the Cafe Turc ; but then it is on the Boule- 
 vard du Temple — and who ever went there since the Revolu- 
 tion ? The gardens are but half lighted — so as to throw a 
 delicious and dreamy twilight about you — and this contrasts 
 admirably with the blaze of glory which flashes on you as you 
 enter the saloon itself, all glittering with mirrors, and glowing 
 with gold, and fretted with what seem diamonds, rubies, and 
 amethysts. The Cafe is built in the form of a superb Turkish 
 hall, and is gorgeous as the Opium-Eater's Oriental Dreams, or 
 a Chapter in Yathek ! Mr. Wordsworth describes this Cafe : 
 
 "Fabric it seems of diamond and of gold. 
 With golden column upon column high 
 Uplifted — towers, thai on their restless fronts 
 Bear stars — illumination of all gems — 
 Far sinking into splendour, without end!" 
 
 * This is supposing an almost impossible case. No persons, except the liv- 
 ery servants of Archbishops and Bishops, wear purple coats. — M. 
 
 t When I last saw it [Nov. 1852] nothing could look more dingy and shabby 
 genteel than The Thousand-pillar Cafe, with its gilding changed to black by 
 time, gas, and neglect. — M.,
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 1(37 
 
 fttavim (But J^xinXtuti anU 2Clucutj)=fi'vst. 
 
 Nothing is so luimiliiiting to a man of reflection, on awaking 
 in the morning, as the conviction which forces itself upon him 
 that he has been drunk the night before. I do not mean, gen- 
 tle reader, that he repents him of having been drunk — this ho 
 ■will, of course, consider meritorious — but he cannot help the in- 
 truding persuasion, that all the things he uttered after he en- 
 tered into a state of civilation* (if he recollects any thing about 
 them) were utter stupidities, which he mistook at the time for 
 either wit, Avisdom, or eloquence. 
 
 |^aj:im ©ne jBJuntrvcti anrr 2riDcntn=secontf. 
 
 People often say of a man that he is a cunning fellow. This 
 can never be true — for if he Avere, nobody could find out that 
 he was. 
 
 iWavim ©ne J^untrveO anti Srtocntjstijii-B. 
 
 Cayenne pepper in crystal is a most meritorious invention 
 of those worthy lads, the Waughs in Regent Street.t Before 
 their time the flavour of Cayenne could never be equally dis- 
 tributed through soups and sauces. 
 
 ifWa):im ®ne JQuntrreO anti ^Ttocntn^fouvtl). 
 
 No artist or musician, that was ever good for any thing as 
 such, was ever good for any thing else. Even Michel Angelo 
 was a A^ery indifferent poet — though Mr. Wordsworth has taken 
 the trouble to translate some of his sonnets. 
 
 ifWaFim ©ne ^H^unUveO atxti 2riDenti=fift|j. 
 
 It is singular that scarcely any tailor who can make a coat 
 well, can make pantaloons. Such tailors are like those histori- 
 
 * When a man, vciy di-unk, utters the word civilation, as a substitute fur 
 eiviliznlion (which then is too difficult to be uttered correctly in full) it may 
 safely be anticipated that he has exceeded the bounds of sobriety. — M. 
 
 t The Waughs were brothers, of the Quaker sect, who failed about 1834, 
 and had, in their time, the handsomest drug-shop in London. — M.
 
 168 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 cal painters who could paint figures, but not landscapes. Stulze 
 is the Raphael of tailors, but he is falling fast into a hard and 
 dry style of cutting : Nugee is the Correggio : — but there is no 
 Michel Angelo — no master of the gran Contorno. Place is the 
 Radical tailor — but since he became a Westminster reviewer, 
 he is more engaged in cutting up than cutting out * I wonder 
 if he sends in his bills quarterly as well as his reviews ! Came- 
 ron & Co., the army tailors of Henrietta Street, make the best 
 pantaloons in London : and nobody can achieve like them a pair 
 of tight pantaloons — a thing, as Dr. Johnson pathetically ob- 
 serves, always expected, and never found ! 
 
 ITOavun ®nc ?if}unl3vcO and 2rtocntii=si):tl). 
 
 There is one sort of tie which it is very difficult to make, and 
 ■which I cannot explain to my readers without a diagram. It 
 contains in itself, however, the elements of all other ties : and 
 when a man can make this one well, he has the secret of all the 
 rest. 
 
 ifHajrim ®ne ?!Juntivrti anU STtocntij^sebcntl). 
 
 Much is said about the French politeness. I do not think 
 them a polite people, and for this reason : In France, if you 
 ever do get drunk, it must be while the ladies are at table — for 
 they quit it along with you. Now, I hold it to be a proof of 
 utter want of politeness to get drunk before women — and not 
 to get drunk at all, proves a man to be equally unfit for a state 
 of civilation. 
 
 iHJlafim ®ne Jljunnvcti antr SEtoents^cijjIjtf). 
 
 Despise humbug — I once dined with Wilberforce, in com- 
 pany with a black who had been manumitted. Mr. Wilber- 
 
 * Francis Place, who kejit a tailor's shop at Charing Cross, was a strong 
 liberal, with great influence over the Electors of Westminster. He wrote ably 
 on Political Economy, and contiibuted largely to the Westminster Jievieto, 
 when conducted on the Benthamite principle of " the greatest happiness for 
 the greatest number of persons." — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 169 
 
 force's reasons for placing him at table with gentlemen was, that 
 "he was a man and a brother." I think Mr. Wilberforce's white 
 servants must have thought their case very hard as compared 
 with that of the ex-slave. 
 
 I^lavim ©ne ?i§mxlrreli anH STtocjitg^nnit^. 
 
 Of Whisky there are more numerous varieties than of any 
 other spirit. Perhaps, however, in this I may be deceived, for 
 my greater intimacy with that fluid may make me more sensi- 
 tive as to the minute distinctions of taste. It is probable that 
 in France the palate of the connoisseur is equally cognoscent of 
 the varieties of brandy. I repent that, during my late tour 
 in that country, I did not make inquiries on this most important 
 point ; but I shall decidedly ask my friend, the Vicomte d'Ar- 
 lincourt* — a man for whom I have a particular esteem — con- 
 cerning it, when I next shall have the pleasure of seeing him at 
 Ambrose's. 
 
 if^apm ©ne JQuntivcti anb tE\jivtietij. 
 
 With respect to the last maxim, it is to be remai'ked, in cor- 
 roboration of the hypothesis there hinted at, [hinted at, I say, 
 for I by no me<^s pledge myself to the dead certainty of the 
 fact,) that a most particular diversity of taste exists in the sev- 
 eral rums. Antigua has a peculiar smack and relish, by which 
 it is to be known from Jamaica at first gulp. Yet it is very 
 possible, experto credc, to bam even a connoisseur by giving him 
 good whisky — free from the empyreumatic taste Avhich \^ fre- 
 quently observable on several even of licensed whiskies, and 
 always on potliecn — mixed subdolously with burnt brown sugar. 
 It is a great imitation. 
 
 * The Vicomte d'Arlincourt, a French novelist, who flourished some thirty 
 years ago. One of his productions, in which he had pedantically paraded his 
 knowledge of geology, got a terrible peppering from Odoherty, in No. VII. of 
 the NocTEs Ambrosian.!;. — M, 
 
 Vol. I. — 8
 
 J TO THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 ifHnvim ®ne fi^unDrcD anH S:i)irti)=£i-st. 
 
 To return to Avhisky. InisLoAven is generally accounted the 
 best potheen ; but, as far as regards my own private drinking, 
 I prefer that manufactured at Roscrea, in the county of Tippe- 
 rary, where I have frequently drunk it with the Rev. John 
 Hamilton, who, by-the-bye, is most untruly and unfairly abused 
 by the little Whig libeller, Tom Moore, in his Fudge Family, 
 (p. 61,) in company, to be sure, Avith much higher people, which, 
 of course, is a consolation* Potheen improves much by age. 
 I must say, that one principal reason of its being preferred to 
 Parliament whisky, arises from the natural propensity to do 
 what is forbidden ; and I add, as my candid opinion, that if it 
 were taxed, it would not be in such estimation as that pi'ocured 
 by scientific distillation from large stills — that is, if the great 
 distillers could be depended upon for honesty, and were not to 
 be siispected shrewdly of making use of other ingredients than 
 malt.t 
 
 N. B. — I here intended to have gone in at some length to the 
 divers qualities of all the whisky fluids of the empire, and; with 
 a minute and critical, and, on mine honor, an impartial survey 
 of the whole, to have given my opinion on their various merits 
 or demerits : but I fear that the consideration would be too 
 
 * The Rev. John HamiUon, roclor of Roscrea, de^-ved to be abused. 
 Wishing that the district in which he resided should be considered as disturb- 
 ed by Whileboy movements, he put a stuffed figure in one of his. windows, to 
 represent himself, went out on the lawn and shot at it, and strongly asseverated 
 that the Whiteboys had attempted to assassinate him ! Moore's allusion is as 
 
 follows : — 
 
 " I doubt not you could find us, too. 
 
 Some Orange Parsons that might do ; 
 
 Among the rest, we've heard of one. 
 
 The Reverend — something — Hamilton. 
 
 Who made a figure of himself 
 
 (Delicious thought!) and had it shot at. 
 To bring some Papist to the shelf. 
 
 That couldn't otherwise be got at — 
 If ^e'll but join the Association, 
 We'll vote him in by acclamation." — M. 
 \ A great portion of the whisky in Scotland and Ireland is manufactured 
 from raw grain. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OP ODOHERTY. 171 
 
 lengthy for a list of mere maxims. Brevity is tlie very sonl 
 (not of wit, to be sure, in this case, for that vain and frivohnis 
 ingredient ought to be far from our thoughts when discussing 
 subjects of interest to the human race, but — ) of apophthegms; 
 but when these my Maxims arc gathered, as, God wiUing, they 
 shall be, into a separate volume, I shall, about this part of them, 
 insert a long and deeply-meditated paper, in which I shall 
 chemically, scientifically, compotically, and empirically — a word 
 which I here use, Mr. Coleridge, in its true and original sense — 
 discuss the whole subject, in such a way, that, like Dr. Barrow 
 preaching before King Charles the Second, it Avill be universally 
 conceded to me that I have exhausted it. Mr. William Thomas 
 Brande and Sir Humphry Davy* have kindly consented to 
 draw up the chemical tables, with the same precision as they 
 have already done those for wines. I have also in hand a paper 
 written by a couple of ingenious philosophers, " On the Uses 
 and Abuses of Porter," seriously summed up by them with that 
 skill and talent which so truly marks these eminent and erudite 
 men ; and that, too, I shall insert in some conspicuous part of 
 my volume. It will be found to be a very instructive and inter- 
 esting paper. 
 
 iJ^aapm #nc J^unOicti nnti i!ri)ii-ti'=SEconO. 
 
 In parts out of Ireland, you can not convince people of the 
 right method of pronouncing and spelling potheen. They 
 will have it that it is Potch-cheen, or some such thing. It is sim- 
 ply the diminutive of pot, and would, indeed, be more correct 
 M-ifehout the medial h, which, however, has gained insertion in 
 consequence of the thick utterance of the people. So squire 
 makes squireen, a poor little squire, as 
 
 " We '11 take it kind if you provide 
 A few squireens." Thomas Moore. 
 
 Devotee, contracted (by aphceresis) to ^votee, becomes \wteen, 
 to signify a little, mean, superstitious worshipper. Buckeen is a 
 
 Davy was the leading, because the most philosophical, chemist of his diiy. 
 Biiinde, who has published the " Elements of Chemistry," was long attach- 
 ed to the London Institution, in Albemarle street, ia which Faraday now fills 
 Uavy's place. — M.
 
 172 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 poor attempt at being a huclx, sucli as you see in Prince's Street, 
 Edinburgh, for instance, &c., &:c. So Potteen corrupted to 
 Potheen, is a little pot ; and thence, by a natural metonomy, 
 signifies the production of that utensil. 
 
 A cui'ious book might be written on mispronunciations. Is 
 there a man in ten who calls Bolivar correctly ? Every one 
 almost is ready to rhyme him as 
 
 Bold Simon Bolivar, 
 
 Match for old Oliver, &c., &c. 
 
 Whereas it should be 
 
 Few can deceive, or 
 Baffle Bolivar.* 
 
 ifttla):im <S>ne Jl^umirflr anti 2Cl)irtj=ti)ira. 
 
 In playing domino, you can not be said to have a good hand 
 vmless you have five of one number, and one of these a double. 
 This well played, with first move, ought in general to win the 
 game. 
 
 IWavim ®nc JlJunOveti antr 2ri)ivti'=fourtI). 
 
 In vino Veritas is an old saying, but scarcely a true one.t 
 Men's minds, Avhen elevated by wine, or anything else, become 
 apt to exaggeration of feeling of every kind, I have often 
 found In vino asperitas to be a much truer dictum. 
 
 irHavim ©nc ?ijuntivcti ano S:f)irti>=fi'ft!) 
 
 Some people tell you that you should not drink claret after 
 
 * Odoherty is wrong in this pronunciation — if Byron be right, as I believe 
 
 he is, in putting the accent on the last syllable. Thus (in the Age of Bronze), 
 
 we have-— 
 
 " While Franklin's quiet memory climbs to heaven, 
 
 Calming the lightning which he thence had riven. 
 
 Or drawing from the no less kindled earth 
 
 Freedom or peace to that which boasts his birth ; 
 
 While Washinglon 's a watchword, such as ne'er 
 
 Sluill sink while there's an echo left to air: 
 
 While even the Spaniard's thirst of gold and war 
 
 Forgets Pizarro to spout Bolivar." — M. 
 + But in Maxim XLII. we find Odoherty saying " that no man ever says or 
 does that brutal thing when drunk, which he would not also say and do when 
 sober, if he dursi.'^ — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 173 
 
 strawberries. They are wrong, if the claret be good. The 
 nulky taste of good claret coheses admirably with the straw- 
 berry — someAvhat like cream. If the claret be bad, it is quite 
 a different affair ; and suspect it, if you find the master of the 
 house anxious not to make the test. George Faulkner of Dub- 
 lin — I was going to say, my friend Faulkner, until I recollected 
 that he was dead some thirty odd years before I was born — 
 Swift's printer, Foote's Peter Paragraph* — who does not know 
 George? — used to sit a whole night with a solitary strawberry 
 at the bottom of his glass, over which he used to pour generally 
 four bottles of claret. I do so, George would say, because a 
 doctor recommended it to him for its cooling qualities. The 
 idea that cold wine should not be drunk er cool fruit is non- 
 sense. If you feel the claret chill you, you will find the remedy 
 in the seventy-fifth maxim of this series.! 
 
 iWavim ©ue Jljuiilii-eti anO Sri)irt»=sij:tf). 
 
 If you be an author, never disturb yourself about little squibs, 
 &c., against you. If you do, you will never be at rest. If you 
 want to annoy the squibber, pretend never to have heard of 
 them. It is only five days ago since I was in company with 
 Rogers and Tom Moore, and no pair could harmonize better. — 
 Yet who does not know Tom's epigram on Sam t Rogers had 
 made him a present of a copy of Paradise Lost, in which there 
 was the very common frontispiece of the devil, in the shape of 
 a serpent, twining round down the tree of knowledge, with the 
 fatal apple in his mouth, which he was in the act of presenting to 
 Eve ; and under it Tom, instigated no doubt by the evil spirit 
 whose picture he was inspecting, wrote — 
 
 * Aldoiman George Faulkner, of Dublin, caricatured in one of Foote's 
 farces as "Peter Paragraph," was printer and editor of the Dublin Jo^irnal. 
 Foote hit off his personal peculiarities so well that all of Faulkner's composi- 
 tors and apprentices having been sent to the theatre to hiss the play and the 
 player, vehemently applauded both. Faulkner, who was present, upbraided 
 them, but was met with the retort, " Ah, /Master, sure you wouldn't have us ^^ 
 hiss your own sweet self, that was on the stage." — M. 
 
 t The remedy is, that "when cold claret begins to chill the stomach, a glass 
 of brandy after every four glasses of claret corrects the frigidity. — M.
 
 174 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " With equal good nature, good grace, and good looks, 
 as the devil gave apples, sam rogers gives books." 
 
 An unkind return, certainly, for civility, The cut at the looks 
 was particularly unfair, as Mr. Rogers is a bachelor ; but he 
 only laughed, as he always does, and the thing passed off like 
 water from a duck's back. 
 
 i^ajrim ©ne JUJunOvcti nnli J!Cl)irti;:=scbentj). 
 
 Never repine on account of that mediocrity of station in 
 which it has pleased Providence to place you. Why should 
 you do so 1 Would you wish to be the King 1 I, for one, 
 should unquestionably consider that situation as a decided bore. 
 What ! submit to have all your motions placarded in the pa- 
 pers 1 low scribes spouting away, pro and con, every time you 
 alter your dress, your house, your ministers, your tipple — any 
 thing, in short? What ! to be surrounded by an eternal retinue 
 of lords and grooms, and God knows all what 1 A shocking 
 state of suffering, indeed, and demanding more than Christian 
 endurance. I would not be king, in any thing like a free coun- 
 tiy, at least, upon any possible terms. If one were a real des- 
 pot, the case might be better, I admit ; for then one could 
 appoint some under-scrub of a viceroy, or lord-lieutenant, or 
 captain-general, or so, to hold the courts, give the grand dinner, 
 sign the death-warrants, ride in state, and all the rest of it, in 
 place of one ; while you enjoyed yourself, as it pleased your 
 fancy, in some central retreat, such as Capreae, or the Happy 
 Valley in Rasselas. But even that is not what I envy. I have 
 no wish to exercise despotic power, and therefore I have no 
 Avish to possess it. Any crown would be to me so much da trop. 
 What is the object of human life 1 to be happy — admitted. In 
 what does happiness consist % In deciding who shall, and v/lio 
 shall not, be hung ? In having a flag on the top of the house ? 
 In talking politics with Canning, Eldon, Liverpool, Metternicb, 
 Hardenberg, Pozzo di Borgo ?* — I despise all such doings. 
 
 * In 1824, Geovge Canning was Foreign Secretary, Lord Eldon wns Lord 
 Chancellor, and Lord Liverpool was Premier of England, Prince Metteriiich 
 and Prince Hardenberg were respectively Prime Ministers of Austria and
 
 MAXIMS OF OD0HKi!TV. 175 
 
 Does a man enjoy his beefsteak, liis bottle of excellent port or 
 claret, his cigar, his flirtation, his any thing you please to think 
 of, a bit the more for being called King, or Duke, or Emperor, 
 or so ? Not one bit. I utterly deny the thing. Were I not 
 Morgan ODoherty, I should like to be Mustapha Abn Selim. 
 
 Pla):im ®ne ?l}unavcU auU STfjirtM-ciQljti). 
 
 I SCARCELY look upou it as much better to be a duke than to 
 be a king. On the contrary, I have often thought it is almost 
 as bad. You are annoyed with the same eternal troop of hang- 
 ers-on, only they are, if possible, of a still more inferior desciip- 
 tion. Your house is not your own, nor your time either ; for the 
 one is always full of humdrum bores, crack-wits, assenting idiots, 
 lions, lionesses, and I know not what trash ; and the other is 
 taken up all the after-part of every day with doing the civil to 
 these creatures ; and all the morning you have cursed letters to 
 write about country gentlemen's sons wanting to be promoted, 
 learned lads wanting livings, dandies that aspire to sit in the 
 Foreign Office, political tracasaeries, farms to let, money to raise, 
 bonds, mortgages, promises to and from Mr. Peel — in short, as 
 I said before, you are never your own man. The late Duke of 
 Norfolk, to be sure, used to dine every day by himself, in one 
 of the boxes of a common coffee-house in Covent-Garden, drink 
 two bottles of port, and then rumble home to St. James's Square 
 in a jarvie.* He did so. — Well, and can't I do the same thing 
 quite as well, without being called "Your Grace" at the end of 
 every pint of wine ? I can, and I know it. Nay, I am of 
 opinion that I can do the same thing more comfortably than the 
 Duke, for I can do it without any human creature taking the 
 slightest notice of what I do. He was not merely the stout 
 gentleman in the gray coat, and I am the tall one in the blue — 
 
 Prussia. Count Pozzo di Boigo was high in the diplomatic service of Rus- 
 sia. — M. 
 
 * This was the man who, from his distaste for water (save when mingled 
 with brandy), was emphatically called "The dirty Duke." He became a 
 Protestant, that he might take his seat in the House of Lords, and was chiefly 
 distinguished for his enormous capacity for eating and drinking, and his excel- 
 lent juJgnicnf, ou wine. — M.
 
 176 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 110, there Avas always some suspicion of his rank floating about, 
 or at least suspected of doing- so — no real sense of the delights 
 of perfect obscurity. In point of fact, such adventitious affairs 
 have no influence whatever on the real sum of human felicity. 
 I remember one day I was walking with my friend Dr. Mullion, 
 and we came in front of Burlington House.* " Mull," says I, 
 " What a noble mansion this is 1 Look at it attentively, my 
 hearty." He fixed his fine gray eye upon the stately pile, and 
 after perusing it with the utmost diligence of admiration for some 
 space, made ansAver, " It is a grand house indeed, man. Hech 
 me, man! Avhat a dinner I could eat in a house like that!" 
 Chewing the cud of this philosophical reflection, we jogged along 
 for a minute or two, till the well-known azure pillars of Cork 
 Streett happened to attract my friend's notice. My mind was 
 still brimfull of the beautiful architecture, stately air, grand out- 
 line, &c. &c. &c. of the patrician mansion which we had just left 
 to lecAvard, when, lo and behold ! the Doctor gives me a little 
 touch on the elbow, just as much as to hint whereabouts we 
 were. " Pooh, pooh !" said I, starting round upon him — " Con- 
 found your blood. Dr. Mullion, Avliat makes you attract my at- 
 tention to this low, shabby, dirty, abominable, piece of plebeian 
 brick-work, ornamented in front with two vile, shapeless wooden 
 posts Avith, with foreheads villanous Ioav, and daubed over Avith 
 a little sky-blue paint ! — pooh, pooh !" — " Weel, aAveel," quoth 
 Mull, " say what you like — but, hech me, man ! AA'hat a dinner 
 I could eat in a house like that !" This did me. 
 
 ifHaFim <BttC ?J:}unDrcn aiiO 2rijatt!=ntuti). 
 
 It was a long Avhile ere I discovered the most convenient 
 method of supporting my drawers. It is a bore to have a sepa- 
 rate pair of braces, and the usual schemes of looping are, all of 
 
 * Burlington House, Piccadilly — the London residence of the Duke of 
 Devonshire. — M. 
 
 t The Blue Posts, in Corlc street, off Bond street, is a respectable hotel, not 
 to be confounded with its namesake in the Hajmurket, nearly opposite the the- 
 atre, which is the resort of loose fish, of both sexes, at all hours of the day 
 and night. — M.
 
 MAXIMS OF ODOHERTY. 177 
 
 tliem, liable to oljectioiis. The true way is, have two small 
 pieces of tape placed liorizontaUy along the waistband of the 
 nether integuments, at those parts of them which correspond to 
 the parts of the upper touched by the extremities of the braces ; 
 have these horizontal tapes, say three inches to each, attached 
 firmly to the substance of the waistband ; and tlien pass the 
 brace under the open part of the tape, before you bring it in con- 
 tact with the button on the breeches. This is one of those in- 
 ventions which will stand the test so long as the present general 
 system of breeches-making is retained ; but that, I freely admit, 
 appears to me to be by no means free from radical defects. The 
 pressure comes too exclusively on particular parts of the shoul- 
 ders. By a row of buttons all round, this evil might be reme- 
 died. That again would involve inconveniences of quite an- 
 other, though perhaps an even more distressing order. On the 
 whole, this is a matter which modern artists have too much neg 
 lected ; and I hereby promise, by means of a separate and dis- 
 tinct Maxim, to make not only the fame, but the fortune, of the 
 man who, within six months from this date, satisfies me that he 
 has paid proper attention to the hint now conveyed, 
 
 iflXafim ®nc ?!IuntirrlJ ano jFovtictf). 
 
 No young lady should ever go to a masquerade in any dress 
 associated in the minds of mankind with the habits of an inferior 
 order of society. Put you on the dress of a pretty Abigail, and the 
 devil is in it, if there be no gay lad ready enough to treat you 
 as he would treat a pretty Abigail. The same objection applies 
 to the whole race of milk-maids, hay-makers, nuns, &c. &c. 
 Every one thinks it fair to be a little particular in his attentions 
 to beings of these orders. So, if you go after the publication of 
 tills Maxim, we shall all know what you are expecting. 
 
 iEapim ®ne |!JunUvcti antr jJ'orti)=fii;st. 
 
 Instead of a Maxim there ought to be a volume, ay, a 
 quarto, upon the order to be observed in the wines handed 
 round during dinner I have long ago mentioned, that I disap- 
 
 8*
 
 178 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 prove, on general and pliilosopliical principles, of a great mix- 
 ture of wines daring the repast ; but this was said with an eye 
 to those, on the one side, who, unlike myself, are of a delicate 
 stomachic organization, and to those, on the other, Avho, like 
 myself intend to take a proper dose after dinner is down. The 
 man who has the stomach, or the man who intends to exemplify 
 the sobriety, of a horse, may mix wines to a very considerable 
 extent; nay, in fact, ought to do so. The rule is this : Begin 
 with the wines of the most delicate aroma and flavour, and ter- 
 minate with those of a more decided character. Let the biir- 
 gundies come immediately after the soup, then the champagnes, 
 the hocks last. Burgundy, after any thing sweet has touched 
 the mouth, is not worth drinking. After champagne, and still 
 more after hock, it is quite insipid. Attend to this carefully, for 
 I often see things grievously misplaced. 
 
 ift3a):iin ®ne ?Quntivctr anU jFovti)=seconti. 
 
 The preceding Maxim Avill probably give rise to much and 
 anxious discussion. To narrow the field, therefore, I take this 
 opportunity of declaring, that there are two liquids which may 
 be eternally varied in their application during dinner, with which 
 you may begin and end, and which you may intersperse, ad lib- 
 itum, whenever you like, and whatever you have been eating 
 and drinking. These t\vo gifts are sherry and cold rum-punch. 
 With regard to them you never can go wrong. They can no 
 more be out of place in a dinner, than a fine tree in a landscape, 
 or a fine woman in a boudoir.* 
 
 * It was Maginn's intention to have continued these Maxims, the republica- 
 tion of wliich, in book form, he was fond of anticii^ating. But he never got 
 beyond these three Parts. His "Maxims to Marry by," (pp. 3G3 — 374) in 
 tin's volume, may be taken as a continuation. — M.
 
 DON JUAN UNREAL*. 
 
 179 
 
 lllon Inan Unreal. 
 
 YARROW UNVISITED. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 From Stirling- Castle we had seen 
 The mazj' Forth uiiravell'd; 
 Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tuy, 
 And with the Tweed had travelled ; 
 And, when we came to Clovenford, 
 Then snid my " winsome Marrow," 
 " What'er betide, we'll turn aside 
 And see the Braes of Yarrow." 
 
 " Let Yarrow Folk,/)rte Selkirk Town, 
 Who have been buying-, selling. 
 Go bade to Yarrow, 'tis their own, 
 Each Maiden to her Dwelling! 
 On Yarrow's banks let herons feed. 
 Hares couch, and rabbits burrow! 
 But we will downwards wiili the Tweed, 
 Nor turn aside to Yarrow. 
 
 DON JUAN ITNRf:AD.* 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 Of Corinth Castle we had read 
 
 The amazing Siege unravelled, 
 Had swallowed Lara and the Giaour, 
 
 And with Childe Harold travelled; 
 And so we followed clovcn-foott 
 
 As faithfully as any. 
 Until he cried, " Come, turn aside 
 
 And read of Don ^Giovanni." 
 
 " Lot Whiggish folk, frae Holland 
 House, 
 
 Who have been lying, prating. 
 Read Don Giovanni, 'tis their own, 
 
 A child of their creating! 
 On jests profane they love to feed, 
 
 And there they are — and many; 
 But we, who link not with the crew, 
 
 Recanl not Don Giovanni. 
 
 * Tliis, one of the earliest of Maginn's contributions to Blackwood, appeared 
 in November, 1819, together with the translation, into English verse, of the 
 first filtc of Chevy Cliase — the ballad which. Sir Philip Sydney said, "stirs 
 the heart like a trumpet.'" It was thus prefaced: — "Mi. Editor, I composed 
 tlie following poem on Tuesday night last, lietween the hours of eleven and 
 twelve o'clock, during a sound sleep, into which I had fallen while in the act 
 of attempting to peruse Constable's Magaziiie. While I slept I was busily em- 
 ployed in versifying, and should, I am sure, have composed much more, but 
 that I unfortunately threw the Magazine off the tiible upon my foot, which in- 
 stantly awaked me. A half-hundred could not have descended with more 
 weight, a circumstance which proves how very heavy the articles contained in 
 that work must be ; and I feel the effects of it yet. I send my lines merely as 
 a psychological curiosity like Kubla Khan. It is a remarkable fact, that a 
 poem of Mr. Wordsworth's, ' Yarroiu Unvisifed,' bears a resemblance to this 
 of mine; how to account for this coincidence I know not." — In the first col- 
 lective edition of Byron's Works, (17 vols., published by Murray, of London,) 
 " Don Juan Unread" was quoted, as Maginn's, among the " Testimonies of 
 Authors." The first Cantos of " Don Juan" were published in July, 1819. — M. 
 
 t A recollection of the usual accoutrements of the prince of the air, to whose 
 service th<^ poem of Don Juan is devoted, will account for this epithet being 
 applied to its autlior. — W. Maginn. 
 
 \ Italice for Juan, which is Hispanice for John. — W. M.
 
 180 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " There's Gala Water, Leader Haiighs, 
 
 Botli lying right before us; 
 
 Aiid Dryborough, where with chiming 
 
 Tweed 
 The Lintwhites sing in chorus; 
 Ther(!'s pleasant Tiviot Dale, a land 
 Made blithe with plough and harrow; 
 Why throw away a needful day 
 To go in search of YaiTOW ? 
 
 " What's Yarrow but a River bare 
 That glides the dark hills under? 
 There are a thousand such elsewhere 
 As worthy of your wonder." 
 — Strange words they seem'd of slight 
 
 and scorn ; 
 My true-love sigh'd for sorrow ; 
 And look'd me in the face, to think 
 I thus could speak of Yarrow ! 
 
 "Oh! green," said I, " are Yarrow's 
 
 Holms, 
 And sweet is yan'ow flowing ! 
 Fair hangs the ap]ile frae the rock. 
 But we will leave it growing. 
 O'er hilly path, and open Strath, 
 
 " There's Godwin's daughter, Shelley's 
 wife,* 
 
 A writing fearful stories; 
 There's Hazljtt, who, with Hunt and 
 Keats 
 
 Brays forth in Cockney chorus; 
 There's pleasant Thomas Moore, a lad 
 
 Who sings of Rose and Fanny ;t 
 Why throw away these wits so gay 
 
 To take up Don Giovanni. 
 
 " What's Juan but a shameless tale, 
 
 That bursts all rules asunder? 
 There are a thousand such elsewhere 
 
 As worthy of your wonder." 
 Strange words they seem'd of slight 
 and scorn ; 
 
 His lordship look'd not canny ;X 
 And took a pinch of snuif, to think 
 
 I flouted Don Giovanni. 
 
 " ! rich," said I, " nre .Turin's rhymes, 
 And warm its verse is flowing! 
 
 Fair crops of Blasphemy it bears. 
 But we will leave them growing. 
 
 In Pindar'sll strain, in prose of Paine, 
 
 * JMrs. Shelley, wife of the poet, was daughter of William Godwin, (author 
 of " Political Justice," and several novels, of which " Caleb Williams" and 
 " St. Leon" are best remembered,) and the no less celebrated Mary Wolslon- 
 croft, his wife, who wrote a "Vindication of the Rights of Woman." Mrs. 
 Shelley was born in 1797, and died in 1851. The "fearful story" above allu- 
 ded to was " Franlvenstein," published in 1817. Among other works of hers is 
 her "Lives of Eminent Literary Frenchmen," in Lardner^s Cydopoedia. She 
 edited, with notes, her husband's poems. — M. 
 
 t " Come, tell me, says Rosa, as kissing and kissed," &c. and " Sweet Fanny 
 of Timmol," with many other equally edifying little pieces. — W. ]\L [These 
 lyrics, which are cei'tainly not the most modest chansons, in the world, have been 
 omitted in the collection of Moore's works edited by himself — M.] 
 
 t Scottice for — I do not exactly know what — but it signifies something 
 pleasant, comfortable, knowing, snug, or the like. — W. M. 
 
 II Peter, to wit. — W. M. [Dr. John Wolcott, who satirized George III. and 
 others, under the Tiom de plwne of" Peter Pindar," was born in 1738 and died 
 in 1819. The temporary and personal nature of his subjects has deprived his
 
 DON JUAN UNREAD. 
 
 181 
 
 Wi''ll wander Scotland tliorough ; And many anotiier Zanny, 
 
 But, tlinugli so near, we will not turn As fiross, we read, so wlierc's llin need, 
 
 Into the Dale of Yarrow. To wade tlirough Don Giovanni. 
 
 " Let Beeves and homc-brod Kinc par- 
 take 
 The sweets of Burn-mill meadow ; 
 The Swan on still St. Mary's Lake 
 Float double. Swan and Shadow ! 
 We will not see them ; will not go, 
 To-day, nor yet to-morrow : 
 Enough if in our hearts we know. 
 There's such a place as Yarrow. 
 
 " Be Yarrow Stream unseen, unknown ! 
 It must, or we shall rue it : 
 We have a vision of our own ; 
 Ah ! why should we undo it? 
 The treasured dreams of times long past 
 We'll keep them, winsome Marrt>w ! 
 For when we're there, although 'tis fair 
 'Twill be another Yarrow ! 
 
 "If Care with freezing years should 
 
 come. 
 And wandering seem but follv, 
 
 "Let Colburn's town-bred cattle snuff 
 
 The filths of Lady Morgan,* 
 Lot Maturin to amorous themes 
 
 Attune his barrel organ !t 
 We will not read them, will not hear 
 
 The parson or the granny ;t 
 And, I dare say, as bad as they, 
 
 Or worse, is Don Giovanni. 
 
 " Be Juan then unseen, unknown ! 
 
 It must, or we may rue it; 
 We may have virtue of our own ; 
 
 Ah ! why should we undo it ? 
 The treasured faith of days long past. 
 
 We still shall prize o'er any ; 
 And we shall grieve to hear the gibes 
 
 Of scoffing Don Giovanni. 
 
 " When Whigs with freezing rule shall 
 come, II 
 And piety seem folly ; 
 
 writings of much of their interest, but their peculiar humour and racy freshness 
 liave scarcely ever been equalled. — M. 
 
 * In the day when these stanzas were written, it was the Tory policy person- 
 ally to a.^sail all writers of Whig politics. Lady Morgan, who avowed very 
 liberal opinions, was the frequent object of attack in Blackivood and the Qiiar- 
 lerly Revieto : — as a woman, and therefore comparatively defenceless, the Tory 
 wits and libellers safely assailed her. — ^I. 
 
 t The Rev. R. C. Maturin, who was compelled to publish plnys, sermons, 
 poetry, and novels, to assist the very narrow income he derived from the 
 Church, in which he had a Dublin curacy — had rendered himself somewhat 
 liable to the reproach above-written, by the somewhat too vivid colouring of 
 some scenes in his romance of" Melmoth the Wanderer." — M. 
 
 X Vulgariter for grandmother, not that I mean to assert that Lady M. is a 
 grandmother, but to insinuate, tlmt as she is old enough to be one, she has a 
 fair claim to the title. — iM. [A mistake. Lady Morgan was not 45 yeai-s old 
 in 1819. — M.] 
 
 II Tlie Whigs did come in, and Tories tvent out, in 1830, and have continued 
 in office twenty years out of the twenty-five since that date. — M.
 
 182 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Should we be loth to stir from homo, Wlicii Cam and Isis* curbed In- Brough- 
 Aiid yet be melancholy ; am, 
 
 Should life be dull, and spirits low. Shall wander melancholy ; 
 
 'Twill soothe us in our sorrow When Cobb(^t,VVooler, Watson, Hunt,t 
 
 Tliat earth has somelhing yet to show. And all the swinish many, 
 
 The bonny Holms of YaiTow'" Shall rough-shod ride^ o'er church and 
 
 state. 
 Then hey! for Don Giovanni." 
 
 * Rivers, on the banks of which certain Universities much indebted to the 
 learned jurisconsult mentioned in the text for his kind attention to their inter- 
 ests, are seated. — W. M. [Brougham, contrary to the poet's anticipation, did 
 "curb" Cambndge and Oxfoid, from 1830 to 1834 — his jiosilion, as Lord 
 Chancellor of England, giving him ex officio authority over these Universi- 
 ties. —M.] 
 
 t Of the four worthies named here, notable liberals at this period, Cobbett 
 and Hunt eventually became members of Parliament. Dr. Watson, accused 
 of sedition, and suspected of treason, found safety in retreat to the United 
 States; Wooler, a very able man, editor of "The Yellow Dwarf," a Radical 
 Journal, outlived Maginn many years, but died obscurely. — M. 
 
 X " We shall ride roughshod over Carlton House." — Speech of all the tal- 
 ents through the mouth-piece of Lord , on hearing of the assassination 
 
 of Mr Percival. — W. M. [The Whigs, who came into office in 1806, headed 
 by Fox, were on such good terms with themselves that "All the Talents" was their 
 own self-assumed sobriquet. In May, 1812, on Percival's death, the Marquis 
 Wellcsley was empowered to ask the Whig leaders (Lords Grey and Gren- 
 \illi>) to form a Government. The Prince Regent, who desired to retain his 
 household, (the heads of which were his personal friends,) was disgusted with 
 Lord Grey's haughty intimation that, as a preliminary, all its members must 
 resign, and his Lordship's boast in private that "he vi'ould ride roughsiiod 
 through Carlton House." This caused the Prince to place Lord Liverpool 
 and the Tories in office, which the Whigs did not obtain until Novcniber, 
 1830. — M.]
 
 THE IRISHMAN AND THE LADY, 
 
 183 
 
 2[l)c Jnsljman axib tl)c ta^^. 
 
 ( To be sung icilh boisterous expression.) 
 
 There was a la - dy lived at Leith, a la - dy ve - ry sty-lish, man, And 
 
 0~^-'- 
 
 :?==?= 
 
 -1 b 
 
 
 yet, in. spite of all her teeth, she fell in love with an I - rish-man, A 
 Chorus — Christopher ! 
 
 tear - Lng, swearing, thumping, bumping, ramping, roaring I - rishman. 
 
 There was a lady lived at Lcith, 
 
 A lady vory stylish, man ; 
 And yet, in spite of all her teeth, 
 She fell in love with an Irishman. 
 A nasty, ugly Irishman, 
 A wild, tremendous Irishman — 
 A tearing, swearing, thumping, bumping, ramping, roaiing Irishman. 
 
 His face w;is no ways beautiful. 
 
 For with small-pox 'twas scarr'd across ; 
 And the shoulders of the ugly dog 
 Were almost doubled a yard across. 
 0, the lump of an Irishman, 
 The whisky-devouring Irishman — 
 The great he-rogue, with his wonderful brogue, tlie fighting, rioting, Irishmnn. 
 
 One of his eyes was bottle-green. 
 
 And the other eye was out, my dear; 
 
 And the calves of his wicked-looking legs 
 Were more than two feet aliout, my dear,
 
 18-4 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 0, the g:ieal hig Tiishmiin, 
 The rattling, liattling Inshman — 
 The stamping, ramping, swaggering, staggering, leathering swash of an Irishman. 
 
 He took so much of Lundy-Font, 
 
 That he used to snort and snuffle — O ; 
 And in shape and size, the fellow's neck, 
 Was as had as the neck of a buffalo. 
 O, the horrible Irishman, 
 The thundering, blundeiing Irishman — 
 The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, thrashing, hashing Irishman. 
 
 His name was a terrible name, indeed, 
 
 Being Timothy Thady iMuIligan ; 
 And whenever he emptied his tumbler of punch, 
 He'd not rest till he filled it full again. 
 
 The boozing, bruising Irishman, 
 The 'toxicated Irishman — 
 fhe whisky, frisky, rummy, gummy, brandy, no dandy Irishman. 
 
 This was the lad the lady loved. 
 Like all the girls of quality ; 
 And he broke the skulls of the men of Leith, 
 Just by the way of jollity. 
 
 O, the leathering Irishman, 
 The barbarous, savage Irishman — 
 The hearts of the maids, and the gentlemen's heads, were bother'd, I'm sure, 
 by tliis Irishman.* 
 
 * This song was introduced by Odoherty, (to be sung with boisterous expres- 
 sion,) in the first of the Noctks Ambrosianji;, (March, 1822,) and is to be 
 found, set to music, in Vol. I, page 153, of the collective edition of that work, 
 publisbed by Redfield, and annotated by myself. — M.
 
 HERE LET ME DINE. 185 
 
 §cxc £et me Hine. 
 
 'Tis not when on tiutle and venison dining, 
 
 And sipping Tokay at the cost of his Grace ; 
 Like the plate on his sideboard, I'm sot to be shining — 
 
 (So nearly a mug may resemble a face.) 
 Tliis is not the dinner for me — a poor sinner; 
 
 Where I'm bound to show off, and throw pearls before swine. 
 Give me turnips and mutton, — (I ne'er was a glutton) — 
 
 Good friends and good liquor — and here let me dine. 
 
 Your critic shows off, with his snatches and tastes 
 
 Of odd trash from Reviews, and odd sorts of odd wine ; 
 Half a glass — half a joke — from the Publisher's stock 
 
 Of Balaam and Hock, are but trash, I opine. 
 _Conversnzioni — are not for my money, 
 
 Where Blue Stockings prate about Wylie and Pen;* 
 I'd rather get tipsy with ipsissimi ipsi — 
 
 Plain women must yield to plain sense and plain men. 
 
 Your dowager gives you good dinners, 'tis true ; 
 
 She shines in liqueurs, and her Sherry's antique ; 
 But then you must swear by her eye's lovely blue, 
 
 And adore the bright blocm that is laid on her cheek. 
 Blue eyes in young faces are quite in their places; 
 
 One praises and gazes with boundless delight 
 And juvenile roses ne'er trespass on noses, 
 
 As the (custom of those is, I've cut for to-night. 
 
 Your colonels talk but of a siege or a battle — 
 
 Your merchants of naught but the course of exchange-^ 
 Your squires, of their hounds, of the corn-bill or cattle — 
 
 Your doctors their cases and cures will arrange — 
 Your lawyer's confounding, on multiple poinding — 
 
 Your artists are great on expression and tone — 
 Parsons sjtoit Moderators and Church-procurators, 
 
 Each set is the devil when feeding alone. 
 
 But here, where all sots and all topics are mingled — 
 The hero — the dentist — the parson — the squire — 
 
 No one branch of blarney's selected or singled, — 
 But our wine and our wit each discussion inspire; 
 
 * Popular novels of that period — viz, ''Sir Andrew ^Vylie" by Gait, and 
 Pen. Owen" by Hook, cousin of Theodore's. — M.
 
 186 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Wlipi'fi the pun and the ghiss simultanpously jwss; 
 
 Where each song: seems quite heavenly, eiu-h i)umper divine; 
 Where there's drinking and smoking-, and quizzing and joking, 
 
 But nothing provoking — Here ! Here ! let me dine.* 
 
 I. Every one knows that in Burns' song wliicli begins, 
 
 " Is there for lioncst poverty?" 
 
 the bard indulgecl in a levelling strain of sentiments, which some 
 of his readers have bhamed ; yet one of the most forcible stanzas 
 might have been borrowed (if Burns had ever borrowed) from a 
 person who was not likely to have encouraged levelling princi- 
 ples, or to have underrated the authority of the jirinces of the 
 earth. I mean King Lewis the XIV. of haughty and magnifi- 
 cout memory. 
 Burns says, 
 
 "A king may mak a helted knight, 
 
 A marquis, duke, and a' that; 
 But an honest man's aboo his might, 
 
 Gude faith he maunna fa' that." 
 
 Freron tells us, that Lewis walking one day in the garden of 
 Versailles, with all his nobles around him uncovered, directed 
 Mansard, an able architect and amiable man, who was, it seems, 
 unwell, to put on his hat — the courtiers looked astonished at so 
 gi-eat a condescension, but the monarch rebuked them by say- 
 ing, " Gentlemen, I can make as many dukes as I please, but 
 I never could make a man like Mansard." Freron, vol. ix p. 36. | 
 
 II. The Jesuits of Dole had two fine convents and estates, 
 the one called L'Arc (the bow) in Lorrain, and La Fleche (the 
 
 * This song ajipeared in "The Noctks," for May, 1822. — 1V1. 
 
 t These Ana appeared in Blackwood in 1819, and are presented here not so 
 much for their intrinsic merit (though they jue curious, and show how discur- 
 sive Maginn's reading had been) but because they ai-e among the very first of 
 the Doctor's contributions. — M. 
 
 t Henry VHI. of England, had previously applied the same words to Hans 
 Kolbein, the painter. — M.
 
 ANA. 187 
 
 arrow) in Anjon ; wlien the latter was given them by Ileiuy 
 the IV. the following distich appeared, 
 
 Arcitm dola di'dit, rlcdit illis alma Sagittam 
 Fraiicia, quis choiduni, quem mciuere, dabit? 
 
 HowelVs Fam. Epist. 
 Dole gave these monks the bow — a shaft, the king; 
 But who will give, what they deserve, a string! 
 
 The anagram is pleasant ; but, it seems, the Jesuits know 
 how to have two strings to tJicir how. 
 
 III. Pope exposes, in admirable poetry, the idle vanity of 
 those whose 
 
 -ancient, but ignoble blood. 
 
 Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood. 
 
 But I never have met this folly more strikingly exemplified than 
 in an account of i\\Q family of Rosencrantz, in Hofman's His- 
 torical Portraits of the Worthies of Denmark. " This family, 
 through a long train of descents of persons filling the highest 
 offices, offers few events worthy of attention, except that one 
 nobleman of this name was executed for forging, and another 
 banished for a libel." 
 
 IV. A Curious Trial hi/ Jury. — Christiern the II. had a mis- 
 tress named Dy vele, with whom he suspected one of his nobles, 
 named Forben Oxe, to have been too familiar. She, however, 
 died, and after her death the king asked Oxe to tell him sin- 
 cerely if his suspicions were well founded. I own, said Oxe, I 
 tried, but never could succeed w^ith her. The furious king or- 
 dered Oxe to be tried for this intended crime before the senate 
 — he was, of course, acquitted; if, said the enraged and disap- 
 pointed tyrant, his neck were as thick as an ox's, I would have 
 his head. He called, therefore, together twelve peasants, and 
 forming a square with four spears, into which they entered, (an 
 odd jury box,) he forbade them to separate till they should have 
 agreed to their verdict upon Oxe. The peasants, perplexed 
 what to do, returned a special verdict which would have done 
 no discredit to a jury of Jesuits — "We can not try him," said 
 they, " when his own confessions have already condemned him." 
 This was enough for Christiern, and poor Oxe did lose his head 
 accordingly. — Frer. ix. 54.
 
 188 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Y. That niadman Eousseau wrote to a farce called Narcissus 
 a preface as full of the most absurd self-love, as the story of 
 Narcissus itself — But Ovid painted his maniac with a soft and 
 harmonious pencil ; Rousseau's portrait of himself is in the style 
 of Spagnoletto — Amongst other fine sentiments which he means 
 for philosophy, he says, " In laboring to acquire ?»?/ own esteem 
 (it does not seem to have required much labor) I have learned 
 to do ver}^ well without the esteem of others." Thus the clear 
 and Christian duty of satisfying, in the first place, one's own 
 conscience is parodied by Rousseau into an expression of that 
 morbid vanity which can extract internal satisfaction from the 
 disapprobation of all mankind. 
 
 VI. The character of Louis XVIII. has been so long obscured, 
 formerly by his exile, and latterly by the eclipsing glory of the 
 Sieur Caze,* his favorite, that one must look thirty years back 
 to find any traces of his real disposition, which is the more ma- 
 terial, under present circumstances, inasmuch as it has given 
 rise to the reproach so commonly thrown out against the Ultras 
 of France, that they are " mo?-e Royalist than the King." A 
 little examination into the early history of the revolution will 
 show that it was hardly possible to be less Royalist than Louis 
 XVIII. was in those days of trial. We can not suspect that he 
 was paralyzed by the same vile and odious motives which ex- 
 cited the activity of Philip Egalite ; but undoubtedly the cir- 
 cumstance m which he stood, of being the second in succession 
 to the croicn, and the first in succession to the regency, ought, 
 as a matter of mere good taste, to have made his affection tow- 
 ards his unhappy and persecuted brother a little more prominent. 
 It was surely a singular and unlucky coincidence, tliat he should 
 be, of all his family after the Dauphin, the nearest to the throne 
 and after Egalite, the dearest to the Jacobins. It is true that 
 this disgraceful popularity was softened down by the very qual- 
 ities which perhaps contributed to create it. His manners were 
 low ; his tastes were rather worse than his manners, and what- 
 
 * M. Decazes, who succeeded Fouchc (in September, 1815), as Minister of 
 Police, is the person indicated here. He was personally a great favorite with 
 Louis XVllL, not only because of his strong Royalist predilections, but on ac- 
 count of his elegant manners. Eventually he became Premier. — M.
 
 ANA. 189 
 
 ever abilities he may have possessed, were so Luriecl under the 
 sensuality and selfishness of his mode of life, that they gave 
 neither hopes nor fears to the discontented nor to the loyal. 
 Observe, we speak of thirty years ago. It is to be hoped, and 
 indeed there is reason to believe, that these thirty years of ad- 
 versity (if the king considered that to be adversity during Avhich 
 he never wanted tAvo courses) may have in some degree improved 
 the personal character of this prince. But it is surely not too 
 much to say, that somewhat of his original and natural indolence 
 and selfishness is likely still to adhere to him, and to render him 
 as indifferent to what may be the state of France luider his 
 younger brother, as he was to what Avas the state of France 
 under his elder brother. In 1789, a patriotic wit attributes to 
 each of the royal family a song, the first line of which is sup- 
 posed to be characteristic. The Count D'Artois* sings, 
 
 " I am II soldier and a gentleman ;" 
 
 but the Comte de Provence (Louis XVIII.) only mutters, 
 
 " I am no king ; and what is worse, no prince." 
 
 Again — in another jeu d^ esprit, also from a patriot pen, where 
 characteristic residences in the different streets of Paris are as- 
 signed to the royal family, Egalite is lodged in the Rue de Louis 
 le Grand ; the Count D'Artois (whose devotion to his brother 
 was so honorable that even his enemies respected it) is placed 
 in the Place Royale, while Monsieur (Louis XVIII.) is trundled 
 into the Rue des Francs Boitrgeois — a street, says St. Foix, 
 which has its name from being inhabited by the lowest and 
 the meanest of the people. These not unimportant trifles are 
 to be found in the Mc7noires pour servir a VHistoire de 1789, pp. 
 30 and 116. But this, you will perhaps say, is the malice of 
 the Jacobins. Not altogether, for the Jacobins detested M. 
 D'Artois ; yet, as we see, did him some kind of justice ; and Avhy 
 should we take it for granted that they did not also do justice 
 to M. de Provence ? But let us see what the Royalists thought 
 of him. In the 15th volume of the Antes des Apotres, p. 128, 
 there is one of those satirical songs called by the French NoeJs : 
 the verse in which Louis XVIII. is described, may be quoted 
 * Afterward the unfortunate Charles the Tenth. — jM.
 
 190 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 as an adclitional proof of what tlie public opinion even of the 
 Royalists of 1790, Avas with regard to him : — 
 
 Grand ami du silftice, 
 
 Du bon vin, dn repos. 
 
 Le Comte de Provence 
 
 Balliutia ces mots ; 
 " Soiiffrez que promptement clipz moi je me retire, 
 
 " Je crains trop de I'embarras; 
 
 " Mon frtre est dans un vilain pas, 
 " Mais, hclas ! qii'il s^en iire.^' 
 
 which nfiay be thus imitated: — 
 
 Very active at clearing Ijis plate. 
 
 Very clever atdiolding his tong-ue ; 
 In size he is Louis the great, 
 
 And thus he half hiccupp'd half sung: 
 " Permit me to make my escape, 
 
 " I'm a poor, inoffensive good man ; 
 
 " My bi'other, who's in a d d scrape, 
 
 " Must get out o't as well as he can." 
 
 We think one may now safely say, that it is no very great 
 crime in the French Royalists to be more Royalist than Louis 
 
 XVIIIth, who seeing his brother, his king, "?"?» a d d scrafe^^ 
 
 is represented as leaving him " to get out of it as well as he 
 could J'
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 191 
 
 CI)CtJ2 Cl)asc; ^ |)ocm— Ibem Catine iUcbbitum.* 
 
 Being of Sir Philip Sidney's opinion, that the ballad of Chevy 
 Chase stirs the heart like the sound of a trumpet, and being 
 moreover willing that other nations should have at least some 
 idea of that magnificent poem, I have translated it into the uni- 
 versal language of Europe — Latin; and I send you my trans- 
 lation of the first fytte ; — you will perceive that I have retained 
 the measure and structure of the verse most religiously — I wish 
 I could say that I have preserved also the fire and spirit of the 
 original. Bold, at the desire of Bishop Compton, translated into 
 Latin the more modern ballad of Chevy Chase — as also did 
 Anketeil, a Presbyterian Clergyman (I believe) in the north of 
 Ireland. Lord Woodhouselee, in his excellent Essay on Trans- 
 lation, has quoted the first verse of Anketeil's translation appa- 
 rently without knowing the author. But to say nothing of the 
 inferiority of the poem they translated, I flatter myself that I 
 out-top them by the head and broad shoulders, in the superior 
 richness and melody of my double rhymes. Print this, then, by 
 all means — so no more from your servant at command. — 0. P. 
 
 First Fytte. Pars Prima. 
 
 1. 1. 
 
 The Percy out of N(irthumbci-lan(l,t Perseus ex Northmnbria 
 
 And a vow to God made lie, Vovebat, Diis iratis, 
 
 That he would hunt in the mountaing Venare inter dies tres 
 
 Of Cheviot within days three. In montibus Chcviatis, 
 
 In the mauger of doughty Douglas, Cuntemtis forti Douglaso 
 And all that with him be. Et omnibus cognatis. 
 
 * This first fytte of " Chevy Chase," the earliest contribution of any moment 
 by Maginn to Blackwood, appeared in the number for November, 1819. It 
 was signed O. P. — which Mr. Blackwood subsequently extended into "Dr. 
 Olinthus Petre, Trinity College, Dublin." It was under this signature that 
 Maginn severely attacked the late Sir .John Leslie, (Professor of Natural Phi- 
 losophy in Edinburgh University,) accusing him, among other things, of abusing 
 the Hebrew language without even knowing its alphabet ! Leslie brought a 
 libel-suit against Blackwood for this, and obtained — a farthing damages, which 
 was, in fact, a defrat. — M. 
 
 t I have modernized the spelling of the oitl ballad. — W. M.
 
 192 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 2. 
 The fattest linrts in Cheviot 
 
 He said he'd kill and cany awny : 
 " By my faith,'" said doughty Douglas, 
 
 " I'll let*" that hunting if I may." 
 
 3. 
 
 The Percy out of Bamborough came. 
 With him a mighty meany ; 
 
 With fifteen hundred archers bold; 
 They were chosen out of shires three. 
 
 4. 
 This began on Monday at morn. 
 
 In Cheviot the hills so high ; 
 The child may rue that is unborn; 
 
 It is the more pity ! 
 
 5. 
 
 The drivers through the woods went. 
 
 For to raise up the deer; 
 Bowmen bickered upon the bent, 
 
 With their broad arrows clear. 
 
 6. 
 
 Then tlie wild through the woods went. 
 
 On every side sheer; 
 Grayhounds through the groves glent, 
 
 For to kill their deer. 
 
 " Optimos cervos ibi," ait, 
 
 " Occisos reportabo ;" 
 " Per Jovem," inquit Douglasus, 
 
 Venalum hunc vetabo." 
 
 3. 
 
 Ex Bamboro Persseus it. 
 
 Cum agmine potenti ; 
 Nam tribus agris lecti sunt 
 
 Sagittarii ter quingenti. 
 
 4. 
 Ad Cheviatos graditur. 
 
 In Lunm die mane ; 
 Puer nondum natiis fleret hoc; 
 
 Quod est dolendum sane ! 
 
 Viri, qui cervos agerent. 
 Per nemora pergebant ; 
 
 Dum sagittarii spiculas 
 Ex arcubus fundebant. 
 
 6. 
 
 Tum diffugenintt penitus 
 Per omnem sylvam ferae; 
 
 Et eas canes Gallici 
 Sequentes percurrere. 
 
 This began in Cheviot the hills above, 
 
 Early on a Monday; 
 By that it drew to the hour of noon, 
 
 A hundred fat harts dead there lay. 
 
 Hunc matutino tempore 
 Venatum sic caeperunt ; 
 
 Et centum sub meridiem 
 Pingues cervi ceciderunt. 
 
 They blew a moit upon the bent ; 
 
 They 'sembled on sides sheer: 
 To the quarry then the Percy went, 
 
 To see the brittling of the deer. 
 
 9. 
 
 He said — "It was the Douglas' promise. 
 This day to meet me here, 
 
 TuiTi tubas taratantarat 
 Convocat dissipatos; 
 
 Comes Persseus visum it 
 Cervos dilaniatos. 
 
 Dicens, " Promisit Douglasus 
 Mi hie occursum ire, 
 
 * Let: — to hinder. — M. 
 
 t Percy's translation of sheer. — W M. 
 
 X So Euniiis. At tuba terribili sonitu taratanlara tlixit. — W. M.
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 
 
 193 
 
 But 1 wist he would fail verament," 
 A great oath the Percy sware. 
 
 10. 
 
 At last a squire of Northumbcrlaiul 
 Looked nt his hand full nigli — 
 
 He was ware of the Douglas comiiig, 
 With him a mighty meany ; 
 
 11. 
 
 Both with spear, bill, and brand, 
 It was a mighty sight to .see ; 
 
 Hardier men of heart and hand 
 Were not in Christianity. 
 
 12. 
 They were twenty hundred spearmen good. 
 
 Withouten any fail ; 
 They were born along by the water of 
 Tweed, 
 In the bounds of Tividale. 
 
 13. 
 
 " Leave off the brittling of the deer," 
 he said, 
 " And to your bows take heed ; 
 For never since you were on your moth- 
 ers born 
 Had ye such mcikle need." 
 
 14. 
 
 The doughty Douglas on a steed 
 
 He rode his men beforne ; 
 His armour glittered as did a glede — 
 
 A bolder bairn was never born. 
 
 15. 
 
 " Tell me what men ye are," he says, 
 
 " Or whose men that ye be ; 
 Who gave ye leave to hunt in this 
 • Cheviot Chase in the sj)ite of mi? ?" 
 
 16. 
 
 The first man that an answer made, 
 It was the Lord Percy — 
 
 Sed* scivi quod non faceret." 
 His dictis jurat mir6. 
 
 10. 
 Tandem anniger Northumbriae 
 
 Aspexit venientem 
 Prope ad manum Douglasum, 
 
 Et agmina ducentem. 
 
 11. 
 
 Cum hastis, pilis, cnsibus, 
 
 Magnilici iverunt ; 
 Fortiorcs in fidelibus 
 
 Domini non fuerunt. 
 
 12. 
 
 Bis mille procul dubio 
 
 Hastati bnnas notse, 
 Ad aquas Tuedje iiati sunt, 
 
 In finibus Tiviotse. 
 
 13. 
 
 " Mittite cervos, sumite, 
 Sagitlas nulla mora. ; 
 
 Nunquam tarn opus fuit, ex 
 Nostra nalali bora." 
 
 14. 
 
 In prime fortis Douglasus 
 
 Equitans veniebat ; 
 Lorica pruna» similis 
 
 Ardenti resplendebat. 
 
 15. 
 
 Et, " Quinam estis, cedo," ait, 
 " Aut cujus viri sitis? 
 
 Quis misit vos venatum hie. 
 Nobis admodum invitis ?" 
 
 16. 
 
 Persteus autem Douglaso 
 Respondit longe primus. 
 
 * Consult the Edinburgh Reviewer of Falconer's Strabo for this construction 
 of scio quod — the "paltry" dog will remember something about it, as sure as 
 my name is not Copplestone. — W. M. 
 
 Vol. I. — 9
 
 194 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " Wo will not toll what men we are, 
 
 Nor whose men that we be ; 
 But we will hunt here in this chase. 
 
 In the spite of thine and thee. 
 
 17. 
 " The fattest harts in Cheviot 
 
 We have killed, and cast to cany 
 away." 
 " By my troth," said the doughty Doug- 
 las, 
 Therefore the one of us shall die this 
 day." 
 
 18. 
 
 Then said the doughty Douglas 
 
 Unto the Lord Percy, 
 " To kill all these guiltless men, 
 
 Alas ! it were great pity; 
 
 19. 
 
 •' But, Percy, thou art a lord of land, 
 I am an earl in my own country; 
 
 Let all our men upon a party stand, 
 And do the battle of thee and me." 
 
 20. 
 
 " Now Christ's curse on his crown," 
 said the Lord Percy, 
 
 " Whosoever thereto says naj ! 
 Bv my troth, doughty Douglas," be says, 
 
 " Thou shalt never see that day, 
 
 21. 
 
 " Neither in England, Scotland, nor 
 France, 
 
 Nor for no man of woman born ; 
 But an fortune be my chance, 
 
 I dare meet him one for one." 
 
 22. 
 
 Then bespake a squire of Northumber- 
 land, 
 
 Rog. Witheringfon was his name — 
 " It shall never be told in South England 
 
 To King Harry tlie fourth for shame 
 
 " Qui sumns baud narrabimus, 
 
 Aut cnjns viii simus ; 
 Scd hie, invitis omnibus, 
 
 Venatum statim imus. 
 
 17. 
 
 " Cervorum hie pinguissimos 
 
 Occisos auferemus." 
 " Idcirco," dixit Douglasus 
 
 " Necesse est ut pugnemus." 
 
 18. 
 
 Et dixit fortis Douglasus 
 HiEc verba nunc Pcrsajo, 
 
 " Necare hos innoxios 
 Non essct gratum deo ; 
 
 19. 
 
 " Sed tu, Persa'G, princeps es, 
 Sum ego comes qnoque, 
 
 Cernamus soli, agmine 
 Manente hie utroque." 
 
 20. 
 
 Persffius inquit, " Pereat is 
 Qui huic vult obviam ire 
 
 Nam, hercle, dies aderit 
 Nunquam, Dougluse dire, 
 
 21. 
 
 " Quum AngliS, Scotia, GalliS, 
 
 Negaverim tentare 
 Sortem cum ullo homine 
 
 In pugnei singular?. " 
 
 22. 
 
 Tunc armiger NorthumbrisB 
 R. Withringtonus fatur, 
 
 " Nunquam Henrico principi 
 In Anglia hoc dicatur ;
 
 CHEYY CHASE. 
 
 195 
 
 23. 
 
 " I wot yc be great lords two, 
 
 I iim a poor squire of land, 
 I will never see my captain figlit in a 
 field 
 
 And look on myself and stand ;* 
 But while I may my weapon wield, 
 
 I will not fail both heart and hand." 
 
 24. 
 That day, that day, that dreadful day — 
 
 The first fytte here I find ; 
 An' ye will hear more of the hunting of 
 Cheviot, 
 Yet there is more behind. 
 
 23. 
 
 " Vos estis magni comilea 
 Et pauper miles ego, 
 
 Sed pugnaturum dominum. 
 Me otioso, nego : 
 
 Sed corde, manu, enseque, 
 Pugnabo quaindiu dego." 
 
 24. 
 dies ! dies, dies trux ! 
 
 Sic finit cantus primus; 
 Si de venatu plura vis, 
 
 Plura narrare scimus. 
 
 Finis Partis prim^. 
 
 P. S. — I am aware that " Douglassius" is consecrated; but I am not without 
 authority for Donglasus. — I have also translated this into Greek, and I send 
 you the first verse as a specimen. 
 
 JlepaaTog ck l!^op05^Pptai 
 
 ISiV^CTo ToTs 6eoT<n, 
 Qrjpffv ev Tpiaiv rijicpaiQ 
 'Ev ovpeai ^ePtaroiat, 
 
 Eui' nSciP irapnitn. 
 
 Doa't say a word of this, however, to Hailam — "classic Hallam, much re- 
 nowned for Greek," as Lord Byron justly styles him — lest he should mistalio 
 my verses for Pindar's, and consequently declnre them not Greek. Apropos, 
 is it not a good joke to see Hallam putting a Greek motto to his book on the 
 Middle Ages after all? I was thinking of translating old Chevy into Hebrew 
 — for I am a Masorite; but as Professor Leslie has declared Hebrew to be a 
 " rude and poor dialect," in his book on Arithmetic, I was afraid to come under 
 the censure of that learned gentleman. To be sure be does not know (as I 
 can prove from his writings) even the alphabet of the language he abuses, but 
 still I am afraid he would freeze me if I had any thing to do with it. 
 
 * In Bishop Percy — "And stand myself and look on." But coiTect it, meo 
 periculo. — W. M.
 
 196 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 d)ct32 QTljaDc. 
 
 Second FyUe* 
 
 1. 
 
 tTHE English men liacl tVioir bowg bent, 
 Their hearls were good enow, 
 
 The firstt of ariows that they shot off, 
 Seven score spearmen they slew. 
 
 2. 
 
 Yet bides Earl Donglns on the bent, 
 
 A captain good enough ; 
 And that was seen verament. 
 
 For he wrought them wo and wouch. 
 
 3. 
 
 The Douglas parted his liost in three, 
 Like a chief chieftain of pride; 
 
 With sure spears of mighty tree, 
 They came in on every side. 
 
 4. 
 
 Tlirough our English archery 
 Gave many a woiuid full wide ; 
 
 Many a doughty they made to die. 
 Which gained ihem no pride. 
 
 5. 
 
 The English men let their hows he, 
 And pulled out brands that were 
 bright; 
 
 It was a heavy sight to see 
 
 Bright swords on helmets light. 
 
 Pars Secunda. 
 
 1. 
 
 Angli perstronvn animis 
 Tunc arcus intenderunt, 
 
 Et vicies septem homines 
 Primo jactu necaverunt. 
 
 Attamen mansit Douglasus 
 In boni ducis morem ; 
 
 Quod patuit cum perniciem 
 EfFiidit et dolorem. 
 
 3. 
 
 Trifariam stnixit aciem, 
 
 Periti ducis arte ; 
 Cum hastis ligni validi 
 
 Ruunt ex omni parte. 
 
 4. 
 
 Ediderunt stragem plurimam 
 Per ordines Anglorum : 
 
 Heroum vitas dempserunt§ 
 Non amplius superborum.jl 
 
 Stringiint, omissis arcubus, 
 Angli glndios fulgentes : 
 
 Qiios miserum fuit cernere 
 In cassibus descendentes. 
 
 * This second fytte of " Chevy Chase" did not appear in Blackwood until 
 June, 1820.— M. 
 
 t I have, as before, modernized the spelling of the old ballad, and in a few 
 places the language. — W. M. 
 
 t i. e. First Flight. Percy.— W. M. 
 
 § Dr. Carey (Prosody, p. 199, &c.) condemns this license. I therefore give 
 him leave to alter my systolated prieterites into preterpluperfects, as he has 
 done in all the passages which stand in the way of his rule. I have no doubt 
 that he will discover some new picturesque mood and tense beauty in the change, 
 quite unknown to the author. — W. M. 
 
 ]1 I hope I have hit the sense of my original. — W. M.
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 
 
 197 
 
 6. 
 Tliioiigli rich ninil and myiic-yc-i)lc* 
 
 Many stern ihoy stiuolc <lown straight; 
 Many a ficke that w;is full fiee 
 
 There under foot did light. 
 
 6. 
 
 Armoiiim plic;is splondidas 
 ISIunro strictus penetravit ; 
 
 Et mnhos quondam nobiles 
 Pes vilis conculcavit. 
 
 At last the Douglas and the Percy met, 
 Liive two captains of might and main ; 
 
 They swept together, till ihey hoth sweat, 
 Willi swords of fine Milaiii.t 
 
 These worthy fickes for to fight, 
 Thereto they were full fain. 
 
 Till the hloodout of theirhelmets sprung. 
 As ever did hail or rain. 
 
 " Hold thee, Percy,'" said the Douglas, 
 " And i' faith I will ihi-e hriiig. 
 
 Where thou shalt have an earl's wages 
 Of .lames, our Scottish king: 
 
 10. 
 " Thou shalt have thy nuisom free — 
 
 I hid ihee hear this tliir)g ; 
 For tiie manfuUest man art thou. 
 
 That ever I conquered in field-fight- 
 ing." 
 
 11. 
 
 '* Nay, then," said the Lord Percy 
 
 " I told it thee beforne. 
 That I would never yielded be 
 
 To no man of woman born." 
 
 12. 
 With that there came an arrow hastily 
 Forth of a mighly one ; 
 
 Persaeus mox ct Douglasus 
 (Dux contra vires ducis) 
 
 Pugna concurrunt ensibus 
 Mediolani cusis. 
 
 8. 
 
 Hi comites fortissimi 
 Perstiterunt pugnando, 
 
 Donee cruor saliit cassibus, 
 Ut imber vel ut grando. 
 
 9. 
 
 " Si cedas," inquit Douglasus, 
 " Perducam te, Persaee, 
 
 Ubi ut comes viveres 
 Sub rege Scotise meae: 
 
 10. 
 
 " Bt tlytrum nullum peterem, 
 Nam vere potest dici, 
 
 Te virum esse optimum, 
 
 Quern prfelio unquani vici." 
 
 11. 
 Dixit Persaeus, " Iterum, 
 
 Quod antea dixi, edam; 
 Id est, quod nunquam homini, 
 
 Ex faemina nato cedam." 
 
 12. 
 Ex forti arcu calamus 
 Tum rapide volavit 
 
 * " Perhaps many plies ot folds. Monyple is still used in this sense in the 
 north, according to Mr. Lambe," Bp. Percy. I have followed him. — W. M. 
 
 t Swords made of Milan Steel. Percy. — W. M. 
 
 t Graece, XiJrpoi/. Ennius uses it, or rather its plural, lytra, as the name of a 
 play concerning the ransom of Hector's body. If this be not thought sufficient 
 authority, the reader may suhslhute prceii urn in the text with all my heart. — W. M.
 
 198 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 It luitli stricken llic Earl Duuglas 
 In at the breast-bone. 
 
 13. 
 
 Tliroiigb liver anil lungs both 
 
 The sharp arrow is g'one ; 
 That never after in his life days 
 
 He spake more words than *one. 
 " Fight ye my merry men while you may, 
 
 For my life days are gone." 
 
 14. 
 
 The Percy leant upon his brand, 
 
 And saw the Douglas die ; 
 He took the dead man by the band, 
 
 And said, " Wo is me for thee. 
 
 15. 
 
 "To have saved thy life I'd have part- 
 ed with 
 
 My lands for years three ; 
 For a better man of heart nor hand 
 
 Was not in all the north country." 
 
 16. 
 Of all tViat saw a Scottish knight, 
 
 Was named Sir Hugh Montgomery ; 
 He saw the Douglas to death was dight ; 
 
 He spanned a spear a trusty tree. 
 
 17. 
 
 He rode upon a courser 
 
 Through an hundred archery; 
 
 He never stinted nor never stopped 
 Till he came to the good Lord Percy. 
 
 18. 
 
 He set upon Lord Percy 
 A dint that was fidl sore. 
 
 Et inter verba Douglasum 
 In pectore vulneravit. 
 
 13. 
 In jecore et pulmonibus 
 
 Haesit sagita cita ; 
 Et postea verbum unicum 
 
 Hoc lantum dixit ita, 
 " Pugnate strenue, socii, 
 
 Nam ego cede vita." 
 
 14. 
 
 Persasus nitens gladio 
 Douglassi vidit mortem, 
 
 Et manu capta mortui 
 Ploravit ejus sortem. 
 
 15. 
 
 " Tribus annis agros dederem 
 Servare virum talem ; 
 
 Nam fortior nemo fuit per 
 Regionem borealem." 
 
 16. 
 
 Hugo MontgomorsBus hunc 
 Coesum vulnere indigno 
 
 Vidit, et hastam arripit 
 Ex slrenuo fai^tam ligno. 
 
 17. 
 
 Et equitavit fortiter 
 
 Per sagiltarios centum ; 
 
 Donee ad Angluin comitem 
 Ab eo erat ventum. 
 
 18. 
 
 Persfeum gravi vulnere 
 Dicto cilius sauciavit, 
 
 * From this it appears that Jerry-Benthamism is of an older date than the 
 superficial commonly imagine. Fight-you-my-merry-men-while-you-may-for- 
 niy-life-days-are-gone ; or, as the original has it, Fyghte-ye-my-merry-men- 
 whylles-ye-may-for-my-lyff-days-ben-gaM, is as pretty a single word as any we 
 can find in the lucid pages of this most Euphuistical radical, and most radical 
 Eupliuist, who commonly passes in our days for the inventor of the maiiy-words- 
 chil)l)ing-to-make-ono style. We have here a much older authority; so that 
 Jerry must be set down as one of the scrvum pecus in that instance. — \V. M.
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 
 
 199 
 
 Witli a sure spear of a tnisty troe, 
 C!o;in llirough die body he the Percy 
 bore. 
 
 19. 
 
 At the other side that a man might see 
 A hirge cloth yard and mare. 
 
 Two better Captains were not in Chris- 
 tianty 
 Tlian that day skiin was there. 
 
 20. 
 An archer of Northumberland, 
 
 Saw slain was the Lord Percy ; 
 He bare a bent bow in his hand, 
 
 Was made of trusty tree. 
 
 21. 
 An arrow that a cloth-yard long, 
 
 To the hard steel haled he ; 
 A dint that was both sad and sore 
 
 He set on Sir Hugh Montgomery. 
 
 The dint it was both sad and sore. 
 That he on Montgomery set; 
 
 The swan-feathers that his arrow boro 
 With his heart's-blood were wet. 
 
 23. 
 There was never a ficke one foot woul 
 
 fly- _ 
 
 But still in storm did stand. 
 Hewing on each other while they might 
 drie 
 With many a baleful band. 
 
 24. 
 This battle began on Cheviot, 
 
 An hour before the noon. 
 And when even song-bell was nmg. 
 
 The battle was not half done. 
 
 25. 
 They took on, on either hand. 
 By the light of the moon ; 
 
 Nam corpus hasta rigidi 
 Penitus pcrforavit. 
 
 19. 
 
 Hasta ex Iseso corpore 
 Exivit ulnse spatio ; 
 
 Meliores cassis ducibus 
 Non tenuit ulla natio. 
 
 20. 
 
 Sagittarius ex Northumbria 
 Vidit dominuni necatum ; 
 
 In manu arcum tenuit 
 Ex arbore fabricatum. 
 
 21. 
 Tres pedes longum calamum 
 
 Perduxit ad mucronem, 
 Et vulnere mortifero 
 
 Interimit Hugoncm. 
 
 22. 
 Pertriste fuit vulnus, quod 
 
 Hugo accipiebat : 
 Sagittre alas cygneas 
 
 Cor sanguine tingebat. 
 
 23. 
 
 Nulli vplebant fugere ; 
 
 Sed strenue simul stantes* 
 Dimicabant quamdiu licuit, 
 
 Se mutuo laniantes. 
 
 24. 
 
 Coeperunt hora cernere 
 
 Antemeridiana ; 
 Et prselium saeviit vesperis 
 
 Cum sonuit campana. 
 
 25. 
 Etiam sub Lunse radiis 
 Perstabant sic pugnare : 
 
 An attempt at imitating the alliteration of the oiiginal. — W. M.
 
 200 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Afnuy liad.no strength to stand, 
 III Cheviot the hills aboun. 
 
 26. 
 Of fifteen huinlred archers of Eng-land 
 
 Went away but, fifty and three : 
 Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scot- 
 land 
 But even five and fifty. 
 
 27. 
 But all were slain, Cheviot within, 
 
 Th(>y had no strength to stand on high ; 
 The child may rue that is unborn ; 
 
 It was the more pity. 
 
 28. 
 There was slain with the Lord Percy 
 
 Sir John of Agerstone ; 
 Sir Roger, the kind Hartley, 
 
 Sir William the bold Heron. 
 
 29. 
 Sir George the worthy Level, 
 
 A knight of great renown, 
 Sir R;ilph, the rich Rokeby, 
 
 With diiits were beaten down. 
 
 30. 
 For Withrington my heart is wo. 
 
 That ever he slain should' be : 
 For when his legs were hewn in two. 
 
 He knelt, and fought upon his knee. 
 
 3L 
 There was slain with the doughty Douglas 
 Sir Hugh Montgomery, 
 
 Donee saucinii plurimi 
 Non potuerunt stare. 
 
 26. 
 
 Quiuquaginta tres redlere ex 
 Anglorum ter quingentis; 
 
 Quinquaginta quinque tantum ex 
 Bis millibus Scotae gentis. 
 
 27. 
 Ceciderunt sane casteri 
 
 In montibus Cheviatis ; 
 Puer nondum natus fleret hoc 
 
 Quod est dolendum satis. 
 
 Occisi cum Persaeo sunt* 
 Johannes Agerstonus, 
 
 Rogerus mitis Hartlius, 
 Gulielmus et Heronus ; 
 
 29. 
 
 Et Georgius dignus Lovelus, 
 Bellator famse verce, 
 
 Rodolphus dives Rokebius 
 Confiissi cecidere. 
 
 . 30. 
 Pro Withringtono doleo 
 
 Qucm fatum triste stravit ; 
 Nam binis fractis cruribus 
 
 In genibus pugnavit. 
 
 3L 
 
 Montgomorseus ceeidit 
 Cum Doufflaso die eo : 
 
 * How beautifully Homeric! How like the cntalogues of the slain in the 
 lines of the Prince of poets ! Particularly, how like the following : ■ 
 
 Kat avv Tlepaata iSa/Jtv 'AyaTTunoi duvftojv, 
 'AjtAeios r' dyaOi'iij ' tlpcofoi 6' lirrrdTa Jfoy ; 
 Kat A.'il3c\oi KfiarepSs alXflTfii, t'iSe 'PojSaTos 
 A.(j>vetos (3i6toio ntaov ^lAvoT; ri'?: ; ■ . 
 
 The names in the Greek are not expressed so roughly as in the English, but 
 there is d manifest resemblance between the passages. — W. M.
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 
 
 201 
 
 Sir David Lidclol, lliat wortliy was. 
 His sister's son was lie. 
 
 32. 
 
 Sir Charles Murray in tliat place, 
 
 That never a foot wfmhl fly, 
 Sir Hugh Maxwell, a lord that was, 
 
 With the Douglas did he die. 
 
 33. 
 
 So on the morrow they made them biers 
 
 Of birch and hazel gray; 
 Many widows, with weeping tears. 
 
 Came to fetch their mates away. 
 
 34. 
 
 Tividale may carp of care ! 
 
 Northumberland may make great 
 moan! 
 For two such captains, as slain were there, 
 
 Of the march party shall never be none. 
 
 35. 
 Word is come to Edinburgh, 
 
 To James the Scottish Iviiig, 
 That doughty Douglas, lieutenant of the 
 march, 
 He lay slain Chmiot within.' 
 
 36. 
 
 His hands did he w^al and wring. 
 He said, " Alas! and wo is me! 
 
 Siu-h another captain Scotland within," 
 He said, " I'faith shall never be." 
 
 37. 
 Word is come to lovely London, 
 To the fourth Harry our king, 
 That Lord Percy, lieutenant of the 
 marches. 
 He lay slain Cheviot within. 
 
 Atqno Liildelus, dignus vir 
 Nepos Montgomerajo.* 
 
 32. 
 
 M(n-nsus, virtus bellica 
 Qnem fiigere non sivit ; 
 
 Hugo Maxwellus dominus 
 Cum Douglaso obivit. 
 
 33. 
 
 Feretra luce postera 
 Ex betula fecerunt; 
 
 Et lachrymantes viduae 
 Maritos avexerunt. 
 
 34. 
 
 Tiviotffi vallis lugeat ! 
 
 Northumbris sint dolores I 
 Nam nunquam ernnt finibus 
 
 Principes meliores. 
 
 35. 
 
 E din am regi Scotico 
 
 Mox nuncium est velatum, 
 
 Marcbiarum prasidem Douglasum 
 Esse collibus nccatum. 
 
 36. 
 
 Faedavit pugnis pectora, 
 Exclamans voce tristi, 
 
 Vie mihi ! quis in Scotia 
 Est comparandus isti? 
 
 37. 
 
 Londinumque amabilemt 
 Henrico est relatum, 
 
 Persasum finium pnesidem 
 Esse collibus necatimi. 
 
 * I confess that I am not sure whether the author means that Sir David Lid- 
 del was nephew to Earl Douglas or Sir H. M., but as the latter is more syntac- 
 tical, I have preferred it. — W. M. 
 
 t Another Homerism, Aiycias tpareiua;. Iliad, B. .532, 583. 'AoJ)!"?!' iparcivhv. 
 59L ~bilavrivi<nv iparuvhy. 607, and a thousand other places. The author had 
 manifestly made Homer his study. — AV. M. 
 
 9*
 
 202 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 38. 
 
 " God liave mercy on liis soul," says king 
 Harry, 
 
 " Good Lord if thou will it bo ! 
 I have a hundred caj)tains in England, 
 
 As good as ever was he. 
 But, Percy, an I brook my life, 
 
 Thy death well quit shall be." 
 
 39. 
 As our noble king made his avow, 
 
 Like a noble piincc of renown, 
 For the death of the Lord Percy, 
 
 He did the battle of Humbledown. 
 
 40. 
 Where six-and-thirty Scottish knights 
 
 On a day were beaten down ; 
 Glendale glittered with their armour 
 bright, 
 O'er castle, tower, and town, 
 
 4L 
 
 (This* was the hunting of the Cheviot; 
 
 That tear began this spurn ; 
 Old men, that knew the ground well 
 enough. 
 
 Call it the battle of Otterburn. 
 
 42. 
 
 At Otterburn began this spurn 
 
 Upon a Monday ; 
 There was the doughty Douglas slain. 
 
 The Percy never went away.) 
 
 38. 
 
 Salus sit animre, inquit Rex, 
 
 Si ita plnceat deo ! 
 Sunt pares fortitudine 
 
 Centum duces regno meo ; 
 Sed tamen Scotos puniam 
 
 Pro nobili Persaeo. 
 
 39. 
 
 Et Homilduni fortis rex 
 Piilravit id quod dixit ; 
 
 Ubi propter cffisum comitem 
 Cum hostibus conflixit. 
 
 40. 
 
 Ubi quater novem equites 
 Scoti simul periere ; 
 
 Glendalae turrcs castraque 
 Sparsis armis micuere. 
 
 41. 
 
 Et causam dedit prjelii 
 
 Venntio Cheviata; 
 Pugna, loci gnaris senibus, 
 
 Otterburni esl vocata. 
 
 42. 
 Otterburni die Lun'as sic 
 
 Incepi hie venatus; 
 Ibi Persseus cecidit, 
 
 Et Douglasus est stratus. 
 
 * Bp. Percy suspects these two verses, 41, 42, to be spurious. So do I, as 
 they stand at present ; but I think we might make a good verse out of the two; 
 thus : 
 
 This was the hunting of the Cheviot, 
 
 Upon a Monday ; 
 There was the doughty Douglas slain, 
 The Percy never went away. 
 
 This will get off the confusion with regard to the battle of Otterburn, and the 
 strange language of these verses. Perry's interpretation of" That tear began 
 this spurn," is, " That tearing or pulling occasioned this spurn or kick." I 
 have followed him, though I confess I am not satisfied with it. — W. M.
 
 CHEVY CHASE. 203 
 
 43. 43. 
 
 There never was a timo on the mnrch parties, Cum se in marchiis Douglasus 
 
 Since the Douglas and the Percy met, Persajo obviam daret, 
 
 But it was marvel an the red blood ran no Fuit mirum, si effusius 
 
 As the rain does on the street. Cruor imbre non manaret. 
 
 44. 44. 
 
 Jesus Christ our *bales bete, Miserere nostrum domine ! 
 
 And to the bless us bring ! Et nos salute dona. 
 
 Tiiis was the hunting of the Cheviot; Venatio ista fiiiiit sic; 
 
 God send us all good ending! Sit nobis finis bona! 
 
 aSj:i)liccti)a£lidjai-tiSl)ealcttcinp.?t)cnv.bi. 5Z|:i)licit©.33-tem2.eKeo.KV. 
 
 PERORATIO. 
 
 1. 3. 
 
 Vale! I, carmen meum, i, Quid agam, si iiiten-oget, 
 
 Pulcherrimam Edinam, Rcspendeas, "Nihil sane; 
 
 Et ibi pete iilico Est, bibit, garrit, donnitat, 
 
 Blackwodi Magazinam. Meridie, vespere, mane."' 
 
 2. 4. 
 
 Invenias turn Christophorum Et addas, " Te, Christophore 
 
 A Borea nominatum. (Ut liquido juravit) 
 
 Cui tuum spero numerum In tribus, cum me mitteret, 
 
 Rhythmicum fore gratum. Cantharis propiiiavit." 
 
 5. 
 Finiamus nunc. Lectoribus 
 
 (Si ulli siiit lectores) 
 
 Arrideant, precor, veneres, 
 
 Et gratiie, et amores. 
 
 * i. e. Better our hales, remedy our evils. Bp. Percy. — W. M. 
 
 t The author of this ballad, as the reader may see by the expliceth, is Rich- 
 ard Sheale, a gentleman not to be confounded, as honest old Torn Heanio 
 has done, with a Richard Sheale who was living in 1588. Nor is he to be con- 
 ff)unded with a Richard Sheil who is alive in 1820, writing tragedies and other 
 jocose performances. I waive the objection arising from Chronology, as that 
 is a science I despise, therein imitating Lady Morgan, the Edinburgh Review- 
 ers, Major Cartwright, and various other eminent persons. For (to tulce one 
 instance from the works of the first-cited authority) might not Mr. Richard 
 Sheil of 1820, be as capable of writing a ballad in the days of Henry VI. as 
 the wife of the Grand Cond6 of intriguing with a king who was dead before 
 she was born? (See, if extant, Lady Moigan's France.) My objections to 
 their identity are of a graver and more critical nature. \st, Richard Sheil of 
 Che\'j' Chase is an original writer, which nobody accuses Richard Sheil of 
 Evadiie of being. 2ndly, Although in verse 33, Second Fytte, the ballad-mon- 
 ger had an opportunity of bringing up the children with their mothers, to serve 
 as a clap-trap, he has not done so ; an omission of which the tragedy-monger
 
 204 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I Lave done witli Clievy Cliase ; but as I am in a garrnlonR 
 fiisposition, I wisli to add a few words. Eveiy true lover of 
 English literature, must acknowledge the great benefit conferred 
 on it by Bishop Perry, in piablishing his Relics. That work has 
 breathed a spirit of renovated youth over our poetry ; and v.e 
 may trace its influence in the strains of higher mood, uttered by 
 the great poets of our own days. The Bishop was qualified for 
 this task by exquisite poetical feeling, a large share of varied 
 antiqiiarian knowledge, and general literary acquirements — uni- 
 ted accomplishments which he possessed in a greater degree per- 
 haps than any of his contemporaries. But since his time, and 
 in a great measure in consequence of his work, and those which 
 it called forth, so much more is known with respect to early 
 English literature — I might say with respect to early Eng- 
 lish history — and the taste of the public is so much more in- 
 clined to such studies, that I think a general collection of our 
 old English ballads, comprising of course those of Percy, Rit- 
 son, and others, which may merit preservation, is a great desid- 
 eratum. Little skilled as I am in such subjects, I could point 
 out deficiencies in the plan or the details of every work of the 
 kind I have ever seen — deficiencies, however, which I have not 
 time to notice, nor perhaps would this be the proper place to do 
 it, or I the proper person, after travestying the first of old bal- 
 lads into Monkish Latin. I should require in the editor high 
 poetic taste, a deep and minute knowledge of the history and 
 antiquities of the country, a profound acquaintance with the 
 customs, the language, the heraldry, the genealogy of our an- 
 cestors, a critical judgment with respect to ancient poetry, and a 
 perfect familiarity with all our poetic stores, ancient and modern 
 — besides, what are not so common as may be imagined, unde- 
 viating honesty and fidelity. Yours, &c. &c. 0. P. 
 
 Dublin, Afay 31, 1820. 
 of Bidletnim would never have been guilty. 3clli/, The people in the poem of 
 the rhymester are decent men, «'ho talk plain lang^uage ; whereas, the people 
 ill The Apostate are stalking-talking- rogues, who discourse in the most sarsenet 
 ])lirnseology. Atlily, and lastly, The ballad of the Percy and Douglas (teste Sir 
 P. Sidney) moves the heart like the sound of a trumpet, whereas, the tragedy 
 of Adelaide puts one to sleep more effectually than a double dose of diacodium. 
 Wherefore, I am of opinion, that Mr. R. Sheil now extant, is not the author of 
 Chew Chase. Q. E. D. — W. M.
 
 THE MAN IN THE BELL. 205 
 
 3:i)c man in tl)c Bdi* 
 
 In my younger days, Lcll-riiigiiig Avas much more in fasliion 
 
 among the young men of , than it is now. Nobody, I 
 
 believe, practises it there at present except the servants of the 
 church, and the melody has been much injured in consequence. 
 Some fifty years ago, about twenty of us who dwelt in the vi- 
 cinity of the Cathedral, formed a club, which used to ring every 
 peal that was called for ; and, from continual practice and a ri- 
 valry which arose between us and a club attached to another 
 steeple, and which tended considerably to sharpen our zeal, •fre 
 became very Mozarts on our favorite instruments. But my 
 bell-ringing practice was shortened by a singular accident, 
 which not only stopped my performance, but made even the 
 sound of a bell terrible to my ears. 
 
 One Sunday, I went with another into the belfry to ring for 
 noon prayers, but the second stroke we had pulled shewed us 
 that the clapper of the bell we were at was muffled. Some one 
 had been buried that morning, and it had been prepared, of 
 course, to ring a mournful note. We did not know of this, but 
 tlie remedy was easy. "Jack," said my companion, "step up 
 to the loft, and cut off" the hat ;" for the way we had of muffling 
 was by tj'ing a piece of an old hat, or of cloth (the former was 
 preferred) to one side of the clapper, which deadened every 
 second toll. I complied, and mounting into the belfry, crept as 
 usual into the bell, where I began to cut away. The hat had 
 been tied on in some more complicated manner than usual; and 
 I was perhaps three or four minutes in getting it off"; during 
 which time my companion beloAv was hastily called away, by a 
 message from his sweetheart I believe, but that is not material 
 
 * This story first appcai'cd in Blackwood for November, 182 L It is briefly 
 characterized by Mr. Kenealy as " a pnper worthy of Victor Hugo." In an 
 Epistle General, which closed the number, and professed lo be addressed to 
 Correspondents, it was quizzically Siiid " Mr. Brougham will see that we have 
 lost no time in inserting 'The Man in the Bell.' He can best explain the 
 true meaning of this most mysterious and appalling narrative." But, in its 
 earlier days, Blackwood was fond of such mystifications. — M.
 
 206 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 to my story. The person who called him Avas a Lrofhcr of the 
 club, who, knoAvmg that the tune had come for ringing for ser- 
 vice, and not thinking that any one was above, began to pull. 
 At this moment I Avas just getting out, when I felt the bell mov- 
 ing ; I guessed the reason at once — it was a moment of terror ; 
 but by a hasty, and almost convulsive effort, I succeeded in 
 jumping down, and throwing myself on the flat of my back 
 under the bell. 
 
 The room in which it Avas, Avaa little more than sufficient to 
 contain it, the bottom of the bell coming Avithin a couple of feet 
 of the floor of lath. At that time I certainly Avas not so bulky 
 as I am noAv, but as I lay it was within an inch of my face. I 
 had not laid myself down a second, when the ringing began. — 
 It was a dreadful situation. Over me swung an immense mass 
 of metal, one touch of Avhich Avould have crushed me to pieces ; 
 the floor under me Avas principally composed of crazy laths, and 
 if they gaA^e Avay, I was precipitated to the distance of about 
 fifty feet upon a loft, Avhich would, in all probability, have sunk 
 under the impulse of my fall, and sent me to be dashed to atoms 
 upon the marble floor of the chancel, an hundred feet beloAv. I 
 remembered — for fear is quick in recollection — hoAV a common 
 clock-Avright, about a month before, had fallen, and bursting 
 through the floors of the steeple, driven in the ceilings of the 
 porch, and even broken into the marble tombstone of a bisliop 
 Avho slept beneath. This was my first terror, but the ringing 
 had not continued a minute, before a more awful and immediate 
 dread came on me. The deafening sound of the bell smote into 
 my ears Avith a thunder Avhich made me fear their drums Avotdd 
 crack. — There was not a fibre of my body it did not thrill 
 through : it entered my A^ery soul ; thought and reflection Avere 
 almost utterly banished ; I only retained the sensation of ago- 
 nizing terror. Every moment I saw the bell SAveep Avithin an 
 inch of my face ; and my eyes — I coidd not close them, though 
 to look at the object Avas bitter as death — folloAA^ed it instinctive- 
 ly in its oscillating progress until it came back again. It Avas 
 in vain I said to myself that it could come no nearer at any fu- 
 ture SAving than it did at first; every time it descended, I en- 
 deavored to shrink into the very floor to avoid being buried un-
 
 THE MAN IN THE BELL. 207 
 
 der the down sweeping mass ; and then reflecting on the danger 
 of pressing too weightily on my frail support, M'onld cower up 
 again as far as I dared. 
 
 At first my fears were mere matter of fiict. I was afraid the 
 puliies above would give wny, and let the bell plunge on me. 
 At another time, the possibility of the clapper being shot out in 
 some sweep, and dashing through my body, as I had seen a 
 ramrod glide through a door, flitted across my mind. The 
 dread also, as I have already mentioned, of the crazy floor, tor- 
 mented me, but these soon gave way to fears not more unfound- 
 ed, but more visionary, and of course more tremendous. The 
 roaring of the bell confused my intellect, and my fancy soon 
 began to teem with all sort uf strange and terrifying ideas. 
 The bell pealing above, and opening its jaAvs with a hideous 
 clamor, seemed to me at one time a ravening monster, raghig to 
 devour me ; at another, a whirlpool ready to suck me into its 
 bellowing abyss. As I gazed on it, it assumed all shapes ; it 
 was a flying eagle, or rather a roc of the Arabian story-tellers, 
 clapping its wings and screaming over me. As I looked up- 
 ward into it, it would appear sometimes to lengthen into indefi- 
 nite extent, or to be twisted at the end into the spiral folds of 
 the tail of a flying-dragon. Nor was the flaming breath, or fiery 
 glance of that fable animal, wanting to complete the picture. 
 My eyes inflamed, bloodshot, and glaring, invested the supposed 
 monster with a full proportion of unholy light. 
 
 It would be endless were I to merely hint at all the ftxncies 
 that possessed my mind. Every object that was hideous and 
 roaring presented itself to my imagination. I often thought 
 that I was in a hurricane at sea, and that the vessel in which I 
 was embarked tossed under me with the most furious vehe- 
 mence. The air, set in motion by the swinging of the bell, 
 blew over me, nearly with the violence, and more than the 
 thunder of a tempest : and the floor seemed to reel under me, 
 as under a dnmken man. But the most awful of all the ideas 
 that seized on me were drawn from the supernatural. In the 
 vast cavern of the bell hideous faces appeared, and glared down 
 on me with terrifying frowns, or with grinning mockery, still 
 more appallhig. At last, the devil himself, accoutred, as in the
 
 208 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 common desciiption of the evil spirit, witli lioof, horn, and tail, 
 and eyes of infernal lustre, made his appearance, and called on 
 me to curse God and worship him, who Avas powerful to save 
 me. This dread suggestion he nttercd with the full-toned 
 clangor of the bell. I had him within an inch of me, and I 
 thought on the fate of the Santon Barsisa. Strenuously and 
 desperately I defied him, and bade him be gone. Reason, then, 
 for a moment, resumed her sway, but it M'as only to fill me 
 Avith fresh terror, just as the lightning dispels the gloom that 
 surrounds the benighted mariner, but to shew him that his ves- 
 sel is driving on a rock, where she must inevitably be dashed 
 to pieces. I found I was becoming delirious, and trembled lest 
 reason should utterly desert me. This is at all times an agoni- 
 zing thought, but it smote me then with tenfold agony. I fear- 
 ed lest, Avhen utterly deprived of my senses, I should rise, to do 
 which I was CA^ery moment tempted by that strange feeling 
 which calls on a man, whose head is dizzy from standing on the 
 battlement of a lofty castle, to precipitate himself from it, and 
 then death Avould be instant and tremendous. When I thonght 
 of this, I became desperate. I caught the floor Avith a grasp 
 Avhich droA'e the blood from my nails ; and I yelled A^'itll the 
 cry of despair. I called for help, I prayed, I shouted, but all 
 the efforts of my voice Avere, of conrse, drowned in the bell. As 
 it passed over my mouth, it occasionally echoed my cries, Avhich 
 mixed not Avith its OAvn sound, but preserved their distinct character. 
 Perhaps this Avas but fancy. To me, I knoAV, they then sound- - 
 ed as if they Avere the shouting, hoAvling or laughing of the fiends 
 Avith Avhich my imagination had peopled the gloomy cave Avhicli 
 SAVung OA^er me. 
 
 You may accuse me of exaggerating my feelings ; but I am 
 not. Many a scene of dread have I since passed through, but 
 they are nothing to the self-inflicted terrors of this half hour. 
 The ancients have doomed one of the damned, in their Tartarus, 
 to lie under a rock, Avhich every moment seems to be descend- 
 ing to annihilate him — and an awful punishment it Avould be. 
 l^ut if to this you add a clamor as loud as if ten thousand furies 
 Avere hoAvling about you — a deafening uproar banishing reason, 
 and driving you to madness, you must alloAV that the bitterness
 
 THE MAN IN THE BELL. 209 
 
 of the pang was renclerecl more terriLle. There is no man, firm as 
 his nerves may be, who could retain his courage in this situation. 
 In twenty minutes the ringing was done. Half of that time 
 passed over me without power of computation— ^ the other half 
 appeared an age. When it ceased, I became gradually more 
 quiet, but a new fear retained me. I knew that five minutes 
 would elapse without ringing, but, at the end of that short time 
 the bell would be rung a second time, for five minutes more. 1 
 could not calculate time. A minute and an hour were of equal 
 duration. I feared to rise lest the five minutes should have 
 elapsed, and the ringing be again commenced, in which case I 
 should be crushed, before I could escape, against the Avails or 
 frame-work of the bell. I therefore still continued to lie down, 
 cautiously shifting myself, however, with a careful gliding, so 
 that my eye no longer looked into tlie hollow. This was of 
 itself a considerable relief. The cessation of the noise had, in a 
 great measure, the effect of stupifying me, for my attention, 
 being no longer occupied by the chimeras I had conjured up, 
 began to flag. All that now distressed me was the constant ex- 
 pectation of the second ringing, for which, however, I settled 
 myself with a kind of stupid resolution. I closed my eyes, and 
 clenched my teeth as firmly as if they were screwed in a vice. 
 At last the dreaded moment came, and the first swing of the 
 bell extorted a groan from me, as they say the most resolute 
 victim screams at the sight of the rack, to which he is for a sec- 
 ond time destined. After this, however, I lay silent and leth- 
 argic, without a thought. Wrapt in the defensive armor of stu- 
 pidity, I defied the bell and its intonations. When it ceased, I 
 was roused a little^by the hope of escape. I did not, however, 
 decide on this step hastily, but, putting up my hand with the 
 utmost caution, I touched the rim. Though the ringing had 
 ceased, it still was tremulous from the sound, and shook under 
 my hand, which instantly recoiled as from an electric jar. A 
 quarter of an hour probably elapsed before I again dared to 
 make the experiment, and then found it at rest. I determined 
 to lose no time, fearing that I might have lain then already too 
 long, and that the bell for evening service would catch me. 
 This dread stimulated me, and I slipped out with the utuiost
 
 210 THE ODOHERTY PAPEES. 
 
 rapidity, and arose. I stood, I suppose, for a minute, looking with 
 silly -wonder on the place of my imprisonment, penetrated with 
 joy at escaping", but then rushed down the stony and irregular 
 stair with the velocity of lightning, and arrived in the bell-ring- 
 er's room. This was the last act I had poAver to accomplish. 
 I leant against the Avail, motionless and deprived of thought, in 
 Avhich posture my companions found me, when, in the course of 
 a couple of hours, they returned to their occupation. 
 
 They Avere shocked, as well they might, at the figure before 
 them. The Avind of the bell had excoriated my face, and my 
 dim and stupified eyes Avere fixed with a lack-lustre gaze in my 
 raAv eye-lids. My hands were torn and bleeding : my hair dis- 
 hevelled ; and my clothes tattered. They spoke to me, but I 
 gave no answer. They shook me, but I remained insensible. 
 They then became alaruied, and hastened to remove me. He 
 Avho had first gone up with me in the forenoon, met them as 
 tliey carried me through the church-yard, and through him, who 
 Avas shocked at having, in some measure, occasioned the acci- 
 dent, the cause of my misfortune was discovered. I was put to 
 bed at home, and remained for three days delirious, but gradu- 
 ally recoA'ered my senses. You may be sure the bell formed a 
 prominent topic of my ravings, and if I heard a peal, tlicy Avere 
 instantly increased to the utmost violence. Even when the de- 
 lirium abated, my sleep was continually disturbed by imagined 
 ringings, and my dreams were haunted by the fancies which 
 almost maddened me Avliile in the steeple. My friends removed 
 me to a house in the country, which Avas sufficiently distant from 
 any place of Avorship, to save me from the apprehensions of 
 hearing the church-going bell ; for A\diat Alexander Selkirk, in 
 Cowper's poem, complained of as a misfortune, was then to me 
 as a blessing. Here I recovered ; but even long after recovery, 
 if a gale Avafted the notes of a peal toAvard me, I started with 
 nervous apprehension. I felt a Mahometan hatred to all the 
 bell tribe, and envied the subjects of the Commander of the 
 Faithful the sonorous voice of their Muezzin. Time cured this, 
 as it does most of our follies ; but, even at the present day, if, 
 by chance, my ner\'es be unstrung, some particular tones of the 
 cathedral bell have poAver to surprise me into a momentary start.
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 211 
 
 QL])t Cost (anb i^ounb) iltcmoranbnm Book.* 
 
 Preliminaiy letter — Exlracts — Strictures on Political Econnmy, wherein a 
 Remedy for the Poor Laws is Divulged — Diary — Cockney Letter and Love 
 Sling — The Somiianibulatory Butcher, an Episode — Ailie Miishat's Cairn — 
 Japanese Poetry; Ode on the Death of Yahmahsseero — Stanzas on Despair, 
 and Thoughts on a New Conjugation. 
 
 To Christopher North, Esq. 
 
 Sir, — "While lately travelling througli part of England, a 
 thing which is customary with nie twice a year, for the transac- 
 tion of business, I happened, in the stage between Bath and 
 
 , to meet with a circumstance, which is the occasion of 
 
 my now addressing you. 
 
 As I do not happen to be of the melancholic temperament, 
 and am rather fond, than otherwise, of society, it is not unusual 
 for me, as I am a bachelor, and have the happiness or misery 
 of travelling alone, when I fall in with a landlord of genteelish 
 manners, and good nature, to ask him to a participation of my 
 supper. By good luck, it fell out that I here found a man to 
 my mind. After supper was discussed, and our rummers charged 
 for the second time, the spirit of my host began to expand ; and, 
 in the midst of his hilarity, he let me into numerous anecdotes of 
 his own ; some of which might have been spared, and many of 
 which were entertaining enough. I shall confine myself to that 
 which is the subject of my present epistle. 
 
 About two years ago, a military gentleman, of what rank he 
 could not learn, except that his companions sometimes called 
 him General, took up abode with him for eight days ; and lived, 
 during the whole of that time, to use a proverbial expression, 
 "at rack and manger." Every stranger that arrived within that 
 time, at the inn, seemed to be of his acquaintance ; or, if they 
 were unknown to him, a friendship was soon begun and cement- 
 ed ; and ere they were a couple of hours together, one coukl 
 have sworn that they had been born in the same village — edu- 
 
 * These "Extracts ftom a lost (and found) Memorandum Book,'' appeared 
 in Blackwood for March, 1821. — M.
 
 212 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 catecl at the same scliool — or, to biing forward a still stronger 
 link of association, M'hicli the author of Rob Roy has mentioned, 
 " had read from the same Bible at church." Whoever was with 
 h!m, whether the social or the serious, he regularly obliged them 
 to sit till three in the morning, when he sent them, or, more 
 properly speaking, led them, to their bed rooms. 
 
 At length, having ordered breakfast one morning, he disap- 
 peared, and the landlord could never afterwards find one token 
 or trace of him. He left behind him a green net purse, (con- 
 taining more than the amount of his bill,) and the chambermaid 
 drowned in tears. He was remarkably tall, of rather a spare 
 habit of body, wore neatly curled broAvn whiskers, a gray surtout, 
 Wellington boots, with spurs, and a South-Sea cap, with a gold 
 band. He had no baggage with him ; and the only relique of 
 his visit was a little book, which he had inadvertently left in his 
 bed room. 
 
 I begged a sight of this relique from my host, and was not a 
 little struck with its contents. It is a small volume, in red bind- 
 ing, fastened with tape — on the back, in gilt letters, is marked 
 " Memorandum Book." After looking over a few pages, I was 
 highly amused with its contents, and expressed myself so to my 
 host, Avho obligingly told me it was of no use to him, and that I 
 was most welcome to it. Its contents are of a most miscellane- 
 ous nature, and written, in some parts, in a rather illegible hand. 
 I have made one of my young men transcribe a piece from it, 
 here and there, which you will receive along with this, and 
 which you may make public if you please. Should I observe 
 this to be the case, I may transmit you a few farther extracts 
 from time to time. I remain yours, &c. 
 
 J T N. 
 
 Fehruary 10, 1821.
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 213 
 
 EXTRACTS. 
 
 ' No. I. 
 
 STRICTURES ON POLITICAI, ECONOMY, WHEREIN A REMEDY FOR THE POOR 
 LAWS IS DIVULGED. 
 
 Insula, sole occidentc, vivitli, seculis pliirimis clapsis, piiPclarus vir inilitaris 
 npparebitque florebit. Ille non mnrlo omni sapienfiae re, sod onini pliilosnpliim 
 discct et docebit; poeta ptinmquo Celebris. — Frag. M.S. Vet. apud. Vatican.* 
 
 It is only of late ye.ars tliat political economy lias raised itself 
 to the dignity of a science. Doctrines, that men believed to be 
 as trne as Father Paul's history of the Council of Trent, were 
 nevertheless neglected ; and other theories, as unsubstantial as 
 the morning mist, though known and acknowledged to be false, 
 substituted in their stead, and acted on. As Jeffrey said of 
 Wordsworth's Excursion, "this Avould never do." The chaff 
 has been sifted from the wheat — the truth has been purified 
 from the ei'ror — and the facts that before were scattered, like 
 the twelve tribes of Israel, over the face of society, have been 
 brought together, and cemented into a regular and almost com- 
 plete fabric, under the auspices of IMalthus, Godwin, Weyland 
 Say, James Graham, M'Oulloch, Jeremy Benthain, and the 
 writer of the present article. 
 
 But what is the rising of the stocks to him who has no capi- 
 tal ? — What is the question about the balance of trade to him 
 who has no merchandise 1 And what is the worth of our knowing 
 the right principles, if we find it impossible to act on them ? — It 
 is of no use to knoAV the nature of the disease, if we have not a 
 plaster to apply, or a remedy to prescribe. 
 
 We cannot make as good silks in England as we can get from 
 India ; nor can we afford to sell them as cheap, we want mate- 
 ricl. But then it would overpower the feelings of our humanity 
 to ruin the 40,000 families, that are employed in that branch of 
 manufacture. The silk spun in this country is by no means so 
 good ; whether it be the case that the silk-worm does not keep 
 its health in our northern latitudes, or not, I have too little con- 
 fidence in my own opinion to say : but this I can tell from ex- 
 perience, that we are more apt to be mistaken as to the animal 
 
 *" This quotation is iiiinginary, of course. — RI.
 
 214 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 itself, tlicreliy rendering all our labour fruitless, and our efforts 
 abortive. The Avriter of tliis article bought several papers full of 
 the embryos of the silk-worm, but after waiting in eager expec- 
 tation for a twelvemonth, to his utter consternation and as- 
 tonishment, they turned out to be nought else but common 
 maggots. 
 
 The poor-rates are a great bore in this country, but it is all 
 owing to the excess of population, and for this I would hero 
 suggest a remedy. If the overplus of the population were to 
 be called together, and some able speaker, say one of the advo- 
 cates of the Scottish bar, selected, to address them, and lay 
 doAvn to them in a placid and precise manner, the hardships they 
 entail on society, and the impropriety of their ever having been 
 born, unquestionably then the overplus of population, provided 
 they consisted of well-educated, decent, and sensible people, 
 could hare no objection either to be transported beyond seas, or 
 despatched in as gentle a manner as could be devised. Until 
 a great national meeting is called for the purpose, we must be 
 content to put up with many evils. Mendicity is not the least 
 of these, and to the public in general we recommend the follow- 
 ing plan, which is as yet in private circulation, and does not 
 seem to have reached the ear of the Society for the Suppression 
 of Begging. It originated from the ingenuity of one of that use- 
 ful class of the community, a French cook ; but as he had been 
 for several years domesticated in this country, no other realm 
 can presume to come in for a share of the honour, which is 
 purely national. It is said that M. Say, Benjamin Constant, 
 and Carnot, claim it for France ; but this is only a report. 
 
 The house in which this ingenious French cook served, was 
 infested from morning to night, and the court-yard literally 
 swarming with beggars, as " thick as the motes that people the 
 sun-beams." The proprietor was dunned with petitions, and the 
 watch-dog, which was chained at the outer gate, had actually 
 worn down his teeth to the stimips in biting the intruders. No 
 further service could thus be expected from him. Long did the 
 French cook ponder, during his evening reveries over his tum- 
 bler by the kitchen fire, what could be done in the present un- 
 fortunate dilemma. For a long series of evenings he beat his
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 215 
 
 Lmins to no purpose ; at leiigtli, after a long hour's silence, lio 
 one night started up, and almost severed, with his heel, the but- 
 ler's gouty toe from his body, exclaiming — "Eureka! I have 
 found it ! !" 
 
 He set about preparing a most hellish decoction, which he 
 seasoned with Cayenne pepper, (the Capsicum Annuum of Lin- 
 naeus,) until it was enough, without a metaphor, to set the stom- 
 ach on fire, and cause an " interna conflagratio." 
 
 Next morning he set about putting his project in practice, and 
 the first beggar that approached he beckoned him to come in, 
 shut the kitchen door, and having filled out a bmnper, bade him 
 whip it off, and be gone, lest his master should appear. The 
 mendicant, glad of the treat, turned up his little finger in a 
 twinkling, and retreated as fast as his legs could carry him, but 
 not fur ; for his eyes threatened to start from his head, and the 
 saliva ran from the corners of his mouth, after the fashion of a 
 waterspout. Thus was one despatched ; he came no more. 
 Again — again — a hundred times was the project tried, and uni- 
 formly with the same success ; till, in less than three weeks, not 
 one beggar was to be seen in that country side. The French 
 cook is, we understand, at present putting in for a patent, which 
 we have no doubt will be granted. 
 
 By this the public may observe, that the way to get quit of 
 beggars is by the immediate use of the hellish decoction ; and 
 not by following the vain, void, visionary, childish, and nugatory 
 schemes, at present inculcated by the writers on political econ- 
 omy.* M. 0. 
 
 Jul// 10th. — Settled with Bullock and Badcock for the 
 •' Poems by a Military Amateur." Balance in my favour of 
 <£3 : 15 : 11 1-2. Very bad concern. Cost me three months' 
 
 This ironical remedy, suggested witli so much mock gravity, "is ahiiost wor- 
 thy, (Kennealy says,) of standing beside Swift's Project for eating children." 
 Who would have thought that, in 1843, the Duke of Norfolk should seriously 
 have proposed that hot water, highly seasoned with Cayenne, should be tiikcn 
 by the poor to assuage the pangs of hunger ? — M.
 
 216 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 severe composition.* Cannot fathom what the reading public 
 of this age would swalloAv : What I write most carelessly they 
 relish best. Hope I shall succeed better with my " Treatise on 
 the education of young ladies." 
 
 July 12tJi. — Went to Newmarket. Bet three to one, at 
 starting, on the blue body and buff sleeves ; fairly taken in, as 
 he came last ; or rather never came in, being distanced. Gulled 
 out of a guinea and half, and got very angry. Run, after the 
 race, a foot match with Lieutenant Finch ; shammed lameness at 
 first, and then beat him hollow ; running the last fifty yards 
 backwards. Out of pocket by this excursion 10s. 6d. 
 
 12th. — Played three hours at billiards with a knowing one, 
 who took me in. Proposed whist, at which I am a dead hand, 
 and fairly came paddy over him. Rose in a passion, and broke 
 off farther connexion with me, swearing there was foul play. 
 Gained by my acquaintance with him <£2 : 10 : 3. Got drunk. 
 
 l^th. — Headach in the morning. Wrote sonnet to Despon- 
 dency — ditto to Despair. Got up and shaved, felt better — 
 went out at twelve to a match at cricket — returned successful 
 — a dinner and drink at stake — dressed at five — excellent 
 claret — got drunk. Returned home, and read Roger's Human 
 Life — did not much like it — too wirewove. Took up Story of 
 Rimini — thought more highly of it — last book admirable. 
 
 15/7?. — Dreamt all night of Cockaigne — terrible jargon these 
 fellows speak. Felt squeamish ; but after despatching a bottle 
 of soda water, sate doM'n and composed the following letter and 
 love song. 
 
 LOVE SONG, 
 
 By a Junior Member of Ike Coclnicy School. 
 
 TO THE EDITOR OF LA BELLE ASSEMBLEE. 
 
 (This letter is private, so you must not print it.) 
 
 Sir, — As I am not at all pleased with the strain of sentiment 
 and aftectation, that disfigures and runs through the love poems of 
 
 * " The Feast of Bellona, and other Poems, by a Military Amateur," (an im- 
 aginary volume, published by Bullock & Badcock, iniag-iiiary booksellers in 
 London,) was reviewed with extracts in Blackivood for May, 1819, and professed 
 to have been written by Odoherty. It would seem that Maginn, to carry on the 
 joke, adopted it; but the antique extracts were by another hand, and want 
 the true attic flavour of Odoherty. — M.
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 
 
 217 
 
 Burns and Byron, I have endeavoured to Lit on a key somewhat 
 nearer to the well-head of the human heart, and somewhat truer 
 to the feelings of domestic nature, mutual endearment and con- 
 nubial felicity. Descriptions of simple life, and rural nature, 
 are very well to those who have had an opportunity of seeing 
 them ; but to me, and the multitudes like me, who live in the 
 great city, it is but just that the writers of the present age should 
 adopt something that Avould come home to our feelings and 
 businesses. A friend of mine, that came oflF a far journey last 
 week, very jauntily told me, that cabbages grew on fir trees, 
 that cows can eat potatoes, and that they feed sheep on cider in 
 Kent ; but I was not such a spoonie as to believe him. If the 
 accompanying poem be adapted to your miscellany, please insert 
 it, and believe me, 
 
 Your most obliged Friend, 
 
 Wm. Tims Goodenough. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage, 
 O ! charming- Polly Savage, 
 
 Youi" eye beats Day and Maitin, 
 Your cheek is like red cabbage. 
 
 As I wa3 going down the Strand 
 It smote my heart with wondur, 
 
 To see the lovely damsel, 
 A-sitting at a vinder. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage, &.c. 
 
 Oh! once I loved another girl, 
 
 Her name it was Maria; 
 But, Polly dear, my love for you 
 
 Is forty-five times higher. 
 
 O ! lovely Polly Savage, &c. 
 
 We'll lake a shop in Chicken Lane, 
 And I will stand prepared, 
 
 To sell fat bacon by the pound. 
 And butter by the yard. 
 
 O ! lovely Polly Savage, &c. 
 
 And when at five o'clock, my love, 
 
 We sit us down to dine, 
 How I will toast your darling health, 
 
 In draughts of cun-ant wne. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage, &c. 
 
 Oh then our little son shall be 
 
 As wanton as a spaniel, 
 Him that we mean to christen'd be, 
 
 Jacques Timothy Nathaniel. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage, &c. 
 
 And if we have a little girl, 
 I'm sure you wont be sorry 
 
 To hear me call the pretty elf 
 Euphemiar Helen Laurar. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage, &c. 
 
 Then fare-thee-well a little space, 
 My heart can never falter, 
 
 And next time when I see your face, 
 'Twill be at Hj'men's fciltar. 
 
 Oh ! lovely Polly Savage &c. 
 
 18th. — Wet morning, — could not venture to stir abroad, — 
 just shows us how much men alter. A few years ago, when my 
 Vol. L— 10
 
 218 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 country demancled my services, I braved the dangers of every 
 clime, the torrid heats of a Spanish summer, and the damp at- 
 mosphere of the United Stated. Uare say, however, that I 
 could do so again, if occasion required. Took a chair by the 
 fire, and read over again Crabbe's Borough. Think the Rever- 
 end Grentleman shows pluck ; but do not remember in all his 
 pictures of human life, ever observing the portrait of one butcher 
 introduced. Pondered whetber I might venture to remedy this 
 defect, and send him my delineation* to be hung np in the Gal- 
 lery of Portraits, in the next edition of his admirable work. 
 
 Wrote what follows in twenty minutes, and copied it verba- 
 tim, as under. 
 
 THE SOMN AMBULATORY BUTCHER. — An Episode. 
 
 Reflections — bi-.th, — parentage, — boyish tricks, — education, — change of 
 dress, — apprenticeship, — bladders and Dr. Lavement, — bad habits, — ditto 
 cured by his mother, — caution, — and moral. 
 
 Men's legs, if man may trust the common talk, 
 Are engines put in motion when men walk ; 
 But when we cross our knees, and take a chaii 
 Beside the fire, they're not in motion there: 
 So this we learn by wisdom, art, and skill, 
 That legs are made to stir, or to sit still. 
 Yet sometimes I have heard, that when the head 
 In woollen cap lay snoring on the bed. 
 The legs, without the sanction of the brain, 
 Were fond to wander on the midnight plain, 
 Pursue, mid darkness, tasks of common day, 
 Yet come, as will'd Caprice, unharm'd away; 
 Which to illustrate, let the reader bend 
 A willing ear, and list his warning friend. 
 
 James Neckum Theodore Emmanuel Reid, 
 Was meanly born, and was ignobly bred, 
 Lived upon pottage, slept within a shed ; 
 His mother, — But it were in vain to look — 
 Her's was no man-iage by the session book ; 
 His mother, fool, had never talien pains 
 To gird her neck with matrimonial chains, 
 
 * This is rather a parody on the imitation, in the Smith's " Rejected Ad- 
 dresses," than on the actual poetry of Crabbe. — M.
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. £19 
 
 Atirl he, her leman, seeing what would be, 
 
 TiirnM a bliie-iieck'd marine, and cross'd the sea ; 
 
 So, in neglect and wrath the child was bom, 
 
 While neighbours chuckled with their looks of scorn ; 
 
 But fast he throve, and fat he grew, and that 
 
 Was felt most keenly by the tortured cat, 
 
 Whose ears he pinch'd, whose tail he drew, until 
 
 'Twas forced, when fairly vanquish'd, to lie still; 
 
 The chickens too, no sinecure of life 
 
 Had with the boy, who pull'd their necks in strife, 
 
 Till from their sockets started their black eyes, 
 
 And died their vanish'd voice in feeble cries. 
 
 At length a cap upon his head was braced, 
 Shoes shod his feet, and breeches girt his waist; 
 Tall as a leek he grew, liis hair was long, 
 And through its folds the wild winds sang a song; 
 From mother's clutches oft would he elope, 
 And little knew his morning face of soap ; 
 Till, having spent the morn in game and play 
 With comrades dirty, frolicsome, and gay, 
 As duly as the village clock struck two, 
 As duly parted he from ragged crew, 
 And homewards wended, fast and nothing loth, 
 To dip his whispers in his mother's broth. 
 
 The hoy grew strong; the master of the school 
 Took him in charge, and with a birch did rule; . 
 
 Full long and oft he blubber'd ; but, at length, 
 Within a week he learned to letter tenth ; 
 And ere six moons had waxed, and waned, and set, 
 He had reached z, and knew his alphabet. 
 
 His education finish'd, choice he made 
 Of a most lucrative and wholesome trade ; 
 The leathern cap was now dismiss'd ; and red, 
 Yea fiery, glow'd the cowl upon his head: 
 And, like a cherry dangling from the crown, 
 A neat wool tassel in the midst hung down ; 
 Around his waist, with black tape girded tight. 
 Was tied a worsted apron, blue and white ; 
 
 His Shetland stockings, mocking winter's cold, ^ 
 
 Despising garters, up his thighs were roll'd. 
 And, by his side, horn-handled steels, and knives, 
 Glenm'd from his pouch, and thirsted for sheep's lives. 
 For, dexterous, he could split dead cows in halves, 
 And, though a calf himself, he slaughter'd calves.
 
 220 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 But brisker look'd the yoiitli, nnd notliing- sadder, 
 For of each mother's son he got the bladder, 
 And straight to Galen's-head in ioy he bore it, 
 Where Dr. Lavement gave a penny for it. 
 
 But he had failings as I said before, 
 So, duly as his nose began to snore, 
 His legs ran with his body to the door: 
 And forth he used to roam, with sidelong neck. 
 To — as the Scot's folks term it — lift the sneck. 
 All in his shirt and woollen cap he strayed. 
 Silent, though dreaming ; cold, but undiamay'd. 
 The moon was shining 'mid the depth of Heaven, 
 And from the chill north, fleecy clouds were driven 
 Athwart its silver aspect, till tiiey grew 
 Dimmer, and dimmer, in the distant blue; 
 The trees were rustling loud ; nor moon, nor trees, 
 Nor cloud, could on his dreaming frenzy seize. 
 But, walking with closed eyes across the street, 
 He lifted handsomely his unshod feet, 
 Till nought, at length, his wandering ankles propt, 
 And head and heels into the pond he dropt. 
 
 Then rose the loud lament; the earth and akies 
 Rung with his shouts, and echoed with his cries; 
 The neighbours, in their night-caps, throng'd around, 
 Call'd forth in marching order at the sound ; 
 • They hauled young Neckum out, a blanket roll'd 
 
 Around his limbs with comfortable fold. 
 Hurried him home, and told him, cursing deep, 
 " That if again with cries he broke their sleep, 
 Him they would change into a wandering ghost, 
 Draw from the pond, but hang him on a post." 
 
 Oh ! reader, leam this truth most firm and sure, 
 That vicious practices are hard to cure ; 
 That error girds up with a serpent fold. 
 Hangs on the youth, but clings about the old.— 
 Night after night, if rainy, cold, or fair. 
 Forth went our hero, just to take the air; 
 Ladies were terrified, and, fainting, cried, 
 A ghost in white had wander'd by their side ' 
 The soldier home his quaking path pursued. 
 With hair on end, gun cock'd, and bayonet scrcw'd 
 And frightful children run to bed in fear. 
 When mothers said the ghost in white was near !
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. Ii21 
 
 'Twas a lianl case, but Tljeodore's mothiT quick 
 Fell on a schome to cure him of the trick ; 
 Hard by his bed a vvasliing^-lub she placed, 
 So, when he rose, it washed him to the waist; 
 And loud he roar'd, — while startled at the sound, 
 Old women bolted from their beds around — 
 " Save, save a wundiM-in^ sinner, or he's drown'd ! ' !" 
 
 He rose no more, as I'm informed in sleep. 
 But duly fell'd down cows, and slaughter'd sheep, 
 Took to himself a wife, a pretty wench. 
 Sold beef by pounds, and cow-heel on a bench; 
 In ten years had seven boys, and five fair girls, 
 With cheeks like roses, and with teeth like pearls 
 Lay still in bed like any decent man. 
 Pursued through life a staid and honest plan, 
 And lived beloved, while honours thicken'd o'er him, 
 Justice cif Peace, and Gustos Rotuloruiii. 
 
 So all my readers from *' lis tale may learn, 
 The right way from the wrong way to discern ; 
 Never by dreams and nonsense to be led. 
 Walk when they wake, and slumber when in bed ! 
 
 Read last night a volume of the Heart of Mid-Lothian. 
 
 The author's name as well known to me as if he had put it on 
 the title-page. " None but himself can be his parallel." Well 
 may we say, as my friend Ovid said of Telamon Ajax, 
 
 " None but himself, himself could overthrow." 
 
 This book knits my heart more firmly than ever to the " land 
 of the mountain and the flood." When sitting in my chamber, 
 I am transported there in a twinkling ; the scenes rise before me 
 in all their native majesty — the Castle, the High-street, and the 
 Porteous mob. Am most pleased with the scenes at Davie 
 Dean's cottage, Leonard's Hill, and Arthur's Seat. Many a 
 time have I, reclining among the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, 
 surveyed, in extatic admiration, the magnificent prospect around ; 
 — the blue and castellated majesty of Dunedin, " throwing its 
 white arms to the sea;" — the variegated succession of wood- 
 lands, and pasture, and green fields; — the broad expanse of the 
 Forth, with its multitude of gliding sails ; — and, far in the north, 
 the pale green, or the remoter hazy blue mountains of Fife and
 
 222 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Stirlingsliire. At my feet, the Palace of Holy-rood, the habita- 
 tion of kings, the mansion of the Stuarts, with the Gothic ruins 
 of its chapel, its gray towers, and its desolate garden, spotted 
 with dark-green shrubs, and melancholy flowers ; — and, stretch- 
 ing around me in emerald smoothness, the far extending park, 
 with its well-trodden pathway. Often have I, returning half 
 cut, from dining at the mess of my fellow soldiers at Piershill, 
 felt an inward trepidation in entering that park, and instinctively 
 grasped my sword, when I thought on the ghost of Ailie Mushat, 
 who is said, yet to 
 
 " Visit the glimpses of the moon, 
 Making niglit hideous." 
 
 N. B. — A good subject for poetry; to remember it the first 
 idle hour. 
 
 (After a few pages, — commemorative of a battle between two 
 of the Fancy, written in the cant style, — the review of a corps 
 of sharpshooters, with whose manoeuvres the writer finds great 
 fault, — and an elaborate criticism on a charity sermon, which 
 had been recently preached, — we find this promise fulfilled to 
 the letter, as follows,) — 
 
 AILIE MUSHAT'S cairn. 
 
 A Vision-liko remembrance of a Vision, 
 
 The night was dark ; not a star was view'd 
 Mid the dim, and cloudy solitude; 
 1 listen'd to the watchman's cry, 
 
 And to tlie midnight breeze, that sung 
 Round the ruins of St. Anthony, 
 
 With dismal, and uneaitlily tongue: 
 I scarcely felt the path I trode ; 
 
 And I durst not linger to look behind, 
 For I knew that spirits were abroad. 
 
 And heard their shrieks on the passing wind; 
 When lo ! a spectacle of dread and awe 
 With trembling knees, and stiffening hair I saw ! 
 
 A grave-light spread its flames of blue, 
 Its flames of blue and lurid red. 
 And, in the midst, a hellish crew 
 
 Were seated roinid the stony bed
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 223 
 
 Of one, whom Miirclor lobbM of life ! — 
 
 I saw tlie hand that held the knife, 
 
 It wns her husband's hand, and yet 
 
 With the life-gore the blade was wet, 
 
 Dripping like a fiery slieath. 
 
 On the mossy cairn beneath ! 
 
 The vision changed ; and, on the stones,' 
 
 With visage savage, fierce, and wild, 
 Above the grave that held her bones. 
 
 The ghost of Ailie Mushat smiled ; 
 It was a sight of dread and fear — 
 
 A chequered napkin bound her head, 
 Her throat was cut from ear to ear. 
 
 Her hands and breast were spotted red; 
 She strove to speak, but from the wound 
 Her breath came out with a broken sound ' 
 
 I started ! for she strove to rise. 
 And pierced me with her bloodshot eyes; 
 She strove to rise, but fast I drew 
 
 Upon the grass a circle round; 
 I said a prayer, and she withdrew 
 
 Slowly within the stony mound — ^ 
 
 And trembling, and alone I stood. 
 In the depth of the midnight solitude. 
 
 Aug. 4. — Am glad to observe from tlie pliilosophical journals, 
 tlie newspapers, and other authentic sources, that several of the 
 barbarous tribes are paying attention to literature and the fine 
 arts. — The Japanese poem I have seen pleases me extremely, 
 though the subject can scarcely be said to be well adapted for 
 poetry. My translation is not so bad. M. Titsingh's Latin par- 
 aphrase is also very good. The English is literal. 
 
 ODE ON THE DEATH OF YAHMASSEERO, COUNCILLOR OF STATE. 
 
 Japanese. Latin. 
 
 Kee rah ray tab vah Praecidisse 
 
 Bah kah to see yo ree to Consiliarium minorem 
 
 Kee koo tah fah yah Nupor audivi. 
 
 Yah mah mo o see ro mo In montis castello 
 
 Sab vah goo sin bahn. Turbas excitantem, novum custodem. 
 
 English. Free Translation. 
 
 I have just learned that one of the Pray, have you heard the news? 
 new guards has excited a tumult in the One of the footguards drew
 
 224 
 
 THE ODOHERTT PAPERS. 
 
 castle, by assassiimting- a councilloi' in His ciitlas ; in a rage 
 bis folly. His anger to assuage, 
 
 A councillor lie slew ! 
 
 Yah muh see ro no 
 Ser ro no o ko so day 
 Tshay mee so mee tay 
 Ah Kah do see yo ree to 
 Fee to vah yoo nahr. 
 
 The white robe of Yahmahsseero is 
 stained with blood, and all call him the 
 red councillor. 
 
 III. 
 
 Ah soo mah see no 
 
 Sahn no no vah tahree nee 
 
 Mee soo mah see tay 
 
 Tab no mah mo kee ray tay 
 
 O tsoo too yah mah see ro. 
 
 The current which, on the eastern 
 road, crosses the village Sahnno, has 
 swelled, and penetrated the dike round 
 the fen, and the high castle of the moun- 
 tain has fallen. 
 
 Yahmahsseero 
 Candidam togam 
 Cruore tinctam 
 Eubentemque consiliarium 
 Omnes viderunt. 
 
 Yahmahsseero's robe 
 
 Is stained with fiery gore, 
 And each that doth him meet, 
 Calls him upon the street, 
 The crimson councillor. 
 
 In via oriental! 
 
 Per vicum Sahnno irnientes. 
 
 Aquae profluentes, 
 
 Tcrram lacunae perfossorunt 
 
 Rutique montis castollum. 
 
 The current to the east 
 
 By Sahnno, little town, 
 Hiiih overflown, and burst the dike 
 With fury, and the castle, like 
 
 A fool, hath fallen down. 
 
 Fah tsee oo yay tay 
 
 Oo may gah sah koo rah ta 
 
 Sah koo fahn mah vo 
 
 Tah ray tah kee tsoo kay tah 
 
 Sahn no mee kee ray say tah. 
 
 Who has cast into the fiie the plum 
 and cheery trees? — Valuable trees, 
 which are planted in boxes, for the sake 
 of their agreeable flowers ? Sahnno has 
 cut them down. 
 
 Pietiosas in vasis arbores, 
 Prunos et cerasos 
 Floribus amoenas 
 Quis in ignem projecit? 
 SahJtno quidem eas prsecidit. 
 
 Who has felled the cherry trees? 
 
 And who has felled the plum? 
 Trees planted in neat boxes. 
 And anything but hoaxes 
 
 For odoriferous gum. 
 
 Kee rah ray tah vah 
 
 Bah kah do see yo ree to 
 
 Yoo oobay kay mee 
 
 Snhn no sin sah yay mee moo 
 
 Ho ray gah ten mei. 
 
 PiSBcidit (consiliarium) 
 
 Vesanus consiliarius 
 
 Dicere possumus 
 
 Si prius talia unquam audiverimus 
 
 Hoc puisse Cali Mmidatitm.
 
 THE MEMORANDUM BOOK. 225 
 
 A councillor in Iiis madness liath been A councillor hjitli been knocked 
 overthi'own ; if ever such an event was From off his legs, — most true; 
 
 heard of, it may be said to be a judg- If ever such a thing was heard, 
 ment from heaven. It may most saftly be averr'd 
 
 That it iialh been — adieu! 
 
 Aug. 8. — Blue stockings are not to my taste, unless tlieir at- 
 tentiou be only paid to polite literature — the play that is just to 
 come out, or the last new poem. 
 
 Last night's party, however, the most agreeable of the kind 
 that I have met ; if the young lady with the blue eyes could 
 have been contented with only smiling and showing us her fine 
 teeth, and not disturbed herself about the alteration in the ci'im- 
 inal laAvs, and the effects which the corn-bill might have had. 
 
 Rather too theatrical in tlie other young lady, Miss , to 
 
 recite Coleridge's ode to the Departing Year, with such em- 
 phatic pith, and such vehemence of gesticulation. The MS. 
 poems handed round insufferably bad. Elegies in the measure 
 of " Oh, Miss Bailey, luifortunate Miss Bailey," and Odes, in 
 which sound gave sense no opportunity of coming forward in 
 self defence. Must learn the particulars of that sweet, modest, 
 and melancholy young creature, who sate on the end of the 
 ^opha, nearest the door. Am certain that I caught her sighing 
 several times. Must be at the bottom ; having been teazing 
 myself whether the unfortunate passion, the theme of the stanzas 
 which she handed about, as her picnic share of the literary ban- 
 quet, can be only an effusion of sentiment, or Avhether they have 
 originated in dread reality. At all events, she may wait long 
 enough, till her verses come round to her again ; as, in the heat 
 of conversation, I stowed them along with my snuff-box into my 
 waistcoat pocket. They are not amiss. 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 Oh mine be the shade, SfC. 
 
 Oh ! mine be the shade where no eye may discover, 
 Where in silence and sorrow alone I may dwell ; 
 
 Give scorn to the maid, who is false to her lover; 
 A tear unto her, who has loved but too well ! 
 
 10*
 
 226 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Alas for the heart, when uifcction forsaking^ 
 
 The vows, it has jiledgerl, and has cherish'd through years; 
 
 For no refuge remains to that lone heart but breaking, 
 The silence of grief, and the solace of tears! 
 
 Farewell the bright prospects that once could allure me 
 
 To think this poor earth was a promise of Heaven ; 
 Since he, who once doated, no more can endure me. 
 
 Too much with the darkness of fate I have striven ; 
 The flowers with their odours — the birds with their singing — 
 
 The beauties of earth, and the glories of sky, 
 Dear — sad recollections are constantly bringing — 
 
 And all that remains upon earth is — to die! ! 
 
 To die — or to be married. It is a lottery indeed, but still " I 
 have stout notions on the marrying score," to use the words of 
 an eminent poet.* Truly I am not a little taken with this sweet 
 young creature ; and perhaps, after all, this 
 
 Was nol taught her by the dove. 
 To dip, and know no second love. 
 
 If I thought so, — I do not know, but that I might make pro- 
 posals ; if she has any rhino, so much the better ; let her put it 
 in her pocket, and it will prevent the wind from blowing her 
 away. But the deuce is, I am afraid of that evil genius of mine, 
 Mrs. M'Whirter. What misery a rash step entails upon us. I 
 wish a hurricane would blow her and the lecturer to the river 
 of the Amazons for ever and a day. 
 
 * Leigh Hum, in " Rimini." — M.
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 227 
 
 iramiliar Ccttcr from tl)c !^bjutant.* 
 
 Dear Kit, 
 
 I write tliis in the earnest hope of its finding you less molest- 
 ed by your inveterate enemy in the great toe, and brimful of 
 the delight, which your modesty and ditifidence can not prevent 
 you feeling, in hearing it acknowledged from all quarters, that 
 yours is the most excellent work of its kind, which has appeared 
 in any country, since the invention of printing. Do let me 
 know what the Ed'mhurgh Revieiv people are saying about it, 
 or, if they are at last fairly beat to a stand still, and seriously 
 thinking of giving up the concern. I heard, indeed, that a 
 meeting of their contributors has been lately convened, either 
 for that purpose or perhaps for petitioning you to make your 
 journal a general receptacle for speculations of all kinds ; and 
 that, thus, such of them as were capable, might be transferred 
 to the legion of Blackwood, and not utterly cast destitute. But 
 this is a matter, friend North, on which I would advise you 
 to proceed with cautious circumspection — it might prove like 
 marriage — alas! the day — a step not easy to be remedied. 
 Many of your supporters would find a delicacy in making com- 
 mon cause with the generality of these folks, as they have ut- 
 tered such a quantity of unsound and unsatisfactory stuff", in 
 every branch and department of human knowledge, and ridi- 
 culed every thing worthy of respect and veneration. Exempli 
 gratia, but that's a trifle, there is your humble servant, who 
 could not, with any degree of honor, act in concert with men, 
 who depreciated the late glorious war, and every battle in it, 
 mid Avhose bloodshed, and under whose " sulphrous canopy" he 
 plucked A. leaf of laurel for his brow. But Ave shall drop the 
 subject, as not worth speaking about — conscious that where the 
 glory of his country, and the reputation of his work is concerned, 
 no man will direct the helm with a more intrepid spirit, or maul 
 the invaders, with a more unerring hand, than yourself, the re- 
 doubted Christopher North, Esquire. 
 
 •This Familiar Letter ("containing projects, promises, and imitations") 
 njtjieared in Blackwood for May, 1821. — M.
 
 228 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 You asked me in your last, if I ever now-a-clays read any 1 
 and if so, what books occupy my attention and time 1 A ques- 
 tion with a vengeance. Do you think that my knowledge 
 comes to me by intuition 1 After having written above half a 
 hundred articles to you, in every department of human knowl- 
 edge, you ask me if ever I read any. That reminds me of the 
 tower of Babel — you might as well ask if it reared itself. But, 
 in writing so, I doubt not yoxi have only made a hipstis Iwguce, 
 or at any rate a joke on my multitudinous researches. All 
 kinds of books come welcome enough to me. I have a capacity 
 of digestion rather ostrich-like, and capable of managing a great 
 farrago ; and assimilating the same into solid nourishment. I 
 like the drama very much ; and Alexander Macplierson being 
 now in the middle of the fifth act, will soon show whether or 
 not the genius of the drama loves me. Novels are " an appetite 
 and a feeling" which I can not resist — Political economy I like 
 better than I do some of its professors — Metaphysics are excel- 
 lent food for me ; and, over a ten-hours' mathematical proposi- 
 tion, I am as cool as a cucumber ; but entre nous, theological 
 controversy is my favorite study ; but don't mention this, as the 
 Roman Catholic clergy like notliing better than to have a bull- 
 baiting with me ; and, in spite of all my asseverations and pro- 
 testations to the contrary, they will insist that I am a little 
 loose both in my moral and religious principles ; but I am thor- 
 oughly convinced that they are wrong. 
 
 When you see Wastle, tell him I have found it quite out of 
 my power to be over, according to promise, at the walking of 
 the Commissioner ; but hope yet to have that honor along with 
 him. At all events, I am determined to be over at the Edin- 
 burgh races, as I have got possession of as fine a bit of horse- 
 flesh as ever put hoof to turf; and I would like to know what 
 success Salamanca would have, in taking a few rounds for the 
 hunter's plate. If he be successful, it will be a good specula- 
 tion; if not, I will sell him the next day at Wordsworth's* out 
 of pure vexation, although I had him as a present from a mili- 
 tary friend of mine, who rode him at the battle of Waterloo. 
 He has not yet lost tooth-mark, and gallops like a fuiy. The 
 
 * A horse-dealer in Edinbin-gh. — M.
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 229 
 
 best of it is, that tlie longer lie runs lie continues to improve ; 
 and, if there be above three foiir mile heats, I never saw the 
 horse, mare, or gehling, that I would not back him against, at 
 considerable odds. He is a little stiff for the first mile or so 
 after starting but when he begins to warm, you never beheld a 
 finer personification of the fine idea, which Lord Byron has ap- 
 plied to denote the beauty and swiftness of Mazeppa's charger, 
 
 Wlio looked as though the sjieed of tlioiight 
 Were in his limbs. 
 
 I have him in training already, and hope to show him off in 
 style to you in July. If I was not so lengthened in the nether 
 extremities, I would not care much to jockey him myself; but 
 that, to be sure, is an after consideration. 
 
 Do give us a paper from your editorial pen on the Pope and 
 BoAvles controversy. I cannot fathom what Campbell and Byron 
 would be at. Lord Byron compares the poetry of Pope to a Gre- 
 cian temple, and the poetry written by Campbell, Scott, Wastle, 
 Southey, Wordsworth, Hogg, Coleridge, himself, myself, &c. to 
 tlie tower of Babel. A pretty comparison of a surety ; but it is 
 all in my eye, Betty Martin, that men, like Campbell and 
 Byron, should imagine that the essence of poetry consisted in 
 the manners and morals of society ; in drawing pictures of mer- 
 chants with spectacles, and goose qitills stuck behind their ears 
 pondering over their legers ; of awfully ancient spinsters, leering 
 from behind their fans, and looking imutterable things ; of gro- 
 cers' apprentices, sanding the sugar, watering the tobacco, and 
 then walking aloft to prayers ; of the lack-a-daisical exclama- 
 tions of boarding school misses, and the pettifogging dandyism 
 of lawyers' clerks — and yet, that these poets, in hostility to 
 their own doctrines, should write of such natural personages as 
 a Corsair, with " one virtue, and a thousand crimes ;" of a Lord 
 Lara, who, seeing a ghost, broke out into a perspiration, and 
 spoke Gaelic or some other outlandish tongue ; of Count Man- 
 fred, alias Dr. Faustus, jun. who 
 
 saw more devils than vast hell can hold. 
 
 The madman. 
 
 Of the Giaour, Avho turned an infidel monk, because he ran 
 away with another man's wife, who was sewed up in a sack,
 
 230 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 and thrown into the sea; — or of such a ti-ue and natural person 
 as Andes, " Giant of the western star," sitting with his cheek 
 rechned on his dexter hand, and a flambeau in his left fist, look- 
 ing over in the dark from America to Europe ; — or of a gentle- 
 man of the second-sight, begging his master not to go to battle, 
 as he had a presentiment that he would be much safer at home ; 
 — and a thousand other things, well enough adapted to poetry 
 in my humble opinion, but having as slight an appHcation to the 
 practice of life as can well be imagined. Sir Walter Scott 
 must immediately send Lord Cranstoun's goblin page an errand 
 to the Red Sea, and let him be for ever " lost ! lost ! lost !" 
 And as for his redoubted namesake, Michael, the flag-stone 
 must be no more lifted from his grave ; — Coleridge must tie the 
 Auncient Marinere to a stake, and have a shot at him with the 
 cross-bow, as he so treated the "harmless Albatross;" — and as 
 for the Lady Christabel, he must, without delay, scribble four 
 dozen of letters, inviting his friends to her funeral — let him em- 
 ploy a patent coflin, as she is rather a restless and unruly sub- 
 ject. — Wordsworth must despatch the Danish Boy to the land 
 of shadow ; — and Hogg should purchase a pennyworth of sad- 
 dle-tacks, and, with a trusty hammer, nail the ears of the Gude 
 Grey Catte to his stable door, to frighten away the rats, as she 
 will no longer be able to act as governess to the Seven Daugh- 
 ters of the Laird of Blair. As for Miss Kilmeny, when she 
 comes back at the end of the next seven years, let him give her 
 a furlough, specifying perpetual leave of absence. — Dr. Southey 
 ought to send a specimen of a Petrified Glendoveer to the Col- 
 lege Museum, ere the species becomes utterly extinct, that fu- 
 ture antiquarians may not be completely puzzled, if their bones 
 be found, like those of the mammoth, in a fossil state ; and he 
 ought to give the witch Maimuna in Thalaba, that was perpet- 
 ually singing, a half-crown's worth of the most choice ballads, 
 to set her up in a decent line of trade, and have done with her, 
 Thomas Moore's Veiled Prophet, without the nose, should get 
 a proper certificate, and be sent to the Chelsea Hospital ; and, 
 on proper representation being made, the Peri, who had neither 
 house nor hold, may be received into the Charity- Workhouse. — 
 Do, North, convince both Mr, Campbell and his lordship, that
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 231 
 
 tlio world Is tolerably well contented with the poetry they have 
 foolishly thought proper to give it ; that though Mr. Campbell's 
 criticism is sometimes a little vapid, yet that his verses are gen- 
 erally excellent ; and that, if Lord Byron's system of moral and 
 ethical poetry be after his old way — that is, if Bcppo and Don 
 Junn, like the brick of the pedant in Hierocles, are specimens 
 of the materials of which it is to be composed, we should think, 
 that the world will be contented Avith the specimens it has al- 
 ready enjoyed. Enough is as good as a feast ; " where igno- 
 rance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise ;" and, as I am tired of it, I 
 will drop the subject. 
 
 Friend North, I have a crow to pluck with you, — You are as 
 strange a fellow as ever fell M'ithin the circle of my acquaintance, 
 always excepting Mrs. M'Whirter, for she beats cockfighting. 
 You will pretend, now, that you did not know to whom the 
 memorandum-book belonged, out of which you treated your read- 
 ers, or rather the world, for all the world are your readers, a 
 month or two ago. Really this is provoking, and I do not take it 
 altogether well at your hands. Would it not have been more cred- 
 itable to you, instead of creating a few smiles at my expense, to 
 have written to the wandering sinner of a Bagman, into whose 
 hands my book fell, that you knew the proprietor ; and that you 
 would thank him to transmit it to you, that you might transmit 
 it to the proper owner 1 It would not surprise me much, though 
 you were yet to write me a letter, professing your entire igno- 
 rance of the whole transaction ; and that you are free to give 
 your oath, that yoii had not so much as the smallest suspicion 
 that the memorandum-book could possibly belong to me. Do 
 you think me innocent enough to believe any stuff of this sort ? 
 Though I am not a Highlander, I have enough of the second- 
 sight to see clearly througli trifles of this kind. But I will waste 
 no more words on the subject ; and, thoi;gh we are hundreds of 
 miles apart, our hearts are always together. I can take a joke, 
 and can give one ; so we will shake hands and forget the whole 
 matter : Indeed I am almost sorry that I mentioned it; but don't 
 give any more extracts without my consent. 
 
 Tell our divan, the first time you all meet in Ambrose's, to 
 remember me in their prayers ; as I am sure that I never empty
 
 232 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 a tumbler or two, solus, without toasting them all alternately ; 
 and, as I allow each a bumper, it sometimes obliges me to have 
 a third brewing. Let them know, that I will see them all in 
 July, and that I have a budget of famous anecdotes and rencorr- 
 tres to entertain them with ; some of them out-hector Hector, 
 and they are all personal, ?/wo teste, as Maturin says. But I 
 shall drop the subject, as I do not wish to promise. " There's a 
 braw time coming," as the deacon's son observes. 
 
 What would you think of it, I have been amiising myself with 
 some imitations of the living authors ; — it was during the time 
 I was confined to my room, from having sprained my left ankle, 
 in leaping over a five-bar gate for a wager, and I intend to make 
 a complete cabinet of them. I have already allowed Hazlitt a 
 complete ration of epigram, antitliesis, and paradox. Goodwin 
 sails in a parachute of theory, suspended to a balloon inflated 
 with sulphureted hydrogen ; Gobbet writes an official document, 
 currente calamo, with all the courtier-like dignity becoming a 
 secretary to her majesty ; and Gharley Phillips, with his fists 
 tied into large bladders, knocks arguments from off their feet 
 by repeated donees on either side of the chops, with his unceas- 
 ing one, twos. I have, likewise, a complete set of the poets, 
 good, bad, and indifferent. The Gockneys I found it desperate- 
 ly hard to imitate, as I could not make my genius to descend 
 so low. I do not know, but that I have caricatured some of 
 them a little ; but this was unintentional, as they have fairly 
 baffled me in many particulars. 
 
 As you seem interested in my literary doings, I will treat you 
 with two or three short specimens, as I see you are already in 
 for a double postage. To begin with the mightiest man of our 
 age, do you think that in the following, I have cauglit the chiv- 
 alrous flow, the tone of the olden time, the grace, and the har- 
 mony, and the strength, that characterize the poetry of the 
 Ariosto of the North ? The Lay of the Last Minstrel, and Mar- 
 mion, form eras in the mind of every true living admirer of poet- 
 ical excellence. 
 
 The homifla in tlie kennel are yelling loud, 
 The hawks are bonne for flight ;
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FR6m THE ADJUTANT. 233 
 
 For the sun hath burst from his eastern shroud, 
 And the sky is clear, without a cloud, 
 
 And the steed for the chase is dight: 
 The merry huntsmen, up in the morn. 
 Crack the long whip, and wind tlie horn. 
 
 Lord Timothy rubbed his eyes, and rose 
 
 When he heard the merry crew; 
 He scarce took space to don liis clothes, 
 
 And his night-cap quick he threw 
 Back on the pillow, and down the stair, 
 Disdaining brush or comb for hair, 
 
 With lightning speed he flew; 
 And in the twinkling of a fan. 
 With frock and cap, the gallant man, 
 Caparison'd all spick and span, 
 
 Was with the waiting crew. 
 Sir Abraham i-ode his bonny gray ; 
 
 Sir Anthony his black ; 
 Lord Hector hath mounted his sprightly bay ; 
 Lord Tom, Lord Jack, and all ai'e away ; 
 Curvet, and demivolte, and neigh, 
 Mark out their bold and brisk array. 
 With buckskins bright, and bonnets gay. 
 And bugles at each back. 
 
 They had hardly ridden a mile, a mile, 
 
 A mile but barely ten. 
 As each after each they leaped a stile. 
 When their heart play'd pii-a-pat the while, 
 
 To see a troop of armed men, 
 A troop of gallant men at drill. 
 With well soap'd locks, and stiffen'd fiill ; 
 Each in his grasp held spear or sword. 
 Ready to murder at a word. 
 And ghastly was each warrior's smile. 
 Beneath his barred aventayle ; 
 Buff belts were girt around each waist ; 
 Steel cuisses round each thigh were braced; 
 Around each knee were brazen buckles; 
 And iron greaves to save their knuckles; 
 High o'er ench tin-bright helmet shone 
 The casque, and dancing morion. 
 Which reach'd to where the tailor sets. 
 On shoulder, woollen epaulets ; 
 Their blades were of Toledo steel, 
 Ferarra, or Damascus real;
 
 234 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Yen ! human eye did never see, 
 Through all the days of chivalry, 
 Men more bedight fiom head to heel, &c. 
 
 Lady Alice she sits in the turret tower, 
 
 A-combing her raven hair; 
 The clock hath tolled the vesper hour, 
 Already the shadows of evening lower 
 
 To veil the landscape fair. 
 To the jetty fringe of her piercing eye 
 
 She raised her opera glass. 
 For she was anxious to espy 
 
 If her worthy knight should pass. — 
 " Lo ! yonder he comes,*' — she sigh'd and said, 
 Then with a rueful shake of head — 
 " Shall I my husband ne'er discover — 
 'Tis but the white cow eating clover!" 
 She looked again, — " Sure yon is he, 
 That gallops so fast along the lea! 
 Alas ! 'tis only a chestnut tree ! I 
 Standing as still as still can be ! ! !" 
 — " Come hither, come hither, my little foot page, 
 And dance, my anguish to assuage ; 
 And be it jig, or waltz, or reel, 
 I care not, so it doth conceal 
 Tiie ghosts, that of a thousand dies, 
 Float evermore before mine eyes ; 
 
 And I, to make thee foot it gay, , 
 
 With nimble finger, by my fay. 
 Upon the tambourine will play!" &c. 
 
 But I must not give you too much of it, as it will spoil tlie in- 
 terest of the work, which will shortly appear in three octavo 
 volumes, printed uniformly, and with portraits ; something like 
 Peter's Letters. The imitation extends to three cantos, together 
 with an introductory epistle to my friend Dr. Scott. — Under the 
 head of Coleridge, you will find the continuation of Ohristahel,* 
 and the Auncient Waggonere ; both of which were ushered into 
 public notice by your delightful and discriminating work, togeth- 
 er with the following 
 
 * The continuation of Christabel, published in Blaclcioood, was written, not 
 by Maginn, but by the late D. M. Moir, the " Delta" of Mnga. — M.
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 235 
 
 FRAGMENT OF A VISION. 
 
 A dandy, on a velocipede,* 
 
 I saw in a vision sweet. 
 Along the highway making speed, 
 
 With his alternate feet. 
 Of a bright and celestial hue 
 Gleani'd beauteously his blue surtout; 
 While ivory buttons, in a row, 
 Show'd like the winter's cavern'd snow, 
 Which the breezy North 
 Drives sweeping forlh, 
 To lodge in the cave below: 
 Ontario's beaver, without demur, 
 To form his hat did lend its fur: 
 His frill was of the cambi-ic fine, 
 And his neckcloth starch'd, and aqniline; 
 And oh, the eye with pleasure dwells 
 On his white jean indescribables ; 
 And he throws the locks from his forehead fair, 
 And he pants, and pants, and pants for air; 
 What is the reason I cannot tell,^ 
 There is a cause — I know it well; 
 Too firmly bound — too tightly braced, 
 The corsets grasp his spider waist, 
 Till his coat tails are made to fly 
 Even from the back they glorify. 
 Look again, he is not there — 
 Vanish'd into the misty air! 
 Look again ! — do ye see him yet? 
 Ah no! the bailiff hath seized him for debt; 
 And, to and fro, like a restless ghost, 
 When peace within the grave is lost. 
 He paces as far, as far he should. 
 Within the bounds of Holyrood ! 
 
 His Lordship of Byron, I have not handled roughly enougli ; 
 I cannot yet forget the tower of Babel ; Avhat a speech ! — as if 
 we were a parcel of jackasses ! I shall yet have at him for it. 
 What do you think of The Galiongee, — A fragment of a Turk- 
 ish Tale ? 
 
 * The velocipede was a slight carriage on which a man sat astride, and had 
 his pedestrian motions rapidly accelerated by its large wheels. — M.
 
 236 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 THE GALIONGEE. 
 
 A Fragment of a Turkish Tale. 
 
 Adverlisement. — The Author of this tale hegs to inform the public, that the 
 scatteiecl fragments which it presents were collected from an improvisatore, 
 who ncited during the time that the author drank his fifth cup of Mocha with 
 that civilest of all gentlemen, Aii Pacha. 
 
 The Pacha sat in his divan, 
 
 With silver-sheathed ataghan ; 
 
 And call'd to him a Galiongee, 
 
 Come lately from the Euxine Sea 
 
 To Stamboul ; chains were on his feet, 
 
 And fetters on his hands were seen, 
 
 Because he was a Nazarene: 
 When, duly making reverence meet, 
 With haughty glance on that divan, 
 And curling lip, he thus began: 
 
 " B3' broad Phingari's silver light, 
 When sailing at the noon of night, 
 Bismilluh ! whom did we descry 
 
 But dark corsairs, who, bent on spoil. 
 
 Athwart the deep sea ever toil ! — 
 We know their blood-red flags on high: 
 The Capitan he call'd, belike. 
 With gesture proud, to bid us strike. 
 And told his Sonbachis to spare 
 Of not one scalp a single hair, 
 Though garbs of green showed Emirs there ! 
 It boots not, Paciia, to relate 
 
 Wiiat souls were sent to Eblis throne, 
 How Azrael's arrows scatler'd fate. 
 
 How wild, wet, wearied, and alone. 
 When all my crew were drench'd in blood, 
 Or floated lifeless on the flood, 
 I fonght, unawed, nor e'er thought I 
 To shout ' Amaun,' the craven's cry, — 
 
 I took my handkerchief to wipe 
 
 My burning brow, and then I took. 
 With placid hand, my long chibouque. 
 That is to say, my Turkish pipe. 
 And having clapp'd it in my cheek. 
 Disdaining ere a word to speak, 
 1 shouted to the pirate, ' Now, 
 You've fairly beat me, I allow,' " &c.
 
 FAMILIAE LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 237 
 
 Perhaps, — as I know that Chilcle Harold's Pilgrimage is one 
 of your first favorites, — you will find an account of his step- 
 brotlicr, Childe Paddy's* banishment to New Holland, more to 
 your taste. This is the commencement : 
 
 Oh ! mortal man, how varied is thy lot, 
 
 Tiiy ecstasies of joy and sorrow, how 
 Chill'd, sunlv, and servile art thou, or how hot 
 
 Flashes indignant beauty from thy brow ! 
 
 Times change, and empires fall ; the gods allow 
 Brief space for human contemplation, and 
 
 Above all partial dictates disavow 
 Unequal love ; how can we, at their hand, 
 For individual fate a gentler boon demand! 
 
 Childe Paddy parted from his father's cot ; 
 
 It was not castle proud, nor palace high, 
 Extraneous symmetry here glitter'd not, 
 
 But turf-built walls and filth did meet the eye; 
 
 Loud was the grumph and grumble from hog-stye ; 
 Swans gleam'd not here, as on the Leman lake. 
 
 But goose and ducklings, famed for gabbling cry. 
 With quack, quack, quack, did make the roofs to shake, 
 Tin in their utmost holes the wondering rats did quake ! 
 
 He thought of father, whom he loved, and left; 
 
 He thought of mother, at her booming wheel; 
 He thought of sister, of his care bereft ; 
 
 He thought of brethren dear; and, to conceal 
 
 The endless pangs that o'er his brain did reel. 
 As through the vale his pensive way he took. 
 
 For fear his onward purpose would congeal 
 He sung, while pacing with right-forward look, 
 " Sweet Kitty of Coleraine," and " Fair of Donabrooke !" 
 
 I rejoice that your prophecy, as to the popularity of Hogg's 
 Tales, has been abundantly verified. Natural power and genius 
 will fight their way, in spite of opposition, and " disdainful of 
 help or hindrance." I doubt not that his better half has had a 
 hand in the purgation of the new edition. Give my compliments 
 to him; tell him I shall never forget the kindness I experienced 
 at Altrive Lake ; and, above all, ask him how he likes the fol- 
 lowing stanzas, the opening of a ballad, as long as " Kirkma- 
 
 * It was first written " Childe Raddy," but I was afraid of angering the 
 Scotsman. — M. O.
 
 238 THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 breck," that celebrated modern Timon, or rather she-Timon, or 
 woman hater. 
 
 Theyre wals ane Brounie offe mucle faime 
 
 Tliatte ussit too cumme too ane aulde fairnie housse 
 
 Aiule evir the maydes fro theyre beddes came, 
 
 Alle theyre werke wals dune, soo cannye and douce. 
 
 The cauppis wure cleanit ; the yerne wals spunne, 
 
 Ande the parritche aye maide forre the Guide guidman, 
 
 The kye wure milkit, the yill wals runne, 
 
 Ande shininge lyke goude wals the ould brasse pan. 
 
 Aiide mickle theye wonderit, and mair theye thocht, 
 But neivir ane wurde too theyre minny spake theye, 
 
 Theye lukit aye too the braas theye hadde cofft. 
 Too buske theyre hayre, and to maike theme gaye. 
 
 Thenne outte spake Jennye, the youngeste ane, 
 " I'm shure to mye Jocke itte wull gie delyghte, 
 
 Ande maike the laddye a' fidginge faine, 
 
 Too see the luffes offe mye handes soe whyle." 
 
 Thenne outte spake Kirstene, as doune she satte 
 
 Before the glasse toe kaim herre hayre, 
 "Oh! luke," quoth she, "I amme gettinge soe fatte, 
 
 Tliatte I offe idlesse muste beware. 
 
 " The neiburs theye wille kenne noe mee, 
 
 Forre I'm scrimply aible to gaung aboutte, 
 Iffe I gette on soe, ye wulle brieflye see 
 
 A hurlye cofft toe carrye mee outte," &c. 
 
 Speaking of Wordsworth, what he is dreammg about 1 The 
 pubUshed part of the Excursion does not extend to a week, and 
 we have had no more of it for the last seven years ; if the poet's 
 life and peregrinations are to occupy an equally proportionate 
 space, published at the same distance of time, the world may 
 expect to see the conclusion of the work at much about the same 
 time when Blackwood's Magazine intends retiring from public 
 notice, that is to say, somewhere about the year 3000. The 
 following is a small portion of a fifty-page episode. It is entitled 
 
 THE KAIL POT. 
 
 If e'er, in pensive guise, thy steps have stray'd 
 At eve or morn, along that lofty street. 
 Yclept the Canongatc, exalt thine eyes.
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 239 
 
 AikI ]() ! between tliee nnd the azure sky, 
 Dangling in negro blackness beautiful, 
 A kail pot hangs, upon an iron bar 
 Suspended, and by iron chains hung down. 
 Beneath it yawns a threshold, like the den 
 Of Cacus, giant old, or like the caves 
 Of sylvan satyrs in the forests green ; — 
 There enter, and, amid his porter butts. 
 In conscious wisdom bold, sits Nathan Goose, 
 Worshipping the muses and a mug of ale! 
 
 Sweet are the songs of Nathan Goose, and strong 
 Yea! potent is the liquor that he sells; 
 On many a cold and icy winter night. 
 When stars were sparkling in the deep bine sky, 
 Have, circling round his board, a jovial throng. 
 Tippled until the drowsy chime of twelve. 
 Strange has it seem'd to me, that we, who breathe 
 Vapours, as watery as the cooling drops 
 Of Ryilal Mere, should drink combustibles, 
 And perish not; yet, thereby, of the soul 
 The cogitations are disturb'd ; its dreams 
 Are hollows by reality and time 
 Fulfill'd not, and the waking spirit mourns. 
 When shines the sun above the eastern sea, — 
 The ocean seen from Black Comb's summit high, 
 And throws his yellow light against the pane 
 Of chamber window, — window deep embower'd 
 With honey-suckle blossoms ; — o'er the wrecks 
 Of such fantastical, and inane stuflf, 
 Shadows, and dreams, and visions of the night. — 
 Then follow headaches dreadful, voriiitings 
 Of undigested biscuit, mingled with 
 The sour and miserable commixture of 
 Hot aqua vitse, with the mountain lymph, — 
 If city water haply be so call'd, — 
 The lymph of Fountain-well, hard by the shop 
 Where seeds and roots are sold, above whose door 
 The black-eyed eagle spreads his golden wings. 
 
 Hard is the lot of him, whom evil fates 
 Have destined to a way of life unmeet; 
 Whose genius and internal strength are clogg'd 
 By drudgeiy, and the rubs of common men. 
 But I have gazed upon thee, Nathan Goose, 
 Gazed on the workings of thy inward soul — 
 Hail'd with deligiit thy planet in the sky. 
 And mid the constellations planted thee ' &c.
 
 240 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 As you are one of the prime admirers of the Lyrical Ballads, 
 as who, with the smallest pretensions to poetical taste, does not 
 acknowledge most of them to be extremely fine, and studded 
 over with the very pearls of poetry, — I have copied over for 
 you a lyrical ballad of the true breed. I do not know but that 
 you Avill like it almost as well as the Wagoner, or Peter Bell. 
 
 BILLY BLINN. 
 
 I knew a man that died for love, 
 
 His name, T ween, was Billy Blinn ; 
 His hack was hump'd, liis hair was gray. 
 And, on a sultry summer day. 
 
 We found him floating in the linn. 
 
 Once as he stood before his door. 
 
 Smoking, and wondering who should pass, 
 
 Then Inindling past him in a cart 
 
 Came Susan Foy, she won his heart, 
 She was a gallant lass. 
 
 And Billy Blinn conceal'd the flame 
 
 That burn'd, and scorch'd his very blood j 
 
 But often was he heard to sigh. 
 
 And with his sleeve he wiped his eye. 
 In a dejected mood. 
 
 A party of recruiters came 
 
 To wile our cottars, man and boy ; 
 Their coats were red, their cuffs were blue, 
 And boldly, without more ado. 
 
 Off with the troop went Susan Foy ! 
 
 When poor old Billy henrd the news. 
 
 He tore his hairs so thin and gray; 
 He beat the hump upon his hack. 
 And ever did he cry, " Alack, 
 
 Olion, oh me! — alas a-day !" 
 
 His nights were spent in slee]ilessness, 
 
 His days in s'orrow and despair; 
 It could not last — this inward strife; 
 The lover he grew tired of life, 
 
 And saunter'd here and there. 
 
 At length, 'twas on a moonlight eve, 
 
 The skies were blue, the winds were still ; 
 He wander'd from his wi-etched hut
 
 FAMILIAR LETTER FROM THE ADJUTANT. 241 
 
 And, though he left the door unshut, 
 He sought the lonely hill. 
 
 He look'd ii]ion the lovely moon, 
 
 He look'd upon the twinkling' stars i 
 "How peaceful all is there," ho said, 
 " No noisy tuniult there is bred, 
 
 And no intestine wars." 
 
 But miseiy overcame his heart, 
 
 For all was waste and war within ; 
 And rushing forward with a leap. 
 O'er crags a hundred fathoms steep, 
 
 He plunged into the linn. 
 
 Wo found him when the morning sun 
 
 Shone brightly from the eastern sky; 
 Upon his back ho was afloat — 
 His hat was sailing like a boat — 
 
 His staff was found on high. 
 
 01), reckless woman, Susan Foy, 
 
 To leave the poor, old, loving man, 
 And with a soldier, young and gay. 
 Thus harlot-liko to run away 
 
 To India or .Tapun. 
 
 Poor Billy BliiU!, with hair so white, 
 
 Poor Billy* Blinii was stiff and cold; 
 Will Adze he made a coffin neat. 
 Wo placed him in it head and feet. 
 
 And laid him in the mould! 
 
 1 dare say you will suppose that there is no end to my prosing. 
 But hold, my pen ! — For the present I am determined to have 
 done. As to Southey, Lamb, Milman, Croly, Shelley, Wastle, 
 Wilson, Campbell, Hunt, Montgomery, Bowles, Dr. Scott, Frere, 
 Rogers, Bloomfield, Herbert, Thurlow, Willison Glass, &c., you 
 shall have more of them in my next; and meantime believe me, 
 more than ever has been yet professed by 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Morgan Odoherty. 
 
 CoLKRAiNK, Red Cow Tnii, April 30. 
 
 Vol. I. — 11
 
 242 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Ini0l}oa3cn. 
 
 I. 
 
 I CAFE not a fig for a flagon of flip, 
 
 Or a wliistliiig can of lumbo ; 
 But my tongue through whisky punch will slip 
 
 As njmhle as Hurlothrumbo. 
 So put the spirits on tlie board, 
 
 And give the lemons a squet-zoi". 
 And we'll mix a jomm, by the Lord! 
 
 Tiiat will nialie yonr worship sneeze, sir. 
 
 II. 
 The French, no doubt, are famous souls, 
 
 I love them for their brandy ; 
 In rum and sweet tobacco rolls, 
 
 Jamaica men are handy. 
 The big-breech'd Dutch in juniper gin, 
 
 I own, are very knowing; 
 But are rum, gin, brandy, worth a pin. 
 
 Compared with Inishowen ? 
 
 III. 
 Though here with a Lord, 'tis jolly and fine. 
 
 To tumble down Lacryma Christi, 
 And over a skin of Italy's wine 
 
 To get a little misty ; 
 Yet not the blood of the Bourdeaux grape, 
 
 The finest grape-juice going, 
 Nor clammy Constantia, the pride of the Cape, 
 
 Prefer I to Inishowen.* 
 
 i^om to V300 1 
 
 Would you woo a young virgin of fifteen years. 
 
 You must tickle her fancy with Sweets and Dears, 
 
 Ever toying and playing, and sweetly, sweetly, 
 
 Sing a love-sonnet and charm her ears — 
 
 Wittily, prettily, talk her down — 
 
 Phrase her and praise her, fiiir or brown — 
 
 Soothe her and smooth her, 
 
 And tease her and please her, 
 
 Ah ! touch but her fancy, and all's your own.t 
 
 * This song, purporting to have been chanted to Byron, by Odoherty, durin<: 
 a jollification at Pisa, appeared in The Noctes, for .Inly, 1S22. — M. 
 
 • From The Noctes for .Mnrch 1824.
 
 PAEODY ON BYRON. 243 
 
 aijere's not a Son ll)at £ife can igiwc,* ^c. 
 1. 
 
 There's not a joy that wine can give like that it takes away, 
 When slight intoxication yields to drunkenness the ssvay, 
 'Tis not that youth's smooth check its blush surrenders to the nose, 
 But the stomach turns, the forehead hums, and all our pleasure goes. 
 
 Then the few, who still can keep their chairs amid the smash'd decanters, 
 Who wanton still in witless jokes, and laugh at pointless banters — 
 The magnet of their course is gone — for, let them try to walk, 
 Their legs, they speedily will find as jointless as their talk. 
 
 3. 
 
 Then the mmial hntness of the brain, like hell itself, is burning, 
 
 It cannot feel, nor dream, nor think — 'tis whizzing, blazing, turning — 
 
 The heavy u-el, or port, or rum, has mingled with our tears, 
 
 And if by chance we're weeping drunk, each drop our cheek-bone scars. 
 
 4. 
 Though fun still Jloje from fluent lips,] and jokes confuse our noddles 
 Through midnight hours, while punch bar powers insidiously enfuddles, 
 'Tis but as ivy leaves were worn by Bacchanals of yore. 
 To make them still look fresh and gay while rolling on the floor. 
 
 5. 
 
 Oh I could /walk as I have walk'd, or see as I have seen ; 
 Or even roll as I have done on many a carpet green — 
 As port at Highland inn seems sound, all corkish though it be, 
 So would I the Borachio kiss, and get blind drunk with lhee4 
 
 * The actual title of these " Stanzas for Music" (as they are called in Byron's 
 Poems,) is not correctly given here. The first stanza runs thus : 
 " There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, 
 When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay; 
 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, 
 But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past." 
 These lines bear date March, 1815. — M. 
 
 t The ipsisima verba are "Though wit may flash from fluent lips;^' — M. 
 X This parody was put into Byron's mouth, as chanted by him at the sympo- 
 sium with Odoherty, vJL Pisa, in July, 1822. — M.
 
 244 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 'QLid in vain to romplain. 
 1. 
 
 'Tis ill vain 
 To complain, 
 In a jiielanclioly strain, 
 Of the days that are gone, and will never come again. 
 Be we gay, 
 \Vhile W'c may, 
 At whatever time of day, 
 Be our locks berry brown, or mottled o'er with gray. 
 Be our locks berry brown, or mottled o'er with gray. 
 
 We have laughed, 
 We have quaffed, 
 Wc have raked it fore and aft. 
 But nut of pleasure's bowl have not emptied all the draught. 
 Never mind 
 Days behind. 
 But still before the wind, 
 Float after jolly souls, full flasks, and lasses kind. 
 Float after jolly souls, full flasks, and lasses kind.* 
 
 Cljanson a J3oire. 
 1- 
 
 Time and we should swiftly pass ; 
 
 He the hour-glass, we the glass. — 
 
 Drink ! yon beam which shines so bi-ight 
 
 Soon will sink in starless night : 
 
 Ere it sink, boys, ere it sink — 
 
 Drink it dim, boys! drink, drink, drink! 
 
 2. 
 
 Drink before it be ton late — 
 
 Snatch the hour you may from fate ; 
 
 Hei-e alone true wisdom lies, 
 
 To be merry 's to bo wise. — 
 
 Ere ye sink, hoys — ere ye sink — 
 
 Drink ye blind, boys! drink, drink, drink !t 
 
 * This appeared in The Noctes, for A\i?:ust, 1823. — M. 
 t From The Noctes, Mnrch, 18-23. — I\I,
 
 PARODY ON MOORB. 245 
 
 S0U0 of a f alien ^iigcl oner a J3ou)l of ^unt'-tJund). 
 
 By T. M., Esq. 
 
 Hkaf on more coal there, 
 
 And keep the glass moving, 
 The frost nips my nose, 
 
 Tlioiigh my heart glows with loving. 
 Here's the dear crcnture, 
 
 No slvylights — a bumper; 
 He who leaves heeltaps 
 I vole him a mumper. 
 
 With hey cow ramble O 
 
 Whack! populorum, 
 Merrily, merry men, 
 Push round the jorum. 
 
 What are Heaven's pleasures 
 
 That so very sweet ai'e ? 
 Singing from psalters, 
 
 111 long or short metre. 
 Flanked on a wet cloud 
 
 Without any breeches, 
 Just like the Celtic,* 
 
 Met to make speeches. 
 
 With hey cow rumble, &.C. 
 
 Wide is the difference. 
 
 My own boozing bullies. 
 Here the round punch-bowl 
 
 Heap'd to the full is. 
 Then if some wise one 
 
 Thinks that up "yonder" 
 Is pleasant as we are. 
 
 Why — he's in a blunder. 
 
 With hey cow rumble, &c.t 
 
 * The Celtic Society, at their annual dinner, always wore the kilt. — M. 
 + First published in The Noctks for July, 1823. It is a parody on Moore — 
 and not a very good one. — M.
 
 246 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 |3ocoatrantc.* 
 
 I DO not care a farthing about any man, woman, or child, in 
 the world. You think that I am joking, Jemmy ; but you are 
 mistaken. What ! you look at me again with those honest eyes 
 of yours staring Avith wonder, and making a demi-pathctic, demi- 
 angry appeal for an exception in your favour. Well, Jemmy, I 
 do not care about you, my honest fellow, so uncork the other 
 bottle. 
 
 Did you ever see me out of humour in your life for the tenth 
 part of a second? — Never, so help me, God ! — Did you ever 
 hear me speak ill of another? I might, perhaps, have cracked 
 a joke — indeed, I have cracked a good, many such in my time 
 — at a man's expense behind his back; but never have I said, 
 anything which I would not say to his face, or what I would 
 not take from him with treble hardness of recoil, if it so pleased 
 him to return it; but real bona Jicle evil-speaking was never ut- 
 tered by me. I never quarrelled with any one. You are going 
 to put me in mind of my duel with Captain Maxwell. I ac- 
 knowledge I fought it, and fired three shots. What then ? 
 Could. I avoid it ? I was no more angry Avitli him, Avhen I sent 
 the message, than I was at the moment of my birth. Duelling 
 is an absurd custom of the country, Avhich I must comply Avith 
 Avhen occasion requires. The occasion had turned up, and I 
 fought of course. Never Avas I happier than Avhen I felt the 
 blood trickling oA'er my shoulders — for the wise laws of honour 
 Avere satisfied, and. I Avas rid of the cursed trouble. I Avas sick 
 of the pirppyism of punctilio, and the booby legislation of the 
 seconds, and Avas glad to escape from it by a scratch. I made 
 it up Avith MaxAvell, Avho Avas an honest, though a hot-headed 
 and obstinate man — and you know I Avas executor to his AA^ill. 
 Indeed, he dined Avith me the very day-week after the duel. 
 
 * This very peculiar composition, in vvliicli deep feeling' is mingled with an 
 affectation of contempt for men, gods, and columns, (" Homines, Dii, et coUim- 
 nae,") wns published in Blackwood for August, 1823, and was referred to, 
 more than once, by Maginn, in proof of his ability to be intense, as well as 
 amusing. — M.
 
 POCOCURANTE. 247 
 
 Yet, spite of this equanimity, I repeat it, that I do not care for 
 any human being on earth, (the present company always ex- 
 cepted,) more than I care for one of those filberts which you are 
 cracking with such laudible assiduity. 
 
 Yes — it is true — I have borne myself towards my family un- 
 exceptionably, as the Avorld has it. I married off my sisters, 
 sent my brothers to the colleges, and did what was fair for my 
 mother. But I shall not be hypocrite enough to pretend to high 
 motives for so doing. My father's death left them entirely to 
 me, and what could I do with them 1 Turn them out 1 That 
 would be absurd, and just as absurd to retain them at home with- 
 out treating them properly. They were w/y family. My own 
 comforts would have been materially invaded by any other line 
 of conduct. I therefore executed the filial and fraternal affec- 
 tions in a manner which will be a fine topic of panegyric for my 
 obituary. God help the idiots who write such things ! T7ie>/ 
 to talk of motives, and feelings, and the impulses that sway the 
 human heart ! They, whose highest ambition it is to furnish 
 provender, at so much a line, for magazine or newspaper. Yet 
 £i"om them shall I receive the tribute of a tear. The world shall 
 be infomied in due time, and I care not how soon, that " Died 
 at his house, &c. &c. a gentleman, exemplary in every relation 
 of life, whether we consider him as a son, a brother, a friend, or 
 a citizen. His heart," and so on to the end of the fiddle faddle. 
 The winding up of my family affairs, you know, is, that I have 
 got rid of them all ; that I pay the good people a visit once 
 a-month, and ask 'them to a humdrum dinner on my birth-day, 
 which you are perhaps aware occurs but once a-year, I am 
 alone. I feel that I am alone. 
 
 My politics — what then ? I am, externally at least, a Tory, 
 d toule outrance, because my father and my grandfather (and I 
 cannot irace my genealogy any higher) were so before me. Be- 
 sides, I think every gentleman should be a Tory ; there is an 
 easiness, a suavity of mind, engendered by Toryism, which it is 
 vain for you to expect from fretful Whiggery, or bawling Eadi- 
 calism, and such should be a strong distinctive feature in every 
 gentleman's character. And I admit, that, in my youth, I did 
 many queer things, and said many violent and nonsensical mat-
 
 248 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 ters. But that fervour is gone. I am still outside the same ; 
 but inside how different ! I laugh to scorn the nonsense I hear 
 vented about me in the clubs which I frequent. The zeal about 
 nothings, the bustle about stuff, the fears and the precautions 
 against fancied dangers, the indignation against writings which 
 no decent man thinks of reading, or against speeches Avhich are 
 but the essence of stupidity ; in short, the whole tempest in a 
 tea-pot appears to me to be ineffably ludicrous. I join now and 
 then, nay very often, in these discussions ; why should not I ] 
 Am 'I not possessed of the undoubted liberties of a Briton, invest- 
 ed with the full privilege of talking nonsense ? And, if any of 
 my associates laugh inside at me, why, I think them quite right. 
 But I have dirtied my fingers with ink, you say, and daubed 
 other people's faces with them. I admit it. My pen has been 
 guilty of various political jeux d'esprit, but let me whisper it, 
 Jemmy, on hotli sides. Don't start, it is not worth while. My 
 Tory quizzes I am susjiected of j suspected I say, for I am not 
 such a goose as to let them be any more than mere matters of 
 suspicion ; but of quizzes against Tories I am no more thought 
 guilty than I am of petty larceny. Yet such is the case. I 
 write with no ill feeling ; public men or people who thrust them- 
 selves before the public in any "vray, I just look on as phantoms 
 of the imagination, as things to throw off common-places about. 
 You know how I assassinated Jack ****, in the song which you 
 transcribed for me ; how it spread in thousands, to his great an- 
 noyance. "Well, on Wednesday last, ho and I supped tete-a-tete, 
 and a jocular fellow he is. It was an accidental rencounter — 
 he was sulky at first, but I laughed and sung him into good 
 humour. When the second bottle had loosened his tongue, he 
 looked at me most sympathetically, and said, May I ask you a 
 question? — A thousand, I replied, provided you do not expect 
 me to answer them. — Ah, he cried, it was a shame for you to 
 abuse me the way you did, and all for nothing ; but, hang it, let 
 bygones be bygones. — You are too pleasant a fellow to quarrel 
 with. I told him he appeared to be under a mistake. — He 
 shook his head — emptied his bottle, and we staggered home in 
 great concord. In point of fact, men of sense think not of such 
 things, and mingle freely in society as if they never occurred.
 
 POCOCUKANTE. 249 
 
 Why then should I be supposed to liave any feelhig whatever, 
 whether of auger or pleasure al5out them ? 
 
 My friends ? Where are they? Ay, Jemmy, I do under- 
 stand what that pressure of my hand means. But where is the 
 other? Nowhere! Acquaintances I have in himdreds — boon 
 companions in dozens — fellows to whom I make myself as 
 agreeable as I can, and whose society gives me ])leasure. 
 There's Jack Meggot — the best joker in the world — Will 
 Thomson — an unexceptionable ten-bottle man — John Morti- 
 mer, a singer of most renowned social qualities — there's — but 
 what need I enlarge the catalogue ? You know the men I 
 mean. I live with them, and that right gaily, but Avould one 
 of them crack a joke the less, drink a glass the less, sing a song 
 the less, if I died before morning. Not one — nor do I blame 
 them, for, if they were engulfed in Tartarus, I should just go 
 through my usual daily round — keep moving in the same mo- 
 notonous tread-mill of life, with other companions to help me 
 through, as steadily as I do now. The friends of my boyhood 
 are gone — ay — all — all gone ! — I have lost the old familiar 
 faces, and shall not try for others to replace them. I am now 
 happy with a mail-coach companion, whom I never saw before, 
 and never will see again. My cronies come like shadows, so 
 depart. Do you remember the story of Abon Hassen, in some 
 of the Oriental tales ? He was squandering a line property on 
 some hollow friends, when he was advised to try their friendship 
 by pretending poverty, and asking their assistance. It was re- 
 fused, and he determined never to see, them more — never to make 
 a friend — nay, not even an acquaintance ; but to sit, according 
 to the custom of the East, by the w^iy-side, and invite to his 
 board the three first passers-by, Avitli whom he spent the night 
 in festive debauchery, making it a rule never to ask the same 
 persons a second time. My life is almost the same — true it is 
 that I know the exterior conformation, and the peculiar habits 
 of those with Avliom I associate, but our hearts are ignorant of 
 one another. They vibrate not together ; they are ready to 
 enter into the same communication, Avith any passer-by. Nay, 
 perhaps, Hassen's plan was more social. lie was relieved from 
 inquiries as to the character of his table-mates. Be thev fair, 
 
 11*
 
 250 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 be tliey foul, they were nothing to him. I am toraientecl out of 
 my life by such punctilios as 1 daily must submit to. I wonder 
 you keep company, says a friend — friend! well, no matter — ^ 
 with R. He is a scoundrel — he is suspected of having cheated 
 fifteen years ago at play, he drinks ale, he fought shy in a duel 
 business, he is a "Whig — a Radical, a Muggletonian, a jumper, 
 a moderate man, a Jacobin ; he asked twice for soup, he wrote 
 a libel, his father was a low attorney, nobody knows him in good 
 society, &c. &c. &c. Why, what is it to me ? I care not 
 whether he broke every commandment in the decalogue, pro- 
 vided he be a pleasant felloAv, and that I am not mixed up with 
 his offences. But the world will so mix me up in spite of my- 
 self. Burns used to say, the best company he was ever in was 
 the company of professed blackguards. Perhaps he was right. 
 I dare not try. 
 
 My early companions I did care for, and where are they ? 
 Poor Tom Benson, he was my class-fellow at school ; we occu- 
 pied the same rooms in college, we shared our studies, our 
 amusements, our flirtations, our follies, our dissipations together. 
 A more honourable or upright creature never existed. Well, 
 sir, he had an uncle, lieutenant-colonel of a cavalry regiment, 
 and at his request Tom bought a coruetcy m the corps. I re- 
 member the grand-looking fellow strutting about in the full 
 splendour of his yet imspotted regimentals, the cynosure of the 
 bright eyes of the country town in which he resided. He came 
 to London, and then joined his regiment. All was well for a 
 while ; but he had always an imfortunate itch for play. In our 
 little circle it did him no great harm ; but his new companions 
 played high, and far too skilfully for Tom — perhaps there was 
 roguery, or perhaps there was not — I never inquired. At all 
 events, he lost all his ready money. He then drew liberally on 
 his family; he lost that too ; in short, poor Tom at last staked 
 his commission, and lost it Avith the rest. This, of course, could 
 not be concealed from the uncle, who gave him a severe lecture, 
 but procured him a commission in an infantry regiment destined 
 for Spain. He was to join it without delay ; but the infatuated 
 felloAv again risked himself, and lost the infantry commission also. 
 He now was ashamed or afraid to face his uncle, and enlisted
 
 POCOCURANTE. 251 
 
 (for he was a splendid looking- young man, Avho was instantly- 
 accepted,) as a private soldier in the twenty-sixth foot. I sup- 
 pose that he found his habits were too refined and too firmly- 
 fixed to allow him to be satisfied with the scanty pay, and coarse 
 food, and low company, of an infantry soldier. It is certain, 
 that he deserted in a fortnight after enlistment. The measure 
 of poor Tom's degradation was not yet filled up. He had not 
 a farthing- when he left the twenty-sixth. He went to his inicle's 
 at an hour Avhen he knew that he would not be at home, and 
 was ■with difficulty admitted by the servant, who recognized him. 
 He persuaded him at last that he m.eant to throw himself on the 
 mercy of his uncle, and the man, who loved him, — everybody 
 of all degrees who knew him loved him, — consented to his ad- 
 mission. I am almost ashamed to go on. He broke open his 
 uncle's escritoire, and took from it whatever money it contained 
 — a hundred pounds or thereabouts — and slunk out of the 
 house. Heavens! what were my feelings when I heard this — 
 Avhen I saw him proclaimed in the newspapers as a deserter, and 
 a thief! A thief ! — Tom Benson a thief ! I could not credit 
 the intelligence of my eyes or my ears. He Avhom 1 knew 
 only five months before — for so brief had his career been — 
 would have turned with scorn and disgust from any action de- 
 viating a hair's-breadth from the highest honour. How he spent 
 the next six months of his life, I know not ; but about the end 
 of that period a letter was left at my door by a messenger, Avho 
 immediately disappeared. It was from him. It was couched in 
 terms of the most abject self-condenniation, and the bitterest re- 
 morse. He declared he was a ruined man in character, in for- 
 tune, in happiness, in everything, and conjured me, for the sake 
 of former friendship, to let him have five guineas, Avhich he said 
 Avould take him to a place of safety. From the description of 
 the messenger, who, Tom told me in his note, would return in 
 an hour, I guessed it was himself. When the time came, which 
 he had put off to a moment of almost complete darkness, I 
 opened the door to his fearful rap. It was he — I knew him at 
 a glance, as the lamp flashed over his face — and, uncertain as 
 Avas the light, it Avas bright enough to let me see that he Avas 
 squalid, and in rags ; that a fearful and ferocioiis suspicion, Avhich
 
 252 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 spoke volumes, as to tlie life he Lad lately led, lurked in his 
 side-looking eyes ; those eyes that a year before spoke nothing 
 hut joy and courage, and that a premature grayness had covered 
 with pie-bald patches the once glossy black locks Avhich strag- 
 gled over his unwashed face, or through his tattered hat. 
 
 I had that he asked, — perhaps more — in a paper in my 
 hand. I put it into his. I had barely time to say " Tom !" 
 when he caught my hand, kissed it with burning lips, exclaimed 
 " Don't speak to me — I am a wretch !" and, bursting from the 
 grasp with which I wished to detain him, fled with the speed of 
 an arrow down the street, and vanished into a lane. Pursuit 
 was hopeless. Many years elapsed, and I heard not of him — 
 no one heard of him. But about two years ago I was at a 
 coffee-house in the Strand, when an officer of what they called 
 the Patriots of South America, staggered into the room. He 
 was very drunk. His tawdry and tarnished uniform proclaimed 
 the service to which he belonged, and all doubt on the subject 
 was removed by his conversation. It Avas nothing but a tissue 
 of curses on Bolivar and his associates, who, he asserted, had 
 seduced him from his country, ruined his prospects, robbed him, 
 cheated him, and insulted him. How true these reproaches 
 miglit have been I knew not, nor do I care, but a thought struck 
 me that Tom might have been of this army, and I inquired, as, 
 indeed, I did of everybody coming from a foreign country, if he 
 knew anything of a man of the name of Benson. " Do you 1" 
 
 — stammered out the drunken patriot — " I do," was my reply. 
 
 — "Do you care about him?" again asked the officer. "I did 
 
 — I do," again I returned. "Why then," said he, " take a 
 short stick in your hand, and step across to Valparaiso, there 
 you will find him two feet under ground, snugly wrap up in a 
 blanket. I was his sexton myself, and had not time to dig him 
 a deeper grave, and no way of getthig a stouter coffin. It Avill 
 just do all as well. Poor fellow, it was all the clothes he had 
 for many a day before." I was shocked at the recital, but Holmes 
 was too much intoxicated to pursue the subject any farther. I 
 called on him in the morning, and learned that Benson had 
 joined as a private soldier hi this desperate service, under the 
 name of Maberly — that he speedily rose to a command — was
 
 POCOCURANTE. 253 
 
 distinguisliecl. foi* doing desperate actions, jn Avhicli lie seemed 
 qnite reckless of life — had, however, been treated with consider- 
 able ingratitude — never was paid a dollar — had lost his bag- 
 gage — was compelled to part with almost all his wearing ap- 
 parel for subsistence, and had just made his way to the sea-side, 
 purposing to escape to Jamaica, Avhen he sunk, overcome by- 
 hunger and fatigue. He kept the secret of his name till the last 
 moment, when he confided it, and a part of his unhappy history, 
 to Holmes. Such was the end of Benson, a man born to high 
 expectations, of cultivated mind, considerable genius, generous 
 heart, and honourable purposes. 
 
 Jack Dallas I became acquainted with at Brazen Nose. 
 There was a time that I thought I Avould have died for him — 
 and, I believe, that his feelings towards me were equally warm. 
 Ten years ago we were the Damon and Pythias — the Pylades 
 and Orestes of our day. Yet I lost him by a jest. He was 
 wooing most desperately a very pretty girl, equal to him in rank, 
 but rather meagre in the purse. He kept it, however, -a pro- 
 found secret from his friends. By accident I found it out, and 
 when I next saw him, I began to quiz him. He was surprised 
 at the discovery, and very sore at the quizzing. He answered 
 so testily, that I proceeded to annoy him. He became more and 
 more sour, I more and more vexatious in my jokes. It was 
 quite wrong on my part ; but God knows I meant nothing by it. 
 I did not knoAV that he had just parted with his father, who had 
 refused all consent to the match, adding injurious insinuations 
 about the mercenary motives of the young lady. Dallas had 
 been defending her, but in vain ; and then, while in this mood, 
 did I choose him as the butt of my silly witticisms. At last 
 something I said — some mere piece of nonsense — nettled him 
 so much, that he made a blow at me. I arrested his arm, and 
 cried, "Jack, you would have been very sorry had you put your 
 intentions into effect." He coloured as if ashamed of his vio- 
 lence, but remained sullen and silent for a moment, and then left 
 the room. We never have spoke since. He shortly after went 
 abroad, and Ave Avere thus kept from meeting and explaining. 
 On his retinn, Ave joined different coteries, and Avere of different 
 sides in politics. In fact, I did not see him for nearly seA^eu
 
 254 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 years until last Monday, when he passed me, with his wife — a 
 different person from his eai-ly passion, the girl on account of 
 whom we quarrelled — leaning on his arm. I looked at him, 
 but he bent down his eyes, pretending to speak to Mrs. Dallas. 
 So be it. 
 
 Then there was my brother — my own poor brother, one year 
 younger than myself. The verdict — commonly a matter of 
 course — must have been true in his case. "What an inward rev- 
 olution that must have been, which coi;ld have bent that gay 
 and free spirit, that joyous and buoyant soul, to think of self- 
 destruction. But I cannot speak of poor Artlmr. These were 
 my chief friends, and I lost the last of them about ten years 
 ago ; and since that time I know no one, the present company 
 excepted, for whom I care a farthing. Perhaps, if they had 
 lived with me as long as my other companions, I would have 
 been as careless about them, as I am about Will Thomson, Jack 
 Megget, or my younger brothers. I am often inclined to think, 
 that my feelings towards them are but warmed by the remem- 
 bered fervour of boyhood, and made romantic by distance of 
 time. I am pretty sure, indeed, that it is so. And, if we could 
 call up Benson innocent from the mould of South America — 
 Could restore pooi-, dear Arthur — make Dallas forget his folly 
 — and let them live together again in my society, I should be 
 speedily indifferent about them too. My mind is as if slumber- 
 ing, quite wrapped up in itself, and never wakes but to act a 
 part. I rise in the morning, to eat, drink, talk — to say what I 
 do not think, to advocate questions which I care not for — to 
 join companions Avhom I value not, to indulge in sensual pleas- 
 ures Avhieh I despise — to waste my hours in trifling amusements, 
 of more trifling business, and to retire to my bed perfectly in- 
 different as to whether I am ever again to see the shining of the 
 sun. Yet, is my outside gay, and my conversation sprightly. 
 Within I generally stagnate, but sometimes there comes a twinge, 
 short indeed, but bitter. Then it is that I am, to all appearance, 
 most volatile, most eager in dissipation ; but could you lift tlie 
 covering which shrouds the secrets of my bosom, you would, 
 see that, like the inmates of the hall of Eblis, my very beart 
 was fire.
 
 POCOCUKANTE, 255 
 
 Ha — ha — ha! — say it agam, Jemmy — say it again, man — 
 do not be afraid. Ha — ha — ha! — too good — too good, upon 
 honoiu", I was crossed in love ! / in love. You make me laugh 
 — excuse my rudeness — ha — ha — ha! No, no, thank God, 
 though I committed follies of various kinds, I escaped iliat fool 
 ery, I see my prosing has infected you, has made you dull. 
 Quicjk, unwire the champagne — let us drive spirits into i;s by 
 its generous tide. We arc growing muddy over the claret, i 
 in love ! Banish all gloomy thoughts, 
 
 "A liglit heart and a thin pair of breeches 
 Goes thoiough ihe world, my brave boys." 
 
 "What say you to that? We should drown all care in the bowl 
 — fie on the plebeian word, — we shoiild dispel it by the spark- 
 ling bubbles of wine, fit to be drank by the gods ; that is your 
 only true philosophy. 
 
 " Let us drink and be merry. 
 
 Dance, laugh, and rejoice, 
 Wilh claret and sherry. 
 
 Theorbo and voice. 
 "This changeable world 
 
 To our joys is unjust i 
 All pleasure's ujicertain. 
 
 So down with your dust. 
 "In pleasure dispose 
 
 Your pounds, sliillings, and pence, 
 For we all shall be nothing - 
 
 A hundiod years hence." 
 
 What, not another bottle ? — Only one more ! — Do not be so 
 
 obstinate. Well, if you must, why, all I can say is, good night. 
 ******* 
 
 He is gone. A kind animal, but a fool, exactly what is called 
 the best creature in the world. I have that affection for him 
 that I have for Towler, and I believe his feelings toAvards me 
 are like Towler's, an animal love of one whom he looks up to. 
 An eating, drinking, good-humoured, good-natiu-ed varlet, who 
 laughs at my jokes, M^hen I tell him they are to be laughed at, 
 sees things exactly in the light that I see them in, backs me in 
 my assertions, and bets on me at whist. I had ratlier than ten 
 thousand pounds be in singleness of soul, in thoughtlessness of
 
 256 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 brain, in honesty of intention, in solid contented ignorance, such 
 as Jemmy Musgrove. That I cannot be. N'importc. 
 
 Booby as he is, he did hit a string which I thought had lost 
 its vibration — had become indi;rated like all my other feelings. 
 Pish ! It is well that I am alone. Surely the claret has made 
 me maudlin, and the wine is oozing out at my eyes. Pish ! — 
 What nonsense. Ay, Margaret, it is exactly ten years ago. I 
 Avas then twenty, and a fool. No, not a fool for loving you. By 
 Heavens, I have lost my wits to talk this stuff! the wine has 
 done its ofEce, and I am maundering. Why did I love you 1 
 It was all my own perverse stupidity. I was, am, and ever M'ill 
 be, a blockhead, an idiot of the first water. And such a match 
 for her to be driven into. She certainly should have let me 
 know more of her intentions than she did. Indeed — Why 
 should she ? Was she to caper after my whims, to sacrifice her 
 happiness to my caprices, to my devotions of to-day, and my 
 sulkinesses, or, still worse, my levities of to-morrow'? No, no, 
 Margaret: never — never — never, even in thought, let me ac- 
 cuse you, model of gentleness, of kindness, of goodness, as well 
 as of beauty. I am to blame myself, and myself alone. 
 
 I can see her now, can talk to her without passion, can put 
 up with her husband, and fondle her children. I have repressed 
 that emotion, and, in doing so, all others. With that throb lost, 
 went all the rest. I am now a mere card in the pack, shuffled 
 about eternally with the set, but passive and senseless. I care 
 no more for nly neighbour, than the King of Diamonds cares for 
 him of Clubs. Dear, dear Margaret, there is a lock of your 
 hair enclosed unknown to you in a little case which lies over 
 my heart. I seldom dare to look at it. Let me kiss its auburn 
 folds once more, and remember the evening I took it. But I 
 am growing more and more absurd. I drink your health then, 
 and retire. 
 
 Here's a healtli lo thee, Margaret, 
 
 Here's a liealtli to thee ; 
 
 The drinliera are gone, 
 
 And I am alone, 
 
 So here's a health to thee. 
 
 Dear, dear ]\rargaret.
 
 AN HUNDRED YEARS HENCE. 
 
 257 
 
 ^n i)unbrcb |3ears i^tntc. 
 
 sher - ry, The or - bo, and voice." So sings the old song, And a good one it 
 
 
 is ; Few bet - ter were writ -ten From that day to this : And I hope I may 
 
 ^^s^^^^m 
 
 say it, And give no offence, Few more will be bet -ter An hundred years henao 
 
 " Let U3 diink and be merry, 
 
 D;mce, joke, and rejoice, 
 Willi clnret and sherry. 
 
 Theorbo and voice." 
 So sings the old song, 
 
 And a good one it is ; 
 Few better were written. 
 
 From that day to this: 
 And I hope I may say ir. 
 
 And give no offence, 
 Few more will be better. 
 
 An lumdred j'ears hence.* 
 
 II. 
 In tliis yearlighteen hundred 
 
 And twenty and two, 
 There are plenty of false ones 
 
 And plpnty of true. 
 
 There are brave men and cowards; 
 
 And bright men and asses; 
 There arc lemon-faced prudes; 
 
 There are kind-hearted lasses. 
 Ho who quarrels with this 
 
 Is a man of no sense, 
 For so 'twill continue 
 
 An hundred years hence. 
 
 There are people who rave 
 
 Of llu! national debt, 
 Let them pay off their own 
 
 And the nation's forget; 
 Others bawl for reform, 
 
 Which were easily done, 
 If each would resolve 
 
 To reform Number One ; 
 
 * The old chant of " An Hundred Years Hence" was a great favorite of 
 Maginn's. He has quoted from it in the preceding article, (" Pococurante,") 
 and he made another version of it many years' later. The present version was 
 given in Blackwood for December, 18:22, as sung at No. VL of The Noctes. — M.
 
 258 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 For my part to wisdom 
 
 I make no pretence, 
 I'll be as wise as my neighbors 
 
 An hundred years hence. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I only rejoice, that 
 
 My life has been cast 
 On the gallant and glorious 
 
 Bright days which we've past; 
 When the flag of Old England 
 
 Waved lordly in pride, 
 Wherever green Ocean 
 
 Spreads his murmuring tide : 
 And I pray that unbroken 
 
 Her watery fence 
 May still keep off invaders, 
 
 An hundred years hence. 
 
 V. 
 
 1 rejoice that I saw her 
 
 Triumphant in war, 
 At sublime Waterloo^ 
 
 At dear-bought Trafalgar; 
 On sea and on land, 
 
 Wheresoever she fought, 
 Trampling Jacobin tyrants 
 
 And slaves as she ought: 
 Of Church and of King 
 
 Still the firmest defence: — 
 
 So may she continue 
 
 An hundred years hence. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Whey then need I grieve, if 
 
 Some people there be. 
 Who, foes to their country, 
 
 Rejoice not with me; 
 Sure I know in my heart, 
 
 That Whigs ever have been 
 Tyrannic, or turnspit. 
 
 Malignant, or mean: 
 Thky were and are scounduki.s 
 
 In every sense. 
 And scoundrels they will be 
 
 An hundred tears hence. 
 
 So lot us be jolly. 
 
 Why need we repine ? 
 If grief is a folly. 
 
 Let's drown it in wine! 
 As they scared away fiends 
 
 By the ring of a bell, 
 So the ring of the glass 
 
 Shall blue devils expel: 
 With a bumper before us 
 
 The night we'll commence 
 By toasting true Tories 
 
 An hundred years hence.
 
 A DOZEN YEARS HENCE. 
 
 259 
 
 '^ Do^en ^cavs i^cnce. 
 
 " Let's think and be meiry, 
 
 Dance, sing, anrl lojoice,"— 
 So inns the olil carol, 
 
 " With music and vomn." 
 Had the Bard but survived 
 
 Till the year tliirty-tlirce, 
 Methinks lie'd have met with 
 
 Less matter for glee; 
 To think what we were 
 
 In our days of good sense, 
 And think what we shall be 
 
 A dozen years hence. 
 
 II. 
 
 O! once the wide Continent 
 
 Rang with our fame, 
 And nations grew still 
 
 At the sound of our name ; 
 The pride of Old Ocean, 
 
 The home of the free. 
 The scourge of the despot, 
 
 By shore and by sea. 
 Of the fallen and the feeble 
 
 The stay and defence — 
 But where shall our fame be 
 
 A dozen years hence ? 
 
 III. 
 The peace and the plenty 
 
 That spread, over all 
 Blithe hearts and bright faces 
 
 In hamlet or hall ; 
 Our yeomen so loyal 
 
 In greenwood or plain, 
 Our true-hearted burghers 
 
 We seek them in vain ; 
 
 For Loyalty's now 
 
 In the pluperfect tense, 
 
 And frcedotn's the word 
 For a dozen years hente. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Nobles of Britain, 
 
 Once foremost to wield 
 Her wisdom in council, 
 
 Her thunder in field, 
 Her Judges, where learning 
 
 With purity vied, 
 Her sound-headed Chutchmen, 
 
 Time-honour'd, and tried; 
 To the gift of the prophet 
 
 I make no pretence, 
 But where shall they all be 
 
 A dozen years hence? 
 
 V. 
 
 Alas ! for old Reverence, 
 
 Faded and flown ; 
 Alas ! for the Nobles, 
 
 The Church, and the Throne, 
 AVhon to Radical creeds, 
 
 Peer and Prince must conform, 
 And Catholics dictate 
 
 Our new Church Reform ; 
 While the schoolmaster swears 
 
 'Tis a useless expense, 
 Which his class won't put up with 
 
 A dozen years hence. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Perhaps twere too much 
 To rejoice at the thought, 
 
 Tliat its authors will share 
 In the ruin they wrought; 
 
 * In BlacJcwood, for Febriiarj', 1833, appeared this second imitation, or rath- 
 er paraphrase, of Maginn's favourite old ballad. At that date, (just after the 
 defeat of the Tories, by the accession of the Whigs to office, and the passing 
 of the Reform Bill, after a two years' struggle between the Liberals and the 
 Boroughmongers, in which the Irish party, headed by O'Connell, supported 
 Reform,) Maginn, a violent partisan, was extremely indignant, as these stanzas 
 evince. — M.
 
 260 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 That the tempest which sweeps 
 
 All their betters awn)', 
 Will hardly spiire Durham, 
 
 Or Russell, or Grey :* 
 For my part I bear them 
 
 No malice prepense, 
 But I'll scarce break my heart for't, 
 
 A dozen years hence. 
 
 VII. 
 
 When Cobbett shall rule 
 
 Our finances alone, 
 And settle all debts 
 
 As he settled his own ; 
 When Hume shall take charge 
 
 Of the National Church, 
 And leave his old tools, 
 
 Like the Greeks,! in the lurch; 
 They may yet live to see 
 
 The new era commence, 
 With their oivn " Final Measure," 
 
 A dozen years hence. t 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Already those excellent 
 Friends of the mob, 
 
 May taste the first fruits 
 
 Of their Jacobin Job ; 
 Since each braying jackass 
 
 That handles a quill, 
 Now flings up his heels 
 
 At the poor dying Bill ; 
 And comparing ah'cady 
 
 The kicks with the jience, 
 Let them think of the balance 
 
 A dozen vears hence. 
 
 When prisons give place 
 
 To the swift guillotine, 
 And scaflFolds are streaming 
 
 Where churches have been ; 
 We too, or our children. 
 
 Believe me, will shake 
 Our heads — if we have them- 
 
 To find our mistake ; 
 To find the great measure 
 
 Was all a pretence, 
 And be sadder and wiser 
 
 A dozen years hence. 
 
 * The late Earl of Durham, son-in-law of Lord Grey, was in the Reform Min- 
 istry as Lord Privy Seal. Born in 1792, he sat in Parliament for many years 
 OS Mr. Lambton. In 1828, he was created Baron Durham, and was made 
 Earl in 1833. He was, personally, the most thorough aristocrat of his time: 
 politically, few public men held such ultra-liberal jninciples. After having been 
 two years in Russia, as Ambassador, (during which time he became persuaded 
 that the Emperor Nicholas was au extremely mild and liberal man,) he became 
 Governor-General of Canada with powers almost equal to those of a dictator — 
 but was blamed, by the British Government, for exercising some of them, and 
 threw up his appointment in anger, and returned to England. He died in 1840. 
 Lord John Russell, who owes his station as a public man, to that accident of 
 an accident — the having a Duke for his father, introduced the Reform Bill into 
 the House of Commons, on March 1, 1831. — M. 
 
 t Cobbett, who had borrowed a thousand pounds from Sir Francis Burdett, 
 contrived not to repay it. Mr. Hume, while the Greeks were struggling for 
 independence, had speculated on the stock issued as acknowledgment of their 
 Loan, and — had not lost by thus putting his pounds and patriotism into the 
 same venture. — M. 
 
 X Lord John Russell's declaration that the Reform Bill was " a final meas- 
 ure" obtained him the sobriquet of Lord John Finality, and disgusted the move- 
 ment party, whose support had carried the Bill. — M.
 
 THE PEWTER QUART. 
 
 261 
 
 ®f)e H^cxotcv (Slviavt. 
 
 A NKW SONG TO A\ OLD TUXE WRITTKN AND COMPOSED FOll THi: .IiiLl.l- 
 
 FICATION OF BIBBERS OF BEER, PORTER, ALE, STOUT, NAPPY, AND ALL 
 OTHER CONFIGURATIONS OF MALT AND HOP.* 
 
 Prrface to the Reader, which serves also for Itivocatiou. 
 
 (Scntlc Ikaicr ! 
 Poetfl tt)crc mere, in iigi's back, 
 Ult)ci sung i\)t fame of tijc bcmiit) jUlatk ^ock; 
 ©tl)cr0 tuiifji l)armo:tiou0 lai)3 
 ^n tl)C ^catljcnt |3cittlc'3 iiraisc; 
 Sl)all not JJ tljfii lift mt) iiuiU, 
 €o l;i)mit a mcasurf brigljtci- still? 
 
 Illaitifus, tiiljo Sclicou'0 Ijill rcaort, 
 ^ ^il) mc to cljaunt of tljc pcmtcr diuart. 
 
 -G — •- 
 
 :a-=ii=r, 
 
 E 
 
 m^^ 
 
 ^tt=?zf. 
 
 t=F 
 
 boy, take this handful of brass, Across to the Goose and Gridir'n pass, 
 
 Count the coin on the counter out, And bring me a quart of foaming stout ; Put 
 
 it not in - to bottle or jug, Can-ni - kin, rum-kin, 
 
 i--- = 
 
 'n, or mug ; In - 
 
 ^^=^=^t=.: 
 
 3^3: 
 
 S3^ 
 
 3E=?EE 
 
 i 
 
 - to nothing at all, in short, Ex - eept the na - tu - ral Pewter Quart. 
 
 As for iho gliiss, though I love it well, 
 
 Yet the quart I take to be prefera — ble ; 
 
 For it is solid and stout, like wliat 
 
 Bubbles and frolhs inside the pot : 
 
 Wlij' should anything, brittle or frail. 
 
 Fence England's liquor, valorous ale ! 
 He icas a man of fas/e aiid art, 
 l^Hio stowed it nn-ny in a Pewter Quart. 
 
 Blackwood fur November, 1S23, cnntaiiiod the "Pewter Quart." — M.
 
 202 THE ODOHERTY PAPEES. 
 
 In the bowels of England's grouncl, 
 
 Its materials all are found, 
 
 From its sides should flow again, 
 
 What cheers the bowels of England's men: 
 
 Can the same be said, 1 ash, 
 
 III favour of foreign flagon or flask ? 
 None can of them the good report, 
 We can of our national Pewter Quart. 
 
 Pleasant it is their shine to see, 
 
 Like stars in the waves of deep Galilee ; 
 
 Pleasant it is their chink to hear, 
 
 AVhen they rattle on table full chargi^d with beer; 
 
 Pleasant it is, when a row's on foot. 
 
 That you may, when you wi'sh to demolish a brute, 
 Politely the man to good manners exhort, 
 By softening his skull with a Pewter Quart. 
 
 As for the mallet-pate, pig-P3'e Chinese, 
 They may make crockery if they please ; 
 Fit, perhaps, may such vehicle be, 
 For marrowless washes of curst Bohea; 
 That is a liquor I leave to be drunk 
 By Cockney poet and Cockney punk ; 
 Folks with whom I never consort, 
 Preferring to chat with my Pewter Quart. 
 
 6. 
 
 Silver and gold no doubt are fine, 
 But on my table shall never shine ; 
 Being a man of plain common sense, 
 I hate all silly and vain expense, 
 And spend the cash these gew-gaws cost. 
 In washing down gobbets of boiled and roast, 
 With stingo stiff of the stiffest sort. 
 Curiously pulled from a Pewter Quart. 
 
 Bakers and bowls, I am told, of wood, 
 For quaffing water are counted good ; 
 They give a smack, say the wat'ry fnlks, 
 Like drinking after artii-hokes,
 
 THE PEWTER QUART. 263 
 
 Devil may care! I never use 
 Water in either my belly or shoes ; 
 
 And shall never be counted art or part 
 
 In pHtii?ig the same in a Pewter Quart. 
 
 8. 
 
 Galvani one day, skinning a frog', 
 To pamper his paunch with that pinch-gut prog, 
 Found out a science of wonderful wit, 
 AVhich can make a stuck pig kick out in a fit. 
 Make a dead thief dance a Highland reel. 
 And butcher a beast without cleaver or steel : 
 
 And he proves by this science with erudite art, 
 That malt must be drunk from a Pewter Quart. 
 
 9. 
 
 If Hock then loves the glass of gieen, 
 
 And champagne in its swan-necked flask is seen ; 
 
 If Gkisgow punch in a bowel we lay, 
 
 And twist off our dram in a wooden quaigh ; 
 
 If, as botanical men admit. 
 
 Everything has its habitat fit, 
 
 Let Sir John Barleycorn keep his court. 
 Turban^ d with froth in his Pewter Quart. 
 
 10. 
 So, boy, take this handful of brass, 
 Across to the Goose and Gridiron pass, 
 Count the coin on the counter out, 
 Anct bring me a quart of foaming stout; 
 ^ Put it not into bottle or jug, 
 
 Cannikin, rumkin, flagon, or mug — 
 Into nothing at all, in short. 
 Except the natural Pewter Quart. 
 
 HERE FOLLOWS 
 
 A DISSERTATION ON THE LEATHER BOTTLE AND THE BLACK JACK. 
 
 In the Avorks of the ingenious D'Urfey, whicli he who studies 
 not Avith nocturnal and diurnal attention, is worthy of infinite 
 reprobation, not to say worse, will he discovered two poems, 
 which have not, as yet, excited the notice of the learned in the 
 manner which they deserve.* I shall therefore, as briefly as 
 
 * Thomas D'Urfey, author of thirty-one comedies which have sunk into de- 
 served forgetfulness, by reason of their licentiousness, and of six volumes of
 
 2G4 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the importance of tlie matter will admit of, dissertate somewhat 
 upon them ; inviting the attention of the sage and erudite to my 
 remarks ; perfectly regardless of the approbation or disapproba- 
 tion of those whom my friend, the lleverend Edward Irving, calls 
 " the flush and flashy spirits of the age ;" thereby making an 
 agreeable and euphuistical alliteration at head and tail* 
 
 In the third volume of " Pills to Purge Melancholy," the two 
 hundred and forty-seventh page, and first verse, will be found 
 these words : — 
 
 'Sljc geat[)cx pottU. 
 
 ttinu C3iiti alumc, tijat mabc all tl)inii0| 
 
 l^ciuicit lUiJi cartl), uiiti uU tl)a-eiu; 
 
 %l)t oifips iipciii tl)e 5Ci\5 to smim, 
 
 •Co keep fofs put, t\)(\) ronic not in. 
 
 Xloxv tvcu) ant iotl) luljat \}( nut 
 
 ^U for tljc net an^ pniicic of muit. 
 ^ luisl) ill Dciuifit tljiU soul map buicU 
 'CljtU rtrct I>cui3fJ> tl;e lfiitl;rcu bottlf. 
 
 A more splendid exordium is not in the whole compass of our 
 poetry. The bard, about to sing of a noble invention, takes 
 high ground. His eyes, with a fine frenzy rolling, glances at 
 the origin of the world, the glories of Heaven, and the utilities 
 of earth ; at old ocean murmuring Avith its innumerable waves, 
 and the stately vessels walking the waters in all their magnifi- 
 cence ; and then, by a gradual and easy descent, like Socrates 
 bringing philosophy from the abodes of the gods to the dwellings 
 of men, chaunts the merits of him who, for the use and praise 
 of man, devised the Leathern Bottle. Compare Pindar's cele- 
 brated opening Avith this, and you will see how short is the flight 
 of the Boaotiau muse, contrasted with that of our own swan. 
 Observe, moreover, the solid British feeling of the illustrious 
 
 songs and party lyrics, called "Laugh and be Fat; ur, Pills to Purge Melan- 
 clioly," was a boon companion of Charles II., and in high request among the 
 wits and profligates of that monarch's court. He died, 1723. — M. 
 
 * In his Orations, published in 1823, Irving had denounced " unhallowed 
 poets, and undevout dealers io science, and intemperate advocates of policy, 
 and all other pleaders before the public mind," ns " the flush and flashy spirits 
 (if the age." — I\l.
 
 THE LEATHEU BOTTLE. 265 
 
 poet. No sooner docs he mention ships, than the national spirit 
 
 breaks forth, 
 
 €l)c sljipa upcin tl)c ociis to siuiiUi 
 €0 kffp foes out, tljci) come not in. 
 
 Had the man who wrote this, one idea inconsistent with the 
 honour and j^lory of Britain? — I lay a thousand pounds he had 
 not. Had he lived in our days, he Avould have consigned the 
 economists to the devil and the Scotsman. Conceive, for a mo- 
 ment, this great man, big with beer, and thoroughly impressed 
 with veneration for our Avails of Avood, reading that article in the 
 Edinburgh on the Navigation LaAvs. What an upcurled lip of 
 mdignatiou Avould he not display ! Hoav hearty Avould be his 
 guflfaAv of contempt ! Hoav frequent his pulls at the vessel in- 
 serted in his dexter paAv, in order to Avash down the cobAveb the- 
 ories he was endeavouring to swalloAV ! How impatiently Avould 
 the pigtail turn under the nether-gum, until at last, losing pa- 
 tience, he would fling the Balaam OA'er the bannisters, and ex- 
 claim, " Here, John, take it away from me, and put it in the only 
 place where it can be at all for the use and praise of man." 
 What place that is, it is not necessary for me to mention. 
 
 IToiu, iul;at t»o tjou sax) to tt)C ciiitns of luooi? 
 /aiti), tl}ci) arc nougljt, tljci) caiinot b^ ijooli; 
 tDt)Cit a man for beer l)e iotl) tljereiii seiilJ, 
 ®o Ijaxu tljem fiUclt, aa tje Ijotl) inteiiic 
 <J;i)C bearer ©tumbletl) bi) tJ)e uiai), 
 ^ni oil t\)t ijrouitJt tjia liouor liotl) laij; 
 ®l}cn etrai3l)t ti)c man begins to ban, 
 ^nl» su)ear0 it, 'tuias long of tt)e uiooJieit cait; 
 |Jut ijixl) it been in a leatljern bottle, 
 Jlltl)ou0l) l;e 6lumble^, all tjiil" been uicU; 
 §•0 safe tijerein it luoulb remain, 
 Until tl)c man got up aQain. 
 
 <Slnl( ^ uiifll) in Ijcaiun, &(. 
 
 The ambling pace of the verse cannot be sufficiently com- 
 mended. Here Ave go on jog trot, as Sancho Panza on Dapple. 
 Nothing stops the full gush of poetry poured out in a ceaseless, 
 murmuring Aoaa--, like a brook rolling at the feet of tAvo lovers by 
 moonlight. Remark, too, the insight this verse gives us of tlie 
 manners of the poet. His habits are completely anti-domestic ; 
 
 Vol. I. — 12
 
 266 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 that have what King Leigli* calls " all the freshness of out-o^ 
 doors life." He has no store at home. When he wants to 
 drink, he sends for the cpantity required. All the bother of 
 butlers is done away with. The whole tribe of tapsters are his 
 footmen, and the wide world his cellar. You perceive, too, the 
 habits of his household : it is in a state of perpetually blissful in- 
 toxication. Nothing can be more a matter of course than that any 
 messenger of his should stumble by the way ; it is a regular affair 
 of ordinary speculation. And then see his magnanimity. Grieved 
 as he is at the loss of his liquor, he has no indignation against 
 the drunken bearer, but transfers his wi'ath to the vessel, resolv- 
 ing henceforward to alter his measures. In all this, there is 
 Bomething Christian-like and philanthropic, 
 lloio for tl)C \y(ft5 luitl) Ijrtitlilfs tljrcf, 
 /aitl), tljcij sljall Ijavc no praise of mc, 
 1^1)01 a man em's Ijia xuifc io fall at strife, 
 (^0 mani), 3 fear, tjanc t>ont in tbeir life,) 
 ^l;ei) lai) tt)cir l)au^0 upon tl;e pot boti), 
 ^nJi break tl)e same, tljongb tijei) niete lotb; 
 IVtjid) tijei) sljall anaiuer another tiai), 
 /or casting tijeir Hiinor so tiainlt) atuai;: 
 |Hiit Ijali it been iu a bottle fiUeti, 
 €l)e one mif,iit Ijaiic tn98e^, tlje otl^er l;aiie l)el;i; 
 ©Ijep botl) migljt Ijavc tuggcti till tijeir I)eart3 }}il) akf, 
 ^nti pet no barm tlje bottle uionlti take, 
 ^■ili 3 luist) iu l;caiien, f:c. 
 
 The philosophy of this verse is Avorthy of Lord Bacon or liis 
 commentator. The philosopher, knowing the pugnacity of hu- 
 man nature, feels no surprise at a matrimonial scuffle, but in- 
 stantly his great object occurs to his mind. " Fight it out," 
 quoth he ; " fight it out by all means ; but don't spill the drink." 
 The whole forms a pleasant domestic picture ; the husband on 
 one side of the table, warming his bunnions at the fire ; the wife, 
 mending a pair of breeches at the other ; and a three-handled 
 pot, lying in quiet serenity between them, vrpon a deal table. 
 
 * Leigh Hunt, spoken of, in those d;iys, as the King of Cockaigne or Cock- 
 ney-land. — M. 
 
 t Tlie coiiimentatoi- here alluded to was Professor Macvey Napier, whose 
 article " On the scope and tendency of Bacon'" was constantly ridiculed in the 
 earlier volumes of Blackwood. — M.
 
 THE LEATHER BOTTLE. 267 
 
 Suddenly arises a storm, occasioned by what we are not informed 
 by tlie poet, but most probably by an unequal division of the 
 contents of the aforesaid pot — and a combat ensues. Both seize 
 the pot, and the liquor is spilt. How touchingly, and yet with 
 a just indignation, does our friend reflect on this ! 
 
 /or u)l)id) tl)ci) sljiUl aneiocr auotl)er t>at)| 
 /or casting tljcir liiiuor 0Ci tminli) mmuj. 
 
 The solemnity of this threat is awfully impi-essive. It sounds 
 like a voice from Delphi, or like a deep-toned imprecation, ut- 
 tered from the mystic groves of Eleusis. There is nothing like 
 it in all Paradise Lost. 
 
 IToiu loljut rif tijc llagone of silrcr flite? 
 
 /aiti), t\)(\) sljtiU l)iuii: no praise of mine. 
 
 Ul|)fn n nobleman l;e liotlj tl)cm scnli 
 
 ®o \)avt tl)cm fiUcti, as Ijc lioti) intend, 
 
 ®l)C man uiitl) l)i9 flagon runs ouite aioatj, 
 
 JVnii ncticr is seen again after tl)at bai). 
 
 ®1), t\)cn l)is lorii begins to ban, 
 
 ^nlJ siuears l)c Ijatl) lost boti) flagon anii man: 
 
 |Jut it ne'er luas knoiun tljat page or groom, 
 
 jJut loitl) tt leatljern bottle again uioulli come, 
 ^nb 3 mist) in l)eanen, &c. 
 
 You see here the touches of a fine archaic simplicity. The sil- 
 ver flagon indicating that its possessor is a nobleman — the pro- 
 vision for life which it affords the flying footman, who never again 
 is seen after that day-^\\\Q baronial swearing of his lordship — 
 and his regret at the loss of his property, first in the flagon, and 
 then in the man ; all take us back to the feudal times, and make 
 us think of beetle-broAved castles frownino' over foamin<r cata- 
 racts ; of knights clad in the panoply of plate and mail pricking 
 forth upon the plain ; of ladye love, and chivalrye ; 
 Of iiltinir furniture, emhlazoncd sldelds, 
 Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds, 
 Ba^es and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights, 
 At tilt and tournament ; then marshalV d feast, 
 Served np in hall 7cith seioers and seneschals. 
 
 It is agreeable to yield the mind occasionally to these soft 
 delusions of fancy, and to let our souls revel in the beauties and 
 splendours of times past by. But, alas ! as Burke says, *' the 
 day of chivalry is gone, and the glory of Europe is departed."
 
 268 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I agree with thcat great orator, but shall nevertheless proceed 
 with the Leathern Bottle. 
 
 llciui, uil)at t)(f 1)011 0111) tcr tl)C0c jlas0C8 fine? 
 
 /uitl), tl)ft) 0l)aU l)iuie nci praise of mine, 
 
 llll)cn friciili0 are at a talUc act, 
 
 ^iili bi) tl)cm 0ci.icral aorts of mcat| 
 
 ^t)e one Unics flfslj, tl)e otl)er flel); 
 
 (3lin0U0 tl)cm all rcmcmc a tiisi); 
 
 <3iOud) but a gUis© upon tl)e brim, 
 
 ®;|)e j)la60 is broke; no unnc left in: 
 
 ^\)tn be pour table-clotl) ne'er 00 fine. 
 
 Sljere lies i)our beer, ijour ale, i)our mine; 
 
 <3lnti, lioubtless, for 00 small abuse, 
 
 Jl ijoung man man bis scruicc lose, 
 ^nli 3 mist), &c. 
 I am sorry the poet wrote this verse. There is something 
 flunkeyish and valleycleshammical in the whole passage. Some- 
 thing, in fact, Moorish — I mean Peter-Moorish ;* and, I suspect, 
 an interpolation. What need Ave care for the discarded skip, or 
 the stained diaper ? Get it washed. Warrant it Avill not add a 
 shilling to your Avasherwoman's bill in the twelvemonths. But 
 perhaps you arc afraid of the stains remaining to offend your 
 optic nerve. Illake your mind easy on the subject. You Avill 
 find your remedy in the two hundred and ninety-ninth page of 
 the Book of Rundell.t " Rub your part," says that she-Kitch- 
 ener, " on each side Avith yellow soap ; then lay on a mixture 
 of starch in cold Avater, very thick ; rub it Avell in, and expose 
 the linen to the sun and air, till the stain comes out. If not 
 removed in three or four days, rub that off, and reneAv the 
 process. When dry, it may be sprinkled Avith a little water." 
 Obser\'e, it men/ be sprinkled ; for she does not insist on that 
 
 * Peter Moore, Wliig M. P. for Coventry, deserves to be remembered for his 
 kindness to Sheridan when dying-, and for having placed a tombstone over the 
 wit's remains, at his own proper cost, in Westminster Abbey. — M. 
 
 t Mrs. Rundell's "Domestic Cookery," published by John Murray, of Lon- 
 don. It was (and is) extremely popular and Murray realized a large fortune 
 out of this book and Byron's poetry. The wife of the senior partner in the great 
 form of Rundell and Bridges, jewellers, London, was the author, and presented 
 the manuscript to Mr. Murray. When she found that it was successful and 
 profitable, she claimed some share in the pecuniary results, and received £1,000. 
 Nearly half a million copies have been sold, in the last forty-five years. — M.
 
 THE LEATHER BOTTLE. 2G9 
 
 with dogged pertinacity. ISTotliing can be more simple than the 
 process ; and I am sorry tlie matter was mentioned. If it really 
 be a hona-fide part of the composition, I must only class it 
 among the follies of the wise ; and mourn over the frail condi- 
 tion of human nature. 
 
 Houi «il)fit tljis bcttlf is groiun olti 
 
 (Jlnli tijat it luill iia loitflcr l)olli, 
 
 ©lit of tl)c si&c Dciit mai) cut a clout, 
 
 ®o mcnii t)our sljoc mljcu uiocii outj 
 
 ®r l)iniii tl)C ott)cr siJic on a pin, 
 
 '^uiill sfnv to put tiuiui) otiii tvifXffl itti 
 
 ,5\3 urtilu, amis, rtnti ciuttilfs' cutis; 
 
 jTov t)ouu0 licfliuufrs ncf^ suti) things. 
 ^ luifll) in ^catifu Ijio soul mat) imiell 
 €l)at first iuticutcli tlje jTcatljccu ^^ottle. 
 
 This is a brilliant verse, and displays a genius for mechanical 
 invention, which would do honour to a Perkins. The thrifty 
 management, too, is highly commendable ; and the care he mani- 
 fests for young beginners, marks a parental and humane dispo- 
 sition, which converts our admiration of the poet into love for 
 the man. He appears to be of the opinion of that eminent 
 statesman — the Mr. Maberley* of his day — who declared that 
 there is nothing like leather. Much may be, and indeed has 
 been, said, on both sides of the question ; but though the con- 
 troversy is far from being set at rest, I shall not agitate it on 
 the present occasion. 
 
 Let me now turn to the second head of my discourse ; namely, 
 the Black Jack. 
 
 '€i3 a pitiful tljiug, tljut uow-a-tiujg, sirs, 
 ®ur poets turu ^catl)cvrt i3ottle pniiscrs ; 
 lHut if a IfiUljfru tl)cam tijcp Mir lack, 
 ^l)cp migijt better Ijatie d)oseu ti)e bouui) |3lacK '^i:i.i^\ 
 /or iul)eu tl)ci) arc botl) uou) well luoru auli iifcai)eti, 
 /or tl)C |iiitk, tljuu ttje bottle, mud) more cuu be saii. 
 <?lnti ,3 luisl) l)ig soul mud) flooli mat) partake, 
 €l)at first iieniseii tl)e bouup |ilad JJaA. 
 
 I, for one, am free to admit, that I do not like this com- 
 mencement. There is something, as Leigh Hunt says, base and 
 
 * Maberley, long' M. P. for the borough of Abington, became a bankrupt in 
 Lis later years. — M.
 
 270 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 reviewatoiy in it. Why need lie disparage the valuable labours 
 of his predecessor bard ? The world was large enough for them 
 both. But the poetic tribe is irritable. This very moment, there 
 is barbarous civil war going on among them. Southey calls 
 Byron Satan ; and Byron compliments the Laureate with the 
 soothing title of Rogue. Bernard Barton has been heard to 
 declare, that he did not think ODoherty's poetry had any thing 
 Miltonian about it — to be sure it was in private; and he quali- 
 fied the assertion by adding, that he gave it merely as matter of 
 opinion ; but after all, it was shabby on the part of Broadbrim.* 
 I say nothing ; and mention the business just in illustration. 
 
 JlitJ) itoui 3 mill bffliit to "Otdaxe 
 
 Wljut tl)c coiuiciiifitcfs of tl)C <3atk arc. 
 
 /irst, luljcit IT gang pf flooli fcUouia tio mfft| 
 
 ^0 oft at a fair, or a iirnhf, i)ou 5\)M sec't) 
 
 %\)C\) rc0oliic to Ijavc eoiue mcrri) rarotitica, 
 
 ^ni> x)(t to get i)0\nt in gooli time to tl)cir Ijouoea; 
 
 ®l)cn tlK bottk it runs as sloiu as mi) vbime, 
 
 Witb ^aik, t!)fD might bmic all been Iiruitk in gooli time. 
 
 ^nii Ji luisl} Ijis soul in pcare mar) IiiueU, 
 
 <£t)at first Iicinscli tbat sjicctip vessel. 
 
 The Avriter of this is evidently an intensely moral and domes- 
 tic man. It being an object of necessity to get drunk, the ques- 
 tion arises how this is to be done with the most decorous pro- 
 priety. Arguing then, with Macbeth, that when a thing is to 
 be done, 'twere well that it Avere done quickly ; and, anxious to 
 delight the family at home Avith an early A'isit, he naturally pre- 
 fers the jack, or, as he most poetically calls it, the Speedy Ves- 
 sel. He manifestly hates loitering and lingering in any work in 
 Avhich he is engaged, and is quite shocked at the idea of intru- 
 ding on domestic arrangements by any absence of his. He feels 
 the duties of the head of a household too keenly ; he is too 
 much interested in the proper ordering of affairs at home. Cer- 
 tain I am that family prayers Avere the regular order of the day 
 in his establishment. 
 
 * Bernard B;iitoii, a quakcr, (l)oin in 1784, died in 1849,) wrote a great many 
 very tolerable verses, which made him popular — chiefly as contributor to Mag- 
 azines and Annuals. — M.
 
 THE BLACK JACK. 271 
 
 ^nli tl)frcforc Icimc i)oiir tmittlf tuuUtU, 
 
 Praise tljc 3ach, pniioc no more tl)e ^TciUtjerii pottle ; 
 
 /or tlje imut at tl)C I'ottle mai) brink till i)c burst, 
 
 ^nl> pet not l)anii!5omeli) ouentl) Ijis tljirst: 
 
 €l)e master Ijereat maketl) great moan, 
 
 ^iit" ioulits l)i3 bottle l)as a s^ire of tlje etont^ 
 
 put if it baJ> been a generous 3ad-,, 
 
 l^e migijt b'^ve ball eurrentli) mbat be iii^ ladv: 
 
 ,flnl) ,3 misb bis soul in |.1ara^i5e, 
 
 ^biit first fountr out tbat buppi) bcvice. 
 
 The lament of the unsated becr-hibber is given here Avith a 
 pathos which mnst draw tears from the eyes even of the most 
 liard-hearted. No words are thrown awaj'. We see him en- 
 deavouring- to efiect his purpose at the bottle's mouth, and find- 
 ing his efforts vain, he " thereat malcctk great moany How 
 simple, yet how tender ! Had Sheil, or any other poetaster of 
 that stamp, such a passage in his hands, into what a bladder of 
 wordy amplification Avould he not have blown it ! "We slionld 
 infallibly have had the wife and children drawn in to participate 
 in the father's sorrow ; but here wc have a strain of higher mood. 
 
 |3c pour liquor small, or tbicK as muii, 
 
 '^\)t cheating bottle tbat cries gooli, gooti; 
 
 ^bfit tbc master again begins to storm, 
 
 |3ecause it saitr more tban it roulti perform: 
 
 i3ut if it bill" been in \\\\ bonest i.1latk 3ack, 
 
 3t uioulb b'U'f jiroucii better to cigbt> smell, anJ> smatk; 
 
 Jlnb ^ luisb bis soul in J^cuien map rest, 
 
 <£b'it aiiicli a Jiadv to |3acd)us's feast. 
 
 On this verse I make no remark, as I am sure that by this 
 time the reader of moderate abilities, or proper application, will 
 be able to discover its scope and tendency. 
 Ilo flagon, tankarb, bottle, or jug, 
 jJs b'^'f 2" fi*/ "r St" i"f'l c'^i^ ')''l^ tug; 
 /or lubeu ix uum anl> b's wife )ilai) at tbiuadis, 
 €b<:rc ia notbing so gooJ> us a pair of i3ladi Jlad^s : 
 ®b"s to it thei) go, tbci) smear, aulr tbei) curse, 
 3t makes tbfm botb better, tbe 3adi's ne'er tbe morse; 
 * /or tbn) might b'U'e baiigeli botb, till tbeir bi'arts bili ake, 
 ^ntr pet uo biut tbc SaAs coulb take: 
 <?lnli 3 misb bis beivs map bane a pension, 
 ■(Jhat first protiucet" tbat ludip iutieution.
 
 272 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 I am afi-aicl my friend Joe Hume aa^ouIcI liarclly agree with 
 this last iDi-ayer, but it is evident tliat Josepli has no taste for 
 the fine arts. The philological student will discover in this 
 verse the origin of the phrase, " leathering a man's wife." On 
 the moral propriety of conjugal fisticuifery I had prepared some 
 copious remarks, Avhen I received information from a sure hand, 
 tliat my Lord Holland has a folio on the subject nearly ready 
 for the press, and I bow to his Lordship's superior talents and 
 experience. 
 
 ^fucratcs anii ^riotottc 
 S^uAcIi no xuit from a ^catl)cr |lottlc; 
 /oc sucflp ^ tl;ink a man ns soon map 
 /iiili a ntc'bic in a bottle of Ijiip: 
 lint if tl)c plach ^aA a man often toes ovcrf 
 '€unU make liim rtg iniith as aitp vlji'^sopjjcr; 
 tUI)en l)e tl;at makes Jiatks from a pcA to a i\uaxtf 
 Conjures not, tboHdl) \)c liyes bi) tl)c blatk art. 
 ^ni) 3 xuisl), &c. 
 
 I care not a fig for the black art, and defy the foul fiend, 
 Prince Hohenlohe, and Ingleby the Emperor of the Conjurers* 
 — so shall make no remark on the last two lines. It Avould lead 
 ns into too deep a historico-mctaphysical disquisition, were I to 
 enter into a history of the fortunes of the Aristotelian philoso- 
 phy. During the life of Aristotle, he was looked on as the 
 prince of philosophers ; and such did his estimation continue, as 
 long as there Avere minds in the Avorld manly enough to under- 
 stand him. While Europe Avas simk in darkness, he Avas taken 
 up by the acute Arabians, then at the head of the intellect of the 
 earth. From them the schoolmen canght him, badly translated 
 and imperfectly understood ; and Avhen their day Avas over, the 
 puny whipsters AA^ho had got possession of the ear of the metaphys- 
 ical Avorld, thought nothing could be finer than to disparage, be- 
 cause he had been caricatured, him Avhom they could not read ; 
 and Ave see, in our OAvn day, SteAvartf mumping and mumbling 
 
 * Prince Hohenlohe, about 1823, was stated to liave restored diseifted and 
 nfflicted'persons to health, by praying for them. — Ingleby, who called himself 
 "Emperor of the Conjurers," w;is an adroit j>ractiiioner of legerdemain. — M. 
 
 t Dugald Stewart, Professor of Moral Philosopiiy in the University of Edin- 
 burgh : born in 1753, died in 1828. — M.
 
 THE BLACK JACK. 273 
 
 pretty little notliings, witli full assurance that the Peripatetic 
 Avhom he cannot construe, or Avho, if construed for him, is far 
 above any reach of thought he conld bring to the consideration, 
 is unworthy to ixnloose the latchet of his shoe. But to his for- 
 tune in our poetry I may briefly advert : it is a fine illustration 
 of the elder Mr. Shandy's theory of the influence of a name. 
 That he was a hard drinker I hope, for he was a great man ; 
 but whether he Avas or not, no name of the ancients occurs so 
 often in juxta-position with the bottle. See the verse above. 
 So also the eminent Harry Carey,* 
 
 Zeno, Plato, Aristotle, 
 All were lovers of the bottle. 
 So in ]\[S. penes me, 
 
 2'o moisten our throttle, 
 We'll call the third bottle, 
 For that was the practice of wise Aristotle. 
 All owing to the two last syllables of his name. With respect 
 to the remark in the text, that 
 
 ^f tl)C ph\&. Sack a man oftcu toas oiicr, 
 'xSiuill make Ijim as irritnk as am) })!)ilosopl}er. 
 I can vouch, from my own experience, that the illustration is 
 correct ; for I have had the honour of being intimately ac- 
 quainted with fifteen of the first philosophers of the age, four- 
 teen of whom went to bed drunk as widgeons every night of 
 their lives, and the fifteenth retired when he found himself tipsy. 
 |3f0ilics, mi) pooti fricu&, kt me tell i)on, tijat fellpiu 
 ^Ijat fvamei tl)c bottle, Ijia lu-aiiis mere but sljallaio; 
 ^l)C rase is so clear, ^ notljiiig neet) meutioit, 
 €l)e JIatk is a nearer anii iieeper inneutian; 
 Ultjen tlje bottle is rleaneli, tlje tiregs ftp about, 
 Jls if tl)C fiuts anil ttje brains fleiu out; 
 |3ut if in a cannon-bore 3ack it Ijali been, 
 /com tl)e top to tljc bottom all migljt Ijatie been clean. 
 JlnJj Jl luis!) Ijis soul no comfort mai) lack, 
 'Sljat first iieuiseli tljc bouncing Jilack Jlack. 
 
 I am not antiquarian enough to decide on the correctness of 
 the above objurgation against the uncleanliness of the bottles of 
 
 * Heniy Carey was not only a musician, but also author of many ballads, 
 among which "Sally in our Alloy" was praised liy Addison for its wovUri, and 
 by Geminiani for its music. He committed suicide in 1743. — M.
 
 274 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the olden time, and willingly leave the consideration of the mat- 
 ter to Mr. John Nichols, who presides, and long may he preside, 
 over the archseologists who wield the pen for the Gentleman's 
 Magazine,* in which, perhaps, he will favour us Avith an en- 
 graved likeness of a leathern bottle, as, I think, churches are 
 running rather low. But, he that as it may, he must have 
 little gusto for the sublime who can fail to admire the splendid 
 epithet of the Cannon-bore Jack. What vast ideas of stupen- 
 dous biboslty does not it excite 1 Conceive a nine-pounder-like 
 machine charged with ale, levelled on your table, in full range 
 against your brains ! Nay, the very Avord is good. It makes 
 us think of battle and blood — of square column and platoon 
 mowed down in unrelenting sweep — of Sir William Congreve,t 
 the Duke of Wellington, and the field of Waterloo — of Buona- 
 parte, St. Helena, and Sir Hudson Lowe — and thence, by the 
 association of ideas, of Barry O'Meara^ and the horse-whipping 
 of old Walter of the Times. I shall lump my dissertation on 
 the four following verses : — 
 
 l)our lcatt)er bottle 10 uectr bi) no man 
 ^Ijat is a Ijuic's-brcatitl) abouc a ploutman; 
 %\)in let us fltutij to tl;f ^crculcs pillavs^ 
 ^iiJi tl)<;rc let us visit tijosc jialluut ^ach sioillcrflj 
 Jilt tl}ese small, stroitjj, sour, milti, anii stale, 
 ^[)tr} brink orange, lemon, ixnt) |"ambetl) ale: 
 ©l)e d)icf of l)eraliT3 tl)erc allows, 
 ^l)e ^ad\ to be of ixn ancicnter Ijouse. 
 
 ^nli map l)is successors neper luant sack, 
 
 ■Eljat first Jreuiseii tlje long featl^cr Jladi. 
 
 ®l)Crt for tbe bottle, i)ou cannot xuell fill it, 
 TUitbout a tunnel, but tl)at tjou must spill it; 
 
 * John Nichols, (born in 1744, died in 1828,) conducted The Gentleman^s 
 Magazine for nearly half a centuiy. — M. 
 
 t Inventor of the rockets which bear his name. Tliry have fallen into dis- 
 repute. He was born in 1772, and died in 1828. — M. 
 
 X Barry Edward O'Meara, born 1778, died in 1836. Napoleon's surgeon at 
 St. Helena, in July 1818, (when ho was recalled and deprived of his rank,) 
 and author of "A Voice from St. Helena." Byron, in "The Age of Bronze," 
 Bpeaking of Napoleon, says that 
 
 " The stiff surgeon, who maintained his cause. 
 Hath lost his place, and gained the woild's applause." — M.
 
 TIllO BLACK JACK. 275 
 
 '(£is iii Ijiirti to flct in, us it is to get out, 
 '<£J3 not 30 luitl) a Such, foi- it runs like a spout 
 <£l)fii bunt ijour bottle, uUiat flooti is in it, 
 ©nc cannot lucU fill it, nor trink nor clean it; 
 put if it hail been in a jollp Black 3ack, 
 '®m0uU< come a great \iac(f ant Ijolli dou iiooli tack. 
 ^n\> 3 mis!) Ijis soul, &r. 
 
 ^e tijat 's iirunk in a 3aA, looks as fierce as a spaik, 
 ^l)at luere just realu) coAt to shoot at a mark; 
 llUjen i\)( otijer thing up to the mouth it goes, 
 flakes a man look uutl) a great bottle nose; 
 ^11 wise men conclude, tljat a Sack, neui or olli, 
 Cl)c' beginning to leak, is bomeuer luortt) golli; 
 /or luben tlje poor man on tl)e map tioes trulige it| 
 I5i3 morn-out Sack serues ijim for a bu^get. 
 (Slnli S t"isl) bis \)tixs map ncuer lack sack, 
 '$.\)At first contriiuJ) tijc leatljer i3lack Sack. 
 
 tllben bottle anft Sack stanln together, fie on't, 
 <tl)e bottle looks just like a iimarf to a giant ; 
 €ben bane me not reason tlje Sack for to djoose, 
 /or tbep can make boots, mben tbc bottle menlis s\)ots] 
 /or aiiJ) but to enerp Jlack a foot, 
 ^uli enerp JJack becomes a boot: 
 •Sljcn giiie me mp Jiack, ttjerc's a reason mljp, 
 SljfP U^ive kept us met, ti;ep mill keep us brp. 
 3 nom sljall cease, but as 3 am an bonest man, 
 ^\!)c ^ask Jicsernes to be calleli ^Mr JJobn. 
 ^nli map tbep ne'er iiuint, for bellp nor back, 
 €hat keep up tbe tral"c of tbe bonnp iHack 3ad^. 
 
 Amen ! and virtue be its own reward ! 
 
 On the above, four things are to particularly noticed. 
 
 I. Tliat the Hercules Pillars is the nc-plus-uUra of signs. 
 
 II. That the progress of time has extinguished various sorts 
 of ales — for who, noAV-a-days, drinks Orange, Lemon, or Lam- 
 beth — they sleep Avith the Chians and Falernians of the days 
 of Greece and Rome. 
 
 III. That a partiality for a man's favourite pursuit may lead 
 him to bestow on it unjust and undeserved praise ; for, after vai'i- 
 ons and repeated experiments in drinking out of every vessel un- 
 der the sun, I can give it as my unbiassed opinion, that the shape 
 of the instrument imparts no additional value to the liquor drunk,
 
 276 THE ODOIIERTY PAPERS. 
 
 and that therefore the idea that he, wlio imbibes from a black 
 jack, acquires a superior fierceness or martiahty of aspect, must 
 be classed among such innocent delusions as induced the barber 
 to recommend whitehandled razors as the best fitted for abrading 
 of beards. 
 
 Lastly and finally, we cannot help being pleased by the vein 
 of genuine and unaffected piety Avhich runs through both these 
 dignified compositions. The prayers which in both conclude 
 each verse, though more varied and poetical in the latter, are 
 not more solemn and impressive than the solitary ejaculations of 
 blessing bestowed upon the earlier production. There is some- 
 thing striking, which sinks in to the soul, in the constant choral- 
 like repetition of the one formulary Avhich amply compensates for 
 the picturesque diversity, which excites our admiration, but fills 
 us not with awe. The one goes to the head — the other to the 
 heart. To conclude, if the brows of the inventors of the Bottle 
 and Jack deserve to be bound with snoAv-white fillets, as being 
 men who civilized life by new productions of art and genius, the 
 bards who hymned their exploits may justly claim the same 
 honour, as being pious poets, wlio spoke things worthy of Apollo. 
 
 M. OD.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 271 
 
 Qln 3bnl on tl)c Bnttlc* 
 
 Fists a.vd THii man I sing-, who, in tlio valleys of Hampshire, 
 
 Close to ihe borough of Aiidover, one fine clay of the spiing'-tinie, 
 
 Bring: the twentieth of May, (the day, moreover, was Tuesday,) 
 
 Eighteen bundled and twenty-three, in a fistical combat, 
 
 Beat, in a handful of rounds, Bill Neat, the butcher of Bristol. 
 
 Wliat is the hero's name? Indeed, 'tis bootless to mention. 
 
 Every one knows 'tis Spring — Tom Spring, now Champion of England.! 
 
 Full of honours and gout, Tom Cribb surrendered his kingdom, 
 And in the Champion's cup no more he quaffs as the Chumpion.^ 
 Who is to fill his place? the anxious nation, inquiring. 
 Looks round the ring with a glance of hope and eagerness blended. 
 Everywhere would you see deep-drawn and puckered-up faces, 
 Worn by the people in thought on this high and ponderous matter. 
 Spain and Greece are forgot — they may box it about at their pleasure; 
 Newport! may brandish his brogue unheard at the Sheiiff of Dublin ; 
 
 * This imitation (so far as the metre goes,) of Southey's " Vision of Judg- 
 ment," appeared in Blackwood for Jul}', 1823. — RL 
 
 t Tom Spring's real name was Thomas Winter. He was a native of Here- 
 fordsliire. Li stature he was tall, in strength great, in science superb, in pluck 
 unrivalled, in honesty above all doubt, in aspect pleasing, in manners mild. 
 For many years after he left the Ring he kept the well-known public-house 
 yclept " The Castle," in Holborn, London, not far from the principal entrance 
 to Gray's Inn. He was particularly placid in temper and unassuming in de- 
 meanor. Always attired in black, with an irreproachable white cravat, he 
 gently moved among the pewter-pots, in his bar, reminding one more of a cler- 
 gyman than of the Champion of England. At night he presided in a free-and- 
 easy, celebrated for its vocalization, in his own hnslehie, and many went thith- 
 er to see him in the chair. But his projicr place was in the little parlor beliind 
 the bar, every inch of its walls covered with portraits of pugilists — save one 
 little corner, which contained a few shelves on which were ranged sundry vol- 
 umes of the Racing Calendar, (for Tom Spring latterly affected to patronize 
 the Turf,) and the whole of Pierce Egan's "Boxiana." In that little snuggery, 
 where a substantial joint ever oniamontod the table, punctually at half-past one, 
 I have met with members of parliament, authors, barristers, doctors, and coun- 
 try gentlemen who were on friendliest terms with Tom. Perhaps, also, they 
 might come to sec the bright eyes of Tom's niece — the rosiest and plumpest 
 of feminines ! Tom Spring was a fair fighter and an honest man. He realized 
 a considerable sum by his business of innkeeper. — M. 
 
 X The late Sir John Newport, a patriot in the Irish and a plnccman in thi 
 English Parliament. He was Comptroller of the Exchequer, wiili £2000 a 
 year 8alary, for many years, but lent himself to a scandalous job, connected
 
 278 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Canning- may give tlie lie to Brougham,* and Biougliam be a Christian ; 
 
 Hume may be puffing Cariile,t or waging a war upon Cocker; 
 
 Byron may write a poem, and IJazlitt a Liber Amoris ;t 
 
 Nobody cares a fig for the Balaam of Baron or Cockney. 
 
 All were absorbed at once in the one profound speculation, 
 
 Who was the man to be the new pugilistical Dymoke.§ 
 
 Neat and the Gasman put up, and the light of Gns was extinguished. 
 Woe is ni}' heart for Gas ! accursed be the wheel of the waggon 
 Which made a pancake|| of blood of the head of that elegant fellow. 
 He had no chance with Neat; the fist of that brawny Bristolian 
 Laid him in full defeat on the downs of Hungerford prostrate. 
 Great was the fame of Bill ; the ancient city of Bristol 
 [Bristol, the birth-place dear of the Laureate LL.D. Southey — 
 Bristol, tne birth-place too of Thomas Cribb the ex-Championl 
 
 with it, in 1839. At that date, the Melbourne Ministry was so nearly *' done 
 lip" that some of its members, whose private fortune was small, looked out for 
 the loss of place and jiay. Among these was Mr. Spring Rice, Chancellor of 
 the Exchequer, with £5000 a year salary". He prevailed on Old Newport to 
 resign his £2000 per annum as Comptroller of the Exchequer, obtained a re- 
 tiring pension of £1000 out of the public revenue, made up anothei- £1000 a 
 year out of his own pocket, and had liimself appointed to llie then vacated 
 Comptrollership, which he has held ever since. Newport lived for a few years 
 — at a cost to the coimtry of £1000 a year and of as much more to Mr. Spring 
 Rice, who was created Lord Monteagle on quitting the Ministry. — M. 
 
 * Alluding to Canning's celebrated response '' I rise to say that that is false" 
 to Brougham, who charged him, in Parliament, with being guilty of " most 
 monstrous political tergiversation." — M. 
 
 t Richard Carlile who, for many years, kept a shop in Fleet street, London, 
 for the sale of irreligious publications, was repeatedly convicted and impris- 
 oned, and finally became an itinerant preacher of the Gospel.- — M. 
 
 t " Liber Amoris, or the Modern Pygmalion," was an imforiunate book, by 
 William Hazlitt, in which is detailed how he loved a tailor's daughter and was 
 jilted by her. — M. 
 
 ^S Dymoke of Scrivelsbayc is hereditary Champion of England, and one of 
 the family appeared, as such, at the gorgeous Coronation of George IV. — M. 
 
 II " My troth, gin yon chield had shaved twa inches nearer you, your head, 
 my man, would have lookit very like a bluidy pancake." — Reginald Dalton. 
 
 You see I agree with Soulhej', a man for whom I have a particular esteem, 
 that people ought to indicate the most minute sources of information. Yet the 
 Doctor is not always so fair — the most splendid jiassage in his Roderick is 
 merely a transcript of a conversation I had with him on the top of ono of the 
 Bristol coaches in the year 1814; and yet I do not recollect that he anywhere 
 alludes to the circumstance. Lideed, he seldom mentions my name in any of 
 his writings. Yet I respect him highly, and frequently mention him in my 
 works.— M. OD.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 279 
 
 Hiiiled biin willi grecliiigs loiul ; iuk], bolilly decluririg liiin miitchlcs.s, 
 Challenged tlie boxing world lo try liis valour in contest. 
 
 London replied lo the ciill — the land of the Cockneys, indignant 
 At this *yokel attempt to set up a Champion provincial, 
 Looked with its gfcat big eyes at Spiing, and Spring understood it, 
 Everything soon was arranged; the lime was fixed for the battle; 
 Cash on each side was posted, a cool two hundred of sovereigns; 
 And the affair was put beneath the guidance of Jackson.t 
 
 I sha'n't ilehiy my song to say, how some Justices tasteless 
 Twice by the felon hand of power prevented the conibat.t 
 Vain the attempt as base — as well the clashing of comets 
 AVould be i>revented by them, as the onslaught of pugilist rivals. 
 
 When the great daj' arrived, big with the glory of Britain, 
 Bustle be sure there was, and riding, and running, and racing; 
 Nay, for three days befoi-e, the roads were wofully crowded; 
 All the inns were beset, each bed had a previous engagement; 
 So, if you came in late, you were left in a bit of a hobble — 
 Either to camp in the street, or sleep on three chairs in the bar-room. 
 Chaises, coaches, barouches, taxed carts, tilburies, whiskeys, 
 Curricles, shandry-dans, gigs, tall phaetons, jaunting cars, waggons, 
 Cabriolets, landaus, all sorts of vehicles rolling. 
 
 Four-wheeled, or two-wheeled, drawn by one, two, three, or four horses ; 
 Steeds of vaiious degi'ees, high-mettled racer, or hunter. 
 Bit of blood, skin-and-boner, pad, hack, mule, jackass, or donkey ;$ 
 Sniffers on foot in droves, by choice or economy prompted ; 
 Grambling Radical, pickpocket Whig, and gentleman Tory, 
 Down from ducal rank to the rascally fisher of fogies, !| 
 Poured from London town to sec the wonderful action. 
 Thirty thousand at least wore there; and ladies in numbers 
 Rained from their beautiful eyes sweet influence over the buffers. 
 
 Well the ground was chosen, and quite with the eye of a poet ; 
 Close to the field of fight, the land all rises around it, 
 Amphitheatrical wise, in a most judgmatical fashion. 
 There had the Johnny-raws of Hants tti'cn places at leisure, 
 
 * Yokel. — Provinciiil, I o])ine; but am not sure. If wrong, shall correct in 
 srcoiid edition ; or, at all events, in time fur the third. — M. OD. 
 
 t Jackson, once a prize-fighter; afterward a teacher of pugilism. Lord 
 Byron, who was one of his pupils, has repeatedly mentioned him — always 
 with i)raise. In his more advanced years, when I saw him, the gravity of his 
 aspect and gentleness of his manners were particularly observable. — M. 
 
 X A magistrate in England always possesses, and sometimes has exercised, 
 the power of preventing prize-fights — as leading lo breaches of the peace. — M. 
 
 § Jackass, or donkey. — I mean the four-footed animals. No allusion what- 
 ever to any he or she Whig — they being biped. — M. OD. 
 
 II Fisher of fogies, i. e. pickpocket. A fugle is a handkerchief. — M. OD.
 
 280 THE ODOHERTY PAPEES. 
 
 Many an hour before the combatants canne to the turn-iip. 
 
 We were not idle, be sure, aUhough we waited in patience; 
 Drink of all sorts and shapes was kindly provided to cheer us; 
 Ales from the famous towns of Burton, Marlboro', Taunton; 
 Porter from lordly Thames, and beer of various descriptions; 
 Brandy of Gallic growth, and rum from the isle of Janniica ; '^ 
 
 Deady, and heavy wet, blue ruin, max, and Geneva ; 
 Hollands that ne'er saw Holland, mum, brown stout, perry, and cyder ; 
 Spirits in all ways prepared, stark-naked, hot or cold watered; 
 Negus, or godlike grog, flip, lambswool, syllabub, rumbo ; 
 Toddy, or punch, or shrub, or the much sung stingo of gin-twist; 
 Wines, in proportions less, their radiance intermingling.* 
 Flowed like a stream round the ring, refreshing the dry population. 
 Glad was I in my soul, though I missed my national liquor. 
 And with a tear in my eye my heart fled back into Ireland. 
 tWhiskey, my jewel dear, what though I have chosen a dwelling 
 Far away, und my thront is now-a-days moistened by Hodges, — 
 Drink of my early days, I swear I shall never forget thee ! 
 Round the ring we sat, the stiff stuff tipsily quaffing. { 
 [Thanks bo to thee. Jack Keats; our ihanks for the dactyl and spondee 
 Pestleman Jack, whom, accordiiig to Shelley, the Quarterly murdered^ 
 With a critique as fell as one of his own patent medicines.] 
 
 Gibbons appeared at last; and, with adjutants versed in the business, 
 Drove in the stakes and roped them. The hawbuckjl Hottentot Hantsmen 
 Felt an objection to be whipped out of the ring by the Gibbons. 
 Fight was accordingly shewn, and Bill, afraid of the numbers, 
 Kept his whip in peace, awaiting the coming of Jackson. 
 Soon dill his eloquent tongue tip off the blarney among them ; 
 
 * Their ra-di-ance inter-mingling. — There is a fine spondaic fall. What do 
 you think of that, Doctor Carey? Read the line over three times before you 
 answer. It must put you in mind of 
 
 " Ag-mi-na circum-spexit." — Virg. — M. OD. 
 
 t IVJiiskei/, my jeioel dear, &c. — These fine lines are imitated from the Vision 
 of Judgment. See the passage beginning, " Bristol, my birth-])lace dear, what 
 though I have chosen a dwelling," *&c. &c. — M. OD. 
 
 t Tipsily quaffing. — From a poem about Bacchus, written by poor Jack 
 Keats, a man for whom I had a particular esteem. I never can read the Qnar- 
 tei-ly of late, on account of the barbarous murder it committed on that promising 
 young man. Murray can never come to luck. Indeed, since Keat's death, 
 he has been publishing Sardanapalus, and Cain, and Fleury's Memoirs, &c. &c. 
 which must give some satisfaction to the injured shade of the deceased. — - 
 M. OD. 
 
 $ " Strange that the soul, that very fiery particle, 
 Should let itself be muffled out by an article." — M. 
 
 11 Hairhich. — Johnnv Riiw to the last degree. — M. OD.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 281 
 
 And what force could not do, soft tnlk performed in a ji(?y. 
 
 Aiin-iii-;um with his backer and Belcher, followed by Hurmer, 
 Neat in a moment appeared, and instantly flung- down his castor. 
 In about ten minutes more, came Spring, attended by Painter; 
 Cribb, the illustrious Cribb, however, acted as second.* 
 Compliments, then, were oxchang-ed, hands shaken, after the fashion 
 Of merry England for ever, the beef-eating land of the John Bulls. 
 Blue as the arch of Heaven, or the much-loved eyes of my darling, 
 Was the colour of Spring — to the stakes Cribb tied it in person. 
 Yellow, like Severn streams, when the might of rain has descended, 
 Shone forth the kerchief of Neat. Tom Belcher lied it above Spring's — 
 But with a delicate twist, Tom Cribb reversed the ai-rangement, 
 Putting the blue above. The men then peeled for the onset. 
 Twenty minutes past One P.M. — So far for a preface. 
 
 Bounb tl)e iTirst. 
 
 Spring was a model of manhood. Cliantrey, Canova, or Scoular,t 
 
 Graved not a finer form ; his muscles firndy were filled up, 
 
 And with elastic vigour played all over his corpus ; 
 
 Fine did his deltoid show; his neck rose towering gently 
 
 Curved from the shoulder broad ; his back was lightsomely dropt in. 
 
 Over his cuticle spread a slightly ruddy suffusion. 
 
 Shewing his excellent state, and the famous care of his trainers; 
 
 Confidence beamed from his face ; his eye shone steady in valour. 
 
 Valiantly, too, looked Neat, a truly respectable butcher. 
 
 But o'er his skin the flush was but in irregular patches : 
 
 Even on his cheeks, the bloom was scarce the breadth of a dollar. 
 
 Gin, thou wert plainly there ! 1 would he had left thee to Haalitt,t 
 
 Ay, or to any one else, all during the process of training ! 
 
 Bootless 'tis now to complain — Bill Neat, you were bothered by Daffy !<J 
 
 Long did they pause ere liiey hit — much cautious dodging and guarding 
 
 Siiewed their respect for each other; four tedious minutes, ere either 
 
 Struck, had elapsed ; at last Tom Spring hit out with the left hand, 
 
 So did Bill Neat with the right, but neither blovir did the business, 
 
 Neat then made up for offence, and flung out a jolly right-hander, 
 
 Full for the stomach of Spring ; but Spring judiciously stopped it, 
 
 * Thomas Cribb, ex-Champion of England. Like most of his calling, he 
 devoted his later years to keeping a public house, and (also like most ex- 
 pugilists) was gentle as a lamb in private life. — M. 
 
 t Scoular. His head of D. Bridges ranks with Chantrey's of Sir W. Scott. 
 
 X Hazlitt, thus labelled as a gin-drinker, invariably made " potations pottle 
 deep" of — tea. He took it very strong, and in such large 'quantities that it 
 assisted to shatter his nervous system. — M. 
 
 $ Gin.— M.
 
 282 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Else it had flattened the lad as flat us the flattest of flounders: 
 
 Even as it was, it contused the fleshy part of his forc-arni. 
 
 Neat tried the business again — 'twas now more happily pairied. 
 
 Spiing-, with a smile at the thought of the smash he had given to Bill's fist, 
 
 Put down Lis bauds for a wliile, but soon gnthered up to the onset; 
 
 Hit and re-bit now passed, hut Neat threw oif a right-hander 
 
 Meant for rortain efft'Cf. The true scienlifical manner 
 
 Shewn by William in this was loftily cheered by the audience. 
 
 Thunders of clapping ensued, and the whole ring roared like a bullock, 
 
 Neat grew offensive now, but the stop and parry of Winter 
 
 [Winter is Spiing's real name, thougii they call him, for brevity, Tom Spring.] 
 
 Punished him step by step, as Bill drove him into the corner. 
 
 " Now is the time," cried Belcher, and Bristol waited the triumph, 
 
 But the position of Spring prevented all awkward invasion. 
 
 In-fighting then was tried, that came to a close and a struggle: 
 
 Under came Billy Neat, as Ajax under Ulysses. 
 
 Spring came over him hard — and 3 to 2 was the betting. 
 
 Hottub tl)C Scronb. 
 
 Spring shewed the snmo strong guard, but ever ready for action. 
 
 Neat began to breathe slioit, when, WAP ! came a flushy right-hander, 
 
 Pluiup on his fore-head, and, lo ! the stream of the claret was flowing, 
 
 ^Sanguine as butchers will bleed, not at all like the ichor of angels. 
 
 Out did he hit to the right — Spring sprung back — Neat again tried it, 
 
 But, on the side of the head, he got such a lump of a twister, 
 
 That he was turned quite round, and nearly saluted his mother.t 
 
 Stupid and senseless he looked like a young whig lawyer of Embro' — 
 
 (Some little luealy-fuced pup, amazeil with a recent suffusion 
 
 From the uplifted leg of some big boardly bull-dog of Blackwood) — 
 
 Then did the hooting arise, from various people indignant; 
 
 And, in the hubbub loud, " Cross, Cross!" was frequently mentioned. 
 
 This brought Neat lo his senses, and straight he took to in-fighting. 
 
 Bloody hard hits came from both — 'twas head-work cliiefly between them : 
 
 Down in the end went Neat, and bine looked the betters of Bristol! 
 
 HouuD tl)c Sljirb. 
 
 Neat tried his ha!id at hard hitting — and then were the heavy exchanges. 
 But in one counter-hit, his blow was heavier than Tommy's, 
 For it sent him away. Bill Neat then burst out a-laughing, 
 
 * Saiigiiine as huicher's will bleed, not at all like the ichor of angels. — 
 " Froin the gash 
 
 A stream of nectareous humour issuing, flowed 
 
 Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed." — Milton. — M. OD. 
 t His mother, i e. the Earth. This I exphiin foi- the groundliiigs. — M. OD.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 283 
 
 Like llie Olvnipiiin Gods ut Vulcan handing the stingo. 
 
 He followed up his success; and after ringing the changes, 
 
 Planted a terrible lungo on the short-rib department of Tliomaa. 
 
 Then lie gave all his weight to a blow, and floored his opponent, 
 
 Coming down with him himself. On this, a terrible uproar 
 
 Rose from the Men of the West — a shout of jubilant cheering. 
 
 Short is the vision of man ! that very round had undone him, 
 
 For, in the counter-hit, he btoke a bono in his fore-arm. 
 
 What is the name of the bone ? — Well, since you ask me the question, 
 
 Radius, 'tis called by Cline, a most anatomical surgeon.* 
 
 Hounb tl)c JTonrtf). 
 
 Firm was the guard of Spring; Neat worked most iinxious to get in — 
 
 Vaiiilj for Spring baffled all his attempts, just as if he was sparring. 
 
 Soon he look the offensive, and the woful yokels of Avon 
 
 Heard his fists, right and left, rap ! rap ! on the body of Billy. t 
 
 One — two nobbers, besides, did he administer freely; 
 
 All the while poor Bill felt out for the ribs with the left hand ; 
 
 Every hit being short, and the right hand quite ineffective: 
 
 Backward and forward jumped Spring, and grasping his burly opponent. 
 
 Caught him up from the ground, and fell down fairly upon him. 
 
 Glorious! sublime was the feat, and there was no saying against it. 
 
 Bristol looked very blank, as blank as the Island of Byron. t 
 
 Loud did the Westerns cry, " Bill, what has become of your right hand? 
 
 Gemini, man ! My eyes ! Hey! Go it ! 'What arc you «r<er .'"§ 
 
 Betting was .5 to 1. — In fact, Bill Neat was defeated. 
 
 Lump we a couple of rounds, for I'm in a devilish hurrj', 
 BeiiW invited to dine at the Dog ami Duck with Pierce Eganll 
 
 * Henry Cline, who was " a most anatomical surgeon," was also held in high 
 repute by his pupils and the profession, as a lecturer and demonstrator. He 
 died in 1827.— M. 
 
 t Heard hisjisls, right and left, rap ! rap ! on Ike body of Billy. — Imitated 
 from 
 
 " Heard the bell from the tower toll ! toll ! in tlie silence of evening." 
 
 SOUTHEY. — M. OD. 
 
 t "The Island; or Clirislian and his Comrades," the last written of Byron's 
 tales, bears date " Genoa, October, 1823." — M. 
 
 § Arler. — Bristolian for after. — M. OD. 
 
 II Pierce Egan, author of " Boxiana" and "Life in London," was a great 
 sporting authority thirty years ago, and, as sucli, often referred to by the con- 
 tributors to Blackwood. — M.
 
 284 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Neat was quite stiipifie<l now,* a more Phrenological fellow, 
 
 Wlio, as we happen to know, can not tell a man's head from a turnip. 
 
 All his hits were at random ; on getting- a bodier slanting, 
 
 Down he'd have gone for lime, hut Spring, with the kindest intentions, 
 
 Lent him a merry-go-down, to freshen his way in the tumble. 
 
 Murmurs then were of foul play, ns if he had fallen out of fancy 
 
 Without the aid ofrithit; but Jackson, unerring as Delphi, 
 
 Stated the fact as it was, "and decision dwelt on his dictate. 
 
 As for round the sixth, 'tis hardjy'worth the relating. 
 
 Neat was pelted about, and knocked down like a cow in the shamldes. 
 
 Hounb li)e QcucntI). 
 
 Still there was pluck in Bill; Spring feared a customer rummish. 
 
 Cautiously, therefore, he fought and parried the sinister lunges. 
 
 One, however, took place on the right lower ribs of the hero. 
 
 Whereon he sparred for a hit, which he planted with ease and affection, 
 
 Right on the brain-box of Neat, who, though not given to praying, 
 
 Sunk on his marrow-bones straight, in a fashion godly and pious. 
 
 Instantly rose a shout, a riff-raff-ruffianly roaring, 
 
 Hallabulloo immense, a most voluminous volley; 
 
 Cockneyland crowed like a cock, and the hills gave an echo politely. 
 
 Kottttb €igl)tl) anil £ast. 
 
 Neat came up once more, but the fight was over; again he 
 Hit with the dexter arm, and_/<»/i that he now was defeated. 
 Spring in a moment put in a ramstam belly-go fister — 
 Down to the ground went Neat, and with him down went the battle. 
 " It is no use," said Bill ; " my arm, do you see me, is injured — 
 Therefore I must give in." He spoke — and, mournfully placing 
 On the sore part his hand, he shewed the fracture to Tom Spring. 
 Seven-and-thirty minutes it lasted — ten of them wasted 
 In the first round alone. The glorious news came to London 
 Somewhere about eight o'clock ; but still incredulous people 
 Held the report as false ; and, even approaching to midnight, 
 Bets were laid on Neat — so much was Spring undervalued. 
 
 Woe vv^as in Bristol town — woe, woe on the Severn and Avon; 
 Clifton, the seat of the gay, looked dull and awfully gloomy ; 
 Grief was in Bath the polite; a mournful air of dejection 
 Reigned o'er the tables of whist; and mugs, as fair as the morning. 
 
 * A mere Phrenological fellom, who, as we happen to know, cannot tell a mans 
 head from a turnip. — See the organization of that celebrated Swede, Professor 
 Tornhippson, as developed in those two scientific works, the Transactions of 
 the Phrenological Societv, and the Noctes Ambrosiuiiie, No. VIII. — M. OD.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 285 
 
 Looketl like llie ten of spades, or the face of my Lord Grim- Grizzle." 
 
 Rouiul the old Redcliff elmrcht was held an aggregate meeting, 
 
 jStoimy and sad by fits — where some, with sceptical speeches. 
 
 Doubted the fact of the case — or, cunningly crooUipg the fingers, 
 
 Made a X i'l iho open air, affronting the moQiJiitfeams ; 
 
 Oihers hut shook ihe head, and jingled tfie coin iii their pockets, 
 
 Cheering themselves with the much-loved sound of tlia,"gold for the lust lime. 
 
 But in the shiimhles of Bristol, among ilip4)utcherly pcoph', 
 
 There was ihe blackness of sorrow; loSfejjBfhs, oi sorrowful moaning, 
 
 Rung in the seat of slaughter — but slaiTfPer now waisuspkcnded; 
 
 Mute was the marrow-bone now, the ancient music of Britain ; 
 
 Cleaver, and bloody axe, steel, hand-saw, chogjnng-block, hatchet, 
 
 Lay in a grim repose ; and the hungry people or Bi^tol 
 
 Could not the following day get a single joint for their dinner. 
 
 But when the cross was suggested, $the whole black body of butchers 
 
 Raged, like a troubled sea, wiih a wild and WHtinous uproar. 
 
 Such was the state of the West. Meanwhile Spring travelled to London, 
 There to be hailed as the Champion bold of merry Old England. 
 Neat he saw in bed — his arm was fastenejd witii splinters — 
 And in the heel of his fist Tom nobly inserted some shiners. 
 Bill was sulky, however ; and still he lustily vaunted. 
 
 That, if his arm had not broke, he must have been hailed as the Champion- 
 That can be known, however, to the Fates and Jupiter only. 
 
 Where are the chaffers now, who swore that Spring was no liitter? 
 That he could scarce make a dint in a pound or a half-pound of butter? — 
 Melted all fast away, like the butter of which they were speaking. 
 Long live the Champion Spring ! and may his glorious annals 
 Shine in the pages of Egan|| as bright as the record of Tom Cribb! 
 One man more must be fought, however; — Arise to the combat, 
 
 * Face of my Lord Grim-Grizzle. — An acquaintance of Mr. Lambton's, who 
 calls him the Erl-King. Mark the spondaic again, Dr. Carey. — RL OD. 
 [Earl Grey, father-in-law of ^Ir. Lambton, afterward Earl of Durham.— M.] 
 
 + Redcliff Church, in Bristol, the scene of Chatterton's early studies. — M. 
 
 t Stormy and sad by fits. — See Homer, II. 7. " A meeting of Trojans was 
 held," says the old fellow, 
 
 Ac'i"; Kai TCTpri^via, K. r. A. 
 Is not mine something like? — M. OD. — [Of course. — C. N.] 
 
 § The whole black body of butchers rag;ed like a troubled sea, with a wild and 
 mulitwus iiproar. — Imitated from 
 
 " The whole dense body of darkness 
 
 Raged like a troubled sea, with a wild tind mutinous uproar." — Southet. 
 I quote from memory. — M. OD. 
 
 II Pierce Egan was not only author of " Boxiana," but Editor of the sporting 
 paper, Bell's Life in London. — M.
 
 286 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Rise for llie Cliampion's crown, arise, I say, Joshua Hudson I* 
 That will be the fight — meanwhile Spring lords the ascendant; 
 Therefore huzza for Spring- — and I make my bow to the public. 
 ["To-morrow for fresh fights and jiastures new."] — Milton. 
 
 M. OD. 
 
 *^* It is an undoubted historical fact, that Neat's brotlier- 
 liood, the butchers of Bristol, betted particularly thick upon 
 him. He must be a rigid moralist, indeed, who would condemn 
 this. " ButcJterus sum, hutclieriani nihil a me alienum puto," 
 Avill hold as truly, ay, and more truly, than the original passage 
 of the dramatist, which asserted, that all human cares were par- 
 ticipated in by all human beings. The butchers, consequently, 
 Avere severe sufferers ; one poor flesher bled to the tune of six 
 hundred pounds — an amiable man, with an interesting wife and 
 six small children. The green visage of the Sheriff was seen 
 in the market ; and a vast quantity of the implements by which 
 the most powerful of cattle fell, fell themselves in turn under 
 the fatal hammer of the auctioneer. It is not wonderful, under 
 such circumstances, that the butchers should shew much sore 
 flesh. Among them it is a general belief that Neat did cross it; 
 and accordingly he is not so popular a preacher as the Reverend 
 Neddy Irving, by several degrees. Besides, national pride is 
 against the belief, that a Herefordshire man, bred in London, 
 should subdue the flower of Bristol, the wonder of the western 
 land. Neat, hoAvever, is indignant at the idea, and lays the 
 whole circumference of the blame upon his broken radius. We 
 happened to be by in Bristol, when a young gentleman, six 
 feet two high, of a mild countenance, slightly pitted Avith the 
 small-pox, and considerably bloAvn up Avith brandj^ Avas coming 
 off" a Southampton coach, in company Avith his fatlier, a very 
 decent-looking seventecn-stone old body. The father and son 
 were convei'sing affably about the late event, Avhich has brought 
 more ruin on the Avestern empire than any disaster since the 
 days of Honorius ; and the son, just as he stepped down, re- 
 marked gently, " By , Neat sold the fight." A man of a 
 
 certain appearance, Avith his right arm in a sling, was standing 
 by, and asked, Avith more energy than politesse, "Who the 
 blazes dost thee speak of?" — "Why," said tlie youth, "Neat, 
 
 ^ Josh HuilsoM did not fight Spring. — M.
 
 AN IDYL ON THE BATTLE. 287 
 
 who sold the fight." On -which the man of the arm, putting 
 forth his sinister bunch of fives, sahited the youngster under the 
 ear with a blow that projected him about seven feet six inches 
 across the street, deposited him in a place of safety in the sink, 
 and sent the blood gushing forth, with the most fluent liberality, 
 from mouth, nose, and oars, "Now," said the striker, "I'm 
 Neat; what dost thee say to that?" — "Nothing at all," replied 
 the strikee, " only that I am satisfied." 
 
 But forty thousand knock-down bloAvs Avould not satisfy the 
 body-politic of the butchers. "We were ourself in company 
 with a very interesting and ingenious person of that tribe, with 
 whom we had much conversation. He is a truly fine and ami- 
 able butcher, who had lost a quantity of cash on the fight. He 
 vented his indignation sadly against Bill Neat, and his wrath 
 would not be appeased. He ventured to suggest, that Bill's arm 
 being broken, quite did up all his chance ; and hinted, that, in 
 fact, he had no chance even without the smash of his bone. In 
 truth, we may as well at once tell the reader, that we look upon 
 Spring as the better man — tardy to be sure, something like a, 
 British reviewer, but still of guard inpenetrable, great coolness, 
 great courage, and great science. Neat is a man more of genius 
 than cultivation — in rufiianing superb, in skill defective. Now, 
 as we know that they are men of equal weight, or that the dif- 
 ference, if any, is for Spring, he being 3 pounds heavier, and 
 that he has the advantage of being a nicer height, viz. 5 feet 
 Hi- inches, while Neat is 6 feet i inch, we say that no rujfianosity 
 can ever beat science imder such circumstances. This Ave stated 
 with our utmost eloquence to our friend the butcher, but in vain. 
 He had a preconceived theory that Neat could beat, and icould 
 not, which no facts could conquer. Undoubtedly, however, our 
 friend, the feller of oxen, is a man of genius; for he wrote a 
 song in the height of his indignation, of which he kindly gave 
 us a copy, on condition that we should keep it a secret. We 
 therefore commit it in confidence to our readers : — 
 
 LAMENT OF A BIG P.niSTOL BUTCHKR. 
 1. 
 
 I was ;is raw as biiulior's moat, 
 I «as as green as caULago,
 
 288 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 When I sported blunt on Billy Neat, 
 The ugly-looking savage. 
 
 2. 
 
 I was as dull as Bristol stone, 
 
 And as the Severn muddy, 
 Or I should have had the humbug known, 
 
 Of that big bruiser bloody. 
 
 3. 
 
 I was as dull as a chopping-block, 
 
 As stupid as a jnck-ass, 
 Or I'd not have laid on such a cock 
 
 One whiff of my tobaccoes. 
 
 4. 
 For budding flower, or leafing tree, 
 
 I now don't care a splinter; 
 For Spring is a colder thought to me 
 
 Than the bitterest day of AVinter. 
 
 5. 
 Woe, woe unto the market-place ! 
 
 Woe, woe among the cleavers ! 
 For sad is every greasy face 
 
 Among Bill Neat's believers. 
 
 6. 
 
 I'm rooked of notes both small and great, 
 
 I'm rooked of every sovereign ; 
 So bloody curses on Bill Neat, 
 
 Whatever king may govern ! 
 
 AVe do not hesitate to say, that the author of these verses is 
 a poet, and are not without a hope, that the same age, which 
 saw raised from humble degree to the heights, or at least de- 
 clivities, of Parnassus, such souls as those of our own, our dear 
 friend Hogg the Shepherd of Ettrick, or, to leave him out of the 
 question, of Clare the hedger, Cunningham the mason, Bloomfield 
 the herd, Keats the apothecary, and Mrs. Yearsley the milk- 
 woman, Avill also have the happiness of Avitnessing the rise and 
 progress of the author of this Lament, Humphry Huggins, the 
 butcher. 
 
 Quod Testor, 
 
 M. OD.
 
 A TWIST-IMONY IN FAVOUR OF GIN-TWIST. 
 
 289 
 
 ^ QTtDist-imons in Sanonx of ©in-QTwist.* 
 
 Alt humble imitation of thai admirable Poem, llie Ex-alc-lation of Ale, allribu- 
 ted by grave authors to Bishop Andrews, on which point is to be consulted, 
 Francis, Lord Verulam, a celebrated Philosopher, who has been lateli/ be- 
 scopcd-and tendencied by Macvey Napier, Esq. 
 
 At one in ihc morn, as t went stag^geiing home, 
 With nothing at all in my hand, but my fist, 
 
 At the end of the street, a good youth I did meet 
 Who ask'd me to join in a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Running Index, of 
 MaUers. 
 ProcEm. 
 
 " Though 'tis late," I replied, " and I'm muggj' beside, 
 Yet, an offer like this I could never resist; 
 
 So let's waddle awaj', sans a moment's delay, 
 
 And in style we'll demolish your jug of gin-twist." 
 
 Gill-twist. 
 
 Tbe friends of the grape, may boast of rich Cape, 
 Hock, Claret, Madeira, or Lachryma Christ, 
 
 But this muzzle of mine was never so fine. 
 
 As to value them more than a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 4. 
 
 The people of Nantz, in the Kingdom of France, 
 Bright brandy they brew, liquor not to be hiss'd ; 
 
 It may do as a dram, but, 'tis not worth a damn, 
 When vater'd, compai'ed with a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Wines 
 
 Brandy. 
 
 Antigua, Jamaica, — they certainly make a 
 
 Grand species of rum, which should ne'er be dismiss'd ; 
 It is splendid as grog, but never, you dog. 
 
 Esteem it as punch, like a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Rum. 
 
 * This curious poem, in which such a variety of words are pressed into the 
 service, as rhymes to f^in-trcist , appeared in Blackwood for November, 1822. 
 The fluid thus immortalized is nothing more nor less than punch — made of gin 
 instead of whiskey, and rather freely flavoured with a greater quantity of the 
 essential oil of lemon, obtainable by rubbing a lump of sugar on the rind of a 
 lemon, or by infusing thin parings of said lenion-rind into the sugared and 
 spirited hot fluid. — M. 
 
 Vol. I.— 13
 
 290 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Cold Puucb. 
 
 Potsheen.* 
 
 Tbe Celtic. 
 
 Kilts. 
 
 Breeches. 
 
 Rack. 
 
 Porter and Ale. 
 
 6. 
 
 Ye Bailies of Glasgow! Wise men of tlie West! 
 
 Without your rum bowls, you'll look certainly tristcs; 
 Yet I laugh when I'm told, that liquor so cold 
 
 Is as good as a foaming hot jug of gin-twist. 
 
 7. 
 The bog-irotling Teagues, in clear whiskey delight, 
 
 Preferring jiotsheen to all drinks that exist; 
 I grieve, ne'ertheless, that it does not possess 
 
 The juniper smack of a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 8. 
 Farintosh and Glenlivil, I hear, are the boast 
 
 Of those breechcsless heroes, the Sons of the Mist ; 
 But, may I go choke, if that villainous smoke 
 
 I'll nunic in a day with a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 9. 
 Yet the Celtic I love, and should join them, by Jove! 
 
 Though Glengarry should vow I'd no light to enlist ; 
 For that Chief, do you see, I'd not care a bawbee. 
 
 If strongly entrench'd o'er a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 10. 
 One rule they lay ilown is the reason, I own, 
 
 Why from joining their plaided array I desist; 
 Because they declare, that no one shall wear 
 
 Of breeches a pair, o'er their jugs of gin-twist. 
 
 11. 
 This is plainly absurd, I give you my word, 
 
 Of this bare-rump'd reg'lation I ne'er saw the gist ; 
 In my gay corduroys, can't these philabeg boys 
 
 Suffer me to get drunk o'er my jug of gin-twist? 
 
 12. 
 In India they smack a liquor call'ii rack, 
 
 Which I never quafl''d, (at least that I wist ;) 
 I'm told 'tis like tow in its taste, and so, 
 
 Very different stuff fioni a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 13. 
 As for porter and ale — 'fore Gad, I turn pale, 
 
 When people on such things as these can insist; 
 They may do for dull clods, but, by all of the gods ! 
 
 They are hog-wash when match'd with a jug of gin-twist, 
 
 * Potskecn is 
 but potheen — a 
 
 not tlic word, (as may be found by reference to Maxim 132,) 
 ! made ill a liale pot. — M.
 
 A TWIST-I.MOXY IX FAVOUR OF GIN-TWIST. 
 
 291 
 
 Tea. 
 
 Hitzlit, Hunt, Eohca, 
 Z* 
 
 14. 
 AVliy tea we import, I could lievi'v conceive; 
 
 To the mandarin folk, to be sure, it brings grist; 
 But in our western soils, the spirits it spoils, 
 
 While to heaven they are raised by a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 16. 
 Look at Hazlilt and Hunt, most unfortunate pair! 
 
 Black and blue from the kicks of a stern satirist; 
 But would Mynheer Izzard once trouble their gizzard, 
 
 If bohea they exchanged fur a, jug of gin-twist? 
 
 16. 
 Leibnitz held that this earth was the first of all worlds, 
 
 And no wonder the buck was a firm optimist; 
 F(u- 'twas al's'ays his use, as a proof to adduce, 
 
 Of the truth of his doctrine, a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 17. ' 
 
 It cures all the vapours and mulligrub capers; 
 
 It makes you like Howard, the philanthro-pist ; 
 Woe, trouble, and pain, tliat bother your brain, 
 
 Are banish'd out clean, l)y a jug of gin-twist, 
 
 18. 
 You turn up your nose at all your foes. 
 
 Abuse you, traduce you, they may if they list: 
 The lawyers, I'm sure, would look very poor. 
 
 If their clients would stick to their jugs of gin-twist. 
 
 19. 
 There's Leslie, my fnend, who went ramstam to law, 
 
 Because Petre had styled him a poor Hebraist; 
 And you see how the Jury, in spite of his fui-y, 
 _ Gave him comfort far less than one jug of giti-tvvist. 
 20. 
 And therefore, I guess. Sir, the celehre Professor, 
 Even though culpably quizz'd as a mei'e sciolist, 
 
 * Sundry articles, in each number of B/achcood, on the Cockney School of 
 Poeti-y, signed " Z.," and most personal on Hunt and Hazlitt, were generally 
 attributed to Lockhart. — ]\I. 
 
 t The actual optimist theory of Leibnitz was that an infinite number of worlds 
 are possible in the divine understanding; but, of all possible ones, God has 
 chosen and formed the best. Also, that each being is intended to attain tlie 
 iiighest degree of happiness of which it is capable, and is to contribute, as a 
 part, to the perfection of the whole. — M. 
 
 i Dr. Olinthus Petre, — one of Maginn's noins de plume, and that under 
 which he attacked Sir John Leslie. — I\I. 
 
 Leibnitz.t 
 
 Howard. 
 
 Law of libe 
 
 Mr. Leslie and Dr. 
 Olinthus Petre.J 
 
 Leslie and Kit North.
 
 292 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Stranguary. 
 
 Would have found it much meeter, to have laugh'd at oUl 
 Petre, 
 And got (hunk with Kit North o'er a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Its medical virtues 
 
 21. 
 
 a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Biockdeu Brown. 
 
 Cosmogony. 
 
 Geology. 
 
 By its magical aid, a toper is made, 
 
 Like Brockden Brown's hero, a ventriloquist; 
 
 For my belly cries out, with an audible shout, 
 " Fill up every chink with a jug of gin-twist," 
 
 U3. 
 Geologers all, gi'eat, middling, and small, 
 
 Whether fiery Plutonian or wet Ncptunist, 
 Most gladly, it seems, seek proofs for their schemes, 
 
 In the water, or spirit, of a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 24. 
 These grubbers of ground, (whom God may confound!) 
 
 Forgetting transition, trap, hornblende, or scliist. 
 And all other sorts, think only of quaitz — 
 
 I mean, of the quarts in a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Parnassus. Though two dozen of verse I've contriv'd to rehearse, 
 
 Yet still I can sing like a true melodist; 
 For they are but asses, who think that Parnassus 
 In spirit surpasses a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 26. 
 The Massora. It makes you to speak Dutch, Latin, or Greek; 
 
 Even learning Chinese very much 'twould assist : 
 I'll discourse you in Hebrew, provided that ye brew 
 A most Massorethical jug of gin-twist. 
 
 27. 
 The Picturesque. When its amiable stream, all enveloped in steam, 
 Is dash'd to and fro by a vigorous wrist. 
 How sweet a cascade every moment is made 
 By the artist who fashions a jug of gin-twist ' 
 
 Whiggery. Sweet stream .' there is none but delights iti thy flow, 
 
 Save that vagabond villain, the Whig atheist;
 
 A TWIST-IMONY IN FAVOUR OF GIN-rVVIST. 
 
 293 
 
 For done wiis the job for bis patron, Sir Bob," 
 
 When he dared to wage war 'gainst a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 29. 
 Don't think, by its name, from Geneva it came, 
 
 The sour little source of the Kirlc Calvinist — 
 A fig for Jack Calvin, my processes alvine 
 
 Are much more rejoiced by u jug of gin-twist. 
 
 30. 
 Let the Scotsman deh'ght in malice and s])ite. 
 
 The blacli-legs at Brookes's, in hazard or whist ; 
 Tom Dibdin in books — MicUy Taylor in cooks. 
 
 My jileasure is fixed in a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 31. 
 Though the point of my nose grow as red as a rose, 
 
 Or rival in hue a superb amethyst. 
 Yet no matter for that, I tell you 'tis flat, 
 
 I shall still take a pull at a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 John Calvin. 
 
 Michael Angelo Twy 
 lor, Esq., M. P., &o.1 
 
 Precious stones. 
 
 There was old CleolniIu-!,j: who moaning to fool us, 
 Gave out for his saying, to mktpon apist'; 
 
 But he'd never keep measure, if he had but the pleasure 
 Of washing liis throat with a jug of gin-twist. 
 
 Wise Men of Greece. 
 
 * Sir R. Walpole ; justly turned out for taxing gin. He was the last decent 
 man who committed Whiggery, nevertheless. — M. OD. [The statement there 
 is incorrect. When Walpole returned to office in 1721, (on the retirement of 
 Ijord Sunderland, who was implicated in the South Sea scheme,) he shewed 
 himself a practical free-trader by abolishing the greater part of the petty duties 
 and impoverishing taxes which distracted the exportation of British manufac- 
 tures, and lessened the importation of the most necessary commodities. Tvv'elve 
 years later, he introduced his plan for subjecting the duties on wine and to- 
 bacco to the laws of excise — a measure so unpopular that he could not carry 
 it. This was in 1733, but certainly did not turn AV^alpole out of office, for he 
 continued prime minister until Fel)ruary, 1742, when he resigned, and was cre- 
 ated Earl of Oxford, with a pension of £4,000 a year. — M.] 
 
 t Michael Angelo Taylor, M. P., who resided near the House of Commons, 
 and was very popular with the Whig .party, during the Kegency and earlier 
 years of the reign of George IV., on account of his keeping a sort of free table 
 for his legislative friends and colleagues. — M. 
 
 t Cleobulus, one of the Seven Wise Men of Greece, born at Rhodes, in the 
 Glh century before Christ. — M.
 
 294 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Kisses. 
 
 Pluto 
 
 GuXarra Oa'SiiTTa, 
 
 Gou SAVE TijE King. 
 
 i^ornl. 
 
 33. 
 There are dniulios and blockheads, who vapour and boast 
 
 Of the favours of girls they never have kiss'd ; 
 That is not the thing, and therefore by jing-! 
 
 I kiss while I'm praising my jug of gin-twist. 
 
 34. 
 
 While over the glass, I should he an ass, 
 To make moping love like a dull Platonist; 
 
 That ne'er was my fashion, I swear that my passion 
 In as hot as itself for a jng of gin-twist. 
 
 35. 
 Although it is time to finish my rhyme, 
 
 Yet the subject's so sweet, I can scarcely desist; 
 While its grateful perfume is delighting the room, 
 
 How can I he mute o'er a jug of gin-twist? 
 
 3G." 
 Yet since I've made out, without any doubt, 
 
 Of its merits and glories a flourishing list. 
 Let us end with a toast, which we cherish the most. 
 
 Here's "God savk the King!" in a glass of gin-twist. 
 
 37. 
 Then I bade him good night in a most jolly plight, 
 
 But I'm sorry to Siiy that my footing I missed ; 
 All the stairs I fell down, so I baltor'd my crown, 
 ■ And got two black eyes from a jug of gin-twist.
 
 IRISH SONGS. 295 
 
 JfrisI) Songs.* 
 
 There is, I perceive, a disinclination becoming very visible 
 on the part of the English, to believe us Irish people, when we 
 tell them that they know nothing about us. They look upon it 
 as a sort of affront, and yet nothing is more true. And as ex- 
 amj)le is much better than any theory, I shall just beg leave to 
 prove my assertion, by that they put into our mouths when they 
 think fit to write as Irish. 
 
 The first book I lay my hand on will do. It is a collectiou 
 of Irish songs, published in London, without date, printed by 
 Oliver and Boyd. It contains all the popxdar Irish songs which 
 you hear sung at the theatres, public-houses, Vauxhall, and 
 other such fashionable places of resort. There are ninety of 
 them in all, and I shall patiently examine these specimens of 
 Irish wit — these Avould-be flowers of the Hibernian Parnassus. 
 
 The first song is a great favourite. The Sprig of Shillelah, 
 and it is not much amiss. It contains an immensity of blarney 
 to us, which, of course, is palatable. I suspect the author of 
 never having been in Ireland, nevertheless, from these lines : — 
 
 " Who lins e'er had the hick to see Doniiylirook fiiir, 
 An Iiishman all in his glory is there;" 
 
 for I have had the " luck" to see that fixir, and I never could see 
 any glory in it. It is a paltry thing, if compared Avith Barthol- 
 omew fair, or any of the great fairs in London ; axid like them 
 is a nuisance which gathers the blackguard men and women of 
 a metropolis, to indidge in all kinds of filth. I should call it 
 the worst specimen of Ireland. Would a Scotchman think his 
 national character would be favourably exhibited by a collection 
 of the cadies and baker-boys, and gutterbloods of Edinburgh, 
 with their trulls 1 And as Dublin is three times the size of 
 .Edinburgh, the sweepings of its streets must be three times as 
 disgusting. The squalid misery, too, which is mixed up with 
 the drunken riot of the fairs of Donnybrook, has always been 
 quite revolting to my eyes, and I should rather see the magis- 
 
 * This diticle appetired ia Bhirkirood,{ov March, 1825. — M.
 
 296 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 tracy of Dublin employed in suppressing it, than hear silly song- 
 writers using their rhymes in its panegyric. " 
 
 The next is Paddy MacShane's Seven Ages ; a stupid parody 
 on Shakespeare. A great knoAvledge of Ireland is shewn here. 
 Mr. MacShane, it appears, was a native of Ballyporeen, and fell 
 in love Avith a lady there — but 
 
 " SVie asked me just once that to see her I'd come, 
 AVhen I found her ten children -and husband at home, 
 A groat big whacking chairman of Ballyporeen .'" 
 
 Now Ballyporeen, Heaven bless it, is a dirty village, of about 
 fifty houses, at the foot of the Kilvvorth mountains, as you enter 
 Tipperary, on the mail-coach road from Cork to Dubhn. "When 
 I passed through it last, the only decent-looking house I saw 
 there was the inn ; and a poor one enough even that was. I 
 leave it to yourself to judge what a profitable trade that of a 
 chairman Avould be in such a place as that ; or how probable it 
 is that a woman with a husband and ten children could pass off, 
 incog., as unmarried, upon a native. You would walk from one 
 end to the other of it in three minutes. 
 Again he tells us that 
 
 " I turned servant, and lived with the great justice Pat, 
 A big dealer in p'ratoes at Ballyporeen, 
 With turtle and venison he lined his inside, 
 Ate so many fat capons," &c. 
 
 Potatoes are somewhere about the price of three half-pence 
 a-stone in Ballyporeen, and they are cultivated by almost every 
 one in it ; so that this excellent justice had a fine merchandize 
 of it. As for turtle, I imagine that the name of it was never 
 heard of in the village ; indeed, as Tipperary is quite an inland 
 county, it must be a rarity to every part of it — and capons! 
 I am quite sure the dish is unknown altogether. The bard 
 shews great knowledge of the Irish magistracy, even by the way 
 he mentions his justice — Justice Pat ! 
 We have then, 
 
 " There was an Irisli lad — Who loved a cloistered nun.' 
 
 A good song, and perhaps Irish. One verse is like the idiom. 
 When the hero could not get at his mistress,
 
 IRISH SONGS. 297 
 
 " He stamped and raved, nnd sighed and prayed, 
 And many times he swore, 
 The devil burn the iron bolts ! 
 The devil burn the door!" 
 
 Then follows, 
 
 " IMidrooney's my name, I'm a comical boy, 
 A light little lad at Shillelah, 
 St. Patrick wid whiskey he suckled mo, joy, 
 Among the sweet bogs of Killalah." 
 
 I must protest that I never heard the word "joy" v,o used in 
 Ireland by anybody, and yet it is a standing- expression put into 
 our mouths by every writer of Irish characters. Of the exist- 
 ence of Killalah, I am ignorant. T\"c have Killalah in Con- 
 naught, but it rhymes to tallow. But appropos of rhymes, listen 
 to those put into Mr. Mulrooney's mouth, 
 
 " But thinks I, spite of what fame and gloiy Lequeath, 
 How conceited I'd look in a fine huirel wreath, 
 Wid my hand in my mouth, to stand jnckiiig my tee/k.^' 
 
 I flatter myself that the " comical boy" would say bcqtiait/i 
 and icraitJi, rhyming to faith, and never think of screwing up 
 his mouth to squeezing these into hcqucetli and ivrccth. 
 
 Of Dermot and Sheelah, I shall only quote the chorus, 
 
 " Beam, bum, hoodie, loodle, loodle. 
 Beam, bum, boodle, loodle, loo." 
 
 Pretty writing that — and very much on a par, in point of sense 
 and interest, with Barry Cornwall's humbugs to Appellor — 
 rather more musical I own. But is it Irish ? Ncgatur, I deny 
 it poz ! Boodles ! why. Boodles is a club of good hum-drum 
 gentlemen, kept by Cuddington and Fuller, at 31, St. James 
 Street ; but not particularly Hibernian. A chorus in the same 
 taste concerning them, would run thus, 
 
 " Bow, wow, boodle, noodle, doodle. 
 Bow, wow, hoodie, noodle, pooh I" 
 
 Close fdllowing comes Paddy O'Blarney, a misnomer on the 
 face of it. Blarney is a village and a baronial castle. You 
 might as well say, Sawney M'Linlighgow, or Archy O'Goose- 
 dubs. The song is a brutal attempt at wit, and mock-Irish, 
 
 t-r. gr. 
 
 ]3*
 
 298 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " I found one who larnt grtiwn-iiii Jolmcn to write, 
 Just to finish gay P;iddy O'Blarncy." 
 
 Jolmcn! what's tliat ? Vni ior jontlc7ncn,l suppose. Tliis fel- 
 low Lad a fresli idea of the tongue. Sucli a word never was 
 heard among us. By the way, our plebeians generally say, jin- 
 tlemen, though the folks who write for us think otherwise. 
 Hear the next Lard, 
 
 " I'n) a comical fi'llow '' 
 
 Ell -pussant, I may remark that I never heard any one say he 
 was a comical fellow% that he did not prove an ass, and the rule 
 holds here, 
 
 "I'm a comical fellow, I tell you no fib. 
 And I conic fiom the bogs of Killalcy." 
 
 a various reading, I suppose, of the celebrated unknown district, 
 commemorated in another song, by the name of Killalah. 
 
 " You see I'm the thing by the cut of my jib, 
 And they chiistcn'd me Teddy O'Reilly." 
 
 Observe the name O'Reilly rhymes plainly to *' highly." Ask 
 for O'Raly anywhere, and you Avill not be understood. But 
 the Christian name is equally destructive to its Irish pretensions. 
 Teddy, a Cockney vulgarism for Edward, and that too confined ■ 
 to the raff of Cockaigne. Thady is a common Irish name, 
 Avhich, as you know, is the abbreviation of Thaddeus, the name 
 of one of the apostles, according to Saints Matthew and Mark, 
 but Teddy is unheard of. Yet it occurs in half a dozen songs 
 of this volume. 
 
 What part of the world the next song comes from, needs no 
 ghost to tell us. One rhyme will denote it. 
 
 " As the board they put out was too narrow to qiiaiier, 
 Tlie first step I tooli I was in such a toller.^' 
 
 It is, you see, marked with the indelible damned Cockney 
 blot, and, in all probability, pi'oceeds from the pen of Leigli 
 Hunt. An Irishman who sounds the R as fiercely as ever that 
 canine letter rung from human organ, could never have been 
 guilty of it. 
 
 Cushlamachree, wliich succeeds, is, 'tis said, from the pen of 
 Curran, and the first verse is, I think, a good and Avarm one.
 
 IRISH SONCJS. 299 
 
 " Dear Erin, how sweetly tliy giccn bosom nses, 
 An emerald sci in ike ring of Uie sea: 
 Each blade of thy meadows my faithful heart prizes, 
 Thou queen of iho Wc.-^t — the world's Cushlamacree." 
 
 We soon come to a strain of another mood in Sheelah's Wed- 
 ding, wliicli, for magiiiiiccnt ignorance of the country in wliich 
 the scene is laid, is just as good as can -be conceived, I extract 
 tlie whole feccond verse as a sample of various beauties. 
 
 " Well, llie time being- settled, to church they were carried, 
 \^ ith siimi' more lads aiuHasses, to see the pair married, 
 Who vowed lliat too long- from iho parson they tarried; 
 
 For who should such sweet things be scorning? 
 Then at chia-ch, arrah, 3'es, you may fancy them there ; 
 Sure the priest lied them fast, you may very well swear; 
 
 And when it was done, 
 
 Och, what laughing and fun 
 Took ])lace about eomcthing, and throwing the stocking, 
 
 While the blythe boys and giuls 
 
 Talked of ringing the bells 
 On St. Palriek's day in the morning." 
 
 The rhyme here marks this brute to be a bestial Cockney. 
 The mixture of the words "parson'' and "priest" convicts him 
 of not knowing- Irish phraseology, which restricts the latter word 
 to the Roman Catholic clergy, who are not parsons. By the 
 name, Sheelah, tl.'c lady is decidedly Catholic — and then how 
 consistently vic have the talk about the " church" and the 
 "lidbs!" Roman Catholic places of worship all through Ire- 
 land are called chapels, and they have no bells, very few having 
 even one. And the morning marringe ! there the ape, if he 
 knew any thing of Ireland, must have known that Catholic mar- 
 riages there are celebrated in the cvenuig. I have been at some 
 hundreds of them. 
 
 In the next song, and several others, we have " taef " for 
 " thief," which is enough. Tlie vulgarism inter Hibernos, is 
 " teef." In the next we have the adventures of a certain Mr. 
 Teddy, of whom I have already disposed. I may pass Mr. 
 GrimgruffenhoflP, and Bumper Squire Jones, for different reasons. 
 The latter is a capital song indeed, and written by an Irish
 
 300 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Baron of Exchequer. The breed of such judges is not exthict, 
 while we have Lord Novbury, whom God preserve.* 
 
 Mr. O'Gallogher falls in love in the next song with a lady 
 named Cicely, — what part of Ireland he found her in is not 
 mentioned. It never was my lot to meet with one of her name 
 — and the same remark I must extend to the heroine of the 
 following chaunt — the celebrated Looney Mactwolter's mistress, 
 Miss Judy O'Flcumikin, — who is evidently transmuted from 
 O'Flanncgan, to rhyme the opening line, 
 
 " Oh ! whack, Cupid's a Mannilcin." 
 
 Looney itself is a dxibious Ch-'istian name. I have known 
 plebeians of that surname, and when they rise in society, if they 
 ever do, they change it always to Loanc. 
 
 "Murphy O'Casey," — heads the next — Psha ! the name Avill 
 not pass muster. You might as avcII say BlackAvood O'Jeffrey. 
 Nor can I panegyrize in another song Father O'Rook, for an 
 Irishman would certainly call him O'Rourke. 
 
 I skip a parcel of mere vulgarity to give you 
 
 '' I'm Larry O'LasIieni, was bort) in Killiinu-y," 
 
 one of whose adventures is described in the following dialect : 
 
 " I nnmsed myself luiigliing, to see liow the hindkk 
 \VheeIs after the fore ones most furiously paid, [Qu ?] 
 Till a wheel broke its leg, spilt the coach out of the windkr, 
 ^Vhilc my head and tlie pavement at nutciacking played." 
 
 Whaler ! Poet of Cockneyland ! the compliments of the 
 season to you. I disclaim you as a countryman. Nor shall I 
 claim the bard, who, singing of the Siege of Troy, tells you that 
 
 " the cunning Ulysses, the Trojans to cross, 
 
 Clapt fort}' fine fellows on one wooden horse." 
 
 From the theme of the poem — those old down-looking Greeks 
 — and this rhyme, it is evident that it was written by the late 
 Mr. Keats. May I be shot if 7te was an Irishman ! 
 
 Molly Astore is a beautiful tune to namby-pamby NeAV-Month- 
 ly-looking words, and the parodj- on it is quite a poor thing. I 
 flatter myself I have made better. 
 
 * Lord Norbuvy, Chief-.Iuslice of the Common Pleas, in Ireland, from 1800 
 until 1827, was bom in 1745, and died in July 1831. — He was t!ie subject of 
 one of the most graphic " Sketches of the Irish Bar," by Slieil. — INI.
 
 IRISH SONGS. 301 
 
 A poet farther on, treats us to the following description of a 
 Kerry man : 
 
 " His liaii' was so red, and liis eyes were so Lriglit." 
 
 No doubt there are red-haired Kerryman, but they arc not 
 one in fifty. The complexion is dark olive, and the hair black, 
 they being in all probability descended from the Spaniards. 
 The poet was thinking of a Highlander. Now the knights of 
 Kerry wear breeches, and are in a small degree civilized. 
 
 Another Irishman from Cockneyshire, sings of 
 
 " Cormac O'Con, 
 
 Of the great Con grandsire, 
 Wiih the son of Conibal the Greek sire, 
 
 Wliose name sounded afar, 
 
 As gi'eat Ossian's papa.^' 
 
 If I met this fellow, who has our Irish names so glib at his 
 fingers' ends, at the top of the highest house of the city, I 
 should kick him down stairs. A Ludgate-Hill pawnbroker could 
 not be more impertinent, if he wrote of the fine arts. 
 
 In the same de liaut en has fashion should I kick him Avho 
 informs us that 
 
 " I were astonisli'd as much as e'er man was, 
 To see a sea-fight on an ocean of canvass" 
 
 You hear the barbarian saying canvass — I long to pull his nose. 
 I apprehend the author of the Irish Wedding (see Jon Bee) is 
 a Scot. 
 
 " First book in hand, cnmc Fatiier Quipes." 
 
 What part of the world does that name belong to 1 — 
 
 " came Father Quipes, 
 
 \\'ith the bride's dada, the Bailie, O." 
 
 Bailies we have none in Ireland, and if we had, they should be 
 all Protestants, and thereby out of the pale of Father Quipes. 
 
 A piece of politics, in another ditty, is quite diverting to us, 
 who know a thing or two. 
 
 "Thougli all taxes I paid, yet no vote I could pass " 
 
 and M'as in consequence, though 
 
 " With principles pure, patiiotic, and Jinn, 
 Attach'd to my country, a friend to reform,''^ 
 
 obliged to fly. His case was certainly hard in not having a vote, 
 when every farmer or labourer in Ireland may have one if he
 
 802 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 likes, or ratliei* if liis landlord likes. In the county of Cork 
 there are 25,000 voters, in Down about 20,000, and so on ; so 
 that his grievance about the want of suffrage is rather singular . 
 
 There is no use in bothering the ptxblic Avith any more re- 
 marks on such a subject. I hope nobody will think I have any 
 spleen against this collection of songs, which is just as good as 
 anj'- other similar one, but I M'ishod to shew that I had some 
 ground for saying, that we are not quite wrong in accusing our 
 English friends of ignorance of our concerns. Some time or 
 other, perhaps, I may in the same way get through the usual 
 stage characters, in Avhich we figure and prove them equally 
 remote from truth. 
 
 It would, perhaps, be a good thing to go over some of the 
 political speculations on Ireland in the same manner, but I never 
 liked Irish politics, and now I jiarticularly detest them. I fre- 
 quently admire the intrepidity of tlie heads which Jojin Black* 
 spins out for the edification of the Whigamores, whenever he 
 takes us in his hand. Evidently wishing tp patronize us, he 
 nevertheless treats us as mere barbarians. I remember reading- 
 one morning in the Chronicle, that, except Dublin and Cork, 
 there were no large towns in Ireland, which accounts for its 
 want of civilization, while Scotland was indebted for her superi- 
 ority over us, to her possessing such eminent cities as Edinburgh, 
 Glasgow, Paisley, Aberdeen, Dundee, Inverness, and some others 
 which I forget. Now Limerick is larger and more populous than 
 any except the first two ; "Waterford, Galway, Kilkenny, and 
 Belfast, fall little short of them ; and, taking out the first half 
 dozen of Scotch towns, you would seek in vain through Scotland 
 for towns to compare with Drogheda, Sligo, Carlow, Clonmell, 
 Deny, Youghall, and several others. This is but a small sample 
 of his accuracy. 
 
 He of the Courier knows, i?i Jiis icrilings, something more, 
 but fcrsonalJij., Mudford is quite horror-struck at the notion of 
 us.f The Roman Catholic Association, professedly friends of 
 
 * John Black, \v!io conducted the Morning Clti-onide, m London, for inaiiy 
 years. — "Si. 
 
 t Willium Mndford, Editor of tlio Coinicj; a ministerial newspaper, in Lon- 
 don, durinr;; ilie vLole peiiod of t!:e \v;ir with Napoleon, and for nearly twenty
 
 IRISH SONGS. 303 
 
 the liberty of the press, have brought an infoiinatlon against 
 him for inserting some remarks of a con-espondent on Maynooth 
 College, and availed themselves of an obscure law, to lay the 
 venue against him in Cork. The very wind of the word has 
 frightened my friend Mndford out of his seven senses. Some 
 Cockney blackguard, with that spirit of personality so disgust- 
 ingly the distinction of the Cockney school, once called him " a 
 pile of fleec}- hosiery," — but that name is every day becoming 
 less and less applicable. He looks on the Corkagians as no 
 better than Ashantees, and, no doubt, anticipates, from the jaws 
 of long John Brixon, maj'or of that beef-abounding city, the 
 fate of poor Sir Charles M'Cartliy.* Let him be comforted. 
 Cork, I can assure him, is well mimitioned Avith victual and 
 drink, and he has but a small chance of being eaten alive there, 
 particularly as he remains but a fortnight. Xor let him dread 
 the hostile countenances of a grand jury, empannelled by Jack 
 Bagnell and Ned Colburn, best of little men — sheriffs of the 
 aforesaid bailiwick. And even if that is improbable, the thing 
 comes to a petit jury, even before them — let him pluck up cour- 
 age. Men there are to be found on all sides of the banks of 
 
 Tlip sprpiu'.iiig' K'P, iliat like an island fuvrc, 
 Enclosetli Ccirke with ils divided flood, 
 
 v.ho would devour the boot from the silk tAvist that hems its tip- 
 per-leather, to the iron horse-shoe which guards its heel, sooner 
 than give a verdict against the right. Coimselled by these re- 
 flections, let him devour turbot, hot (as the old cookery books 
 have it) from the bank in the harbour — let him swallow salmon, 
 creaming in overlasthig curd from the Lee — let Kinsale feed 
 him with hake, fish of delicious flavour, imheard of in Augusta 
 Trinobantum — from Cove let him gulp down oysters capacious 
 as bis well-fleshed hand. Kerry will supply him mutton to 
 masticate, small, but lively. Cork itself will ofi'er its beef and 
 
 years later. He wrote several works, of wliicli ijis roman(!p " Tlio Five >\igl:lH 
 of St. Albiiii'" is l)cst: known. — M. 
 
 * Sir Charles M'Cartlr-, an Irish officer, commanded in Cajx' Coast in 1821-3. 
 In the latter year ho marched against the Ashantees — but his black troops ran 
 away, his white soldiers were defeated, his body was eaten liy the victors, and 
 his head (carefully piikled) was placed as an ornament on the great war drum 
 of the enemy, in Jiinmny, 18"2-1. In a subsequent battle it wiis recaptured. — M.
 
 304 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 butter, peerless througliout the land. Pork is, I own, inferior 
 to the flesh of Anglia pigs; — bnt Wicldow can send her turf- 
 dried hams, easily procurable, that will scarce vail bonnet to 
 those of Wiltshire. He may, no doubt, regret the crammed 
 poultry of London, — but a turkey in native flavour, will smoke 
 upon his board for two tenpennies. Does he long for dainties 
 more rich and rare 1 In a harbour, yawning for the West In- 
 dies, he need not desiderate turtle — ia a city within easy march 
 of sporting hills and dales, he need not be afraid of wanting 
 game or venison. As for drhik, is he fond of port 1 Vessels 
 from Oporto will justle the boat that brings him to the quay — 
 if of claret, he must be unskilled in bibulous lore, if he knows 
 not the vahie set upon the claret of Ireland. But as his stay is 
 short, I recommend whiskey -puncli. T/iat he cannot get for 
 love nor money in London. Let him there ingurgitate that 
 balmy fluid. Tliere's Walker — there's Wi.«e — there's Calaghau 
 — there's Hewitt — excellent artists all* — they will sell it to 
 him for from 6s. 6d. to 7s. 6d, agallon — and a gallon will make 
 sixty 4'our tumblers — I have often calculated it — and that is 
 three times as much as he should drink in an evening. So do- 
 ing, he will be happy, and fearless of the act of Judge Johnson. 
 But what is this I am about? digressing from a disquisition 
 on songs, pseudo-Irish, to the way in which a stranger, who 
 knows how, could live in Cork. It can't be helped — I have 
 lost the thread of my argument. So I think I had better con- 
 clude. M. OD. 
 
 * Dislillois of \vliisk(>y, in Coik. — M.
 
 CORK IS THE AIDEN FOR YOU, LOVE, AND ME. 305 
 
 Cork is tl)c Qliiicn for jiou, looe, an^ mc* 
 
 Air — " Thei/ 7naJj rail at this life." 
 
 Thet niiiy rail at the city wlicre I was first born, 
 
 But it's there they've the whiskey, and butter, and pork, 
 An' a nate h'ttle spot for to walk in each morn, 
 
 They calls it Daunt's Square, and the city is Cork I 
 The Square has two sides, why, one east, and one west ; 
 
 And convanient's tlie region of frolic and spree. 
 Where salmon, drisheens, and beef-steaks are cook'd best, 
 
 Och ! Fishamble' s the Aiden for yon, love, and inc. 
 
 II. 
 If YOU want to behold the sublime and the beauteous. 
 
 Put your, toes in your brogues, and see sweet Blarney Lane, 
 AVhere the parents and childer is comely and duteous, 
 • And " dry lodgin" both rider and beast entertain ; 
 In the cellars below dines the slashin' young fellows, 
 
 What conies with the butter from distant Tralee ; 
 While the landlady, chalking the score on the bellows, 
 
 Sings, Cork is an Aiden for you, love, and me. 
 
 III. 
 Blackpool is another sweet place of that city. 
 
 Where pigs, twigs, and wavers, they all grow together, 
 With its small little lanyards — och, more is the pity — 
 
 To trip the poor beasts to convert them to leather! 
 Farther up to the east, is a place great and fimous. 
 
 It is called Mellow Lane — antiquaries agree 
 That it holds the Shibbcen which once held King Shamus : — 7 
 
 O ! Cork is an Aiden for you, love, and me. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then go back to Daunt's Bridge, though you'll think it is quare 
 
 That you can't see the bridge — faix ! you ne'er saw the like 
 Of that bridge, nor of one-sided Buckingham Square, 
 
 Nor the narrow Broad lane, that leads up to the Dyke ! 
 Where turning his wheel sits that Saint " Holy Joe," 
 
 And numbrcllas are made of the best quality. 
 And young vai-gints sing " Colleen das croolhin a ??io"t 
 
 And Cork is an Aiden for you, love, and me. 
 
 ** Sang by Odoheity at The Noctes, May, 1828. — M. 
 
 t Colleen das croolhin a mo, — An Irish phrase, signifying " The pretty girl 
 milking her row." There is a delightful Irisll Melody hearing this name. — ]\L
 
 306 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 When yoii gets to the Dyke, there's a beautiful prospect 
 
 Of a long gravel walk between two rows of trees ; 
 On one side, with a beautiful southern aspect, 
 
 Is Blair's Castle, that trembles above in the breeze ! 
 Far off to the west lies the lakes of Killarncy, 
 
 Wliich some hills intervening prevents you to see ; 
 But you smell the svi^e'et wind from the wild groves of Blarney — 
 
 Och ! Cork is the Aiden for you, love, and me ! 
 
 VI. 
 Take the road to Glanniire, the road to Blackrock, or 
 
 The sweet Boreemannah, to charni your eyes, 
 If you doubt what is Wise, talie a dram of Tom Walker, 
 
 And if you're a Walker, toss off Tommy Wise !* 
 I give you my word that they're both lads of spiHi ; 
 
 But if a " rawchawit" with your gums don't agree, 
 Beamish, Crawford, and Lane, brew some porter of merit, 
 
 Tho' Potheen is the nectar for you, love, and me. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Oh, long life to you, Curl^, with your pepper-box steeple, 
 
 Your girls, your whiskey, your curds, and sweet whey ! 
 Your hill of Glanmire, and shops where the people 
 
 Gets decent now clothes down heyont the Coal Quay. 
 Long life to sweet Fair Lane, its pipers and jigs. 
 
 And to sweet Sunday's well, and the banks of the Lee, 
 Likewise to your coo?*/-house, where judges in wigs 
 
 Sing, Cork is an Aiden for you, love, and me! 
 
 * W'alker and Wise were rival distillers of whiskey, in Cork. Beamish & 
 Crawfiud and Lane are eminent brewers. — M.
 
 ENGLISH SONGS. 307 
 
 Q!ngli6l) Songs.* 
 
 I HAVE been tumbling- over Eitson's songst listlessly this 
 morning, for -want of something better to do, and cannot help 
 thinking, that a much better selection and arrangement might 
 be made. He assigns 304 pages to love-songs, and but 228 to 
 all others. The collection of ancient ballads, which concludes 
 the volume, is not very much in place in a book of songs ; and, 
 besides, is far inferior to what we now know such a collection 
 ought to be. ISTow, I submit, without at all disparaging that 
 " sublime and noble — that sometimes calm and delightful — but 
 more frequently violent, unfortunate, and dreadful passion" of 
 love, as E-itsoii calls it, — in does not fill such a space, in the good 
 song- writing of any country, as a proportion of fifteen to eleven, 
 against all other species. . I say of good song-Avriting, for I know 
 of namby-pamby, it fills nine parts out of ten. 
 
 And precisely of namby-pamby are composed nine j)arts out 
 of ten of Ritson's most pedantic divisions into classes — classes 
 sillily planned at first, and not clearly distinguished in execution 
 afterwards. The second song of the first class, by Miss |Aiken, 
 concludes with this verse — 
 
 " Thus to tlic rising god of diiy 
 Their early vows the Persians pay, 
 
 And bless the spreading fire : 
 Whose glowing chariot mounting soon. 
 Pours on their heads the burning noon. 
 
 They sicken and expire." 
 
 This is not song-writing — it is only a bombastic repetition of 
 a middling thought, which had been already expressed ten thou 
 
 * From Blackicood for April, 18~-5. — M. 
 
 t Joseph Ritson, an antiquarian, who exhibited more industry than taste in 
 his researches into and criticism on early English poetry, died in 1803. His 
 " Collection of English Songs,'" in 3 vols., is here referred to by Odohcrty. — M. 
 
 t Afterwards Mrs. Barbauld. She died a very short time ago. — M. OD. 
 [Anna Letitia Barbauld, authoress of H)-nins, and Early Lessons for Children, 
 was born in 1743, and died in 1825.— -M.]
 
 308 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 sand times. It is, in short, a verse out of a poor ode, in the 
 modern sense of the word. 
 In Otway's song, p. 4. 
 
 " To sigh and wish is all my case. 
 Sighs which do heat impart 
 Enough to melt the coldest ice, 
 Yet cannot warm your heart." 
 
 Is this verse worth printing? — this frigid, trivial conceit, 
 wliich has been tossed about by the verse-writers of all the na- 
 tions in the world ? 
 
 In the same page sings Viscount Molesworth, 
 
 " Alnieria's face, her shape, her hair, 
 
 AVith charms resistless wound tlie heart," 
 
 which, it is needless to say, is rhymed by "dart.'" 
 
 In short, of the eighty-four songs of the first class, with the 
 exception of "Take, O take those lips away!" — "To all ye 
 ladies now at land," — " My time, ye muses, was happily spent," 
 — which, though far too long for a song, contains many ideas and 
 lines perfectly adapted for that style of composition — and per- 
 haps half-a-dozeu others, all are of the same cast ; and, what 
 makes it more provoking, we see affixed to some of them the 
 names of Dryden, Prior, &c., as if the editor had a perverse 
 pleasure in showing us that these men could write as tritely and 
 trivially as their neighbours on some occasions. Colin and Lucy, 
 and Jemmy Dawson, which this class contains, are no more songs 
 than Chevy Chace, or the Children of the Wood. 
 
 The second class, in which " love is treated as a passion," is 
 better ; for even attempts at writing in the language of passion 
 are generally at least readable, if they are often absurd. What 
 we cannot tolerate is inanity. There is a kind of noisy gallantry 
 about 
 
 "Ask me not how calmly I 
 All the cares of life defy; 
 How I haffle human woes. 
 Woman, woman, woman knows,"- 
 
 Avhich is pleasant. Song XII. is excellent ; compare the very 
 sound of 
 
 " Over the mountains. 
 And over the waves,
 
 ENGLISH SONGS. 309 
 
 Under the fountains, 
 
 And under the graves, 
 Under floods that are deepest 
 
 Which Neptune obey. 
 Over rocks which are steepest, 
 
 Love will find out his way,"' &c. 
 
 with the trim nothingness of the very next — 
 
 " Oft on the troubled ocean's face, 
 
 Loud stormy winds arise, 
 The murmuring surges swell npace, 
 
 And clouds obscure the skies :" 
 But when the tempests' rage is o'er— 
 
 what follows 1 Why, 
 
 " Soft breezes smooth the main. 
 The billows cease to lash the shore, 
 And all is calm again ! !" 
 
 Compare, again, song XXII. 
 
 " Would YOU choose a wife for a haj)py life. 
 
 Leave the court, and the country take. 
 Where Susan and Doll, and Hanny and Moll, 
 Follow Harry and John, whilst harvest goes on, 
 
 And merrily merrily rake," &c. 
 
 with song XXIV., 
 
 " Happy the world in that blest age 
 
 Wlien beauty was not bought and sold. 
 When the fair mind was uninflamed 
 
 With the mean thirst of baneful gold." 
 
 What jejune trash ! and how absurd and abominable an at- 
 tempt it is to put into this creeping dialect Avhat we have read 
 in Greek all but divine, and in Italian almost as delicious as 
 Greek ! I say, compare such passages as these together, and if 
 you be not thoroughly sensible of the vast inferiority of the songs 
 by persons of quality, and the propriety of utterly ejecting them 
 fiom collections of songs, you will be fit to comment on them 
 in the style of Gilbert Wakefield, and to receive panegyrics ac- 
 ocrdingly from Tom Dibdin.* 
 
 * What is written above of English" Songs, will, of course, apply to the songs 
 of all nations. I shall give a specimen in French. I shall first quote a song 
 by Antoine Ferrand, [a Parisian, a Counsellor on the Court of Aids, who died 
 in 1719. — Anlh. Fran. vol. I. p. 117.] It runs thus: —
 
 310 
 
 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 The third class opens beautifully, indeecl, with "He that 
 loves a rosy cheek." Few poems in our language resemble 
 so much as the first two verses of this song (the third is pro- 
 vokingly inferior) the admirable and indefinable beauty of the 
 
 Est moins fraiclie ct moins belle, 
 Qu' cllo : 
 
 Venus meme n'a pas 
 Tant d' amours qui marclient sur scs 
 
 pas, &c. 
 
 Iiis est plus charmaiite 
 Que I'Auiore naissante; 
 La Jeunesse brillante 
 
 N'eut jamais tant d'appas. 
 Tout le monde I'adore ; 
 
 Flore 
 
 Here we have Venus, Flora, and Aurora, in full fig; and, in tlie name of tlie 
 three goddesses, is the song worth a farthing ? Now take a song which you 
 may vote low if you have a mind, but it is a good song nevertheless, and worth 
 a cart-load of the above rubbish. I shall copy it all: — 
 
 1. 
 
 Malgr6 la bataille 
 
 Qu' on donne demain, 
 Ca, faisons ripaille, 
 
 Charmante Catein : 
 Attendant la gloire, 
 
 Prenons le plaisir, 
 Sans lire au grlmoirc 
 
 Du sombre avenir. 
 
 2. 
 
 Si la Hallcbarde" 
 
 .Te jieux mcriter. 
 Pros du coi"ps du garde 
 
 Je te fais planter ; 
 Ayant la dentelle, 
 
 Le Soulier brode, 
 La blouque a I'oreille 
 
 Le clii2:non carde. 
 
 Narguant tes compngncs, 
 Meprisant leurs voeux, 
 
 .T'ai fait deux campagnes 
 Roti de tes feux. 
 
 Digni de la pomme, 
 Tu refus ma foi, 
 
 Et jamais rogome 
 Ne fut bu sans toi. 
 
 Tien, serre ma Pipe, 
 
 Garde mon briquet ; 
 Et si la Tulipe 
 
 Fait le noir trajet. 
 Que tu sois la seule 
 
 Dans le regiment, 
 Qu' ait le brule-gueule 
 
 De son cher amant. 
 
 All ! retien tes larmes, 
 
 Calme ton chagrin ; 
 Au nom, de tes charmos 
 
 Ach6ve ton vin. 
 IMais, quoi ! de nos bandes 
 
 .T' entends les Tambours ? 
 Gloire ! tu commandes, 
 
 Adieu mes amours. 
 
 The author of this song is Christopher Mangenot, brother of the Abbe Mange- 
 not of the Temple. It was written during our war with France in 1744. It 
 was generally attributed to the pen of Voltaire, but I doubt if he coiild have 
 written in this vein. I wish somebody would translate it into English. — M. OD- 
 — (Do it yourself —C. N.)
 
 ENGLISH SONGS. 311 
 
 Greek epigranas. I, however, do not remember one exactly in 
 point. Those followmg (except the jocular ones, as, " Why so 
 pale, fond lover?" — "Tom loves Mary passing well," — "jMy 
 name is honest Harry." — " My passion is as mustard strong," 
 &c.) are not jDarticularly worthy of applause. It contains, to be 
 sure, "Mary, I believed thee true," — " Still to be neat, still to 
 be drest," and some others ; but the staple commodity is, 
 
 "But passion's wild impetuous sea 
 Hurries me far from peace and thee — 
 
 'Twere vain to struggle more. 
 Thus the poor sailor slumbering lies, 
 While swelling tides around him rise. 
 
 And piisli his bark from shore: 
 In vain he spreads his helpless arms ; 
 His pitying friends, with fond alarms, 
 
 In vain deplore his state. 
 Still far and farther from the coast, 
 On the high surge his bark is tost. 
 
 And, foundering, yields to fate." 
 
 Is not this the quintessence of absurdity now-a-days 1 Fine, 
 pretty, good-for-nothing verses, I admit them to be, never in- 
 tended or fitted to be sung ; and besides, have I not read some- 
 where, 
 
 " Heu .' quoties fidom 
 Mutatosque Dcos flebit, et aspera 
 Nigris aequora ventis 
 
 Emirabitur iiisolcns. 
 Qui nunc te fmitur credulus aurea!" 
 
 I own I have no patience when I see things, Avhich have been 
 once beautifully expressed, re-said in a manner blundering and 
 diluted. 
 
 Class Fourth is devoted solely to expressions of love for the 
 fair sex* — not a hopeful subject. Love to them is too serious a 
 thing to be jested with, [See Lord Byron's Don Juan, and also 
 see Ovid, from whom Lord Byron has convei/ed the idea,] and 
 they are too proud to complain, if slighted. They would be 
 
 * In this class, Ben Jonsoii's " Drink to me only" is inserted, I tiiink, 
 wrongly, for it appears to be an address from a man, not a woman. By Ritson's 
 remark, p. Ixxix, it would appear that he did not know it was from the Greek. 
 — M. OD.
 
 312 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 wrong if they did ; it is our part to sue, it is theirs to slight or to 
 accept. They should take the advice of Shakespeare — 
 
 "Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, 
 
 Men were deceivers ever, 
 One foot at sea, and one on shore. 
 To one thing constant never. 
 Then sigli not so, 
 But let them go, 
 And be you blithe and bonny." 
 
 If the ladies will not write their feelings, I am afraid we can 
 not. At all events, this fourth class is completely yt?(^e. There 
 are some middling songs in it, but the majority are like those 
 from Mr. Mosy Mendez, 
 
 " Vain is eveiy fond endeavour. 
 
 To resist the tender dart; 
 For examples move us never ; 
 
 We must feel to know the smart." 
 
 Which is just as much poetry as, 
 
 Vain, quite vain, the toil you spend is. 
 
 When your time in verse you pass; 
 For, good Mr. Moses Mendez, 
 
 You are nothing but an ass. 
 
 The ideas in Soame Jenyn's song. No. X., are very pretty. 
 The appeal to a lover acknowledged triumphant, 
 
 " Say, would you use that veiy power 
 
 You from her fondness claim. 
 To ruin, in one fatal hour, 
 
 A life of spotless fame ? 
 Ah .' cease, my dear, to do an ill. 
 
 Because, perhaps, you may ; 
 But rather try your utmost skill 
 
 To save ine, than bctiny,'' 
 
 is elegantly thought and expressed. There is something like 
 the idea in the life of Gilbert Earle,* when the lady urges her 
 lover not to take advantage of het tenderness to betray her 
 honour. 
 
 In the Fifth Class are some very good songs. It contains, 
 among others, three most especial favourites of mine, " Sally in 
 
 * " Passnges in the Life of Gilbert Earle," sometimes incorrectly attributed 
 to Lockhart, was written by the lute Barry St. Leger, aii Irishman. — M.
 
 ENGLISJI SOXGS. 313 
 
 our Alley," by poor Harry Carey, (Goldsmltli'.s own song, by 
 the way,) " Black-eyed Susan," and Bishop Percy's " Nanny, 
 wilt thou gang with me 1" But I rnther think I am not pecu- 
 liar in this taste. It contains also a good deal of very good non- 
 sense. In general, of the 287 songs of the volume, I think we 
 might fairly, for one reason or another, dispense with at least 200. 
 Our second division is drinking. Ritsou was a water-drinker, 
 and therefore says, " he candidly owns that he Avas not sorry to 
 find every endeavour used to enlarge this part of the collection 
 with credit (and he may, probably, as it is, have been too indul- 
 gent) prove altogether fruitless ; a circumstance, perhaps, which 
 will some time or other be considered as not a little to the hon- 
 our of the English muse." This is stuff. I shall not eulogize 
 drinking, but I am not to be humbugged with the idea, that anf/ 
 production of the English muse ever soared v/ithin five hundred 
 yards of him who sings of 
 
 Hdui/ QtaTTtaio-j Octov ttotov; 
 
 or that any songs we have can beat those of Anacreon. If future 
 generations differ with this dictum of mine, they may with all my 
 heart, but I shall retain to myself the privilege of thinking such 
 generations asinine to a great degree. Ritson's selections, how- 
 ever, are tolerable. Drinking-songs may be divided pretty fairly 
 into two classes: — the meditative, which, in the Egyptian man- 
 ner, brings the skeleton into the banquet-room, and bids you 
 think of the fleetingness of life as the chief stimulus to make 
 the most of its enjoyments while it lasts. 
 
 " Heu, hell, nos mist'ios, quam totus lioimincio nil est, 
 
 Quaiii fiagilis teiiero stainine vita cadit ! 
 Sic eriimis cuiicti, postquam nos aufeiet Orcus, 
 
 Ergo vivamus, iliim licet esse bene- — " 
 
 as Trimalchio sings. The second class is the joyous, which bids 
 us use the goods the gods provide us, because we like them — 
 because they exhilarate us ; when the song bursts forth from 
 mere animal spirits, or, to talk Pindarically, Avhen — 
 
 " 0ap!Tb'\i8 Si waoa 
 
 and we ciy — 
 Vol. I.— 14 
 
 Kdftov npopdrlfii ,"
 
 ol-l THE ODOHEETY PAPERS. 
 
 Of the former kincl, "An luindred years hence," has always ap- 
 peni-ed to me particularly good: — 
 
 " Let us diink, and be inciiy, 
 
 Dance, joke, and I'ejoice, 
 Willi claret and sherry, 
 
 Tlieoibo and voice. 
 The cliangealile world 
 
 To our joy is unjust. 
 All treasures uncertain ; 
 
 Then down with your dust ! 
 In frolics dispose 
 
 Your pounds, shillings, and pence, 
 For we shall be nothing^ 
 
 An hundred ycais hence." 
 
 Of the more roaring jovial songs, I do not see any worth ex- 
 tracting in Ritson. I think your own pages, Mr. Editor, contain 
 some far superior to any which lie sports. 
 
 What stories a commentator thoroughly versant Avith this sub- 
 ject could tell in every part of this department ! I see here 
 some of the ditties of Tom D'Urfey, whose whole life, properly 
 written, Avould be a history of the joviality of England for half a 
 century. I see here some of the songs of Tom Brown, a fellow 
 of deeper thought than generally is to be found among the bards 
 of the bottle. Then we have " Ye Goodfellows all," by Baron 
 Dawson, the friend of Carolan, last of the Irish bards, and the 
 companion of Dr. King, poet of Cookery. We see the names 
 of Gay, Lord Hochester, Harry Carey, old Sheridan the purple- 
 snouted, Ben Jonson the rare, Milton, and the Duke of Whar- 
 ton. Let any one who knows the literary history of the countiy 
 just pause for a moment at the last names I have quoted, and run 
 over at a mental glance the events of their lives, and how vari- 
 ous a blending of thoughts will he not experience ! I confess, 
 that reading convivial songs is to me a melancholy amusement. 
 Every page I turn presents me with verses which I heard in 
 merry hours from voices now mute in death, or removed to dis- 
 tant lands, or estranged in affection. But — 
 
 " 'Tis in vain 
 
 To complain. 
 
 In a melancholy strain. 
 
 Of the days that arc gone, and will never come again."
 
 ENGLISH SONGS. 315 
 
 Is the story true that Wolfe either wrote or sung " How 
 stands the glass around," the night hefore the battle, 
 
 '■ Wlieu that lici'o met Lis fate on the lieights of Ahiain ?" 
 
 I heard he did — but I forget my authority. 
 
 " The Ex-ale-tation of Ale," page 63, is not properly a song, 
 but it is a pleasant extravaganza. There is one phenomenon 
 mentioned in it, which I submit to Sir Humphrey Davy or some 
 other great chemist, for I cannot resolve it. 
 
 " Nor yet the tleh'ght that comes to the siglil, 
 To see how it flowers and mantles in graiio,* 
 ^.s- green as a leek with a smile on the cheelc, 
 The true orient colour of a pot of good ale." 
 
 How was it green ? I know not, neither can I conjecture. 
 The third part of Miscellaneous Songs has our usual favourites 
 joined to others quite unworthy. Strange to say, it contains 
 neither " God save the King," nor " Rule Britannia." Could 
 this have arisen from the cankered Jacobinism of citizen Ritson ] 
 If so, it was shabby even for a Jacobin. I cannot pass over this 
 list, without thanking Tom Campbell for " Ye mariners of Eng- 
 land." I never read it without forgiving him all his Whiggery, 
 and lamenting the Hitter Bann and Reullura. 
 
 As for the fourth part — the old ballads, I say nothing, except 
 that it is poor enough, and I think uncalled for here. The last 
 ballad is by Sir W. Scott — a translation from the Norman 
 French, the original of which, the editor says, cannot now bo 
 retraced. Had it ever any existence ? It is a sjjlendid thing, 
 and I do not recollect seeing it in his works. Therefore here 
 it goes — 
 
 BALLAD 
 ON TIIK DEATH OF SIMON DE MONTFORT, 
 
 KARL OF LEICKSTER, 
 
 AT THE BATTLE OF EVERSHAM, 1226. 
 {Literally versified from the Nortnan French.) 
 
 BY WALTER SCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 " In woeful wise my song- shall rise. 
 My heart impels the strain ; 
 
 * i. c. Small particles. Spenser uses the word for gi-avel. — M. OD.
 
 316 THE ODOHEIITY PAPERS. 
 
 Tears fit the song, wln'ch tells the wrong, 
 
 Of gentle Barons slayn. 
 Fnyr peace to gaine tlicy fought in vayn ; 
 
 Then- house to ruin gave, 
 And limb and life, to butclieiyng knyfe, 
 
 Our native land to save. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 *' Now lowly lies the flower of pries,* 
 That could so mucli of weir:t 
 
 Erie Montfort's scathe, and heavy death, 
 Shall cost the world a tear. 
 
 " As I hero say, upon Tupsdayc, 
 
 The battle bold was done ; 
 Each mounted knight, there fell in fight, 
 
 For ayd of foot was none : 
 There wounds were felt, and blows were dealt, 
 
 AVith brands that burnish'd be, 
 Sir Edward stoute, his numerous route, 
 
 Have won the maisterie. 
 
 Now lowly lies, &c. 
 
 "But, though he died, on Montfort's side 
 
 The victorie reniain'd; 
 Like Becket's fayth, the Erie's in deaihe. 
 
 The martyr's palm obtain'd ; 
 That holy Saint would never graunt. 
 
 The church sliouM fall or slyde ; 
 Like him, the Erie met deadly peril, 
 
 And like him dauntless dyed. 
 
 Now lowly lies, &c. 
 
 " The bold Sir Hugh Despencer true. 
 
 The kingdom's Justice he, 
 Was dom'd to die unrighteotislye, 
 
 By passynge crueltie ; 
 And Sir Henry, the son was he 
 
 To Leister's nobilc lord, 
 With many moc, as ye shall know. 
 
 Fell by Erie Gloster's sword. 
 
 Now lowly lies, &c. 
 
 " He that dares dye, in standing by 
 The country's peace and lawe, 
 
 To him the Saint the meed shall graunt 
 Of conscience free from fluwe. 
 
 *• Price. t War.
 
 EXGLTSFI SONGS. 817 
 
 W\]0 suffers scallie, niid nices dcatli, 
 
 To sitvo tlie poor from wronsv, 
 God speed liis end, the poor ninri's friend, 
 
 For suclie we piay, and long ! 
 
 Now lowly lies, &c. 
 
 " His bosom liere, a treasure dere. 
 
 A sacUclotlie sliii t, lliey fouiide ; 
 T!ic felons tliere full ruthless were 
 
 Who stretched hym on the groundp. 
 More wrongs than ho in bulclierye, 
 
 They did the knight who fell, 
 To wield his sword, and keep his worde, 
 ■ Who know tiie way so well. 
 
 Now' lowly lies, &c. 
 
 " Piay as is meet, my hrelhern sweet, 
 
 The maiden Mary's son. 
 The hifant fair, our noble heir, 
 
 In grace to guide him on. 
 I will not name the habit's* claym, 
 
 Of that I will not sayc ; 
 But for Jesus' lov(>, that sits above. 
 
 For cluurhmen ever pray. 
 
 Now lowly lies, &c. 
 
 " Seek not to see, of chivalrye, 
 
 Or count, or baron bold; 
 Each gallant knight, and squire of miglit 
 
 They all are bought and sold ; 
 For loyaltie and veritie. 
 
 They now are done awaye — 
 The losel vile may reign by guile. 
 
 The fool by his foleye. 
 
 Now lowly lies. Sec. 
 
 " Sir Simon wight, that gallant knight. 
 
 And his companyo eche one. 
 To heaven ahove, and joye and love. 
 
 And endless life, are gone. 
 May He on rood who bought our good. 
 
 And God, their pairie relieve, 
 Who, captive ta'en, are kept in chaiiie. 
 
 And depe in dungeon grieve ! 
 
 * The clerical habit is obviously alluded to ; and it seems to be cautiously 
 and obscurely liinted, that the chtP'ch was endangered by the deleiice of De 
 Montfort.— M. OD.
 
 318 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " Now lowly lies the flower of piles, 
 
 Tlnit ciuilil so much of weir; 
 Eile Montfoil's scQlhe, and heavy death, 
 
 Shall cost the world a tear."* 
 
 On the wliole, tlie really good songs of Ritson might be gatli- 
 ered into a single volume. His pveliminaiy dissertation is pleas- 
 ant enougli, and miglit be retained with improvements. Another 
 volume of additional songs might be collected, and then it would 
 be tolerably complete. I should agree with Ritson as to the 
 propriety of rejecting all political songs, for I think they should 
 make a separate work, which is a desideratum in our literature. 
 Songs of free-masonry also I should exclude, though I do not 
 think with him (p. x.) that they would disgrace the collection, 
 some of them being pretty good, but because they are not intel- 
 ligible to the uninitiated^ The only one in favour of which I 
 should break my rule, that I recollect just now, is Burns's 
 " Adieu, a heartwarm fond adieu, dear brethren of the mystic 
 tie." 
 
 Some time or other, what I propose will be effected. Black- 
 wood should publish it. — M. OD. 
 
 * It was the ohject of the trnnslator to imiiate, as lileially as possible', the 
 style of the original, even in ils ludoness, abrupt transitioris, and ohscuiiiy- 
 Such iK-ing- the particular re(|iipst of Mr. Ritson, who supplii-il the oM French 
 of this ballad minstrelsy. — Note hy Sir Waller Scolt.
 
 LAMENT FOR LORD BYRON. 319 
 
 IDamcnt for £orb jBjiron.* 
 
 Ah The Last Rose of Summer. 
 
 Lamkn't Cor Lord Byron, 
 
 In full flow of grief, 
 As a sept, of Milesians 
 
 Would mourn o'er tlieir chief! 
 With the loud voico of weeping. 
 
 With sorrow's deep tone, 
 We shall keen o'er our poet, 
 
 *' All faded and gone." 
 
 Though in fir IMissohiDnlii 
 
 His bod)' is laid ; 
 Though the hands of the stranger 
 
 His lone grave have made ; 
 Though no foot from Old England 
 
 Its surface will tread, 
 Nor the sun of Old England 
 
 Shine over its head ; 
 
 Yet, bard of tlio CiMiJair, 
 
 High-spirited Clnlde; 
 Thou who sang'st of Lord Manfred 
 
 The destiny wild ! 
 Thou star, whoso bright radiance 
 
 Illumined our verge, 
 Our souls cross the blue seas. 
 
 To mouni o'er thy hearse. 
 
 Thy faults and thy follies, 
 
 Whatever they were, 
 Be their memory dispersed 
 
 As the winds of the air; 
 No reproaches from me 
 
 On thy course shall bo thrown, — 
 Let the man who is sinless 
 
 Uplift the first stone. 
 
 ♦ 
 In thy vigor of manhood 
 
 Small praise from my tongue 
 
 * Written immediately after Byron's death ; sang by Odoherty at The Noctks ; 
 published in BIcichvood for June, 1824. — !\I
 
 320 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Had tliy fame or thy talents, 
 Or merriment wrung ; 
 
 For tliat Church, and that State, and 
 That monarch I loved, 
 
 Which too oft thy hot censure 
 Or rash laughter moved. 
 
 But I hoped in my hosom 
 
 That moment would come. 
 When thy feelings would wander 
 
 Again to their home. 
 P\)r that soul, O lost Byi'on! 
 
 In brilllanter hours. 
 Must have turn'd to its country — 
 
 Must slill have been ours. 
 
 Now slumhcr, i)iiglit spirit! 
 
 Thy body, in peace. 
 Sleeps with heroes and sages, 
 
 And poets of Greece ; 
 AVhile thy soul in the tongue of 
 
 Even greater than they. 
 Is embalm'd till the mountaina 
 
 And seas pass away. 
 
 Oh! when I nni departed and passed away, 
 Let's have no lamentations or sounds of dismay — 
 Meet together, kind lads, o'er a threc-gallmi howl. 
 And so toast the repose of Odoherty's soul. 
 
 Down, derry down. 
 
 If my darling girl pass, gently bid her como in. 
 To join tlie libation she'll think it no sin ; 
 
 Tliough she choose a now sweetheart, and doff the black gown, 
 She'll remember me kindly when down — down — down — 
 
 Down, derry down. 
 
 * Cbanlcd by Odoherly, at Thk Noctks, and published in Blcichcood lor 
 June, 1824.— M.
 
 A STOUY WITHOUT A TAIL. 321 
 
 ^ Qtorji tDitI)out a ®ail.* 
 
 CHAP. I. HOW WE WENT '10 DINE AT JACK GIXUEU'S. 
 
 So it was finally agreed upon that we slioukl dine at Jack 
 Ginger's chambers in the Temple, seated in a lofty story in Es- 
 sex Court. There was, besides our host, Tom Meggot, Joe 
 Macgillicuddy, Humpy Harlow, Bob Bnrke, Antony Harrison, 
 and myself. As Jack Ginger had little coin and no credit, -vvo 
 contributed each our share to the dinner. He himself provided 
 room, fire,*candles, tables, chairs, tablecloth, napkins — no, not 
 napkins; on second thoughts we did not bother ourselves Avith 
 napkins — plates, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, (which he bor- 
 rowed from the wig-maker,) tumblers, lemons, sugars, water, 
 glasses, decanters — by the by, I am not sure that there Avere 
 decanters — salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard, bread, butter, (plain 
 and melted,) cheese, radishes, potatoes, and cookery. Tom Meg- 
 got Avas a cod's head and shoulders, and oysters to match — Joe 
 Macgillicuddy, a boiled leg of pork, Avith peas-pudding — Humpy 
 HarloAV, a sirloin of beef roast, Avith horseradish — Bob Burke, 
 a gallon of half-and-half, and four bottles of Avhiskey, of prime 
 quality (" Potteen," Avrote the Avhiskeyman, " I say, by Jupiter, 
 but of Avhich »i«w?/-facture He alone knoAvs") — Antony Harri- 
 son, half-a-dozen of Port, he having tick to that extent at some 
 unfortunate Avine-merchant's — and I supplied cigars a discrctio)), 
 and a bottle of rum, Avhich I borrowed from a West Indian 
 friend of mine as I passed by. So tliat, on the Avhole, Ave Avere 
 in no danger of suffering from any of the extremes of hunger 
 and thirst for (he course of that eA'ening. 
 
 We met at five o'clock — slimy — and A-ery sharp. Not a 
 man was missing Avhen the clock of the Tuner Temple struck 
 the last stroke. Jack Ginger had done every thing to admira- 
 tion. Nothing could be more splendid than his turn-out. He 
 had superintended the cooking himself of every individual dish 
 with his own eyes — or rather eye — he having but one, the 
 
 * This stovy nppetiieil in Blnckwood, for A])ril, 1834. — 1\^. 
 
 14*
 
 322 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 other Iiavina; been lost in a skinnisli Avlien lie was midslnpraan 
 onboard a pirate in the Brazilian service. " Ab !" said Jack, 
 often and often, " tbese were my honest days — Gad — did I 
 ever think Avhen I was a pirate that I was at the end to turn 
 rogue, and study the law." — All was accurate to the ntmost de- 
 gree. The table-cloth, to be sure, Avas not exactly white, but it 
 had been washed last week, and the collection of the plates was 
 miscellaneous, exhibiting several of the choicest patterns of 
 Delf. We were not of the silver-fork school of poetry, but 
 .steel is not to be despised. If the table was somewhat rickety, 
 the inequality in the logs was supplied by clapping a volume of 
 Vesey under the short one. As for the chairs — but why weary 
 about details — chairs being made to be sat upon, it is sufBcient 
 to say that they answered their purposes, and whether they had 
 backs or not — whether they were cane-bottomed, or hair bot- 
 tomed, or rush bottomed, is nothing to the present enquiry. 
 
 Jack's habits of discipline made him punctual, and dinner 
 was on the table in less than three minutes after five. Down 
 we sate, hungry as hunters, and eager for the prey. 
 
 " Is there a parson in company ?" said Jack Ginger^ from the 
 head of the table, 
 
 " No," responded I, from the foot. 
 
 " Then, thank God," said Jack, and proceeded, after this pious 
 grace, to distribute the cod's head and shoidders to the hungry 
 multitude. 
 
 CHAP. [1. HOW V.'E DI\ED AT JACK GIXOER'S. 
 
 The history of that cod's head and shoulders would occupy 
 but little space to Avrite. Its flakes, like the snow flakes On a 
 river, Avere for one moment bright, then gone for eA'cr ; it perished 
 unpitiably. " Bring hither," said Jack, Avith a firm voice, " the 
 leg of pork." It appeared, but soon to disappear again. Not 
 a man of the company but shoAved his abhorrence of the Juda- 
 ical practice of abstaining from the flesh of swine. Equally 
 clear in a few moments Avas it that Ave Avere truly British in our 
 devotion to beef. The sirloin Avas impartially destroyed on both 
 sides, upper and under. Dire Avas the clatter of the knives, but 
 deep the Silence of the guests. Jerry Gallagher, Jack's valet-
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 323 
 
 de-chanibre, footman, cook, clerk, shoeblack, aicl-cle-camp, scout, 
 confidant, dun-chaser, buni-defyer, and many other offices i>i 
 commend am, toiled like a hero. He covered himself ■with glory 
 and gravy every moment. In a short time a vociferation arose 
 for fluid, and the half-and-half — Whitcbread rjuartered upon 
 Chamyton—*- beautiful heraldry! — was inhaled with the most 
 savage satisfaction. 
 
 "The pleasure of a glass of wino with you, Bob Burko," said 
 Joe Macgillicuddy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
 
 "With pleasure, Joe," replied Bob. — " Wliat wine do you 
 choose ? You may as well say port, for there is no other ; but 
 attention to manners always becomes a gentleman." 
 
 " Port, then, if you please," cried Joe, " as the ladies of Lim- 
 erick say, when a man looks at them across the table." 
 
 " Hobnobbing wastes time," said Jack Ginger, laying down 
 the pot out of Avhich he had been drinking for the last few min- 
 utes ; " and, besides, it is not customary now in genteel society — 
 so pass the bottle about." 
 
 [I here pause in my narrative to state, on more accurate re- 
 collection, that we had not decanters ; we drank from the black 
 bottle, which Jack declared Avas according to the fashion of the 
 continent.] 
 
 So the port was passed round, and declared to be superb. 
 Antony Harrison received the unanimous applause of the com- 
 pany ; and, if he did not blush at all the fine things that Avere 
 said in his favour, it Avas because his countenance was of that 
 pecidiar hue that no addition of red could be visible upon it. A 
 blush on Antony's face would be like gilding refined gold. 
 
 Whether cheese is prohibited or not in the higher circles of 
 the West End, I cannot tell ; but I knoAv it Avas not prohibited 
 in the A-ery highest chambers of the Temple. 
 
 " It's double Gloucester," said Jack Ginger ; " prime, bought 
 at the corner — HeaA'en pay the cheesemonger, for I shan't — 
 but, as he is a gentleman, I give yoii his health." 
 
 "I don't think," said Joe Macgillicudd}', " that 1 ought to 
 demean myself to drink the health of a cheesemonger; but I'll 
 not stop the bottle." 
 
 And, to do Joe justice, he did not. Tlten we attacked the
 
 824 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 clieese, and in an incredibly short period we battered in a breach 
 of an angle of 45 degrees, in a manner that would have done 
 honour to any engineer that directed the guns at San Sebastian. 
 The cheese, which on its first entry on the table presented the 
 appearance of a plain circle, was soon made to exhibit a very 
 different shape, as may be understood by the subjoined dia- 
 gram : — 
 
 [A, original cheese ; EBD, cheese after five minutes standing 
 on the table ; EBO, angle of 45^.] 
 
 "With cheese came, and with cheese went, celery. It is unne- 
 cessary to repeat what a number of puns were made on that 
 most pun-provoking of plants. 
 
 " Clear the decks," said Jack Ginger to Jeriy Gallagher. 
 " Gentlemen, I did not think of getting pastry, or puddings, oi' 
 desserts, or ices, or jellies, or blancmange, or any think of the 
 sort, for men of sense like you." 
 
 We all unanimously expressed our indignation at being sup- 
 posed even for a moment guilty of any such weakness ; but a 
 general suspicion seemed to arise among us that a dram might 
 not be rejected with the same marked scorn. Jack Ginger ac- 
 cordingly uncorked one of Bob Burke's bottles. Whop ! went 
 the coik, and the potteen soon was seen meandering round the 
 table. 
 
 " For my part," said Antony Harrison, " I take this dram be- 
 cause I ate pork, and fear it might disagree with me." 
 
 " I take it," said Bob Burke, " chiefly by reason of the fish." 
 
 " I take it," said Joe Macgillicuddy, " because the day was 
 warm, and it is very close in these chambers." 
 
 " I take it," said Tom JMeggot, " because I have been A-ery 
 chilly all the day." 
 
 " I take it," said Humpy Harlow, " because it is such strange 
 weather tliat one does not know what tn do."
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 825 
 
 " I take it," said Jack Ginger, " because the rest of tlic com- 
 pany takes it." 
 
 " And I take it," said I winding up tlie conversation, " because 
 I like a dram." 
 
 So we all took it for one reason or another — and there was 
 an end of that. 
 
 "Be off, Jerry Gallagher," said Jack — "I give to you, your 
 heirs and assigns, all that and those which remains in the ])ot8 
 of half-and-half — item for your own dinners what is loft of the 
 solids — and when you have pared the bones clean, you may 
 give them to the poor. Charity covers a multitude of sins. 
 Brush away like a shoeblack — and levant." 
 
 " Why, thin, God bless your honour," said Jerry Gallagher, 
 "it's a small liggaey he woidd have that would dippind for his 
 daily bread for what is left behind any of ye in the way of the 
 drink — and this blessed hour there's not as much as would blind 
 the left eye of a midge in one of them pots — and may it do 
 you all good, if it a'n't the blessing of heaven to see you eating-. 
 By my sowl, he that has to pick a bone after you, won't be much 
 troubled with the mate. Howsomever" — 
 
 " No more prate," said Jack Ginger. " Here's twopence for 
 you to buy some beer — but, no," he continued, drawing his 
 empty hand from that breeches-pocket into which he had most 
 needlessly put it — "no," said he, "Jerry — get it on credit 
 wherever you can, and bid them score it to me." 
 
 " If they will" — said Jerry. 
 
 " Shut the door," said Jack Ginger, in a peremptory tone, and 
 Jerry retreated. 
 
 " That Jerry," said Jack, " is an uncommonly honest fellow, 
 only he is the damndest rogue in London. But all this is wast- 
 ing time — and time is life. Dinner is over, and the business of 
 the evening is about to begin. So, l»umpers, gentlemen, and 
 get rid of this wine as fast as we can. Mr. Vice, look to your 
 bottles." 
 
 And on this. Jack Ginger gave a bumper toast.
 
 326 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 CHAP. lit. — HOW WE CONVEIISED AT JACK GINGER'S. 
 
 This being done, every man pulled in liis chair close to tliC 
 table, and prepared for serious action. It was plain, that we 
 all, like Nelson's sailors at Trafalgar, felt called upon to do our 
 duty. The wine circulated with considerable rapidity; and 
 there was no flinching on the part of any individual of the com- 
 pany. It was quite needless for our president to remind us of 
 th.e necessity of bumpers, or the impropriety of leaving licel- 
 taps. We were all too well trained to require the admonition, 
 or to fall into the error. On the other hand, the chance of any 
 man obtaining more than his share in the round was iufmitesi- 
 mally small. The Sergeant himself, celebrated as he is, could 
 not have succeeded in obtaining a glass more than his neigh- 
 bours. Just to our friends, we were also just to ourselves ; and 
 a more rigid circle of philosophers never surrounded a board. 
 
 The wine Avas really good, and its merits did not appear the 
 less striking from the fact that we were not habitually wine-bib- 
 bers, our devotion generally being paid to fluids more potent or 
 more heavy than the juice of the grape, and it soon excited our 
 powers of conversation. Heavens ! what a flow of soul ! ]\[oro 
 good things were said in Jack Ginger's chambers that (ivening, 
 than in the Houses of Lords and Commons in a month. We 
 talked of every thing — politics, literature, the fine arts, drama, 
 high life, low life, the opera, the cockpit — every thing from the 
 heavens above to the bells in St. James's Street. There Avas 
 not an article in a morning, evening, or weekly paper for the 
 Aveck before, Avhicli we did not repeat. It was clear that our 
 knoAvledge of things in genei'al Avas draAvn in a A'ast degree from 
 these recondite sources. In politics Ave A\'ere hannonious — Ave 
 Avere Tories to a man, and defied the Radicals of all classes, 
 ranks, and conditions. We deplored tlic ruin of our country, 
 and breathed a sigh over the depression of the agricultural 
 interest. We gave it as our opinion that Don Miguel should be 
 King of Portugal — and that Don Carlos, if he had the pluck 
 of the most nameless of insects, could ascend the throne of 
 Spain. Wc pitched Louis Philippe to that place which is never 
 mentioned to ears polite, and drank the health of the Diichess
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 827 
 
 of Ecrri. Opinions tlift'ered .soniewliat about tlio Emperor of 
 Russia — some thinking- tliat lie Avas too lianl on tlie Poles — 
 others gently blaming- him for not squeezing- them much tighter. 
 Antony Harrison, who had seen the Grand Duke Constantine, 
 Avhen he was campaigning, spoke with tears in his eyes of that 
 illustrious })rince — declaring him, Avith an oath, to have been a 
 d — d good fellow. As for Leopold, Ave unanimously voted him 
 to be a scurvy hound ; and Joe Macgillicuddy Avas pleased to 
 say something- complimentary of the Prince of Orange, Avhich 
 Avould have, no doubt, much gratified his Royal Highness, if it 
 had been communicated to him, but I fear it never reached his 
 ears. 
 
 Turning to domestic policy — we gave it to the Yriiigsin high 
 style. If Lord Grey had been Avithin hearing, he must have 
 instantly resigned — he ne\-er could have resisted the thunders 
 of our eloquence. All the hundred and one Greys Avould have 
 been forgotten — he must haA'e sunk before us. Had Brougham 
 been there, he Avould have been converted to Toryism long be- 
 fore he could have got to the state of tipsyfication in Avhich lie 
 sometimes addresses the House of Lords. There' Avas not a 
 topic left undiscussed. ^Vith one hand Ave arranged Ireland — 
 Avith another put the Colonies in order. Catholic Emancipation 
 was severely condemned, and Bob Burke ga\'e the glorious, 
 pious, and immortal memory. The A'ote of 6620,000,000 to th(; 
 greasy blacks Avas much reprobated, and the opening of the 
 China trade declared a humbug. We spoke, in fact, articles 
 that Avould have made the fortunes of half a hundred magazines, 
 if the editors of those Avorks Avould haA'e had the perspicacity 
 to insert them — and this Ave did Avith such ease to ourselves, 
 that Ave never for a moment stopped the circulation of the bottle, 
 Avhich kept running on its round rejoicing, Avhile Ave settled the 
 aftairs of the nation. 
 
 Then Antony Harrison told us all his campaigns in the Penin- 
 sula, and that capital story hoAV he bilked the taA'crnkeeper in 
 Portsmouth. Jack Ginger entertained us Avith an account of 
 his transactions in the Brazils ; and as Jack's imagination far 
 outruns his attention to matters of fact, Ave had them consider- 
 ably improved. Bob Burke gave us all the particulars of his
 
 328 THE ODOHEUTY PAPERS. 
 
 duel with Ensign Brady of tlie 4Stli, and how he hit him on the 
 waistcoat pocket, which, fortunately for the Ensign, contained a 
 five shilling piece, (hoAV he got it Avas never accounted for,) Avhich 
 saved him from grim deatli. From Joe Macgillicuddy we heard 
 multifarious iiavrations of steeple chases in Tipperary, and of 
 his hunting with the Blazers in Galway. Tom Meggot ex- 
 patiated on his college adventures in Edinburgh, which he main- 
 tained to be a far superior city to London, and repeated sundry 
 witty sayings of the advocates in the Parliament Honse, who 
 seem to be gentlemen of great facetiousness. As for me, I 
 emptied ont all Joe Miller on the company ; and if old Joe 
 could have burst his cerements in the neighbouring churchyard 
 of St. Clement Danes, he would have been infinitely delighted 
 wdth the reception -which the contents of his agreeable miscel- 
 lany met with. To tell the truth, my jokes were not more 
 knoAvn to my companions than their stories Avere to me. Har- 
 rison's campaigns, Ginger's cruises, Burke's duel, Macgillicuddy's 
 steeple-chases, and Tom Meggot's roAvs in the High Street, had 
 been told over and over — so often indeed, that the several re- 
 lators begin to believe that there is some foundation in fact for 
 the AA'onders AAdiich they are continually repeating. 
 
 " I perceive this is the last bottle of port," said Jack Ginger ; 
 " so I suppose that there cannot be any harm in drinking bad 
 luck to Antony Harrison's AA'ine-merchant, aa'Iio did not make it 
 the dozen." 
 
 " Yes," said Harrison, " the skinflint tluef would not stand 
 more than the half, for Avhich he merits the most infinite certainty 
 of non-payment." 
 
 (You may depend upon it that Harrison Avas as good as his 
 word, and treated the man of bottles according to his deserts.) 
 
 The port Avas gathered to its fathers, and potteen reigned in 
 its stead. A most interesting discussion took place as to Avhat 
 was to be done Avith it. No doubt, indeed, existed as to its final 
 destination ; but various opinions were broached as to the man- 
 ner in Avhich it Avas to make its Avay to its appointed end. Some 
 Avished that every man should make for himself; but tliat Jack 
 Ginger strenuously opposed, because he said it would render the 
 drinking unsteady. The company divided into tAvo jiarties o«
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 329 
 
 the great questions of bowl or jng. The Irishmen maintained 
 the cause of the latter. Tom Meggot, Avho had been reared in 
 GlasgOAv, and Jack Ginger, ■who did not forgot his sailor pro- 
 pensities, were in favour of the former. Much erudition was 
 displayed on both sides, and I believe I may safely say, that 
 every topic that eitlier learning or experience could suggest, 
 was exhausted. At length we called for a division, when there 
 appeared — 
 
 For the jvg. For the howl. 
 
 Bob Burke Jack Ginger 
 
 Joe IMacgillicudtly Humpy Harlow 
 
 Antony Harrison Tom Meggot. 
 
 Myself. 
 Majority ], in favour of the jug. I "was principally mover! to 
 A'ote as I did, because I deferred to the Irislimen, as persons 
 Avho Avere best acquainted with the nature of potteen ; and 
 Antony Harrison was on the same side from former recollections 
 of his quarterings in Ireland. Humpy Harlow said, that he 
 made it a point always to side with the man of the house. 
 
 "It is settled," said Jack Ginger, "and, as we said of Parlia- 
 mentary Reform, though we opposed it, it is now law, and must 
 be obeyed. I'll clear away these marines, and do you, Bob 
 Burke, make tlie punch. I think you will find the lemons good 
 — the sugar superb — and the water of the Temple has been 
 famous for centuries." 
 
 "And I'll back the potteen against any that ever came from 
 the Island of Saints," said Bob, proceeding to his duty, which 
 all who have the honour of his acquaintance will admit him to 
 be well qualified to perform. He made it in a couple of big 
 blue water-jugs, observing that making punch in small jugs was 
 nearly as great a bother as ladling from a bowl — and as he 
 tossed the steamy fluid from jug to jug to mix it kindly, he sang 
 the pathetic ballad of Hugger-mofane. 
 
 " I wish I liiiil a red licning's tail," vfcc. 
 
 It was an agreeable picture of continued iise and ornament, and 
 reminded us strongly of th.e Abyssinian maid of the Platonic 
 poetry of Coleridge.
 
 330 THE ODOIIERTY PAPERS. 
 
 (hap. iv. — now iiumpy harlow broke silexce at jack 
 ginger's. 
 
 The puncli being made, and the jug revolving, tlie conversa- 
 tion continued as before. But it may have been observed that 
 I have not taken any notice of the share which one of tlie 
 party. Humpy Harlow, took in it. The ffxct is, that he liad 
 been silent for almost all the evening, being outblazed and over- 
 borne by the brilliancy of the conversation of his companions. 
 We were all acknowledged wits in our respective lines, whereas 
 he had not been endowed Avitli the same talents. How he came 
 among us I forget ; nor did any of us know vrell who or what he 
 was. Some maintained he was a drysalter in the City ; others 
 surmised that he might be a pawnbroker at the West End. 
 Certain it is that he had some money, which perhaps might 
 have recommended him to us, f*r there was not a man in the 
 company who had not occasionally borrowed from him a sum, 
 too trifling, in general, to permit any of us to think of repaying 
 il. He was a broken-backed little fellow, as vain of Ins person 
 as a peacock, and accordingly we always called him Humpy 
 Harlow, with the spirit of gentlemanlike candour which charac- 
 terized all our conversation. With a kind feeling towards him, 
 we in general permitted him to pay our bills for us whenever 
 Ave dined together at tavern or chop-house, merely to gratifj- 
 tlic little fellow's A'auity, Avhich I have already h.inted to be ex- 
 cessive. 
 
 He had this evening made many inefiectual attempts to shine, 
 but was at last obliged to content himself with opening his 
 mouth for the admission, not for the uttercince, of good things. 
 He Avas eA'idently indiappy, and a rightly-constituted mind 
 could not avoid pitj-ing his condition. As jug, hoAvever, succeed- 
 ed jug, he began to recover his self-possession ; and it Avas clear, 
 about eleven o'clock, Avhen the fourth bottle of potteen Avas con- 
 verting into punch, that he had a desire to speak. We had 
 been for some time busilj- employed in smoking cigars, Avhen, 
 all on a sudden, a shrill and sharp A-oice Avas heard from tlie 
 midst of a cloud, exclaiming, in a high treble key, — 
 
 " Hu7nj>hrics told me" —
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 331 
 
 "We all piiflecl our llavannalis Avitli the utmost silence, as if 
 we were so many Sachems at a palaver, listening to the narra- 
 tion which issued from tlie misty tabernacle in which Humpy 
 Harlow was envelope!. He unfolded a tale of wonderous 
 length, which Ave never interrupted. No sound was heard save ^ 
 that of the voice of Harlow, narrating the story which had to 
 liim been confided by the unknown Humphries, or the gentle 
 gliding of the jug, an occasional tingle of a glass, and the soft 
 susp'ration of the cigar. On moved the story in its length, 
 breadth, and thickness, for Harlow gave it to us in its full di- 
 mensions. He abated it not a jot. The firmness which Ave dis- 
 played was miequalled since the battle of AVaterloo. We sat 
 with determined countenances, exhaling smoke and inhaling 
 punch, Avhile the voice still rolled onward. ±\.t last Harlow came 
 to an end ; and a Babel of conversation burst from lips in which 
 it had been so long imprisoned. Harlow looked proud of his 
 feat, and obtained the thanks of the company, grateful that he 
 had come to a conclusion. Hoav we finished the potteen — con- 
 verted my bottle of rum into a bowl, (for here Jack Ginger pre- 
 vailed) — how Jerry Gallagher, by superhuman exertions, suc- 
 ceeded in raising a couple of hundred of oysters for supper — 
 how the company separated each to get to his domicile as he 
 could — how I found, in the morning, my personal liberty out- 
 raged by the hands of that unconstitutional band of gens- 
 d'-armes created for the direct purposes of tyranny, and held up 
 to the indignation of all England by the weekly eloquence of 
 the Despatch — how I was introduced to the attention of a ma- 
 gistrate, and recorded in the diurnal page of the nev/spaper — 
 all this must be left to otlier historians to narrate. 
 
 CHAP. V. WHAT STOnV IT WAS THAT HL':,IPV HARLOW TOLD 
 
 AT JACK GINGER'S, 
 
 At three o'clock on the day after the dinner, Antony Harri- 
 son and I found ovuself eating bread and cheese — part of i/te 
 cheese — at Jack Ginger's. We recapitulated the events of the 
 preceding evening, and expressed ourselves highly gratified with 
 the entertainment. Most of the good tlmigs we had said were 
 revived, served up again, and laughed at once more. AVe
 
 "32 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 wore perfectly satisfied witli the parts wliicli we had respectively 
 played, and talked ourselves into excessive good humour. All 
 on a sudden, Jack Ginger's countenance clouded. He was evi- 
 dently puzzled ; and sat for a moment in thoughtful silence. 
 ^We asked him, with Oriental siinplicity of sense, "Why art 
 thou troubled ?" and till a moment he answered — 
 
 " What was the story which Humpy Harlow told us about 
 eleven o'clock last night, just as Bob Burke was teeming the 
 last jug r 
 
 " It began," said I, " with ' Humj>hries told mc' " 
 
 " It did," said Antony Harrison, cutting a deep incision into 
 the cheese. 
 
 "I know it did," said Jack Ginger ; "but Avhat was it that 
 Humphries had told him ? I cannot recollect it if I was to be 
 made Lord Chancellor." 
 
 Antony Harrison and I mused in silence, and racked our 
 brains, but to no purpose. On the tablet of our memories no 
 trace had been engraved, and the tale of Humphries, as re- 
 ported by Harlow, was as if it were not, so far as Ave were con- 
 cerned. 
 
 While we were in this perplexity, Joe Macgillicuddy and Bob 
 Burke entered the room. 
 
 " We have been just taking a hair of the same dog," said 
 Joe. " It was a pleasant party we had last night. Do you 
 know what Bob and I have been talking of for the last half 
 hour V 
 
 We professed our inability to conjecture. 
 
 " Why, then," continued Joe, " it was about the story that 
 Harlow told last night." 
 
 " The story begins with ' IIumj)7tries told me,'' " said Bob. 
 
 "And," proceeded Joe, "for our lives we cannot recollect 
 what it was." 
 
 "Wonderful !" Ave all exclaimed. "How inscrutable are the 
 movements of the human mind !" 
 
 And we proceeded to reflect on the frailty of our memories, 
 moralizing in a strain that would have done honour to Dr. John- 
 son. 
 
 " Perhaps," said T, " Tom j\[oggot may recnllect it." ^
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. 333 
 
 Idle liojic ! dispersed to the winds almost as soon as it was 
 formed. For the words had scarcely passed " the bulwark of 
 my teeth,"' when Tom appeared, looking excessively bloodshot 
 in the eye. On enquiry, it turned out that he, like the rest of 
 us, remembered only the cabalistic words which introduced the 
 tale, but of the tale itself, nothing. 
 
 Tom had been educated in Edinburgh, and was strongly at- 
 tached to what \\Q cixWs 7ncta2^hecsicks ; and, accordingly, after 
 nibbing his forehead, he exclaimed — 
 
 " This is a psychological cui-iosity, Avhich deserves to be de- 
 veloped. I happen to have half a sovereign about me," (an as- 
 sertion, which, I may remark, in passing, excited considerable 
 surprise in his audience,) " and I'll ask Harlow to dine with me 
 at the Rainbow. I'll get the story out of the humpy rascal — 
 and no mistake. 
 
 We acquiesced in the propriety of this proceeding ; and An- 
 tony Harrison, observing that he happened by chance to be dis- 
 engaged, hooked himself on Tom, who seemed to have a sort of 
 national antipathy to such a ceremony, with a talent and alaciity 
 that proved him to be a veteran warrior, or what, in common 
 parlance, is called an old soldier. 
 
 Tom succeeded in getting Harlow to dinner, and Harrison 
 succeeded in making him pay the bill, to the great relief of 
 ]\Ieggot's half-sovereign, and they parted at an early hour in the 
 morning. The two Irishmen and myself were at Ginger's 
 shortly after breakfast ; we had been part occupied in tossing 
 halfpence to decide which of us was to send out for ale, when 
 — Harrison and Meggot appeared. There was conscious con- 
 fusion written in their countenances. " Did Humpy Harlow 
 tell you iliat story ?" we all exclaimed at once. 
 
 " It cannot be denied that he did," said Meggot. " Precisely 
 as the clock struck eleven, he commenced with ' Ilmnphries told 
 me' "— 
 
 " Well — and what then ?" 
 
 " Why, there it is," said Antony Harrison, " may I be drum- 
 med out if I can recollect another word." 
 
 " Nor I," said Meggot. 
 
 The strangeness of this singular adventure made a deep im-
 
 334 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 pvession on us all. "\Ve were sunk in silence for some minutes, 
 during which Jerry Gallagher made his appearance with the 
 ale, which I omitted to mention had been lost by Joe Macgilli- 
 cuddy. We sipped that British beverage, much abstracted in 
 deep thought. The thing appeared to us perfectly inscrutable. 
 At last I said "This never will do — we cannot exist much 
 longer in this atmosphere of doubt and uncertainty. We must 
 have it out of Harlow to-night, or there is an end of all the 
 grounds and degrees of behef, opinion, and assent. I have 
 credit," said I, "at the widow's, in St. Martin's Lane. Suppose 
 we all meet there to-night, and get HarloAV there if we can 1" 
 
 " That I can do," said Antony Harrison, " for I quartered my- 
 self to dine with him to-day, as I saw him home, poor little fel- 
 low, last night. I promise that he figures at the widoAv's to- 
 night at nine o'clock." 
 
 So Ave separated. At nine every man of the party Avas in St. 
 Martin's Lane, seated in the little back parlour ; and Harrison 
 was as good as his word, for he brought Harlow Avith him. He 
 ordered a sumptuous supper of mutton kidneys, interspersed 
 Avith sauriages, and set to. At eleven o'clock precisely, the eye 
 of HarloAv brightened, and putting his pipe doAvn, he commenced 
 Avith a shrill voice — 
 
 " HumpJiries told me" 
 
 "Aye," said Ave all, Avith one accord, "here it is — now Ave 
 shall have it — take care of it this time." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Humpy Harlow, performing that 
 feat, Avhich by the illustrious Mr. John Eeeve is called " flaring 
 up." 
 
 "Nothing," Ave replied, "nothing, but we are anxious to hear 
 that story." 
 
 " I understand you," said our brokenbacked friend. " I noAV 
 recollect that I did tell it once or so before in your company, 
 but I shall not be a butt any longer for you or any body else." 
 
 " Don't be in a passion. Humpy," said Jack Ginger. 
 
 "Sir," replied Harlow, "I hate nicknames — it is a mark of 
 a low mind to use them — and as I see I am brought here only 
 to be insulted, I shall not trouble you any longer with my com- 
 pany."
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL. oot) 
 
 Saying this, the Httle man seized his liat and iimbrona, and 
 strode out of the room. 
 
 " His back is up," said Joe Macgilhcuddy, " and there's no 
 use of trying to get it down. I am sorry he is gone, because I 
 should have made him pay for another round." 
 
 But he is gone, not to return again — and the story remains 
 unknown. Yes, as undiscoverable as the hieroglyjihical wri- 
 tings of the ancient Egyptians. It exists, to be sure, in the breast 
 of Harlow ; but there it is buried, never to emerge into the light 
 of day. It is lost to the world — and means of recovering it, 
 there, in my opinion, exist none. The world must go on with- 
 out it, and states and empires must continue to flourish and to 
 fade without the knowledge of Avhat it was that Humphries told 
 Harlow. Such is the inevitable course of events. 
 
 For my part, I shall be satisfied with Avhat I have done in 
 drawing up this accurate and authentic narrative, if I can seri- 
 ously impress on the minds of my readers the perishable nature 
 of mundane affairs — if I can make them reflect that memory 
 itself, the noblest, perhaps the characteristic, quality of the hu- 
 man mind, will decay, even while other faculties exist — and 
 that in the w^ords of a celebrated Lord of Trade and Planta- 
 tions, of the name of John Locke, " we may be like the tombs 
 to which we are hastening, where, though the brass and marble 
 remain, yet the imagery is defaced, and the inscription is blot- 
 ted out for ever."
 
 836 THE ODOHERTY PArERS. 
 
 jSob jBurke's Duel toitl) €nsign Srobji of llje iTortj)- 
 
 CHAP. I. — HOW BOB WAS IN LOVE WITH MISS THEODOSIA 
 MACNAMARA. 
 
 " When the 48th were quartered in Mallo^\^+ I was there on 
 a visit to one of the Purcells, who abound in that part of the 
 world, and, being some sixteen or seventeen years younger than 
 I am now, thought I might as well fall in love with Miss Theo- 
 dora Macnamara. She was a fine grown girl, full of flesh and 
 blood, rose five foot nine at least when shod, had many excel- 
 lent points, and stepped out slappingly upon her pasterns. She 
 was somewhat of a roarer, it must be admitted, for you could 
 hear her from one end of the WalkJ to the other ; and I am 
 told, that as she has grown somewhat aged, she shows symptoms 
 of vice, but I knew nothing of the latter, and did not mind the 
 former, because I never had a fancy for your nimlnl-pimini 
 young ladies, with their mouths squeezed into the shape and di- 
 mensions of a needle's eye. I always suspect such damsels as 
 having a very portentous design against mankind in general. 
 
 " She was at Mallow for the sake of the Spa, it being imder- 
 stood that she was consumptive — though I'll answer for it, her 
 lungs Avere not touched ; and I never saw any signs of consump- 
 tion about her, except at meal times, when her consumption was 
 undoubtedly great. However, her mother, a very nice middle- 
 aged woman — she was of the O'Hegans of the West, and a per- 
 fect lady in her manners, with a very remarkable red nose, 
 Avhich she attributed to a cold, which had settled in that part, 
 and which cold she was always endeavoring to cure with various 
 balsamic preparations taken inwardly, — maintained that her 
 poor chicken, as she called her, was very delicate, and required 
 
 * This novelette wns publislied in Blackwood for Mny, 1834. — ]M. 
 
 t Mallow is a market-town in the county of Cork, sending one member to 
 Parliament. The population is about 7,000. It formerly was much visited for 
 its mineral spa, believed to be efficacious in consumption. — M. • 
 
 X The Spa- Walk is the principal promenade in Mallow. — M.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 337 
 
 the aiv and water of Mallow to cure lior. Theodosia,* (she was 
 so named after some of the Lhnerick family,) or, as we generally 
 called her, Dosy, was rather of a sanguine complexion, with hau' 
 that might be styled auburn, but which usually received another 
 name. Her nose was turned up, as they say Avas that of Cleo- 
 patra ; and her mouth, which was never idle, being always em- 
 ployed in eating, drinking, shouting, or laughing, was of consid- 
 erable dimensions. Her eyes were piercers, with a slight ten- 
 dency to a cast ; and her complexion was equal to a footman's 
 plush breeches, or the first tinge of the bloom of morning burst- 
 ing through a summer cloud, or what else verse making men are 
 fond of saying. I remember a young man who Avas in love Avith 
 her Avriting a song about her, in Avhich there Avas one or othci: 
 of the similes above mentioned, I forget Avhich. The A'crses 
 Avere said to be A-ery cle\^er, as no doubt they Avere ; but I do 
 not recollect them, never being able to remember poetry. Dosy 's 
 mother used to say that it Avas a hectic flush — if so, it Avas a 
 very pennanent fxush, for it never left her cheeks for a moment, 
 and, had it not belonged to a young lady in a galloping con- 
 sumption, would have done honour to a dairy-maid. 
 
 " Pardon these details, gentlemen," said Bob Burke, sighing, 
 " but one alAva3's thinks of the first loves. Tom Moore says, 
 that ' there's nothing half so SAveet in life as young love's dram ;' 
 and talking of that, if thei'e's anything left in the brandy battle, 
 hand it over to me. Here's to the days gone by, they Avill never 
 come again. Dear Dosy, you and I had some fun together. I 
 see her noAV Avith her red hair escaping from under her hat, in a 
 pea-green habit, a stiff cutting whip in her hand, licking it into 
 Tom the Devil, a black horse, that Avould have carried a six- 
 teen stoner OA^er a six-foot Avail, folloAving Will Wrixon's hounds! 
 at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, and singing out, ' Go it, my 
 trumps.' These are the recollections that bring tears in a man's 
 eyes." 
 
 * Lady Theodosiu Perry, daughtef of the late Earl of Limericlc, was first 
 wife of Mr. Spring Rice, now Lord Moiiteagle. — M. 
 
 t Mr. Wiixon, an eminent sporting cliaracter residing near Mallow, was im- 
 cle of Sir W. W. Becher, who married Miss O'Neill, the celebrated Irish 
 actress.-^ M. 
 
 Vol. 1.-1.5
 
 338 THE ODOIIERTY PAPERS. 
 
 There were none visible in Bob's, but as he here finished his 
 dram, it is perhaps a convenient opportunity for concluding a 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAP. II. — now ENSIGN BRADY WENT TO DRINK TEA WITH 
 MISS THEODOSIA MACNAMARA. 
 
 " The day of that hunt was the very day that led to my duel 
 with Brady. He was a long, straddling, waddle-mouthed chap, 
 who had no more notion of riding a hunt than a rhinoceros. He 
 was mounted on a showy-enough-looking mare, which had been 
 nerved by Ivodolphus Bootiman, the horse doctor,* and though 
 ' a good 'uu to look at, was a rum 'un to go ;' and before she 
 was nerved, all the Avork had been taken out of her by long 
 Lanty Philpot, who sold her to Brady after dinner for fifty 
 pounds, she being not worth twenty in her best day, and Brady 
 giving his, bill at three months for the fifty. My friend the en- 
 sign was no judge of a horse, and the event showed that my 
 cousin Lanty was no judge of a bill — not a cross of the fifty 
 having been paid from that day to this, and it is out of the qitcs- 
 tion now, it being long past the statute of limitations, to say noth- 
 ing of Brady having since twice taken the benefit of the Act. 
 So both parties jockeyed one another, having that pleasure, 
 Avhich must do them instead of profit. 
 
 " She was a bay chestnut, and nothing would do Brady but 
 he must run her at a little gap which Miss Dosy Avas going to 
 clear, in order to show his gallantry and agility ; and certainly 
 I must do to him the credit to say that he did get his mare o/i 
 the gap, which Avas no small feat, but there she broke down, 
 and off went Brady, neck and crop, into as fine a pool of stag- 
 nant green mud as you Avould ever Avish to see. He Avas ducked 
 regularly in it, and he came out, if not in the jacket, yet in the 
 colours, of the Rifle Brigade,! looking rueful enough at his mis- 
 fortune, as you may suppose. But he had not much time to 
 
 * Boolimnn was a veterinary siirg'eon, wlio liopt livery stables in George's 
 Street, Cork, and was as knowing- in liorsellesli as if he hailed from York- 
 ehire. — M. 
 
 t The Kiik Bii"ade, iu the Hiiiis'i Arniv, is ultircd iu dark croeii. — W.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 339 
 
 think of the figure he cut, for before he couhl well get up, ■who 
 should come right slap over him but Miss Dosy hers'elf upon 
 Tom the Devil, having cleared the gap and a yard beyond the 
 pool in fine style. Brady ducked, and escaped the horse, a little 
 fresh daubing being of less consequence than the knocking out 
 of his brains, if he had any ; but he did not escape a smart rap 
 from a stone Avhich one of Tom's heels flung back Avitli such un- 
 lucky accuracy, as to hit Brady right in the mouth, knocking 
 out one of his eye teeth, (which, I do not recollect.) Brady 
 clapped his hand to his mouth, and bawled, as any man might 
 do in such a case, so loud, that Miss Dosy checked Tom for a 
 minute, to turn round, and there she saw him making the most 
 horrid faces in the world, his mouth streaming blood, and him- 
 self painted green from head to foot, with as pretty a coat of 
 shining slime as was to be found in the province of Munster. 
 ' That's the gentleman you just leapt over. Miss Dosy,' said I, 
 for I had joined her, ' and he seems to be in some confusion.' — ■ 
 ' I am sorry,' said she, ' Bob, that I should have in any way offend- 
 ed him or any other gentleman, by leaping over him, but I can't 
 ■wait now. Take him my compliments, and tell him I should be 
 happy to see him at tea at six o'clock this evening, in a differ- 
 ent suit.' Off she went, and I rode back Avith her message, (by 
 Avhich means I was thrown out,) and would you believe it, he 
 
 had the ill manners to say • the h ;' but I shall not repeat 
 
 what he said. It was impolite to the last degree, not to say pro- 
 fane, but perhaps he may be somewhat excused under his pecu- 
 liar circumstances. There is no knowing Avhat even Job him- 
 self might have said, immediately after having been thrown off 
 his horse into a green pool, with his eye-tooth knocked out, his 
 mouth full of mud and blood, on being asked to a tea-party. 
 
 " He — Brady, not Job — went, nevertheless — for, on our re- 
 turn to Miss Dosy's lodgings, we found a triangular note, beau- 
 tifully perfumed, expressing his gratitude for her kind invitation, 
 and telling her not to think of the slight accident which had oc- 
 curred. How it happened, he added, he could not conceive, his 
 mare never having broken down with him before — which was 
 true enough, as that was the first day he ever mounted her — 
 and she having been bought by himself at a sale of the Earl of
 
 340 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Darlington's horses last year, for two hunclred guineas.* She 
 was a great favouritie, he went on to say, with the Earl, who 
 often rode her, and ran at Doncaster by the name of Miss Rus- 
 sell. All this latter part of the note was not quite so true, but 
 then, it must be admitted, that Avhen we talk about horses, wo 
 are not tied down to be exact to a letter. If we were, God help 
 Tattersal's ! 
 
 " To tea, accordingly, the ensign came at six, wiped clean, 
 and in a different set-out altogether from Avhat he appeared in 
 on emerging from the ditch. He was, to make nse of a phrase 
 introduced from the ancient Latin into the modern Greek, togged 
 up in the most approved style of his Majesty's forty-eighth foot. 
 Briglit was the scarlet of his coat — deep the blue of his facings." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Antony Harrison, hei'e interrupting 
 the speaker ; " the forty-eighth are not royals, and you ought 
 to know that no regiment but thosi^ Avhich are royal sport blue 
 facings. I remember, once upon a time, in a coffecshop, detect- 
 ing a very smart fellow, who Avrote some clever things in a Mag- 
 azine published in Edinburgh by one Blackwood, under the char- 
 acter of a military man, not to be any thing of the- kind, by his 
 talking about ensigns in the fusileers — all the world knowing 
 that in the fusileers there are no ensigns, but in their place sec- 
 ond lieutenants. Let me set you right there, Bob ; the facings 
 your friend Brady exhibited to the Avandering gaze of the Mal- 
 low tea-table must have been buff — pale buff." 
 
 " Buff, black, blue, brown, yellow. Pompadour, brick-dust, no 
 matter Avhat they Avere," continued Burke, in no Avise pleased by 
 the interruption, " they Avere as bright as they could be made, 
 and so Avas all the lace, and other traps Avhich I shall not specify 
 more minutely, as I am in presence of so sharp a critic. He 
 Avas, in fact, in full dress — as you knoAV is done in country quar- 
 ters — and being not a bad plan and elevation of a man, looked 
 Avell enough. Miss Dosy, I perceived, had not been perfectly . 
 ignorant of the rank and condition of the gentleman o\'er whom 
 she had leaped, for she Avas dressed in her purple satin body 
 and Avhite skirt, Avhich she al\A'ays put on Avhen she A\ashed to 
 
 * The Eiiil of Diiiliiiglon, niiicli cplehrnted on the Turf, some tbiity years 
 afiu, was crcuU'tl Duke of Clevolaiicl in 18J3. — M.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 341 
 
 be irresistible, and ber bair M'as suffered to flow in long ringlets 
 down ber fair neck — and, by Jupiter, it Avas fair as a swan's, 
 and as majestic too — and no mistake. Yes! Dosy Macnamara 
 looked divine tbat evening. 
 
 " Never mind ! Tea Avas brougbt in by Mary Keefe, and it 
 was just as all otber teas bave been and will be. Do not, bow- 
 ever, confound it witli tbe wafer-sliced and bot-watered abomi- 
 nations wbicb are inflicted, perbaps justly, on tbe wretcbed in- 
 dividuals wbo are gviilty of baunting soirees and conversaziones 
 in tills good and bad city of London. Tbe tea was congon or 
 soucbong, or some otber of tbese Cbinese affairs, for any tbing 
 I know to tbe contrary; for, baving dined at tbe bouse, I was 
 mixing my fiftb tumbler Avben tea was brougbt in, and Mrs. 
 Macnamara begged me not to disturb myself; and sbe being a 
 lady for Avbom I bad a great respect, I complied witb ber de- 
 sire ; but tbere was a potato-cake, an incb tbick and two feet in 
 diameter, wbicb Mrs. Macnamara informed me in a ■\vbisper was 
 made by Dosy after tbe bunt. 
 
 " ' Poor cbicken,' sbe said, ' if sbe bad tbe strengtb, sbe bas 
 tbe willuigness ; but sbe is so delicate. If you saw ber bandling 
 the potatoes today.' 
 
 " ' Madam,' said I, looking tender, and putting my band on 
 my beart, ' I wisb I Avas a potato !' 
 
 CHAP. III.— -HOW ENSIGN BRADY ASTONISHED THE NATIVES AT 
 MISS THEODOSIA MACNAMARA'S. 
 
 " I THOUGHT tbis was an uncommonly patbetic wisb, after tbe 
 manner of tbe Persian poet liatiz, but it Avas scarcely out of my 
 moutb, Avben Ensign Brady, taking a cup of tea from Miss 
 Dosy's band, lookhig upon me Avitb an air of infinite condescen- 
 sion, declared tbat I must be tbe bappiest of men, as my Avisb 
 Avas granted before it Avas made. I Avas preparing to ansAver, 
 but Miss Dosy laugbed so loud, tbat I bad not time, and my 
 only resource AA\as to swalloAv Avbat I bad just made, Tbe en- 
 sign folloAved up bis victory Avitbout mercy, 
 
 " * Talking of potatoes, Miss Tbeodosia,' said be, looking at 
 me, ' puts me in mind of truffles. Do you knoAV tbis most ex- 
 quisite cake of yours mucb resembles a gateau aux truffes 1 By
 
 342 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Gad ! how Colonel Thornton, Sir Harry Millicent, Lord Mortgage- 
 shire, and that desperate fellow, the Honourable and Reverend 
 Dick Sellenger,* and I used to tuck in truffles, when we were 
 quartered in Paris. Mortgagesliire — an uncommon droll fellow ; 
 I used to call his Lordship Morty — he called me Brad — we 
 were on such terms ; and we used to live together in the E-ue 
 de la Paix, that beautiful street close by the Place Vendome, 
 where there's the pillar. You have been at Paris, Miss Mac- 
 namaral' asked the ensign, filling his mouth with a half-pound 
 bite of the potato-cake at the same moment. 
 
 " Dosy confessed that she had never travelled into any foreign 
 parts except the kingdom of Kerry ; and on the same question 
 being repeated to me, I was obliged to admit that I was in a 
 similar predicament. Brady was triumphant. 
 
 " ' It is a loss to any man,' said he, ' not to have been in Paris. 
 I know that city well, and so I ought ; but I did many naughty 
 things there.' 
 
 " ' fie !' said Mrs. Macnamara. 
 
 " ' 0, madam,' continued Brady, ' the fact is, that the Paris 
 ladies v/^ere rather too fond of us English. When I say English, 
 I mean Scotch and Irish as well ; but, nevertheless, I think 
 Irishmen had more good lack than the natives of the other two 
 islands.' 
 
 " ' In my geography book,' said Miss Dosy, ' it is put down 
 only as one island, consisting of England, capital London, on the 
 Thames, in the south ; and Scotland, capital Edinburgh, on the 
 Forth, in the north ; population' 
 
 "'Gad! you are right,' said Brady — 'perfectly right, Miss 
 Macnamara. I see you are quite a blue. But, as I was saying, 
 it is scarce possible for a good-looking young English officer to 
 escape the French ladies. And then I played rather deep — on 
 the whole, however, I think I may say I Avon. Mortgageshire and 
 1 broke Frascati's one night — we won a hundred thousand francs 
 at rouge, and fifty-four thousand at roulette. You would have 
 thought the croupiers Avould have fainted ; they tore their hair 
 with vexation. The money, however, soon went again — Ave could 
 
 * Selleno-er is the fasliionable pronunciation of St. Loger. Tluis, at Oxford, 
 St. Mary'i* Hiill is spoken of ns Sinunery ^All. — M.
 
 BOB BURKE'S duel WITH ENSIGN RRADY. 34B 
 
 not keep it. As for wine, you have it cheap tliere, and of a qual- 
 ity which you cannot get in Englantl. At Vcry's, for example, 
 I drank chambertine — it is a kind of claret — for three francs 
 two sous a bottle, which was, beyond all comparison, far supe- 
 rior to what I drank a couple of months ago at the Duke of 
 Devonshire's, though his Grace prides himself on that very 
 wine, and sent to a particular bin for a favourite specimen, when 
 I observed to him I had tasted better in Paris. Out of polite- 
 ness, I pretended to approve of his Grace's choice ; but I give 
 you my honour — only I Avould not wish it to i-each his Grace's 
 ears — it was not to be compared to what I had at Very's for a 
 moment.' 
 
 " So flowed on Brady for a couple of hours. The Tooleries, 
 as he thought proper to call them ; the Louvre, with its pictures, 
 the removal of which he deplored as a matter of taste, assuring 
 us that he had used all his influence with the Emperor of Rus- 
 sia and the Duke of Wellington to prevent it, but in vain ; the 
 Boulevards, the opera, the theatres, the Champs Elysees, the 
 Montagues Russes — every thing, in short, about Paris, was de- 
 picted to the astonished mind of Miss Dosy. Then came Lon- 
 don — where he belonged to I do not know how many clubs — 
 and cut a most distinguished figure in the fashionable world. 
 He was of the Prince Regent's set, and assured us, on his hou 
 our, that there was never any thing so ill-founded as the stories 
 afloat to the discredit of that illustrious person. But on what 
 happened at Carlton-house, he felt obliged to keep silence, the 
 Pi'ince being remarkably strict in exacting a promise from every 
 gentleman whom he admitted to his table, not to divulge any 
 thing that occurred there — a violation of which promise was the 
 cause of the exclusion of Brummell. As for the Pnnccss of 
 Wales, he would rather not say any thing. 
 
 " And so forth. Now, in those days of my innocence, I be- 
 lieved these stories as gospel, hating the fellow all the while 
 from the bottom of my heart, as I saw that he made a deep im- 
 pression on Dosy, who sate in open-mouthed wonder, swallow- 
 ing them down as a common-councilman swallows turtle. But 
 times are changed. I have seen Paris and London since, and I 
 believe I knew both villages as well as most men, and the deuce
 
 844 TUFu ODOFIERTY PAPERS. 
 
 a Avord of truth did Bnulj' tell in liis whole jiairaHve. In Paris, 
 when not in quarters, (he hr.d joined some six or eight months 
 after Waterloo,) he lived an cinqnantieme in a dog-hole in thfe 
 E.ue Git-le-Coenr, (a street at what I may call the Surrey side 
 of Paris,) among carters and other such folk ; and in London I 
 discovered that his principal domicile was in one of the courts 
 now demolished to make room for the fine new gimcrackery at 
 Charing Cross ; it was in Hound Court, at a pieman's of the 
 name of Dudfield." 
 
 "Dick Dudfield?" said Jack Ginger, "I knew the man well 
 — a most particular friend of mine. He was a duffer hesides 
 being a pieman, and was transported some years ago. lie is 
 now a flourishing merchant in Australasia, and will, I suppose, 
 in due time he grandfather to a member of Congress." 
 
 " There it was that Brady lived then,'' continued Bob Burke, 
 " when he was hob-nobbing with Georgius Quartus, and dancing 
 at Almack's Avith Lady Elizabeth Conynghame. Faith, the 
 nearest approach he eA'er made to royalty Avas Avlien he Avas put 
 into the King's OAvn Bench, where he sojourned many a long 
 day. What an ass I Avas to believe a word of such stuff! but, 
 neA^ertheless, it goes down Avith the rustics to the present minute. 
 I sometimes sport a duke or so myself, Avhen I find myself among 
 yokels, and I rise vastly in estimation by so doing. What do 
 Ave come to London or Paris for, but to get some touch of know- 
 ing how to do things properly 1 It Avould be devilish hard, I 
 think, for Ensign Brady, or Ensign Brady's master, to do me 
 noAv-a-days by flamming off titles of high life." 
 
 The company did no more than justice to Mr. Burke's expe- 
 rience, by unanimously admitting that such a feat Avas all but 
 impossible. 
 
 " I was," he Avent on, " a good deal annoyed at my inferiority, 
 and I could not help seeing that ]\Iiss Dosy was making com- 
 parisons that Avere rather odious, as she glanced from the gay 
 iniiform of the Ensign on my habiliments, which having been 
 perpetrated by a MalloAv tailor Avidi a hatchet, or pitchfork, or 
 pickaxe, or some such tool, did not stand the scriitiny to adA-an- 
 tage. I Avas, I think, a better-looking fellow than Brady. Well, 
 Avell — laugh if you like. I am no bcanty, I know; l)ut then,
 
 BOB BURKE'S duel WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 345, 
 
 coiisidei* that M'hat I am talking- of was sixteen years ago, and 
 more ; and a man does not stand the battering I have gone 
 through for these sixteen years with impunity. Do you call the 
 thirty or forty thousand tumblers of punch, in all its varieties, 
 that I have since imbibed, nothing '?" 
 
 "Yes," said Jack Ginger, Avith a sigh, "there was a song we 
 used to sing on board the Brimstone, when cruising about the 
 Spanish main — 
 
 " 'If Mnrs li'aves his scars, jolly Bacclins as well 
 Sets his trace on the face, which a toper will tell ; 
 But which a more merry campaign has pursued, 
 Tiie siiedder of wine or the sliedder of hlood?' 
 
 I forget the rest of it. Poor Ned Nixon ! It was he wlio made 
 that song — he was afterwards bit in two by a shark, having 
 tumbled overboard in the cool of the evening, one fine summer 
 day, off Port Royal." 
 
 " Well, at all events," said Burke, continuing his narrative, 
 "T. thought I was a better-looking fellow than my rival, and 
 was fretted at being sung down. I resolved to outstay him — 
 and, though he sate long enougli, I, who was more at home, con- 
 trived to remain after him, but it was only to hear him extolled. 
 
 "*A very nice young man,' said Mrs. Macnamara. 
 
 "'An extreme nice young man,' res}>onded Miss Theodosia. 
 
 "'A perfect gentleman in his manners; he puts me quite in 
 mind of my uncle, the late Jerry O'Regan,' observed Mrs. Mac- 
 namara. 
 
 "'Quite the gentleman in every particular,' ejaculated Miss 
 Theodosia. 
 
 " 'He has seen a great deal of the world for so young a man,* 
 remarked Mrs. IMacnamara. 
 
 "'He has mixed in the best society, too,' cried ]\[iss Theo- 
 dosia. 
 
 "'It is a great advantage to a young man to travel,' quoth 
 Mrs. Macnamara. 
 
 "'And a very great disadvantage to a young man to be 
 always sticking at home,' cliimed in jMiss Theodosia, looking at 
 me; 'it shuts them out from nil chances of the elegance which 
 we have just seen displayed by Ensign Brady of the 4Sth foot.' 
 
 "1.5*
 
 346" THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 "'For my part,' said 1, ' I do not think him such an elegant 
 fellow at all. Do you remember, Dosy Macnamara, how he 
 looked when he got up out of the green puddle to-day ]'" 
 
 " 'Mr. Burke,' said she, 'that was an accident that might hap- 
 pen any man. You were thrown yourself this day week, on 
 clearing Jack Falvey's wall — so you need not reflect on Mr. 
 Brady.' 
 
 " 'If I was,' said I, ' it was as fine a leap as ever was made ; 
 and I was on my mare in half a shake afterwards. Bob Buller 
 of Ballythomas, or Jack Prendergast, or Fergus O'Connor, could 
 not have rode it better. And you too' — 
 
 " 'Well,' said she, ' I am not going to dispute with you. I am 
 sleepy, and must get to bed.' 
 
 " 'Do, poor chicken,' said Mrs. Macnamara, soothingly ; 'and, 
 Bob, my dear, I wish it was in your power to go travel, and see 
 the Booleries and the Tooleyvards, and the rest, and then you 
 might be, in course of time, as genteel as Ensign Brady.' 
 
 "'Heigho!' said Miss Dosy, ejecting a sigh. 'Travel, Bob, 
 travel.' 
 
 "'I will,' said I, at once, and left the house in the most ab- 
 rupt manner, after consigning Ensign Brady to the particular 
 attention of Tisiphone, Alecto, and IVlagajra, all compressed into 
 one emphatic monosyllable. 
 
 CH.\P. IV. HOW BOB BURKE, AFTRR AN INTERVIEW WITH 
 
 BARNEV PULVERTAFT, ASCERTAINED THAT HE WAS DESPE- 
 RATELY IN LOVE WITH MISS THEODOSIA MACNAMARA. 
 
 " On leaving Dosy's lodgings, I began to consult the state of 
 my heart. Am I really, said I, so much in love, as to lose my 
 temper, if this prating ensign should carry off the lady ? I Avas 
 much puzzled to resolve the question. I walked up and down 
 the Spa- Walk, whiffing a cigar, for a quarter of an hour, without 
 being able to come to a decision. At last, just as the cigar was 
 out, my eye caught a light in the window of Barney Pulvertaft, 
 the attorney — old Six-and-Eightpence, as we used to call him. 
 I knew he ^vas the confidential agent of the Macnamaras ; and 
 as he had carried on sixteen lawsuits for mv father, I thought I
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 347 
 
 had a claim to learn something about the affairs of ]\Iiss Dosy. 
 I understood she was an heiress, but had never, initil now, 
 thought of enquiring into the precise amoimt of her expectances. 
 Seeing that the old fellow was up, I determined to step over, 
 and found him in the middle of law-papers, although it was then 
 rather late, with a pot-bellied jug, of the bee-hive pattern, by his 
 side, full of punch — or rather, I should say, half-full; for Six- 
 and-Eightpenee had not been idle. His snuft'-coloured Avig was" 
 cocked on one side of his head — his old velveteen breeches open 
 at the knee — his cravat oft' — his shirt unbuttoned — his stock- 
 ings half down his lean legs — his feet in a pair of woi'sted slip- 
 pers. The old fellow was, in short, relaxed for the night, but 
 he had his pen in his hand. 
 
 ^'I am only filling copies of capidxex, Bob,' snid he; 'light 
 and pleasant work, which does not distress one in an evening. 
 There are a few of your friends booked here. What has brought 
 you to me so late to-night? — but your father's son is always 
 welcome. Aye, there were few men like your father — never 
 stagged in a lawsuit in his life — saw it ahvays out to the 
 end — drove it from court to court; — if he Avas beat, why, 
 so much the worse, but he never fretted — if he won, faith! he 
 squeezed the opposite party well. Aye, he was a good-hearted, 
 honest, straightforwa^'d man. I wish I had a hundred such cli- 
 ents. So here's his memory any how.' 
 
 " Six-and-Eightj)ence had a good right to give the toast, as 
 what constituted the excellence of my father in his eyes had 
 moved most of the good acres of Ballyburke out of the family 
 into the hands of Ihe lawyers; but from filial duty I complied 
 with the attorney's request — the more readily, because I well 
 knew, from long experience, that his skill in punch-making Avas 
 unimpeachable. So we talked about my father's old lawsuits, 
 and I got Barney into excellent humour, by letting him tell me 
 of the great skill and infinite adroitness which he had displayed 
 upon a multiplicity of occasions. It was not, however, until we 
 were deep in the second jug, and Six-and-Eightpencc was be- 
 ginning to show symptoms of being cf/f, that I A'cntured to intro- 
 duce the subject of mj' visit. I did it as cautiously as I could, 
 but the old fellow somi found out mv drift.
 
 348 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 "'No,' liiccupecl lie — 'Bob — 'twont — 'twont do. Close as 
 green — green wax. Never te-tell profess-profess-professional 
 secrets. Know her expec — hiccup — -tances to a ten-ten-penny. 
 So you are after — after — her? Ah, Bo-bob ? She'll be a ca- 
 cntch — let not a worword from me. No — never. Bar-ney 
 Pepulverta-taft is game to the last. Never be-betrayed ye-your 
 father. God rest his soul — he Avas a wo-worthy man.' 
 
 " On this recollection of the merits of my sainted sire, the at 
 torney wept ; and in spite of all his professional determinations, 
 whether the potency of the fluid or the memory of the deceased 
 acted vipon him, I got at the facts. Dosy had not more than a 
 couple of hundred pounds in the world — her mother's property 
 Avas an annuity AvlVich expired Avith herself; but her xmclo, by 
 the father's side, Mick Macnamara of Kawleash, had an estate 
 of at least five hundred a-year, Avhich, in case of his dying Avith- 
 out issue, Avas to come to her — besides a poAver of money saA^ed ; 
 ]\rick being one who, to use the elegant phraseology of my friend 
 the attorney, Avould skin a flea for the sake of selling the hide. 
 All this money, ten thousand pounds, or something equally mu- 
 sical, Avould in all probability go to Miss Dosy — the ,.€500 a-year 
 was hers by entail. Noav, as her uncle Avas eighty-four years 
 old, unmarried, and in the last stage of the palsy, it Avas a thing 
 so sure as the bank, that Miss Dosy Avas a very rich heiress 
 indeed. 
 
 ♦"So — so, 'said Six-and-Eightpence — 'this — this — is strictly 
 confidle-confid-con-fiddledential. Do — do not say a Avord about 
 it. I ought not to have to-told it — but, you do-dog, you whee- 
 dled it out of me. Da-dang it, I co-could not ref-fuse your 
 father's so-son. You are very like him — as I sa-saAV him sitting 
 many a ti-time in that cha-chair. But you nev-neA'er Avill have 
 his spu-spunk in a sho-shoot (suit). There, the lands of Arry- 
 arry-arry-bally-bally-be-beg-clock-clough-macde-de-duagh — con- 
 found the wo-Avord — of Arry bally begcloughmacduagh, the finest 
 be-bog in the co-coimtry — are ye-yours^but you haven't spu- 
 spunk to go into Cha-chancery for it, like your Avorthy fa-father, 
 Go-god rest his soul. BIoav out that se-sec-ond ca-candle, Bo- 
 bob, for I hate waste.' 
 
 " ' Thei-o's bi;t one in tlie room, BnrneA'.' said T.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 349 
 
 " ' You mean to say,' luccuped he, ' tliat I am to-te-tipsy ? 
 Well, well, ye-yomig- fe-fellows, well, I am their je-joke. How- 
 ever, as the je-jug is out, you most be je-jogging. Early to 
 
 bed, and early to rise, is the way to be . However, le-lend 
 
 me your arm up the sta-stairs, for they are A'ery sllp-slippcry to- 
 night.' 
 
 " I conducted the attorney to his bedchamber, and safely 
 stowed him into bed, Avhilc he kept stammering forth praises on 
 my worthy father, and upbraiding mo with want of spunk in 
 not carrying on a Chancery-suit began by him some tAvelve 
 years before, for a couple of hundred acres of bog, the value of 
 which would scarcely have amounted to the price of the parch- 
 ment expended on it. Having performed this duty, I proceeded 
 homewards, labouring under a variety of sensations, 
 
 " How delicious is the feeling of love, when it first takes full 
 possession of a youthful bosom ! . Before its balmy influei^ce 
 vanish all selfish thoughts — all grovelling notions. Pure and 
 sublimated, the soul looks forward to objects beyond self, aujl 
 merges all ideas of personal identity in aspirations of the felicity 
 to bo derived from the being adored. A thrill of rapture per- 
 vades the breast — an intense but bland flame permeates every 
 A'^ein — throbs in every pulse. Oh, blissful period! brief in 
 duration, but crowded Avith thoughts of hapjiiness never to recur 
 again ! As I gained the Walk, the moon Avas high and bright 
 in lieaA-en, pouring a flood of mild light oA-er the trees. The 
 stars shone Avith sapphire lustre in the cloudless sky — not a breeze 
 disturbed the deep serene. I Avas alone. I thought of my love 
 — of Avhat else could I think? What I had just heard had 
 kindled my passion for the divine Theodosia into a quenchless 
 blaze. Yes, I exclaimed aloud, I do love her. Such an angel 
 does not exist on the earth. What charms ! What innocence ! 
 What horseAvomanship ! Five hundred a-year certain ! Ten 
 thousand pounds in perspective ! I'll repurchase the lands of 
 Ballyburke — I'll rebuild the hunting-lodge in the Galtees — I'll 
 keep a pack of hounds, and live a sporting life. Oh, dear, di- 
 A'ine Theodosia, hoAV I do adore you ! I'll shoot that Brady; 
 and no mistake. How dare he interfere Avhere my ;; (lections are 
 so inevocaldv fixed ?
 
 360 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " Sucli were my musings. Alas ! how Ave are changed as we 
 progress through the world ! That breast becomes arid, which 
 once was open to every impression of the tender passion. The 
 rattle of the dice-box beats out of the head the rattle of the 
 quiver of Cupid — and the shuffling of the cards renders the 
 rustling of his Avings inaudible. The necessity of looking after 
 a tablecloth supersedes that of looking after a petticoat, and 
 Ave more Avillingly make an assignation Avith a mutton-chop, than 
 Avith an angel in female form. The bonds of love are exchanged 
 for those of the conveyancer — bills take the place of billets, 
 and Ave do not protest, but are protested against, by a three-and- 
 sixpenny notary. Such are the melancholy effects of age. I 
 knew them not then. I continued to muse full of SAveet thoughts, 
 until gradually the moon faded from the sky — the stars Avent 
 out — and all Avas darkness. Morning succeeded to night, and, 
 on aAvaking, I found, that aAving to the forgetfulness in Avhich 
 the thoughts of the fair Theodosia had plunged me, I had se- 
 lected the bottom step of old Barney Pulvertaft's door as my 
 couch, and Avas aAvakened from repose in consequence of his 
 servant-maid (one Norry Mulcaky) having emptied the contents 
 of her — Avashing tub, over my slumbering person. 
 
 CHAP. V. — HOW BOB BURKE, AFTER CONSULTATION WITH WOODEN 
 LEG WADDV, FOUGHT THE DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY FOR 
 THE SAKE OF MISS THEODOSIA MACNAMARA. 
 
 "At night I had fallen asleep fierce in the determination of 
 exterminating Brady ; but Avith the morrow, cool reflection came 
 — made probably cooler by the aspersion I had suffered. Hoav 
 could I fight him, Avhen he had never given me the slightest 
 affront ? To be sure, picking a quarrel is not hard, thank God, 
 in any part of Ireland ; but unless I Avas quick about it, he 
 might get so deep into the good graces of Dosy, who Avas as 
 flammable as tinder, that even my shooting him might not be of 
 any practical advantage to myself. Then, besides, he might 
 shoot me ; and, in fact, I Avas not by any moans so determined 
 in the affair at seven o'clock in the morning as I Avas at twelve 
 o'clock at night. I got home, however, dressed, shaved, &c, 
 and turned out. 'T think,' said T to mvsolf, 'the best thing 1
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 351 
 
 can do, is to go and consult Woodeii-leg "VVaddy ; and, as lie is 
 an early man, I shall catch him now,' The thought was no 
 sooner formed than executed ; and in less than five minutes I 
 Avas walking with Wooden-leg "Waddy in his garden, at the back 
 of his house, by the banks of the Blackwater. 
 
 "Waddy had been in the Ilundred-and-First, and had seen 
 much service in that distinguished corps." 
 
 " I remember it Avell during the Avar," said Antony Harrison ; 
 "we used to call it the Hungry-and-Worst ; — but it did its duty 
 on a pinch nevertheless." 
 
 " No matter," continued Burke ; " Waddy had served a good 
 deal, and lost his leg somehow, for which he had a pension be- 
 sides his half pay, and he lived in ease and affluence among the 
 Bucks of Mallow. He Avas a great hand at settling ami arran- 
 ging duels, being what Ave generally call in Ireland a judgmatical 
 sort of man — a Avord Avhich, I think, might be introduced Avith 
 advantage into the English vocabulary. When I called on him, 
 he Avas smoking his meershaum, as he Avalked up and. down his 
 garden in an old undress coat, and a fur cap on his head, I 
 b.ade him good morning ; to Avhich salutation he answered by a 
 nod, and a more prolonged AvhifF. 
 
 " ' I want to speak to you. Wooden-leg,' said I, ' on a matter 
 Avhich nearly concerns me.' On Avhich, I received another nod, 
 and another Avhiff in reply. 
 
 " ' The fact is,' said I, ' that there is an Ensign Bivady of the 
 48th quartered here, Avith Avhom I have some reason to be angry, 
 and I am thinking of calling him out. I have come to ask your 
 advice Avhether I should do so or not. He has deeply injured 
 me, by interfering between me and the girl of my affections. 
 What ought I to do in such a case V 
 
 " ' Fight him — by all means,' said Wooden- leg Waddy, 
 
 " ' But the difficulty is this — he has offered me no affront, di- 
 rect or indirect — Ave haA'e no quarrel AA-hatever — and he has 
 not paid, any addresses to the lady. He and I have scarcely 
 been in contact at all, I do not see how I can manage it im- 
 mediately Avith any propriety. What then can I do noAV V 
 
 " ' Do not fight him, by any means,' said Wooden-leg Waddy. 
 
 " ' Still these are the facts of the case. He, Avhetlier inton-
 
 352 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 tionally or not, is coining between me and my mistress, Ti'lnch 
 is doing me an iujnvy perfectly eqnal to the grossest insnlt. How 
 sliould I act r 
 
 "'Fight him, by all means,' said AYooden-leg AVaddy. 
 
 " ' But then I fear if I were to call him out on a gromidless 
 quarrel, or one which would appear to be such, that I should lose 
 the good graces of the lady, and be laughed at by my friends, 
 or set down as a quarrelsome and dangerous companion.' 
 
 " ' Do not fight liim then, by any means,' said Wooden-leg 
 Waddy. 
 
 " 'Yet as he is a military man, he must know enougli of the 
 etiquette of these affairs to feel perfectly confident that lie has 
 afironted me ; and the opinion of a military man, standing, as 
 of course he does, in the rank and position of a gentleman, could 
 not, I think, be overlooked without disgrace.' 
 
 " ' Fight him by all means,' said Wooden-leg Waddy. 
 
 " ' But then, talking of gentlemen, I own he is in an officer 
 of the 48th, but his father is a fish-tackle seller in John Street, 
 Kilkenny, who keeps a three-halfpenny shop, where you may 
 buy every thing, from a cheese to a cheese-toaster, from a felt 
 hat to a pair of brogues, from a pound of brown soap to a yard 
 of huckaback towels. He got his commission by his father's 
 retiring from the Ormonde interest,* and acting as whip])er-in 
 to the sham freeholders from Castlecomer ; and I am, as you 
 know, of the best blood of the Burkes — straight from the De 
 Burgos t themselves — and Avhen I think of that, I really do not 
 like to meet this Mr. Brady.' 
 
 " ' Do not fight him, by any means,' said Wooden-leg Waddy. 
 
 " This advice of your friend Waddy to you," said Tom Meg- 
 got, interrupting Burke, " much resembles that which Pantagruel 
 gave Panurge on the subject of his marriage, as I heard a friend 
 of mine, Percy, of Gray's Inn, reading to me the other day." 
 
 " I do not knoAv the people you speak of," continued Bob, 
 " but such was the advice which Waddy gave me. 
 
 * The Marquis of Ormoiulc resiili'd ;it tlio Cnstle, Kilkenny, and had con- 
 siderable interest in the pailiaiiiontaty buiough. — M. 
 
 \ Ulick .Tolin de Bargh {alias Burke), Murquis of Clcnri(-ard(>, claims to bi 
 ii'jiri'sontativi- of tlu- Di> Rnrgo iMniilv, of the county of GaUvay. — M.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 353 
 
 "'Why," said I, ' "Wootlen-lcg, my friend, this is like playing 
 battledore and sluittlecock ; what is knocked forward with one 
 hand is knocked back with the other. Come, tell me what I 
 onght to do." 
 
 " ' Well,' said AA^ooden-leg, taking the meershaum out of his 
 mouth, ' in duhiis stispice, &c. Let us decide it by tossing a half- 
 penny. If it comes down //cad, you fight — if //arp, you do not. 
 Nothing can be fairer.' 
 
 " I assented. 
 
 " ' Which,' said he, ' is it to be — two out of three, as at New- 
 market, or the first toss to decide V 
 
 " ' Sudden death,' said I, ' and there will soon be an end of it.' 
 
 ** * Up went the halfpenny, and we looked with anxious eyes 
 for its descent, when, unluckily, it stuck in a gooseberry bush. 
 
 " ' I don't like that,' said Wooden-leg Waddy ; ' for it's a token 
 of bad luck. But here goes again.' 
 
 "Again the copper soared to the sky^ and down it came — 
 head. 
 
 " ' I wish you joy, my friend,' said Waddy ; ' you are to fight. 
 That Avas my opinion all along, though I did not like to commit 
 myself. I can lend you a pair of the most beautiful duelling 
 pistols ever put into a man's hand — Wogden's, I swear. The 
 last time they Avere out, they shot Joe Brown of Mount Badger 
 as dead as Harry the Eighth.' 
 
 " * Will you be my second V said I. 
 
 " ' Why, no,' replied Wooden-leg, ' I cannot ; for I am bound 
 over by a rascally magistrate to keep the peace, becaixse I barely 
 broke the head of a blackguard bailiff, who came here to serve 
 a writ on a friend of mine, with one of my spare legs. But I can 
 get you a second at once. My nephew, Major Mug, has just 
 come to me on a few days' visit, and, as he is quite idle, it will 
 give him some amusement to be your second. Look up at his 
 bedroom — you see he is shaving himself.' 
 
 " In a short time the Major made his appearance, dressed 
 with a most military accuracy of costume. There was not a 
 speck of dust on his well-brushed blue surtout — not a vestige 
 of hair, except the regulation whiskers, on his closely-shaven 
 countenance. His hat was brushed to the most glossy perfec-
 
 354 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 tion — his boots shone in the jetty glow of Day and Martin. 
 There Avas scarcely an onnce of flesh on his hard and weather- 
 beaten face, and, as he stood rigidly npright, you would have 
 sworn that every sinew and muscle of his body was as stiff as 
 whipcord. He saluted us in military style, and was soon put in 
 possession of the case. Wooden-leg Waddy insinuated that 
 there were hardly as yet grounds fur a duel. 
 
 "'I diifer,' said Major Mug, 'decidedly — the grounds are 
 ample. I never saw a clearer case in my life, and I have been 
 principal or second in seven-and-twenty. If I collect your story 
 rightly, Mr. Burke, he gave you an abrupt answer in the field, 
 which was highly derogatory to the lady in question, and im- 
 pertinently rude to yourself?' 
 
 " ' He certainly,' said I, ' gave me what we call a short an- 
 swer ; but I did not notice it at the time, and he has since made 
 friends with the j^oung lad}'.' 
 
 " ' It matters nothing,' observed Major Slug, ' what you may 
 think, or she may think. The business is now in my hands, and 
 I must see you through it. The first thing to be done is to 
 write him a letter. Send out for paper — let it be gilt-edged, 
 Waddy — that we may do the thing genteelly. I'll dictate, Mr. 
 Burke, if you please.' 
 
 " And so he did. As well as I can recollect, the note was as 
 follows : — 
 
 " ' Spa Walk, Mallow, June 3, IS— 
 
 •' ' Eight o'clock in the morning. 
 
 '"Sir, — A desire for harmony and peace, which has at all 
 times actuated my conduct, prevented me, yesterday, from ask- 
 ing you the meaning of the short and contemptuous message 
 which you commissioned me to deliver to a certain young lady 
 of our acquaintance, whose name I do not choose to drag into a 
 correspondence. But now that there is no danger of its disturbing 
 any one, I must say that in your desiring me to tell that young 
 lady she might consider herself as d — d, you were guilty of con- 
 duct highly unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman, and sub- 
 versive of the discipline of the hunt. I have the honour to be, 
 sir, your most obedient humble servant, 
 
 " ' Egbert Burke.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 355 
 
 "' P. 8. — This note Avill be (lelivevcil to you by my friend, 
 Major Mug, of the 3cl West Indian ; and you will, I trust, see 
 the propriety of referriuf^ liini to another gentleman without fur- 
 tlier dela}'.' 
 
 " ' That, I think, is neat,' said the Major. • Now, seal it with 
 wax, Mr. Burke, with wax — and let the seal be your anns. 
 That's right. Now, direct it.' 
 
 " ' Ensign Brady ]' 
 
 " * No — no — the right thing would be, " Mr. Brady, Ensign, 
 48th foot," but custom allows " Esquire." That will do. — 
 " Thady Brady, Esq., Ensign, 48tli Foot, Barracks, Mallow." 
 He shall have it in less than a quarter of an hour.' 
 
 " The Major was as good as his word, and in about half an 
 hour he brought back the result of his mission. The Ensign, 
 he told us, was extremely reluctant to fight, and Avanted to be 
 off, on the ground that he had meant no oftence, did not even 
 remember having used the expression, and offered to ask the 
 lady if she conceived for a moment he had any idea of saying 
 any thing but what was complimentary to her. 
 
 " ' In fact,' said the Major, ' he at first plumply refused to 
 fight; but I soon brought him to reason. ' Sir,' said I, ' you 
 either consent to fight, or refuse to fight. In the first case, 
 the thing is settled to hand, and we are not called upon to en- 
 quire if there was an affront or not — in the second case, your 
 refusal to comply with a gentleman's request is, of itself, an of- 
 fence for which he has a right to call you out. Put it, then, on 
 any grounds, you must fight him. It is perfectly indifferent to 
 me what the grounds may be ; and I Iwve only to request the 
 name of your friend, as I too much respect the coat you wear, to 
 think that there can be any other alternative.' This brought 
 the chap to his senses, and he referred me to Captain Codd, of 
 his own regiment, at which I felt much pleased, because Codd 
 is an intimate friend of my own, he and I having fought a duel 
 three years ago in Falmouth, in which I lost the top of this little 
 finger, and he his left whisker. It was a near touch. He is as 
 honourable a man as ever paced a ground ; and I am sure that 
 he will no more let his man off the field until business is done, 
 than I would myself.'
 
 356 THE ODOIIERTY PAPERS. 
 
 " ' I own,' continued Burke, ' I did not half relisli tliis an- 
 nouncement of the firm purpose of our seconds ; but I was in for 
 it, and could not get back. I sometimes tb ought Dosy a dear 
 purchase at such an expense ; but it was no use to grumble. 
 Major Mug was sorry to say that there Avas a review to take 
 place immediately, at which the Ensign must attend, and it was 
 impossible for him to meet me until the evening ; ' but,' added 
 he, ' at this time of the year it can be of no great conse- 
 quence. There will be plenty of light till nine, but I have 
 fixed seven. In the meantime, you may as well divert yourself 
 with a little pistol practice, but do it on the sly, as, if they Avere 
 shabby enough to have a trial, it Avould not tell well before the 
 
 " Promising to take a quiet chop Avith me at five, the Major 
 retired, leaving me not quite contented with the state of affairs. 
 I sat down, and wrote a letter to my cousin, Phil Purdon of 
 Kanturk, telling him what I was about, and giving directions 
 what was to be done in the case of any fatal event. I commu- 
 nicated to him the whole story — deplored my unhappy fate in 
 being thus cut off in the floAver of my youth — left him three 
 pair of buckskin breeches — and repented my sins. This letter 
 I immediately packed off by a special messenger, and then be- 
 gan half-a-dozen others, of various styles of tenderness and sen- 
 timentality, to be delivered after my melancholy decease. The 
 day went off fast enough, I assure you ; and at five the ]\Iajor, 
 and "Wooden-leg Waddy, arrived in high spirits. 
 
 " ' Here, ray boy,' said Waddy, handing me the pistols, ' here 
 are the flutes ; and pretfy music, I can tell you, they make.' 
 
 " ' As for dinner,' said Major .Mug, ' I do not much care ; but, 
 Mr, Burke, I hope it is ready, as I am rather hungry. "We 
 must dine lightly, hoAvever, and drink not much. If Ave come 
 off with flying colours, Ave may crack a bottle together by and 
 by ; in case you shoot Brady, I have every thing arranged for 
 our keeping out of the Avay until the thing bloAvs over — if he 
 shoot you, I'll see you buried. Of course, you Avould not recom- 
 mend any thing so ungenteel as a prosecution. No. I'll take 
 care it shall all appear in the papers, and announce that Robert 
 Burke, Esq., met his death with becoming fortitude, assuring the
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSIGN BRADY. 357 
 
 unhappy survivor that he heartily forgave him, and wished him 
 health and happiness.' 
 
 " ' I must tell yon,' said Wooden-log Waddy, ' it's all over 
 Mallow, and the whole town will he on the ground to see it. 
 Miss Dosy knows of it, and is quite deliglited — she says she 
 will certainly marry the survivor. I spoke to the magistrate to 
 keep out of the way, and he promised, that though it deprived 
 him of a great pleasure, he would go and dine five miles off — 
 and know nothing about it. But here comes dinner. Let us he 
 
 jolly-' 
 
 " I cannot say that I played on that day as brilliant a part with 
 the knife and fork as I usually do, and did not sympathize much in 
 the speculations of my guests, who pushed the bottle about with 
 great energy, recommending me, however, to refrain. At last, 
 the Major looked at his watch, which he had kept lying on the 
 table before him from the beginning of dinner — started up — 
 clapped me on the shoulder, and declaring it only wanted six 
 minutes and thirty-five seconds of the time, hurried me off to 
 the scene of action — a field close by the Castle.* 
 
 " There certainly was a miscellaneous assemblage of the in- 
 habitants of MalloAv, all anxious to see the duel. They had 
 pitted us like game-cocks, and bets were freely taken as to the 
 chances of our killing one another, and the particular spots. One 
 betted on my being hit in the jaw, another Avas so kind as to lay 
 the odds on my knee. A tolerably general opinion appeared to 
 prevail that one or other of us was to be killed ; and much good- 
 humoured joking took place among them, while they were de- 
 ciding which. As I was double the thickness of my antagonist, 
 I was clearly the favorite for being shot ; and I heard one fel- 
 low near me say, ' Three to two on Burke, that he's shot first — 
 1 bet in ten-pennies.' 
 
 "Brady and Oodd soon appeared, and the preliminaries were 
 arranged with much punctilio between our seconds, who mutually 
 
 * The Castle is the residence of Sir C. D. O. Je))lis()ii ISorreys, M. P. for 
 the town of Mallow. The family name is .Jephson, (changed lo Norreys in 
 1838,) and the family who own the Manor of Mallow, are descendants fiom 
 Sir John 'Jephson who, ill tlie time of James I., married the heiress of Sir 
 John Noneys, I'resideiit of Muusttr. — M. *
 
 858 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 and loudly extolled each other's gentlemanlike mode of doing 
 business. Brady could scarcely stand with fright, and I confess 
 that I did not feel quite as Hector of Troy, or the Seven Cham- 
 pions of Christendom, are reported to have done on similar occa- 
 sions. At last the ground Avas measured — the pistols handed 
 to the principals — the handkerchief dropped — whiz ! went the 
 bullet within an inch of my ear — and crack! went mine ex- 
 actly on Ensign Brady's waistcoat pocket. By an imaccounta- 
 ble accident, there was a five-shilling piece in that very pocket, 
 and the ball glanced away, Avhile Brady doubled himself down, 
 uttering a loud howl that might be heard half a mile off. The 
 crowd was so attentive as to give a huzza for my success. 
 
 " Codd ran up to his principal, who was writhing as if he had 
 ten thousand colics, and soon ascertained that no harm was done. 
 
 '"What do you propose,' said he to my second — ' What do 
 you propose to do, Major ]' 
 
 " ' As there is neither blood drawn nor bone broken,' said the 
 Major, ' I think that shot goes for nothing.' 
 
 •' ' I agree with you,' said Captain Codd. 
 
 " ' If your party Avill apologize,' said Major Mug, I'll take my 
 man off the ground.' 
 
 " ' Certainly,' said Captain Codd, ' you are quite right, Major, in 
 asking the apology, but you knovt' that it is my duty to refuse it.' 
 
 " 'You are correct, Captain,' said the Major; 'I then formally 
 require that Ensign Brady apologize to Mr. Burke.* 
 
 '" I as formally refuse it,' said Captain Codd. 
 
 " 'We must have another shot, then,' said the Major. 
 
 " 'Another shot, by all means,' said the Captain. 
 
 " 'Captain Codd,' said the Major, ' you have shown yourt^elf in 
 this, as in every transaction of your life, a perfect gentleman.' 
 
 " 'He Avho would dare to say,' replied the Captain, ' that Ma- 
 jor Mug is not among the most gentlemanlike men in the ser- 
 vice, would speak what is untrue.' 
 
 " Our seconds bowed, took a pinch of snuff together, and pro- 
 ceeded to load the pistols. Neither Brady nor I was particu- 
 larly pleased at these complimentaiy speeches of the gentlemen, 
 and, I am sure, had we been left to ourselves, would have de- 
 clitted the second shot. As it was, it appeared inevitable.
 
 BOB BURKE'S DUEL WITH ENSlfJN BRADY. 359 
 
 "Just, however, as the process of loading; was completing, 
 tliere appeared on the ground my cousin Phil Purdon, rattling 
 in on his black mare as hard as he could lick. When he came 
 in sight he bawled out, — 
 
 " 'I want to speak to the plaintiff In this action — I mean, to 
 one of the parties in this duel. I want to speak to you, Bob 
 Burke.' 
 
 " ' The thing is impossible, sir,' said Major Mug. 
 
 " 'Perfectly impossible, sir,' said Captain Codd. 
 
 "'Possible or impossible is nothing to the (piestion,' shouted 
 Purdon ; ' Bob, I must speak to you.' 
 
 " ' It is contrary to all regulation,' said the Major. 
 
 "'Quite contrary,' said the Captain. 
 
 "Phil, however, persisted, and approached me. 'Are you 
 fighting about Dosy Mac V said he to me in a whisper. 
 
 "'Yes,' I replied. 
 
 " ' And she is to marry the survivor, I understand V 
 
 " ' So I am told,' said I. 
 
 " 'Back out. Bob, then ; back out, at the risk of a hunt. Old 
 Mick Macnamara is married.' 
 
 " ' Married !' I exclaimed. 
 
 " ' Poz,' said he. ' I drew the articles myself. He married 
 his housemaid, a girl of eighteen; and,' — here he Avhispered. 
 
 " ' What,' I cried, ' six months !' 
 
 " ' Six months,' said he, ' and no mistake.' 
 
 "'Ensign Brady,' said 1, immediately coming forward, 'there 
 
 has been a strange misconception in this business. I here de- 
 
 ,clare, in presence of this honourable company, that you have 
 
 acted throughout like a man of honour, and a gentleman ; and 
 
 you leave the ground without a stain on your character.' 
 
 " Brady hopped three feet off the ground with joy at the un- 
 expected deliverance. He forgot all etiquette, and came for- 
 ward to shake me by the hand. 
 
 " ' My dear Burke,' said he ' It must have been a mistake : 
 let us swear eternal friendship.' 
 
 " ' For ever,' said, ' I resign you Miss Theodosla.' 
 
 " ' You are too generous,' he said, ' but I cannot abuse your 
 generosity.'
 
 360 THE ODOHEUTY PAPERS. 
 
 " ' It is unprecedented conduct,' growled Major Mug. ■ I'll 
 never be second to a Pelcin again.' 
 
 " 'M>i principal leaves the ground witli honour,' said Captain 
 Codd, looking melanclioly nevertheless. 
 
 " ' Humph !' grunted "Wooden-leg "VVaddy, lighting his meer- 
 shaum. 
 
 " The crowd dispersed much displeased, and I fear my rep- 
 utation for valour did not rise among them. I went oft" with 
 Pardon to finish a jug at Carmichael's, and Brady swaggered off" 
 to Miss Dosy's. His renown for valour won her heart. It can- 
 not be denied that I sunk deeply in her opinion. On that very 
 evening Brady broke his love, and was accepted. Mrs. Mac. 
 opposed, but the red-coat prevailed. 
 
 " * He may rise to be a general,' said Dosy, ' and be a knight, 
 and then I will be Lady Brady.' 
 
 " ' Or if my father should be made an earl, angelic Theodosia, 
 you would be Lady Thady Brady,' said the ensign. 
 
 ''''Beautiful prospect!' cried Dosy; 'Lady Thady Brady! 
 What a harmonious sound !' 
 
 " But why dally over the detail of my unfortunate loves ? 
 Dosy and the ensign were married before tlie accident which 
 had befallen her uncle was discovered ; and, if they were not 
 happy, why, then you and I may. They have had eleven chil- 
 dren, and, I understand, he now keeps a comfortable eating- 
 house close by Cumberland basin in Bristol. Such was my duel 
 with ensign Brady of the 48th." 
 
 " Your fighting with Brady puts me in mind, that the finest 
 duel I ever saw," said Joe MacGillycuddy, " was between a 
 butcher and bulldog, in the Diamond of Derry." 
 
 " I am obliged to you for your comparison," said Burke, "but 
 I think it is now high time for dinner, and your beautiful story 
 will keep. Has any body the least idea where dinner is to be 
 raised V 
 
 To this no answer was returned, and we all began to reflect 
 wath the utmost intensity.
 
 DllINK. 361 
 
 Drink. 
 
 When Panurge ami liis fellows, ns Rub'lais will tell us,* 
 
 Set out on a sail to the ends of the earth, 
 Ami jollily cruising, carousing, and boozing. 
 
 To the oracle came in a full tide of mirth. 
 Pray what was its answer? come tell if you can, sir; 
 
 'Twas an answer most splendid and sage, as I think ; 
 For sans any delaying, it summ'd up hy saying, 
 
 The whole duty of man is one syllabic — " Drink." 
 
 bottle mirific ! advice beatific ! 
 
 A response more celestial sure never was linown; 
 
 1 speak for myself, I prefer it to Delphi, 
 
 Though Apollo himself on that rock fixed his throne; 
 The foplings of fashion may still talk their trash on, 
 
 And declare that the custom of toping should sink ; 
 A fig for such asses, I stick to my glasses, 
 
 And swear that no fashion shall stint me in driiik. 
 
 And now in full measure I toast you with pleasure, 
 The warrior — t 
 
 — the poet — t 
 
 — the statesman — § 
 — and sage ;'|| 
 Whose benign constellation illumines tlie nation, 
 And sheds lively lustre all over the ago ; 
 
 * See Rabelais' Pantagruel, Livre V. chap, xliv. After arriving at the ora- 
 cle of the holy bottle, and asking its advice, " de la sacree bouteille yssit ung 
 bruit tci que font les abeilles naissantes de la chair dung jeune taureau occiz 
 et accoustre scion I'art et invention d'Aristeus; ou tel que faict uneguarot des- 
 bandunt I'arbaleste, ou, on este, une forte pluye soubdainement tumblant. Lors 
 feut ouy ce mot, Trinq," which Bacbue the priestess' son interprets to be a 
 panomphean, signifying Drink. — C. N. [Mnginn was very fond of Rabelais, 
 and once said that he thought the stories he told in Pantagruel were repeated 
 in his early life to boon companions, and written down by him, in advanced 
 years, rather to amuse himself than for fame. He (Maginn) had found that all 
 the authoiities cited in the trial chamber were correct and genuine. He be- 
 lieved, also, that Shakspere must have been a close student of Rabelais, and 
 that the first scene in "The Tempest'" proved this; also, that Father .Tohn was 
 Rabelais' pet character, and that wiih which he took most pains. There was 
 no imitating Rabelais. — M.] 
 
 t Odoheriy. | Hogg. ^ Timulliv Tickler. || N,at!i 
 
 Vol. I.— 16
 
 362 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Liiiip, long- inny ils brigbtiicss, in glory and lightness, 
 Sliine clear as tlie tiay-stau on morning's sweet brink ! 
 
 May Uieir sway ne'er diminish ! and therefore I finish, 
 By proposing the health of (he four whom I drinlc* 
 
 Crnmbambnlee.+ 
 
 Ckambambulkf. .' — all the world over, 
 
 Thou'rt mother's milk to Germans true — Tra li ra. 
 
 No cure like thee can sage discover 
 
 For colic, love, or devils blue — Tra li la. 
 
 Blow liot or cold, from morn to night, 
 
 IMy dream is still my soul's delight, 
 
 Cram-bam-bim-bam-bu-Iee ! — Crambambulee ! 
 
 Hungry and chili'd with bivouacking, 
 t We rise ere song of earliest bird — Tra li ra. 
 
 Cannon and drums our ears are cracking, 
 And saddle, boot, and blade's the word — Tia li ra. 
 " Vite en I'avant," our bugle blows, 
 A flying gulp and off it goes, 
 Cram-bam-bim-bam-bu-lee ! — Crambambulee ! 
 
 Victoj-y's ours, off speed despatches, 
 
 Hourra ! The luck for once is mine — Tra li ra. 
 
 Food comes by ninrsels, sleep by snatches, 
 
 No time, by Jove, to wash or dine — Tra li ra. 
 
 From post to post my pipe I cram, 
 
 Full gallop smoke, and vfuck my dram. 
 
 Cram-bam-bim-bam-bu-lee ! — Crambambulee 
 
 When I'm the peer of kings and kaisers. 
 
 An order of my own I'll found — Tra li ra. 
 
 Down goes our gage to all despisers, 
 
 Our motto through the world shall sound — Tra li ra. 
 
 "Toujours fidele et sans souci, 
 
 C'est I'ordre de Crambambulee!" 
 
 Cram-bam-bim-bam-bu-lee ! — Ciambambulee ! 
 
 * From Blackwood for September, ISQ."), sang at The Noctes. — M. 
 t From Blackwood fm- December, 1805, s:uig nt The Noctks. — .M.
 
 TWEXTY-OXE JfAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 363 
 
 ®:o)cnt2-onc ilXaxims to iltarrg bji.* 
 
 "To be thus, is notliinn;; 
 But to be safely thus — !" 
 
 Shakspkkk. 
 
 I NEVER knew a good fellow, in all my life, tliat was not, 
 some way or other, the dupe of women. One man is an ass un- 
 consciously ; another, with his ej'es open : but all, that are good 
 for any thing, are saddled and bridled in some way, and at some 
 time or other. 
 
 If a good fellow drinks — your best perhaps Avon't drink very 
 much noAv — but, if lie does drink, ten to one, it is because he 
 is out of humour Avith some Avoman. If he Avrites, Avhat can 
 he write about, but woman 1 If he games, Avh}^ is it, but 
 to get money to lavish iipon hor ? For all his courage, ar- 
 dour, wit, vanity, good-temper, and all other good qualities that 
 he possesses, Avomau keeps an open market, and can engross them 
 AA^holly ! "Why, then, after \yq liaA'e abused Avomen — Avhich Ave 
 all of us do — and found out that they are no more to be trusted" 
 than fresh-caught monkeys — Avhich the best of us are very likely 
 to do ; — after all, Avhat does it come to but this — that they are 
 the devil's plagues of our lives — and avc must have them ? 
 
 For, if you are " five-and-tAventy, or thereabouts," and good 
 for any thing, you'll certainly become attaclied to some Avoman ; 
 and — you'll find I'm right, so take AA-^arning in time — depend 
 upon it, it had better be to an honest one. It's Cockney taste, 
 lads, nasty, paltry, Bond-street stuff — to be seen driving about 
 in a cabriolet Avith the mistress of half the toAvn. And, for the 
 attachment, ncA'-er flatter yourselves that you are certain to get 
 " tired" of any Avoman Avith Avhom you constantly associate. 
 Depend upon it, you are a great deal more likely to become 
 very inextricably fond of her. Kick it all out of doors, the stale 
 trash, that men are natitrally " indifferent" to their wives. IIow 
 
 * The Maxims to Many by, which contnin e-nnd sonsp, close observation, nnd 
 sliarp truth, nppeared in Blackvood for May, 1826. They were particularly 
 " Aihhessrd to i.iii?lc frrutlenjeii.' — M.
 
 364 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 the deuce should a fine woman be the worse for being one's 
 wife? And are there not five hundred good reasons — to every 
 body but a puppy — why she must be the better? Then, as 
 you must all of you be martyred, suffer in respectable con>pany. 
 Marry! boys — it's a danger; but, though it is a danger, it is 
 the best. It is a danger! I always feel thankful when a man 
 is hanged for killing his wife ; because I should not choose to 
 kill a wife of my own — and yet the crying of the "dying 
 speech" — "for the barbarous and inhuman murder !" &c. &c. — 
 is a sort of warning to her — as one rat, losing his tail in the rat- 
 trap, frightens the whole granary-full that are left. But, though 
 marriage is a danger, nevertheless, hazard it. Between evils, 
 boys! — you know the proverb ? — choose the least. Marry, I 
 say, all and each of you ! Take wives ; and take them in good 
 time, that " your names may be long in the land." And then, 
 seeing that you could, one and all of you, have wives — comes 
 the question, how you should go about to get them ? 
 
 Then, in the first place, I shall assume, that he who reads this 
 paper and marries, marries for a wife. Because, if he Avants a 
 " fortune" to boot, or a " place," or to be allied (being plebeian) 
 to a "titled family," the case is out of my metier ; he had bet- 
 ter apply to an attorney at once. Don't make these things in- 
 dispensable, any of yow, if you can help it. For the fortune, a 
 hundred to one — when you get it — if it does not oter-ride you 
 Avith " settlements," and " trirsts," and whole oceans of that sort 
 of impertinence, which every proper man should keep clear of. 
 No woman ought to be ahle to hold property independent of her 
 husband. And, if that is not the law, all I can say is, that it 
 ought to be so. Then, for the " Place — it's very well to have 
 a place, where you can get one — but it must be the very devil 
 to have the donor eternally, all your life afterwards, reminding 
 you how you came by it. And, for the " Titled family," why, 
 shut the book this minute, and don't have the impudence to read 
 another line that I write, if you wouldn't quoit a brother-in-law 
 that was " right honourable," with one impetus from Charing- 
 Cross to Whitechapel, just as soon as a kinsman that was a clerk 
 in the Victualling-office — provided he deserved it, or you took 
 it into your head that it was convenient to do it ! Besides, a
 
 TWENTY-ONE MAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 365 
 
 nice woman is worth all the money in the Bank. What would 
 would you do with it, after you had it, but give it all for one 1 
 Please your taste, my children ; and so that you get an honest 
 woman, and a pleasing one, to the devil send the remainder. 
 And then to guide your choice, take the following maxims : 
 Those who have brains, will perceive their value at a glance; 
 and such as are thick-headed can read them three or four times 
 over. And let sixch not be too hastily disheartened ; for it is 
 part of wit ; (and of this Magazine,) to bear with dulness ; and 
 one comfort is, when yon have at least beaten anything into a 
 skull of density, the very devil himself can hardly ever get it 
 out again. " We write on brass," as somebody or other observes, 
 and somewhere, " less easily than in water ; but the impression, 
 once made, endures for ever." 
 
 iiHavim iFivst. 
 
 Now, in making marriage, as in making love — and indeed in 
 making most other things — the beginning it is that is the diffi- 
 culty. But the French proverb about beginnings — " C'est le 
 premier pas qui route' — goes more literally to the arrangement 
 of marriage ; as our English well illustrates the condition of 
 love, — " The first step over, the rest is easy." Because, in the 
 marrying affair, it is particularly, the " first step" that " costs" 
 
 — as to your cost you will find, if that step happens to go the 
 wrong way. And most men, Avhen they go about the business 
 of wedlock, owing to some strange delusion, begin the affair at 
 the Avrong end. They take a fancy to the white arms — (some- 
 times only to the kid gloves) — or to the neat ancles of a pecu- 
 liar school girl ; and conclude, from these premises, that she is 
 just the very woman of the Avorld to scold a houseful of servants, 
 and to bring up a dozen children ! This is a convenient deduc- 
 tion, but not always a safe one. Pleasant — like Dr. Macul- 
 loch's deductions in his Political Economy — but generally wrong. 
 " Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling of silk, betray 
 thy poor heart," as Shakspere says, &c. &c. " to woman !" 
 
 — Implying thereby, that red sashes and lace flounces are but 
 as things transitory ; and that she who puts ornaments of gold 
 and silver upon her own head, may be a " crown to her husband"
 
 ii6Q THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 — and yet not exactly sucli a " crown" as King Solomon meant 
 a virtuous woman should be. He that has ears to hear — (while 
 he has nothing worse than ears) — let him hear! A word to 
 the wise should be enough. — There are some particular qualities 
 now and then very likely to lead a gentleman on the sudden to 
 make a lady his wife ; and, after she has become so, very likely 
 again to make him wish that they had made her anybody 
 else's. 
 
 ^ajrim Srconli. 
 
 White arms, and neat ancles, bring me, naturally, at once, to 
 the very important consideration of beauty. For, don't suppose, 
 because I caution you against all day dishabilles, that I want to 
 fix you with a worthy creature, whom it will make you ex- 
 tremely ill every time you look at. No ! leave these to apothe- 
 caries — lawyers — and such, generally, as mean to leave money 
 behind them when they die. You have health — a competence 
 
 — a handy pull at a nose, or at a trigger: — let them grovel. 
 For the style of attraction, please yourselves, my friends. I 
 should say a handsome figure — if you don't get both advan- 
 tages — is better than a merely pretty face, I don't mean, by 
 •' handsome figure," forty cubits high, and as big round as the 
 chief drayman at Meux's brew-house. But finely formed and 
 set. Good eyes are a point never to be ovei'looked. Fine teeth. 
 — full, well-proportioned limbs — don't cast these away for the 
 sake of a single touch of the smallpox ; a mouth something too 
 wide ; or dimples rather deeper on one side than the other. 
 
 It may, at some time, be a matter of consideration, whether 
 you shall marry a maid or a widow. As to the taste, I myself 
 will give no opinion — I like both ; and there are advantages 
 and disadvantages peculiar to either. If you marry a Avidow, I 
 think it should be one Avhom you have known in the lifetime of 
 her husband; because, then — ah actu ad posse — from the suf- 
 ferings of the defunct, you may form some notion of what your 
 own will be. If her husband is dead before you see her, you 
 had better be off at once ; because she knows (the jade !) what
 
 TWENTY-ONE MAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 367 
 
 you will like, thougli slie never means to do it ; and, depend 
 upon it, if you have only an inch of pc/ir/ia?it, and trust your- 
 self to look at her three times, you are tickled to a certaiuty. 
 
 ittavim JJ^ouitJj. 
 
 Marrying girls is a nice matter always ; for they are as cau- 
 tious as crows plundering a corn-field. You may *' stalk" for a 
 week, and never get near them unperceived. You hear the 
 caterwauling, as you go up stairs, into the drawing-room, louder 
 than thunder; but it stops — as if by magic! the moment a 
 (marriageable) man puts his ear to the keyhole. I don't my- 
 self, I profess, upon principle, see any objection to marrying a 
 widow. If she upbraids you at any time with the virtues of 
 her former husband, you only reply — that you wish he had her 
 with him, with all yoiir soul. If a woman, however, has had 
 more than three husbands, she poisons them ; avoid her. 
 
 ftlavim iFiftf). 
 
 In widow-wiving, it may be a question whether you should 
 marry the widow of an honest man, or of a rascal. Against the 
 danger, that the last have learned ill tricks, they set the advan- 
 tage — she will be more sensible (from the contrast) to the kind- 
 ness of a gentleman and a man of honour. I think you should 
 marry the honest man's widow; because, with women, habit is 
 always stronger than reason. 
 
 But the greatest point, perhaps, to be aimed at in marrying, 
 is to know, before marriage, what it is that you have to deal 
 with. You are quite sure to know this, fast enough, afterwards. 
 Be sixre, therefore, that you commence the necessary perquisi- 
 tions before you have made up your mind, and not as people 
 generally do, offer. Remember there is no use in watching a 
 woman that you Jove ; because she can't do anything — do what 
 she will — that will be disagreeable to you. And still less, in 
 examining a woman that loves you ; because for the time, she 
 will be quite sure not to do anything that ought to be disagree- 
 able to you. I have known a hundred perfect tigresses as play-
 
 368 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 fill as kittens — quite more obliging than need be — under such 
 circumstances. It is not a bad way — maid or widow — when 
 you find yourself fancying a woman, to make her believe that 
 you have an aversion to her. If she has any concealed good 
 qualities, they are pretty sure to come out upon such an oc- 
 casion. 
 
 N.B. Take care, nevertheless, how you make use of this sug- 
 gestion ; because, right or wrong, it is the very way to make 
 the poor soul fall furiously and fatally in love with you. VitJ- 
 nns edit vcnis, et cceco carjnfur igni ! 
 
 ittap'm StbentI). 
 
 In judging wJiere to look for a wife — that is, for the lady who 
 is to form the " raAV material" of one — very great caution is 
 necessary. And you can't take any thing better with you, in 
 looking about, as a general principle, than that good mothers 
 commonly make tolerably good daiighters. Of course, there- 
 fore, you Avon't go, of consideration prepense, into any house 
 Avhere parents are badly connected, or have been badly conduct- 
 ed. Nor, \ipon any account at all, into any house where you 
 don't quite feel, that if you don't conduct yourself properly, 
 you'll immediately be kicked out of it. This assurance may be 
 troublesome while you are only a visitor ; but when you come 
 to be one of the family, you'll find it mighty convenient. If you 
 can find any place where vice and folly have been used to be 
 called by their right names, stick to that by all means — there 
 are seldom more than two such in one parish ; and if you see 
 any common rascal let into a house M'here you visit as readily as 
 yourself, go oiit of it immediately. 
 
 iHavini Si'ijfjtJ). 
 
 Mind — but I need hardly caution you of this, — that you are 
 not taken in with that paltry, bygone nonsense about — " If you 
 marry — marrying a fool." Recollect that the greatest fool 
 must be sometimes out of your sight ; and that she will yet 
 carry you (for all purposes of mischief) along with her. A shrewJi 
 may want her nails kept short ; but if you keep a strait waist- 
 coat in the house, you may always do this yourself. And she is
 
 TWENTY-ONE MAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 369 
 
 not, of necessity, like your " lilcating innocent," a prey to the 
 first wolf who chooses to devour her, 
 
 ittnvim Niiitf). 
 
 At the same time, while you avoid a fool, fly — as you fly 
 from sin and death — fly from a philosopher [ It is very dan- 
 gerous to weak minds, examining (farther than is duly delivered 
 to. them) what is right or wrong. — I never found any hody yet 
 who could distinctly explain what murder is, if put to a defi- 
 nition. 
 
 All who find their minds superior to common rule and received 
 opinion ; value themselves on original thinking ; talk politics ; 
 read Mary Wolstonecraft ; or meddle with the mathematics : 
 these are unclean hirds upon whom the protecting genius of 
 honest men has set his mark that all may know ; and pray do 
 you avoid them. 
 
 ilHaviin STeutl). 
 
 If you marry an actress, don't let her he a tragedy one. 
 Hahits of ranting and whisking up and doAvn with a long train 
 before a row of " footlamps," are apt to cast an undue ludicrous- 
 ness (when transplanted) over the serious business of life. Only 
 imagine a castigation delivered to the cook, in " King Cambyses' 
 vein," upon the event of an imderdone leg of mutton at dinner ; 
 or an incarnation of Helen M'Gregor, ordering the cat to be 
 thrown alive into the cistern, if a piece of mufiin was abstracted, 
 without leave, at breakfast ! 
 
 iftSaviiu Hlcbcntj). 
 
 If you do marry an actress, the singing girls perhaps are best ; 
 Miss Paton, I think, seems very soft, and coaxing, and desirable. 
 I myself should prefer Kitty Stephens to any of them.* Though 
 she is a sad lazy slut — won't learn a line, and sleeps all day 
 upon the sofa ! But I'm a teacher ; and therefore the less I 
 parade my own practice — at least so the belief goes — the better. 
 
 * Miss Paton, well known in America as INIrs. Joseph Wood. Wiss Ste- 
 phens, by her mairiage with an aged peer (now dead) is Downgor-Countess 
 of Essex.— M. 
 
 16*
 
 370 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 Be sure, Avherever you clioose, choose a proud woman. All 
 honesty is a kind of pride ; or at least three-fourths of it. No 
 people do wrong, but in spite of themselves they feel a certain 
 quantity of descent and self-degradation : the more a woman 
 has to forfeit, the less likely she is to forfeit anything at all. 
 Take the pride, although you have the virtue ; the more indorse- 
 ments you get, even on a good bill, the better. 
 
 i^avi"! STijivtcentf). 
 
 I don't think the Saints — after all is said and done — are the 
 worst people in the world to match among. Nine-tenths of the 
 mischief that Avomen do arise less from ill design than from idle, 
 careless, vagabond IcA'ity. It falls out commonly among the 
 great card-players, and play-hunters ; very little among the 
 Methodists and Presbyterians. Of course, you won't contract 
 for anything beyond going to church three times a-day ; and 
 such like public professions of faith and feeling. But for the 
 rest, I don't see why you should embarrass yourself about any 
 system of belief, so long as it offends only against reason, and 
 tends to the believer's temporal advantage. 
 
 iWajrfm ifourtecnti). 
 
 At the same time, after the last sentence of the above exhorta- 
 tion, I need hardly tell you that you must not marry a Roman 
 Catholic. Indeed I suppose it would be a little too much for any of 
 you, who read me, to fancy a pleasant gentleman claiming the 
 right to catechise your wives in private ? For my part, God help 
 any rascal who presumed to talk of laAV, Imman or divine, in my 
 family j except the law, which, like Jack Cade's law, came " out 
 of my mouth!" I know something of these matters, having 
 once contemplated being a monk myself — in fact, I had stolen 
 a dress for the purpose. On the same principle — I rather think 
 I mentioned this before — suffer no " guardianships," or " trustee- 
 ships," in your family, to disturb your reign, or fret your quiet. 
 I knew a a ery worthy fellow, who, having only a marriage set- 
 tlement brought to him, broke the solicitor's clerk's neck down 
 stairs that brought it ; and it Avas brought in " Justifiable Homi-
 
 • TWENTY-ONE MAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 371 
 
 cide." If a clog tlarcs but to hint that there is such a thing as 
 "parchment" in your presence, plump, and rib him. 
 
 ittaviin ififtecntj). 
 
 I don't think, by the way, that there oug/it to be any parch- 
 ment, except the petitions to the House of Commons, Avhich are 
 cut up to sujiply the tailors with measures. This is iisefnl. 
 Messrs. Sheil and O'Connell's work takes the dimensions of my 
 person once a month very accurately. I mention this, because 
 it has been said that no measures, in which the work of those 
 gentlemen was concerned, ever could be taken accurately. 
 
 i^Jayim Sivtecntij. 
 
 Talking of accuracy leads me to observe : — Don't marry any 
 woman hastily at Brighton or Brussels, without knowing Avho 
 she is and where she lived before she came there. And when- 
 ever you get a reference upon this, or any other subject, always 
 be sure and get another reference about the person referred to. 
 
 fHaviiu ,Sc\)eutccixt{). 
 
 Don't marry any woman under twenty — she is not come to 
 her wickedness before that time. Nor any woman who has a 
 red nose at any age ; because people make observations as you 
 go along the street. A "cast of the eye," — as the lady casts 
 it upon you — may pass muster under some circumstances — • 
 and I have even known those who thought it desirable ; but 
 absolute squinting is a monopoly of vision Avhich ouglit not to be 
 tolerated. 
 
 iJHnvim iliflttfcntt). 
 
 Talking of " vision," reminds me of an absurd saying, — That 
 such or such a one can " see as far through a mill-stone as those 
 that picked it." I don't believe that any man ever saw through 
 a mill-stone but Jeremy Bentham ; and he looked through the hole. 
 
 ifHavim Xinctecntf). 
 
 One hears a great deal about " City taste ;" I must say, I 
 don't think an Alderman's daughter by any means (qiia Corn-
 
 372 THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 hill merely) objectionable. A fine girl may be charming, even 
 though her father shonld be a Common Councilman — Recollect 
 this. 
 
 iWavim STtocutictl). 
 
 On the question of getting an insight into matters before mar- 
 riage, if possible, I have dropped a word already. It is a point 
 of very great importance, and there are two or three modes in 
 which yon may take your chance for accomplishing it. If you 
 are vp to hiring yourself into any house as a chambermaid — it 
 requires tact, and close shaving ; but it would put you into the 
 way of finding out a thing or two. I " took up my livery" once 
 as a footman, and I protest I learned so much in three Aveeks, 
 that I would not have married any female in the family. An 
 old maiden aunt, or sister, if you have one, is capable of great 
 service. She will see more of a tomboy in five minutes than 
 you would in six months ; because, having been in the oven her- 
 self, she knows the Avay. On the other hand, there is the dan- 
 ger that she may sell you to some estate that she thinks lies 
 convenient ; or even job you off to some personal favourite, 
 without the consideration of any estate at all. The Punic faith 
 of all agents — especially one's own relatives — is notorious. 
 
 if^Saviin 2rtocnti)=ft'vst. 
 
 On the subject of accomplishment, it is hardly my business 
 to advise. I leave a great part — the chief part — upon this 
 point, to your own fancy. Only don't have any waltzing, nor 
 too much determined singing of Moore's songs ; there is bad 
 taste, to say the best of it, in all such publicities. For music, I 
 don't think there is a great deal gained by a woman's being able 
 to make an alarming jangle on the piano-forte, particularly un- 
 der that unmerciful scheme of " Diiets," in which two tyrants 
 are enabled to belabour the machine at the same time. Dancing, 
 a girl ought to be able to execute well ; but don't go anywhere, 
 where a Monsiem- has been employed to give the instruction. 
 As dancing is an art to be acquired merely from imitation, a 
 graceful female — being the precise thing to be imitated — must 
 he a far more efficient teacher than even ]\Ir. Kick-the-Moon
 
 TWENTY-ONE MAXIMS TO MARRY BY. 373 
 
 himself can be. Besides, I don't like tlie notion of a d — d scra- 
 per joutting a girl of tliirteen into attitudes. If I were to catch 
 a balletmaster capering in my house, I'd qualify the dog to lead 
 in the opera before he departed. 
 
 N. B. — Now we ai'c on the subject of dancing, don't on any 
 account marry a " lively" young lady. That is, in other words, 
 a " romp." That is, in other words, a woman who has been 
 hauled about by half your acquaintance. 
 
 And now, my friends, my first twenty-one rules — just begin- 
 ning your instruction, each of you, how to get a wife — are 
 spoken out. And any directions how to manage one, if they 
 come at all, must come at some future opportunity. Just two 
 Avords, however, even upon this head ; for I would not leave 
 you, upon any subject, too much unprovided. 
 
 In the first place, on the very day after your marriage, when- 
 ever you do marry, take one precaution — be cursed with no 
 more troubles for life than you have bargained for. Call the 
 roll of all your wife's even speaking acquaintance ; and strike 
 out every soul that you have — or fancy you. ought to have — 
 or fancy you ever shall have — a glimpse of dislike to. 
 
 Upon this point be merciless; your wife won't hesitate — a 
 luindred to one — between a husband and a gossip; and — if 
 she does — don't you. Be particularly sharp upon the list of 
 women ; of course, men — you Avould frankly kick any one from 
 Pall-Mall to Pimlico, who presumed only to recollect ever hav- 
 ing seen her. 
 
 And don't be manoeuvred out of what you mean, by cards, or 
 morning calls, or any notion of what people call " good breed- 
 ing." Do you be content to show your ill breeding by shutting 
 the door, and the visitors can show their good breeding by not 
 coming again. 
 
 One syllable more to part — if you Avish to be happy yourself, 
 be sure that you must make your wife so. Never dispute with 
 her where the question is of no importance ; nor, where it is'of 
 the least con.sequence, let any earthly consideration ever once 
 induce you to give way. Be at home as much as you can ; be 
 as strict as you Avill, but never speak unkindly ; and ncA'er have
 
 374 ■ THE ODOHERTY PAPERS. 
 
 a fVieiul upon sucli terras in your house, as to be able to enter 
 it without ceremony. Above all, remember that these maxims 
 are intrusted to all of you, as to persons of reason and discre- 
 tion. A naked sword only cuts the fingers of a madman ; and 
 the rudder with which the pilot saves the ship, in the hands of 
 the powder monkey, would only probably force her upon the 
 rocks. . Recollect, that your inquest as to matrimony is a matter 
 of the greatest nicety ; because, either an excess of vigilance, 
 or a deficiency, will alike compromise its success. If you don't 
 question far enough, the odds are ten to one that you get a wife 
 who will disappoint you. If you question a jot too far, you will 
 never get a wife at all. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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