But I can't conceive how, in this very cold wea- So, get me a Russian-till death I'm your debtor If he brings the whole alphabet, so much the better And-Lord! if he would but, in character, sup Off his fish-oil and candles, he'd quite set me up! Au revoir, my sweet girl-I must leave you in haste Little GUNTER has brought me the Liqueurs to taste. POSTSCRIPT. By the bye, have you found any friend that can That Latin account, t'other day, of a Monster ?* LETTER VI. FROM ABDALLAH, IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, Dost daily bend thy loyal brow And but left on till further orders! I saunter on the admiration Of this short-coated population Who while they boast their laws so free, But live, with all their lordly speeches, * Alluding, I suppose, to the Latin Advertisement of a Lusus Naturæ in the Newspapers lately. + I have made many inquiries about this Persian gentleman, but cannot satisfactorily ascertain who he is. Or, whether Lord G-RGE (the young man about From his notions of Religious Liberty, however, I contown) clude that he is an importation of Ministers; and he Has, by dint of bad poetry, written them down-has arrived just in time to assist the PE and Mr. But, in short, my dear, names like WINTZ TSCHITSTOPSCHINZOUDHOFF L-CK-E in their new Oriental Plan of Reform.-See the second of these Letters.-How Abdallah's epistle to Ispahan found its way into the Twopenny Post Bag is more than I can pretend to account for. "C'est un honnête homme," said a Turkish governor of de Ruyter; "c'est grand dommage qu'il soit Chrétien." Sunnites and Shiites are the two leading sects into which the Mahometan world is divided; and they have Are the only things now make an evening go gone on cursing and persecuting each other, without smooth off any intermission, for about eleven hundred years. The Or longs to flog*-'tis true, they pray To wear th' establish'd pea-green slippers!§ And (what's the worst, though last I rank it) Yet, spite of tenets so flagitious Green slippers, but from treasonous views; Take it, when night begins to fall, And throw it o'er her mother's wall. GAZEL. Rememberest thou the hour we past? How can we live, so far apart? PER POST, Sir, we send your MS.-look'd it thro' And twitch their beards, where'er they meet 'em. Very sorry-but can't undertake-'twouldn't do. As to the rest, they're free to do Whate'er their fancy prompts them to, Provided they make nothing of it Tow'rds rank or honour, power or profit; Which things, we naturally expect, Belong to us, the Establish'd sect, Who disbelieve (the Lord be thanked!) Th' aforesaid Chapter of the Blanket. The same mild views of Toleration, Inspire, I find, this button'd nation, Whose Papists (full as given to rogue, And only Sunnites with a brogue) Fare just as well, with all their fuss, As rascal Sunnites do with us. The tender Gazel I inclose Sunni is the established sect in Turkey, and the Shia in Persia; and the difference between them turn chiefly upon those important points, which our pious friend Abdallah, in the true spirit of Shiite Ascendancy, reprobates in this Letter. *"Les Sunnites, qui étaient comme les catholiques de Musulmanisme."-D' Herbelot. "In contradistinction to the Sounis, who in their prayers cross their hands on the lower part of the breast, the Schiahs drop their arms in straight lines; and as the Sounis, at certain periods of the prayer, press their foreheads on the ground or carpet, the Schiahs," etc. etc.-Foster's Voyage. Clever work, Sir!-would get up prodigiously well Its only defect is-it never would sell! And though Statesmen may glory in being un bought, In an Author, we think, Sir, that's rather a fault. Hard times, Sir-most books are too dear to be read Though the gold of Good-sense and Wit's smallchange are fled, Yet the paper we publishers pass, in their stead, Rises higher each day, and ('tis frightful to think it) Not even such names as F-TZG-R-D's can sink it! However, Sir-if you're for trying again, men. Since the Chevalier C-RR took to marrying lately, The Trade is in want of a Traveller greatlyNo job, Sir, more easy-your Country once plann'd, A month aboard ship and a fortnight on land Puts your Quarto of Travels clean out of hand. An East-India pamphlet's a thing that would tellAnd a lick at the Papists is sure to sell well. *This will appear strange to an English reader, but it is literally translated from Abdallah's Persian, and the curious bird to which he alludes is the Juftak, of which I find the following account in Richardson." A sort of bird that is said to have but one wing, on the opposite "Les Turcs ne détestent pas Ali réciproquement; au contraire ils le reconnaissent," etc. etc.-Chardin. "The Shiites wear green slippers, which the Sun-side to which the male has a hook and the female a nites consider as a great abomination.”—Mariti. For these points of difference, as well as for the Chapter of the Blanket, I must refer the reader (not Daving the book by me) to Picart's Account of the Manometan Sects. ring, so that, when they fly, they are fastened together." +From motives of delicacy, and, indeed, of fellowfeeling, I suppress the name of the Author, whose rejected manuscript was inclosed in this letter. Or-supposing you have nothing original in you— Write Parodies, Sir, and such fame it will win you, You'll get to the Blue-stocking routs of ALB-N-A.* (Mind-not to her dinners-a second-hand Muse Mustn't think of aspiring to mess with the Blues.) Or-in case nothing else in this world you can do The deuce is in't, Sir, if you cannot review! Should you feel any touch of poetical glow, We've a scheme to suggest-Mr. Sc-TT, you must know (Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the Having quitted the Borders to seek new renown, Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way. Bring thy best lace, thou gay Philander! For that night only, means to hire Thou know'st the time, thou man of lore' To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet It takes to dance that chalk away.t coaches The Ball-room opens-far and nigh O'er snowy moons and stars we walk, May do a few Villas before Sc-TT approaches-And the floor seems a sky of chalk! Such, Sir, is our plan-if you're up to the freak, At present, no more-in reply to this Letter, Temple of the Muses. Your's et cetera. LETTER VIII. FROM COLONEL TH-M-S TO COME to our Fête, and bring with thee a But soon shall fade the bright deceit, And suns grow dim beneath their tread! But, hang this long digressive flight! I meant to say, thou'lt see, that night, Thy newest, best embroidery! Oh! come-(if haply 'tis thy week * This alludes, I believe, to a curious correspondence, which is said to have passed lately between ALB-N-A, Countess of B-CK-GH-MS-E, and a certain ingenious Parodist. + Paternoster Row. And every floor, that night, shall tell Hearts are not flint, yet flints are rent. Hearts are not steel, but steel is bent. After all, however, Mr. Sc-tt may well say to the This Letter inclosed a Card for the Grand Fête on Colonel (and, indeed, to much better wags than the the 5th of February. | Colonel, ραον μωμείσθαι η μιμείσθαι. And still comest off, whate'er thy faults, Nor need'st thou mourn the transient date This festive Fête, in fact, will be The same long Masquerade of Rooms, The same bright river 'mongst the dishes, Fish of that specie now-a-days,) Some sprats have been, by Y-RM-TH'S wish, And Gudgeons (so V-NS-TT-T told So, pr'ythee, come-our Fête will be But half a Fête, if wanting thee! IRISH MELODIES. GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE. AIR-Maid of the Valley. Go where glory waits thee, Oh! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is sweetest, Oh! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends caress thee, All the joys that bless thee Sweeter far may be; But when friends are nearest, And when joys are dearest, Oh! then remember me. "C-rl-t-n II-e will exhibit a complete facsimile, in respect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Fête. The same splendid draperies," etc. etc.-Morning Post. The salt-cellars on the P-E's own table were in the form of an Ass with panniers. When at eve thou rovest Oh! thus remember me. Once so loved by thee- Oh! then remember me. When, around thee dying, Oh! then remember me. And, at night, when gazing On the gay hearth blazing, Oh! still remember me. Then should music, stealing All the soul of feeling, To thy heart appealing, Draw one tear from thee; Then let memory bring thee Strains I used to sing thee Oh! then remember me. OH! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME. AIR-The Brown Maid. OH! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid: Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head! But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps ; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls. THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS. AIR-Gramachree. THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more! No more to chiefs and ladies bright Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, The only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she lives! FLY NOT YET. AIR-Planxty Kelly. FLY not yet, 'tis just the hour And maids who love the moon! Fly not yet, the fount that play'd In times of old through Ammon's shade,* To burn when night was near: When did morning ever break, "Sir Knight, I feel not the least alarm, On she went, and her maiden smile THE MEETING OF THE WATERS.* AIR-The Old Head of Denis. THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh! the last ray of feeling and life must depart,t Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene 'Twas that friends the beloved of my bosom were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms of nature im prove, When we see them reflected from looks that we love. Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best, RICH AND RARE WERE THE GEMS Where the storms that we feel in this cold world * Solis Fons, near the temple of Ammon. This ballad is founded upon the following anecdote: "The people were inspired with such a spirit of honour, virtue, and religion, by the great example of Brien, and by his excellent administration, that, as a proof of it, we are informed that a young lady of great beauty, adorned with jewels and a costly dress, undertook a journey alone from one end of the kingdom to the other, with a wand only in her hand, at the top of which was a ring of exceeding great value; and such an impression had the laws and government of this Monarch made on the minds of all the people, that no attempt was made upon her honour, nor was she robbed of her clothes or jewels."-Warner's History of Ireland, vol. i. book 10. should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace. THE LEGACY. AIR-Unknown. WHEN in death I shall calm recline, To sully a heart so brilliant and light; When the light of my song is o'er, Then take my harp to your ancient hall; "The Meeting of the Waters" forms a part of that beautiful scenery which lies between Rathdrum and Arklow, in the county of Wicklow, and these lines were suggested by a visit to this romantic spot, in the summer of 1807. The rivers of Avon and Avoca |