Descend on our B-tt-rw-rth's biblical head,
Thrice-Great, Bibliopolist, Saint, and M.P.!

Come, shade of Joanna, come down from thy sphere,
And bring little Shiloh-if 'tisn't too far-
Such a sight will to B-tt-rw-rth's bosom be dear,
His conceptions and thine being much on a par.

Nor blush, Saint Joanna, once more to behold
A world thou hast honoured by cheating so many
Thou'lt find still among us one Personage old,

Who also by tricks and the Seals1 inakes a penny.

Thou, too, of the Shakers, divine Mother Lee !2
Thy smiles to beatified B-tt-rw-rth deign;
Two lights of the Gentiles' art thou, Anne, and he,
One hallowing Fleet Street, and t'other Toad Lane !3

The heathen, we know, made their gods out of wood,
And saints, too, are framed of as handy materials ;—
Old women and B-tt-rw-rths make just as good
As any the Pope ever booked, as Ethereals.

Stand forth, Man of Bibles-not Mahomet's pigeon,

When, perched on the Koran, he dropped there, they say,
Strong marks of his faith, ever shed o'er religion
Such glory as B-tt-rw-rth sheds every day.

Great Galen of souls, with what vigour he crams

Down Erin's idolatrous throats, till they crack again,

Bolus on bolus, good man!-and then damns

Both their stomachs and souls, if they dare cast them back again.

Ah, well might his shop-as a type representing
The creed of himself and his sanctified clan-
On its counter exhibit the Art of Tormenting,'

Bound neatly, and lettered Whole Duty of Man.'

As to politics-there, too, so strong his digestion,

Having learned from the law-books, by which he's surrounded,
To cull all that's worst on all sides of the question,
His black dose of politics thus is compounded—

The rinsing of any old Tory's dull noddle,

Made radical-hot, and then mixed with some grains
Of that gritty Scotch gabble, that virulent twaddle,
Which Murray's New Series of Blackwood contains.

A great part of the income of Joanna Southcott arose from the Seals of the Lord's protection which she sold to her followers.

2 Mrs. Anne Lee, the chosen vessel' of the Shakers, and 'Mother of all the children of regeneration.'

s Toad Lane in Manchester, where Mother Lee was born. In her Address to Young Believers, she says that it is a matter of no importance with them from whence the means of their deliverance come, whether from a stable in Bethlehem, or from Toad Lane, Manchester.'

Canonize him!-by Judas, we will canonize him;
For Cant is his hobby and twaddling his bliss.
And though wise men may pity and wits may despise him,
He'll make but the better shop-saint for all this.

Call quickly together the whole tribe of canters,
Convoke all the serious Tag-rag_of the nation;
Bring Shakers and Snufflers and Jumpers and Ranters,
To witness their B-tt-rw-rth's Canonization !

Yea, humbly I've ventured his merits to paint,
Yea, feebly have tried all his gifts to portray;
And they form a sum-total for making a saint,
That the Devil's own Advocate could not gainsay.

Jump high, all ye Jumpers! ye Ranters, all roar !
While B-tt-rw-rth's spirit, sublimed from your eyes,
Like a kite made of foolscap, in glory shall soar,
With a long tail of rubbish behind, to the skies!

NEW CREATION OF PEERS.

BATCH THE FIRST.

'His 'prentice han'

He tried on man,

And then he made the lasses.

'AND now,' quoth the minister (eased of his panics,
And ripe for each pastime the summer affords),
Having had our full swing at destroying mechanics,
By way of set-off, let us make a few Lords.

'Tis pleasant-while nothing but mercantile fractures, Some simple, some compound, is dinned in our earsTo think that, though robbed of all coarse manufactures, We still keep our fine manufacture of Peers ;—

'Those Gobelin productions, which Kings take a pride
In engrossing the whole fabrication and trade of;
Choice tapestry things, very grand on one side,
But showing on t'other what "ags they are made of.'

The plan being fixed, raw material was sought,
No matter how middling, so Tory the creed be:

And first-to begin with-Squire W-rt-y, 'twas thought,
For a Lord was as raw a material as need be.

Next came, with his penchant for painting and pelf,
The tasteful Sir Ch-rl-s, so renowned, far and near,

For purchasing pictures, and selling himself,-
And both (as the public well knows) very dear.

Beside him come L-c-st-r, with equal éclât, in ;-
Stand forth, chosen pair, while for titles we measure ye;
Both connoisseur baronets, both fond of drawing,

Sir John after nature, Sir Charles on the Treasury.

But, bless us !-behold a new candidate come-
In his hand he upholds a prescription, new written;
He poiseth a pill-box 'twixt finger and thumb,

And he asketh a seat 'mong the Peers of Great Britain!

Forbid it,' cried Jenky, 'ye Viscounts, ye Earls!
Oh Rank, how thy glories would fall disenchanted,
If coronets glistened with pills 'stead of pearls,

And the strawberry-leaves were by rhubarb supplanted !
'No-ask it not, ask it not, dear Doctor H-lf-rd-
If nought but a Peerage can gladden thy life,
And if young Master H-lf-rd as yet is too small for't,
Sweet Doctor, we'll make a she Peer of thy wife.

Next to bearing a coronet on our own brows,

Is to bask in its light from the brows of another;
And grandeur o'er thee shall reflect from thy spouse,
As o'er Vesey Fitzgerald 'twill shine through his mother.'1
Thus ended the First Batch-and Jenky, much tired,
(It being no joke to make Lords by the heap),
Took a large dram of ether-the same that inspired
His speech against Papists-and prosed off to sleep.

Choose between them, Cambridge, pray;
Which is weakest, Cambridge, say.
Each a different mode pursues,

Each the same conclusion reaches;
B-nkes is foolish in Reviews,

G-lb-rn foolish in his speeches. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray; Which is weakest, Cambridge, say. Each a different foe doth damn,

When his own affairs have gone ill;
B-nkes he damneth Buckingham,

G-lb-ru damneth Dan O'Connell.
Choose between them, Cambridge, pray;
Which is weakest, Cambridge, say.
B-nkes, accustomed much to roam,

Plays with Truth a traveller's pranks;
G-lb-rn, though he stays at home,
Travels thus as much as B-nkes.

1 Among the persons mentioned as likely to be raised to the Peerage are the mother of Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, etc.

Choose between them, Cambridge, pray; | So, whichever first shall bray,

Which is weakest, Cambridge, say.

Once, we know, a horse's neigh

Choose him, Cambridge, for thy own. Choose him, choose him by his bray; Thus elect him, Cambridge, pray.

Fixed the election to a throne;

COPY OF AN INTERCEPTED DESPATCH.

FROM HIS EXCELLENCY DON STREPITOSO DIABOLO, ENVOY EXTRAORDINARY TO HIS SATANIC MAJESTY.

St. James' Street, July 1,

GREAT Sir, having just had the good luck to catch
An official young Demon, preparing to go,

Ready booted and spurred, with a black-leg despatch,

From the Hell here, at Cr-ckf-rd's, to our Hell below

I write these few lines to your Highness Satanic,
To say that, first having obeyed your directions,
And done all the mischief I could in the Panic,'
My next special care was to help the Elections.

Well knowing how dear were those times to thy soul,
When every good Christian tormented his brother,

And caused in thy realm such a saving of coal,

From their all coming down, ready grilled by each other;

Remembering, besides, how it pained thee to part
With the old Penal Code,-that chef-d'œuvre of Law,
In which (though to own it too modest thou art)

We could plainly perceive the fine touch of thy claw ;

I thought, as we ne'er can those good times revive
(Though Eld-n, with help from your Highness, would try)
'Twould still keep a taste for Hell's music alive,

Could we get up a thundering No-Popery cry;

That yell which, when chorused by laics and clerics,
So like is to ours, in its spirit and tone,
That I often nigh laugh myself into hysterics,
To think that Religion should make it her own.

So, having sent down for the original notes

Of the chorus, as sung by your Majesty's choir,
With a few pints of lava, to gargle the throats

Of myself and some others, who sing it with fire,' 1

Thought I, if the Marseillais Hymn could command
Such audience, though yelled by a Sans-culotte crew,
What wonders shall we do, who've men in our band,
That not only wear breeches, but petticoats too!'

Con fuoco-a music-book direction,

Such then were my hopes; but, with sorrow, your Highness,
I'm forced to confess-be the cause what it will,
Whether fewness of voices, or hoarseness, or shyness,-
Our Beelzebub Chorus has gone off but ill.

The truth is, no placeman now knows his right key,
The Treasury pitch-pipe of late is so various;
And certain base voices, that looked for a fee

At the York music meeting, now think it precarious.

Even some of our Reverends might have been warmer—
But one or two capital roarers we've had;
Doctor Wise1 is, for instance, a charming performer,
And Huntingdon Maberly's yell was not bad.

Altogether, however, the thing was not hearty;-
Even Eld-1 allows we got on but so-so;

And when next we attempt a No-Popery party,
We must, please your Highness, recruit from below.

But, hark, the young Black-leg is cracking his whip-
Excuse me, Great Sir-there's no time to be civil ;—
The next opportunity shan't be let slip,

But, till then,

I'm, in haste, your most dutiful

DEVIL.

MR. ROGER DODSWORTH.

To the Editor of the Times.

SIR, -Living in a remote part of Scotland, and having but just heard of the wonderful resurrection of Mr. Roger Dodsworth from under an avalanche, where he had remained, bien frappé, it seems, for the last 166 years, I hasten to impart to you a few reflections on the subject.

Yours, etc.,

LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI.

WHAT a lucky turn-up!-just as Eld-n's withdrawing,
To find thus a gentleman, frozen in the year
Sixteen hundred and sixty, who only wants thawing
To serve for our times quite as well as the Peer ;-

To bring thus to light, not the wisdom alone

Of our ancestors, such as we find it on shelves,
But, in perfect condition, full-wigged and full-grown,
To shovel up one of those wise bucks themselves!

Oh thaw Mr. Dodsworth and send him safe home,-
Let him learn nothing useful or new on the way;
With his wisdom kept snug from the light let him come,
And our Tories will hail him with 'Hear' and 'Hurra!'

This reverend gentleman distinguished himself at the Reading election.