See hapless Portugal, who thought
A common creed her safety bought;—
A common creed! Alas! his life
Has been one bloody, impious strife!
Beneath his torch the altars burn,
And blush on the polluted urn-
Beneath his Christian foot is trod
The symbol of the Christian God!
The plunder'd Fane, the murder'd Priest !-
The Holy Pontiff's age opprest!
Religion's blush, and Nature's sigh,
Proclaim Napoleon's piety!!!
Where'er his locust legions veer,
Ruin and Woe, and Want are there-
And dreams, as future murders sweep
Across their fever'd hours of sleep.

BUONAPARTE'S LATE SPEECH

TO THE LEGISLATIVE BODY.

[From the Morning Post, July 4]

OOD Gentlemen Deputies, as you besought me,
Goo
I'm come, in my purple array'd :---

For the Tarquin in clouts which my other Wife brought me,
The young King of Rome that she happily got me,
My people quite easy has made.

Yet the Church is the thing that I care most about,
And the Church of old Rome most of any;
Though some may presume my religion to doubt,
And think, notwithstanding I speak so devout,
I value the Pope not a penny.

To this scandal I'll now put an end in a jerk,
And Rome shall in Paris be rising :

The scandal was over, when first I turn'd Turk;
But now, since I've finish'd my renegade work,
I've done with Mahometanizing.

A

Since

Since old Dad has a place at Paris and Rome;
If his bosom true Piety carries,

He will make Christianity's Centre his home,
And scorn like a Mendicant Friar to roam,
But pitch his head-quarters at Paris.

Though Holland I fix'd in a sovereign station
When on the French Throne I was seated,
I saw she was only a small Emanation
So out walk'd my Brother with due abdication,
And her Ditches my Empire completed.-

But England, of me and my Commerce afraid,
Would suffer no Flag to be neuter ;››
That is, with myself and my vassals to trade,
While her Ports and Possessions I keep in blockade-
But I've settled that point for the future.

By

fair means or foul, as a foe or a friend,
I got the Ems, Elbe, and the Weser ;
But, trust me, it was not my reign to extend ;-
As for land I've enough-I shall gain all my end,
When exalted a maritime Cæsar.

America labours on ocean to shine;

And faith I will second the Yankees;
While the Sovereign Kings whom I strung in a line,
With the slip-knot that's titled the Rope of the Rhine
I have nothing to give them but thankees.

The English they bring all the passions in play,
Supposing I mean nothing good;
And if there were any design in my way,
Of kidnapping Kings, or contriving a fray,
Which I could not have done, if I would!
With pride and with jealousy England would plot,
Of empire and crown to bereave me ;
But as for more power, I wish for it not,
Being wholly content with the share I have got,>
If Europe will only believe me.

MAN

And here is Don Joseph, the true King of Spain,
At your Council assisting quite sober;
I have given him all that was proper, to gain,
By rapine and murder, one glorious campaign,
Which he ought to have done last October.—
Yet, alas! since the year eighteen hundred and nine,
When I swore this rebellion to finish,
As a principal actor did England combine,
With her gold, her intrigues, and her troops of the line!
But soon all her hopes shall diminish.—

For, since into Rome I've transmogrified France,
So England to Carthage I'll turn :--
Much better on Spain than at Sea is my chance ¡
So swimming on land, I'll to conquest advance,
And her navy at Badajoz burn.

And when she is ready to tumble asunder,
Oh then I'll appear in the true nick :
I'll ring in her ears such a peal of my thunder,
As shall make all her destinies quickly knock under,
And give up this contest so Punic!

CAMILLUS.

THE PAINS OF A PARTY OF PLEASURE.
[From the General Evening Post, July 6.]
TO THE EDITOR, &c.

SIR,

14 AM greatly mistaken, if, in stating the difference between the English and French modes of living, it was not agreed by all travellers, that the French are total strangers to what we call comfort-either in their houses or their parties. The distinguishing characteristic of an Englishman's happiness was, not that excess of joy and animation which is peculiar to our more lively neighbours; but, in all his pleasures, his highest gratification was a species of comfort and of snugness connected with his notions of liberty, and excluding every idea of constraint and inconvenience. Englishmen,

Englishmen, in their parties, delighted in that unconcerned species of relaxation in which the body, as well as the mind, was at perfect ease. He lolled in his chair, took his glass, and cracked his jokes— stretching his limbs under the table, with a sort of indolence which showed the absence of care and concern. However industrious in business (and no nation can exhibit greater industry), when he came to relax, as he called it, he presented a perfect picture of ease, freedom, and comfort, which, whilst it admitted social pleasure, excluded fear, anxiety, and

ceremony.

But, Sir, how comes it about that all this has of late been reversed-that in all our parties of pleasure we should study only to what inconvenience our guests may be put, and even to what danger they may be exposed? Whether our fashionables give what they call a rout, or a dinner; a breakfast, or a gala; or by whatever name the entertainment may be called, why is it become the fashion to surround us with inconve niences and risks, which totally banish all ideas of pleasure or comfort? A dance, and the room so crowded that it is impossible to move-a dinner or supper, and the guests so numerous that all politeness and accommodation are exchanged for a scramble, that would do credit to a shilling ordinary-cardparties, in which all play is turned into fainting-fits and swooning-refreshments, which are so difficult to be procured, that hartshorn and lavender must be substituted-a promenade, in which we enjoy every thing but the power of breathing-and the whole produce of a hothouse brought into a room, that fresh air may be excluded-and ladies and gentlemen, instead of talking, laughing, and joking, are screaming, gasping, and crying.

Such are the pains of a modern party of pleasure; and all I wish to know, Sir, is, the advantage to be

VOL. XV.

N

derived

derived from this system of inconvenience and embar rassment. I should suppose that some advantage 'must arise, although I cannot discover what it is; for I am confidently assured, that there are ladies of distinction who give routs of the kind I have described, and are happy only in proportion to the number of fainting-fits within doors, and of accidents without: such as the pole of one coach driven through the back of another; a footman's leg broken; the whole neighbourhood disturbed; glasses smashed; horses rearing, kicking, and plunging; ladies walking without shoes to their carriages, &c. &c. Without a column or two of these casualties in a newspaper, Lady A. and Lady B. and Lady C. declare that a rout would be worth nothing; and so it may, for aught that I know. All I wish explained is, the theory-the philosophy-of such entertainments; in order that, while a considerable proportion of mankind are laughing at the preference given to personal inconvenience and risk, they may be instructed in what they cannot at present comprehend.

But while I mention this aversion to social com'fort as something new in our entertainments, I would not have it thought that I mean to compliment the ingenuity of the inventors. In truth, there is so little of invention, so little of what any blockhead may not practise, that they can take scarcely any credit to themselves on this score. In order to render a 'Party of Pleasure as uncomfortable, inconvenient, and dangerous, as possible, nothing more is required than to invite twice the number of guests which the house will hold! Surely this recipe is simple, and adapted

to the meanest capacities;" and if it requires any addition, it must derive it from the state of the weather. Thus, a fête champêtre may be given in a rainy season; or an in-door rout when the thermometer stands at 70; and this, with double the number of