room quite overpowered me. I got better in the evening, and, as the girls were not with us, Mr. Fulmer took me round the Palais Royal, which is a curious place indeed. We saw several Prussian war horses, and went into the "Coffee of Milk Alone," so called because when Bonyparte confisticated the cargoes from the West Indies, and propagated the use of coffee, the lady who kept this place made a mixture of milk alone, which answered all the purpose of coffee. The room is surrounded by looking-glasses, so that the people are always multiplying who go there. The lady herself was very beautiful, but Mr. Fulmer told me she was constantly reflected upon. Mr. F. took some melted glass, upon which I did not like to venture, but contented myself with a tumbler of catterpillar and water.

Wednesday we went to the Shampdemars (which is opposite to the Père Elisée) and saw a review of the Queerasses of the Royal Guard. The sister of the late Dolphin was present the Dolphin of France is the same as the Prince of Wales in England. The Duke Anglehome came by, from hunting, just at this time. I am told he is quite a Ramrod in the chace. The troops performed their revolutions with decision, and, having manured all over the ground, fired a fille-de-joy, and returned to their quar


We went yesterday to what is their Parliament House, and while we were a-waiting in the antic room, I saw a picture of Lewis de Sweet himself, in a large purple robe, lined with vermin and covered with fleur-de-lice. Being a stranger, I was allowed to look into the chamber; it is not quite what I expected. There seemed to be a man in a box with a bill before him, and the men who were speaking spoke all in French, and looked very shabby and mean; to be sure,

they were only the deputies. It would have been more lucky if we had seen the members themselves.

Sairy, I think, has got a puncheon for Mr. Fulmer, and I am afraid is fretting about it, but that is quite cet à dire between us. Mr. B. he says her figure is like the Venus de Medicine, which is owing, no doubt, to the pulling down she has had of late. We are going next week to Sunclew again, but we travel in such an odd carriage, that I cannot prevail upon myself to mention its name.

You must excuse a short letter to-day. I was determined to write, else I thought our friends in Westminster might be disappointed. You shall hear more at large by the next opportunity. Always yours,


P. S.-If you see Mr. R., tell him Mr. Fulmer has bought him two pictures: one of Ten Years, the other of Old Beaus. I am no judge, but they are very black, and shine beautifully. They are considered shift-doovers in these parts. -"Ramsbottom Papers."

Mrs. Ramsbottom's Opinions on Popery

To Mr. Bull

GRAVESEND, April 2, 1829.

MY DEAR MR. B.: I have taken a trumpery residence hear for the seeson for the health of my third gull, which is frequently effected with a goose. I send you up a copy of the Gravesend Guide, which will explain all the booty of the place, and all its convenences.

Oh, B. B., I have got a krow to pluck with you. I cannot make out what makes you such a stench Protestant. Poor dear Mr. Ram never could bear Poppery, but I am afraid he was a big goat at bottom, for the mounsheer which massed my second, tells me that it is a sweat religion, and that you can always get ablution for paying for it, which is very pleasant.

I remember the riots of Hayti, when they burnt old Newgate and got to all the goals. They raised several houses to the ground, and burnt Lord Mansfield's house in Bloomsbury Square, which was of brick and stone; what would they have done with his Willy up at Highgate, which is all inade of wood; yet, after all, he goes on in the House of Pears a-speaking agin the Roaming Catlicks, just as if nothing had happened to him. He must be very antickated, now, I should think.

You have heard, in course, that the new Pop is erected. Mounsheer tells me that Ginger was a very good Pop as ever was. He died, notwithstanding his infallowbility. All Pops go off, and that is as it should be, for as they lives infallowbile, so they infallowbilly dies. Mounsheer told me that it was thought that either Carnal Fetch or Carnal Comealonzo would have been erected Pop, but that Charles Deece would have put his feeto upon Fetch. So they have erected Catllineye. They put poor Ginger after his death into a cistern, with his holy toes a-protruding out of a grating for the people for to kiss..

I should have liked to be in Room when the conclave was held. Oh, Mr. B., you very much mistake the Catlick priesthood. All the stories you hear of the Carnals keeping columbines is entirely calomel. They nose better than to do such things as those. For myself, I hop to see the day when all

extinction in religion is forgot, and we shall see all our halters occupied by Poppish priests.

What does Mr. More, the almyknack maker, say on this toe-pick?

"Shall I ask the brave sojer that fites by my side,
In the kawes of mankind, If our creeds agree?
Shall I give up the friend I have bullied and tride,
If he kneel not afore the same halter with me?

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I says ditto, ditto, to Mr. More. Why should we hairyticks stick up for our authordoxies, or any other sich, or despise the Roaming Catlicks? We are decanters from the holy church ourselves, just as much as the Hairyons, or the Whistlings, or any others are from hours. Can't we worship, every one after his own fashion? Why, do you know, Mr. B., the Quacker ladies goes down to Grinnage, and Woolidge, and Popalar, and the Isle of Docks, and all them parts, to phissit the poor female convix, which is about to be transpirted to Von Demons Land and Bottomy Bay, where the illustras Cook first found out the Cangerews. Poor gulls, I think it a pitty to send them out. They are some on 'em so juvenal. Oh, Mr. B., what must their rum and essences be when they reclect time past. Some on 'em, if they are hard-working meretricious gulls, gets married as soon as they gets to the Coloony, and when they does, Mr. Fulmer tells me, they play the very dooce with the malthouse system, which I spose means that they drink too much hail and bear in proporshun.

A navel sergeant goes to take care on 'em, and sees that they want for nothing. He locks them up every night, and never suffers in foxes paws, but keeps them quite crekt, and

they are in such order that he has just only to talk of the lock and the key to subdoo 'em in a minuet.

Yours truly,

LAVINIA RAMSBOTTOM. -"Ramsbottom Papers."

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