tenuation, if not an excuse: he has been driven by the exigency of circumstances to a thousand acts, from which his principles as a statesman, and his own noble instincts, must have made him shrink. But that he should dine with the Beef-steak Club! the thing 's impossible." With such expressions of indignant incredulity this report was received. Yet it gradually gained ground upon the public disbelief, and at last the day on which these novel festivities were to take place, was formally and authentically proclaimed. The day arrived, and Lord Wellesley sat in the midst of the Orange orgies, by the side of the very man with whom he had just declared that he could no longer act in concert in the government of Ireland. The triumph of Lord Manners was complete. Even his accustomed urbanity could not prevent him from indulging in some partial expression of superiority. His black eyes glistened with more than their usual fire; a deeper shade of Orange was infused into his complexion; his Stuart smile assumed a more lordly courtesy. With the exception of the immediate suite of the Lord Lieutenant, there was scarcely one friend of his in the whole assembly-the tables were lined with men who eyed the noble Marquis with an expression, in which hatred appeared to have given way to a less vehement emotion. The evening passed slowly and heavily away, and in place of the usual bustle and clamorous jocularity which accompany such assemblies, a certain dulness, arising from the consciousness of restraint, prevailed over the meeting. Lord Wellesley affected high spirits, but it was easy to perceive that he was personating a part, which he felt at last that he ought not to have undertaken. He was not actually insulted to his face, although he took a sudden offence at some phrases of the Lord Chancellor, who, in pronouncing judgment upon the excellence and utility of the Beef steak Club, congratulated Lord Wellesley upon the opportunity which he enjoyed of relaxing, amidst these recreative convocations, from the rigour and austerity of his political labours. The latter imagined, but I believe erroneously, that something disrespectful was intended, and suddenly started at the banquet at the ghost of his own dignity. The Chancellor assured him that he was under an erroneous impression; and he rested apparently contented with the explanation. Nothing remarkable occurred until the hour for Lord Wellesley's departure, which was anxiously expected by the company, had arrived. They had entered into a stipulation that "The exports of Ireland" should not be drunk in his presence, and waited for the moment of his departure to indulge in this contumelious toast. At length he signified his intention to retire :—the whole assembly rose-he walked through the files of Orangemen upon each side, and bowed as he passed along. He reached the door, while every glass was filling to the brim; and scarce had he crossed the threshold, when "The exports of Ireland" was given, and received with loud and vivacious acclamations. The noble Marquis hurried down stairs, with the shouts of laughter, which proceeded from the meeting, ringing in his ears, and returned to the Castle after an effort at conciliation, which, whatever may be thought of it in a political point of view, must be regarded as a pattern of Christian virtue, in which the precept of forgiveness was carried to a point of perfection that excited as much wonder as admiration. Those who had formed an estimate of his cha VOL. VI. No. 36.-1823. 71 racter from his Oriental achievements, expected that his descent in the West would be attended with a scarcely inferior lustre. It was hoped that he would leave behind him a track of illumination which would be long reflected by his country. It is possible that some beam of light may yet break through the dimness in which he is enveloped, but hitherto we have only had occasion to contrast his glory in the East with the clouded setting of his renown. While these incidents were taking place, the Ex-Attorney-general, Mr. Saurin... But I have exceeded my limits, and must postpone a detail of the events which were produced by the agency of that once important, and still remarkable person. Mr. Saurin, Bradley King, the Archbishop of Dublin, and the church-yards, will furnish me with materials for another letter. CRITO. THE HUNTER OF THE PYRENEES. Light o'er the lea the hunter bounds, With buoyant heart and brow unclouded; The hill, with its peak in thick mists shrouded, He quickly clears the deep ravine, Treads with firm foot the blue-flower'd heath, The game is up, and away he goes! The eagle from her crag-form'd rest Eyes the fierce chase, and onwards soaring, Flaps her flight o'er the mountain's breast, And fancies food for her hungry nest. She marks from her height the fusil's flash- And blood-drops blush on the rock-weeds brown. G. 563 CIVIC SPORTS. NO. II. Extracted from the Journal of Simon Swandown. The Wedding Day. First they kiss'd, Then shook fist, And look'd like two fools just-going to marry.-Old Song. Saturday, Nov. 15, 1823.—9 A. M. Dressed myself in my new blue coat, white waistcoat, diamond shirt pin, sea-green small clothes, and white silk stockings, not forgetting a pair of white kid gloves, to attend celebration of marriage of Betsy, third daughter of my old friend Benjamin Blueball, the pawn broker in Fleet-street, with Richard Highdry, son of Ezekiel Highdry, the tobacconist in Long-lane, Smithfield. Waited half an hour for my wife, who had solemnly engaged to 66 get on her things" at nine precisely. No time for breakfast; but as Blueball had promised us a magnificent one in Fleet-street, that did not much matter. To save time, walked down stairs to shop, and served Clutterbuck's clerk with two quires of foolscap and a quarter of a pound of red sealing-wax; he evidently all the while much puzzled to account for my early finery. Wife's flounces being at length adjusted, set off as gay as larks, in a hackney chariot, up from Bushlane toward place of appointment. Stopped by a coal-waggon at corner of Cannon-street, while carter was throwing down empty sacks, and bawling one, two, three, four! Wife thrust out of window her head, covered with a white beaver hat, ornamented with white ostrich feathers tipped with scarlet, and told counting man that we were in a hurry. Carter grinned, and answered, "Then you had better wait till your hurry is over!” Wife drew back in anger, observing, however, that the fellow really had not a bad set of teeth. Coalheavers and chimney-sweeps always have white teeth. Val. Verjuice says, it proceeds from the blackness of their faces; as a Drury-lane messagebearer looks a capital actor when planted among the sticks on Richmond-green. Drove through Lombard-street, and got a nod from my banker, Sir Daniel Discount, who was seated at a pulpit-desk punching holes in old checks, super-enlightened by a fat mould candle four to the pound. Wife looked up at Mansion-house windows, but could not catch a glimpse of her bran-new ladyship, or either of the honourable misses. Drove, at an easy rate, along Cheapside; feeling a serene complacency at being well dressed. Turning toward St. Paul's, when wife gave a loud scream as if she was stuck, and, with a pull at the check-string that almost brought the driver's little finger into her lap, exclaimed that she had quite forgotten a toy for little Sally Blueball. Deviated to corner of Paternoster-row, and stopped at Dunnett's toy and Tunbridge warehouse, with rocking-horses enough to stock both theatres. Paviours and passengers made an awe-struck alley to let us pass. Much deliberation before final decision. Leaden rope-dancers, tumble-down London cries, nut-cracking human heads, and wax dolls with moveable eyes, successively chosen and rejected. Wife at length pitched upon a little white dog, who, on being earnestly pressed, barked under his fore-paws. Had a private opinion that it sounded more like a cuckoo, but was too prudent to give it utterance. 10 A. M. Arrived safely in Fleet-street, Wife desiring Blueball's shopman to be particularly careful of her shawl. Ushered up stairs, and introduced in form to the assembled company. Heard my own name repeated above twenty times, and longed for Bishop to set the serenade to music: "Sir Christopher Contract, Mr. Simon Swandown; Mr. Simon Swandown, Sir Christopher Contract; Mr. Simon Swandown, Sir Samuel Suffrage; Sir Samuel Suffrage, Mr. Simon Swandown." Ditto wicy warcy, as the man has it in "Sweethearts and Wives,") with Mr. John Blueball and Mr. Peter Blueball, brothers of our host. Ditto with Mr. Prune and Mr. Pob-joy, brother and half-brother of Mrs. Blueball. Head hardly settled, when it was set dizzy again by similar changes rung between my wife and the wives of the aforesaid. Observed three old ladies, dressed, poor creatures! in white muslin at this inclement season, seated near the fire, and staring at the hearthrug. Asked Blueball, in a whisper, who they were? was answered, in another whisper, that they were maiden aunts of Mrs. Blueball, who had come up to London on purpose; that he did not at this moment recollect their names, nor where they came from; he knew it was from some place beginning with an M. It might be Malton, or Maidstone, or Margate; no, that was not it: he was pretty sure it was either Malmsbury, Manchester, or Mauritania: at all events, it began with an M. After the storm of introduction, sea settled into a dead calm, nobody knowing what to talk about. Mrs. Blueball hereupon pulled nursery-bell, and a shower-bath of brats ensued. Wife now produced white dog, which was received by little Sally, who, in the hurry of possession, quite forgot the requisite curtsey. That homage being performed at the instigation of mamma, wife put urchin up to the barking process, and the whole house ere long echoed "cuckoo :"-odd overture to a marriage festival! Every body habited in white: could not help thinking of the Miller and his Men. Much whispering and getting into holes and corners. Walked to the window: saw an old woman cleaning Waithman's upper casements, and thought of Whittington and his Cat. Two of the little Blueballs, in their passage near the hearth-rug, unluckily pounced upon by two of the maiden aunts from the place beginning with an M. Little innocents forced to stand like stocks to have their heads smoothed down by two venerable paws. Did not see the necessity of this, their pates being previously sufficiently glossy, but said nothing, the family having, I found, expectations in that quarter. Felt a gnawing in my internals, and looked about sharp for tea and toast. Hinted my feelings to Bob Blueball, and was greeted with a horse-laugh, appended to "You'll get no water here, great Rusty Fusty. We don't breakfast till we come from church." 11 A. M. A knock at the street-door announced the advent of the bridegroom, and brought Betsy the bride into the room, supported by Emma and Harriet, her two elder sisters. A general rising, accompanied by that sort of compassionate attention which is bestowed upon gentlemen in the press-yard while their fetters are being knocked off. Betsy's eyes red; dressed in order to look particularly well, and consequently never looked so ill. In two seconds, in stalked Richard Highdry. Ribbed white silk stockings, and breeches of the colour of our Elizabeth's canary-bird: hair auburn, according to the Miss Blueballs; but had he come upon any errand short of courtship, I am convinced they would have dubbed it red. A hurried bow and a blush denoted the iniquity of his object. Seated himself, as in duty bound, next to his mistress upon a music-stool. Offered him a chair; but he answered, in a tone of affected indifference, "No, thank you—this will do very well!" vibrating and creaking all the while like a tin chimney cap in a high wind. Another knock, and an announcement of two dingy-looking trustees under the marriage-settlement. Blueball in high spirits, snapping his fingers, jingling his keys in his breeches pocket, and darting his physiognomy into every body's face, like one in quest of his wits. Mrs. Blueball communicated apart with one of the dingy trustees, who thereupon thus addressed the company: It is time to go to church. Saint Bride's being such a mere step, it is settled that we go on foot." Bride now applied sal volatile to her nostrils, and groom, in my humble opinion, looked like a decided ass. Written paper produced by other dingy trustee, setting forth order of precedence, viz. Mr. Blueball and bride, Mrs. Blueball and groom, Sir Christopher Contract and Lady Suffrage, Sir Samuel Suffrage and Lady Contract, Bob Blueball and my wife, myself and Mauritanian aunt No. 1, Peter Blueball and ditto No. 2, Mr. Prune and ditto No. 3, the two dingy trustees with Emma and Harriet Blueball, and Mr. Pob-joy with the French teacher. Troops filed off, and descended to street-door. Order of march much impeded by a string of Meux's drays extending from Temple Bar to the Hand-in-Hand Fire-office. Three first couple darted between two drays, remainder left on pavement in front of door. Mauritanian aunts thus separated, to their no small terror. Forces at length congregated safely in St. Bride's church. Rank and file ranged round the altar. Audible sobs from mamma, and serious symptoms of hysterics from Emma. Bridegroom fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for ring; would gladly have given him mine, but wife would not let me. On being questioned whether he would take Betsy Blueball for his lawful wife, groom waited half a second, as if to deliberate, and at length out bolted "I will!" like a pellet from a pop-gun. 12 M. Order of return impeded at corner of Bridge-street, by Bethel Union charity-boys, in dwarf leather breeches, headed by Lord Gambier, and tailed by Mr. Wilberforce, singing a suitable hymn in duetto. Hundreds of servant-maids looking out of garret windows. Safe back at starting-post. Magnificent breakfast in the mean time set out in drawing-room. Found juniors of family busy in making up packets of bride-cake, with little bits drawn through the ring for special favourites. Wife made me cram ours into my coat pocket: grease evidently oozing through: did not quite approve of having my new blue coat pocket made a buttery hatch, but thought it expedient to say nothing. Coffee handed round by simpering maid. Bridegroom, having one hand round bride's waist, reached his cup too carelessly in the other, and consequently tilted half its contents upon his own Canary shorts. The latter, in the parts thus deluged, assumed an autumnal tinge not ill suited to the season. More finger-snapping and tomfooling from Blueball, who exhibited in triumph the key of the street-door, |