THE EUTHANASIA OF VAN.

"We are told that the bigots are growing old and fast wearing out. If it be so, why not let us die in peace ?"-LORD BEXLEY's Letter to the Freeholders of Kent.

STOP, Intellect, in mercy stop,

Ye curst improvements, cease;
And let poor Nick V-ns-tt-t drop
Into his grave in peace.

Hide, Knowledge, hide thy rising sun,
Young Freedom, veil thy head;
Let nothing good be thought or done,
Till Nick V-ns-tt-t's dead!

Take pity on a dotard's fears,

Who much doth light detest;

And let his last few drivelling years

Be dark as were the rest.

You, too, ye fleeting one-pound notes,

Speed not so fast away

Ye rags, on which old Nicky gloats, A few months longer stay.*

Together soon, or much I err,
You both from life may go-
The notes unto the scavenger,
And Nick-to Nick below.

Ye Liberals, whate'er your plan,
Be all reforms suspended;
In compliment to dear old Van,
Let nothing bad be mended.

Ye Papists, whom oppression wrings, Your cry politely cease,

And fret

your hearts to fiddle-strings

That Van may die in peace.

So shall he win a fame sublime
By few old rag-men gain'd;
Since all shall own, in Nicky's time,
Nor sense, nor justice reign'd.

* Perituræ parcere chartæ.

So shall his name through ages past, And dolts ungotten yet,

Date from "the days of Nicholas,"

With fond and sad regret ;

And sighing, say, "Alas, had he "Been spar'd from Pluto's bowers, "The blessed reign of Bigotry

"And Rags might still be ours!"

TO THE REVEREND

ONE OF THE SIXTEEN REQUISITIONISTS OF NOTTINGHAM.

WHAT, you, too, my

1828.

***** *, in hashes so knowing,

Of sauces and soups Aristarchus profest! Are you, too, my savoury Brunswicker, going To make an old fool of yourself with the rest?

Far better to stick to your kitchen receipts;

And if you want something to tease

variety,

for

Go study how Ude, in his "Cookery," treats
Live eels, when he fits them for polish'd society.

Just snuggling them in, 'twixt the bars of the fire,

He leaves them to wriggle and writhe on the coals*, In a manner that H-rn-r himself would admire,

And wish, 'stead of eels, they were Catholic souls.

*The only way, Monsieur Ude assures us, to get rid of the oil so objectionable in this fish.

Ude tells us, the fish little suffering feels;

While Papists, of late, have more sensitive grown ; So, take my advice, try your hand at live eels,

And, for once, let the other poor devils alone.

I have ev'n a still better receipt for your cook-
How to make a goose die of confirm'd hepatitis * ;
And, if you'll, for once, fellow-feelings o'erlook,
A well-tortur'd goose a most capital sight is.

First, catch him, alive—make a good steady fire Set your victim before it, both legs being tied, (As, if left to himself, he might wish to retire,) And place a large bowl of rich cream by his side.

There roasting by inches, dry, fever'd, and faint, Having drunk all the cream, you so civilly laid,

off,

He dies of as charming a liver complaint

As ever sleek parson could wish a pie made of.

* A liver complaint. The process by which the livers of geese are enlarged for the famous Patés de foie d'oie.