"UBI MEL, IBI MUSCA." No. 15-NEW SERIES.] SATURDAY, APRIL 13. [TWOPENCE. Every purchaser of this number of "THE FLY," is entitled to an exquisitely-executed Lithographic PRINT, "The Sailor's safe Return," which is presented gratuitously.-[A similar print with every number.] LOUIS XV. AND LOUIS XVI. During his whole lifetime, Louis XV. would confront any danger, and knew fear but in one shape, that was in form of the devil. It was his fixed notion, and whilst giving way to his passions he had continually before his eyes the yawning gulf. However, as soon as he suspected any secret danger, there was no need to hint to his Majesty the necessity of showing himself a Christian king, for he acted with a strength of purpose and self-composure that but few thought him capable of. In his last illness the visits of the Dauphin were entirely prohibited, but, shortly after being taken ill, he assembled his daughters together. They appeared greatly affected each endeavouring with difficulty to suppress her tears. After pacifying and consoling them as he best could, he then said, "As for the rest, it will be as it shall please God, but my chief business now is to consider y health.' ecuyer had attended for orders, not from the Dauphin, but from the First Gentleman of the Bed-chamber, for it had so been agreed upon. It was further arranged that the royal family should repair immediately to Choisy, and that the service of the equeries would be wanting on a given signal. The signal was a lighted taper placed at a window, which was to be extinguished the moment the King breathed his last. At the expiration of three hours and some minutes, Doctor Lemmannier announced, with the accustomed forms of service, that his Majesty had passed from this life to another. Immediately, all the courtiers and those in office hastened with the utmost precipitation, and no small stir, to the apartments of their new Majesties. The first movements of Louis XVI. and his young Queen, the beautiful Marie Antoinette, was to fall down on their knees, and address a short prayer to the throne of grace. Madame Campan told me she heard them address themselves with the greatest devotion and zealous fervency, in the following terms:- -"Mon Dieu! guide and protect us upon that throne to which we are about to ascend so young." Alas! how far still were their fears from that soul-sickening and most horrible truth, thus early anticipated! F. E. OF THE DEY OF ALGIERS AND MAKER OF VERSES. A HINT TO POETS. What ridiculous things are of daily occurrence in human life! How often an illusion, a hope, a dream, long cherished in the heart, on the eve always of being realised, ends in a cheat, a bubble, and sometimes even in caricature. About five years ago, in I know not what cock loft at Marseilles, lived a poet, nourishing himself with chimeras and coarse bread, ac John Cunningham, Printer, Crown-court, Fleet-street. Soon cording to the received custom of ancient poets; a custom in our times fallen into disuse, owing to poets having long since gone out of fashion. Our young man having to no purpose invoked his muse for a host of persons incapable of comprehending him (that is to say, of paying him), bethought him, in one of those luminous rays which divine love by chance pours into the brain-conceived, I say. the notion of addressing an ode to the Dey of Algiers! An ode in good French to the king of the savages! In this you must agree there was poetical rapture, if ever there was. after, the ode was made and sent. From that day the poet was in a fervour of expectation, and this the more vivid, as his acquaintance with eastern splendour was confined to what he had gleaned from the "Arabian Nights," and counted on nothing less than some 1000 gold pieces to lay at the feet of this barbarian father, who, brute as he was, would bestow his daughter only on a man, and not on a poet. The answer was not long in coming, and some few weeks after the captain of a corvette climbed up to the poet's garret "Sir," said he, saluting the rhymer, like one who had correspondence with the Dey of Algiers, "I am charged with a present which is sent to you from his Majesty the Dey." "Ah!" exclaimed the poet, setting up in his bed, which served him "for table, press, arm chair, and all." "The cadeau is rather heavy," continued the captain, smiling, and has given us, moreover, a great deal of trouble." The poet, with full extended eyes and gaping mouth, was even counting beforehand the sacks of sequins heaped up in his attic. The man of war cast his eyes from side to side with an air of uncertainty and inquiry. "I do not very well see,' said he, "that you have place sufficient, for she has since got some young ones." "What! little ones too ?" cried the poet, Second Voice. CHARADE. Before the Lord I always stand, I'm in each field on every land 1; In palaces and halls I'm found, And in all parallels abound; The world without me could not be, "Twould be a mere word, as you'll see. I'm with the lion and the lamb, The lynx, the jackall, there I am; The whale, that monster of the deep, I'm always with him, e'en in sleep : I'm with the leopard in his lair, Yet dare not touch a single hair. Without me hell could not exist, If ta'en from there I should be miss'd; In the midst of England I am seen, Yet ne'er in Europe have I been; On hill, in dale, my form you'll trace, But ne'er on mountains show my face. I live in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, I' the midst of all their pleasant vales; I ne'er did Adam or Eve see, Yet Abel liv'd and died with me. I could a thousand more things tell, Of where I'm found, and where I dwell; But if you wait a week you'll see Me, with the head of "Charade B." Brighton. S. BANNISTER. ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL LIKENESS OF THE QUEEN IN NO. I. OF THE "FLY." "That's not amiss," said A to B, ""Tis the prettiest I have seen :" "Indeed it is a-Miss," said B., "For she has never married been !" Brighton. S. BANNISTER. ON EARLY RISING. Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed. There the cony at evening disports with his The breath of night's destructive to the hue love, Or rests on the sod-while the turtles above, There darkness and dampness with poisonous breath, And loathsome decay fill the dwelling of death : The trees are all barren and bare. Oh, soft are the breezes that play round the tomb, And sweet with the violet's wafted perfume, With lilies and jessamine fair. Of every flower that blows. Go to the field, stream Of midnight theatre, and morning ball. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. The following anecdote of England's illustrious portrait painter is not generally known The picture to which the story has reference is the "Puck" of Sir Joshua seated on a fungus, illustrative of his great archetype Shakspeare. "This is one of those subjects," says a modern writer, "which, however felicitous or rather fortuitous its coming to light was, mus still be considered as exclusive-all attempts at a copy having hitherto failed." The merry imp is the portrait of a child which was painted without any particular aim as to character. When Alderman Boydell saw it he said, "Si Joshua, if you will make this pretty thing into a Puck for my Shakspeare gallery, I will give you one hundred guineas for it." The President smiled, and said little, as was his custom. A few hours' happy labour made the picture what we see it. This bijou was in the possession of the late Lord de Tabley at his death. F. E. FOREST TREES. I have paused more than once in the wilderness of America, to contemplate the traces of some blast of wind, which seemed to have rushed down from the clouds, and ripped its way through the bosom of the woodlands; rooting up, shivering, and splintering the stoutest trees, and leaving a long track of desolation. There is something awful in the vast havoc made among these gigantic plants; and, in considering their magnificent remains, so rudely torn and mangled, hurled down to perish prematurely on their native soil, I was conscious of a strong movement of sympathy with the wood nymphs, grieving to be dispos sessed of their ancient habitations. I recollect also hearing a traveller of poetical temperament expressing the kind of horror which he felt in beholding, on the banks of the Missouri, an oak of prodigious size, which had been in a manner overpowered by an enor mous wild grape vine. The vine had clasped its huge folds round the trunk, and from thence had wound about every branch and twig, until the mighty tree had withered in its embrace. It seemed like Laocoon strug gling ineffectually in the hideous coils of the monster Python. It was the lion of tree perishing in the embraces of a vegetable boa I am fond of listening to the conversation of English gentlemen on rural concerns, and of noticing with what taste and discrimina tion, and what strong, unaffected interest the will discuss topics, which in other countrie are abandoned to mere woodmen or rustic cul tivators. I have heard a noble earl descan on park and forest scenery with the scienc and feeling of a painter. He dwelt on th shape and beauty of particular trees on hi estate with as much pride and technical pre cision as though he had been discussing merits of statues in his collection. I foun that he had gone considerable distances examine trees which were celebrated amon rural amateurs; for it seems that trees, horses, have their established points of excellence, and that there are some in England which enjoy very extensive celebrity from being perfect in their kind. THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR So Though you are worthless, witless, never mind it. But if you are poor, heaven help you! though Had royal blood within him, and though you His domestic undertakings seem to imply a longer existence than those of ordinary men. None are so apt to build and plant for future I centuries, as noble spirited men who have reThere is something nobly simple and pure ceived their heritages from foregoing ages. in such a taste. It argues, I think, a sweet I can easily imagine, therefore, the fondness and generous nature to have this strong relish and pride with which I have noticed English for the beauties of vegetation, and this friend-gentlemen, of generous temperaments, but ship for the hardy and glorious sons of the high aristocratic feelings, contemplating those forest. There is a grandeur of thought con- magnificent trees, which rise like towers and nected with this part of rural economy. It pyramids from the midst of their paternal is, if I may be allowed the figure, the heroic lands. There is an affinity between all naline of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, tures, animate and inanimate. The oak, in and free-born, and aspiring men. He who the pride and lustihood of its growth, seems to plants an oak looks forward to future ages, me to take its range with the lion and the and plants for posterity. Nothing can be eagle, and to assimilate, in the grandeur of less selfish than this. He cannot expect to its attributes, to heroic and intellectual man. sit in its shade, nor enjoy its shelter; but he With its mighty pillar rising straight and exults in the idea that the acorn which he has direct toward heaven; bearing up its leafy buried in the earth shall grow up into a lofty honours from the impurities of earth, and sup- 'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains. pile, and shall keep on flourishing, and in- porting them aloft in free air and glorious I once saw a poor fellow, keen and clever, creasing, and benefiting mankind, long after sunshine, it is an emblem of what a true Witty and wise: he paid a man a visit, he shall have ceased to tread his paternal nobleman should be; a refuge for the weak, a And no one noticed him, and no one ever shelter for the oppressed, a defence for the Gave him a welcome. Strange," cried I, defenceless; warding off from the peltings of the storm, or the scorching rays of arbitrary He walked on this side, then on that, power. He who is this, is an ornament and a He tried to introduce a social chat; blessing to his native land. He who is other-Now here, now there, in vain he tried; wise, abuses his eminent advantages; abuses Some formally and freezingly replied, the grandeur and prosperity which he has drawn from the bosom of his country. Should tempests arise, and he be laid prostrate by the storm, who would mourn over his fall? Should he be borne down by the oppressive hand of power, who would murmur at his fate? Why cumbereth he the ground ?" IRVING. fields. Indeed, it is the nature of such occupations to lift the thought above mere worldliness. As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth peace and philanthropy. There is a serene and settled majesty in woodland scenery that enters into the soul, and dilates and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations. The ancient and hereditary groves, too, that embower this island,* are most of them full of story. They are haunted by the recollections of the great spirits of past ages, who have sought for relaxation among them from the tumult of arms, or the toils of state, or have wooed the muse beneath their shade. It is becoming, then, for the high and generous spirits of an ancient nation to cherish these sacred groves that surround their ancestral mansions, and to perpetuate them to their descendants. Brought up, as I have been, in republican habits and principles, I can feel nothing of the servile reverence for titled rank, merely because it is titled. But I trust I am neither churl nor bigot in my creed. I do see and feel how hereditary distinction, when it falls to the lot of a generous mind, may elevate that mind into true nobility. It is one of the effects of hereditary rank, when it falls thus happily, that it multiplies the duties, and, as it were, extends the existence of the possessor. He does not feel himself a mere individual link in creation, responsible only for his own brief term of being. He carries back his existence in proud recollection, and he extends it forward in honourable anticipation. He lives with his ancestry, and he lives with his posterity. To both does he consider himself involved in deep responsibilities. As he has received much from those that have gone before, so he feels bound to transmit much to those who are to come after him. *This piece, though it is the production of an American, was written in England. 66 TO MISS O, there was none in that bright throng, In sprightly talk, and mirthful song, Of all the sparkling eyes that beam'd There was not one whose glory seem'd And not a sunny blush that glow'd On lady's cheek that night, The heart's untold delight. Which beams in beauty's eye, "whence is it?" 66 And some Said by their silence, "Better stay at home." As Croesus rich, I'm sure What a confusion! all stand up erect: The poor man hung his head, "This is indeed beyond my comprehension :" One friendly face he found, And said, "Pray tell me why is wealth preferr'd To wisdom ?" friend," "That's a silly question, Replied the other-"have you never heard, Of gold or silver ore, But wisdom none can borrow, none can lend ?" THE CHINESE PRISONER. A certain emperor of China, on his accession to the throne of his ancestors, commanded a general release of all those who were confined in prison for debt. Amongst that number was an old man, who had fallen an early victim to adversity, and whose days of imprisonment, reckoned by the notches which he had cut on the door of his gloomy cell, expressed the annual circuit of more than fifty suns. With trembling limbs and faltering steps he departed from his mansion of sorrow: his Come then, my good sister, let us hasten to a THE PEOPLE'S FRIENDS. eyes were dazzled with the splendour of the lent, and where justice is done to our merits. A guished men, popular for their advocacy of the light; and the face of nature presented to his view a perfect paradise. The jail in which he had been imprisoned stood at some distance from Pekin, and to that city he directed his course, impatient to enjoy the caresses of his wife, his children, and his friends. Having with difficulty found his way to the street in which his decent mansion had formerly stood, his heart became more and more elated at every step he advanced. With joy he proceeded, looking eagerly around; but he observed few of the objects with which he had been formerly conversant. A magnificent edifice was erected on the site of the house which he had inhabited; the dwellings of his neighbours had assumed a new form; and he beheld not a single face of which he had the least remembrance. Her neighbour replied, "But, sister, do not "Do not fear," said the first mouse, "in After this conversation, our two mice set out together, contriving the evening before she set sail to creep along the cordage of a vessel that was to make a long voyage. They got under weigh, and were enraptured from the abominable shores on which cats ex- An aged beggar, who with trembling knees stood at the gate of a portico, from which he had been thrust by the insolent domestic who guarded it, struck his attention. He stopped, therefore, to give him a small pittance out of the bounty with which he had been supplied by the emperor, and received, in return, the sad tidings that his wife had fallen a lingering sacrifice to penury and sorrow; that his children were gone to seek their fortunes in distant or unknown climes; and that the grave contained his nearest and most valuable friends. Overwhelmed with anguish, he hastened to the palace of his sovereign, into whose presence his hoary locks and mournful visage soon obtained admission; and casting himself at the feet of the Emperor, "Great Prince," he cried, "send me back to that prison from which mistaken mercy has delivered me! I have survived my family and friends, and even in the midst of this populous city I find my-secure at home. self in a dreary solitude. The cell of my dungeon protected me from the gazers at my wretchedness; and whilst secluded from society, I was the less sensible of the loss of its enjoyments. I am now tortured with the view NOW PUBLISHING, At Cobbett's Register Office, 11, Bolt-court, Fleet- Neatly bound and gilt lettered, Frice 1s. 6d., Already published, THE REV. J. R. STEPHENS, An accurate portrait, encircled by a wreath of Myrtle and Laurel, and supported by the Labouring Classes bearing Emblems of their Strength. ***The following note, attesting the accuracy of the Likeness and the elegance of the design, has been received by the publisher : "Dukinfield, March 21, 1839. "Sir, I beg to acknowledge the receipt of a copy of the very spirited lithographic drawing you have published. The Likeness I consider more correct than the Engraved one! You have done me much honour in deeming me worthy of such supporters as you have placed by my side-the Youth of England, both the fair and the brave. "Though I have done nothing to entitle me to wear the laurels you have placed around and over me, I hope always-however feeble my efforts-to aspire to the character of The People's Friend,' and beg to subscribe myself, Sir, "Your obedient, humble servant, The next in succession will be John Frost, Esq.; of pleasure in which I cannot participate; and foretelling the present Crisis, and showing the and many others. difficulties that the Right Hon. Bart. would have to By W. COBBETT, the late M. P. for Oldham. LETTER. CONTENTS. on Imperial Proof It is necessary to be particular in asking for the portraits published by Carlile, as inferior ones are foisted on the unwary by unprincipled traders. Published by Thomas Paine Carlile, 220, DeansFleet-street, London. 1. What will you now do with the House of Com-gate, Manchester; and Alfred Carlile, Water-lane, What will you do with Ireland, and particularly 2. 3. 4. "An excellent thought has just come into my head: I read in some book which I gnawed a few days ago, that there is a fine country, called the Indies, in which mice are in much greater security than here. In that region the sages believe that the soul of a mouse has 5. been that of a king, a great captain, or some wonderful saint, and that after death it will probably enter the body of a beautiful woman 6. or mighty potentate. If I recollect rightly, this is called metempsychosis. Under this idea, they treat all animals with paternal charity, and build and endow hospitals for mice, where they are fed like people of consequence. mons? with the Church of Ireland? What will you do with the Church and the Dis- On the Destructive Effects of Funds and of What will you do with the Tax-eaters, called What will you do with the Crown Lands, and |