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haver and stare over the wonderful stripped the mask from the features of achievements of those miraculous Gen- foulness, and made the despot-imtlemen of the Press, who bring out the postor stoop from his throne to drain dramatic criticisms in the morning the cup of exposure, and kneel in the papers, the very day after the piece cri- dust of irretrievable degradation. ticized was performed-after testifying As for the old assertion, so unpitythis profound respect for the Reporters! ingly reiterated throughout the five or -after calling the contributions to Col- six concluding pages of this article, burn's Magazine, and its rival, “ the viz. that the Tory press of the present very cream of periodical literature”- day has had the guilt of introducing a in short, after this complete blending, new and unheard-of measure, and, inamalgamating, and interfusing of it deed, a new and unheard-of system, of self, with all that sort of concern-up- personal vituperation into English lion what, in the name of everything terature-I say, once for all, that the that is salutiferous, is this Quondam assertion is grossly in opposition to the Down-looker to take his stand ?-No! truth of history. That it is wilfully he has fallen from his humbug height false, I do not say—because I am sure

- he has slidden from his vapouring Mr Jeffrey is incapable of writing or vantage-ground-he has leapt from editing what he knows to be false ; but, his laughter-inoving pinnacle-he now at the same time, I must be permitted stands upon the debateable ground like to observe, that this article shews that other people, and woe be to him if he some Edinburgh Reviewers have read stands there only to be a mark for your Blackwood's Magazine ; and all the unerring and unsparing articlery. You world knows, that this assertion has may depend on it, many will be the been proved to be false in that jourweary days through which Mr Jeffrey nal, not once nor twice, but fifty will bemoan himself, for having been times. I refer, once for all, to that betrayed into this betise. It will not Number of the Noctes Ambrosianæ, be either sneering or snuffling that in which the history of English libel will suffice to lug him out of the was gone into at so much length, and quagnire, into which he has suffered brought to so triumphant a conclusion a quackish and Cockney will-o'-the- in favour of the Tories generally—but wisp to seduce his unfortunate stilts. above all, and more especially, of the

Let Mr Jeffrey reflect upon all this Tory writers of the present time. As coolly by himself--and, if he does make for the grossness of the mis-statement, up his mind to do the thing like a man I need not surely lecture upon that to --if he does make up his mind to at your readers. They know that Jeffrey, tack you boldly and directly for your Brougham, and Moore, were vindicarticles on the Edinburgh Review, its tive libellers of men, as well as of prinpolitical basenesses—its irreligious tone ciples, long ere Christopher North ever throughout—its occasional slips of in- shed one drop of ink on the field of fidelity, open and not to be mistaken- periodical literature. They know that its blasphemous sneers--and its vile Peter Pindar preceded the Anti-jacobin prostitution of literary criticism to the they know that the Examiner, the purposes of unpatriotic and unchris Morning Chronicle, and the Times, tian rancour and spleen--if he does preceded John Bull. They know that make up his mind to come forth in the Tory warfare has been strictly, harness, and give battle upon these and in every stage of its progress, a great points no fear, say I, but he defensive one: They know that Mr shall meet a champion well armed for Jeffrey and his clan had twenty years the conflict. But let him not lay the of free and unchecked abusing, cre Aattering unction to his soul, that, by Blackwood began to abuse them ; and loose, vague, and indefinite paragraphs they kvow, and all the world feels, that of abuse, such as this made-up thing if, on one or two occasions, (for I deny consists of, he can blind the eyes of that more than this can be asserted, the public to the damning fact, that he even by the bitterest of your honest avoids the questions which really have enemies,) you have overstepped the been, and are, at issue, between his limits of perfect propriety in the style journal and that which first bearded of your warring, the transgression was him in his own northern den, which only a transcript of what he and all first shewed that to be little which had his friends had been accustomed to do before passed current for great, which from their youth upwards--and they -the world - the impartial candid sters : Was it to be supposed that world, will not fail to observe how you were not against sense, grammar, broad is the line that must be drawn rhyme, and reason? You were enbetween the unprovoked, tyrannical, titled, in short, neither to justice nor vindictive vituperation, habitual to the to mercy; and the Edinburgh Reold Edinburgh Review, and the few viewer, who volunteered to deprive occasional instances of ultra-severity you of a livelihood, whether by striinto which the representative and the king at your moral fame, or your intelavenger of a party whose very food lectual reputation ; in short, by any had been insult, may have been be- means, however atrocious or dastard trayed in the momentary heat of tem- ly,—this Edinburgh Reviewer, this per or rather, I should say, in the Brougham, this Jeffrey, was entitled roused and flaming indignation of to the thanks of the liberal, the gralong-trampled virtue, long-derided re- titude of the decorous, the applauses ligion, long-spurned and outraged pa- of The Whigs. Witness, ye much intriotism. with his gang, look at the real matter party objects sink, when contrasted of this delightful paragraph. Here with the universal feelings of humawe have the miserable man owning, nity, and the great-God grant it that in consequence of our exertions, were always the common cause-of the whole of his wickedly industrious social good. pack are LAUGHED AT BY THE GREAT, I would it were in my power to terAND, BEST OF ALL, INSULTED BY THE minate in this vein; but I cannot end MOB, tortured, hunted, and worried without saying, very shortly, that noto death, convicted of stupidity and thing, even in the Edinburgh Review, ignorance in prose and verse, ruined ever excited in my mind emotions of in pretensions, scorned for the disco- a more painful nature, than certain vered particulars of their whole life, passages in the article on Las Cases's education, and conversation, dissected book about Napoleon. To see the as condemned malefactors, looked on character of Marie Antoinette thus as guilty of petty vices and absurdi- sneered at in the face of all the affecte ties, suspected of being bad subjects, ing evidences of its saint-like, princeand universally admitted to be bad ly, and heroic elevation which Mme. writers and bad men, by all the re- Campan's work and the “ Royal spectable and well-disposed part of Memoirs" have just laid before the the community! How awful a deli, world! Is this chivalry? Is this manneation of the wretched state of mind hood ? And to see such things quoted enjoyed (if I may use the word) in the Review that is to be lying on by those who have lifted up their the tables of at least some English voices against their monarch and their ladies for three months to come !God! How consolatory to those who such vile obscenitysuch heartless, have stuck to that cause through good witless filth! I blush indeed for Mr and evil report ! Not a word that I Jeffrey. Is it possible that the article can say could heighten the picture; is another contribution from the same but never forget it, North ; let it serve wretched Ribald, who treats the same as an everlasting text for you, when subject in the same spirit of dishoever you think fit to mention THE nesty and degradation in the new

jured names of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Does Mr Jeffrey flatter himself that and Southey-witness, ye eternally all his thousand misdeeds of the form- blended epithets of Renegado and er, the free, the unfettered day of his Driveller-witness, ye magnanimous domination, are forgotten or forgiven, sneerers about the Morning Post and merely because in these latter times the Stamp-Office-witness, Oxford !he and his partizans have been whip- witness, Copplestone !-witness, ye ped, lashed, scourged into comparative more recent audacities, that have just quietness, decorum, and inoffensive been rebuked into the mingled blush ness? Does a blue and yellow viper and shiver of impotence, by the stern cease to be one, merely because his retributing indignation of insulted fangs have been extracted ? Is such Philpotts ! a CREATURE the less a viper, because But I beg pardon-I have really pity is a more natural and appro- been verging towards seriousness— priate feeling for him in his pre- which is surely the last mood of your sent disabled condition than wrath ? mind in contemplating this affair. You, No-no!-the memory of an insulted of course, regard the whole as an indicommunity is not quite so short-lived rect compliment paid to yourself; and as some of these old and branded of. indeed, dear North, a compliment of fenders may well wish it were. The compliments, and a triumphant tritime was, and at no distant date, when, bute to you it is. I speak not of the to make use of language that you will compliments to your talents, extorthave no difficulty in recognizing, ed by a lurking remnant of truth, “ The Whigs assumed a natural su- in the midst of abuse--as, for inperiority over us, as if, being of a dif- stance, where, in an absurd tirade ferent party, we were necessarily of an against the Noctes Ambrosianæ, to inferior species, and justly liable to be put down which he appears anxious tortured, worried, and hunted to death for an act of Parliament, he is comlike any other vermin.” The time was, pelled to admit their wit, and the when they had a right to say what they shrewdness of their remarks; because pleased of us, to invent and propagate compliments from such a creature are any falsehood or misrepresentation that rather affronts than otherwise. But suited their turn. It was then that your triumph, your true and glorious the greater the falsehood, the more was triumph, consists in the grovelling, the merit—the more barefaced the im- crawling, cowardly, pitiful confession posture, the more laudable the fraud. of the utter prostration of the whole You were a Tory-a loyal man-a gang of whom he now acts as mouthChristian writer-did not that of itself piece, before you, and in the beggarly imply all other crimes and misdemean- and starveling lamentation over the ours? That being once granted, they severity of the well-deserved inflichad .a right to heap every outrage,

tion. That you

have crushed the verevery indignity upon you, as a matter min, we all know ; that they do squeal of course. You were an enthusiast in and gibber at the very mention of your the cause of the throne and the altar. name, is clear as light; but that any of Did it not follow that you must be a the unfortunate should be so spoony bad poet, a contemptible orator, a bi- as to make the confession in terms so got, a slave ! You were for the Mini- abject, with contortions of countenance VOL. XIV.

2 G

so ludicrously lamentable, surpassed occasion to give anecdotes of the lives my warmest expectations, until I saw of some of the profligates whom we it in this article. Then the awful have overthrown, and their enormity soreness of the whole party at finding was so great as to surpass the filth of the press to which they set up a sort any feigned charge. We have had of unalienable claim, turned against occasion to point out the tendency of them and discomfiting them totally some of their works, and this tenden-is here given utterance to in all the cy is so foul, that our very language blackness of sorrow. We have put the in exposing it was necessarily open to Whigs down in a great measure by its the danger of being suspected of shaagency, and nothing can comfort them. ring in the contamination. But it is All they have left is to accuse us of now little matter ; we have seen the scurrility and personal sarcasm. Poor work. Extract, North, extract, in the wretches ! whom does that gull ? No- very joy of your soul, Hazlitt's grabody with a head differing in organi- phic description of your overthrow of zation from a turnip. They commen

him and his rabble rout. It is deci ced a crusade against all that was es- dedly the very best thing he ever timable in society. Peter Pindar was wrote. set upon the most virtuous king that ever ornamented a throne, and his ruf

1“ Who, indeed, was likely to stand, for

any length of time, the pelting of this fian buffoonery was cheered by the

pitiless storm'—the precipitation of nick. thundering applause of the Whigs.

names from such a height, the thundering Tom Moore was clapped as the first down of huge volumes of dirt and rubbish, of jeux-d'esprit writers for the incre- the ugly blows at character, the flickering dible infamies of his Twopenny Post- jests on personal defects—with the combag, and the Fudge Family-Sydney placent smiles of the great, and THE ANSmyth flung dirt through Peter Plym- GRY SHOUTS OF THE MOB, to say noley's Letters, to their infinite joy thing of the Attorney-General's informaHone caricatured the King, and libel

tion, filed ex officio, and the well-paid de. led the most illustrious men and wo

positions of spies and informers ! " It was

a hard battle to fight. The enemy were men in the country-this very Edin

well entrenched on the heights of place burgh Review was established for the

and power, and skulked behind their ram. purpose of insulting and annoying us

parts—those whom they assailed were ex. in every manner possible, and in the

posed, and on the pavé. It was the forlorn course of its hopeful career has been hope of genius and independence strugguilty of the basest slanders on the gling for fame and bread ; and it is no · living and the dead, has run tilt against wonder that many of the candidates turnevery honest feeling, male and female,

ed tail, and fled from such fearful odds." with the most felonious ferocity. What Is not this balm to your heart? need I swell the catalogue ? Take up Do you not feel a glowing and cheery the files of the Morning Chronicle for warmth over you while reading this the last thirty years, and mark its ar- passage? To be sure you do. Not ticles; and I venture to say, the ve- that we rejoice in the woe of any poor nom, the black-hearted assassin viru- fellow-creatures, but because we are lence displayed in them, will make even happy at soul to find that the noxious the strongest stomach turn. Was this influence, which their sinful propento be tolerated ? Indeed it was not. sities led them to exercise whenever And accordingly we retorted. We they could, is clean gone. Do not disshewed the mere baseness of the Whig turb yourself about the abusive words newspaper world—the gross ignorance occasionally vented against you. In and drivelling impertinence of the their vocabulary, a sycophant to a Cockneys—the shallow pretensions, man in power, is one who fears God, and the cowardly deism of the Edin- and honours the king ; an atrocious burgh-the utter insufficiency of the dastard is a man who takes one of the Whig statesmen—and destroyed by VERMIN,” (I thank thee, slave, for merely holding up to light the infamy teaching me the word,) by the throat, of the Whig libellers. And they are and squeezes it to death in squeaking down! down among the dead men ! convulsions. Such is the dialect of There let them rot!

But, blowing away this In this operation it appears we have froth, skipping also the nonsense about been throwing filth. We are sure the Attorney-Generals and informers, who, accusation is quite true. We have had Hazlitt well knows, never meddled

the crew.

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number of the Liberal? Is such comMille habet ornatus ; mille decenter habet. munity to be pushed so far and Mr Tib. IV. ij. 14. Jeffrey still hope to maintain



gree of reputation for his work? I am afraid I have spun out your The argument in favour of the late patience altogether-but take heart, I unhappy Queen of England, viz. that, am almost done with it now.

“ after all, she only formed one conThe article “ On Early Moral Edu- nexion in the course of six years," is, cation” is Brougham's, and it is in his in this shape at least, a new one. One best style. It is full of plain strong connexion! only one Bergami! Peace be sense ; and yet a certain graceful tinge to her ashes ! Must her friends always of feeling is diffused over every sen- be the persons to stir them with the tence. Such articles cannot be too boldest finger of insult? And this is widely-read, or too highly applauded. from the Review that says the ExaThe appearance of such things I ever miner would be a respectable paper, hail with delight, wherever I find but for its " flippancy about morals them. I am a Tory, and Brougham and religion !" is a Whig ; but, after all, into what

Yours truly, insignificance these party names and

TIMOTHY TICKLER. Southside, 15th August, 1823.


Noctes Ambrosianae.

No. XI.


Phoc. ap. Ath.

[This is a distich by wise old Phocylides,
An ancient who wrote crabbed Greek in no silly days ;
An excellent rule of the hearty old cock tis
And a very fit motto to put to our Noctes.]

C. N. ap. Ambr.


Nay, do not blush, Ensign. I thought you had dipped in the Shannon, I believe you sing extempore ?



Ay, and ex-trumpery.
Curse your punning. Quaver away this (throwing M. a paper.)

MULLION, (hums a preludio.)
Then, therefore, give due audience and attend. Milton, hem!

The birds have sung themselves to rest,

That sang around our bower;
The weight of the night-dew has bow'd

The head of every flower.

And safe and silent in the bay,

Is mour'd each fisher's prow,
Each wearied one has sought his home,

But where, my love, art thou ?

The ringing of the hunter's horn

Has ceased upon the hill,
The cottage windows gleam with light,

The harvest song is still.

I pick'd a rose, a red blush rose,

Just as the dews begun,
I kiss'd its leaves, but thought one kiss

Would be a sweeter one.

I kept the rose and kiss, I thought

How dear they both would be !
But now I fear the rose and kiss

Are kept in vain for thee!

Really a very pretty song. It was spoony in you to drop it out of your pocket, ODoherty!


And amazingly genteel in you to sing it under the circumstances. It was about as bad as Brougham's reading in Parliament Mr Saurin's letter, picked out of Lord Norbury's pocket.


Is the author a secret?


Not the least. Rest her soul! she died of love. Her name was Quashie Maboo-quite a sentimental negress, who kept a canteen in the Bowery Way, New York. Poetry and peach-brandy were the death of her. I got her a great wake in 1816, for she was tenderly attached to me.

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