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time I feel sure of a successful issue of this contest, for the gold of all the treasuries in the world will not purchase a single vote in the loyal and patriotic town of Swill-cum-Fuddle. No, my friends, for if there is one thing in the whole world on which I pride myself, it is the intimate knowledge I have acquired of your wishes and inclinations,and in that knowledge consists my consciousness of a power that is irresistible-a power that will carry me safely and securely through the stormy waves of a contested election, into the wished-for haven of success. Yes, from the many flattering promises I have received, and not the least flattering from the lips of the ladies of Swill-cum-Fuddle, than whom there are not fairer in the whole world, better mothers, or more virtuous wives, I confidently rely upon a majority of votes. Fellow townsmen! you know my principles,-you know that I entertain a rooted aversion to the pestilent (whatever the popular aversion may be), and everything else that is repugnant to the good sense and correct feeling of the loyal and independent electors of the good town of Swillcum-Fuddle.

'I am a bitter and unflinching opponent of (whatever they oppose), and a staunch and unyielding supporter of (whatever they support).

'Fellow townsmen, I will not longer detain you by a detail of what I intend to do in furtherance of your wishes, assuring you that mine are limited to the proud distinction of serving you, and most amply shall I be repaid in the success of my endeavours to promote your welfare, and protect your interests.

'Farewell,-poll early, and God bless you all!'

SPOUT THE SIXTH.

If, as is frequently the case, you should be greeted by yells and hisses, and not be able to get a word in edgeways, in the pursuit of parliamentary honours, do not waste your breath in attempting to make yourself heard, but repeat the following words at intervals, filling up,' with appropriate pantomime-Independent Electors of Incorruptible-Bribery and Corruption-Church and State-New Poor-law-Unions-Bastiles-Corn-law-Cheap Bread-Heartless Ministry-Loyalty-Youthful Queen-Reform-The Charter-Unbought Majority-Head of the Poll-Vote by Ballot-Distress of the Country-Extravagance-Civil List-Sinecures and PlacemenArmy and Navy-God save the Queen!

The gentlemen of the press will be able (if acquainted with your politics,) to make a very happy speech out of these heads,'-and you will have the pleasure of reading what you did not say in the leading journal of the county on the following morning.

NETLEY ABBEY.

BY THOMAS INGOLDSBY, ESQ.

Periérunt etiam Ruina.

The very Ruins now are tiny.

I saw thee, Netley, as the sun
Across the western wave
Was sinking low,
And a golden glow

To thy roofless towers he gave;
And the ivy sheen,

With its mantle of green,

That wrapt thy walls around,
Shone lovelily bright
In that glorious light,

And I felt 'twas holy ground.

Then I thought of the ancient time--
The days of thy Monks of old-

When to Matin, and Vesper, and Compline chime,
The loud Hosanna roll'd,

And thy courts and long-drawn aisles' among,
Swell'd the full tide of sacred song,

And then a vision pass'd

Across my mental eye;*

And silver shrines, and shaven crowns,
And delicate Ladies in bombazeen gowns,
And long white veils, went by,
Stiff, and staid, and solemn, and sad,-

-But one, methought, wink'd at the Gardener-lad!

Then came the Abbot, with mitre and ring,
And pastoral staff, and all that sort of thing,
And a Monk with a book, and a Monk with a bell,
And dear little souls,'

In clean linen stoles,

Swinging their censers, and making a smellAnd see where the Choir-master walks in the rear, With front severe,

And brow austere,

Now and then pinching a little boy's ear,

When he chants the responses too late, or too soon, Or his Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La's, not quite in tune,

It was, in sooth, a comely sight,

And I welcom'd the vision with pure delight.

* In my mind's eye, Horatio!-HAMLET.

But then 'a change came o'er'
My spirit-a change of fear-
That gorgeous scene I beheld no more,
But deep beneath the basement floor
A Dungeon dark and drear!
And there was an ugly hole in the wall-
For an oven too big,-for a cellar too small!
And mortar and bricks

All ready to fix,

And I said, 'Here's a Nun has been playing some tricks!—
That horrible hole !--it seems to say,

"I'm a Grave that gapes for a living prey!

And my heart grew sick, and my brow grew sad-
And I thought of that wink at the Gardener-lad.

Alas! and alack!-'tis sad to think

That Maiden's eye, which was made to wink,
Should here be compelled to grow blear, and blink,
Or be closed for aye

In this kind of way,
Shut out for ever from wholesome day,
And wall'd up in a hole with never a chink,
No light, no air, no victuals, no drink!
And that Maiden's lip,

Which was made to sip,

Should here grow wither'd and dry as a chip!
That wandering glance and furtive kiss,
Exceedingly naughty, and wrong, I wis,
Should yet be considered so much amiss
As to call for a sentence severe as this!
And I said to myself, as I heard with a sigh
The poor lone victim's stifled cry,*

Well! I can't understand

How any man's hand

Could wall up that hole in a Christian land !—
Why, a Mussulman Turk

Would recoil from the work,

And though, when his Ladies run after the fellows, he
Stands not on trifles if maddened by jealousy,

Its objects, I'm sure, would declare, could they speak,
In their Georgian, Circassian, or Turkish, or Greek,
"When all 's said and done, far better it was for us,
Tied back to back,

And sewed up in a sack,

To be pitch'd neck-and-heels from a boat in the Bosphorus !"
Oh! a Saint 'twould vex

To think that the sex

Should be treated no better than Combe's double X.

About the middle of the last century a human skeleton was discovered in a recess in the wall among the ruins of Netley. On examination, the bones were pronounced to be those of a female. Teste James Harrison, a youthful but intelligent cab-driver of Southampton, who 'well remembers to have heard his grandmother say that "Somebody told her so."'

Sure some one might run to the Abbess and tell her A much better method of stocking her cellar.'

If ever on polluted walls

Heav'n's red right arm in vengeance falls,—
If e'er its justice wraps in flame
The black abodes of sin and shame,
That justice, in its own good time,
Shall visit for so foul a crime,
Ope desolation's floodgate wide,
And blast thee, Netley, in thy pride!

Lo, where it comes !-the tempest lours,
It bursts on thy devoted tow'rs;
Ruthless Tudor's bloated form

Rides on the blast, and guides the storm;
I hear the sacrilegious cry,

'Down with the nests, and the rooks will fly!'

Down! down they come-a fearful fall-
Arch, and pillar, and roof-tree and all,
Storied pane, and sculptur'd stone,
There they lie on the greensward strown-
Mouldering walls remain alone!

Shaven crown,

Bombazeen gown,

Mitre, and Crozier, and all are flown!

VOL. X.

And yet, fair Netley, as I gaze
Upon that grey and mouldering wall,
The glories of thy palmy days
Its very stones recall!

They come like shadows, so depart'-
I see thee as thou wert-and art-

Sublime in ruin!-grand in woe!

Lone refuge of the owl and bat;

No voice awakes thine echoes now!

No sound-Good Gracious!-what was that?
-Was it the moan,

The parting groan

Of her who died forlorn and alone,

Embedded in mortar, and bricks, and stone?—
Full and clear

On my listening ear

It comes-again-near, and more near-
Why, 'zooks! it's the popping of Ginger Beer!
-I rush to the door-

I tread the floor,

By Abbots and Abbesses trodden before,
In the good old chivalric days of yore,

And what see I there?—

In a rush-bottomed chair

A hag, surrounded by crockery-ware,

27

Vending, in cups, to the credulous throng
A nasty decoction miscall'd Souchong,'-
And a screeching fiddle and 'wry-necked fife'
Are screeching away, for the life!-for the life!
Danced to by All the World and his Wife.'
Tag, Rag, and Bobtail, are capering there,
Worse scene, I ween, than Bartlemy Fair!-
Two or three Chimney-sweeps, two or three Clowns,
Playing at pitch and toss,' sport their Browns,'
Two or three damsels, frank and free,

Are ogling, and smiling, and sipping Bohea.
Parties below, and parties above,

Some making tea, and some making love.
Then the 'toot—toot-toot'

Of that vile demi-flute,

The detestable din

Of that cracked violin,

And the odours of 'Stout,' and tobacco, and gin!
-Dear me !' I exclaim'd, 'what a place to be in!"
And I said to the person who drove my 'shay,'
(A very intelligent man, by the way,)

This, all things considered, is rather too gay!
It don't suit my humour,-so take me away!
Dancing! and drinking!-cigar and song!
If not profanation, it's "coming it strong,"
And I really consider it all very wrong.
-Pray, to whom does this property now belong?'-
-He paused, and said,
Scratching his head,

'Why I really do think he's a little to blame,
But I can't say I knows the Gentleman's name!'

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And an unbidden tear-drop stood in my eye,

My vastly good man, as I scarcely doubt

That some day or other you'll find him out,
Should he come in your way,

Or ride in your "shay,"

(As perhaps he may,)

Be so good as to say

That a Visitor, whom you drove over one day,

Was exceedingly angry, and very much scandalized,

Finding these beautiful ruins so Vandalized,

And thus of their owner to speak began,

As he ordered you home in haste,

'NO DOUBT HE'S A VERY RESPECTABLE MAN,

BUT-I can't say much for his taste."

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T. I.

* Adieu, Monsieur Gil Blas; je vous souhaite toutes sortes de prospérités, un peu plus de goût !-Gil Blas,

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