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But their challenging, cursing, and banning,
Is heai'd by a Statement from Canning ;

While his Lordship retains

His small portion of brains,
And thanks God there's no need of trepanning!

Oh! what a clear explanation
For a luminous Administration !

For a valorous, military,

Civil, conciliatory,
Vigorous Administration !



[From the Morning Herald, Jan. 4.] MR. EDITOR, BEING remarkable for the mildness of my dispo

sition, and my love of harmony, a friend of mine, who knows one, who knows another, who knows one of the stewards of this memorable feast, sent me a ticket for the dinner. I was, in consequence, so much absorbed with the probable events, and being somewhat heavy-headed, that I fell into a reverie, and from that into a sound sleep; when the following images presented themselves to my distracted fancy.

Methought the great room at the Crown and Anchor tavern was filled with company, almost to a point of suffocation.-Mr. Clifford was the President; and on each side of him were arranged Messrs. Kemble, Harris, Powell, and Savage, and who could scarcely eat, from the endless courtesies which they were paying 10 each other. They leered and simpered in commutual civility, until complaisance was exhausted.

On the removal of the cloth, the fraternal hug went round; when Mr. Clifford rose, and, after giving the healths of the Sovereign and his august Family, he thus addressed the meeting:

“Gentlemen-We are met here this day to celebrate the restoration of theatrical harmony; and sure I am, 0. P. THE RECONCILIATION DINNER. 381 that there is not a Muse on Parnassus who does not sympathize with us in this very extraordinary issue. Give me permission to present my learned and worthy. friend Mr. Kemble to your consideration, that he may exact as much of your esteem in private, as he does of your applause in public: he is not only a buttress to the Drama, but an illustrator of our vernacular tongue, as he can add feet to a verb, and castrate a noun substantive, with the facility of a Bolognese operator."

that 66 O. P."

At this instant a clamour arose at one of the sidetables for more wine ; and which was not silenced until Messieurs Flaxman and Rossi (both R. A.'s) were loudly announced. This incomparable twain, and types of Praxiteles, entered the room with dignity, and each grappled the handle of a large washing-tub, filled with Parisian plaster, to take a model of the united hands of Messieurs Clifford, Kenible, Harris, and Townsend. They certainly invited John Bull to a participation of the honour, but he growlingly declined the partnership. When the cast had been perfectly made, Mr. Kemble gracefully proposed that the following words be engraved on every thumb-nail:

Ne m'egratignez pas, camarade; to commemorate the unexpected and public nuptials between oil andavinegar.-During the ceremonies of the coalition, Mr. Harris complained that Mr. Kemble had squeezed him too hard.

In order to give a more mirthful turn to the conversation, the facetious Mr. Munden was called sing; when he favoured the company with the ensuing merry adventure, which he ably sang in the shape and measure of a canzonette.


The Tune" Mary's Dream."
The moon was madd’ning half mankind,

While desolation thion'd life's tree,
'W'ben ’nnid night's damps, at Kentish town,
I met the spectre of O. P.!

upon to


“ O.P." said I, “ why thus so wan?"

Then, suivelling, thus quoth he to me: « Go, mend your galligaskins, Joe,

And think no more of poor O. P.!
6 Rattles and catcalls now must sleep,

Placards be wrapp'd round bad bohea,
Bugles be scoff'd, and horns of tin,

For Fate hath crippled poor O. P.!
Now I'm Whereas'd in Death's Gazette,

And soon a mass of dust must be;
Pray do not leak upon my tomb,

Nor soil the sod that hides O.P.!
" May Discord rage


your scenes,
And flash her brands at John and thee;
May all your wives have triple tongues,

And then you 'll think of poor O. P.!
On Saturdays may forfeits dire

Vex Fawcett, Young, and Emery;
May Claremont cease to murder belles ;

That will be bliss to poor O. P.!” Mr. Munden was vociferously applauded for this descriptive ditty, which is assuredly crammed full of lyric beauties; but it gave particular delight to the company, inasmuch as they knew, upon the open authority of Mr. Munden, that 0. P. was not only driven from the precincts of the Theatre, but that he was disquieted even in extinction.

Mr. Cooke was next summoned to sing ; and, after a few apologies, he chanted this Parody, which he delivered with wonderful address, when we consider that the matter of the subject is so utlerly foreign to his habits.

Let the Sultan, sable Joha,

Act the rake and play the don :
Well, well, every man inust have his way!

But, to my poor way of thinking,
True joy is drinking !
Could I have Merlin's art, 'clep'd black,
I'd change the Thames to Cogniac :

Well, 0. P.THI RICONCILIATION DINER. 383 Well, well, every man must have his way!

But, to iny poor way of thinking,

True joy is drinking! Mr. John Bull was now desired to entertain the party with a ballad, or madrigal, in his own way; when honest John had thrown a satirical glance pr two at the President and his quondam antagonist, he hemmed, adjusted his cravat, and bawled out the following libellous nonsense, with the powers of a Stentor.

Tune-" The Frog in the Opera Har."
Hal Clifford would once a reforming go,

Heigho! says Clifford;
He swore by the mass that he'd nonsuit his foc,
And under his jerkin he bid his Aambeau ;

With his rowley, powley, gammon and spinnage,

" I'll do it,” roar'd patriot Clifford. He went to the Pit, where he saw a great fray,

Heigho! says Clifford; “ We want," cried O. P. “ those vile boxes away, For if they don't şin there, I'm sure that they may;"

With a rowley, powley, gammon and spiunage,

“They shall vanish," said patriot Clifford. Then he toil'd day and night to take vice by surprise,

Heigho! said Clifford; Till Policy came and threw dust in his eyes ; Now he can't find his way, though the sun burnt the skies;

With his rowley, powley, gammon and spinnage,

I must halt here," said patriot Clifford. “ Though suspicion may think that my zeal was a Alam,

Heigho!" said Clifford; “ The vulgar no more shall antipathy cram, For the lion is going to hed with the lamb:

With his rowley, powley, gammon and spinnage ;

I've done it," said patriot Clifford. “ See John and I swim in the Manager's boat;

Heigho!” said Clifford ;
“ Though integrity smiles while we both are afloat,
Yet he's a doo -d'fool who can't turn an old coat;

With his rowley, powley, gammon, and spinnage,
A’nt I clever?" said patriot Clifford.


Now he swears reformation has got a new tụne ;,

Heigho! said Clifford;
Lo! he and John Kemble, like loon scratching loon,
Sip their drainatic broth with the very same spoon;

With his rowley, powley, gaminon and spinnage,

It's over, said patriot Clifford. While a murmur of dissatisfaction was vibrating on every car, at the tendency of some points in John Bull's song, the candles began to burn blue, and the company to look aghast; when the ghost of O. P. rose, with an evident intention of defending himself from the influence of calumny. - When he came opposite to Mr. James Brandon, he suddenly stopped, and, shaking his rough head in fearful guise, most pathetically exclaimed :

Oh, Jemmy Brandon ! Jemmy Brandon, oh! On this intimation the worthy Boxkeeper incontinently rose from his seat, and assuming a tragical attitude, in the manner of the new school, thus menaced his immaterial, but inmortal enemy:

“ Avaunt! perturbed, ghastly, vile O.P.
Shake not thy gory locks at me; thou canst
Not surely say 't was I that did it!
Dare me to Bow Street, or tumultuous Pit,
And look as grimly as the old Brown Bear;
Il trembling I inhibit, proclaim me for
Tie baby of a Boxkeeper.
Acours d O. P. take any s'ape but that,

And my firm verve's shall never tremble."
As the influence of terror was becoming contagious,
the following extemporaneous catch was sung by
Alessrs. Incledon, Bellamy, and Taylor :
Mr. Incledon-0. P. is threatening, c--se his soul;

Hit him o'er bis grisly jowl.
Air. Bellamy-Lick bim !
Mr. Taylor--Kick bim!
Omnes--Drown him in the negus bowi!

On this decided invitation, the enraged company seized la anima de morti, and threw it into a vast bowl of red wine negus. For some minutes O.P.


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