The Sun.
London, England, 1845-11-14 00:00:00

MOR NJ NG, k,

--LITERATURE. if 7/ 7"
HISTORY of the CONSULATE and the EMPIRE
FRANCE under NAPOLEON. By 111. A.
Thiers. Vol V.
We have already reviewed three volumes of this
work, and after the pains taken in ascertaining its cha-
racter and the abilities of the writer, we had hoped to be
spared further labour in pointing out more of his faults
and wilful mis-statements. The present number. how-
ever, is -so extravagant .in its details, and abounds
with so many' errors both as regards France and Eng-
land, that it will be necessary to point out a few of
them, and subjoin extracts in proof. It is ti singular
fact that Thiers, who seems' so anxious to place his
country in the first rank among civilised nations, and
who has diminished the merit of every great man in
France contemporary with Bonaparte, in order to extol
his idol, is the greatest calumniator of the French nation,
and has done more to lower his hero in public' estimation
than all the writers who have impartially, or even with
national prejudices, criticised the deeds of Napoleon.
We learn from him that all the French admirals in Nel-
son's time were rank cowards, that his very name terri-
fied them, that some of them dreamt of his astonishing
victories, and in their waking hours could think of no-
thing else ; that none would venture to meet him on
equal terms, and that one to whom the fineat fleet ever
raised by France was entrusted by the. Emperor, trembled
at the thoughts of Nelson, and fled befre clouds and
visions which his imagination representel as an English
fleet commanded by the hero of the Nile. The character
of Bonaparte, too, is represented in the most unfavour-
able light, not intentionally, for M. Thiers is constantly
heaping absurd eulogiums upon his great genius, his
humanity, his decision, and fifty other great qualities,
many of which no doubt he poisessed, but virtually
describes him as a great tyrant, as a man who cared
nothing for the destruction of a hundred thousand
Frenchmen, and the capture, imprisonment, or death of
the best soldiers and sailors of France, provided he had
only a prospect of obtaining some victory on which his
ambitious, restless, and unsocial mind was bent. We
shall adduce extracts to prove these statements. The
mind of Thiers is altogether of the most forbidding cha-
racter. We can find not one French personage in his
whole history for whom he seems to have anything like
respect or esteem. They are all brave of course, pos-
sess great devotion, and would die for France, but still
their defects are placed in such a light that it is only
surprising how Bonaparte could have governed the
country with such agents. Talleyrand is represented as
a man of the most 'ordinary' abilities, slow, hesitating,
and looking only to self.' Villeneuve is described as a
rank coward ; Bernadotte (ene of the best generals and
most able civic rulers that France ever produced)
is never mentioned but with some imputation on
his character ; all the brothers of Bonaparte
seem to have been very ordinary characters, even
Lucien, whose decision -of character saved the hero
of Marengo: from destruction, when his wavering spi-
rit quailed before the representatives 'of the people,
or whatever other character they possessed during
the coup a s tat at Saint Cloud, has the smallest degree of
merit allotted to him. Josephine was ruinously and
foolishly expensive in her toilette ; she was a friend of
the detested Bourbons ; she was, constantly annoying
the Emperor, and the Emperor, in his turn, acted to-
wards her like a brute. We hear of no cordiality be-
tween them ; but we hear of the Empress devising
secretly some plans to mitigate the severity of the Con-
queror. Facts are related, as it were inadvertently, which
leave no doubt that she was a woman of a feeling and
honourable mind ; and when these became known to
Napoleon, he insulted her by the rudest and nest im-
perious language. The murder of the Duke d'Enghien
is called an " event," or a " great misfortune." The
,cruel deed, contrary to all justice, humanity, and national
laws, is lamented because it brought odium on Napoleon,
and roused the whole of the Continental States against
him—not because it was .a crime of the deepest die, and
justified the allies afterwards in excluding its author
from the pale of civil rights, and chaining him on a rock
till the hour of his death. The present volume embraces
the history of events after the Duke's murder to the
breaking up of the camp at Boulogne ; and in delineating
these events, M. Thiers makes all the principal actors
perform most ridiculous parts. The only sound reflect-
ing man who figured in the scene, appears to have been
Admiral Dectio. Bonaparte was resolved to risk every-
thing, according to M. Thiers, and boldly advance with
his flotilla on England, and revenge, by a certain con-
quest of Londdn, and, consequently, the United King-
dom, the insolence and disgraces of centuries. For some
time he would listen to no advice which- might deter him
from such a project, and Bonaparte at last changed his
mind, and we give the reasons why :

" The works of the armament along the coast of Boulogne
were finished, the forts constructed, and the basins dug. The
troops having completed their task, had now returned to
their military exercises. They had acquired a truly admi-
rable discipline and precision of movement; and they pre-
sented an army not only inured to war by numerous cam-
paigns, and hardened by rude labours, but as perfect in
manceuvres as though they had spent whole years upon the
parade ground. The army, perhaps the finest that prince or
general ever commanded, impatiently expected the arrival
of its chieftain, newly raised to the throne. It burned to
congratulate him, and to follow him to the theatre of a new
and prodigious dory.
"Napoleon was' no less impatient to join it. But an impor-
tant question had arisen among the professional men, as to
whether the gun-boats composing the flotilla, nutshells, as
they were called, could brave the English fleet. Admiral
Braix and Admiral Verhuell had the utmost confidence in
those boats. Both of them had exchanged cannon-shots
with . the English frigates, had gone out of port in all
weathers, and had acquired the conviction that these light
craft were sufficient for clearing the Strait. Admiral Deeres,
inclined to contradict every one, and especially inclined to
contradict Admiral Bruix, thought the reverse. Those of
our marine officers who were not employed on the flotilla,
whether from prejudice, or from the ordinary inclination to
criticise what we have no
spart in doing, inclined to the
opinion of the minister Decres. Admiral Ganteaume, trans-
ferred from Toulon to Brest, had witnessed an accident
which we have mentioned above, and which had cau4ed him
much anxiety for the fate of the army and of the Emperor,
to whom he was sincerely devoted. The sight of a gun-
boat, capsized before his eyes in Brest roadstead. almost keel
upwards, had filled him with anxiety, and he bad instantly
written upon the subject to the minister of marine., That
accident, as we have said, was of no importance. The boat
had been unskilfully ballasted, the artillery had beefi ill-
arranged, the men were not sufficiently practised, and the
ill-distributed weight, added to the confusion of the crew,
had led to the shipwreck.

"It was not want of stability that Admiral Decres appre-
hended. The flotilla of Boulogne, manoeuvring for two years
in the heaviest squalls, had done away with all uncertainty
on that head. But he addressed the following objections to
the Emperor, and to Admiral Bruix :
"' Undoubtedly,' said he, ' a twenty-four pound shot has
the same force, whether discharged from a gun-boat or from
a ship of the line. It causes 'the same damage, •often even
niore, when discharged from a slight vessel, which it is diffi-
cult to hit, and whose horizontal tire takes effect between
wind and water. Add to this the musketry, destructive at a
short distance, and the facility for boarding, and the value of
the gun-boats cannot be doubted. They carry above three
thousand guns of large calibre, that is to say, as many as a
fleet of from thirty to thirty-five sail of the line, a fleet
which it is not often easy to assemble. But where have
these boats been seen to measure themselves with the large
vessels of the English? In but one situation, that is to say,
close in shore, in shallows, amidst which those large craft
dared not trust themselves, to follow an enemy which, nume-
rous though individually weak, was prepared to riddle them
with balls. It is similar to an army enclosed in a defile, and
assailed, from the summit of inaccessible positions,•by a cloud
of adroit and intrepid sharpshooters. But,' continued Ad..
iniral Deere', 'suppose those gun-boats in mid channel, out
of reach of shoals and sand-banks, and in presence of ships
no longer afraid to bear down upon them ; suppose, still
further, a stiff breeze, which would render manoeuvring easy
to the ships and difficult to your gun-boats, would not these
latter be in danger of being sunk in great numbers by the
giants with which they would be obliged to contend?'
e" Perhaps,' replied Admiral Bruix, we- might lose a
hundred boats out of two thousand ; but nineteen hundred
would pass over, and they would suffice for the ruin of Eng-
land.' Yes,' rejoined Admiral Decres, supposing the dis-
aster of the hundred boats not to strike a panic into the
crews of the other nineteen hundred; supposing the number
of the nineteen hundred should not prove an inevitable cause
of confusion, and supposing the officers to preserve their
coolness, for hesitation and alarm would be inevitably fol-
lowed by a general catastrophe.'
"Attention had also been bestowed upon the hypothesis of
a summer's calm, or a winter's fog, two equally propitious
opportunities, for in a calm the English ships could not bear
down upon our boats, in a fog they would be unable to see
them, and in both cases their redoubtable encounter would
be avoided. But these circumstances, though occurring
twice or thrice in every season, would not afford sufficient
security. Two tides, that is to say, the space of four-and-
twenty hours, would be required to get out the whole flotilla,
ten or twelve hours to cross over, and, allowing for the al-
ways inevitable loss of time, about forty-eight hours in the
whole. Was it not to be apprehended that in this interval
of two days a sudden change in the atmosphere might sur-
prise the flotilla in full operation ?
"The objections of the minister becres, then, were very
serious. Napoleon drew his answers from his character, his
confidence in fortune, and the remembrance of the St. Ber-
nard and of Italy. He said, that his most brilliant opera-
tions were accomplished in spite of obstacles as great; and
that while it was necessary to leave to chance as little as
possible, something must be left to it. However, while re-
futing the objections, he knew how to appreciate them, and
this man who by dint of tempting fortune at length for-
feited her protection, this man knew how to spare himself a
peril in order to add a chance of success to his plans. Rash
in conception, he always evinced consummate prudence in
execution. It was in order to meet these objections that he
incessantly reflected upon the plan of bringing, by an un-
expected manoeuvre, a grand fleet into ti Channel."
Agreeably to the new scheme the french fleets were
dispersed in all directions to deceive the English Ad-
miralty, so that, by inducing the English fleets to hunt
after them, an opportunity might be found of bringing a
strong French division into the Channel when England
had no maritime force in that quarter to oppose it. Ville- •
neuve went in one direction, some other admiral in
another, and one of them was even sent to the East
Indies, as if the English were such fools to forget the
main chance. Villeneuve was sent to the West Indies,
but there he cut a sad figure, although he had General
Lauriston always at his elbow to buoy up his courage
and drive Nelson out of his head. All, however, would
not do. One morning " he fancied he saw Nelson with
fourteen, sixteen, perhaps, eighteen sail ; that is to say
Kith a force equal to his own, ready to come upon him
and give him battle. On the instant he formed the de-
termination of returning to Europe." And here we may
give an extract about this formidable Nelson, which does
justice to that great commander and to the gallant men
whom he had so long accustomed to victory. We hardly
find any other character in the work fairly treated
Nelson, whom he so much dreaded, had arrived at Bar-
badoes early in June, after a prodigiously rapid voyage, sail-
ing fearlessly with only nine sh. Imagining that the
French intended to retake Trinidad from the Spaniards, he
had embarked two thousand men at Barbadoes, rallied the
two vessels of Admiral Cochrane, and, without staying to
revictual or refit, on the 7th he was in the Gulf of I'aria,
before Trinidad. There he discovered his error, set sail
again, and on the Wth made Grenada, He prepared to
return to Barbadoes ; to land there the troops be had need-
lessly brought thence, and to return to Europe with eleven
sail. What activity! what energy! It is a new proof, that
In wr r—and in war by sea still more than in-war by land—
the c,uslity of tho forces is always of more consequence than

' eleven sail, was full of co 9
their numb. ,Nels<nlowitith, "." MenEruve wit
iidence, on those seas ,on which
_1 "nrs !*'

but

-twentysail, andthose manned by heroic sa...
On his return, Villeneuve luckily escaped At.
to his great terror fell in with Calder, and was forcet. .
fight. Thiers seems to claim the victory. "
says he, " ended the battle, which might have been taken
for a victory on our side, but for the loss of the two
Spanish ships." These two ships, he avers, were not
burly taken—they simply drifted into the English line,
and Admiral Calder. hurried off with his priZes in the
greatest consternatiOnAest the gallant-Villeneuve should
again come up with. him, and it was by accident only
that the cowardly English were not annihilated. "At
day-break,"
_says Thiers, " the situation of the two
squadrons was clearly discernible. The English were
retreating, but carrying off the two Spanish vessels:"
" Grief and exasperation became general on board our
vessels. The crews asked to renew the action, and fight a de-
cisive battle. The wind was in our Gym-Ir, as on the previous
evening*, blowing from us towards the English. If at this in-
stant Villeneuve had given the signal to bear down upon the
enemy, without any other order of battle than the order of
speed in sailing, fourteen of the eighteen vessels we still
possessed, being of an equal rate of speed, would have fallen
upon the English at once; the other four would have arrived
soon afterwards, and the battle would certainly have been in
our favour. Roused by the cry which arose among all the
officers, Villeneuve at length gave orders for that 'move-
ment, and_went with Lauriston on board the frigate
l'Hortense, to give his orders verbally to each chief of
division. The Argonaut, the Spanish admiral's ship, having
sprung her mizen-top-yard, required time to fish it Ville-
neuve would wait for her, which took till near noon. Then
he commenced the chase; but the wind had slackened, and
he saw the English steal away from 'hint without his being
able to gain much upon them even under a press of canvass.
Villeneuve at last, to his great .j, y, got a sight of
land, and ran into Vigo,
,and afterwards entered the
roadstead between Ferrol and Corunna. There he re-
ceived pressing orders from Napoleon "to hasten to
Brest. and give battle to Cornwallis, at the risk even of
annihilation :"-

" But (adds the author) there was a sort of fatality attached
to this unfortunate seaman, to disturb his spirit, and to lead
him from pang to pang to the result which he fain would
have shunned, that is to say, to losing a great battle, and
losing it without obtaining the only result that Napoleon
demanded of him, that of being four-and-twenty hours in
the Channel."

All this obloquy cast on poor Villeneuve is to lessen
the disgra,le of Trafalgar. But Villeneuve would not,
or could not, come to Brest, notwithstanding the follow-
ing pressing order from the Emperor:—
" I hope, Vice admiral Villeneuve, that you arrived at
Brest. Set out, lose not a moment, bring my united
squadrons into the Channel, and England is ours! We are
all ready, everything is embarked. 'Be here but for twenty-
four hours, and all is ended.' (Imperial Camp of Boulogne.
22d of Aug st.)"
. _

He bad taken shelter in the bay of Cadiz, in. the very
opposite direction, for the best reason in the world.
His whole fleet would have been annihilated by the
vast force the English;had ready to meet him.. Napoleon
then "called Villeneuve a coward, and even a traitor, and
directed orders to be instantly drawn up for bringing him
by force from Cadiz into the Channel if he were gone to
Cadiz." Decres, however, contrived to frustrate the order,
as he considered the assemblage of the English fleets
between Ferrol, Brest, and Portsmouth to be "horribly
dangerous." Then his wild rage fell Upon Decnt and
though Decres knew perfectly well, and Napoleon also,
that Villeneuve had gone into Cadiz, still the farce was
kept up. Napoleon was " incessantly upon the sea-shore,
looking for some sudden arrival upon the horizon. Naval
officers, stationed with their glasses upon the various
points of the coast, were employed to observe all that
was visible upon the sea, and to report to him."
At last Decree persuaded him that the fleets
had sailed for Cadiz. Then follows a scene
which we will leave M. Thiers to describe.
It represents Bonaparte in the very worst light—a
tyrant, and even a tyrant to his intimate friends; a hypo.
critical deceiver, who knew that his admirals could not
accomplish impossibilities ; who covered his own defeat
at Boulogne by heaping upon them disgrace ; who made
their treachery and their cowardice, as he was pleased
to call their judicious and only safe measures, pretences
for breaking up the camp, and marching with his whole
army against Germany—schemes which he had already
prepared, aud'which he would have carried into effect
had even all his fleets ventured to obs•y his crders. But
we doubt if any such orders ever were given. Never
was a scene for effect better got up in France, but France
only, than the following :
" It was with deep grief, mingled with violent bursts of
anger, that Napoleon at length gave up all hope of seeing his '
fleet arrive in the Straits. Such was his irritation, that a
man for whom he entertained no ordinary friendship, the
learned Monge, who almost every morning made a very
military breakfast with him in the imperial hut on the tea
shore, Monge, on seeing him in that disposition, discreetly re-
tired, judging that his presence would be troublesome. He
went to M. Daru, then principal secretary at war, and told
him what he had seen. At the same instant M. Darn him•
self was called, and had to repair to the Emperor. He found
him agitated, talking to himself, and not seeming to perceive
the persons around him. Scarcely had M. Daru arrived, and
still stood silent and waiting for orders, when Napoleon went
up to him, and addressing him as if he had been acquainted
with everything, said, ' Do you know where Villeneuve is ?
He is at Cadiz 1' Then he launched out into long and fierce
invectives against the weakness and incapacity of all who
surrounded him, said that he was betrayed by the cowardice
of mankind, deplored the ruin of the most splendid, the most
secure of all the plans he had ever conceived in his life, and
displayed in all its bitterness the grief of genius abandoned
by fortune. Suddenly mastering his agitation, he all at once
calmed himself, and with a surprising facility recalling his
mind from those closed ways of the. ocean to the open roads
of the Continent, he dictated, for several hours in succession,
with art extraordinary precision and presence of mind, the
plan which will be given in the followint, book. It was the
plan of the immortal campaign of 1805. There was no
longer the slightest trace of irritation either in his voice or
in his countenance."

By the Author of

SOIREE IN THE BELFAST DIS-
TRICT LUNLVTL.; ASYLUM.. • .
(From the Northern Whig.) •
On Thursday evening last the annual soiree was given to
the patients in the Lunatic Asylum, by Dr. Stewart, whose
and effective system of management entitles him to
all praise.
On entering the apartments where the entertain-
ment was; given, and which were tastefully ornamented with
evergreens, and briantly lit, we were greatly struck with
the appearance which their inmates presented. There was
none of that violent .or outrageous conduct which we are apt
to associate with our- ideas of madness—on the contrary,
there was among all the patients, with but a single excep-
tion, a prevailing quietness of demeanour; and, but for the
occasional wil;:ness of their glance, •and the incoherency of
their expressions and conversation, one would never ima-
gine, for a moment, that they were other than sane men
and women.
In one of the apartments appropriated. to their use, on the
evening in question, at the end of which there was a plat-
form erected for the visitors, a considerable portion of whom
were ladies, there was a pianoforte and a violin; the latter
instrument was played, in' an astonishingly correct and ani-
mated manner,- by one of the patients, while a number of
others, male and female, joined in one of the Most. extraor-
dinary dances it was ever our lot to ivitness. 'lt would be
impossible to conceive anything more fantastic or outre than
their movements. One girl, with, a pair of shoulders like
a Hercules, performed a most remarkable summersault,
to the infinite amusement of the whole company. They 'all
seemed to enjoy- the exercise, and kept up the dance
with great spirit for a' considerable time, re:ieving each
other by turns.
In passing through the room adjoining that in which the
dancing was going on, we fell into conversation with one of
the patients, a keen-eyes, middle-aged' man, who was pos-
sessed with a wonderful idea of his own dignity and majestic
pretensions—" Do you know," said he, " what's all this
about ?—I cannot, for the life of me, conceive what all. those
ladies and gentlemen are doing in there ;-,but perhaps they're
fond of amusement, and they have come to see the dancing— '
that's just it. Maybe they are the Royal Family—:ah ! if',
they are, I'll speak to them. Do you know what it is—l
have been shamefully treated—l have been made. a prisoner
of wrongfully, by men who compassedl my defeat, knowing,
that if they thus secured me; my claims to the throne Would
be forgotten' and neglected. lam heir not only to the
throne of England, but to the thrones of France and Scot-
land. If I have said anything offensive to you, I hope you
will forgive me; but you know it is 'an exciting subject to
converse upon—to be heir, as I-am, to-thethroneS of Eng-
land, Scotland, and France, is a-matter of some importance
both to myielf and the nation at -larg,e ; and I certainly do
think, that if the public considered' my case with the atten-
tion and respect due 'to such a' proceeding 'of the State us
has involved me In ruin, and by which, as you see,. I have
been made a prisoner, . that immediate steps would be taken
by the Lord Chancellor, if he have any honesty in his soul,
to restore me to that position in society whiCh I once oc-
cupied. Ah ! here comes the Queen !" .-
• Just at this moment a' very Queen
girl, leahing on the
arm of a gentleman, approached.
"Alt, your Majesty! " cried the patient, " won't I have
your Majesty's gracious pardon ? Are not you the Queen
of England -
" Not exactly,' replied the lady, -
" Oh ! well, then, if you're hot the-Queen of England; you
must be the Queen of Spain. You laugl=there con be no
doubt of it—you are the Queen of the British Isles—your
Majesty, I kneel before you (kneeling down), I again entreat
your Majesty's smiles—l hope you won't forget the
ferment though. - The Prime Minister* as your Majesty
very well knows, 1s under deep obligations' to me : and
don't think I would be expecting too much, if I asked-you
-to make me an Admiral. Such an appointment I am' fully
entitled to; it would only be commensurate with the ser-
vices I have done to the State, leaving my pretensions to the
throne out of the question altogether. And your Majesty,
perhaps you may not be aware of the fact, but I can inform
you, that I have fought and bled in the cause of truth, and
in support of those principles which placed your Majesty,
and your royal ancestors, upon the throne of these realms.
Why, I should like to know, am Ito be kept here---it is a
very wearying kind of life, and my faithful subjects—God
knows what is to become of them in my absence I The Le-
gislature are imperatively called upon to investigate the mat-
ter, and that with the slightest possible delay."
At this particular place, the heir to the throne became very
incoherent; and, his attention having been caught by some
object, he rambled away from the group.
In a retired corner of the dancing-room, surrounded by a
number of the visitors, was an intelligent-looking man, who
had been for some time an inmate of the Asylum, reciting
an extraordinary piece of composition. ' This man was a
poet, and the verses were his own. He dwelt upon those
passages which he himself admired, with great emphasis;
and was evidently highly gratified with the applause of his
auditory.
Opposite the poet, in another corner of the room, was a
patient, who, we were informed, had been a graduate in
Trinity- College, Dublin. He was a man of quiet demeanour,
and, judging from his conversation, which was plentifully
interlarded, with quotations from the Greek and Latin Fa-
thers, a scholar of no mean pretensions. He gave some long
passages from the " First Book of the iEneid," but could
not commence with the words of the poet, till he had gone
over the four lines of doubtful parentage which precede that
exquisite production. He afterwards recited some of the
most striking passages from "illomer's Iliad," dwelling, With.
rapt and solemn air, upon the sonorous and grand sounding
syllables of the magnificent Greek. 'He said he delighted
in the Greek tragedies above all other writings—there were a
loftiness of sentiment, and - a dignity' to be found in !them,
for which, in other compositions, we looked in vain. • The
-Latin playwright Terence was the only one who at all ap-
proached those inimitable writers in spirit, and grandeur of
conception.
Leaving the classical enthusiast, we came upon an old
Armagh choir man, who was seated at the piano, thundering
away, with the most exemplary perseverance, at " God save
the Queen." He afterwards played some snatches from the
antique Cathedral services of the seventeenth century; and
' a minor chant of Dr. Woodward's. He had quite the organ
style and touch, and had, evidently, been accustomed to that
instrument. It seemed to s, Chat he imagined lie was
seated-at the organ, from the peculiar way in 'which he
shifted, in the fingering, and' the sustaining effect be gave
the music, by his manner of grasping the chords. One of
the visitors afterwards played for him the College Chant, and
Dr. Battishill's in E. "Ah," said the patient to him, when_
he had done, "you're not so goad a player now as when you
were organist of St. Patrick's I"
The dancing and amusements were kept up till ten o'clock,
the utmost harmony and good-humour prevailing among the
patients; and the visitors shortly afterwards departed, pleased
with, and astonished at, the entertainment they had been
spectators of.
We cannot conclude without expressing our warm admi—
ration of the benevolent and excellent system which has been
adopted by Dr. Stewart towards his patients, with such signal
success. The harshness and cruelty of the old mode-of treat-
ment are, in this valuable institution,, entirely done away
with ; and the freedom from personal restraint enjoyed by the
patients, so far from being an evil, has been attended by the
most beneficial results.
The following composition was taken down, from the dic-
tation of the poet mentioned in the foregoing sketch, and
sung by him before several of the faculty, who were present
on the occasion

SONG.
THE VILLAGE BARBER TURNED QUACK DOCTOR.
A village barber born and bred.
(I trimmed them in a minute),
Made something of t'outside the head,
Though there was nothing in it ;
I learned to bleed, and stumps to draw;
But ne'er lock-jawed the Proctor;
So up to London went, 0 la!
And set up for a Doctor !

•
SlN:mug—But I couldn't forget my old trade of periwig-
making, so I depended all upon puff—cured patients that I
never saw, and killed all that .I did see; so, to prevent ac-
cidents, I invented a new medicine, that would neither kill
nor cure—got a patent for it—cured their purses of a ple-
thora, and my own of a galloping consumption ! But the
main chance was my maxim and motto, so I drove along in
the capacity of a
Quack, quack, fol- de-rol diddle-lal-de-daddi 0 !
Quack, quack, &c.
My patient knew as well as I ;
And, so the way I nicked them,
Was let them live or let them die,
I'd never contradict them •
Whate'er they fancied, that tried—
If cured, my skill was shown, Sir;
But if, as oft it proved, they died,
The fault was all their own, Sir,

SPOKEN.—Patient—Doctor, I'm very ill. Doctor—Let me
feel your pulse—put out your tongue; ah ! your complaint's
a polyphosbia, as we say—vulgarly. a diascordium of the
biliary duct. Patient—Duck, Doctor? I believe it was a
wild duck did me all the mischief. Doctor—Well, well;
we'll soon tame the wild duck—you shall have a narcotic, a
cathartic, a sporific, and a sudorific. Patient—Soap and
suds, Doctor? I'll never be able to swallow them. Doctor—
Well, then, you shall have an anodyne. Patient-0 yes; I
should like to dine--pray, Doctor, what may I eat? Doctor
—Well, what do you like best? Patient—l likes goose and
gravy soup, Sir. Doctor—have them, by all means—no-
thing's so good for the bile as goose and gravy soup; but
avoid a wild duck as you would a
Quack, quack, fol-de-rol, &c.
At last I published, through the town,
My patent, simple sirrup,
My name got up, and then went down,
And made a pretty stir-up.
I said, in all complaints 'twas sure
The worst of ills to smother, -
And so it was, for it would cure
One just as well as t'other.

SPOKEN.-Oh, it was a charming composition : sugar,
vinegar, mustard, and magnesia—sweet, sour, hot, and cold.
If that was not calculated for all cures, I don't know what
was. However, the medicine took whilst they took the me-
dicine ; and I took the 'money, so somebody was the better
for it. The patent proved its utility, and the stamp duty
service to the State. The physicians fretted, the surgeons
were in a stew, and the apothecaries in a big passion. But a
fig for the faculty, say I ; while in the stream of popularity,
I drove on a swimming trade, which is very naturalfor Ducks
that swim over the water !