He shan't by me, for one, be hindered Back to the convent of his youth, Sojourn of innocence and truth, Sails the green monster, scorned and hated, Must I tell how, on his return, He scandalised his oil sojourn ? And how the guardians of his infancy Wept o'er their quondam child's delinquency? What could be done? the elders often Met to consult how best to soften This obdurate and hardened sinner, Thought "it was best the bird to smother!" 470 48C Back to his native land-the colonies." But milder views prevailed. His rentence 490 Was, that, until he shewed repentance, Ugly as sin, bad-tempered, jealous, A jug of water and a carrot Was all the prog she'd give the parrot: But every eve when vesper-bell Called sister Rosalie from her cell, She to Vert-Vert would gain admittance, And bring of "comfits" a sweet pittance. 500 * Implicat in terminis. There must have been a beginning, eise how conceive a finish (see Kant), unless tue proposition of Ocellus Lucanus be adopted, viz. αναρχον και ατελευταίον το παν. Gresset simply has it "Il fut un scélé.at Profès d'abord, et sans noviciat." Comfits! alas! can sweet confections Though crammed with richest sweetmeats, sulks. Taught by his gaoler and adversity, The prodigal, reclaimed and free, And gave more joy, by works and words, Until his death. Which last disaster 510 520 But from a short life, and a merry, * This author appears to have been a favourite with Prout, who takes every opportunity of recording his predilection (vide pages 6 and 181). Had the Order, however, produced only such writers as Cornelius, we fear there would have been little mention of the Jesuits in connexion with literature. Gresset's opinion on the matter is contained in an epistle to his enfrère P. Boujeant, author of the ingenious treatise Sur l'Ame des Bétes (see p. 295) :: Moins révérend qu'aimable père, Et les airs, ne sont point montés De cent tristes paternités, Affichent la séverité; Et ne sortant de leur tanière Proving, with commentary droll, The transmigration of the soul), That still Vert-Vert this earth doth haunt, And that, gay novices among, He dwells, transformed into a tongue! 540 No. VII. THE SONGS OF FRANCE. ON WINE, WAR, WOMEN, WOODEN SHOES, FROGS, AND FREE TRADE. CHAPTER I.-WINE AND WAR. "Favete linguis! Carmina non priùs Virginibus puerisque canto." PHILOSOPHY, HOR. Carmen Sæculare. "With many a foreign author grappling, Songs for the boys' of after-ages." THAT illustrious utilitarian, Dr. Bowring, the knight-errant of free trade, who is allowed to circulate just now without a keeper through the cities of France, will be in high glee at this October manifestation of Prout's wisdom. The Doctor hath found a kindred soul in the Priest. To promote the interchange of national commodities, to cause a blending and a chemical fusion of their mutual produce, and establish an equilibrium between our negative and their positive electricity; such appears to be the sublime aspiration of both these learned pundits. But the beneficial re sults attendant on the efforts of each are widely dissimilar. Both Arcadians, they are not equally successful in the rivalry of song. We have to record nothing of Dr. Bowring in the way of acquirement to this country; we have gained nothing by his labours: our cottons, our iron, our woollens, and our coals, are still without a passport to France; while in certain home-trades, brought by his calculations into direct competition with the emancipated French, we have encountered a loss on our side to the tune of a few millions. Not so with the exertions of Prout: he has enriched England at the expense of her rival, and engrafted on our literature the choicest productions of Gallic culture. Silently and unostentatiously, on the bleak top of Watergrasshill, he has succeeded in naturalising these foreign vegetables, associating himself in the gratitude of posterity with the planter of the potato. The inhabitants of these islands may now, thanks to Prout! sing or whistle the "Songs of France, duty free, in their vernacular language; a vastly important acquisition! The beautiful tunes of the “Cà ira” and "Charmante Gabrielle" will become familiarised to our dull ears; instead of the vulgar "Peas upon a trencher,” we shall enjoy that barrel-organ luxury of France, “Partant pour la Syrie;" and for "The Minstrel Boy to the wars is gone," we shall have the original, "Malbroock s'en va-t-en guerre.' What can be imagined more calculated to establish an harmonious understanding between the two nations, than this attempt of a benevolent clergyman to join them in a hearty chorus of common melody? a grand "duo," composed of pass and tenor, the roaring of the bull and the croaking of the frog? To return to Bowring. Commissions of inquiry are the order of the day; but some travelling "notes of interrogation are so misshapen and grotesque, that the response or result is but a roar of laughter. This doctor, we perceive, is now the hero of every dinner of every " Chambre de Commerce;" his toasts and his speeches in Norman French are, we are told, the ne plus ultra of comic performance, towards the close of each banquet. He is now in Burgundy, an industrious labourer in the vineyard of his commission; and enjoys such particular advantages, that Brougham from his woolsack is said to cast a jealous eye on his missionary's department; "invidiâ rumpantur ut ilia Codri." The whole affair exhibits that sad mixture of imbecility and ostentation too perceptible in all the doings of Utilitarianism. Of |