408 Notes of the Month on [ApRIL, 
once, with as indignant a face, and as patient a spirit, as any gentleman 
within the bills of mortality. 
What! after he had made up his mind to the pleasant receipt of 
30,000/. a year, for the next half dozen years? After having taken over 
his bulls and calves, his promising young Lord Toms and Harrys, his 
poultry and pigs, his Lady Aramintas and J uliettas, and prepared to 
distribute them in holy matrimony among the lords of the bogs; after 
he had even removed his last treasure, the late wife of the Duke of 
Wellington’s brother, now gazetted Marchioness ; after he had familia- 
rized himself to Irish patriotism in the shape of Jack Lawless, and 
revelled in a long vista of the annual raptures of Donnybrook Fair—to 
be routed from his position, ordered to march without beat of drum ; to 
return instantly by steam-boat, and deposit’his three months’ truncheon 
on the desk of the horseguards? All this was enough to try the patience 
of a saint, to make a hussar twirl his moustachios to the topmost curl of 
indignation, to raise the stones in mutiny ; and fiercely did the dethroned 
hussar threaten—we will do him that justice ; his parting correspon- 
dence with Dr. Curtis, that venerable personage who was destined to 
hold in his portfolio, at once, the secret souls of the Duke and the Mar- 
quis, was full enough of the wonders that he would do. His honour was 
to be plucked up, though by the locks, from the bottom of the deep, or 
brought down from the “ bright-faced moon.” ; 
He arrived at last; and we expected to see vengeance let loose in her 
most terrific form, the hussar in full charge on the prostrate Duke ; 
nothing but fiery tropes, and metaphors of oil of vitriol, thoughts that 
blast, and words that turn the culprit into tinder. 
On the contrary, not a syllable was uttered; the dethroned monarch 
took his stool at the foot of the dethroner with the most exemplary tran- 
guillity ; not a word was suffered to escape on the “unexampled wrongs” 
that had pulled him out of his sovereignty—the babe untimely plucked 
from the womb of that parturient parent of grievances, the teeming 
Sister Isle. There sat the Marquis, and there sat the Duke, calm and 
fond, as two kings of Brentford “smelling at one nosegay.” Nobody 
knows till this minute anything of the matter of dismissal ; nobody has 
heard of the remonstrance—nobody knows more than the O’Connells, 
and other infallibles of the day, whether any offence was given, or how 
much was swallowed. The Marquis sits silent, smiling and contented, 
and why the deuce should not we? 
The French papers have gathered up the anecdotes of those -public 
personages, Hare and Burke, and are making very gay paragraphs out of ~ 
them for the terror of all the female world. They, however, acknowledge 
our superior facility of invention, and commemorate our skill. The 
English, they tell us, are all turned Burkites. The word “to Burke,” 
has become a word of science ; and the disappearance of any individual 
from his general round of society is regularly accounted for on the prin- 
ciple of Burkeism. 
If a member of parliament shrink from a meeting with his consti- 
tuents, and take wing for the Continent, he is declared to have under- 
gone the hands of some active assistant to mortality, and to be now doing 
more good by exhibiting his proportions in the surgeon’s hall, than he 
could have done in his whole life-time. If a gentleman of peculiar ele- 
gance of dress has found it inconvenient to pay his tailor, and wishes to 
