1829.) Affairs in-General, 527 
Nowe, gentles, shoulde I not live longe, 
Yet maye I see ye die; 
: With prayerre fulle shorte, and rope fulle stronge, 
; And plentye of companye. 
_ It is the duty of all who desire that the understandings of the supreme 
classes should be held in honour, to lose no opportunity of giving them 
that public fame to which they are so fully entitled. We have no doubt, 
such is the proverbial innocence, modesty, and reserve of high life, that 
many of those who shall yet figure in our pages, will be utterly as- 
tonished to find themselves forced into this involuntary distinction, for 
any thing wise or witty since their cradle; and the astonishment is not 
unlikely to be shared by a large circle of their acquaintances. However, 
-we have a duty to do which shall be done, as the orators say, with an 
impartiality of the most conscientious kind, imperturbable by any thing 
that might move a less delicate integrity than that of a member of parlia- 
ment. But “ revenons a nos moutons,” or, in plain English, let us come 
to our Lords. 
Lord G— ’s account of his own susceptibility, as touching oaths, 
is admirable for its naiveté. “ I think that the oath against the practises 
of popery is a very hard oath. I must say I never took a more disagree- 
able one.” 
But another noble Lord, whose name we equally regret to suppress, 
was finer still. In fact,” said this conscientious person, “ the oaths that 
a member is compelled to take, are so obnoxious, that I have always felt 
it my duty to forget them as soon as possible.” 
The Episcopal distinction between idolater and idolatrous is equal to 
any thing since the days of “Drunken Barnaby’s Journey.”—“ The 
church of Rome is idolatrous.” This is the language of the church of 
England, to which the pledge is given. But idolatrows means—only 
“having a tendency to idolatry”—for which see Johnson’s Dictionary ! 
ha, ha, ha. Bravo, my Lord, Peel-tutor, Regius Professor. Thus John 
Bull, which said of a Regius Professor that he was a voracious fellow, and 
not to be trusted at a city feast, meant not that he was a regular glutton, 
but that he had a tendency to overload his Gisophagus with eel-pie and 
champagne. Thus a ratting bishop has only a tendency to turn his 
cassock. Thus an adulterous Marchioness has only a tendency to add to 
the carneous thickness of her old Marquis’s forehead. Thus a sanctimo- 
nious hypocrite, eternally haranguing on the purity of his super-evange- 
lical soul, has only a tendency to cheat the world with his up-turned 
eyes, while his hand is picking their pockets. Thus a mendaciows, and 
time-serving wretch, no matter in what kind of gown he thinks to laugh 
at the honest part of mankind, is not a liar and a slave, a solemn beast 
in whom the truth is not, but a delicate gentleman, with a tendency to 
mendacity. Thus every thing rascally is every thing right, and slaves 
may say black is white, and strangle the language at their pleasure. 
Mr. Burford has struck into a new line of Panorama, which does 
credit to his invention. He has given his compatriots a view of hell, 
not the real hell of Crockford’s, or his competitors in the trade of 
exchanging capital, but of the visionary hell of Milton. The moment 
chosen is when Pandemonium is in the condition of the Nash palace, 
excepting that the Pandemonium seems capable of being inhabited at 
some time or other; which, from our souls we aver, we think its 
