The "learn'd Theban's" discourse next as livelily

flow'd on,

To sketch t'other wonder, the' Aristocratodon -
An animal, differing from most human creatures
Not so much in speech, inward structure, or
features,

As in having a certain excrescence, T. said,

Which in form of a coronet grew from its head,

And devolv'd to its heirs, when the creature was

dead;

Nor matter'd it, while this heir-loom was trans

mitted,

How unfit were the heads, so the coronet fitted.

He then mention'd a strange zoological fact,
Whose announcement appear'd much applause to

attract.

In France, said the learned professor, this race
Had so noxious become, in some centuries' space,
From their numbers and strength, that the land was
o'errun with 'em,

Every one's question being, "What's to be done with 'em?"

When, lo! certain knowing ones—savans, mayhap, Who, like Buckland's deep followers, understood trap*,

Slily hinted that nought upon earth was so good
For Aristocratodons, when rampant and rude,
As to stop, or curtail, their allowance of food.
This expedient was tried, and a proof it affords
Of the' effect that short commons will have upon

lords;

For this whole race of bipeds, one fine summer's morn, Shed their coronets, just as a deer sheds his horn, And the moment these gewgaws fell off, they became Quite a new sort of creature- so harmless and tame, That zoologists might, for the first time, maintain 'em To be near akin to the genus humanum,

And the' experiment, tried so successfully then, Should be kept in remembrance, when wanted again.

*

* Particularly the formation called Transition Trap.

SONGS OF THE CHURCH.

No 1.

LEAVE ME ALONE.

A PASTORAL BALLAD.

"We are ever standing on the defensive. All that we say to them is, 'leave us alone.' The Established Church is part and parcel of the constitution of this country. You are bound to conform to this constitution. We ask of you nothing more;-let us alone."- Letter in The Times, Nov. 1838.

1838.

COME, list to my pastoral tones,

In clover my shepherds I keep;

My stalls are well furnish'd with drones,
Whose preaching invites one to sleep.
At my spirit let infidels scoff,

So they leave but the substance my own;
For, in sooth, I'm extremely well off,

If the world will but let me alone.

Dissenters are grumblers, we know ;-
Though excellent men, in their way,

They never like things to be so,

Let things be however they may.

But dissenting's a trick I detest;

And, besides, 'tis an axiom well known,
The creed that's best paid is the best,
If the unpaid would let it alone.

To me, I own, very surprising

Your Newmans and Puseys all seem,
Who start first with rationalizing,
Then jump to the other extreme.
Far better, 'twixt nonsense and sense,

A nice half-way concern, like our own,
Where piety's mix'd up with pence,

And the latter are ne'er left alone.

Of all our tormentors, the Press is
The one that most tears us to bits;
And now, Mrs. Woolfrey's "excesses,"

Have thrown all its imps into fits.
The dev'ls have been at us, for weeks,

And there's no saying when they'll have done;

Oh dear, how I wish Mr. Breeks

Had left Mrs. Woolfrey alone!

'Tis those to whom post-obits fall; Since wisely hath Solomon said,

'Tis "money that answereth all."

But ours be the patrons who live ;

For, once in their glebe they are thrown, The dead have no living to give,

And therefore we leave them alone.

Though in morals we may not excel,
Such perfection is rare to be had;
A good life is, of course, very well,
But good living is also not bad.
And when, to feed earth-worms, I go,

Let this epitaph stare from my stone, "Here lies the Right Rev. so and so;

"Pass, stranger, and-leave him alone."