ROMANISM IN LONDON-A PRIESTS CONFESSION-Price Twopence !! Wel. that is quite possible, "At night the sentinels close round Longwood itself. Nel. That I should say, messmate, to him must have been— "The unkindest cut of all." the very sight of your red coats must have made him "sick at heart". Wel. There is no doubt they did excite painful feelings, to him they were certainly something more than a guard of honour. Nel. I suppose you thought his honour wanted guarding, I expect if you had only given him half a chance he would have given you the slip. Wel. That no doubt was the impression, many Naval officers on their passage to India were introduced to him, British ships and British seamen he spoke of in high terms of praise. Nel. You had not then come to steam ships. Wel. Just so, Nelson, the time was not yet come, but as a celebrated comic writer observed "come it will, when the masts of our Royal Navy shall be unshipped, and huge unsightly chimneys be erected in their place, the trident will be taken out of the hand of Neptune, and replaced by the effigy of a red hot poker, the Union Jack will look like a Smoke Jack, and Lambton's, Russell's and Adams's, will be made Admirals of the black. Nel. Capital! capital! Wel. "The Forecastle will be called the Newcastle, and the Cock-pit will be termed the Coal-pit, a man of Wars Tender will be nothing but a Shields collier, first Lieutenants will have to attend lectures on the steam-engine, and midshipmen must take lessons as climbing boys in the art of sweeping flues. Nel. Go it! Wel. "In short the good old tune of "Rule Britannia” will give way to "Polly put the Kettle on," while the Victory— Nel. Oh! Wel. The Majestic, and the Thunderer of Great Britain will "paddle in the burn," like the Harlequin, the Dart, and the Magnet of Margate. "It will be well for our song writers to bear a weary eye to the fleet, if they would prosper as Marine Poets; some sea Gurney may get a seat at the Admiralty board, and then farewell, a long farewell, to the old ocean imagery; Marine Metaphor will require a new figure head. Nel. Bravo! Wel. Flowing sheets, snowy wings, and the old comparison of a ship to a bird will become obsolete and out of date; poetical topsails will be taken aback, and all such things as reefs and double reefs will be shaken out of song. Nel. That fellow was first rate. Bear on, bear on. Wel. "For my own part I cannot be sufficiently thankful that I have not sought a Helicon of salt water, or canvassed the nine muses as a writer for their Marine library, or made Pegasus a sea horse, when sea horses as well as land horses are equally likely to be superseded by steam. Nel. Excellent! excellent! Wel. "After such a consummation, when the sea service, like the tea service, will depend chiefly on the boiling water, it is very doubtful whether the fleet will be worthy of anything but plain prosc. Nel. Hear! hear! Wel. "I have tried to adapt some of our popular blue ballads to the boiler, and Dibdin Nel. God bless him. Wel. Certainly does not steam quite so well as a potatoe; however if his sea songs are to be in immortal use, they will have to be revised in future editions, thus." And then the author gives the steam song. The brillant, and incomparable Hood. (To be continued.) ROMANISM IN LONDON-A PRIESTS CONFESSION-Price Twopence!! VOICE FROM THE TOMB! A DIALOGUE BETWEEN NELSON AND WELLINGTON, OVERHEARD AT ST. PAUL'S. THIRTEENTH PART. LONDON: D. FATTIE, CHRISTOPHER COURT, ST. MARTINS-LE-GRAND, AND BOLD BY M. A. PATTIE, 110, SHOK LANE, FLEET STREET. PRICE ONE PENNY. A VOICE FROM THE TOMB, A DIALOGUE BETWEEN NELSON & WELLINGTON, OVERHEARD AT ST. PAUL'S. Nelson. Give it me, messmate, I must hear it. Nel. When the Dean and Chapter ceases to make St. Paul's a "Puppet Though the tempest our chimney smack smooth shall down smite, And shiver each bundle of wood Clear the wreck, stir the fire, and stow everything tight, And boiling a gallop we'll scud." The Author then remarks-"I have cooked Stevens's, or rather Incledon's Storm, iu the same way; but the pathos does not seem any the tenderer for stewing. Nel. That fellow is a first-rate wit; pray go on. Wel. You must excuse blunders. "Hark, the boatswain hoarsely bawling, By shovel, tongs, and poker stand; Now unto the coal-hole go; Stir, boys, stir, don't mind black faces, Ply your bellows, raise the wind, boys, Oil the engines, see all clear; Now, the dreadful thunder's roaring, All above one smoke-black sky; The funnel's gone, cries every tongue out, While o'er the ship wild waves are beating, The fire is out-we've burst the bellows- For only that can serve us now. The author then remarks- Devoutly do I hope the kettle, though a great vocalist, will eever thus appropriate the old sea songs, in the words of an old Greenwich pensioner-" Steaming and biling does very well for Urn Bay and the likes;" but the craft does not look regular and ship shape to the eye of a tar, who has sailed with Nelson, Duncan, and Jarvis, and who would rather even go without port, than have it through a funnel.” Nel. I comprehend the joke, messmate, the fellow who could spin a yarn like that deserves a statue. Wel. And just before I was yoked to Smith's twelve dray horses, a subscription was getting up for the purpose of erecting a monument to the memory of the author THOMAS HOOD, a man whose and humour had no rival, and what is still better, Nelson, he gave his talent to the cause of the poor and oppressed needle women, whom the infamous slop-sellers of London are grinding to the earth, by compelling them to make shirts for three-farthings each, and waistcoats for three-half-pence. Nel. The scoundrels! Wel A Jew, and a fellow who calls himself a Christian, are making great efforts to monopolise the whole trade of the metropolis by puffing off their rubbish, and just before I left the earth, the Christian actually sent me a circular, soliciting an order. Nel. An order to receive 500 lashes! would have been an act of justice. I dare say, messmate, you have often give an order for a fellow to receive that who did not deserve it a thousandth part so much as this Christian slopseller. Wel. Nelson, I confess I have Nel. The Most High, Mighty, and most Noble Prince, Duke of Wellington enveloped in a slop-suit, would not seem a proper fit for a Marshal of a halfdozen countries, and Chancellor of the University of Oxford, set aside lending yourself to grind down the wretched female waistcoat maker. Wel. Truly so; I must have refused this slop-seller, an order, on the same principle Lady Holland was advised to refuse a snuff-box presented to her by Buonaparte, that it "Was stained with gore,'' and the slop-suit of the Christian puffer, if not "stained with gore," would certainly have been wetted with the tears of the miserable, and badly-paid needlewoman. Nel. Good, messmate; I understand. I dare say this slopselling scoundrel would have made it a great point of rigging-out the Hero of Waterloo. Wel. Very possible-but I wouldn't give him the chance. Nel. Did you say that Buonaparte presented Lady Holland with a snuffbox? Wel. He did; and some one prayed her ladyship not to accept it, for the reason I just told you. Nel. And did she accept it? Wel. Yes; your favourite Lord Byron addressed some witty lines to her ladyship in reply, to the request made to her, not to accept it. Nel. Did Byron, pray let me hear them. Wel. I think this is something like it—but remember, Nelson, I will not vouch for its accuracy "Lady, accept the gift, a hero wore, In spite of this elegiac stuff, Nor let a stanza, written by a bore, Prevent your ladyship from taking snuff." Nel. From what you have told me, Byron was a great admirer of Buonaparte. I should say, messmate, as a poet, he was rated A 1. Wel. He was; he ranked high as a poet, and Buonaparte had certainly not a more zealous advocate. When strangers of eminence (generally officers on their way to or from India,) halted at St. Helena, requested and obtained permission to pay their respects at Longwood, Napoleon received them, for the most part, with the ease and dignity of a man superior to adversity. It was by these worthier exhibitions that the fallen Emperor extracted the following eulogy from Lord Byrop |