[12]“Mr. President,--From the look of virtuous indignation with which the honourable gentleman arose from his seat, I expected to have heard something worthy of a Blair or a Benson, a Confucius or a Nebuchadnezzar; but lo! when my hopes were wrought up to the highest pitch, the honourable gentleman has suddenly reseated himself, and I do not even understand the purport of his sudden ebullition. Once upon a time a sudden darkness overspread the town of Ching-Chong-Foo; the sun and the moon and the stars were hidden, all business was suspended, all hearts were astounded. The mathematician Sing-Su said it was an eclipse; the Bishop Chit-Quong said it was the Devil; and the Chancellor Hum-lum said that he doubted: when suddenly there flew down from the skies, extending his wings over all the city, a stupendous cock; he soared majestically down--sullenly--slowly; and when they expected from him the voice of Azrael the Destroyer, or the Mandate of Mahomet the Prophet, he said--nothing, Mr. President, but Cock-a-doodle-doo!” “Why the devil do you laugh?”--“Laugh! why because it’s all Indian Stories, Damn the Tories, None but he can rule the State, Wise magicians, Politicians, Foreign lands, Kings and wands, Fiends and fairies, Dromedaries, Laugh at Boodle’s, Cock-a-doodles-- How I love a loud debate!” Then up gets a youth with a visage of truth, An omen of good to our islands, Who promises health and abundance of wealth To our Oatlands, and Wheatlands, and Ryelands. [13]“Mr. President,--I had not intended to address you on the present question; but some observations which have been made on the character of George the Third prevent me from remaining silent. If I use any strong expressions, I trust they will be attributed to the violence of my feelings.” (Refers to a paper.) “When I remember, Sir, that in the reign of George the Third the purest blessings of Heaven were shed upon us, and that Mr. Pitt was Prime Minister; that the powers of darkness were scattered before us, and that the combined fleets of France and Spain were defeated--above all, when I reflect that all the nine Muses migrated from Pindus to England, and that Mr. Southey was the Poet Laureate--I cannot help saying that George the Third, who reigned so gloriously, and lived to an advanced period of life, was very wise, very prudent, and very triumphant. In short, Sir, I do not fear to affirm that he was very good.” And the honourable gentleman halts as systematically as a posthorse knocked up or a timepiece run down. “Very perfect in his lesson!”--“Oh, very! but it’s all