To a pipe of tobacco, Victa tabaco, And plenty of sack, O, Victaque Baccho, Passions and flames knock under; Flamma mi fit moribunda; I’m hasty and heady Ebrius dedi With lots of the deady; Venerem et te Diabolo, Hang thyself, Rosamunda! Rosamunda. I trust this sample will be sufficient to convince you that when I turn my talents to the monkish style which the author above alluded to has chosen I shall come very little behind my prototype. For the present, however, I have judged that the metres of antiquity are more classical, and consequently more worthy of a place in the _Etonian_. With regard to the poem itself, it is not, I believe, generally understood that Looney, the hero of it, is the descendant of the celebrated Phelim MacTwolter, who, in the year 1750 A.D., fought that celebrated pugilistic encounter with Patrick MacNevis, which is the subject of admiration and encomium in the sporting circles of Carrickfergus. It is gratifying to me to be able to notice this genuine son of Hibernia, because the Boxiana of modern criticism, dwelling with delight upon the minor glories of a Corcoran, a Randall, or a Donnelly, have by some strange neglect omitted all mention of the surpassing brilliancy of the merits of Phelim MacTwolter. This is the more remarkable as the above-mentioned fight was made the subject of a stanzaic heroic poem, remarkable for the animation and geniality which is preserved throughout. MacNevis, who it seems was little better than a braggadocio, gave the challenge. This is described with great force and simplicity. The landlord’s daughter of the Shamrock public-house, who is said to have had a penchant for little Phelim, had been boasting of her lover’s pugilistic fame. MacNevis leaped up from his seat, Surgebat MacNevisius, And made his bow and told her, Et mox jactabat ultro, “Kathleen, I’ll fight for your dear sake “Pugnabo tui gratiâ Along with fierce MacTwolter.” Cum fero MacTuoltro.” Does not this remind us strongly of Homer’s Paris? Ἀυτὰρ ἔμ’ ἐν μέσσῳ καὶ άρηίφιλον Μενέλαον Συμβάλετ’, ἀμφ’ Ἑλένῃ καὶ κτήμασι πᾶσι μάχεσθαι. The address of MacNevis to his antagonist upon meeting him in the ring is conceived in the same style of ferocious grandeur. He sees him applying himself to the bottle, and exclaims-- While you can see blue ruin, joy! Frater, dum tibi manet lux, Pull deeper yet and deeper; Bibe ruinæ poculum: By George! you shall return from hence, Redibis hinc, per Georgium! Without an open peeper. Utrumque cassus oculum. Observe that the expression “blue ruin” is very poetical, but my version of it is also prophetical--a charm unknown to the original. Phelim’s reply is beautiful--