"... Fielding met his bunter Muse, And, as they quaff'd the fiery juice, Droll Nature stamp'd each lucky hit With unimaginable wit." Bunter was a cant word for a woman who picks up rags about the street; and it may seem to later generations that the epithet fitted far more nicely the _bunter muse_ of that "facile retailer of _ana_ and incorrigible society-gossip," that rag-picker of anecdotes, Mr. Horace Walpole himself. When the _Journal_ had been running some six months, Fielding formally relinquished his ironic character of a Jacobite, partly because, as he says, the evils of Jacobitism were too serious for jesting and required more open denunciation; partly because the age required more highly seasoned writing, the general taste in reading very much resembling "that of some particular Man in eating who would never willingly devour what doth not stink"; and partly from the ineptitude of the public to appreciate the ironic method. This latter passage is of interest as coming from the author of that great masterpiece in irony, _Jonathan Wild_. Fielding has observed, he tells us that "though Irony is capable of furnishing the most exquisite Ridicule; yet as there is no kind of humour so liable to be mistaken it is of all others the most dangerous to the Writer. An infinite Number of Readers have not the least taste or relish for it, I believe I may say do not understand it; and all are apt to be tired when it is carried to any degree of Length." The _Jacobite's Journal_ is of course mainly occupied with maintaining the Protestant British Constitution; but here, as in the _True Patriot_, Fielding allows himself a pleasant running commentary on the daily news. He also erects a _Court of Criticism_ in which, by virtue of his "high Censorial Office," he administers justice in "all matters in the Republic of Literature." By thus adopting the title of "Censor of Great Britain" the editor of the _Jacobites Journal_ preserves his identity with that censorial _Champion_ who nine years before had essayed to keep rogues in fear of his Hercules' club. Two judgments delivered by the _Court_ are of interest. In one, due castigation is given to that incorrigible mimic and wit Foote, who was once threatened by no less a cudgel than that of Dr. Johnson himself. Foote was evading all law and order by his inimitable mimicries at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket; and for these performances at his "scandal-shop" is very properly brought up before Mr. Censor's _Court_. Whereupon Foote begins to mimic the _Court_ "pulling a Chew of Tobacco from his Mouth, in Imitation of his Honour who is greatly fond of that weed." The culprit suffers conviction for crime against law and good manners. Having thus seen to the public welfare, Fielding also happily settles a little score of his own on one of his anonymous libellers. "One Porcupine Pillage," he records, "came into the court and threw a great shovelful of dirt at his honour, _but luckily none of it hit