His Imperial Majesty Prince Despotism, in a consumption, to Her Supreme Antiquity, The Ignorance of Eighteen Centuries, in a decline. The bridal dresses were most superb. DEATH. His most Sacred Majesty Right Divine. His Legitimacy being declared illegitimate, he has no successor. He was the founder of the Oily Alliance and a sincere Priestian. Printed by and for W. Hone, 43, Ludgate Hill, London. {249} [Illustration: 257] A POLITICAL CHRISTMAS CAROL, TO BE CHAUNTED OR SUNG THROUGHOUT THE UNITED KINGDOM AND THE DOMINIONS BEYOND THE SEAS, BY ALL PERSONS THEREUNTO ESPECIALLY MOVED. {250} [Illustration: 258] THE CAROL. To be Sung exactly as set. He 'turn'd his back upon himself And straight to 'Lunnun' came, To two two-sided Lawyers With tidings of the same, That our own land must 'prostrate stand' Unless we praise his name-- For his practical' comfort and joy! "Go fear not," said his L-p "Let nothing you affright; "Go draw your quills, and draw six Bills, "Put out yon blaze of light: "I'm able to advance you, "Go stamp it out then quite-- "And give me some 'features' of joy!" {251} The Lawyers at those tidings Rejoiced much in mind, And left their friends a-staring To go and raise the wind, And straight went to the Taxing-men And said "the Bills come find-- "For 'fundamental' comfort and joy! The Lawyers found majorities To do as they did say, They found them at their mangers Like oxen at their hay, Some lying, and some kneeling down, All to L--d C--h For his practical' comfort and joy! With sudden joy and gladness Rat G--ff--d was beguiled, They each sat at his L-p's side, He patted them and smiled; Yet C--pi--y, on his nether end, Sat like a new born Child,-- But without either comfort or joy! He thought upon his Father, His virtues and his fame, And how that father hoped from him For glory to his name, And as his chin dropp'd on his breast, His pale cheeks burn'd with shame:-- He'll never more know comfort or joy! {252} Lord C----h cloth rule yon House, And all who there do reign; They've let us live this Christmas time--- D'ye think they will again? They say they are our masters-- That's neither here, nor there: God send us all a happy new year! [Illustration: 260] {253} [Illustration: 261] THE DOCTOR A PARODY WRITTEN BY THE RIGHT HONORABLE GEORGE CANNING, M. P.