_April 5, 1811._ _The Last Drop._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--A short and corpulent _bon-vivant_, not unlike a balloon in figure, whose waistband has been abnormally distended by the bibulous propensities of the owner, is standing on tiptoe tilting up to his eager lips a huge punchbowl, too well filled to be lifted bodily; he is transferring the contents to his own inside with much gusto. While the veteran and inordinate toper is greedily engulfing his last bumping measure he is too busily engaged in the important work in hand to notice that _Death_, in his bony personality as a ghastly skeleton, is helping to raise the finishing bowl, while the fatal dart is poised over his head, ready for the stroke which will follow this last potation before the tippler has time to recover his breath. The stout gentleman has evidently enjoyed a lengthy innings, and, from the instances scattered about him, he has made the most of his opportunities; he is surrounded by the remnants of the good and bad things with which he has made away--barrels of stout, bottles of port, puncheons of _usquebaugh_, and spirits of all sorts; in fact, a very cellar of the strong drinks which in his day have fallen to the share of the departing toper. _April 9, 1811._ _Boney the Second, or the Little Baboon Created to Devour French Monkeys._ Published by T. Tegg.--'Boneyparte,' in his general's uniform, is seated before the fire, making caudle--of French blood--for the infant prince; a row of sovereign-crowns, wrested from the wearers, are ranged on the mantelpiece. Napoleon's heir, the miniature of his sire, with the addition of a monkey's tail, is tearing and clawing at his parent, and is held on a cushion placed outside the Imperial cradle, which is inscribed _Devil's Darling_. Napoleon is haranguing in his usual grandiose style: 'Rejoice, ye Frenchmen; the fruits of my labour has produced a little image of myself. I shall, for the love I owe your country, instil in my noble offspring the same principles of lying, thieving, treachery, letchery, murder, and all other foul deeds, for which I am now worshipped and adored!' The Pope is kneeling by his side, and pronouncing by way of a benediction over the infant:-- The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sight; The night-crow cry'd, foreboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees; The raven rock'd her on the chimney-top, And chattering pies in dismal discord sung.