At this moment, it is said, Sir ROBERT is studying what taxes he can best lay upon the people. We confess to the difficulty of the case. At this moment there is scarcely a feather so light, the addition of which will not crack the camel’s back. No; Sir ROBERT will come to the Whig measures of relief, having so disguised them as, like Plagiary’s metaphors, to make them pass for his own. The object of himself and party is, however, attained. He has juggled himself into place. With the genius of his former existence, as TEUFELSKOPF, the Premier has shuffled himself into Downing-street; and there he will leave nothing untried that he may remain. “If Cato gets drunk, then is drunkenness no shame”—“If Sir ROBERT PEEL alter the Corn-laws, then is it proper that the Corn-laws should be changed.” This will be the cry of the Conservatives; and we shall see men, who before would have vowed themselves to slow starvation before they would admit an ear of wheat from Poland or Egypt, vote for a sliding-scale or no scale at all, as their places and the strength of their party may be best assured.
Doctor VON TEUFELSKOPF for years of his life was wont to eat fire and swallow a sword. We shall see how once more Sir ROBERT PEEL will eat his own principles—swallow his own words. When men call this apostacy, the Doctor will blandly smile, and denominate it a sacrifice to public opinion. We have no doubt that, as long as he can, the Premier will put off the remedy; he will try this and that; but at length public opinion will compel him to cast aside his own nostrums and use RUSSELL’S—bread pills!
Q.
EPIGRAMS ON A LOUD AND SILLY TALKER.
If it be true man’s tongue is like a steed,
Which bears his mind,—why then, none wonder need,
That Timlin’s tongue can run at such a rate,
Because it only carries—feather weight.