The writings of the President are curious,
And fam'd for wit, and knowledge, and profundity,
And really might now (if they were not spurious,)
With great facility and ease, inundate the
Terraqueous globe, with matter most luxurious;
And might, perchance, develope the rotundity
Of whales, and crocodiles, and such like fishes,
And shew their vices and their various wishes.

He is, indeed, a most uncommon mortal,
Full of strange fantasies and lucubrations,
Of keen imagination, quite a portal

In Jove's great house of mighty constellations;
His disciples, indeed, and he but sort ill,
And now and then have little altercations;
But, on the whole, his speech and singularity
Deserve at least some share of popularity.

But, hitherto, alas! his compositions
Have not entirely prov'd so satisfactory;
The world is oft averse to new positions,
And, therefore, justly may be deem'd refractory;
Indeed, the folly of fine disquisitions,
Which authors look to as a sort of factory,
Wherein they may retail their classic lore,
I've often look'd upon to be a bore.

But, to my tale aforesaid-'twas November,
And bleak and barren look'd the frightful sky;
Each lounger's nose resembled much an ember,
Or midnight taper, just about to die:
(The season's not so melting as September,
And, for that freezing reason, therefore, I
Prefer a glass or two of wine quotidian,
To dancing frolics in our sun's meridian.)

'Twas in November, I've twice said already,
The first of that same month, and three the hour;
(To hours and dates we really should be steady,
For over such we have a lawless power:
Besides, my worthy friend, and sweet Miladi,
Of passions temperate, and temper sour,
Has clearly prov'd, beyond all contradiction,
That stories all invented must be fiction.)

When in the College-yard, there rose a quarrel,
Like the wild roaring of the ocean, loud;
While some one flourish'd on a mighty barrel,
To an assembled, gazing, boist'rous crowd.
If eloquence divine e'er gain'd the laurel,
Or smiles of fortune, to make man look proud;
That day, a crop of both, (though both are fickle,)
Had yielded to the preacher's dreadful sickle.

And round him stood the gaping crowd assembled,
Rending with dreadful shouts the louring sky,
While the majestic buildings round him trembled,
As if some dread phenomenon were nigh;
His shape at that fell moment much resembled
A wild-goose, which had just essay'd to fly;
At every sentence, as he paus'd, thereafter
Came on his ears a double peal of laughter.

This learned orator was in reality

A most uncommon man, although a scrub,
He hated every kind of prodigality;
"Tis said, his servants he was us'd to drub,
Whene'er they hinted aught of liberality;
His avarice, indeed, oft got a rub ;-

Joe Cynic was his name-I've heard it rumour'd,,
He was a bachelor, not too good humour'd.

He was a writer witty, and, for reading,
Again, on earth, I'm sure he had no fellow;
At disputation, and a learned pleading,

(He had a voice, was rather shrill than mellow ;)
He quite astounded every one-exceeding
Fair spoken was he, though his mug was yellow;
At law and equity he beat the Proctors,

And out of Surgeons' Hall he kick'd the Doctors.
His face alone was emblematical

Of the last season of the year. His speech,
Though 'twasn't what the learned call grammatical,
Was far above the dull plebeian reach;

He was, upon the whole, somewhat dogmatical,
And on economy he well could preach;
Indeed I've seldom seen a man look prouder,
When deck'd up with pomatum, snuff, and powder.

His nose was of the aquiline, and fell
With graceful elegance upon his chin ;

His legs were rather curv'd than parallel,

His lanthern jaws, beside, were somewhat thin;
But he was passing witty, and could tell

The various properties of Holland gin;

And though his wit was sometimes stale and prolix,
He was a man of spunk for midnight frolics.

His boon companion, Scotticé, his cronny,
Was known in Princes-Street to be a quiz,
His legs and arms were lank, and raw, and bony,
Indeed I've seldom witness'd such a phiz;
His fertile brain, 'tis said, was somewhat stony,
And stones and granites were the most of his
Succession to a pedigree as Highland,
As e'er adorn'd a bleak and desert island.

His speeches I admir'd, for much he talk'd
Of horses, racing, gaming, and fine dinners;
His figure like the ghost in Hamlet stalk'd,
Or like a maiden lady cas'd in pinners ;
He was a saint on earth, although he walk'd,
Or ambl'd rather, like the chief of sinners;
And though his face was somewhat pale and sable,
He did great justice to a well-fill'd table.

He was a keen astronomer, whose science
Was dread, uncourtly, barren, and unyielding;
To wit and reason he gave due defiance,

As instruments of war not worth the wielding:
He had an intimate and close alliance,
Not with the planets, but with castle-building;
But, o'er a pint or two of good Glenlivet, he
Could calculate to a moment your nativity.

His science chiefly was the economical;
His favorite amusement was dissection;
His face was somewhat shrewd and comical,
And shew'd a genius of a sage complexion;
His practice of the art call'd anatomical,
Our epicures declare has reach'd perfection;
His name was Chucklehead, affix'd to Bobby,
And dining gratis was his greatest hobby.

He was the patron of the god of wine,
The soul and brain of poetry and fiction,
The father patriarch of the Muses nine,
The hero of disputes and contradiction,
La grande rotisserie of those who dine
Upon a Quarterly's grand benediction;
In short, the summum bonum of urbanity,
To critics somewhat troubl'd with insanity.

But to my tale-Joe speechified and beckon❜d
In favour of some mighty resolution;

His speech (in short hand) truly may be reckon'd
The finest piece of modern elocution,
Surpassing every thing, in fact, a second
Edition of Demosthenes-an effusion,
Unequall'd for its fire and singularity,

Though somewhat ting'd with what is term'd vulgarity.

He might have spoken long, and loud, and mighty,
And gain'd the laurel, and the peoples' praise;
But not exactly standing quite upright, he
Soon lost the honours and the verdant bays;
For being on the barrel rather weighty,
In went the top-and to the great amaze-
Ment of the populace, who loudly cheer'd,
Joe Cynic from our vision disappear'd.

Oh, then, there rose the fearful dread uproar,
Then smil'd the witty, and admir'd the mean,
While hundreds toss'd their hats, and cried encore,
Or, in Sardonic smiles, beguil'd their spleen;
While some fell wag, who ne'er had rail'd before,
From heaps of mud, and standing puddles green,
Bedew'd the preacher's neck and bony shoulders,
To the amusement of the whole beholders.

He fled, as well he might, and with him flew
His keen supporter, and his favourite, Bobby;
And after follow'd the accursed crew,
Whose fatal fists had almost mill'd his nob-he
Flew fast as lightning, nor turn'd to review
His fierce assailants-as he gain'd the lobby;
Midst curses, hisses, shouts, and imprecations,
He mourn'd the failure of his grand orations.

VOL. IX.

3 Z

left Cairo, wearing the dress of a Mamaluke, with a caravan of five thousand camels, and about fifty thousand pilgrims, for Mekka. After a stay of some months at Bombay, Mr Buckingham again embarked for Egypt. The voyage was tedious, but during its continuance he was enabled to collect a great deal of hy

DRAS AND BOMBAY. LONDON: drographical information, and to il

1821.

Buckingham's Travels.

dria, for the coast of Syria, on board a small vessel, called a Shuhtoer, adapted to the navigation of the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. The first part of the voyage was rendered tedious by calms and contrary winds; and it was with the utmost difficulty that Mr Buckingham could prevail on the crew to keep at sea. "To Alexandria! to Alexandria !" was the united cry, and nothing could have deterred them from the execution of this step, but the sense of shame, which Mr B. endeavoured to excite in them, by every epithet At but that of men and sailors. length they were overtaken by a storm, which put them in imminent peril, and made them throw over-board every thing on deck, and seek for safety in the port of Soor, which they made on the 6th of January 1816.On landing, they were soon surrounded by crowds of the idle and the curious. They accepted the proffered services of some merchants, who conducted them to a house in the centre of the town, where they were lodged, and hospitably entertained; but a succession of visitors suffered them not to enjoy the repose which they so much desired. The soldiers entered to enquire, whence they came, whither they were bound, and under whose firman they travelled? The merchants followed, to as certain what articles they had brought for sale, and the latest prices of goods in Egypt. The Christians came to hail them as pilgrims from the holy city of Jerusalem. The poor and the diseased came to solicit relief and medicine, for it had been already noised abroad, that they were neither pilgrims nor merchants, but physicians. And last of all the servants of the house came, to receive their commands.

Soor is supposed to occupy the site of the ancient Tyre, but we cannot follow Mr Buckingham into his learned discussion of the long agitated question, whether that proud city stood on the continent, or the peninsula on which Soor is built, and which was originally an island. The modern Soor contains about eight hundred houses, substantially built of stone, a mosque, three Christian churches, a bath, and three bazars. The inhabitants amount to

about eight thousand, and consist of
Arab Catholics, Arab Moslems, and
Turks. The trade of this place is
considerable, and during the dry sea-
son, that is, from April to October,
its port is frequented by vessels from
the Greek Islands, the coasts of Asia
Minor, and Egypt. Mr Bucking-
ham learned at Soor, that it would
be necessary to obtain a firmân from
the Pasha of Acre, to enable him to
travel to Damascus in safety. On
leaving Soor, he was presented with
"would
"a bill," which, he says,
have disgraced a Portsmouth tavern
for the entertainment of midshipmen
fresh from a long and successful
cruize;" and adds—“ I did not fail,
however, to give them an appropriate
lecture on such a reception of a
stranger, thrown by stress of weather
on their coasts; and, to confirm to
them my opinion of their meanness,
I laid the half of the sum before
them, telling them, that even for that
they would gladly see another Eng-
lishman among them; but that no
pains should be wanting on my part
to warn all I might meet against
the dear-bought hospitality of Soor.
After this, they were base enough to
kiss my hand, and beg a thousand
pardons." p. 52.

Our traveller examined the fountains of Ras-el-ain, with Maundrell's description of them in his hand, and found it extremely accurate. Here, on the 8th of January, he found sugar-canes already three feet above the ground. The plough used was small, and of simple construction ; the ploughman held it in one hand like a walking-crutch, while he carried a goad seven or eight feet long in the other, for the double purpose of cleaning the ploughshare and urging forward the oxen. The ground was every where stoney, and destitute of enclosures.

A few days before Mr Buckingham had arrived at Soor, the death of the Pasha of Damascus had been announced, and Suleiman, then Pasha of Acre, pretending that he had orders from the Sultan of Stambool*

• The Turkish name of Constantinople, a corruption of the words εις τὴν πολιν, pronounced by the Greeks ees teen bolin; and used to denote their going to the city κατ' ἐξοχὴν. Anastasius.