wers of Dunedin,
Intelligent Druggists, rhetorical Quakers,
Broad acres--a few--but no want of wiseacres.
All are perfectly clear that these horrid restrictions
Are the proximate cause of our present afflictions,
Obstructing the bowels, as 'twere, of the nation,
And entirely deranging our whole circulation.

To expel these bad humours, we earnestly urge
A dose, night and morning, of Russell's _new_ Purge;
Not the old wishy-washy affair of the _fixture_,
But the new out-and-out Morisonian mixture.

In the mean time 'tis well that the Noble concoctor
Has succeeded in ousting the family Doctor.
Peel's a perfect old wife--twaddles on about diet,
About exercise, air, mild aperients, and quiet;
Would leave Nature alone to her vigour elastic,
And never exhibit a drug that is drastic.
Doctor Russell's the man for a good searching pill,
Or a true thorough drench that will cure or will kill.
For bleeding and blistering, and easy bravado,
(Not to speak of hot water,) he passes Sangrado.
He stickles at nothing, from simple phlebotomy,
As our friend Sidney said, to a case of lithotomy:
And I'll venture to say, that this latest specific,
When taken, will prove to be no soporific.
Might I just hint how happy 'twould make me to be
Sole Agent down here for the great Patentee?

_Entre nous_, what can mean these unpleasant surmises?
I scarce know what prognosis to form of the crisis:
And our friends, quite perplex'd at this puzzling delay,
Can't imagine how scruples should stand in the way.
Must the grand Opus Magnum be brought to a fix,
Because some jarring drugs are unwilling to mix?
His lordship, I'm certain, would cut the thing shorter,
If he'd borrow a touch of my pestle and mortar.

Ere we part, I must give you a hint of the truth:
We Free Churchmen can't stomach your views of Maynooth.
If you value your seat, as a friend I would urge ye,
Steer clear of endowing the Catholic Clergy;
A bolus (or bonus) so very unhallow'd
Would in Scotland, I'm sure, not be easily swallow'd.

By an early reply we should all be elated,
And 'twould tell if from Windsor again it were dated.

DEAR DRUGGIST---You've open'd your jocular vein,
And I fain would reply in the same pleasant strain;
But let those laugh who win--I have only to say,
That we are--_as we were:_ and all done by Lord Grey--
The most arrogant, wayward, capricious of men,
(T