MARK ANTONY'S FUNERAL SPEECH. ABRIDGED AND ADAPTED FOR THE USE OF PROTECTION MEETINGS.

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume III, Issue 124, 7 October 1846, Page 4

MARK ANTONY'S FUNERAL SPEECH. ABRIDGED AND ADAPTED FOR THE USE OF PROTECTION MEETINGS.

Friendi, farmers, countrymen, lend me your ears ; I come to speak of Peel, but not to praise him. The laws that some men pass lire after them ; Some hurry their own measures to their graves : So fares it with the sliding-scale. Sir Robert Hath told you that the Corn-laws are pernicious ; If «o, to pass one was a grievous fault, And very lamely Peel hath answered it. In spite of Peel, of Graham, and the rest, (Though Peel is a Right Honourable man, So are they all Right Honourable men), Come I to speak in favour of the Corn-laws. They are our friends, good useful laws- to us, Though Peel now says they are pernicious, And Peel is a Right Honourable man. They have brought many waste lands under tillage, Whose rentals did the landlords' coffers fill. Did this in Corn-laws seem pernicious ? They make the poor buy English bread of u«— The Polish peasant feeds on cheaper stuff. Yet Peel now says the Corn-laws are pernicious, And Peel is a Right Honourable man. You all did see that 1 last Michaelmas, When tenants brought me Corn-law-doubled rents, Remitted ten per cent. Was this pernicious ? Yet Peel now says the Corn-laws are pernicious, And Peel is a Right Honourable man. Peel now speaks to disprove what Peel once spoke, But I do speak of Peel what I do know. You backed him once, because he backed your cause : Now you must mourn for both your cause and him. Protection, thou art fled from British beasts, And corn is lost by treason 1 Bear me ; I hear enough of coughing in the Commons, Here you must wait till speech comes back to me. [Produces a volume of Hansard.] If you have votes, prepare to use them now. You all do read the papers : I remember When first Peel tried bis free-trade measures on: 'Twas when he introduced his new tariff, When he'd o'ercome the Melbourne Ministry. Look, here again did Graham turn his coat ; See how they ratted on Canadian corn. And as Peel drew each guardian tax away, Mark how we Squires awhile did follow him. For we. were all bewildered, unresolved If Peel could so unkindly act or no. For Peel was, as you know, the Farmers' angel : Judge, oh ye Squires, how dearly we did love him I This was the most unkindest rat of all. For when we heard Peel speak against Protection, Ingratitude, moie strong than Leaguers' votes, Quite mastered vs — That broke the Tory party — And in confusion, maimed by their own Ministry Far worse than by the Opposition members, Who all the while cried " hear," Protection fell. Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen I Then you, and I, and rents, and all fell down, And Bright and Cobden flourished over us. Oh now you blow your noses. You can feel Your purse's perils — these are gracious groans. Good souls, whatl groan you when you do but hear Of former sessions ? Look, here's last week's paper, Here is Peel* speech — dead, dead against the Cornlaws. I Good Squires, sweet Squires, let me not stir youup To any sudden change of ministry. They that bring in this Bill are able men. What chiefs with brains we have, alas, I know not, Though in the Peers we've Dukes to answer them. I come not, friends, to get myself made Premier. I am no speaker, as Sir Robeit is, j But as you know me all, a plain, blunt squire, That love my rents, as Liberals know full well, j When in the public press they do report me. For I have neither skill nor information, Action nor utterance, nor the power of speech To lead the Commons. I but vote right on. I tell you that which all old women know ; Sbowyou ourrent-rolls, ourpoor menaced rentrolls, And bid them speak for me. But were I Peel, And Peel a country squire, there were a squire Would ruffle up the counties, and get a vote From «very freeholder that soon should move Richmond to rise and form a ministry.

! The Servility of Courtiers. — In the " Memoirs of Count Grammont," it is related of Lonis XIV. that having a dispute at chess with one of his courtiers, no one present would give an opinion. " Oh !" said he, " here comes Count Hamilton, he shall decide which of us is in the right." " Your majesty is in the wrong," replied the Count, without looking at the board. On which the king remonstrating with him on the impossibility of his judging till he saw the state of the game, he answered, " does your majesty suppose that if you were in the right all these noblemen would stand by and say nothing?" The Delights of a Turkish Bath. — " The Turkish bath is certainly a novel sensation to an Englishman, and may be set down as almost queer and surprising event of his life. The spacious hall has a large fountain in the midst. All round the room and the galleries were matted enclosures, fitted v/ith numerous neat beds and cushions for reposing QM, wheije. lay a dozen of true believers smo-

COOK'S STRAIT GUARW&N.

king, or sleeping, or in the happy half-dozing state. I was led up to one of these beds to rather a retired corner, in consideration of my modesty ; and to the next bed presently came a dancing dervish, who forthwith began to prepare for the bath. When the dancing dervish had taken off his yellow sugar-loaf cap, his gown, shawl, &c, he was arrayed in two large blae cloths ; a white one being thrown over his shoulders, and another in the shape of a turban plaited neatly round his head ; the garments of which he divested himself were folded up in another linen, and neatly put by. I beg'leave to state I was treated in precisely the same manner as the dancing dervish. The i reverend gentleman then put on a pair of wooden pattens, which elevated him about six inches from the ground, and walked down the stairs, and paddled across the moist marble floor of the hall, and in at a little door, by which also Titmarsh entered. But I had none of the professional agility of the dancing dervish ; I staggered about very ludicrously upon the high wooden pattens, and should have been down on my nose several times, had not the dragoman and the master of the bath supported me down the stairs and across the hall. Dressed in three large cotton napkins, with a white turban round my head, I thought of Pall Mall with a sort of despair. I passed the little door, it was close behind me — I was in the dark — I couldn't speak the language — in a white turban — Mon Dieu ! what was going to happen 1 The dark room was the tepidariura, a moist, oozing, arched den, with a light faintly streaming from an orifice in the domed ceiling. Yells of frantic laughter and song came booming and clanging through the echoing arches, the doors capped to with loud reverberations. It was the laughter of the followers of Mahound, rollicking and taking their pleasure in the public bath. I could not go into that place ; I swore I would not ; they promised me a private room, and the dragoman left me. My agony at parting from that Christian cannot be described. When you get into the Sudariura, or hot room, your first sensations only occur about half a minute after entrance, when you feel that you are choking. I found myself in that state, seated on a marble slab ; the bath man was gone ; he had taken away the cotton turban and shoulder shawl ; I saw I was in a narrow room of marble, with a vaulted roof, and a fountain of warm and cold water ; the atmosphere was in a steam, the choking sensation went off, and I felt a sort of pleasure presently in a soft boiling simmer, which, no doubt, potatoes feel when they are steaming. You are left in this state for about ten minutes ; it is warm certainly, but odd and pleasant, and disposes the mind to reverie. But let any delicate mind fancy my horror, when, on looking up out of this reverie, I saw a great brown wretch extended before me, only half dressed, standing on pattens, and exaggerated by them and the steam until he looked like an ogre, grinning in the most horrible way, and waving his arm, on which was a horse hair glove. This grinning man belabours the patient violently with the horse-brush. When he lias completed the horsehair part, and you lie expiring under a squirting iountain of warm water, and fancying all is done, hereappeais with a large brass basin, containing a quantity of lather, in the midst of which is something like old Mrs. Mac' Whirter's flaxen wig that she is so proud of, and that we have all laughed at. Just as you are going to remonstrate, the thing like the wig is dashed into your face and eyes, covered over with soap, and for five minutes you are drowned in lather ; you can't see, the suds are frothing over your eyeballs ; you can't hear, the soap is whizzing into your ears ; you can't gasp for breath, Mrs. MacWhirter's wig is down your throat with half a pailful of suds in an instant — you are all soap. Wicked children, in former days, have jeered you, exclaiming ' How are you off for soap V You little knew what saponacity was till you entered a Turkish bath. When the whole operation is concluded, you are led — with what heartfelt joy I need not say — softly back to ; the cooling room, having been robed in shawls and turbans as before. You are laid gently on the reposing bed ; somebody brings a narghile, which tastes as tobacco must taste in Mahomet's Paradise ; a cool, sweet, dreamy, langour takes possession of the purified frame ; and half an hour of such delicious laziness is spent over the pipe as is unknown in Europe. The after-bath state is the most delightful condition of laziness I ever knew, and I tried it wherever we went afterwards on our little tour." — Titmarsh's Journey to Grand Cairo.