will not deny my almost forfeited claim to the title of your son.     

       H. M.     

       TO J. D., ESQ., M. P.     

 Holyhead. 

 We are told in the splendid Apocrypha of ancient Irish fable, that when one of the learned was missing on the Continent of Europe, it was proverbially said,     

W

       “Amandatus est ad disciplinum in Hibernia”      

       But I cannot recollect that in its fabulous or veracious history, Ireland was ever the mart of voluntary exile to the man of pleasure; so that when you and the rest of my precious associates miss the track of my footsteps in the oft trod path of dissipation, you will never think of tracing its pressure to the wildest of the Irish shores, and exclaim, “Amandatus est ad, &c. &c. &c.”      

       However, I am so far advanced in the land of Druidism, on my way to the “Island of Saints,” while you, in the emporium of the world, are drinking from the cup of conjugal love a temporary oblivion to your past sins and wickedness, and revelling in the first golden dreams of matrimonial illusion.     

       I suppose an account of my high crimes and misdemeanours, banishment,       &c. &c. have already reached your ears; but while my brethren in transportation are offering up their wishes and their hopes on the shore, to the unpropitious god of winds, indulge me in the garrulity of egotism, and suffer me to correct the overcharged picture of that arch charicature       report, by giving you a correct ebauche of the recent circumstances of my useless life.     

       When I gave you convoy as far as Dover, on your way to France, I returned to London, to     

  

       “Surfeit on the same     

       and yawn my joys——”      

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