ormously fat woman, probably intended for
the Marchioness of Conyngham. He is handing to a Chinese official a
paper inscribed "Instructions for Lord Amhurst, to get fresh patterns of
Chinese deformities to finish the decorations of Pavilion G. P. R." A
specimen of regency taste and sympathies stands on a pedestal in the
form of the Hottentot Venus, while a statuette of the fat prince
himself, habited in a red coat, white waistcoat, yellow inexpressibles,
and silk stockings, is labelled the "British Adonis." The princess
recommends her papa to order the officer to bring her over "a Chinaman,
instead of getting her a husband among our German cousins." A variety of
miscellaneous articles are strewn about the floor, among them a box
containing the Regent's wigs and whiskers, a treatise on "The Art of
making Punch," the indispensable hamper of champagne, and a pair of
curling irons; while no one will fail to recognise the interior of the
Brighton Pavilion as the scene where this admirable satire is laid.
Another undated satire remains to be noticed: it represents a young man
in a boat with three young women, one of them of considerable personal
attractions, that is to say from a Cruikshankian point of view, and
evidently a likeness. On the shore stands another young woman and her
child, whom the young spark has evidently left behind him. In the stern
of the boat is a hamper of wine and a goblet fashioned out of a skull; a
noseless man rows the boat, while three sailors in an adjoining vessel
make ribald observations in reference to the young man's female
companions. By the star on his coat, the turned-down collar, profile,
and the arrangement of the hair, we take it that the person thus
satirized is Lord Byron. Any doubts we may have on the subject seem
removed by the words of the song he is supposed to be singing while
waving his hat to the disconsolate woman on the shore:--

"All my faults perchance thou knowest,
All my _madness_ none can know."

And the concluding stanza:--

"Fare thee well! thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie,
Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted,
More than this I scarce can die"!!

The foregoing contains a list and description of some of George
Cruikshank's graphic satires, many of which we have reason to believe
will be entirely new to the great majority of our readers. They support
the description given of him by Lockhart at the opening of our chapter:
"People cons