A nobler, worthier foe is now in view,

For Whitbread e'en proclaims thee cruel too;
He calls in doubtful phrase, yet half unwilling,
Thy candour merciless, thy very kindness killing.

ON THE ELOQUENCE OF A CERTAIN PEER. [From the Morning Post, March 4.]

WHY, when our Patriot speaks, will he persist
To thump so hard the table with his fist?
Is it that, thinking (no offence is meant)
His fist more weighty than his argument,
He strives by force to make each wand'ring Peer
Hear that which otherwise they would not hear?
Or is it to discover which is able

To bear the hardest knock, he or the table?-
If it be so, a wise observer said,

" "T were better far he'd thump it with his head." C. T.

ON TOM, A DYER.

[From the Morning Chronicle, March 4.]

TRANGE was the destiny, thought I,
That Fate to Tom did give;

That while all others live to die,

He only dyes to live.

THE STUDIOUS MAN'S PRAYER

IN MATRIMONY.

[From the same, March 5]

AMAN, whose studies occupied the day,

C.T.

And sometimes trespass'd on the peaceful night, Disturb'd by noise, was overheard to say:

O, Heav'n! I thank thee for the dear delight Which marriage lends, past, present, and to come; But crown my joys, and let my wife be dumb."

# 2

1

ON A STOCK-JOBBING PARSON.

BY A CHELSEA PENSIONER.

[From the same, March 7.]

GOOD Parson Scrip, each coming week,
To pious prayer is given;

He then exhorts his flock to seek

Their Int rest most in Heaven.

But yet these prayers, of which he speaks,
Himself he ne'er fulfils:

His Int'rest most the Parson seeks
In Bonds and India Bills!

A NEW COMEDY.'

[From the British Press, March 8.]'

A NEW Piece, entitled "How to conciliate the

Regent," has been recently brought out, and is now performing at a certain Theatre in Downing Street. It is not the production of a single pen, but of a Junta, who have clubbed their wits; but, like most modern pieces, it boasts little novelty. In the intrigue, the structure, and the materials, even to the minor incidents, it is confessed to be a mere plagiary from the dramatic works of the late Mr. Pitt, with the addition of a few hints from Machiavel. The introduction of the Royal Dukes as "great loobies, and boobies with corals and bells," having excited universal disgust upon the first representation, that gross and scandalous part of the spectacle has been omitted; and it is now proposed to introduce them all, with the Regent at their head, in a graceful style, mounted upon their hobbies. We are confident, however, that the Authors and the Manager will fail also in this attempt, and that they will find the Regent, although necessarily an actor, is no puppet. Even this idea of

the

the hobbies, it must be seen, is borrowed from Blue Beard, as performed at Covent Garden. The scenery and decorations of the new Piece are miserable-indeed there is little of either-a circumstance that has excited universal disapprobation, as it is well known to the audience that the Theatre possesses both, upon the most rich, costly, and splendid scale. To supply this defect, the Manager, in the excess of his generosity, while he withheld the old, proposed to purchase a new wardrobe and decorations, and that the public should pay for them! This offer has, however, been indignantly rejected by the principal Actor, and the public loudly applaud his spirit.

LAW AND REASON. AN EPIGRAM.

[From the Morning Chronicle, March 9.]

UR statesmen all boast, that, in matter of treason,
The Law of Old England is founded in reason;
But they own that when libel comes under its paw,
It is rarely, indeed, that there's reason in law.

TO LUBIN;-ON HIS WRITINGS.

FROM THE FRENCH.

[From the same.]

averse or prose alike you 're bad,
You every thing transpose;

Your prose is poetry run mad

bras 22019 16 Your poetry is prose.

Y.

TO HIS R-L H-SS THE P-CE OF W-5, R-G-T OF THE UNITED K-DOM OF G-T B-TAIN AND I-LAND.

THE WOFUL ADDRESS AND LAMENTATION

OF

PETER GRIEVOUS, SAWNEY M'CHOAKER, CARRICK
O'GRUNT, AND OTHERS.

[From the Morning Post, March 9.]

AH! with what qualms and sneaking shyness
Do we approach your R-1 Hss!
Though grievous is our disappointment,
Yet shall our words be smooth as ointment;
And we shall, in the sequel, prove

Warm as an oyster in our love.

Our hearts with strong affection run sick
Towards your illustrious house of Br-sw-k;
For, under its indulgent sway,

Each ass about his rights may bray,

Whilst now (though 't is but nolens volens,)
We feign to offer our condolence;

That by divine sad visitation

Our King can't govern this great nation,
We are right glad to have a Prince

Who never did the matter mince,

But always, though oft sorely tried,
Hath kept the people on his side.
Yet, ah! our fears are realiz'd,
Our expectations all capsis'd.

Sure, were your powers not clipt so small,
For us you would have us'd them all,
Nor thus have left those in the lurch,
Who hop'd to rule both State and Church ;
But now the ministerial check
Hangs, like a millstone, round your neck.
Who dare deny that we have shown
Attachment to your Father's throne?
Not less our love to you we'd show,
Could we contrive to tell you how;

But,

But, from incorrigible dulness,
We can't express it in its fulness;
For 't is indeed a bitter pill,

Thus to address against our will.

That our first dawn should be so clouded,
In dismal night our hopes be shrouded,
Fills us with grief; which must have vent,
Or time so precious were mispent.
Once on a time we were respected,
And state affairs by us directed;
But now, insulted and debas'd,
In us great London is disgrac'd!
But, oh, behold our condescension!

We make of our own wrongs no mention.
By grievances we 're sore oppress'd,
That make this land a land unbless'd;
Taxes on taxes pil'd, exacted

(By laws "the Talents" once enacted)
With sore oppression, past relief,
For, "set a thief to catch a thief."
'Tis of those ills, the plans and plots

Of ministerial Hottentots,

By which our blood and treasure's wasted,

As our bills prove, on Newgate pasted,

Showing decisions by the quorum,

Of the renowned British Forum ;

Which still, though gagg'd and jawlock'd, croaks,

And shilling orators convokes.

Must we not rave to see the Minister

With glossy speech, yet cunning sinister,

On royal stilts uplifted, gull

With vile deception good John Bull:
And (as he lately did) command,
With regal power, this wretched land;
When illness dire, lamented, smiting,
Withheld His Majesty from writing;
When we have been asham'd to see
The fruits of his vile jealousy,
Prerogatives withheld, curtail'd,
As if in you all merit fail'd.
H 4

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