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And proving this to your content,

That reason is not argument:
Flimsy in thought, he passes by
'The depth in which the questions lie;
Aud, as a sea-gull skims the sea,
He flaps his wing creating spray,
Then mounts-aloft sublime in height.
Not ev'n the surface in his sight
And wouders he could not subduc
The argument from which he flew.
But C-stle-gh, the world allows,
Has other qualities than those :
Not on the surface does he scud,
But, straightway, dives into the mud;
Not airy, light, and prone to glee,
But stupid with soleninity.
No depth he shuns, but, depth creating,
He puzzles every thing by stating;
And never yet was known to-fail
Of being unintelligible.
In truth, he is a paradox,
By far surpassing Pitt or Fox:
They, when they argu'd, full of thought,
Ideas into 'language wrought;
And, if their eloquence could warm us,
Why, they had something to inform us :
But he, without a notion, thunders,
Upon the language working wonders;
Disposing words, in train extensive,
Yet dainning matter as offensive :
A tedious thing, and foolish too,
When men have eloquence in view ;
That act like music, lately found
To charm' with nothing but a sound.
Such C-on-g is; such C-stle-gh;
What think you of the contrast, pray?
A contrast, not like that we find
Dividing great from little mind;
But that which may exist, you see,
"Twixt those in error, who agree.

EULOGY,

( 236 )

EULOGY.
{From the Morning Chronicle, Sept. 7.1

"O most lame and impotent conclusion !"--OTHELLO.

"s Acribus initiis incurioso fine." -TACITUS. RAISE, Britain! raise thy sea-encircled bead!

Round the wide world behold thy glory spread: Firm as thy guardian vaks thou still shalt stand, The dread and wonder of each hostile lanıl. While braggart Frenchmen impotently fight, And curse the fate that lent thee Chatham's might. Fir'd at the name, my genius spreads its wing, And fees where Walcheren wooes a Belgian spring. Ye future ages hear it, and admire ! On Flushing's town he opes a dreadful fire. The cry of women-virgins' shrieking tears, Ring no aların in his intrepid ears. Still undismay'd, he peals the instant gun, And swears, while turtle lasts, he'll never, run. Thy name, dread Chief! wiile England has a name For-folly, blind credulity, and shame, For dulness, that conviction cannot reach; For stubborn wrong, misiortune cannot teach; For all the teeming bunders each su ply, Thy name, Earl Walcheren, can never die. If, with one hundred thousand figliting nien, He sail'd from England trosait back again i If he displays to curious Castlereagh The grand spectacle of the fieer at sea ; If he leads Curtis to a foreign shore, Which ne'et, hy no means, Curtis saw before ; H there arriv'd, he quits the troubled main, And lands to feast, sleep, wake, arid feast again ; If while our flinty tars look round with wonder, And ask, Why sleeps the voice of Nelson's thuuder While Strachan brooding o'er the idle sea, Is d-n--g calipash and calipee; If our great Chieftain calis his chiefs together, To council measures 'gainst the rainy weather : If, since the hero vainly copes with Frauce, He sagely deems it useless to advance,

IMPROMPTU APTER DINNER.

237

And firın resolves (o most resolvid of men!)
To lead his hundred thousand back again !
And all this done by Chatham's greater son,
Heaven bless the hero ! - what a deal ke's done!!!

THE SUBSTANCE OF SEVERAL LONG DISSER, TATIONS-IN " THE MORNING POST."

[From the Morning Chronicle, Sept. 9.) YE

E Jacobin scoundrels, who daily complain

That we wastę blood and treasure-retract the assertion; Don't you see how in Italy, Holland, and Spain,

Lord Castlereagh's plans have created diversion!!

ON THE GRAND EXPEDITION AND ITS

ULTERIOR OBJECT.

[From the samc.]

“ The King of France, with forty thousand men,
March'd up the hill, and then march'd down again."
Great Chatham, with one hundred thousand men,
To Flushing sail'd, and then sail'd back again.
O

HAPPY country! who by such a threat

Your shores defend, your enemies defeat;
O happy people! who for such a show
Your fleets, your armies, and your wealth bestow ;
O happy King! blest in a council wise,
Displaying vigour, judgment, enterprise ;
O valiant Chatham! matchless deeds like thine
Shall o'er thy brow the laurel wreath entwine.

IMPROMPTU AFTER DINNER.

NAPOLEON FELO DE SE.

[From the General Evening Post, Sept. 9.)
ON

Chatham's failure cease your strife,
He still will end proud Boney's life;
Sure as this wine I'm quaffing,
When news shall reach his royal tent,
Of how he came, and how he weit,
He'll kill himself-with laughing !
2

THE

}

THE DISPUTE.
[From the British Press, Sept. 9.]

ASSERTION.
WHO dares of P-rc-! complain,

Who leads the Ministerial trair?
Of those that tread the legal hall,
Tbe wisest oice, and best of all;
And now the greatest of the great,
Who crowd St. Stephen's with their state..
In precedent and parchment wise,
And in religious mysteries,
Oh! turn on us thy saving eyes !
For all at once unite in thee,
Religion, law, and policy.

REPLY.
If 't is religion to be narrow,
He does possess the very marrow,
If legal knowledge can consist
In being regularly dress'd,
With robe professional, and wig,
The head not mattering a fig-
He was a lawyer. If the state
Need nothing in its guide but prate;
A supercilious pertness join'd
With quibbling aptitude of mind;
I cannot question then his claim,
Nor that of fifty fools you 'd name,
To being, in a sense so broad,
A politician, or a god.
But that is not Religion's arm
Which does the Catholic an liarm;
And that is not Religion's force
Which makes the state of millions worse;
It will not prove a lawyer sound,
To be in deeds and titles bound,
Or ornainented with a tail,
That touch'd him at the very heel.
A politician, too, you 'll find,
Requires a magnitude of mind,
Acuteness, prudence, common serise,
Not folly and extravagance.

If AN EXTEMPORARY RHAPSODY.

239

If cruel and coercive means
Were all the necessary pains
To govern well-alone completing

The happy knack of legislating;
Tlis were encugh to save the state,
A monster in the cabinet.
Then, Spencer, turn thine eyes away ;.
Believe me, Spencer, well you may,
Without depriving us of day!
Kelease us from thy circling arms,
Abandon us to smaller harms;
Avoid us, spurn us; let us lie,
Neglected to prosperity.

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INS AND OUT S.

AN EPIGRAM.

(Prom the Morning Post ) IN promise rich, but poor in pay;

In the King's Bench a Talent lay:

Why In 's cries Colin Clout,
His visions fled, his fortunes crost,
Broad-bottom answered," Borough lost,

I 'm in--because I'm out,"

AN EXTEMPORARY RHAPSODY, DESCRIBING A FEW OF BONAPARTE'S TRICKS.

[From the General Evening Post.] I SING of a robber, renown'd in fight,

,
A notable thief, Napoleon hight;
Who stole into France in an evil hour,
And made it submit to a tyrant's pow'r.
To aguish Holland he quickly came,
And show'd them a trick of the Rery sanie game; i
Where Lewis, a king of this bastard breed,
'Mid fogs and bogs, found a crown of reed.
Degen'rate Italy's fiddling band
Saw hini screw the strings with a master's hand;
With flats and sharps, Boney kick'd up a row,
And the xraper's head he broke with his bow.

Не

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