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son, trusting much to the liberality of a British dudience, as all the first-rate performers are in disgrace.

Those members of the society who have notoriously made the most of their former inferior situations, will be carefully promoted; the candle-snuffers who have made the most of their candle-ends, will be placed in a line more suitable to the display of their talents; and the scene-shifters who have been most successful in their deceptions upon the public, will meet with all due encouragement. Those gentlemen who have hitherto been always unsuccessful, will be now placed elsewhere, every man being fit for something. It is presumed, that as they have hitherto failed wherever they have been tried,' their new situations must be those for which nature designed them. To complete the number of characters necessary for a great National Theatre, a selection of young men has been made from those who have shown most spirit when brought before the public in the late popular piece called the Royal Culprit. The company

will commence the season with a new tragi-comic Farce, called the Administration, or the No Popery Rump. The part of Expedition will be given to a promising young nobleman, who, having twice failed in his attempts upon Cambridge, has been thought peculiarly adapted to the character. Old Conscience and Bigot are to remain, as the parts cannot be better filled. Ways and Means will be moved into the Treasury, the necessity of this change being obvious.

The duel-scene between Intrigue and Prosy must, it is feared, he omitted.

Great hopes are entertained of being enabled to procure the public favourite J. Kemble, whose present concern is declining so fast, and who has shown himself so admirably qualified to take the principal part of Old Vigour.


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[From the Waterford Mirror.]
Tune-" Ye Warwickshire Lads and lje , Lasses."

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YE Westminster lads and ya lasses,
Let's see how your Jubilee passes ;

Though you may be glad,

For myself, I ani sad;
Yet the lad of all lads is your Treasury lad.

Though you may be glad, &c.


To be sure, when I think how I pleaded,
And that no one so little succeeded;

And now when I see,

I'm the top of the tree,
One should think that no lad was so happy as me.

And now when I see, &c.


Yet the truth is, that even John Kemble
For the fate of his playhouse can't tremble

So much as I do

For ny playhouse too,
When the season begins, lest the thing should not do.

So much as I do, &c.


I'm afraid that I have not much reason
expect such good luck as last season;

The No. Party men

Will be at me again,
And my company's d—bly damag'd since then.

The " No Party men," &c.


Here are two of our lads who've been fighting,
And the blockheads have now got to writing ;

So our old farce again,

" Don't abuse public men,Will never go down with the “ No Party men,

So our old farce again, &c.



Then this d-ble thing about Canniog,
This disclosure of all we'd been planning;

How with faces so gay,

We betray'd Castlereagh,
What the d1, I wonder, will Wilberforce say?

How with faces so gay, &ça

VII. Poor Wellesley has got, too, his nose in; 'T was he that propos'd this deposing;

He denied, it was true,

That the practice was new,
For he'd tried it himself, on a Nabob or two,

He denied it was true, &e,

When the Wellesleys all voted so hearty,
Against Castlereagh and Clancarty,

The " No Party men"

Did not know the trick then, But now we shall have it again and again.

The “ No Party men," &c.

Then, alas! I have lost my best joker ;
And though I have hir'd Ally Croker,

I'm afraid it won't do,

For only us two,
To play all our pieces--the old and the new.

I'm afraid it won't do, &c.

There's the d-ble Dutch expedition,
There's the curs'd Putney Heath exhibition ;

These pieces, 't is true,

Are pathetic and new,
But, by Ch-i, Ally Croker, they never will do.

These pieces, 't is true, &c.


To be sure, there's the crack Spanish actor,
Whom I once thought our grand benefactor.

But poor Baron Douro,

He turns out so so,
And whether to hire him again I don't know.

But poor Baron Douro, &c.


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When I think how the guns we were firing,
Whilst the Baron so fast was retiring

And to write, as he did,

Of his march to Madrid,
When he'd only just time to get off as he did.

And to write as he did, &c.

Then to think of his hum-bugging letter,
Where he says" how he thinks it was better,

That Cuesta should stay,

Whilst he went and fought Ney;". When he left his sick lads, and himself got away.

That Cuesta should stay, &c.

Then " the times we live in," I'm afraid ofm
Such wicked stuff some folks are made of

The No Party chick

Will play off their trick,
And again I shall hear of that curs'd Quintin Dick.

The No Party chick, &c.

v. So, my dear Ally Croker, your hand, Sir, Let all honest men " make a stand," Sir;

And though it is true

This piece is not new,
Yet, perhaps, after all we have seen, it will do.

And though it is true, &c.


[From the Morning Post, Nov. 9.] YE Masters of Oxford, to rise who intend,

A fig for Lord Eldon-make Grenville your friend; For though Eldon might give a few livings perhaps, There's Grenville may get you all Cardinals' caps.


( 304 )


[From the Morning Chronicle, Nov. 10.)
“ Omnibus et lippis notum et consoribus."-Hor.


St. James's Square, Sept. 19, 7809, 'T'S needless for me, Sir, to make any rout,

For facts that preceded our sudden turn-out;
For me 't will suffice in this letter to state,
I find you propos’d, in a secret debate,
Tow'rds the close of last session, that I might be sent
(Without beat of drum, or my private consent,)
From the Cabinet squad; and, by hook or by crooks
A promise perforce yon procur'd from the Duke.
Notwithstanding ihis trick, by which you pronounc'd
That I, a mere vincompoop, must be denounc'd;
Notwithstanding this trick, by which my high station
Was forc'd to depend on your sole approbation ;
In the closer we both stiil, by night and by day,
Took our turns at a pinch on the same chaise percée :
Not a shrug, not a soeer, not a frown, not a wink,
Gave the hint, my sweet savour was chang'd to a stink.
Nay, how can I mention such deeds without blushing?
In my last scarlet fever, and fainting, and Flushing,
Throughout each sad process--I 'll now say no more than
You handled my papers, you emptied my jordan.

You kuew mighty well, Sir, that had I but knowri,
By a sneer or a shrug, by a wink or a frown,
My presence annoy'd you fig for evasions !
I had ceas'd in the office to do my occasions.
Your conduct deceiv'd me. Your finger and thumb
Held paper galore for the calls of my bum.

Yet though I write this, I am free to confess,
That, when my removal you ventur'd to press,
You urg'd its disclosure; whilst, bless him! the Duke,
Who pitied the qualms of my East Indian puke,
Resisted your motion. I ne'er can admit,
'T was in such an emergency decent or fit
That others should jusłge of the state of my feelings,
Since you, even you, disapprov'd of such dealings.


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