ET Minifters anfwer me queftions a pair *,"
Cried Tytt," and then I shall judge what they
But of Ty-tt himself, when he's brought to the test,
If a judgment you'd form, all inquiry's a jeft:
Hear that Orator fpeak; you'll no queftion propound;
For that veffels are empty, we judge by the found.
RN, with wondrous length of ears,
Strange faculty! e'en filence hears,
When stirring there's no moufe ;
But if he does, this truth is clear,
That filence he can never hear
While Js is in the House.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE TRUE BRITON.
AMBITIOUS of being ranked among the paraphrafts of those memorable Orations delivered by Mr. Jones, I beg a corner of your excellent paper for the following Verfification of his invaluable speech on Mr. Yorke's motion, the 8th of June 1801, for the eftablishment of a military College; hoping, that through fuch a medium I may recommend myself to him, in the event of a vacancy, as Poet Lauret to that
"I wish to know when the laft administration ended, and when the prefent began; and this, because I fhall not be able to form a judgment of the adminiftration of the Right Hon. Gentleman, unless he gives the House that statement."-Speech of Mr. T. T. Jones, on the motion for a vote of credit, Houfe of Commons, June 10, 1801.
moft potent defpot, the Majesty of the People, in the performance of which duty few will be found more affiduous than
CHRISTOPHER Crambo.
THIS policy which emulates
The plans of continental states,
-And bids us copy what is right,
That we with greater skill may fight,
I cannot pass without diffent,
Or I, for once, might feem content;
So jealous am I of all measures
Intended to exhaust our treasures,
In adding ftrength to Britain's hoft,
Left France fhould be undone and loft:
Befides, I hate a German plan,
And all the Pruffians to a man,
If Minifters had a defign
That I my vote with theirs fhould join,
They ought t' have roundly, boldly faid,
The scheme was hatch'd in Gallic head;
For though our troops might fraternize,
They'd poltrons be to Germanize.
I now of Mr. Yorke befeech,
That he, in ev'ry fature speech,
Will tell us peace can be procur'd,
And on a bafis firm fecur'd—
Inftead of making that event
Depend on Gallia's mild intent;
For this will ferve to criminate
The miniftry I fo much hate.
And let me once for all entreat,
That he will not be indifcreet,
And charge with enmity our foes,
Who with no rancour to difclofe;
But, on the contrary, to state
Excefs of friendfhip from our hate.
If thus refolv'd, he'll try to footh
Our enemy in language fmooth;
I will not till fome future time
Impeach his motion as a crime:
OR, A PARLIAMENTARY DIALOGUE BETWEEN RICHARD AND HIS BROTHER THOMAS.
IN St. Stephen's fam'd chapel, didft ever, Tom, fit?
Where the logical reafoning and powers of Pitt,
Join'd with Harry's folidity, found fenfe, and weight,
Have fo oft turn'd the scale of a well-fought debate
Where Fox once attended, though now gone aftray,
Because (what a fhame!) he can't have his own way;
Where the flaft.es of wit and keen humour of Sherry
Are equally poignant, inftructive, and merry;
Though I fcarce keep the gravity due to the place,
When with manners quite carelefs and unconcern'd face,
I hear him in thundering eloquence ftorm
'Gainft extravagant spending, and preach up reform;
Where Jekyll, of care and dull forrow the killer,
Scorns muity old records, and quotes from Joe Miller;
And Courtncy ne'er fhines with fuch merited glory
As when, 'ftead of a reafon, he brings in a flory;
Where Aris, for all his mifdeeds and mifchances,
Has feverely been trimm'd by the youthful Sir Francis,
Who wore than young prodigals' bills from their taylors,
Hates bolts, maffy fetters, deep dungeons, and jailors;
Where Tooke, like a jockey contefting a heat,
Though pufh'd, crofs'd, and joftled, yet ftill keeps his seat ;
Where Tierney, well skill'd in abftrufe calculation,
Talks of debt, finking fund, and the good of the nation;
Where Lawrence weighs words, as a grocer weighs ounces, And Grey, like a cracker, flies, jumps, fkips, and bounces;
-Stop, brother Richard, a truce with your clatter; The place well I know: fewer words and more matter.
Well, then, Thomas, without further amplification,
I'll directly proceed in ftraight forward narration:
You must know there are two grave M. P.'s in this
Houfe,
Who, like you and I, are not troubled with nous.
Pray who, Dick, are they? I can't guess, let me perish!
One ne'er opes his mouth but out blunders "El Arisch;" And the other is blefs'd with fuch exquifite ears,
That though all be filent, he ftill filence bears.
Now about these two worthies I've bother'd my brain,
And at length have produc'd, Tom, of fimiles twain.
First, they're like two young hounds, for when one opea
his throat,
T'other's fure to come after with loud babbling note;
And it often occurs, after racket and din,
That the scent they 've miftook, and deferve whipping in.
Well hit off, brother Richard-the fecond now tell.
They refemble two buckets that hang o'er a well.
You can't expound that, Dick, I'll wager a crown.
J-s is fure to get up, Tom, when Rn fits dow
My wager I've loft, fo to Hatchett's let's frisk it,
The crown will just pay for a bottle and biscuit,
OF A PASSAGE IN HESIOD'S WORKS AND DAYS, VERSE 223. BY GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
THERE unbrib'd juftice lifts her even scale,
Where native rights and equal law prevail,
All-bounteous Fortune crowns the blissful place,,
And joy and comfort fmile on every face :
Prolific Peace fwarms forth her myriad trains;
With life and motion glow the peopled plains;
The fiends of war great Jove's protecting hand
Forbids to roll their tempeft o'er the land;
No fhrieks of woe aflail the ftartling ear;
No breath of famine blafts the blooming year:
O'er the gay fcene no cloud of forrow low'rs;
Convivial joy leads on their circling hours:
Each undulating vale rich harvests fill,
Flowers deck the mead, trees crown the waving hill;
Oaks from their boughs a fhower of acorns throw;
Bees hoard their nectar in the trunk below.
Broad flocks that spread and whiten o'er the field,
Their fleecy tribute to the fhepherd yield;
No ravish'd matrons there, no fpurious race;
Each fire reflected in his infant's face :
Blefs'd in th' abundance of their native ftores,
No luft of plunder lures to diftant hores.
For law efs ftates, who fpurn each rule of right,
Their glory war, and robbery their delight,
All-righteous Jove, whofe glance nor darkness hides,
Nor time, nor place, a vengeance due provides.
Whole nations oft their rulers' fin atone,
And fuff ring millions rue the crimes of one.
Chill penury the poils with ficknets fhares;
And peftilence but gleans what famine fpares.
Each orphan parent mourns their children dead,
The race redeem'd by no prolific bed.
By vengeful Jove their armies pin'd and flain
In tainted camps or on the enfanguin'd plain :-
Towns to one grave fee yawning earthquakes fweep,
And navies plunging in the foamy deep!
Donchefter Gaol, Jan. 27, 1801.
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