VI.

Though criticism assail my name, And luckless blunders blot my fame,[94] O![95] make no needless bustle; As vain and idle it would be To waste one pitying thought on me, As to[96] “unPLUMB a RUSSELL”.[97]

[LYRICS OF HORACE, BOOK II., ODE XX.

TRANSLATED BY ARCHDEACON WRANGHAM.

Borne on no weak or vulgar wing, Upward through air, two-form’d, I’ll spring; Nor longer grovel here, but soar Where Envy shall pursue no more. Not I, from humble lineage sprung, Not I, dear Patron, whom thy tongue Summons to fame, will fear to die, Or bound by Styx’s fetters lie.

A rougher skin my legs assume; My upward limbs the cygnet’s plume Invests; my shoulders, fingers feel The feathery softness o’er them steal.

Fleeter than Icarus now I’ll haste, A tuneful swan, to Libya’s waste, And heaving sands, where Bospor’s wave Tosses, or Arctic tempests rave. Me Colchis, Dacia me shall learn, Who hides her fear of Marsian stern; Me Scythia’s hordes, the well-trained son Of Spain, and he who quaffs the Rhone.

From my mock bier be far away The loud lament, the funeral lay; And, tribute to my fancied doom, Far the vain honours of the tomb!—ED.]

[The charge of FOX’S having sent ADAIR to St. Petersburg, to counteract the measures of PITT’S government, first broached in Mr. Burke’s “Letter on the Conduct of the Minority,” has been vigorously contradicted, yet so late as April, 1854, it was alluded to as a fact by Lord Malmesbury in the House of Peers. It was, however, on this occasion again authoritatively denied by LORD CAMPBELL, who took occasion to observe that SIR ROBERT ADAIR was “now in his 90th year, and for many years had served his country with great assiduity and fidelity. He had been sent by successive ministers [Mr. Fox, Lord Grey, _Mr. Canning_ (who assisted in libelling him so often in the pages of the present work), Lord Wellesley, Lord Palmerston, the Duke of Wellington] to Vienna, to Constantinople, to Brussels, and to Berlin, and had represented the Crown of England upon some occasions of very great importance, in which he had uniformly acquitted himself to the satisfaction of the Government and for the benefit of his country. He believed a more honourable man had not lived in this country at any time.”

The following denial by Sir Robert Adair himself is copied from his autograph statement, prefixed to the _Life of Wilberforce_, published in 1838:—“This idle story is here accredited by Mr. Wilberforce, and inserted by his sons, without due examination. It was grounded on a journey I made to Vienna and St. Petersburg in 1791. Doctor Prettyman [_sic_], Bishop of Winchester, in a work entitled _The Life of the Right Hon. William Pitt_, published by him in 1823, brought forward the fact of my having gone upon this journey as a criminal charge against Mr. Fox, who, as he pretends, sent me upon it with the intent of counteracting some negociations then carrying on between Great Britain and Russia at St. Petersburg. I answered his accusation, I trust successfully, in two letters published by Longman & Co. [_Two Letters from Mr. Adair to the Bp. of Winchester, in answer to the charge of a High Treasonable Misdemeanour brought by his Lordship against Mr. Fox and himself in his Life of the Rt. Hon. W. Pitt_, 8vo., 1821], and explained the circumstances which induced me in my travels in 1791 to visit the two capitals above mentioned.—ROBERT ADAIR: 1838.”

The “Mission” was, however, firmly believed in, and PITT was urged, but in vain, by the Duke of Richmond and others of the Government, to arrest FOX for high treason.

The following extract from the _Political Memoranda of Francis, fifth Duke of Leeds, now first printed from the Originals in the British Museum; edited by Oscar Browning, for the Camden Society_, 1884, is an illustration of the rumours current at the time, and many years after.

“Saty. 24 Novr. 1792. LORD ST. HELENS dined with me. After the Ladies were gone upstairs we conversed, for some time on Foreign affairs.... Speaking of the Russian business of last year he reprobated in the strongest terms the conduct of FOX in sending an agent, MR. ADAIR, to Petersburg to counteract the negociations of this Court at that of Russia. He told me he knew for certain that MR. ADAIR had shewn to some English merchants at Petersburg the Empress’ Picture set in diamonds which had been given to him. That it was not one of the sort usually given, but of much greater value, being set round with large Brilliants, and the whole Picture covered with a Table Diamond instead of Chrystal. That this was a present seldom made but on some very particular occasion or to some great favorite (I remember to have seen such a one in the possession of P. Orlow). LD. ST. H. thought it must have been worth six or seven thousand pounds, and of too much value probably to have been meant for MR. ADAIR. The conclusion we both very naturally drew from this circumstance was not very favorable to MR. FOX.”

The following additional particulars relating to the connection between FOX and ADAIR may not be thought out of place here. They are extracted from the highly interesting and important _Croker Papers, being the Correspondence and Diaries, 1809–1830, of the Rt. Hon._ J. W. CROKER, _M.P., Edited by Louis J. Jennings. M.P._, 3 vols., 8vo., 1884.

The first is in these terms: “When ADAIR, whose father was a surgeon, went as FOX’S Ambassador to Russia, LORD WHITWORTH, then the King’s Minister, made a good joke, which tended not a little to lower ADAIR, and defeat his object. ‘Est-ce un homme très considérable, ce M. d’Adair?’ asked the EMPRESS. ‘Pas trop, Madame,’ replied Lord Whitworth, ‘quoique son père était grand seigneur [saigneur].’” The other is taken from a very long statement on various matters, made by K. George IV., when Prince of Wales, to Croker personally. Adair’s wife, the Prince said, was a Frenchwoman with whom ANDREOSSI, when here as Buonaparte’s Minister, intrigued. THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE told him—the Prince of Wales—that Mrs. Adair had offered her a bribe of £10,000 down, and as much more whenever she might want it, if she would communicate the Cabinet secrets, with which the French thought she could not fail to be acquainted, through her intimacy with all the leaders of the Government. This caused a breach between FOX and ADAIR. But the former could only tell ADAIR that an obstacle—which he could neither reveal nor overcome, but which did not affect or alter FOX’S personal regard for him—prevented his appointment to be FOX’S Under-Secretary of State.—_Croker Papers_, i. 293.—ED.]

[Illustration]

No. XIII.

Feb. 5, 1798.

ACME AND SEPTIMIUS; OR, THE HAPPY UNION CELEBRATED AT THE CROWN AND ANCHOR TAVERN.

FOX,[98] with TOOKE to grace his side, Thus address’d his blooming bride— “Sweet! should I e’er, in power or place, Another Citizen embrace; Should e’er my eyes delight to look On aught alive save JOHN HORNE TOOKE, Doom me to ridicule and ruin, In the coarse hug[99] of _Indian_ Bruin!” He spoke;[100] and to the left and right, NORFOLK hiccupp’d with delight. TOOKE,[101] his bald head gently moving, On the sweet patriot’s drunken eyes His wine-empurpled lips applies, And thus returns in accents loving: “So, my dear[102] CHARLEY, may success At length my ardent wishes bless, And lead, through discord’s low’ring storm, To one grand RADICAL REFORM! As, from this hour I love thee more Than e’er I hated thee before!” He spoke, and to the left and right, NORFOLK hiccupp’d with delight. With this good omen they proceed;[103] Fond toasts their mutual passion feed; In FOX’S breast HORNE TOOKE prevails Before[104] rich _Ireland_ and _South Wales_;[105] And FOX (unread each other book), Is Law and Gospel to HORNE TOOKE. When were such kindred souls united? Or wedded pair so much delighted?

[ACME AND SEPTIMIUS. FROM CATULLUS.

SEPTIMIUS said, and fondly prest The doating ACME to his breast:— “My Acme, if I prize not thee With love as warm as love can be, With passion spurning any fears Of growing faint in length of years, Alone may I defenceless stand To meet, on Lybia’s desert sand, Or under India’s torrid sky, The tawny lion’s glaring eye!” LOVE, before who utter’d still On the left-hand omens ill, As he ceased his faith to plight Laugh’d propitious on the right. Then ACME gently bent her head, Kiss’d with those lips of cherry red The eyes of the delightful boy, That swam with glistening floods of joy; And whisper’d as she closely prest— “SEPTIMIUS, soul of ACME’S breast, Let all our lives and feelings own One lord, one sovereign, Love alone! I yield to love, and yield to thee, For thou and love are one to me. Though fond thy fervent heart may beat, My feelings glow with greater heat, And madder flames my bosom melt Than all that thou hast ever felt.”—ED.]

[The following account of the celebration of FOX’S Birth-day, printed in the _Anti-Jacobin_, has not hitherto appeared in the editions of the _Poetry_. _The Song by Mr. Fox_ refers to the Subscription raised, after a meeting at the Crown and Anchor, in the summer of 1793, for relieving him in his then present need, and purchasing an Annuity for him. A Caricature by GILLRAY on this meeting was published on the 12th June, 1793.

MR. FOX’S BIRTH-DAY.

The public, distracted with the various accounts of the celebration of Mr. Fox’s Birth-day, naturally turn to us for an authentic detail of that important event—from a recollection of the correct and impartial statement we gave in a former Number, of what passed at a MEETING OF THE FRIENDS OF FREEDOM [page 32].

To justify their confidence, we have had recourse to the _Morning Post_ and _Morning Chronicle_ (the _Courier_ being too stupid for our purpose), whose statements we have carefully read, and corrected from the information of several gentlemen who were present. We are thus enabled to lay before our readers a genuine narrative of the whole proceeding, which we defy the tongue of Slander to controvert in any material point.

As Mr. Fox’s reputation had been for some time on the decline, it was thought necessary by the party (who are in great want of a _Head_) to make as respectable an appearance as possible on the present occasion. It was therefore suggested (at a previous meeting of confidential friends) that if the unfortunate shyness which subsisted between the _Whig Club_ and the _Corresponding Society_ could be opportunely removed by a few unimportant concessions on the part of the former, such a number of citizens might be readily procured from that respectable body as would serve to give the day an _éclat_ it had not experienced since the fatal schism of 1792.

This hint, so reasonable in itself, was immediately adopted, and Sir FRANCIS BURDETT, who was well acquainted with their haunts, was ordered into the neighbourhood of Smithfield with a competent number of tickets. He was on the point of setting out, when the Editor of the _Morning Post_ observed, that _forgery_[106] was so common at present, that he hardly thought it prudent to admit all who might come with a bit of scribbled paper: on this it was determined to distribute the price of admission amongst a certain number of people to be selected by the Envoy:—these, it was rightly concluded, would not fail to appear, from motives of vanity, as they could have no other possible chance of dining with the Premier Dupe, we would say Duke, in England. It now remained to determine the sum: this, after a short discussion, was fixed at Eight Shillings and Sixpence per head, “which,” said the Editor of the _Morning Post_, “will shew we cannot he persons of mean rank, since we can afford, in hard times, to give so much for a dinner”;[107] and Citizen BOSVILLE was desired to advance the money upon the credit of the Whig Fund.

Previous to the meeting, the chairman dispatched a note to Sir WILLIAM ADDINGTON, requesting that the Crown and Anchor might be exempted from the visitation of his runners during the morning of the 24th [Jan., 1798]. To this Sir WILLIAM assented, on condition that it should be recommended to the gentlemen, to leave their pocket-books and watches at home, that there might be as little temptation as possible to break the peace. Thus everything was arranged with a precaution that seemed to set accident at defiance.

Before four o’clock the passage to the LARGE ROOM was crammed, when, on a hint that dinner was on the point of being served, one of the head waiters advanced to the great door, and opened a wicket for the admission of the company, as fast as they paid down their money. Two or three had already passed in good order, when Mr. John Nicholls advanced, and instead of 8s. 6d., produced to the astonished receiver, _seventeen_ of his PRINTED SPEECHES, which, valuing them at sixpence a-piece, he contended would make up the sum required. These “_assets_” however, were absolutely rejected; and a violent dispute was on the point of commencing, when Sir CHRISTOPHER HAWKINS stept forward, and whispering a few words, which we did not hear, obtained leave for his friend to pass. The Speeches were therefore deposited, and Mr. NICHOLLS was already got within the wicket, when the man suddenly pulled him back by the coat, and the dispute recommenced with more violence than ever. Upon inquiry into the cause of this new tumult, we found that a wag (whom we afterwards discovered to be Mr. JEKYLL) had played the member for Tregony a trick; having taken an opportunity, in the crowd, of extracting the _genuine_ speeches from the pocket of the Honourable Member, and replacing them by the same number of the _spurious_ ones, printed for Mr. WRIGHT, the publisher of this Paper. These the waiter very properly refused to receive, alleging, and indeed truly, that instead of _six_ pence a-piece, the whole seventeen were not worth _six_ farthings.

This altercation continued so long, that the company grew impatient; and Mr. BRYAN EDWARDS, a little ashamed of his friend, who still continued obstinate, offered to furnish his quota. Harmony now seemed to be restored, when all at once a cry of astonishment broke forth that beggars all description. On putting his hand into his pocket for the price of admission, Mr. E. suddenly turned pale, and exclaimed, “by G—, gentlemen, some of you have picked my pockets!” A hundred voices instantly repeated the same cry, and a dreadful scene of confusion and uproar took place.

Ardebant cuncta et fracta compage ruebant.

What the consequence would have been, it is impossible to say, had not the waiter, with an air of authority, commanded the doors to be shut at each end of the passage, and every man to exhibit the contents of his pocket. A faint cry of No! No! was over-ruled; and Sir FRANCIS BURDETT produced an old Red Cap from the bosom of his shirt, which he put into the hands of the Duke of BEDFORD, who was appointed collector-general _by acclamation_. With this his Grace went, from man to man, executing his duty with the utmost fairness and impartiality; and when he had finished, poured out the contents of the cap before them all. These, it must be confessed, were a little heterogeneous, consisting, besides a large sum of money, of a brass knocker (this was immediately claimed by the landlord), a pewter pot squeezed together, a pair of pattens, a pint decanter, a duck ready trussed for dressing, a great quantity of potatoes, and a vinegar cruet. What was most extraordinary was, that though, as his Grace afterwards declared, the money was found in very unequal portions, yet the total sum, which was £222, 5s. 6d., being divided among the company, amounting to 523 persons, produced 8s. 6d. for each individual, with the exception of the _Member_ for _Tregony_, who brought nothing but his speech, and Capt. MORRIS, who pays for everything with a Song.

Nothing material occurred during the Dinner, which was allowed to be excellent of its kind, and where no such dish as Cow-heel (as maliciously reported in _The True Briton_) made its appearance.

As soon as the cloth was removed, the Duke of NORFOLK took the Chair amidst repeated plaudits,[108] and addressed the Company in these words:

“Three virtuous Men, Citizens, have stood up in defence of Liberty—MAXIMILIAN ROBESPIERRE, COLLOT D’HERBOIS, and CHARLES JAMES FOX:—The first is guillotined; the second transported to _Cayenne_; and the third”——Here all eyes were immediately upon Mr. FOX, who now entered the room, supported by Citizens JOHN GALE JONES and JOHN HORNE TOOKE—“As the Right Hon. Gentleman (resumed the Duke, a little peevishly) has mistaken his cue, and appeared sooner than he ought, I shall spare his modesty the panegyric I was preparing, and shortly conclude with proposing the health of CHARLES JAMES FOX.”—This was drank with three times three.

As soon as the clamour had subsided, Mr. FOX arose and said, “That language, at least any which he could boast, was inadequate to the exquisite feelings of gratitude which at once delighted and oppressed him, at the sight of so numerous and so respectable a body of free and independent Citizens, met for a purpose which would make this the proudest and the happiest day of his life”. Having dwelt a little on this idea, Mr. FOX observed, “that he would not interrupt the conviviality of the day by a long Speech: he knew there were several present who came to hear him make a long Speech, but he would not make a long Speech—to what purpose should he do it?—what could he add to the Speech lately delivered by him, and so faithfully recorded in the ANTI-JACOBIN, a contemptible Publication, but one to which the praise of Accuracy could not be denied. The new and extraordinary circumstances of the times called for new and extraordinary measures: he would, therefore, if they pleased, compress what he had to say into a _Song_—(_loud applauses_)—One word only.—He owed both the _burden_ and the _idea_ of this Song to the _Morning Chronicle_. He had yesterday, the 23rd, found there A BEGGING ADDRESS to the Nation, with DATE OBOLUM BELISARIO prefixed to it as a Motto. This had pleased him much, and this morning at breakfast he had endeavoured to adapt it, _mutatis mutandis_, to his own circumstances: he should now have the honour of giving it.”

SONG BY MR. FOX.

_To the Tune of_ “Good People of England, and all who love Ale.”

Good People of England, of every degree, Lords, Commoners, listen, O! listen to me; Republicans, Royalists, all—mark my ditty— You’ll find I’ve a number of claims on your pity— Date Obolum Belisario.

Ye who heard me assert that Lord NORTH, now so mourn’d, Was a _beast_ to be shunn’d, was a _fool_ to be scorn’d, Yet who saw me, with real or fancied alarms, Take the _fool_ to my councils, the _beast_ to my arms, Date Obolum Belisario.

Ye who heard me declare the SUBSCRIBERS of REEVES Were a scoundrel collection of cut-throats and thieves, Yet who saw me immediately after repair, And SUBSCRIBE at the Long-Room in Hanover Square, Date Obolum Belisario.

Ye who heard—when Invasion was close at our door, And _Parker_ and Liberty rul’d at the _Nore_— Ye who heard—no; I mean, who DID NOT HEAR me speak, While SHERIDAN,[109] damn him! affected to squeak, Date Obolum Belisario.

Ye who heard me repeat that Resistance, at length, Was reduc’d, by PITT’S Bill, to a question of _Strength_, And that _prudence_ alone——

We know not how far Mr. FOX might have proceeded, had he not been interrupted by a jangling of bells from the Side-table which immediately drew all eyes that way. This proceeded from Capt. MORRIS, who had fallen asleep during Mr. FOX’S Song, and was now nodding on his chair, with a large paper Cap on his head, ornamented with gilt tassels and bells, which one of the company had dexterously whipped on unperceived. The first motion was that of indignation; but the stupid stare of the unconscious Captain, who half opened his eyes at every sound of the bells as his head rose or fell, and immediately closed them again, _somno vinoque gravatus_, had such a powerful effect on the risible faculties of the Company, that they broke, as if by consent, into the most violent and convulsive fits of laughter; Mr. FOX himself not being exempt from the general contagion.

As soon as the Captain was made sensible of the cause of this uproar, he attempted to pull off the Cap, but was prevented by a Citizen from the _Corresponding Society_, who maintained that the Company had a right to be amused by the Captain in what manner they pleased; and that, as he seemed to amuse them more effectually in _that state_ than in any other, he insisted, for one, on his continuing to wear the Cap. This was universally agreed to, with the exception of the Duke of NORFOLK. The Captain was therefore led to the upper table, with all his “jangling honours loud upon him!” Here, as soon as he was seated, his Noble Friend called upon him for a Song.

The Captain sang the “PLENIPO” in his best manner.

This was received with great applause; and then the Duke gave “The Defenders—of Ireland”—(_three times three_).

Captain MORRIS then began

“And all the Books of Moses”;—

but was interrupted, before he had finished the first line, by Mr. TIERNEY, who declared he would not sit there and hear anything like ridicule on the Bible.[110]—(_Much coughing and scraping_.)—Mr. Erskine took God to witness, that he thought the Captain meant no harm;—and a gentleman from Cambridge, whose name we could not learn, said, with great _naïveté_, that it was no more than was done every day by his acquaintance. Mr. TIERNEY, however, persisted in his opposition to the Song, and Captain MORRIS was obliged to substitute “Jenny Sutton” in the place of it.

But the good humour of the company was already broken in upon, and Mr. TIERNEY soon after left the room (to which he did not return) with greater marks of displeasure in his face than we ever remember to have seen there.

The Duke now gave RADICAL REFORM (_three times three, followed by continued shouts of applause_).

A Counsellor JACKSON attempted to sing “Paddy Whack,” but was soon silenced, on account of his stupid perversion of the words, and his bad voice.

Citizen GALE JONES then rose and said—that he was no Orator, though he got his living by oratory, being Chairman of a Debating Society. He had also written a book—which he was told had some merit. He did not rise to recommend it, but he thought it right to _hint_, that those who wished for Constitutional information might be supplied with it at the Bar; the price was trifling—Eighteen-pence was nothing to the majority of the Company;—to himself, indeed—(here Mr. HORNE TOOKE called out Order! Order! with some marks of impatience)—He begged pardon, he would say no more—there was no one whom he valued like Mr. TOOKE, there was no one indeed to whom he was under such obligations; the very shoes he had on were charged by Citizen HARDY to Mr. TOOKE’S account—Mr. TOOKE was also a great friend to a Radical Reform—he loved a Radical Reform himself; the Poor must always love Radical Reforms—he should therefore beg leave to propose the health of Mr. JOHN HORNE TOOKE.—(_Three times three._)

Mr. TOOKE rose, and spoke nearly as follows: “You all know, Citizens, in what detestation I once held the Man whose Birth-day we are now met to commemorate. You cannot yet have forgot the ‘TWO PAIR OF PORTRAITS’ I formerly published, nor the glaring light in which I hung up him and his father to the execration of an indignant posterity. You must also be apprized of the charges of Corruption, Insurrection, and Murder (_much hissing and applause, the latter predominant_) which I brought against him, justly, as I must still think, at a former Election for Westminster. How happens it then, you will say, that I now come forward to do him honour? I will tell you. At the last Election for Westminster, I had still my suspicions of his sincerity; he appeared too anxious to preserve measures with the spruce and powdered Aristocrats who usually attended him to the Hustings; nor was it till the fourth or fifth day before the close of the Poll, that those suspicions were removed. Aware that he was losing ground among the People, he determined to make one great effort to re-establish his popularity. He therefore came forward, and addressed the free and independent Electors in front of the Hustings, in a Speech, of which the remembrance yet warms my heart. From that moment, I marked him as my own! Retractation was impossible; and the panegyric he lately delivered on a Radical Reform, in a House which I despise too much to name, was the natural and inevitable consequence of that day’s declaration. You may remember, that when I addressed my Friends, I only said, ‘Gentlemen, Mr. FOX has spoken my sentiments; he has even gone beyond them—but I thank him’.—What I then said I now repeat, with regard to his Speech on a late occasion—‘I AM MOST PERFECTLY SATISFIED WITH HIS CONDUCT; NOR DO I WISH TO ADVANCE ONE STEP IN THE CAUSE OF REFORM, BEYOND WHAT MR. FOX HAS PLEDGED HIMSELF TO GO!!!’”[111]

Mr. TOOKE then begged leave to propose Mr. FOX’S health for the second time, and sat down amidst a thunder of applause.[112]

The Duke of NORFOLK observed to the Company, that as they had drunk the health of a Man dear to the People, he would now call upon them to drink the health of their Sovereign[113]—here a hiccup interrupted his Grace, and a most violent cry of “No Sovereign! no Sovereign!” resounded through the room, and continued for several minutes, notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of the Duke to be heard. Order was, however, restored at length, when his Grace gently chid the Company for taking advantage of a slight infirmity of nature, to impute a design to him which was wholly foreign from his heart—(_loud applause_). He augured well, however, of their patriotism, and would now afford them an opportunity of repairing the injury they had done him, by giving the Toast as he intended—“THE HEALTH OF OUR SOVEREIGN—THE MAJESTY OF THE PEOPLE”.[114]—(_Loud and incessant shouts of applause._)

A disgusting scene of uproar and confusion followed, which we shall not attempt to detail. The Chairman sank under the table in a state of stupefaction, and the rest of the Company, maddened alike with noise and wine, committed a thousand outrages, till they were literally turned into the streets by the Waiters. As many of them as could speak were conducted home by the watchmen; others were conveyed “in silent majesty” to the Round-house; and not a few of them slept out the remainder of the night upon the steps of the neighbouring houses. The Reporters of the Jacobin Papers were sought out, and conveyed home by the pressmen, devils, &c., and one poor youth, whom we afterwards found to be a Writer in the _Morning Chronicle_ (hired for the day by _The True Briton_)[115] had his pockets picked of a clean white Handkerchief and a Notebook, after being severely beaten for deserting his former Employers.

[Illustration: '_The]

No. XIV.

Feb. 12, 1798.

It has been our invariable custom to suppress such of our correspondents’ favours as conveyed any compliments to ourselves; and we have deviated from it in the present instance, not so much out of respect to the uncommon excellence of the Poem before us, as because it agrees so intimately with the general design of our paper—to expose the deformity of the French Revolution, to counteract the detestable arts of those who are seeking to introduce it here, and above all, to invigorate the exertions of our countrymen against every Foe, foreign and domestic, by showing them the immense and inexhaustible resources they yet possess in British Courage and British Virtue!

TO THE AUTHOR OF THE ANTI-JACOBIN.

FOE TO THY COUNTRY’S FOES! ’tis THINE to claim From Britain’s genuine sons a British fame— Too long French manners our fair isle disgraced; Too long French fashions shamed our native taste. Still prone to change, we half-resolved to try The proffered charms of FRENCH FRATERNITY.

Fair was her form, and FREEDOM’S honour’d name Conceal’d the horrors of her secret shame: She claim’d some kindred with that guardian pow’r, Long worshipp’d here in Britain’s happier hour: Virtue and Peace, she said, were in her train, The long-lost blessings of ASTRÆA’S reign— But soon the vizor dropp’d—her haggard face Betray’d the FURY lurking in the GRACE— The false attendants that behind her press’d, In vain disguised, the latent guilt confess’d: PEACE dropt her snow-white robe, and shudd’ring show’d AMBITION’S mantle reeking fresh with blood; Presumptuous FOLLY stood in REASON’S form, Pleased with the power to ruin,—not reform; PHILOSOPHY, proud phantom, undismay’d, With cold regard the ghastly train survey’d; Saw PERSECUTION gnash her iron teeth, While _Atheists_ preach’d the _eternal sleep of death_; Saw ANARCHY the social chain unbind, And DISCORD sour the blood of human kind; Then talk’d of Nature’s Rights, and Equal Sway; And saw her system safe—AND STALK’D AWAY!

Foil’d by our ARMS, where’er in ARMS we met, With ARTS LIKE THESE the foe assails us yet. Hopeless the fort to storm, or to surprise, More secret wiles his envious malice tries; Diseas’d himself, spread wide his own despair, Pollutes the fount, and taints the wholesome air.

While many a Chief, to glory not unknown, Alarms each hostile shore, and guards our own, ’Tis THINE, the latent treachery to proclaim; An humbler warfare, but the cause the same. In vain had POMPEY crush’d the PONTIC HOST, And chas’d the pirate swarm from every coast; The crew that leagu’d their country to o’erthrow; The base confederates of a GALLIC[116] foe; Had not the Civic Consul’s watchful eye Track’d through the windings of conspiracy, Exposed, confounded, shamed, and forced away, The “JACOBIN REFORMER[117] of his day”.

’Tis THINE a subtler mischief to pursue, And drag a deeper, darker, plot to view; Whate’er its form, still ready to engage, Detect its malice, or resist its rage; Whether it whispers low, or raves aloud, In sneers profane, or blasphemies avow’d;[118] Insults its King, reviles its Country’s cause, And, ’scaped from Justice, braves the lenient Laws: Whate’er the hand in desperate faction bold, By native hate inspired, or foreign gold; Traitors absolved, and libellers released, The recreant Peer, or renegado Priest;[119] The _Sovereign-people’s_ cringing, crafty slave, The dashing fool, and instigating knave, Each claims thy care; nor think the labour vain— VERMIN HAVE SUNK THE SHIP THAT RULED THE MAIN.

’Tis THINE, with Truth’s fair shield to ward the blow, And turn the weapon back upon the foe: To trace the skulking fraud, the candid cheat, That can retract the falsehood, yet repeat; To wake the listless, slumb’ring as they lie, Lapt in th’ embrace of soft security; To rouse the cold, re-animate the brave, And shew the cautious all they have to save.

Erect that standard ALFRED first unfurl’d, Britain’s just pride, the wonder of the world; Whose staff is Freedom’s spear, whose blazon’d field Beams with the CHRISTIAN CROSS, the REGAL SHIELD; That standard which the PATRIOT BARONS bore, Restored, from RUNIMEDE’S resounding shore; Which since consign’d to WILLIAM’S guardian hand, Waved in new splendour o’er a grateful land; Which oft in vain by force or fraud assail’d, Has stood the shock of ages—and prevail’d.

Yes! the BRIGHT SUN OF BRITAIN yet shall shine— The clouds are earth-born, but his fire divine; That temperate splendour, and that genial heat, Shall still illume, and cherish Empire’s Seat; While the red Meteor, whose portentous glare Shot plagues infectious through the troubled air; Admired, or fear’d no more, shall melt away, Lost in the radiance of HIS BRIGHTER DAY!

[Illustration: '_DESIGN]

LINES. _Written under the Bust of Charles Fox at the Crown and Anchor._

I’ll not sell Uncle NOLL, Charles Surface cries;— I’ll not sell CHARLEY FOX, John Bull replies: Sell him, indeed! who’ll find me such another?— Fox is above all price; so hold your pother. _Morning Post, Feb. 6._

To make our readers some amends for this miserable doggrel, we will present them, in our turn, with some lines written _under a bust_, NOT _at the Crown and Anchor_, by an ENGLISH TRAVELLER just returned from Petersburgh. We believe they are more just; we are certain they are more poetical.

LINES. _Written by a Traveller at Czarco-zelo under the Bust of a certain Orator, once placed between those of Demosthenes and Cicero._

THE GRECIAN Orator of old, With scorn rejected PHILIP’S laws, Indignant spurn’d at foreign gold, And triumph’d in his country’s cause.

A foe to every wild extreme, ’Mid civil storms, the Roman Sage Repress’d Ambition’s frantic scheme, And check’d the madding people’s rage.

Their country’s peace, and wealth and fame, With patriot zeal their labours sought, And Rome’s or Athens’ honoured name Inspired and govern’d every thought.

Who now, in this presumptuous hour, Aspires to share the Athenian’s praise? —The advocate of foreign power, The Æschines of later days.