'Tis not your debtors you

should pay
'Tis not for good men you should pray,
But for those fall'n debased by crimes,
You, prayers should offer at your shrines !
Their mite of calumny was thrown,
An humble offering to the throne.
Next the Secretary for Home,
Who sends the troublesome to roam ;
In other words, his venom threw,
The spleen and gall of those he slew
At Manchester, and at Newgate;
The latter of more recent date.
And then the double-coated Canning
So noted for his schemes and planning;
And the powder'd highland laddy,
With notorious pedling paddy;
They too, with many traitors more,
Perhaps a dozen or a score-
Their filth collected from a crew
Of half-starved foreigners, in threw :
The bag was seald, sent to the Hall
Of Lords, earthly and spiritual:
Another too of the like stuff
Was hied to the hounds by Lord Puff.
The scene clos'd, the curtain fell,
But first I heard the prompter's bell-
And wish'd it were che welcome knell,
To summon all those rogues to hell.

SCENE 2.

A noble trunk in back ground stood,
'Twas heart of oak, a kindred WOOD,
Next to my eager fancy rose
An injured Queen beset with woes;
Provided not with e'en a shed
From nightly dews to hide her head,
But forced beneath the spreading bouglis
Of gen'rous Wood, lo seek repose.
Beware, ye servants of the nation,
You'll feel John Bull's disapprobation ;
You paltry money-loving tribe,
You thought the Queen would take the bribe-
Unlike you, her Majesty disdains
Such trash, and honorably maintains

Her rights, and now triumphant reigns
Vol. JII. No. 17.

Uurivall'd in each Briton's breast,
Where once your master was caress'd,
'Till by foul deeds and drunken tits
He scar'd his sire out of his wits.
You may bring spies and rag'muffins,
Or mother Hun's spawn, and huffings,
And yeomen cavalry, the curs.-
And such like, weariug boots and spurs;
A set of tailors, barbers, ploughmen,
Yet their conduct prov'd them no men.
With such to couple 'twere a shame,
A soldier-'lis an hon'rable name ;
No, a soldier's is a patriot breast:
He sees these nations now oppress’d,
Will aid the suffering British brave
From pending ruin soon to save
Their wretched isle, and with a stroke
To blast a vile tyrant's yoke.
You
may

find birelings to screen you
Now-but not to stand between you
In day of trial-nor secure ye
From a people's threat'ning fury.
Oh, for a speedy dissolution
Of what is wrong-and retribution !

ACT II.-SCENE 1:

The God of dreams now beckon'd,
Aud bid me look at act the second.

I saw the inside of a palace
Where dwells not truth or godly grace,
My eyes dazzled with the splendour
Of female beauty :- the tender,
Soft embraces of the King
Made all philosophy take wiog.
There sat a Duke, and loll’d a 'squire,
And here reclin'd Britannia's sire ;
And there two panders-gen'rals late,
Jackalls for the royal palate ;
With blooming VIRGINS of three score,
Methinks in number, tive or four :
The ladies seem'd to have the spleen,
For a virtuous, injured Queen
Had just gone by, which so aların'd,
That all the household were well arm'll.
Thus 'uis ever with the bad,
For every turn drives them mad,

Such lewdness, such dissipation,
Of money plunder'd from the nation,
Was here display'd--Oh, if I dare
I'd bid you for such deeds prepare,
To banish tyrants far away
And the Cambrian monster slay.
In patience, I will copy Job,
My thoughts in other language robe.
At Carlton Cottage I was shock'd
To see all decent conduct mock’d,
And grave divines, and hobbling peers,
Soldiers and sailors by the ears,
A set of black-legs, thieves, and liars,
Pensioners and borough-buyers:

SCENE 2.
Weary from such disgraceful scenes,
And monarchial wily means,
I bid the God of Visions shew
A future day devoid of woe:

Again he wav'd the flower of magic
And bid a scene both comic-tragic,
Arise-I thank'd the Patriarch, and said,
“ Are all the days of sorrow fled;"
He smil'd and seem'd to nod assent
And to the rising vision bent,
My joyful imagination-
To behold the degradation
Of the the tyrants o'the nation.

What wrought the change I long'd to know, . And who bad prostrate laid the foe,

I could not learn--the God Supreme
Reserv'd that for another dreani.
And how a change of constitution,
Effected by a revolution,
Had taken place; and how the Queen
By British sons, had righted been:
In ecstacies I soon awoke,
But still beheld the galling yoke,
And saw beneath the royal cloak,
A rod just put in pickle,
Intended the poor Queen to tickle.
Many a one bas cut a switch
That often tickled his own breech;

For his trouble, may be the case
of personages now in place.

The morning beam'd the curtain dropt,
My dreaming for that night was stopt
But ere another week pass o'er,
I'll try to dream a little more.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE REPUBLICAN.

SIR,

Nothing can be more dangerous to the happiness of the community than deception: it destroys friendship, confidence, and hospi. tality, and wherever it exists, whether in the church, on the bench, at the bar, or in the senate, it is the duty of every man to endeavour to expose it.

When deception comes under the cloak of charity, that Christianlike word, our prejudices are so strong in favour of the appellation, that we cannot, or will not, divest ourselves of the idea, that every thing given in that name, is from pity and tenderness for those who stand in need. But if we examine the case fairly, we shall find that the word charity is like the word religion, it is used to corrupt and degrade us. As man supposes himself to be a favourite part of the creation, made in the image of his Creator for some noble purpose endowed with the power of reason and reflection, and having dominion over all-is it not strange that that being who has called him into existence as a favourite, giving him all these superior advantages over the rest ; that be should still

be the most ferocious, degraded, and unhappy being in all the creation? In no part of the brute creation do we find that they make war to destroy and kill each other of their own species, nor are they dependent on each other for their na. tural wants; if nature produces sufficient they have all an equal share; all is harmony, peace, and content. Yet man, that vainest of creatures, is a slave to his fellow; he makes war upon and destroys his own species; he prevents his fellow man from enjoying what nature has provided for all his wants ; he makes him to honour, obey, fear, and thank him for his daily wants, instead of the God of Nature ; he takes from him the common necessaries of life and doles out to him a poor pitiful allowance, just enough to keep life in motion, and that too in ihe name of charity. How long will man remain the dupe of his fellow, and receive that in charity which the God of Nature has al

lotted to him as his right? Will he never tear the veil from his eyes to see who these charitable men are? Is not our most gracious Majesty George the Fourth a great promoter of public charities, and the giver of alms to soup-shops ? has he not made a charitable offer to his wife of fisty thousand a year of the people's money, to live in a foreign country, because she is a disgrace to royalty, and admired by the people? are not the noble dukes, and every branch of that illustrious family, the promoters and patronisers of some public charity or other? are not the noble, marquisses, earls, viscounts, and lords, the promoters of charities ? are not the right reverend fathers in God, the archbishops, bishops, and the revered rectors, vicars, and priests of all denominations, great supporters of public charities ? And who are they that stand in need of almıs of such men? Is it not the industrious part of the community, the poor, miserable, half-starved labourers and mechanics--they who have by the sweat of their brow, Jaboured, fought, bled, and conquered to maintain the riglits, propers ty, and titles of such men--and can it then be called a charity to give unto such men an equal participation of the common necessaries of life? Can it be charity that induces the royal family to receive a million a-year from the people-can it be from feelings of humanity, that the noble dukes, earis, viscounts, and lords, receive immense sums of money, as placemen, pensioners, and sinecurists, independent of their immense private property, if they should give a few thousands back in the name of charity ? can it be cliarity in the right reverend the archbishops and bishops, the reverend the priests of all denominations to receive from the people about six millions a-year for their religious advice, which costs them nothing? can there be any humanity in such a religion, that draws from the pockets of the industrious part of the nity such an immense sum for teaching us a religious duty, which is comprised in a simple sentence, “ Do as you would be done unto.” . Can it be from motives of charity that Bibles are given to the poor, when bread is unattainable ? No, this cannot even have the appearance of charity, to see, on the one side, all the luxury and splendour, and on the orher extreme poverty and wretcheduess. But man does not ask for charity, but for his right to the common necessaries for his labour; every man's industry ought to procure them, and it would if it were not for the inequality of power and property. How is property acquired but by society? No man can become rich without the aid of society, and if we examine that case minutely it will be found that the accumulation of property is, in many instances, the effect of paying too little for the labour tbat producer it; the consequence of which is, that the working hand perishes in old age, and the employer abounds in affluence. It is not the loss of our trade and commerce, nor the increase of population, that could have reduced the labour and distressed the country, had the landed property been more equally divided. The land would give employ

VOL. III. No. 17.

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