TIME was when haughty bigots ruled
By laws that fierce intolerance taught,
And this poor, fetter'd world was school'd
In falsehoods heathen knaves had wrote.
When Plato, Cato,-men like these,
Whom e'en a god could hardly please
In action and opinion ;-

Men dead and of whose dust the wind
Had purged the earth, the human mind
Held under dark dominion;
When scarce a “liberal" seed was sown,
And "liberal" people were unknown.

Ah, horrid time!-Perchance 'twas plain
A different creed-a change of side,
Would fill your empty purse, and gain
Places, and all that they provide.
Perchance your seat in Parliament,
Your place, it's fees and all, seem'd bent
On to another sliding;

While nothing but your going o'er
To faith and flag you scorn'd before,
Could warrant their abiding.

And yet you could not change or swerve,
Alas! to get, or to preserve.

You ventured-'sdeath! the land became Convulsed ;-what mockery, jests, and sneers!

Scorn flash'd upon ye maddening flame;
The nation's curse assail'd your ears.
Apostate! Traitor!-every name
That scatters friends and murders fame,
Was on your forehead printed.
The dirtiest pauper of the tribe,-
The very felon flung the gibe,
And fierce derision squinted.
You fell to where the branded fall,
Disdain'd, suspected-shunn'd by all.

Opinions false and musty;
Philosophers we scorn, we find
All moralists fools, the halt and blind
We change for leaders trusty.
On, on, ye glorious Whigs!—proceed,—
We follow wheresoe'er ye lead.

Yet 'tis the best of all new things→→→
The sweet new things your tongues pro-
claim,

That turn-coatism bright honour brings;—
That faithfulness is damning shame.
We feel its truth-we burn to change,
From creed to creed we gaily range,
Each day we take a new one.
While novelty its sweets dispenses,
And Whiggery's praise enchants the

senses,

Care we, which is the true one? Consistency we hate, 'tis found The only thing to stain and wound.

See ROBINSON, the Treasury's lord, What precious incense round him blazes! By Tories, Papists-Whigs adored; E'en Brougham, the man of slander,praises. Hark! hark! What draws these deafen

ing shouts,

That burst alike from Ins and Outs,
And make St Stephen's tremble ?
What has he done, what feat display'd,
That has of Burke a driveller made,
Or makes him Pitt resemble?
Say, has he paid the debt-or said,
The window tax must not be paid?

Ah no, the man recants,-he flies
To join the Papists' motley host;
This makes the thundering plaudits rise;
'Tis this that forms his wondrous boast.
He pauses not till holy DOYLE,
And wise O'CONNELL, end their toil,
And brilliant sunshine scatter.
The Papal thunders greet his ear,
And mighty Papal hosts appear,
To dust the church to batter.
This renders, in the nation's eyes,
His change more glorious and more wise.

On, Frederick, on,-nay, tarry not
Between no two opinions halt;
Return alone will give the blot;
To pause will only be the fault.
Of Whiggish projects take thy fill,
And utter broader Whiggism still;
Sin lies but in repentance.
Appeal to liberality,-
Say "liberal," till the word we see
Some twice in every sentence.
If Brougham maintain it stolen thunder,
Let Canning then cut up his blunder.

What is illiberal must not be :-
The test, just and unerring, see,
And use it without quarrel;
Eat liberal beef, drink liberal wine;
Speak liberal law, and gayly shine
In liberal apparel.

Illiberal food is out of season;
Illiberal words are just not treason.

Go o'er, and for the Papists vote;
Turn Liberal, nay, turn Papist-then
Shall each enlightened, liberal throat,
Pronounce thee first and best of men.
Thou then in Jeffrey's page shalt shine;-
Whig prints will call thee quite divine;
Brougham with thy friends will number.
Care not what may befall the realm,
Ere change the land may overwhelm
Thou in the tomb may'st slumber.
Examples swarm; nay, speak the word,
Change sell thy conscience-be ador'd!

Ah, why by YORK's illustrious DUKE,
Is England's bigot-Church preferr'd?
Why will he brave the Whig's rebuke,
And idly speak of GEORGE THE THIRD?
Why will he wander to the grave
Of this dead King for counsel,-lave
With tears his lifeless ashes?
A different light our sky illumes;
All that HE taught the blaze consumes,
That now upon us flashes.

Before our eyes new systems swim ;-
We follow Bonaparte-not him.

What is an oath ?-shall vows to God Bind man?-shine the new lights in

vain?

Shall conscience form a chain-a rod,
And not a thing to sell for gain?
Law-makers' laughter sits on both;
Shall kings and people then be loath
To add their laughter to it?
Swear as you please, and any scribe
Amidst the news-inventing tribe,
Will, as you like, construe it.
If this content ye not, resolve ye
To seek the Pope, he will absolve ye.

When Parliament the Church forsakes-
Stern freedom's nurse-to raise another
That bondsmen of its votaries makes,
Ah, Prince, thy foolish scruples smother.
Who-who may gain by this like thee?
A fetter'd King thy brother see;
His will's by statute bounded.
Be, till the Papist conquers, mute,
Then mount the throne, reign absolute,
By none but slaves surrounded.
No longer with thy interest trifle;
This might the stoutest conscience stifle.

Shall no one change but politicians, When none apostates now can be?

Change change all callings, all conditions;

All things, as well as trade, are free. More liberal views, GREAT GEORGE, acquire;

Forget all taught Thee by thy SIRE;
His life, cast from before Thee.
The Great NAPOLEON copy,-then
Thou'lt ravish all enlightened men;
All Liberals will adore Thee;
Then Mackintosh will chaunt thy praise,
With all the "hirelings" Jeffrey pays.

Why, CHESTER'S BISHOP, dost thou bring
The people's prayers before the Lords?
Why dost thou scourge the sagelLord King,
Unto the utter loss of words?
Illiberal man! thy church betray;
Fly to the Pope, and take, I pray,
Us to the Holy Father.

What may not powers like thine obtain?
A Cardinal's hat thou'lt surely gain;
Perchance the Popedom rather.
Ah, lead us to the liberal things,
The Romish Church around it flings.

Hail, Britain's beauteous daughters, hail!
Who, what the seraphs are, reveal;
Shall fashion woo you now and fail?
From man no lesson will ye steal?
The witching blush-the melting eyes,
Whose blaze both charms and purifies,-
Lights love-scathes vicious feeling;
The lips whence virtue's warblings flow;
The soul, pure as the virgin-snow,
When from the cloud 'tis stealing:
These win our liberal hearts no longer,
We must have charms more liberal-
stronger.

Be liberal-change, and from you shake
A principle with every flounce;
New tenets with new ribbons take;
And old ones with old gowns renounce.
The heathenism your grandams taught,
Forget-with empty ills 'tis fraught;
I fear 'twill make us hate ye.
Seek some one of the liberal school,
To teach you how ye still may rule;
Still make us angels rate ye.
Fear not such tutors now abound;
'Tis of the old school none are found.

I'll change myself—I'll e'en go o'er ;
Why should I fight against the nation?
I'll be your foe, ye Whigs, no more;
Come, Brougham, and give me " educa-
tion."

Yet gentle be thy speech and touch,
I love not sound and fury much,
I cannot bear rough fingers:

My wrath a breath will sometimes move,
And yet 'tis natural-some small love
Of old things in me lingers.

Smile, if thou canst, and clap my back; I cannot learn from scowl and thwack.

And shouldst thou deign to hear my call,
Give to no mad invectives vent;
Use far less powder, and more ball;
Deal much in fact and argument.
Thou hast an ugly way of using
Much Billingsgate, and then abusing
All who may dare retort it.
Now, if thou play'st this trick on me,
I fear thou wilt thy pupil see
Apt on thyself to sport it.
And if thou chance to strike, I trow,
This pupil may return the blow.

But bring not Thomas Paine at first;
Use science-teach me by degrees;
Begin with pleasant drink,-my thirst,
At last, may greatly love the lees.
And swear by what binds liberal men,
That should thy lessons fail thee, then,
(Doubt on my spirit flashes)-
Thou wilt not bind me to a stake,
Pile round me faggots, light them,-make
Me only bigot's ashes.

Thy speech, made midst thy Scotlandglories,

Seem'd e'en to wish to burn all Tories.

Mark, Whigs, I'll change by rule alone,
Like other men ;-my price I'll feel;
I'll have my bargain lawyer-drawn ;
I'll have you bound by stamp and seal.
First some great patron,-next a seat
Amongst the Commons,-then 'tis meet
And sanction'd well by reason,-
You bind yourselves to make me leader,
When place we reach, if no seceder
Before that blessed season-
Brougham,-all your heads, I dare en-
gage,

Will then be quite worn out by age.

Hence with the idle mockery-hence !
Thy arrows, wanton Satire, spare.-
Heaven! in thy wrath, no plague dispense,
To make me what the turncoats are.
Purge me, yea! purge me thrice with
fire;-

Keep from me all that men desire;
Friends, wealth, fame, rank, and splendour;
But lead me not from side to side,
As lib'ral Ministers may provide ;-
As parties gain may tender ;-

As that, long sigh'd for, may be gain'd, Or that, endanger'd, be retain’d.

I wander near Saint Stephen's door;
What though its door is closed on me;
What though upon its sacred floor
I in no party-ranks may be ;
Yet I can there my party find;
There on me party leaders bind
The chains ne'er to be broken.-
There, spite of faction's triumphs,-spite
Of all the new-invented light,

My party creed is spoken.

There party-colours o'er me wave, Which charm and make me party's slave.

The pigmies living, there, my eyes
See not,-my ear attends to none ;-
The giant-dead around me rise;
Their eloquence I hear alone.
Hail, spectral host! midst you no fool >
Attempts to give us madman's rule ;-
Calls falsehoods, truth and reason.
I see no wild economists,
To madly enter ruin's lists,
And teach us lies and treason.
No innovating lawyers stand
Amidst your proud and glorious band.

Ah, none midst you new systems spin
From out the abstract-sleeper's vision,
None think consistency a sin,
Or old things cover with derision.
Ye on our institutions throw
No fire-brands, that the frightful glow
May duly liberalise them.

If be our boasts and blessings hoary;
The more, not less, you in them glory,
You still more highly prize them;
You make the Liberal's creed your jest ;
You scorn his slang, his schemes,-his
test.

Immortal men! ye point around
Ye all your mighty works unfold;
From them the words in thunder sound-
"If speech be vain, the proofs behold!"
I see I hear-abjure each creed,
But yours alone;-oh, hear me plead ;-
Give, if not wisdom, merit.

If power, I may not have, give will ;-
Withhold your talents, let me still
Your patriotism inherit.

Still o'er me let your colours fly;—
Your party-bondsman let me die!
H. H. II.