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Would play every part, and proposes for all,
But while they prepared the defeat of their foes, Within their own camp civil discord arose ; And famish'd and gaunt, PADDY PONSONBY's* pack, Like the hounds of Actæon, their huntsman attack.
"What boots our debate,"—thus the rebels began, "What avails the discussion of topic or plan?
No plan can succeed, and no party can thrive, "With a leader who neither can lead us nor drive: "Six Sessions of patience have witness'd our toil, "Six Sessions of labour, not lighten'd by spoil;
"For six mortal years, as rhetorical graces "We truisms cheer'd, and extoll'd common-places; "Wash'd over with praise every folly and flaw, "And smil'd at his jokes, and look'd grave at his law,
* The Right Honourable George Ponsonby, M. P. for Peterborough, the reputed leader of the opposition.-E.
"(Could friendship do more ?) while indifferent folks "All smil'd at his law, and look'd grave at his jokes, "With patience we suffer'd in hopes he might mend, "But patience and hope must at last have an end.
Expect, then, to see half the party secede, or
"Provide us with some one more fit to be leader."
Applauses ensued; and in shouts from the crowd "New leader-new leader," is echoed aloud. Less hoarse is the wave on the Hebridan shore, Less loudly does MATHEW for Popery roar ; Less deep are the groans from the Bar that arise, When NEWPORT begins on the Irish excise;
Or when, as the candles burn dim in their sockets, WILL SMITH rises up with both hands in his pockets; On a course of morality fearlessly enters,
And drawls all the twaddle of all the Dissenters.
But though to a change all appear to agree, No two coincide who the leader should be ;
Each states his own merits-the prudent, the bold,
At length 'tis proposed to allay all their grudges, That GRENVILLE and GREY † shall conjointly be judges;
Unable their rancour a moment to smother,
The followers of neither will trust in the other.
*Lord Grenville, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in Mr. Pitt's administration.-E.
+ Lord Grey, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in Mr' Fox's administration.-E.
And smell to one nosegay of sav'ry perfume,
Which the Whigs, too close pack'd, now exhale through the room.
The Chairmen thus named, proclamation is made; (CHARLES WYNNE being Crier, with OSSULSTON'S
And the Meeting is strongly entreated to note
(The few who could speak, and the crowd who
should vote ;)
As it was not the SPEAKER who now sat before 'em, They ought to maintain some degree of decorum.
Then WHITBREAD arose (ever sure to be first When Vanity's bubbles are going to burst):
"Who dares," he began, " I repeat who can dare
"His claims for this honour with mine to compare?
My talents so various, my industry such,
"I touch every theme, and adorn all I touch!
* The voices of these gentlemen are more than once alluded
to in other articles as being somewhat peculiar.-E.
+ Nullum fere genus non tetigit, nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.
"Will any one promise, like me, to oppose “All men and all measures, my friends and my foes?
"Like me, who can say, that he never was known
"To adopt or support any plan but his own? "To the dictates of reason or feeling to bend?
"In short, who can say, that he ne'er had a friend? "Have you eyes, have you ears, can you write, can you read?
"And do you yet doubt who is fit to succeed? "Did not BONAPART* make the Moniteur quote, "With ample applause, both my words and my vote? "And Denmark, enraged at her capital's breaches, "In bitter state papers make use of my speeches? "Do MADISON's journals not ring with my fame, "And place next to JEMMY's your SAMUEL's name? "Lo! MURAT the Great, (whom the Austrians fret,) "Lauds WHITBREAD the Great in the Naples Gazette;
*It would seem that the admirers of Buonaparte affect to call him by the French trisyllabic contraction of his name, while, elsewhere, the name is sounded as a quadrisyllable, agreeably to its true Italian pronunciation.