LORD WELLINGTON AND THE MINISTERS.

So gently in peace Alcibiades smiled,

1813.

While in battle he shone forth so terribly grand, That the emblem they graved on his seal was a child, With a thunderbolt placed in its innocent hand.

Oh, WELLINGTON! long as such Ministers wield

Your magnificent arm, the same emblem will do; For, while they're in the Council and you in the Field, We've the babies in them, and the thunder in you!

To the Editor of the Morning Chronicle.

SIR,-In order to explain the following Fragment, it is necessary to refer your readers to a late florid description of the Pavilion at Brighton, in the apartments of which, we are told, "FUM, The Chinese Bird of Royalty," is a principal ornament.

I am, Sir, yours, etc.

MUM.

FUM AND HUM,

The two Birds of Royalty.

a

One day the Chinese Bird of Royalty, Fum,
Thus accosted our own Bird of Royalty, Hum,
In that Palace or China-shop (Brighton--which is it?)
Where Fum had just come to pay Hum a short visit. —
Near akin are these Birds, though they differ in nation
(The breed of the Hums is as old as creation),
Both full-craw'd Legitimates-both birds of prey,
Both cackling and ravenous creatures, half way
'Twixt the goose and the vulture, like Lord C-stL-R-GII;
While Fum deals in Mandarins, Bonzes, Bohea-
Peers, Bishops, and Punch, Hum, are sacred to thee!
So congenial their tastes, that, when Fum first did light on
The floor of that grand China-warehouse at Brighton,
The lanterns, and dragons, and things round the dome
Were so like what he left, “ Gad,” says Fum, “ I'm at

home.” And when, turning, he saw Bishop L---GE, “ Zooks,

it is," Quoth the Bird, “ yes—I know him-a Ponze, by his

phiz

"And that jolly old idol he kneels to so low "Can be none but our round-about godhead, fat Fo!" It chanced, at this moment, th' Episcopal Prig Was imploring the P-E to dispense with his wig,* Which the Bird, overhearing, flew high o'er his head, And some TOBIT-like marks of his patronage shed, Which so dimm'd the poor Dandy's idolatrous eye, That while F UM cried "Oh Fo!" all the Court cried "Oh fie!"

But, a truce to digression.-These Birds of a feather
Thus talk'd, t'other night, on State matters together-
(The PE just in bed, or about to depart for❜t,
His legs full of gout, and his arms full of

-);

"I say, HUM," says FUM-FUM, of course, spoke Chinese, But, bless you, that's nothing-at Brighton one sees Foreign lingoes and Bishops translated with ease"I say, Hum, how fares it with Royalty now? "Is it up? is it prime? is it spooney-or how?" (The Bird had just taken a flash-man's degree

Under B-

-E, Y

——TH, and young Master L——.

* In consequence of an old promise that he should be allowed to wear his own hair, whenever he might be elevated to a Bishopric by his R-1 H

--SS.

"As for us in Pekin”. -here a devil of a din

From the bed-chamber came, where that long Mandarin,
C-STL-R-GH (whom FUM calls the Confusius of prose),
Was rehearsing a speech upon Europe's repose
To the deep, double-bass of the fat idol's nose!

(Nota bene. His lordship and L-V-RP-L come,
In collateral lines, from the old Mother HUM,-
C-STL-R-GH A HUм-bug-L-V-RP-L a HUM-drum.)
The speech being finish'd, out rush'd C-STL-R-GH,
Saddled HUM in a hurry, and whip, spur, away!
Through the regions of air, like a Snip on his hobby,
Ne'er paused till he lighted in St. Stephen's lobby.

*

EPISTLE FROM TOM CRIB TO BIG BEN,

Concerning some foul play in a late Transaction.*

"Ahi, mio Ben!"-METASTASIO.+

WHAT! BEN, my old hero, is this your renown?
Is this the new go ?-kick a man when he's down!
When the foe has knock'd under, to tread on him then-
By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, BEN!
"Foul! foul!" all the lads of the fancy exclaim-
CHARLEY SHOCK is electrified-BELCHER spits flame-
And MOLYNEUX-ay, even BLACKY cries "Shame!"
Time was, when JOHN BULL little difference spied
"Twixt the foe at his feet and the friend at his side;
When he found (such his humour in fighting and eating)
His foe, like his beef-steak, the sweeter for beating—
But this comes, Master BEN, of your cursed foreign no-
tions,

Your trinkets, wigs, thingumbobs, gold lace, and lotions;

* Written soon after B**n*p*rte's transportation to St. Helena.

Tom, I suppose, was "assisted" to this motto by Mr. Jackson, who, it is well known, keeps the most learned company going.