Here's our "worthy," right "Honorable member" here, F— !

As a choice "representative" of Whig veracity, Which, whenever convicted of telling one stretcher, Can fall back on another bold piece of mendacity. But the next time he may, sir,

Try his hand in that way, sir,

Against Messrs. C-mbr-l-ng & Co., we beseech him,
That he'll manage it better,

With his "letter for letter, "

Than to let his own paper be the first to impeach him.*

And here is to all our pro-di-gi-ous boys, sir,

The pet bantlings of Whigg'ry, its glory and wonderIf their tender young lungs now can make such a noise, sir, When they 've years of discretion, good Lord, how they'll thunder!

The ancients, they say,

Had some speakers, but they

-Your Demosthenes, Ciceros, Chathams and Burkes-
Couldn't hold up a candle, sir,

To our boyst-who can handle, sir,

Not logic alone-but fists, pistols and dirks!

*Though the name is not given, we presume the reference is here to the "chiel " who sits on committees, as "the silent member,"

Few stenographers have attained an equal proficiency in reporting "word for word, letter for letter, comma for comma." These "notes" were current for some time in the community as genuine, like a great deal of other worthless trash that is kept freely in circulation among the Whigs by the unlimited "credit system" which they apply to every slander that is emitted from any source against the Administration. They were soon, however, exposed as false and counterfeit, in a very decisive manner, by "Messrs. C-mbr-l-ng & Co." At this gentle admonition the worthy Member from the "Mecca of Whiggism" is reported to have inclined his head in assent to a piece of advice so unquestionably sound and prudent; though he was heard to mutter, sotto voce, that "if ever he was caught at that game again with the firm alluded to, or any member of it, he'd be switched,"-fond memory doubtless recalling the tingling sensation of the last kind favors which he had received in succession from the hands of the different members of that firm, on the occasion here referred to.

+ Happy, happy, happy Whigs!-in the possession of all these "young prodigies" of thirty-"interesting youths" of thirty-five-and "youthful orators" of forty and upwards, with bald crowns, and possibly living grandchildren, for what we know! We were aware, from Lady Blessington, that it is not unusual in Ireland to witness" a broth of a boy" of sixty, and six foot six, but were not prepared to find the manufacture already so matured as to be classed for the future among other "Bosting notions." We must certainly yield our doubts, since it has proved successful with so unpromising a subject as Mr. Menefee. We hope, however, that

And here's to the deserters now first in our ranks, sir,

-As old lovers they say make the bitterest hatersWith their dear "credit system" and darling* "pet banks," sir, We must cherish the treason while scorning the traitors.

Whiggery is not playing off, with this interesting "prodigy," the ruse of Phil McCool, or-as MacPherson has more elegantly anglicised it-Fingal, the father of Ossian, and the great Irish giant of his time; who, as we find it recorded in the Fairy Legends, when his Scotch rival crossed the Channel, in three steps, to devour him, adroitly slipped into bed, and told his wife to inform the visiter that Phil was out hunting, and had left no one at home but his infant son, who was asleep in the cradle. The simple monster, thinking he could form a tolerable estimate of the proportions of the parent from the size of his boy, went to the cradle to examine the "youthful prodigy;" and, as the story goes, astonished at his dimensions, put his thumb into his mouth, to ascertain whether so large a child was really a sucking infant; and having got it bit instantly off, decamped with incredible expedition for his own land,—justly concluding, if a child could do such wonders, that a full grown man would be altogether unconquerable. All we can say in the matter is, that if old mother Whiggery is playing off a similar ruse on the awakened giant of Democracy, and has turned Faneuil Hall into a cradle for the purpose, there is little danger of our giant being frightened off by the proportions of the present infant, or his capacity to bite, whatever sweet tooth for blood he may possess.

These young small fry of Whiggery, who raise such a splutter in the water, and make no bones of swallowing our biggest Democratic fish, as easily (according to the Washington letter-writers) as the whale swallowed Jonah, whenever they chance to come in their way, must certainly become all "sea serpents," coiling their tails around the Pole, when they reach their full growth.

But, by the way, as for these same youthful prodigies, quære, are they ever destined to reach their 'years of discretion?' As Hamlet says, 'Aye, there's the rub!' *The faithful constancy of these "old lovers" to these their "darling pets," at the very time when they were universally abandoned by all the rest of this cold heartless world, as an "experiment" that had failed, is very beautiful and touching indeed-proving how true it is that “a friend in need (qu., of a discount or renewal?) is a friend indeed." Some of their speeches which are made up entirely of quotations of the former opinions entertained of them, by some of those who now feel unwilling again to lean on the broken staff which threw them down, remind us of the jockey who, in selling his foundered horse, expatiated eloquently on the testimonials he possessed of his qualities before he broke down. Such examples of fidelity in misfortune are indeed rare.

"Come rest in this bosom, mine own stricken deer,

Though the herd has fled from thee, thy home is still here;

Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast,

And the heart and the hand all thine own to the last!"

The following variation of a well-known song, from Moore's Melodies, was recently endorsed by one of these faithful swains on the back of a bank note. Being the only poetic effusion that is known to have ever overflowed from the fulness of his heart, it is entitled to perpetuation in the Democratic Review,-as is the poet to an undying garland of fame.

SONG-The Conservative to his Bank Note.

Air.-"Believe me if all these endearing young charms."

Believe me, if all those bright dollars of cash,
You so plausibly "promise to pay,"

Were to melt with to-morrow, or blow up in a "crash,"
Like the "dreadful explosion" of May,

Though we used to abuse them,

Yet as tools now we use them,

And to call them prime patterns of patriots pretend,

But as soon as they've done, boys,

All they can-every one, boys,

Sans cérémonie to old Nick we will send.*

And as for those ignorant dogs in the manger

Who won't let us pocket the funds of the nation,t
-As though money could e'er be exposed, sir, to danger
By being lent out upon land speculation!-
M-tty, K-nd-11 and P-lk,

B-nt-n, Wr―ght and such folk,

Thou'dst be good for my purpose as ever thou wert,
Let thy discount increase as it will,

And to prop the dear "system" each friend I'll desert
Who'll not make thee "receivable" still!

'Tis not while thy safe specie soundness is known,
And thy face unprofaned by protest,

That the beauty of "confidence" then can be shown,
Which at "fifty per cent." loves thee best.

For the true credit system" ne'er dreams of a doubt,
But still fondly continues to trust,

And the faith it puts in thee when first thou'rt put out,

It will never recall-till thou'rt burst!

* In vino veritas, is a good old adage that should be set up in letters of gold, at all these Whig carousals, as a caution against a too dangerous freedom of "the unruly member." This seems to have been rather an indiscreet slip of the tongue though neither the sincerity nor the poetic justice of the sentiment can be questioned. It does not very clearly appear whether the allusion here is to the "deserters" in question, who, when no longer needed, are to be consigned to the obscurity of the common contempt of all parties,-or to the "pet banks," which, after being used as a" half-way house,' are then to be handed over to the tender mercies of the "Old Nick" who once made the boast that he could break any of them that he pleased, with his "great regulator." Perhaps, by an ingenious double-entendre, a sly hit is intended at both, as it is well known that neither is at heart held in any very great affection by the Whigs.

This was of course the hidden meaning of Mr. Reed's strange-sounding toast, "The pockets of the People-the best Sub-Treasuries." It is well known that the Whig gentlemen, the merchants and speculators and brokers, (especially in Wall street) really consider themselves the whole "People." It is said that some of the company looked at first a little blank and aghast on the announcement of this toast, which seemed so "redolent" of Loco-focoism; but as soon as an inkling of its proper Whig meaning spread around, a delightful by-play of "nods and becks and wreathed smiles," beginning from the demigod himself, is said to have run beautifully twinkling round the tables.

There must indeed have been an universal expression of disgust throughout the company at this allusion to the ignorance and stupidity of the Loco-focos. When thus stripped of accessories, and brought down to a naked form, this happy illustra tion of the absurdity of that ridiculous "humbug," the Divorce of Bank and State, by the fable of the dog in the manger, ought to make them-as we confess it does us-heartily ashamed of it. What, neither touch the public money in any way

They may think themselves safe for some time yet to come,
But we'll soon make 'em go, sir,

Right about, and not slow, sir,

To the pious Whig tune, of "G— d— you, go home!"*

When we step in their shoes then-we 'll shew 'em our wishes
Were never like theirs, selfish, sordid, and sinister,
-But, as patriots, we can't let the loaves and the fishes
Go a-beggingt-so I'll go abroad as a minister!
I'll be off in a steamer, sir,

'Faith, she shall be a 'screamer,' sir,

And shall make the old ocean, sir, "boil like a pot!"‡
And for you, every one of you

Shall have something, and none of you
But shall get a snug place, discount, job, and what not!

And now, boys, 'tis time to have done with our racket,
We're all, as I take it, pretty "decently" merry ;

themselves (under pain of all sorts of penalties, bonds, imprisonment, and felonious ignominy,) nor allow others to use it for their commercial and speculating convenience! Ridiculous and disgusting! When shall these Goths, Vandals, and Huns, be driven from the Capitol!

*We were aware of the general Whig practice of catching up the sayings that drop from the lips of their "great men, to make them household words and party choruses; but we really did not know that this particular "elegant extract" from the public "prayers" of the leader and representative of the party of "all the religion, morality, decency, and wealth"-this eloquent impromptu effusion, so short and sweet, of the modern Chrysostome, the 'golden-mouthed' saint of the Whigs, from whose lips flow such rich golden streams of words divine,-had been so soon set to music! How fortunate it is that it has been thus timely embalmed for posterity-thus "wedded to immortal harmony!" How providential that its sweetness was not wasted on the desert air, but that

Echo caught softly the sound as it fell!"

+ Doubtless accompanied with a knowing wink to that beautiful pattern of consistency, Governor Ellsworth, who was present on the occasion; who had a short time before been most rhetorical and magniloquent in his Message to the Legislature of Connecticut, in denunciation of the practice of removal from office for opinion's sake; and who had already, during his short incumbency of office, made a clean job of some thousand or so removals of Democrats,-even earning Mr. Webster's reproach by running down to "low water" to change the "tide waiters." The representatives of Rhode Island and Maine, also, which had not been slow to follow in the footsteps of their illustrious predecessor, on the same track, no doubt chuckled mightily in their sleeves-as those also of New York, at the recollection of the watch men and lamplighters.

We here recognize another touch of the "prentice hand." None, surely, but Mr. Prentiss (Pindaric Mr. P., again!) could indeed be the original author, inventor and proprietor of this sublime idea-certainly a something new under the sun! The ocean being made to boil like a pot, by the steamboats "leviathan-like"! Ma conscience, as the worthy Bailie would have exclaimed, had he been present, what a pretty kettle of fish!

I've got two* Champagne bottles snug under my jacket-
-We'll say nothing about the Madeira and Sherry.f

So to make the world sensible

Of "the self-governing principle,

Let's go home, as "from church," boys, as straight as we can

well,

And wind up with a chorus

That shall tear the roof o'er us,ģ

Hallelujah to our great demigod Dan'el!

[With three times three, and a grand choral harmony "better to be imagined than described," during which the demigod himself is said to have exhibited unequivocal evidence of not having been insensible to the melting influences of the occasion, while a vast majority of the pious and patriotic pilgrims appeared really quite overcome by their emotions.]

Hallelujah to our great demigod Dan'el!

We can only say, that if the Poet Laureate here tells the truth, he ought to be ashamed of himself; for he must have been cheating some unfortunate neighbour out of half a bottle (perhaps it was only in the way of a "speculation")—for the exact allowance of each man was a little under a battle and a half of champagne, or three pints, and NO MORE.

This is a very sensible course, certainly, though it throws the curious inquirer disposed to statistical speculations, on the necessity of conjecturing the proportions of other wines that were made to bleed on this "great occasion." However, as we cannot deny the Whigs the credit of being very gentlemanly fellows over their cups, who know how to manage these matters in handsome and liberal style, it is not very difficult to estimate (ex pede Herculem) from the one fixed datum afforded by the champagne, viz, two thousand one hundred and sixty bottles, the due proportions of the madeira, sherry, port, hock, clarets, burgundies, and all the other indispensable et ceteras of such a pious and patriotic carousal.

We are assured by a Whig editor-and who would ever presume to question the veracity of a Whig editor ?-that the bearing and deportment of the Whig gentlemen on their return through the streets was for all the world as though they were going straight home from church; and the sight of so sublime an illustration of the "majesty of the laws" and "the self-governing principle" made his bosom swell with patriotic exultation and thanksgiving. The utterance of our Poet, by the way, would seem, from his redundant syllables, to have become a little thick and spluttering by this time. But as the ears of the company were probably, also, not quite so sensitive and fastidious at that hour as those of an Athenian audience, it was of no great consequence.

SA Whig report of the occasion says, that this effect was indeed very near being produced-whether by the escape of such a quantity of the fixed air from the champagne, or by the effervescence of Whig enthusiasm "cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd" within the walls of old Faneuil, is not particularly specified.

If there should seem any thing like profanity in this ecstatic glorification, it is not our fault. Allowances should be made for the" two bottles" and the et-ceteras; besides, the authority of the toast by a Whig clergyman who thanked God for the grace and honor he had conferred on the State of Massachusetts in bestowing on her such a son!-places it certainly "in the line of safe precedents."