Gazette Of The United States, & Philadelphia Daily Advertiser

From the Western Telegraph.

THE Scots Irishman has changed his
game--The abandoned Jacobins, who have
Shook hands with him, and said unto evil
be thou our god, he leaves to the vengeance
of their injured country.--He thinks
it in vain to probe a rotten limb, for which
the amputating knife is the only remedy.
That part of the community which he now
addresses, although it exhibits more floridity,
and appearance of health, yet it is far very
far, from being sound--Doubt, doubt, eternal
doubt, affects the nerves with a paralytic
numbness; and an unconquerable reluctance
to declare against dangerous principles corrupts the humors--Principles, on
which the bloody hand of experience has
wrote 'False,' in such large characters
as must strike the eye of the most heedless ob-
server--There indeed seems to be so great
a tendency to putrefaction, that he has little
hope of the application of his Scots pills being able to prevent it.
One service, however, the Scots Irishman
will render the Small Federalists: He will
rescue them from oblivion--The shades of
distinction between a Jacobin and a Small
Federalist are so fine, that a future Historian
would be very apt to class them together,
and describe them under, the general
name of Jacobins. But the poems of the
Scots Irishman will be an authentic record,
that such a distinct species existed. In the
latter end of the nineteenth century, the historian of the United States, recording the
transactions of the present time, after delineating the character of Jacobinism, and
mournfully dwelling on its destructive progress, may write thus:--'It seems a ramification of the same sect existed, at the same
time, in the United States, who pretended
to respect the government, and gave a faint
approbation to the measures which it had adopted to defend itself and the country from
the dreadful effects which we have described,
but who still approved and maintained the
principles from which these effects proceeded.
They were called in the cant of the times,
small Federalists. But as no mention is
made of them by any writer of these times,
that has come down to us, except by an obscure poet, who wrote in an old language
hardly now intelligible, it is probable they
degenerated into mere Jacobins, and were
lost in the original Genus.'
THE SCOTS-IRISHMAN
TO THE
SMALL FEDERALISTS.

'Neither sea
Nor good dry land.'
MILTON

Aff ye, ye wav'ring tribe!
Your hums, an' haws I canna bide—
Ye juft e'en scud 'lang wi' the tide,
Wi' wind in tail:
But ye're na fit the ship to guide
In adverse gale.
Altho' ye ken fu' well the port,
Lithe o' secure straight-gate for'
O' ilka pop'lar breeze the sport,
Ye'd hin, an' swither;
Till, in destruction's gulph absorpt.
Ye'd sink forever.
Or failing, on a dang'rous coast,
'Mang rocks, an' shoals, an' shipwrecks tost.
Whare ilka frightfu' spirit an' gheist
Shricks frae the shore.
Ye'd still doubt on, till ye'd be lost-
For evermore.
Still unconfirm'd by proof or fact,
Ye'd defying lie in danger's lap,
Unheeding compass, chart or map.
Or dreaming stan'
Ay hoping to find out the track
To Fairy-lan'.
For should misfortune come pell-mell
An' wild confusion us o'erwhelm-
Poor feckless crew!
Tho' ane maun strive to save himsel, then-
Not look to you.
Inste'd o' scouring up your swords.
Ye listen to deceitfu' words,
The dolkfu' screams o' rav'nous birds,
Wha hope ae day,
That we an' a' the land affords
Will be their prey.
Ye hear what baith sides hae to say-
Like ass between twa wisps o' hay
Your mind's a road,
On which opinions pass an' stray,
But find na' abode.
'Whan Harper pours his manly sense
In a strong tide of eloquence,
Ye think, round property, a fence
'Twere best to draw,
Gainst those wha pay nae reverence
To right nor law.
But, whan sly Gallatin does growl
About th' expence, wi' ruefu' cowl,
I'll lay it charms ye to the soul -
To bear him squall,
Like that ill-boding bird, the Owl.
On ruin'd wall.
'Peace, peace,' ye cry, ' an' moderation
Will be maist useful to the nation,
Br'hawlin in a voidie station,
Between the parties.'
Which way your heart is
If ever things come to a push,
We'll say'd I tell (but I will hush)
Which side uppermost would win
Sure ye'll declare
For philanthropic bug-an' buss.
I'll say nae mair.
Syne, mack! to fa' wi' a' your might
On them wha fail.
Mayhaps I'm wrang--I dinna ken
Some o' ye may be honest men,
On wham the people do depend--
Gif I'd na trust ould Nicky-bent
But, Shame fa' me!
As soon as ye.
I am a plain, rough, kind o' chiel,
Wha canna craftily conceal
What in my mind I strongly feel-
Gif I abuse ye,
Ye are ae Meek, I ken fu' well
That ye'll excuse me.
NOTES.
* Their attachment to Jacobin principles.
by which are meant the doctrines of equality,
sovereignty of the people, and right of
resistance, which, unless exploded from all
free, and legitimate governments, no regular
system of civil liberty can have long duration.--Order and the absolute reign of the
laws, which are the very soul of Republics,
can never be established. Chaos must forever overspread the political world, and mankind will finally revert to that state of savage independence, and self-government,
which we see our Indian neighbours so happily enjoy, and which some humane modern
philosophers have preferred to the blessings
of civilized society.
† An old name for Satan--This gentleman's character is, at least, a decided one.