The Daily Cincinnati Republican, And Commercial Register

The Gazette of yesterday contains a whole column of the most miserable, silly, nauseating doggerel poetry that ever shamed a newspaper. We have been told that the editor is the author; but we cannot believe it. The truth is—Mr. Hammond is a man of some sense, and, though he sometimes amuses himself in scandalizing his neighbors, he is not such a dunce as the author of the poetry would seem. Doggerels and personal scandal being the order of the day with the Whig newspapers of this city, we shall be compelled, however reluctantly, to fight them with their own weapons. If the Whigs undertake to hang up the members of our party, we shall try to roast them. If they will dragoon us into a war of foul-mouthed crimination, why, here's at them. It is a trade two can work at. Notice is, therefore, hereby given, that if any more personal attacks shall be made upon private citizens belonging to the Jackson party in Hamilton county, we shall "carry the war into Africa." The Whigs, young and old, will get just as good as they send; and we shall stand prepared to account for our share of the sport in any way they may please to demand it.

Our Kentucky poet, whom we employed, some time ago, to reply to the Gazette poetry, has been absent some weeks endeavoring to pick up some ideas among the Blue Licks. He will show himself soon.

Our Kentucky poet is in town. We are pretty sure we racked him into a groggery yesterday. The world may soon expect to be edified.