The Gazette

From the Farmer's Museum.

MR. JEFFERSON.

After an experiment of some years, and after witnessing acts, which, in any other government, even that of the Barbary states, would not be followed with any thing like impunity, the mass of American citizens will refuse to re-elect to the second office in this country, a man, whose attachments, objects, religion, philosophy and morals, are wholly French. Mr. Jefferson, and his dark compeers, must work hard, for the time approaches, when neither he, nor they, shall work. This vain author, false prophet, & thorough bred Frenchman, at the next election, WILL BE REFUSED BY HIS COUNTRY. When his name is mentioned, or his pretensions canvassed, before the Federal American, he will exclaim,

"Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy rule,
Thy arts have made thee a most ugly man"

Even the book of the Philosopher will pass
"In vacuum, vend entem thus et odores
Et piper, et quicquid chartis amicitur ineptis,"

and the man will be remembered by those only, who advert to his impracticable, speculative, wicked politics; his intimacy with Benjamin Banneker, the black; his skill in anatomizing spiders; and his learned accuracy in selecting muddy water, as a scientific standard of weight.

Indeed, the vanity, or the ignorance, of Americans has given to this man a degree of scholarship, which his French-like, superficial acquirements by no means deserve. In Europe, his philosophy would be derided, and his learning surpassed, even by a very young boy, the offspring of a Gilbert Wakefield. Those, who recollect this antimathematical report on weights and measures, his choice of rain water for a standard, and his childish and toy-like invention of an Epicurean chair as he called it, will acknowledge the sarcasm and beauty of the following lines:

"In latitude just forty five,
Drawn a dark cellar did I creep;
And with my onion rope could strive
To measure pecks and bushels neat.
Of kennel water I did weigh
A pound—and thus a standard found
For, spite of dirt, dead cats, or hay,
This pound will always weigh a pound.
I've made a noble, wriggling chair,
In which my science I retail,
And sit, LIKE POLITICIAN RARE,
And move my snout, without my tail."