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LIDKAKT
UNUVERSiTY OP CALtfORNIA SAN DIE©0
/et^
THE
POETICAL WORKS
OP
THOMAS M O O E E,
COLLECTED BY HIMSELF.
IN SIX VOLUMES.
■WITH A MEMOIR.
VOL. II.
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND C 0 51 P A N Y .
SHEPARD, CLARK AND CO.
CLNCINKATI: JIOOKE, WILSTACH, KEYS A>TJ CO.
M.DCCC.LVI.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1856, by
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Maspachusetts
C A M li U I I) G K :
PRINTED BY ALLEN AND F A R N U A >t
CONTENTS
OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
Page Preface to the Second Volume . . 1
Poems Kelating to America ... 17
Preface to Satirical Pieces, etc. . . H'
Corruption, and Intolerance . . . 127
The Sceptic, a Philosophical Satire . • 151
Twopenny Post-Bag ..... 165
Satirical and Humorous Poems . . . 217
Political and Satirical Poems . . • 261
The Fudge Family in Paris .... 273
Fables for the Holy Alliance . . . 373
[A more particular Index will be found at the end of the
Fifth Volume.]
(iii)
PREFACE
TO THE SECOXD VOLUME.
The Poems suggested to me by ray visit to Ber- muda, in the year 1803, as well as by the tour whicli I made subsequently, tlu'ough some parts of North America, have been hitherto very injudiciously ar- ranged ; — any distinctive character they may pos- sess having been disturbed and confused by their being mixed up not only with trifles of a much ear- lier date, but also with some portions of a classical story, in the form of Letters, which I had made some progress in before my departure from England. In the present edition, this awkward jumble has been remedied ; and all the Poems relating to my trans- atlantic voyage will be found classed by themselves. As, in like manner, the line of route by which I pro- ceeded through some parts of the States and the Canadas, has been left hitherto to be traced con- fusedly through a few detached notes, I have thought that, to future readers of these poems, some clearer account of the course of that journey might not be
VOL. II. 1
2 PREFACE TO
unacceptable, — together with such vestiges as may still linger in my memory of events now fust fading into the background of time.
For the precise date of my dejiarture from Eng- land, in the Plueton frigate, I am indebted to the Naval Recollections of Captain Scott, then a mid- shipman of that ship. " We were soon ready," says this gentleman, " for sea, and a few days saw Mr. Merry and suite embarked on board. Mr. Moore likewise took his jiassage with us on his way to Bermuda. AVe (piitted Spithead on the 25th of Sep- tember (1803), and in a short week lay becalmed under the lofty peak of Pico. In this situation, the Phaeton is depicted in the frontispiece of Moore's Poems."
During the voyage, I dined very frequently with the ollicers of the gun-room ; and it was not a little gratifying to me to learn, from this gentleman's vol- ume, that the cordial regard these social and open- hearted men inspired in me was not wholly unre- turned, on their part. After mentioning our arri- val at Norfolk, in Virginia, Captain Scott says, " Mr. and Mrs. Merry left the Phaeton, under the usual salute, accompanied by Mr. Moore;" — then, adding some kind compliments on the score of talents, etc., he concludes with a sentence which it gave me ten- fold more pleasure to I'ead, — " The gun-room mess witnessed the day of his departure with genuine sorrow." From Norfolk, after a stay of about ten days, under the lios])itable roof of the liritish Consul,
THE SECOND VOLUME. 3
Colonel Hamilton, I jiroceeded, iu tlie Driver sloop of war, to Bermuda.
There was then on that station another youthful sailor, who has since earned for himself a distin- guished name among English writers of travels, Captain Basil Plall, — then a midshipman on board the Leander. In his Fragments of Voyages and Travels, this writer has called up some agreeable reminiscences of that period ; in perusing which, — so full of life and reality are his sketches, — I found all my own naval recollections brought freshly to my mind. The very names of the different ships, then so familiar to my ears, — the Leander, the Boston, the Cambrian, — transported^me back to the season of youth and those Summer Isles once more.
The testimony borne by so competent a witness as Captain Hall to the truth of my sketches of the beautiful scenery of Bermuda is of far too much value to me, in my capacity of traveller, to be here omitted by me, however conscious I must feel of but ill de- sei'ving the praise he lavishes on me, as a poet. Xot that I pretend to be at all indifferent to such kind tributes ; — on the contrary, those are always the most alive to praise, who feel inwardly least confi- dence in the soundness of their own title to it. In the present instance, however, my vanity (for so this uneasy feeling is always called) seeks its food in a different direction. It is not as a poet I invoke the aid of Captain Hall's opinion, but as a traveller
4 PREFACE TO
and observer ; it is not to my invention I ask him to bear testimony, but to my matter-of-fact.
" The most pleasing and most exact description which I know of Px'i-niudn," says this gentk'man, "is to be fonnd in Moore's Odes and Epistles, a work published many years ago. The reason why his account excels in beauty as well as in precision that of other men probably is, that the scenes described lie so much beyond the scope of ordhiary observation in colder climates, and the feelings which they excite in the beholder are so nuich higher than those produced by the scenery Ave have been accustomed to look at, that, unless the imagina- tion be deeply drawn upon, and the diction sus- tained at a correspondent pitch, the words alone strike the ear, while the listener's fancy remains where it was. In Moore's account there is not only no exaggeration, but, on the contrary, a won- derful degree of temperance in the midst of a feast which, to his rich fancy, must have been peculiarly tempting. He has contrived, by a magic peculiarly his own, yet without departing from the truth, to sketch what was before him with a fervour which those who have never been on the spot might well be excused for setting down as the sport of the poet's invention." *
How truly politic it is in a poet to connect his
• Fragments of Voyages and Travels, vol. ii. chaj). vi.
THE SECOND VOLUME. O
verse with well known and interesting localities, — to wed his song to scenes already invested with fame, and thus lend it a chance of sharing the charm which encircles them, — I have myself, in more than one instance, very agreeably experienced. Among the memorials of this description, which, as I learn with pleasure and pride, still keep me remembered in some of those beautiful regions of the West which I visited, I shall mention but one slight instance, as showing how potently the Genius of the Place may lend to song a life and imperishableness to which, in itself, it boasts no claim or pretension. The fol- lowing lines, in one of my Bermudian Poems,
'Twas there, in the shade of the Calabash Tree, With a few who could feel and remember like me,
still live in memory, I am told, on those fairy shores, connecting my name with the picturesque spot they describe, and the noble old tree which I believe still adorns it.* One of the few treasures (of any kind) I possess, is a goblet formed of one of the fruit-shells of this remarkable tree, which was brought from Bermuda, a few years since, by Mr. Dudley Costello, and which that gentleman, having had it tastefully mounted as a goblet, very kindly presented to me ; the following words being part of the inscription which it bears : — " To
* A representation of this calabash, taken from a drawing of it made, on the sjiot, by Dr. Savage of the Royal Artillery, has been introduced in the vignette prefixed to this volume.
6 PREFACE TO
Thomas Moore, Esq., this cup, formed of a cala- bash which grew on the tree that bears his name, near Walsingham, Bermuda, is inscribed by one who," etc. etc.
From Bermuda I proceeded in the Boston, with my friend Captain (now Admiral) J. E. Doughis, to New York, from whence, after a short stay, we sailed for Norfolk, in Virginia; and about the be- ginning of June, 1804, I set out from that city on a tour through part of the States. At Washington, I passed some days with the English minister, Mr. Merry ; and was, by him, presented at tlie levee of the President, Jefferson, whom I found sitting with General Dearborn and one or two other oincers, and in the same homely costume, comprising slip- pers and Connemara stockings, in which Mr. Merry had been received by him — much to that formal minister's horror — when waiting npon him, in full dress, to deliver his credentials. My single interview with this remarkable person was of very short dura- tion ; but to have seen and*spoken Avith the man who drew up the Declaration of American Independence was an event not to be forgotten.
At Philadelphia, the society I was chiefly made acquainted with, and to which (as the verses ad- dressed to "Delaware's green banks"* sulficiently testify) I was indebted for some of my most agree- able recollections of the United States, consisted entirely of persons of the Federalist or Anti-Demo-
• See Epistle to Mr. W. R. Spencer, p. 94. of this volume.
THE SECOND VOLUME. 7
cratic party. Few and transient, too, as had been my opportunities, of judging for myself of the pohti- cal or social state of the country, my mind was left open too much to the influence of the feelings and prejudices of those I chiefly consorted with ; and, certainly, in no quarter Avas I so sure to find de- cided hostility, both to the men and the principles then dominant throughout the Union, as among officers of the British navy, and in the ranks of an angry Federalist opposition. For any bias, tliere- fore, that, under such circumstances, my opinions and feelings may be thought to have received, full allowance, of course, is to be made in appraising the weight due to my authority on the subject. All I can answer for, is the perfect sincerity and ear- nestness of the actual impressions, whether true or erroneous, under which my Epistles from the United States were written.; and so sti-ong, at the time, I confess, were those impressions, that it was the only period of my past life during which I have found myself at all sceptical as to the soundness of that Liberal creed of politics, in the profession and ad- vocacy of which I may be almost literally said to have begun life, and shall most probably end it.
Reaching, for the second time, New York, I set out from thence on the now fomiliar and easy enter- prise of visiting the Falls of Niagara. It is but too true, of all grand objects, whether in nature or art, that facility of access to them much diminishes the feeling of reverence thev oui;:;ht to inspire. Of this
8 PREFACE TO
fault, however, the route to Niagara, at that period — at least the portion of it which led through the Genesee country — could not justly be accused. The latter part of the journey, which lay cliietiy through yet but half-cleared wood, we were obliged to perform on foot ; and a slight accident I met with, in the course of our rugged walk, laid me up for some days at Buffalo. To the rapid gi-owth, in that Avonderful region, of, at least, the materials of civili- zation,— however ultimately they may be turned to account, — this flourishing town, which stands on Lake Erie, bears most ample testimony. Though little better, at the time when I visited it, tlian a mere village, consisting chiefly of huts and wigwams, it is now, by all accounts, a populous and splendid city, with five or six churches, town-hall, theatre, and other such a^ipurtenances of a ca{)ital.
In adverting to the comparatively rude state of Buffalo at that period, I should be ungrateful were I to omit mentioning, that, even then, on the shores of those far lakes, the title of "Poet," — however unworthily in that instance bestowed, — bespoke a kind and distinguishing welcome for its wearer; and that the Captain who commanded the packet in whicli I crossed Lake Ontario,* in addition to other marks of courtesy, begged, on ]>arting with me, to be allowed to decline payment for my pas-
sage.
* The Commodore of the Lakes, as he is styled.
THE SECOND VOLUilE. iJ
"When we arrived, at length, at the inn, in the neighbourhood of the Falls, it was too late to think of visiting them that evening ; and I lay awake almost the whole night with the sound of the cataract in my ears. The day following I consider as a sort of era in my life ; and the first glimpse I caught of that wonderful cataract gave me a feeling which nothing in this world can ever awaken again.* It was through an oj^ening among the trees, as we ap- proached the spot where the full view of the Falls was to burst upon us, that I caught this glimpse of the mighty mass of waters folding smoothly over the edge of the precipice ; and so overwhelming was the notion it gave me of the awful spectacle I was approaching, that, during the short interval that followed, imagination had far outrun the reality ; and, vast and wonderful as was the scene that then opened upon me, my first feeling was that of disap- pointment. It would have been impossible, indeed, for any thing real to come up to the vision I had, in these few seconds, formed of it ; and those awful scriptural words^ " The fountains of the great deep were broken up," can alone give any notion of the vague wonders for which I was prepared.
But in spite of the start thus got by imagination, the triumph of reality Avas, in the end, but the gi'eater ; for the gradual glory of the scene that
* The fir?t two sentences of the above p'.iragi-aph, as well as a passage that occurs on the following page, stood originally as part of the Notes on one of the American Poems.
10 PREFACE TO
opened upon me soon took possession of my whole miiul ; presentinj;, from day to day, some new beauty or wonder, and, like all that is most sublime in nature or art, awakenintr sad as well as elevatinjic tliou";lits. I retain in my memory but one other dream — for such do events so long past appear — which can in any respect be associated with the grand vision I have just been describing ; and, however different the nature of their appeals to the imagination, I should lind it dilhcult to say on which occasion I felt most deeply affected, when looking on the Falls of Niagara, or when standing by moonlight among the ruins of the Coliseum.
Some changes, I understand, injurious to the beauty of the scene, have taken place in the shape of the Falls since the time of my visit to them; and among these is the total disappearance, by the gradual cruml)ling away of the rock, of the small leafy island which then stood near the edge of the Great Fall, and whose tranquillity and unapproachableness, in the midst of so much turmoil, lent it an interest which I thus tried to avail myself of, in a Song of the Spirit of that region : — *
There, amid the island-sedge, Just above the cutaruct's edge, Where the foot of living man Never trod since time began, Lone I sit at close of day, etc. etc.
* Introduced in the Epistle to Lady Charlotte Rawdon, p. 101. of this volume.
THE SECOND VOLUME. 11
Another characteristic feature of the vicinity of the Falls, -which, I understand, no longer exists, was the intcrestinjr settlement of the Tuscarora Indians. With the gallant Brock,* who then commanded at Fort George, I passed the greater pai't of my time during the few weeks I remained at Niagara ; and a visit I paid to these Indians, in company with him and his brother officers, on his going to distribute among them the customary presents and prizes, was not the least curious of the many new scenes I wit- nessed. These people received us in all their an- cient costume. The young men exhibited for our amusement in the race, the bat-game, and other sports, while the old and the women sat in groups under the surrounding trees ; and the whole scene was as picturesque and beautiful as it was ncAv to me. It is said that West, the American painter, when he first saw the Apollo, at Eome, exclaimed instantly, " A young Indian warrior ! " — and, how- ever startling the association may appear, some of the graceful and agile forms which I saw that day among the Tuscaroras were such as would account for its arising in the young painter's mind.
After crossing "the fresh-water ocean" of Ontario,
* This brave and amiable officer was killed at Queenston, in Upper Canada, soon after the commencement of the war with America', in the year 1812. He was in the act of cheering on his men when he fell. The inscription on the monnment raised to his memory, on Queenston Heights, does but due hon- our to his manly character.
12 PREFACE TO
I passed down the St. Lawrence to Montreal and Quebec, staying for a short tune at each of these places ; and this jiurt of my journey, as well as my voyage on from Quebec to Halifax, is suilieiently traceable through the few pieces of poetry that were suggested to me by scenes and events on the way. And here I must again venture to avail myself of the valuable testimony of Captain Hall to tlie truth of my descriptions of some of those scenes through Avliich his more practised eye followed me; — taking the liberty to omit in my extracts, as far as may be done without injury to the style or context, some of that generous surplusage of praise in which friendly criticism delights to indulge.
In speaking of an excursion he had made up the river Ottawa, — " a stream," he adds, " which has a classical ])lace in every one's imagiuation from Moore's Canadian Boat Song," Ca})tain Hall pro- ceeds as follows : " "While the poet above alluded to has retained all that is essentially characteristic and pleasing in these boat songs, and rejected all that is not so, he has contrived to borrow his inspiration from numei'ons snrronnding circumstances, present- ing nothing remarkable to the dull senses of ordinary travellers. Yet these highly poetical images, drawn in this way, as it were carelessly and from every hand, he has combined with such graphic — I had almost said geogra])hical — truth, that the effect is great even upon those who have never, with their own eyes, seen the ' Utawa's tide,' nor ' flown down
THE SECOND VOLUME. 13
the Eapids,' nor heard the ' bell of St. Anne's toll its evening chime ; ' while the same lines give to dis- tant regions, previously consecrated in our imagina- tion, a vividness of interest, when viewed on the spot, of which it is difficult to say how much is due to the magic of the poetry, and how much to the beauty of the real scene." *
While on the subject of the Canadian Boat Song, an anecdote connected with that once popular ballad may, for my musical readers at least, possess some interest. A few years since, while staying in Dublin, I was presented, at his own request, to a gentleman who told me that his family had in their possession a curious relic of my youthful days, — being the first notation I had made, in pencilHng, of the air and words of the Canadian Boat Song, while on my way down the St. Lawrence, — and that it was their wish I should add my signature to attest the authenticity of the autograph. I assured him with truth that I had wholly forgotten even the existence of such a memorandum ; that it would be as much a curiosity to myself as it could be to any one else, and that I should feel thankful to be allowed to see it. In a
» " It is singularly gratifying," the author adds, " to discover that, to this hour, the Canadian voyageurs never omit their otl'er- ings to the shrine of St. Anne, before engaging in any enterprise; and that, during its perfoi-niance, they omit no opportunity of keeping up so propitious an intercourse. The flourishing village ■which surrounds the church on the ' Green Isle ' in question, owes its existence and support entirely to these pious contributions."
14
PREFACE TO
day or two after, my request was complied witli, and the following is the history of this musical " relic."
In my passage down the St. Lawrence, I had with me two travelling conipaniuns, one of whom, named Harkness, the son of a wealthy Dublin merchant, has been some years dead. To this young friend, on parting with him, at Quebec, I gave, as a keepsake, a volume I had been reading on the way, — Priest- ley's Lectures on History ; and it was upon a fly- leaf of this volume I found I had taken down, in pencilling, both the notes and a few of the words of the original song by which my own boat-glee had been suggested. The following is the form of my memorandum of the original air : —
.P^
tij+iV:
ESiE:
^0-^-0-0-
£?3
Then follows, as pencilled down at the same mo- ment, the first verse of my Canadian ]5oat Song, with air and words as they are at present. From all this it will be perceived, that, in my own setting of the air, I de[)arted in almost every respect but the time from the strain our voyageurs had sung to us, leaving the music of the glee nearly as much my own as the words. Yet, how strongly impressed I had become with the notion that this Avas the iden-
THE SECOND VOLUME. 15
tical air sung by the boatmen, — how closely it linked itself in my imagination with the scenes and sounds amidst which it had occurred to me, — may be seen by reference to a note appended to the glee as first publislied, which will be found in the following pages.*
To the few desultory and, perhaps, valueless rec- ollections I have thus called up, respecting the con- tents of our second volume, I have only to add, that the heavy storm of censure and criticism, — some of it, I fear, but too well deserved, — which, both in America and in England, the publication of my " Odes and Epistles " drew down upon me, was fol- lowed by results which have far more than compen- sated for any pain such attacks at the time may have inflicted. In the most formidable of all my censors, at that period, — the great master of the art of criticism, in our day, — I have found ever since one of the most cordial and highly valued of all my friends ; while the good-will I have expe- rienced from more than one distinguished Amer- ican sufficiently assures me that any injustice I may have done to that land of freemen, if not long since wholly forgotten, is now remembered only to be forgiven.
As some consolation to me for the onsets of crit- icism, I received, shortly after the appearance of my volume, a letter from Stockholm, addressed to " the
* Page 100. of this volume.
16 PREFACE TO THE SECOND VOLUME.
author of Epistles, Odes, and other Poems," and informing me that " the Princes, Nobles, and Gentle- men, who composed the General Chapter of the most Illustrious, Equestrian, Secular, and Chapteral Order of St. Joachim," had elected me as a Knitrht of this Order. Notwithstanding the grave and olli- cial style of the letter, I regarded it, I own, at first, as a mere ponderous j^iece of pleasantry ; and even suspected that in tiie name of St. " Joachim " I could detect the low and irreverent pun of St. Jokehim.
On a little inquiry, however, I learned that there actually existed such an order of knighthood ; that the title, insignia, etc. conferred by it had, in the instances of Lord Nelson, the Duke of Bouillon, and Colonel Imhoff, who were all Knights of St. Joachim, been authorized by the British court ; but that since then, this sanction of the order had been -withdi'awn. Of course, to the reduction thus caused in the value of the honour was owing its descent in the scale of distinction to " such small deer" of Parnassus as my- self. I wrote a letter, however, full of grateful ac- knowledgment, to Monsieur ITansson, the Yice- Chancellor of the Order, saying that I was uncon- scious of having entitled myself, by any public ser- vice, to a reward due only to the benefactors of man- kind ; and therefore begged leave most respectfully to decline it.
POEMS
RELATING TO AMERICA.
VOL. ir.
TO
FRANCIS, EARL OF MOIRA,
GEXERAL IN HIS MAJESTT's FORCES, MASTER-GEXERAL OF THE ORDNANCE, CONSTABLE OF THE TOWER, ETC.
My Lord,
It is impossible to think of addressing a Dedica- tion to your Lordship without calHng to mind the ■\vell-known reply of the Spartan to a rhetorician, who proposed to pronounce an eulogium on Hercules. " On Hercules ! " said the honest Spartan, " who ever thought of blaming Hercules ? " In a similar manner the concurrence of public opinion has left to the panegyrist of your Lordship a very superfluous task. I shall, therefore, be silent on the subject, and merely entreat your indulgence to the very humble tribute of gratitude which I have here the honour to present. I am, my Lord,
With every feeling of attachment and respect, Your Lordship's very devoted Servant,
THOMAS MOOEE.
27 Bury Street, St. James's, April 10, 1806.
PREFACE.*
The principal poems in the following collection were written during an absence of fourteen months from Eui'ope. Though curiosity was certainly not the motive of my voyage to America, yet it hap- pened that the gratification of curiosity was the only advantage which I dei'ived from it. Finding myself in the country of a new people, whose in- fancy had pi'omised so much, and whose progress to maturity has been an object of such interesting speculation, I determined to employ the short period of time, which my plan of return to Europe af- forded me, in travelling through a few of the States, and acquiring some knowledge of the inhabitants.
The impression which my mind received from the character and manners of these republicans, suggested the Epistles which are written from the city of Washington and Lake Erie.f How far I
* This Preface, as well as the Dedication which precedes it, were prefixed originally to the miscellaneous volume entitled " Odes and Epistles," of which, hitherto, the poems relating to my American tour have formed a part.
t Epistles VI. Vn. and VUI.
22 rOEMS RELATING TO A^IERICA.
was right, in thus assuming the tone of a satirist against a people whom I viewed but as a stranger and a visitor, is a dou1)t which my feelings did not allow me time to investigate. All I presume to answer for is the fidelity of the picture which I have given ; and though prudence might have dic- tated gentler language, truth, I think, would have justified severer.
I weijt to America with prepossessions by no means unfavourable, and indeed rather indulo'ed in many of those illusive ideas, with respect to the purity of the government and the primitive happiness of the people, which I had early imbibed in my native country, where, unfortunately, discontent at home enhances every distant temptation, and tlie western world has long been looked to as a retreat from real or imaginary oppression ; as, in short, the elysian Atlantis, where persecuted patriots might find their visions realized, and be welcomed by kindred spirits to liberty and repose. In all these flattering expectations I found myself completely disappointed, and felt inclined to say to America, as Horace says to his mistress, " intentata nites." Brissot, in the preface to his travels, observes, that "freedom in that country is carried to so high a degree as to border upon a state of nature ; " and there certainly is a close approximation to savage life, not only in the liberty which they enjoy, but in the violence of party spirit and of private ani- mosity which results from it. This iUiberal zeal
PREFACE. 23
imbittei's all social intercourse ; and, though I scarcely could hesitate in selecting the party, whose views appeared to me the more pure and rational, yet I was sorry to observe that, in asserting their opinions, they both assume an equal share of intol- erance ; the Democrats, consistently with their jjrin- ciples, exhibiting a vulgarity of rancour, wliich the Federalists too often ai-e so forgetful of their cause as to imitate.
The rude familiarity of the lower orders, and in- deed the unpolished state of society in general, would neither surprise nor disgust if they seemed to i\ow from that simplicity of character, that honest igno- rance of the gloss of refinement which may be looked for in a new and inexperienced people. But, when we find them arrived at maturity in most of the vices, and all the pride of civilization, while they are still so far removed from its higher and better char- acteristics, it is impossible not to feel that this youth- ful decay, this crude anticipation of the natural pe- riod of corruption, must repress every sanguine hope of the future energy and greatness of America.
I am conscious that, in venturing these few re- marks, I have said just enough to offend, and by no means sufficient to convince ; for the limits of a pre- face prevent me from entering into a justification of my opinions, and I am committed on the subject as effectually as if I had written volumes in their de- fence. My reader, however, is apprised of the very cursory observation upon which these opinions are
24 POEMS KELATING TO AMERICA.
founded, and can easily decide for himself upon the degree of attention or confidence which they merit.
With respect to tlie poems in general, which oc- cupy the following pages, I know not in what man- ner to apologize to the public for intruding upon their notice such a mass of unconnected trifles, such a world of epicurean atoms as I have here brought in conflict together.* To say that I have been tempted by the liberal offers of my bookseller, is an excuse which can hope for but little indulgence from the critic ; yet I own that, without this seasonable in- ducement, these poems very possibly would never have been submitted to the world. The glare of publication is too strong for such imperfect produc- tions : they should be shown but to the (!ye of friend- ship, in that dim light of privacy which is as favour- able to poetical as to female beauty, and serves as a veil for faults, while it enhances every charm which it displays. Besides, this is not a period for the idle occupations of poetry, and times like the present require talents more active and more useful. Few have now the leisure to read such trifles, and I most sincerely regret that I have had the leisure to write them.
* See the foregoing Note, p. 2J.
POEMS.
TO LORD VISCOUNT STRANGFORD.
ABOAKD THE PHAETON FKIGATE, OFF THE AZORES, BY MOONLIGHT.
Saveet Moon ! if, like Crotona's sage,* By any spell my hand could dare
To make thy disk its ample page,
And write my thoughts, my wishes there ;
How many a friend, whose careless eye
Now wanders o'er that starry sky,
Should smile, upon thy orb to meet
The recollection, kind and sweet,
The reveries of fond regret.
The promise, never to forget,
And all my heart and soul would send
To many a dear-lov'd, distant friend.
How little, when we parted last, I thought those pleasant times were past, For ever past, when brilliant joy "Was all my vacant heart's employ :
* Pythagoras ; who was supposed to hare a power of writing upon the Moon by the means of a magic mirror. — See Bayle, art. Pythag.
26 rOICMS RELATIXG TO AMERICA.
Wlicn, fresh from mirth to mirth awain,
We thought the mpul hours too few ; Our only use for knowledge then
To gather bliss from all we knew. Delicious days of whim and soul !
When, mingling lore and laugh together, We lean'd the book on Pleasure's bowl,
And turn'd the leaf with Folly's feather. Little I thought that all were fled, That, ere that summer's bloom was shed. My eye should sec the sail unfui-l'd That wafts me to the "western Avorld.
And yet, 'twas time ; — in youth's sweet days, To cool that season's glowing rays, The heart awhile, with wanton wing, May dip and dive in Pleasure's spring ; But, if it wait for winter's breeze. The spring will chill, the heart -will freeze. And then, that Hope, that fairy Hope, —
Oh ! she awak'd such happy dreams, And gave my soul such tempting scope
For all its dearest, fondest schemes. That not Verona's child of song.
When flying from the Phrygian shore, With lighter heart could bound along,
Or pant to be a wanderer more ! *
* Allucling to these atiiinatcd lines iu the 44th Carmen of Catullus : —
Jam mens prretrepidans avet vagari, Jam Ix'ti studio pedes vigcscunt !
POEMS RELATIXG TO AMERICA. 27
Even now delusive hope will steal Amid the dark regrets I feel, Soothing, as yonder placid beam
Pursues the murmurers of the deep, And lights them with consoling gleam,
And smiles them into tranquil sleep. Oh ! such a blessed night as this,
I often think, if friends were near, How we sliould feel, and gaze with bliss
Upon the moon-bright scenery here !
The sea is like a silvery lake.
And, o'er its calm the vessel glides Gently, as if it fear'd to wake
The slumber of the silent tides. The only envious cloud that lowers
Hath hung its shade on Pico's height,* Where dimly, mid the dusk, he towers.
And scowling at this heav'n of light. Exults to see the infant storm Cling darkly round his giant form !
Now, could I range those verdant isles.
Invisible, at this soft hour, And see the looks, the beaming smiles,
That brighten many an orange bower ;
* A very high mountain on one of the Azores, from -SN-hich the island derives its name. It is said by some to be as high as the Peak of Teneriffe.
28 POEMS KELATING TO AMERICA.
And could I lift each pious veil,
And 8ce the bhisliing cheek it sliades, —
Oh ! I should have full many a tale, To tell of young Azorian maids.
Yes, Strangford, at this hour, perhaps.
Some lover (not too idly blest. Like those, who in their ladies' laps
May cradle eveiy Avish to rest,) Warbles, to touch his dear one's soul.
Those madrigals, of breath divine, Which Camoens' harp from Rapture stole
And gave, all glowing warm, to thine.* Oh ? could the lover learn from thee.
And breathe them with thy graceful tone Such sweet, beguiling minstrelsy
Would make the coldest nymj)h his own.
But, hark ! — the boatswain's pipings tell 'T is time to bid my dream farewell : Eight bells : — the middle watch is set ; Good night, my Strangford ! — ne'er forget That, far beyond the western sea Is one, whose heart remembers thee.
* These islands belong to the Portuguese.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 29
STANZAS.
Qvfiog de ttot' e/ioc -
•fte npoacpuvEi rade'
TivuxjKe TavdpuTTEta fir) aejSeiv ayav.
JEscHTL. Fragintnt.
A BEAM of tranquillity smil'd in the west,
The storms of the morning pursued us no more ;
And the wave, while it welcom'd the moment of rest, Still heav'd, as remembering ills that were o'er.
Serenely my heart took the hue of the hour,
Its passions were sleeping, were mute as the dead ;
And the spirit becalm'd but remember'd their power, As the billow the force of the gale that was fled.
I thought of those days, Avhen to pleasure alone My heart ever granted a wish or a sigh ;
When the saddest emotion my bosom had known, Was pity for those who were wiser than I.
I reflected, how soon in the cup of Desire The pearl of the soul may be melted away ;
How quickly, alas, the pure sparkle of fire
We inherit from heav'n, may be quenched in the clay;
And I pray'd of that Spirit who hghted the flame, That Pleasure no more might its purity dim ;
30 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
So that, sullied but little, or brightly the same, I might give back the boon I had borrow'd from Ilim.
How blest was the thought ! it ajipoar'd as if Heaven Had already an opening to Paradise shown ;
As if, passion all chasten'd and error forgiven, My heart then began to be purely its own.
I look'd to the west, and the beautiful sky
Which morning had clouded, was clouded no more:
" Oh ! thus," I exclaimed, " may a heavenly eye " Shed light on the soul that was darken'd before."
TO THE FLYING-FISH.
"When I have seen thy snow-white wing From the blue wave at evening spring, And show those scales of silvery white, So gaily to the eye of light. As if thy frame were form'd to rise, And live amid the glorious skies ; Oh ! it has made me proudly feel. How like thy wing's impatient zeal Is tlie ])ure soul, that rests not, pent Within this world's gross element. But takes tlie wing that God has given, And rises into light and heaven !
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 31
But, when I see that wing, so bright, Gi'ow languid with a moment's flight, Attempt the paths of air in vain. And sink into the waves again ; Alas ! the flattering pride is o'er ; Like thee, awhile, the soul may soar. But erring man must blush to tiiink, Like thee, again the soul may sink.
Oh Virtue ! when thy clime I seek, Let not my spirit's flight be weak : Let me not, like this feeble thing, "With brine still dropping from its wing, Just sparkle in the solar glow And plunge again to depths below. But, when I leave the grosser throng With whom my soul hath dwelt so long, Let me, in that aspiring day. Cast every lingering stain away. And, panting for thy purer air, Fly up at once and fix me there.
32 POEMS RELATING TO AMEKICA.
TO MISS MOORE.
FROM NORFOLK, IN VIRGINIA, NOVEMBER, 1803.
In days, my Kate, wlien lift; was new, When, lull'd with innocence and you, I heard, in home's beloved shade, The din the world at distance made ; When, every night my weary head Sunk on its own unthorned bed. And, mild as evening's matron hour, Looks on the faintly shutting flower, A motlier saw our eyelids close. And bless'd them into pure repose; Then haply if a week, a day, I linger'd from that home away, How long the little absence seem'd ! How bright the look of Welcome beam'd, As mute you heai-d, with eager smile. My tales of all that pass'd the while !
Yet now, my Kate, a gloomy sea Rolls wide between that home and me ; The moon may tlirice be born and die, Ere ev'n that seal can reacli mine eye, Which used so oft, so quick to come. Still breathing all the breath of home, — As if, still fresh, the cordial air From lips belov'd were lingering there.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 33
But now, alas, — far different fate ! It comes o'er ocean, slow and late, When the dear hand that fill'd its fold "With words of sweetness may lie cold.
But hence that gloomy thought ! at last, Beloved Kate, the waves are past : I tread on earth securely now, And the green cedar's living bough Breathes more refreshment to my eyes Than could a Claude's divinest dyes. At length I touch the happy sphere To liberty and virtue dear, Where man looks up, and, proud to claim His rank within the social frame. Sees a grand system round him roll. Himself its centre, sun, and soul ! Far from the shocks of Europe — far From every wild, elliptic star That, shooting with a devious fire, Kindled by heaven's avenging ire, So oft hath into chaos hurl'd The systems of the ancient world.
The warrior here, in arms no more, Thinks of the toil, the conflict o'er. And glorying in the freedom won For hearth and shrine, for sire and son, Smiles on the dusky webs that hide His sleeping sword's remember'd pride. VOL. 11. 3
34 rOE.MS UELATIXG TO AMERICA.
While Peace, with sunny cheeks of toil, Walks o'ei" the free, unlorded soil, Effacing with her splendid share The drops that war had sprinkled there. Thrice happy land ! where he who flies From the dark ills of other skies, . From scorn, or want's unnerving woes, May shelter him in proud repose: Hope sings along the yellow sand His welcome to a patriot land ; The mighty wood, with pomp, receives The stranger in its world of leaves. Which soon their barren glory yield To the warm shed and cultur'd field ; And he, who came, of all bereft. To whom malignant fate had left Nor home nor friends nor country dear, Finds home and friends and country here.
Such is the picture, warmly such. That Fancy long, with florid touch, Had painted to my sanguine eye Of man's new world of liberty. Oh ! ask me not, if Truth have yet Her seal on Fancj's promise set ; If ev'n a glimpse my eyes behold Of that imagin'd age of gold ; — . Alas, not yet one gleaming trace ! *
* Such roniaiitic works :is " The Aiiicriciui Fiirmer's Letters," and the account of Kentucky by Imlay, would seduce us into ji
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 35
Never did youth, who lov'd a face As sketch'd by some fond pencil's skill And made by fancy lovelier still, Shrink back with more of sad surprise, When the live model met his eyes, Tiian I have felt, in sorrow felt, To find a dream on which I've dwelt From boyhood's hour, thus fade and flee At touch of stern reality !
But, courage, yet, my wavering heart ! Blame not the temple's meanest part * Till thou hast trac'd the fabi'ic o'er : As yet, we have beheld no more Than just the porch to Freedom's fane ; And, though a sable spot may stain The vestibule, 'tis wrong, 'tis sin To doubt the godhead reigns within ! So here I pause — and now, my Kate, To you, and those dear friends, whose fate
belief, that innocence, peace, and freedom had deserted the rest of the world for Martha's Vineyard and the banks of the Ohio. The French travellers, too, almost all from revolutionary motives, have contributed their share to the diffusion of this flattering misconception. A visit to the country is, however, quite suffi- cient to correct even the most enthusiastic prepossession.
* Norfolk, it must be owned, presents an unfavourable speci- men of America. The characteristics of Virginia in general are not such as can delight either the politician or the moralist, and at Norfolk they are exhibited in their least attractive fomi. At the time when we arrived the yellow fever had not yet dis- appeared, and every odour that assailed us in the streets very strong!}- accounted for its visitation.
36 I'OEMS KELATING TO AMERICA.
Touches more near this home-sick soul Than all the Powers from pole to pole, One word at parting, — in the tone Most sweet to you, and most my own. The simple strain I send you here,* "Wild though it be, would charm your ear, Did you but know the trance of thought In which my mind its numbers caught. 'Twas one of those half-waking dreams, That haunt me oft, Avhen music seems To bear my soul in sound along, And turn its feelings all to song. T thought of home, the according lays Came full of dreams of other days ; Freshly in each succeeding note I found some young remembrance float. Till following, as a clue, that strain, I wander'd back to home again.
Oh ! love the song, and let it oft ,
Live on your lip in accents soft. Say that it tells you, simply well, All I have bid its wild notes tell, — Of Memory's dream, of thoughts that yet Glow with the light of joy that's set, And all the fond heart keeps in store Of friends and scenes beheld no more. And now, adieu! — this artless air, With a few rhymes, in transcript fair,
* A trifling attempt at a musical composition accompanied this Epistle.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 37
Are all the gifts I yet can boast , To send you from Columbia's coast ; But when the sun, with warmer smile, Shall light me to my destin'd isle,* You shall have many a cowslip-bell, Where Ariel slept, and many a shell. In which that gentle spirit drew From honey flowers the morning dew.
A BALLAD.
THE LAKE OF THE DISMAL SWAMP.
WRITTEN AT NORFOLK, IN VIRGINIA.
" They tell of a young man, who lost his mind upon the death of a girl he loved, and who, suddenly disappearing from his friends, was never afterwards heard of. As he had frequently said, in his ravings, that the girl was not dead, hut gone to the Dismal Swamp, it is supposed he had wandered into that dreary wilderness, and had died of hunger, or been lost in some of its dreadful morasses.'" — Anon.
" La Poesie a ses monstres comme la nature." — D'Alembert.
" They made her a grave, too cold and damp
" For a soul so warm and true ; "And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal
Swamp,t "Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp,
" She paddles her Avhite canoe.
* Bermuda.
t The Great Dismal Swamp is ten or twelve miles distant from Xorfolk, and the Lake in the middle of it (about seven miles long) is called Drummond's Pond.
38 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
" Alul lior iirc-fly lain}) I soon shall see,
'• And her paddle I soon shall hear ; " Long and loving our life shall be, " And I '11 hide the maid in a cypress tree, " When the footstep of death is near."
Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds —
His path was rugged and sore, Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds. Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds,
And man never trod before.
And, when on the earth he sunk to sleep,
If slumber his eyelids knew. Pie lay, where the deadly vine doth weep Its venomous tear and nightly steep
The flesh with blisterin<}r dew !
D
And near him the she-wolf stirr'd the brake, And the copper-snake breath'd in his ear, Till he starting cried, from his dream awake, *' Oh ! when shall I see the dusky Lake, "And the white canoe of my dear?"
He saw the Lake, and a meteor bright
Quick over its surface play'd — " "Welcome," he said, " my dear-one's light ! " And the dim shore echoed, for many a night, The name of the death-cold maid.
POEMS RELATIXG TO AMERICA. 39
Till he hollow'd a boat of the birchen bark,
Which carried him off from shore ; Far, far he follow'd the meteor spark, The wind Avas high and the clouds were dai'k,
And the boat return'd no more.
But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp
This lover and maid so true Are seen at the hour of midnight damp To cross the Lake by a fire-fly lamp,
And paddle their white canoe !
TO THE MARCHIONESS DOWAGER OF DONEGALL.
FROM BERMUDA, JANUARY, 1804.
Ladt ! where'er you roam, whatever land Woos the bright touches of that artist hand ; "Whether you sketch the valley's golden meads, "Where mazy Linth his lingering current leads ; * Eftamour'd catch the mellow hues that sleep, At eve, on Meillerie's immortal steep ; Or musing o'er the Lake, at day's decline, Mark the last shadow on that holy shrine,t
* Lady Donegal], I had reason to suppose, was at this time still in Switzerland, where the well-known powers of her pencil must have been frequently awakened.
t The chapel of William Tell on the Lake of Lucerne.
40 rOEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
"Where, many a night, the shade of Tell complains Of f4allia's triumph and Helvetia's chains ; Oh ! lay the pencil for a moment by, Turn from the canvas that creative eye, And let its splendour, like the morning ray Upon a shepherd's harp, illume my lay.
Yet, Lady, no — for song so rude as mine, Chase not the M'onders of your art divine ; Still, radiant eye, upon the canvas dwell ; Still, magic finger, weave your potent spell ; And, while I sing the animated smiles Of fairy nature in these sun-born isles. Oh, might the song awake some bright design, Inspire a touch, or prompt one happy line, Proud were my soul, to see its humble thought On painting's mirror so divinely caught ; While wondering Genius, as he lean'd to trace The faint conception kindling into grace, INIight love my numbers for the spark they threw, And bless the lay that lent a charm to you.
Say, have you ne'er, in nightly vision, stray'd . To those pure isles of ever-blooming shade, Which bards of old, with kindly fancy, plac'd For happy spirits in th' Atlantic waste ? *
* JI. Gebclin say?, in his J/om/e Primillf, " Lorsque Strabon criit que les aiiciens tli(5ologieiis et poetes pla^oient les chainpes <51ys<5cs dans les isles de 1' Ocean Atlantique, il n'entendit rien k leur doctrine." M. (Jehelin's supposition, I liavo no doubt, is the more correct; but that of Strabo is, in the present instance, most to my purpose.-
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 41
There listening, while, from earth, each breeze that
came Brought echoes of their own undjnng fame, In eloquence of eye, and dreams of song. They charm'd their lapse of nightless hours along: — Nor yet in song, that mortal ear might suit, For every spirit was itself a lute. Where Virtue waken'd, with elysian breeze, Pure tones of thought and mental harmonies.
o
Believe me. Lady, when the zephyrs bland Floated our bark to this enchanted land, — These leafy isles upon the ocean thrown. Like studs of emerald o'er a silver zone, — Not all the charm, that ethnic fancy gave To blessed arbours o'er the westei-n wave, Could wake a dream, more soothing or sublime, Of bowers ethereal, and the Spirit's clime.
Bright rose the morning, every wave was stiU, When the first perfume of a cedar hill Sweetly awak'd us, and, with smiling charms, The fairy harbour woo'd us to its arms.*
* Nothing can be more romantic than the little harbour of St. George's. The number of beautiful islets, the singular clearness of the water, and the animated play of the gi-accful little boats, gliding for ever between the islands, and seeming to sail from one cedar-gi-ove into another, formed altogether as lovely a minia- ture of nature's beauties as can well be imagined.
42 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Gently we stole, before the whispering wind, Through ]>];iintain shades, that round, like awnings,
twin'd And kis.s'd on either side the wanton sails, Breathing our welcome to these vernal vales ; Wiiile, far reflected o'er the wave serene, Each wooded island shed so soft a green That the enamour'd keel, with whispering play, Through liquid herbage seem'd to steal its way.
Never did weary bark more gladly glide. Or rest its anchor in a lovelier tide ! Along the margin, many a shining dome, White as the palace of a Lai)land gnome, Brighten'd the wave ; — in every myrtle grove Secluded bashful, like a shrine of love. Some elfin mansion sparkU'd through the shade ; And, while tlie foliage iuterj)osing })lay'd. Lending the scene an ever-changing grace, Fancy would love, in glimpses vague, to trace The flowery capital, the shaft, the porch,* And dream of temples, till her kindling torch Lighted me back to all the glorious days Of Attic genius ; and I seem'd to gaze
* Tliis is an ilIii>-ioii wliicli, to the few who arc fanciful enough to in(hilj;e in it, renders tlie scenery of Rerniuda par- ticuhirly interesting. In the short but beautiful twiliglit of their spring evenings, the white cottages, scattered over the islands, and but partially seen tlirougii tlie trees that surround them, assume often the appearance of little Grecian temples.
POEMS RELATING TO A5IERICA. 43
On marble, from the rich Pentelic mount, Gracing the umbrage of some Naiad's fount.
Then thought I, too, of thee, most sweet of all The spirit race that come at poet's call. Delicate Ariel ! who, in brighter hours, Liv'd on the perfume of these honied bowers, In velvet buds, at evening, lov'd to lie, And win with music every rose's sigh. Though weak the magic of my humble strain To charm your spirit from its orb again, Yet, oh, for her, beneath whose smile I sing, For her (whose pencil, if your rainbow wing "Were dimm'd or ruffled by a wintry sky, Could smooth its feather and relume its dye,) Descend a moment from your starry sphere, And, if the lime-tree grove that once was dear, The sunny wave, the bovver, the bi-eezy hill. The sparkling grotto can delight you still. Oh cull their choicest tints, their softest light, Weave all these spells into one dream of night. And, while the lovely artist slumbering lies. Shed the warm picture o'er her mental eyes ; Take for the task her own creative spells, And brightly show what song but faintly tells.
44 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
TO GEORGE MORGAN, ESQ.
OF NOKFOLK, VIKGINIA.
FROM BERMUDA, JANUARY, 1804.
KeivTi 6' TjVEnoeaaa aai. arpoTiog, oia i?' iTunT^r}^, kv9vLr)c: Kai iialOjov eniSpo/xog Tjenep innoig, TlovTcj £vea-7ipiK-ac.
Callimach- Hymn, in Del. t. 11.
Oh, what a sea of storm we've pass'd ! —
High mountain waves and foamy showers, And battHng winds whose savage blast But ill agrees with one whose hours Have jiassed in old Anacreon's bowers. Yet think not poesy's bright charm Forsook me in this rude alarm : — When close they reefd the timid sail,
When, every plank complaining loud. We labour'd in the midnight gale,
And ev'n our haughty main-mast bow'd, Even then, in that unlovely hour, The Muse still brought her soothing power, And, midst the war of waves and wind, In song's Elysium lapp'd my mind. Nay, when no numbers of my own Responded to her ^'akening tone, She open'd, with her golden key, The casket where my memory lays
POEMS KELATIXG TO AMERICA. 45
Those gems of classic poesj,
Which time has sav'd from ancient days.
Take one of these, to Lais sung, — I wrote it while ray hammock swung, As one might write a dissertation Upon " Suspended Animation ! "
Sweet * is your kiss, my Lais dear, But, with that kiss I feel a tear Gush from your eyelids, such as start When those who've dearly lov'd must part. Sadly you lean your head to mine. And mute those arms around me twine, Your hair adown my bosom spread, All glittering with the tears you shed. In vain I've kiss'd those lids of snow. For still, like ceaseless founts they flow. Bathing our cheeks, whene'er they meet. Why is it thus ? do, tell me, sweet ! Ah, Lais ! are my bodings right ? Am I to lose you, is to-night
Our last go, false to heaven and me !
Your very tears are treachery.
Such, while in air I floating hung. Such was the strain, Morgante mio !
* This epigram is by Paul the Silentiary, and may be fouiid in the Aualecta of Bi-unck, vol. iii. p. 72.
46 rOEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
The muse and I together sung,
"Witli Boreas to make out the trio. But, bless tlie little fairy isle !
IIow sweetly after all our ills. We saw the sunny morning smile Serenely o'er its fragrant hills ; And felt the pure, delicious flow Of airs, that round this Eden blow Freshly as ev'n the gales that come O'er our own healthy hills at home.
Could you but view the scenery fair.
That now beneath my window lies, You 'd think, that nature lavish'd there
Her purest wave, her softest skies. To make a heaven for love to sijxh in. For bards to live and saints to die in. Close to my wooded bank below,
In glassy calm the waters sleep, And to the sunbeam proudly show
The coral rocks they love to steep.* The fainting breeze of morning fails;
The drowsy boat moves slowly past,
* The water is so clear around the island, that the rocks are seen beneath to a very great depth; and, as we entered the har- bour, they appeared to us so near the surface that it seemed im- possible we should not strike on them. There is no necessity, of course, for heaving the lead; and the negro pilot, looking down at the rocks from the bow of tiie ship, takes her through this difficult navigation, with a skill and contidence which seem to astonish some of the oldest sailors.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 47
And I can almost touch its sails
As loose they flap around the mast.
The noontide sun a splendour pours
That lights up all these leafy shores ;
While his own heav'n, its clouds and beams, So pictured in the waters lie,
That each small bark, in passing, seems To float along a bui-ning sky.
Oh for the pinnace lent to thee,*
Blest dreamer, who, in vision bright, Didst sail o'er heaven's solar sea
And touch at all its isles of light. Sweet Venus, what a clime he found Within thy orb's ambrosial round ! — f There spring the breezes, rich and warm, That sigh around thy vesper car ;
* In Kircher's " Ecstatic Journey to Heaven," Cosmiel, the genius of tlie world, gives Theodidactus a boat of asbestos, with which he embarks into the regions of the sun. " V'ides (says Cosmifl) hanc asbestinara naviculam commoditati tuse prx- paratam." — Itinerar. I. Dial. i. cap. 5.
t When the Genius of the world and his fellow-traveller ar- rive at the planet Venus, they find an island of loveliness, full of odours and intelligences, where angels preside, who shed the cosmetic influence of this planet over the earth; such being, according to astrologers, the "vis influxiva" of Venus. When the}' are in this part of the heavens, a casuistical question occurs to Theodidactus, and he asks, " Whether baptism may be per- formed with the waters of Venus? " — '' An aquis globi Veneris baptismus institui possit?" to which the Genius answers, " Certainly."
48 rOEMS KKLATING TO AMKUICA.
And fuigels dwell, so pure of form
That ciich appears a living star.* These are the sprites, celestial queen!
Thou sendest nightly to the bed Of lier I love, with touch unseen
Thy planet's brightening tints to shed ; To lend that eye a light still clearer,
To give that cheek one rose-blush more. And bid that blushing lip be dearer,
AVhich had been all too dear before.
But, -whither means the muse to roam ?
'Tis time to call the wanderer home.
Who could have thought the nympli would
perch her Up in the clouds with Father Kircher? So, health and love to all your mansion !
Long may the bowl that pleasures bloom in, The flow of heart, the soul's expansion,
Mirth and song, your board illumine. At all your feasts, remember too,
When cups are sparkling to the brim, That here is one who drinks to you.
And, oh ! as warmly drink to him.
• This idea is Father Kircher's. " Tot animatos soles dix- isses.'' — Itinerar. I. Dial. i. cap. 5.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 49
LINES, WRITTEN IN A STORM AT SEA.
That sky of clouds is not the sky To liglit a lover to the pillow
Of her he loves — The swell of yonder foaming billow Resembles not the happy sigh
That rapture moves.
Yet do I feel more tranquil far Amid the gloomy wilds of ocean,
In this dark hour, Than when, in passion's young emotion, I've stolen, beneath the evening star,
To Juha's bower.
Oh ! there 's a holy calm profound In awe like this, that ne'er was given
To pleasure's thrill ; 'Tis as a solemn voice from heaven. And the soul, listening to the sound.
Lies mute and still.
'Tis true, it talks of danger nigh, Of slumbering with the dead to-morrow In the cold deep, VOL. II. 4
50 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
"Where pleasure's throb or tears of soitow No more shall Avake the heart or eye, But all must sleep.
Well! — there are some, thou stormy bed, To whom thy sleep would be a treasure ;
Oh ! most to him, "Whose lip hath drain'd life's cup of pleasure, Nor left one honey drop to shed
Round sorrow's brim.
Yes — he can smile serene at death :
Kind heaven, do thou but chase the weeping
Of friends who love him ; Tell them that he lies calmly sleeping "Where sorrow's sting or envy's breath
No more shall move him.
ODES TO NEA;
"WEITTEX AT BERMUDA.
NEA TvpavvEi.
EcBiPiD. Medea, v. 967
Nay, tempt me not to love again,
There was a time when love was sweet ; Dear Nea! had I known thee then,
Our souls had not been slow to meet. But, oh, this weary heart hath run.
So many a time, the rounds of pain, Not ev'n for thee, thou lovely one,
"Would I endure such pangs again.
If there be climes, where never yet The print of beauty's foot was set. Where man may pass his loveless nights, Unfever'd by her false delights, Thither my wounded soul would fly, "Where rosy cheek or radiant eye Should bring no more their bhss, or pain. Nor fetter me to earth again.
52 POEMS RELATING TO AMEKICA.
Dear absent girl! whose eyes of liglU,
Thougli little priz'd when all ray own, Now float before me, soft and bright
As when they first enamouring shone, — What hours and days have I seen glide, AVliile fix'd, enchanted, by thy side, Unmindful of the fleeting day, I 've let life's dream dissolve away. 0 bloom of youth profusely shed ! O moments ! simply, vainly sped, Yet sweetly too — for Love perfum'd The flame which thus my life consum'd ; ■ And brilliant was the chain of flowers, In which he led my victim-hours.
Say, Nea, say, couldst thou, like her, When warm to feel and quick to err. Of loving fond, of roving fonder. This thoughtless soul might wish to wander, Couldst thou, like her, the wish reclaim,
Endearing still, reproaching never. Till ev'n this heart should burn with shame,
And be thy own more fix'd than ever ? No, no — on earth there's only one
Could bind such faithless folly fast ; And sure on earth but one alone
Could make such virtue false at last !
Nea, the heart which she forsook.
For thee wei'e but a worthless shrine —
ODES TO NEA. 53
Go, lovely girl, that angel look
Must thrill a soul more pure than mine.
Oh ! thou shalt be all else to me,
That heart can feel or tongue can feign ;
I'll praise, admire, and worship thee, But must not, dare not, love again.
— Tale iter omne cave.
Propert. lib. iv. eleg. 8.
I PRAT you, let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore,
Where late we thoughtless stray'd ; 'T was not for us, whom heaven intends To be no more than simple friends.
Such lonely walks were made.
That little Bay, where turning in From ocean's rude and angry din.
As lovers steal to bliss, The billows kiss the shore, and then Flow back into the deep again,
As though they did not kiss.
Eemember, o'er its cii'cling flood
In what a dangerous dream we stood —
The silent sea before us. Around us, all the gloom of grove, That ever lent its shade to love.
No eve but heaven 's o'er us !
54 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
I saw you blush, you felt me tremble, In vain would formal art dissemble
All we then look'd and thought ; 'Twas more than tongue could dare reveal, 'Twas ev'ry thing that young hearts feel,
By Love and Nature ttuight.
I stoop'd to cull, with faltering hand, A shell that, on the golden sand,
Before us faintly gleam'd ; I trembling rais'd it, and when you Had kist the shell, I kist it too —
How sweet, how wrong it seem'd !
Oh, trust me, 'twas a place, an hour. The worst that e'er the tempter's power
Could tangle me or you in ; Sweet Nea, let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore,
Such walks may be our ruin.
You read it in these spell-bound eyes, And there alone should love be read ;
You hear me say it all in sighs.
And thus alone should love be said.
Then dread no more ; I will not speak ; Although my heart to anguish thrill.
ODES TO NEA. 55
I'll spare the burning of your cheek, And look it all in silence still.
Heard you the wish I dar'd to name, To murmur on that luckless night.
When passion broke the bonds of shame, And love grew madness in your sight ?
Divinely through the graceful dance, You seem'd to float in silent song.
Bending to earth that sunny glance. As if to light your steps along.
Oh ! how could others dare to touch That hallow'd form wdth hand so free.
When but to look was bliss too much, Too rare for all but Love and me !
With smiling eyes, that little thought How fatal were the beams they threw,
My trembling hands you lightly caught. And round me, like a spirit, flew.
Heedless of all, but you alone, —
And you, at least, should not condemn,
If, when such eyes before me shone. My soul forgot all eyes but them, —
I dar'd to whisper passion's vow, —
For love had ev'n of thought bereft me, —
56 POEMS RELATING TO AMEKICA.
Nay, half-way bent to kiss tliat brow, But, witli a bound, you blushing left me.
Forget, forget that night's offence,
Forgive it, if, alas ! you can ; 'Twas love, 'twas passion — soul and sense —
'Twas all that's best and worst in man.
That moment, did th' assembled eyes Of heaven and earth my madness view,
I should have seen, through earth and skies, But you alone — but only you.
Did not a frown from you reprove. Myriads of eyes to me were none ;
Enough for me to win your love, And die upon the spot, when won.
A DREAM OF ANTIQUITY.
I JUST had turn'd the classic page.
And trac'd that ha2>py period over, "When blest alike were youth and age, And love inspired the wisest sage.
And wisdom graced the tenderest lover.
Before I laid me down to sleep Awhile I from tlie lattice gaz'd
ODES TO XEA. 57
Upon that still and moonlight cieep,
With isles like, floating gardens rais'd, For Ai'iel there his sports to keep ; While, gliding 'twixt their leafy shores The lone night-fisher plied his oars.
I felt, — so strongly fancy's power Came o'er me in that witching hour, — As if the whole bright scenery there
Were hghted by a Grecian sky, And I then breath'd the blissful air
That late had thrill'd to Sappho's sigh.
Thus, waking, dreamt I, — and when Sleep
Came o'er my sense, the dream went on ; Nor, through her curtain dim and deep.
Hath ever lovelier vision shone. I thought that, all enrapt, I stray'd Through that serene, luxurious shade, Where Epicurus taught the Loves
To polish virtue's native brightness, — As pearls, Ave 're told, that fondling doves
Have play'd with, wear a smoother whiteness.* 'Twas one of those delicious nights
So common in the climes of Greece, When day withdraws bu,t half its lights.
And all is moonshine, balm, and peace.
* This method of polishing pearls, by leaving them awhile to be played with by doves, is mentioned by the fanciful Cardanus, de Rermn Varietat. lib. vii. cap. 34.
58 POEMS KF.LATING TO AMERICA.
And thou wert there, my own belov'd, And by thy side I fondly rov'd Through many a temple's reverend gloom, And many a bower's seductive bloom, Where Beauty learn'd what wisdom taught, And sages sigh'd and lovers thought ; Where schoolmen conn'd no maxims stern,
But all was form'd to soothe or move, To make the dullest love to learn,
To make the coldest learn to love.
And now the fairy i)athway seera'd
To lead us through enchanted ground. Where all that bard has ever dream'd
Of love or luxury bloom'd around. Oh ! 'twas a bright, bewildering scene — Along tlie alley's deepening green Soft lamps, that hung like burning flowers, And scented and illum'd the bowers, Seem'd, as to him, who darkling roves Amid the lone Hercynian groves, Ai)pear those countless birds of light, That sparkle in tlie leaves at night, And from their wings diffuse a ray Along the traveller's Aveary way.* 'Twas liglit of that mysterious kind,
Through which the soul perchance may roara,
* In Ilercyiiio Germania; saltu inusitata genera alitum ac- cepimns, quarum pluma:, ignium modo, colluceant noctibus. — Plin. lib. X. cap. 47.
ODES TO NEA. 59
"When it has left this world behind,
And gone to seek its heavenly home. And, Nea, thou wert by my side. Through all this heav'n-ward path my guide.
But, lo, as Avand'ring thus we rang'd That upward path, the vision chang'd ; And now, methought, we stole along
Through halls of more voluptuous glory Than ever liv'd in Teian song,
Or wanton'd in Milesian story. And nymphs were there, whose very eyes Seera'd soften'd o'er with breath of sighs ; Whose ev'ry ringlet, as it wreath'd, A mute appeal to passion breath'd. Some flew, Avith amber cups, around,
Pouring the flowery wines of Crete ; * And, as they pass'd with youthful bound,
The onyx shone beneath their feet.f "While others, waving arms of snow
Entwin'd by snakes of burnish'd gold, * And showing charms, as loth to show,
Through many a thin Tarentian fold, .
* " Some of the Cretan wines, which Athenseus calls oivog av^ioauiac, from their fragrancy resembling that of the finest flowers."' — Barry on Whies, chap. vii.
t It appears that in very splendid mansions, the floor or pave- ment was frequently of onyx. Thus Martial: " Calcatnsque tuo sub pede lucet onyx." Epig. 50. lib. xii.
{ Bracelets of this shape were a favourite ornament among the women of antiquity.
60 POEMS KELATIXG TO AMERICA.
Glided among the festal throng
Bearing rich urns of flowers along.
Where roses lay, in languor breathing, [ing,
And the young beegrape,* round thcni wreulh-
llung on their blushes warm and meek,
Like curls upon a rosy cheek.
Oh, Nea ! why did morning break
The spell that thus divinely bound me?
"Why did I wake ? how could I wake
AYith thee my own and heaven around me !
Well — peace to thy heart, though another's it be, And health to that cheek, though it bloom not for
me ! To-morrow I sail for those cinnamon groves,t Where nightly the ghost of the Carribee roves, And, far from the light of those eyes, I may yet Their allurements forgive and their splendour forget.
Farewell to Bermuda,]: and long may the bloom Of the lemon and myrtle its valleys perfume ;
* Apiana, mentioned by Pliny, lilj. xiv. and " now callod the Muscatell (a muscarum telis)," says Pancirollus, book i. sect. i. chap. 17.
t I had, at this time, some idea of paying a visit to the West Indies.
J Tlie inhabitants pronounce the name as if it were written Bermooda. See the commentators on the vords "still-vex'd Bermoothes," in the Tempest.
ODES TO NEA. 61
May spring to eternity hallow the shade, "Where Ariel has warbled and Waller * has stray'd. And thou — when, at dawn, thou shalt happen to roam [home,
Through the lime-cover'd alley that leads to thy "Where oft, when the dance and the revel were done, And the stars were beginning to fade in the sun, I have led thee along, and have told by the way Whatmy heart all the night had been burning to say — Oh ! think of the past — give a sigh to those times. And a blessing for me to that alley of limes.
If I were yonder wave, my dear, And thou the isle it clasps around,
I would not let a foot come near My land of bliss, my fairy ground.
If I were yonder conch of gold,
And thou the pearl within it plac'd,
I would not let an eye behold
The sacred gem my arms embrac'd.
If I were yonder orange-tree.
And thou the blossom blooming there,
I would not yield a breathe of thee To scent the most imploi'ing air.
* Johnson does not think that Waller was ever at Bermuda ; but the "Account of the European Settlements in America" affirms it confidently. (Vol. ii.)
62 rOEMS EELATING TO AMERICA.
Oh ! bend not o'er the water's brink,
Give not the wave that odorous sijih. Nor let its burninj^ mirror drink
The soft reflection of" thine eye. t That glossy hair, that glowing cheek,
So pictur'd in the waters seem. That I could gladly plunge to seek
Thy image in the glassy stream.
Blest fate ! at once my chilly grave And nuptial bed that stream might be ;
I'll wed thee in its mimic wave, And die upon the shade of thee.
Behold the leafy mangrove, bending O'er the waters blue and bright,
Like Nea's silky lashes, lending Shadow to her eyes of light.
Oh, my belov'd ! where'er I turn.
Some trace of thee enchants mine eyes ;
In every star thy glances burn ; Thy blush on every flow'ret lies.
Nor find I in creation aught Of bright, or beautiful, or rare,
Sweet to the sense, or pure to thought, But thou art found reflected there.
ODES TO NEA. 63
THE SNOW SPIRIT.
»■ No, ne'er did the wave in its element steep
An island of lovelier charms ; It blooms in the giant embrace of the deep,
Like Hebe in Hercules' arms. The blush of your bowers is light to the eye,
And their melody balm to the ear ; But the fiery planet of day is too nigh,
And the Snow Spirit never comes here.
The down from his wing is as white as the pearl
That shines through thy lips when they part, And it falls on the green earth as melting, my girl,
As a murmur of thine on the heart. Oh ! fly to the clime, where he pillows the death,
As he cradles the birth of the year ; Bright are your bowers and balmy their breath,
But the Snow Spirit cannot come here.
How sweet to behold him, when borne on the gale,
And brightening the bosom of morn, He flings, like the priest of Diana, a veil
O'er the brow of each virginal thorn. Yet think not the veil he so chillingly casts
Is the veil of a vestal severe ; No, no, thou wilt see, what a moment it lasts,
Should the Snow Spirit ever come here.
G4. rOKMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
But fly to his region — lay open thy zone,
And lie '11 weep all his brilliancy dim, To think that a bosom, as wliite as his own,
Should not melt in the daybeam like him. Oh ! lovely the print of those delicate feet
O'er his luminous path will appear — Fly, my beloved ! this island is sweet,
But the Snow Spirit cannot come here.
Evravda Se Ka&upiuaraL ijfuv. kui utc fiev ovo/m ttj vr]au, ovhi oiHa- XP'^'^V ^' av rrpog ye eftov ovofiaC,oLTO. — rmLosTitAT. Icon. 17. lib. ii.
I STOLE along the flowery bank, While many a bending seagrape * drank The sprinkle of the feathery oar That wing'd me round this fairy shore.
'Twas noon ; and every orange bud Hung languid o'er the crystal flood. Faint as the lids of maiden's eyes AVhen love-thouglits in her bosom rise. Oh, for a naiad's sparry bower, To shade me in that glowing hour !
A little dove, of milky hue, Before me from a plantain flew,
• The seaside or m.ingrove grape, a native of the West Indies.
ODES TO NEA. 65
And, light along the water's brim,
I steer'd my gentle bark by him ;
For fancy told me, Love had sent
This gSntle bird with kind intent
To lead my steps, where I should me^t —
I knew not what, but something sweet.
And — bless the little pilot dove ! He had indeed been sent by Love, To suide me to a scene so dear As fate allows but seldom here ; One of those rare and brilliant hours, That, like the aloe's * lingering flowers, May blossom to the eye of man But once in all his weary span.
Just where the margin's opening shade A vista from the waters made. My bird repos'd his silver plume Upon a rich banana's bloom. Oh vision bright ! oh spirit fair ! What spell, what magic rais'd her there ? 'Twas Nea! slumbering calm and mild, And bloomy as the dimpled child, Whose spirit in elysium keeps Its playful sabbath, while he sleeps.
* The Agave. This, I am aware, is an erroneous notion, but it is quite true enough for poetry. Plato, I think, allows a poet to be " thre.e removes from truth; " rpnarog uko tt]^ a?ir/dEia£.
VOL. II. 5
66 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Tlie broad banana's groen embrace Ilunj^ shadowy round each tranquil grace ; One little beam alone could win The leaves to let it wander in, And, stealing over all her charms. From lip to cheek, from neck to arms, New lustre to each beauty lent, — Itself all trembling as it went !
Dark lay her eyelid's jetty fringe Upon that cheek whose roseate tinge Mix'd with its shade, like evening's light Just touching on the verge of night. Her eyes, thougli tluis in slumber hid, Seem'd glowing through tlie ivory lid, And, as I thought, a lustre threw Upon her lip's reflecting dew, — Such as a night-lamp left to shine Alone on some secluded shrine, «*
May shed upon the votive wreath, Which pious hands have hung beneath.
Was ever vision half so sweet ! Think, think how quick my heart-pulse beat. As o'er the rustling bank I stole ; — Oh ! ye, that know the lover's soul, It is for you alone to guess, That moment's trembling happiness.
ODES TO NEA. 67
A STUDY FROM THE ANTIQUE,
Behold, my love, tlie curious gem Within this simple ring of gold ;
'Tis hallow'd by the touch of them Who liv'd in classic hours of old.
Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps, Upon her hand this gem display'd.
Nor thought that time's succeeding lapse Should see it grace a lovelier maid.
Look, dearest, what a sweet design !
The more we gaze, it charms the more ; Come — closer bring that cheek to mine,
And trace with me its beauties o'er.
Thou seest, it is a simple youth
By some enamour'd nymph embrac'd — Look, as she leans, and say in sooth
Is not that hand most fondly plac'd ?
Upon his curled head behind It seems in careless play to lie,
Yet presses gently, half inclin'd
To bring the truant's lip more nigh.
Oh happy maid ! too happy boy ! The one so fond and little loath,
68 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
The other yielding slow to joy — Oh rare, indeed, but blissful both.
Imagine, love, that I am he.
And just as warm as he is chilling;
Imagine, too, that tliou art she. But quite as coy as she is willing :
So may we try the graceful way
In which tlieir gentle arms are twin'd,
Aiid thus, like her, my hand I lay Upon thy wreathed locks behind :
And thus I feel thee breathing sweet, As slow to mine thy head I move ;
And thus our lips together meet,
And thus, — and thus, — I kiss thee, love.
— 2.il3avoT(f) eiKoaev, on aTro?iAv/i€vov ev(j)paiv£i.
AiuSTOT. Rlietor. lib. iii. cap. 4.
There's not a look, a word of thine,
My soul hath e'er forgot ; Thou ne'er hast bid a ringlet shine. Nor giv'n thy locks one graceful twine
Which I remember not.
There never yet a murmur fell From that beguiling tongue,
ODES TO NEA. G9
Which did not, with a lingering spell, Upon my charmed senses dwell. Like songs from Eden sung.
Ah ! that I could, at once, forget
All, all that haunts me so — And yet, thou witching girl, — and yet, To die were sweeter than to let
The lov'd remembrance go.
No ; if this slighted heart must see
Its faithful pulse decay. Oh let it die, remembering thee, And, like the burnt aroma, be
Consum'd in sweets away.
70 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
TO JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ.
FROM BERMUDA.
" The daylight is gone — but, before we depart, " One cup shall go round to the friend of my heart, " The kindest, the dearest — oh ! judge by the tear " I now shed while I name him, how kind and how dear."
'Twas thus in the shade of the Calabash-Tree, With a few, who could feel and remember like me. The charm that, to sweeten my goblet, I threw, Was a sigh to the past and a blessing on you.
Oh ! say, is it thus, in the mirth-bringing hour. When friends are assembled, when wit, in full flower, Shoots forth from the lip, under Bacchus's dew, In blossoms of thought ever springing and new — Do you sometimes remember, and hallow the brim Of your cup with a sigh, as you crown it to him Who is lonely and sad in these valleys so fair, And would pine in elysium, if friends were not there !
Last night, when we came from the Calabash-Tree, When my Umbs were at rest and my spirit was free,
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 71
The glow of the grape and the dreams of the day Set the magical springs of my fancy in play, And oh, — such a vision as haunted me then I would slumber for ages to witness again. The many I like, and the few I adore. The friends who were dear and beloved before, _ Bnt never till now so beloved and dear, At the call of my Fancy, surrounded me here ; And soon, — oh, at once, did the light of their smiles To a paradise brighten this region of isles ; More lucid the wave, as they look'd on it, flow'd, And brighter the rose, as they gather'd it, glow'd. Not the valleys Hertean (though water'd by rills Of the pearliest flow, from those pastoral hills,* "Where the Song of the Shepherd, primeval and
wild, "Was taught to the nymphs by their mystical child), Could boast such a lustre o'er land and o'er wave As the magic of love to this paradise gave.
Oh magic of love ! unembellish'd by you. Hath the garden a blush or the landscape a hue ? Or shines there a vista in nature or art, [heart?
Like that which Love opes thro' the eye to the
Alas, that a vision so happy should fade ! That, when morning around me in brilliancy play'd,
* Mountains of Sicily, upon which Daphnis, the first inventor of bucolic poetry, was nursed by the nymphs. See the lively description of these mountains in Diodorus Siculus, lib. iv.
72 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
The rose and the stream I had thought of at night Should still be before me, unfadingly bright ; AVliile the friends, who had seem'd to hang over the
stream, And to gather the roses, had fled with my dream.
But look, where, all ready, in sailing array, The bark that 's to carry these pages away,* Impatiently flutters her wing to the wind, And will soon leave these islets of Ariel behind. What billows, what gales is she fated to prove, Ere she sleep in the lee of the land that I love ! Yet pleasant the swell of the billows would be. And the roar of those gales would be music to me. Not the tranquillest air that the winds ever blew, Not the sunniest tears of the summer-eve dew. Were as sweet as the storm, or as bright as the
foam Of the surge, that would hurry your wanderer home.
* A ship, ready to sail for England.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 73
THE STEERSMAN'S SONG,
WRITTEN ABOARD THE BOSTON FRIGATE 28TH APRIL.
When freshly blows tlie northern gale,
And under courses snug we fly ; Or when light breezes swell the sail,
And royals proudly sweep the sky ; 'Longside the wheel, unwearied still
I stand, and, as my watchful eye Doth mark the needle's foithful thrill,
I think of her I love, and cry.
Port, my boy ! port.
When calms delay, or breezes blow
Right from the point we wish to steer ; When by the wind close-haul'd we go.
And strive in vain the port to near ; I think 'tis thus the fates defer
My bliss with one that's far away. And while remembrance springs to her,
I watch the sails and sighing say.
Thus, my boy ! thus.
But see the wind draws kindly aft. All hands are up the yards to square.
And now the floating stu'n-sails waft
Our stately ship through waves and air.
74 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Oh ! then I think that yet for me
Some breeze^ of fortune thus may sprin"',
Some breeze to waft me, love, to thee — And in that hope I smiling sing,
Steady, boy ! so.
TO THE FIRE-FLY.
At morning, when the earth and sky Are glowing with tlie light of spring,
"We see thee not, thou humble fly ! Nor think upon thy gleaming wing.
But when the skies have lost their hue. And sunny lights no longer play.
Oh then we see and bless thee too For sparkling o'er the dreary way.
Thus let me hope, when lost to me The lights that now my life illume,
Some milder joys may come, like thee, To cheer, if not to Avarm, the gloom !
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 75
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT FORBES.
FROM THE CITY OF WASHINGTON.
If former times had never left a trace
Of human fraihy in their onward race,
Nor o'er their pathway written, as they ran,
One dark memorial of the crimes of man ;
If every age, in new unconscious prime.
Rose, like a phenix, from the fires of time,
To wing its way unguided and alone.
The future smihng and the past unknown ;
Then ardent man would to himself be new,
Earth at his foot and heaven within his view :
Well might the novice hope, the sanguine scheme
Of full perfection prompt his daring dream,
Ere cold experience, with her veteran lore,
Could tell him, fools had dreamt as much before.
But, tracing as we do, through age and clime,
The plans of virtue midst the deeds of crime,
The thinking follies and the reasoning rage
Of man, at once the idiot and the sage ;
When still we see, through every varying frame
Of arts and polity, his course the same.
And know that ancient fools but died, to make
A space on earth for modern fools to take ;
'T is strange, how quickly we the past forget ;
That Wisdom's self should not be tutor'd yet.
76 POEMS KELATING TO AMERICA.
Nor tire of watching for the monstrous birth Of pure jjcrfection midst the sons of earth !
Oh ! nothing but that soul which God has given, Could lead us thus to look on earth for heaven ; O'er dross without to shed the light within, And dream of virtue while we see but sin.
Even here, beside the proud Potomac's stream, Might sages still pursue the flattering theme Of days to come, when man shall conquer fate, Rise o'er the level of his mortal state. Belie the monuments of frailty past, And plant perfection in this world at last ! "Here," might they say, "shall power's divided reign " Evince that patriots have not bled in vain. " Here godlike liberty's herculean youth, " Cradled in peace, and nurtur'd up by truth " To full maturity of nerve and mind, " Shall crush the giants that bestride mankind.* " Here shall religion's pure and balmy draught " In form no more from cups of state be quatTd,
* Thus Morse. " Here the sciences and the arts of civilized life are to receive their highest improvements: here civil and religious liberty are to flourish, unchecked by the cruel hand of civil or ecclesiastical tyranny: here genius, aided by all the improvements of former ages, is to be exerted in humanizing mankind, in expanding and enriching their minds with religious and philosophical knowledge," etc. etc. — P. 669.
POEMS RELATING #0 AMERICA. 77
« But flow for all, through nation, rank, and sect, " Free as that heaven its tranquil waves reflect. « Around the columns of the public shrine « Shall growing arts their gradual wreath intwine, " Nor breathe corruption from the flowering braid, " Nor mine that fabric which they bloom to shade. " No longer here shall Justice bound her view, « Or wrong the many, while she rights the few ; " But take her range through all the social frame, " Pure and pervading as that vital flame " "Which warms at once our best and meanest part, « And thrills a hair while it expands a heart ! "
* Oh golden dream ! what soul that loves to scan
The bright disk rather than the dark of man.
That owns the good, while smarting with the ill,
And loves the world with all its frailty still, —
What ardent bosom does not spring to meet
The generous hope, with all that heavenly heat,
Which makes the soul unwilling to resign
The thoughts of growing, even on earth, divine !
Yes, dearest friend, I see thee glow to think
The chain of ages yet may boast a link
Of purer texture than the world has known,
And fit to bind us to a Godhead's throne.
r
But, is it thus ? doth even the glorious dream Borrow from truth that dim, uncertain gleam. Which tempts us still to give such fancies scope, As shock not reason, while they nourish hope ?
78 POEMS ki:la§ing to a.mkkica.
No, no, believe me, 'tis not so — cv'n now, "While yet upon Columbia's rising brow The siiowy smile of young presiunptiun plays, Her bloom is poison'd and her heart decays. Even now, in dawn of life, her sickly breath Burns with the taint of empires near their death ; And, like the nymphs of her own withering clime, She's old in youth, she's blasted in her prime.
Already has the child of Gallia's school The foul Philosophy that sins by rule. With all her train of reasoning, damning arts, Begot by brilliant heads on worthless hearts. Like things that quicken after Nilus' flood. The venom'd birth of sunshine and of mud, — Already has she pour'd her poison here O'er every charm that makes existence dear ; Already blighted, with her blackening trace. The opening bloom of every social grace, And all those courtesies, that love to shoot Round virtue's stem, the flow'rets of her fruit.
And, were these errors but the wanton tide Of young luxuriance or unchasten'd pride ; The fervid follies and the faults of such As wrongly feel, because they feel too much ; Then might experience make the fever less. Nay, graft a virtue on each warm excess. But no; 'tis heartless, speculative ill, All youth's transgression with all age's chill ;
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 79
The apathy of wrong, the bosom's ice, A slow and cold stagnation into vice.
Long has the love of gold, that meanest rage, And latest folly of man's sinking age, Which, rarely venturing in the van of life. While nobler passions wage then* heated strife, Comes skulking last, with selfishness and fear, And dies, collecting lumber in the rear, — Long has it palsied every grasping hand And greedy spirit thrgugh this bartering land ; Turn'd life to traffic, set the demon gold So loose abroad that virtue's self is sold. And conscience, truth, and honesty are made To rise and fall, like other wares of trade.*
Already in this free, this virtuous state. Which, Frenchmen tell us, was ordain'd by fate, To show the world, what high perfection springs From rabble senators, and merchant kings, — Even here already patriots learn to steal Their private perquisites from public W'eal, And, guardians of the country's sacred fire, Like Afric's priests, let out the flame for hire. Those vaunted demagogues, who nobly rose From England's debtors to be England's foes,t
* " Nous voyons que, dans les pays ou Ton n'est affecte que de I'esprit de commerce, on trafique de toutes les actions hu- maines et de toutes les vertus morales." — Montesquieu, de V Esprit des Lois, liv. xx. chap. 2.
t I trust I shall not be suspected of a wish to justify those
80 POEMS KELATIXG TO AMERICA.
Who could their monarch in their purse forget, And break allegiance, but to cancel debt,* Have prov'd at length, the mineral's tempting hue, Which makes a pati'iot, can unmake him too.f Oh ! Freedom, Freedom, how I hate thy cant ! Not Eastern bombast, not the savage rant Of purpled madmen, were they number'd all From Roman Nero down to Russian Paul, Could grate upon my ear so mean, so base, As the rank jargon of that tactions race. Who, poor of heart and prodigal of words, Form'd to be slaves, yet struggling to be lords, Strut forth, as patriots, from their negro-marts, And shout for rights, with rapine in their hearts.
Who can, with patience, for a moment see The medley mass of pride and misery,
arbitrary steps of the English government which the colonies found it so necessary to resist; my only object here is to expose the selfish motives of some of the leading American demagogues.
* The most persevering enemy to the interests of this country, amongst the politicians of the western world, has been a Vir ginian merchant, who, finding it easier to settle his conscience than his debts, was one of the first to raise the standard against Great Britain, and has ever since endeavoured to revenge upon the whole country the obligations which he lies under to a few of its merchants.
t See Porcupine's account of the Pennsylvania Insurrection in 1794. In short, see Porcupine's works throughout, Ibr ample corroboration of every sentiment which I have ventured to ex- press. In saying this, I refer less to the comments of that writer than to the occurrences which he has related and the documents which he has preserved. Opinion may be suspected of bias, but facts speak for themselves.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 81
Of whips and charters, manacles and rights,
Of slaving blacks and democratic whites,
And all the piebald polity that reigns
In free confusion o'er Columbia's plains ?
To think that man, thou just and gentle God !
Should stand before thee with a tyrant's rod
O'er creatures like himself, with souls from thee,
Yet dare to boast of perfect liberty ;
Away, away — I'd rather hold my neck
By doubtful tenure from a sultan's beck,
In climes, where liberty has scarce been nam'd,
Nor any right but that of ruling claim'd,
Than thus to liv6, where bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves ;
"Where — motley laws admitting no degree
Betwixt the vilely slav'd and madly free —
Alike the bondage and the licenGe suit
The brute made ruler and the man made brute.
But, while I thus, my friend, in flowerless song, So feebly paint, what yet I feel so strong, The ills, the vices of the land, where first Those rebel fiends, that rack the world, were nurst. Where treason's arm by royalty was nerv'd. And Frenchmen learn'd to crush the throne they
serv'd — Thou, calmly luU'd in dreams of classic thought. By bards illumin'd and by sages taught, Pant'st to be all, upon this mortal scene. That bard hath fancied or that sage hath been.
VOL. II. 6
82 POEMS RELATIXCr TO AMERICA.
"Why sliould I wake thee ? why severely chase The lovely forms of vh-tue and of grace, That dwell before thee, like tlie pictures spread By Spartan matrons round the genial bed, ]Moulding thy ftmcy, and with gradual art Brightening the young conceptions of thy heart.
Forgive me, Forbes — and should the song de- stroy One generous hope, one throb of social joy, One high pulsation of the zeal for man. Which few can feel, and bless that few who can, — Oh ! turn to him, beneath whose kindred eyes Thy talents open and thy virtues rise, Forjret where nature has been dark or dim, And proudly study all her lights in him. Yes, yes, in him the erring world forget. And feel that man may reach perfection yet.
TO THOMAS HUME, ESQ., M. B.
FROM THE CITY OF WASHINGTOK.
AiTjyrjm/xat. diTjyrj/iaTa laug amara. Koivuva uv Tzsnov&a ovk exfJiv.
Xenophont. EphiS. Ephesiar. lib. v.
'T IS evening now ; beneath the western star Soft sighs the lover through his sweet segar, And fills the ears of some consenting she With puffs and vows, with smoke and constancy.
POliMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 83
liie patriot, fresh from Freedom's councils come, Now pleas'd retires to lash his slaves at home ; Or woo, perhaps, some black Aspasia's charms, And dream of freedom in his bondsmaid's arms.
In fancy now, beneath the twilight gloom, Come, let me lead thee o'er this " second Rome ! " * Where tribunes rule, where dusky Davi bow. And what Avas Goose-Creek once is Tiber now : — f This embryo capital, where Fancy sees Squares in morasses, obelisks in trees ; Which second-sighted seers, ev'n now, adorn With shrines unbuilt and heroes yet unborn, Though nought but woods and Jefferson they see, Where streets should run and sages ought to be.
And look, how calmly in yon radiant wave, The dying sun prepares his golden grave. Oh mighty river ! oh ye banks of shade ! Ye matchless scenes, in nature's morning made. While still, in all th' exuberance of pi-ime. She pour'd her wonders, lavishly sublime,
* " On the original location of the ground now allotted for the seat of the Federal City (says Mr. Weld), the identical spot on which the capitol now stands was called Rome. This anecdote is related by many as a certain prognostic of the future mag- nificence of this city, which is to be, as it were, a second Rome." — Weld's Travels, letter iv.
t A little stream runs through the city, which, with intoler- able aftectation, they have styled the Tiber. It was originally called Goose-Creek.
84 POEMS RELATING TO AMEUICA.
Nor yet had learn'd to stoop, witli humbler care,
Frcai grand to soft, from wonderful to ihh- ; —
Say, were your towering hills, your boundless flood?
Your rich savannas and majestic woods,
Where bards should meditate and heroes rove,
And woman charm, and man deserve her love, —
Oh say, was world so bright, but born to grace
Its own half-organized, half-minded race *
Of weak barbarians, swarming o'er its breast,
Like vermin gcnder'd on the lion's crest ?
"Were none but brutes to call that soil their home,
Where none but demigods should dare to roam ?
Or worse, thou wondrous world ! oh ! doubly worse,
Did heaven design thy lordly land to nurse
The motley dregs of every distant clime,
Each blast of anarchy and taint of crime
Which Europe shakes from her perturbed sphere,
In full malignity to rankle here ?
But hold, — observe yon little mount of pines. Where the breeze murmurs and the fire-fly shines. There let thy fancy raise, in bold relief. The sculptur'd image of that veteran chief t
* The picture which Buffon and De Pauw have drawn of the American Indian, though very humiliating, is, as Air as I can judge, much more correct than the llattering representations •which Jlr. Jefferson has given us.
t On a small hill near the capitol there is to be an equestrian statue of General Washington.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 85
VTho lost the rebel's in the hero's name, And climb'd o'er prostrate loyalty to fame ; Beneath whose sword Columbia's patriot train Cast off their monarch, that their mob might reign-
IIow shall we rank thee upon glory's page ? Thou more tlian soldier and just less than sage ! Of peace too fond to act the conqueror's part, Too long in camps to learn a statesman's art, Nature design'd thee for a hero's mould. But, ere she cast thee, let the stuff grow cold.
While loftier souls command, nay, make their fate, Thy fate made thee and forc'd thee to be great. Yet Fortune, who so oft, so blindly~sheds Her brightest halo round the weakest heads, Found thee undazzled, tranquil as befoi'e, Proud to be useful, scorning to be more ; Less mov'd by glory's than by duty's claim, Reriown the meed, but self-applause the aim ; All that thou ivert reflects less fame on thee, Far less, than all thou didst forbear to be. Nor yet the patriot of one land alone, — For, thine 's a name all nations claim their own ; And every shore, where breath'd the cood and brave, Echo'd the plaudits thy own country gave.
Now look, my friend, where faint the moonlight falls On yonder dome, and, in those princely halls, —
86 ' POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
If thou canst hate, as sure that soul must hate, Which loves the virtuous, and reveres the great, — If thou canst loathe and execrate with me The poisonous drug of French pliilosophy, That nauseous slaver of these frantic times, "With wliich false liberty dilutes her crimes, — If thou hast got, within thy freeborn breast, One pulse that beats more proudly than the rest, "With honest scorn for that inglorious soul. Which creeps and winds beneath a mob's control, Which courts the rabble's smile, the rabble's nod, And makes, like Egypt, every beast its god. There, in those walls — but, burning tongue, forbear! Rank must be reverenc'd, even the rank that's there : So here I pause — and now, dear Hume, we part : But oft again, in frank exchange of heart, Thus let us meet, and mingle converse dear By Tiiames at home, or by Potomac here. O'er lake and marsh, through fevers and through fogs. Midst b(!ars and yankees, democrats and frogs, Thy foot shall follow me, thy heart and eyes With me sliall wonder, and Avith me despise. Wh'le I, as oft, in fancy's dream sliall rove, With thee conversing, through that land I love, Where, like the air that ftms her fields of green. Her freedom spreads, unfever'd and serene ; And sovereign man can condescend to see The throne and laws more sovereign still than he.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 87
I
LINES WRITTEN ON LEAVING PHILADELPHIA
TTjvSe Ti]v ■KoTuv (bCkuq
EiiTTuv ETva^ia yap.
SoPHOCL. (Edip. Colon, v. 758.
Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd, And bright were its flowery banks to his eye ;
But far, very far were the friends that he lov'd, And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
Oh Nature, though blessed and bright are thy rays, O'er the brow of creation enchantingly thrown,
Yet faint are they all to the lustre that plays
In a smile from the heart that is fondly our own.
Nor long did the soul of the stranger remain
Unblest by the smile he had languish'd to meet ;
Though scarce did he hope it would soothe him
again, [feet.
Till the threshold of home had been pjest by his
But the lays of his boyhood had stol'n to their ear, And they lov'd what they knew of so humble a name ; And they told him, Avith flattery welcome and dear. That they found in his heart something better than fame.
88 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Nor did woman — oh woman! whose form and whose soul Are the spell and the light of each path we pur- sue ; Whether sunn'd in the tropics or chill'd at the pole, If woman be there, there is happiness too : —
Nor did she her enamouring magic deny, —
That magic his heart had relinquish'd so long, —
Like eyes he had lov'd was her eloquent eye, Like them did it soften and weep at his song.
Oh, blest be the tear, and in memory oft
May its sparkle be shed o'er the wanderer's dream ;
Thrice blest be that eye, and may passion as soft. As free from a ptyig, ever mellow its beam !
The stranger is gone — but he will not forget.
When at home he shall talk of the toils he has known,
To tell, with a sigh, what endearments he met. As he st^'ay'd by the wave of the Schuylkill alone.
POEMS RELATIlfG TO AMERICA. 89
LINES WRITTEN AT THE COHOS, OR FALLS OF THE MOHAWK RIVER*
6ia era in loco ove s' udia '1 rimbombo
Dell' acqua . Daste.
From rise of morn till set of sun
I've seen the mighty Mohawk run ;
And as I mark'd the woods of pine
Along his min-or darkly shine,
Like tall and gloomy forms that pass
Before the wizard's midnight glass ;
And as I view'd the hurrying pace
With which he ran his turbid race,
Rushing, alike untir'd and wild,
Through shades that frown'd and flowers that
smil'd. Flying by every green recess That woo'd him to its calm caress,
* There is a drearj' and savage character in the country im- mediately about these Falls, which is much more in harmony with the wildness of such a scene than the cultivated lands in the neighbourhood of Niagara. See the drawing of them in Mr. Weld's book. According to him, the perpendicular height of the Cohos Fall is fifty feet; but the Marquis de Chastellux makes it seventy-six.
The fine rainbow, which is continually forming and dissolving, as the spray rises into the light of the sun, is perhaps the most interesting beauty which these wonderful cataracts exhibit.
90 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Yet, sometimes turning with the wind, As if to leave one look behind, — Oft have I thought, and thinking sigh'd, ITow like to thee, thou restless title, jNIay be the lot, the life of him AViio roams along thy water's brim ; Through what alternate wastes of woe And flowers of joy my path may go ; How many a shelter'd, calm retreat INIay woo the while my weary feet, "While still pursuing, still unblest, I Avander on, nor dare to rest ; But, urgent as the doom that calls Thy water to its destin'd falls, I feel the world's bewildering force Hurry my heart's devoted course From lapse to lapse, till life be done, And the spent current cease to run.
One only prayer I dare to make, As onward thus my course I take ; — Oh, be my falls as bright as thine ! May heaven's relenting rainbow shine Upon the mist that circles me, As soft as now' it hangs o'er thee !
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 91
SOXG OF THE EVIL SPIRIT OF THE WOODS.*
Qua yia difficilis, qua(iue est via nulla.
Otid. Metam. lib. iii. v. 227.
Now the vapour, hot and damp, Shed by day's expiring lamp, Through the misty ether spreads E^'ery ill the white man dreads ; Fiery fever's thu'sty thrill. Fitful ague's shivering chill !
Hark ! I hear the traveller's song, As he winds the woods along ; — Christian, 't is the song of fear ; "Wolves are round thee, night is near, And the wild thou dar'st to roam — Think, 'twas once the Indian's home ! f
* The idea of this poem occurred to me in passing throngh the very dreary wilderness between Batavia, a new settlement in the midst of the woods, and the little village of Buffalo upon Lake Erie. This is the most fatiguing part of the route, in travelling through the Genesee countrj- to Niagara.
t " The Five Confederated 'Nations (of Indians) were settled along the banks of the Susquehannah and the adjacent country, until the year 1779, when General Sullivan, with an arm_v of 4,000 men, drove them from their country to Niagara, where, being obliged to live on salted provisions, to which they were unaccustomed, great numbers of them died. Two hundred of them, it is said, were buried in one grave, where they had ea- camped." — Morse's American Geography.
92 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Hither, sprites, who love to liavm, Wheresoe'er you work your charm, By the creeks, or by the brakes. Where the pale witch feeds her snakes, And the cayman loves to creep, Torpid, to his wintry sleep : Where the bird of carrion flits. And the shuddering murderer sits,* Lone beneath a roof of blood ; While upon his poison'd food, From the corpse of him he slew Drops the chill and gory dew.
Hither bend ye, turn ye hither, Eyes that blast and wings that wither ! Cross the wandering Christian's way. Lead him, ere the glimpse of day. Many a mile of mad'ning error Througli the maze of night ami terror, Till the morn behold him lying On the damp earth, pale and dying. Mock liim, when his eager siclit Seeks the cordial cottage-lijrht : Gleam then, like the liglitning-bug. Tempt him to the den that's dug
* This was the mode of punishment for murder (as Charle- voix tells us) among the Hurons. " They laid the dead body upon poles at the top of a cabin, and the murderer was obliged to remain several days together, and to receive all that dropped from the carcass, not only on himself but on his food."
POEilS KELATING TO AMERICA. 93
For the foul and famisli'd brood Of the she-wolf, gaunt for blood ; Or, unto the dangerous pass O'er the deep and dark morass, Where the tremblinsr Indian brings Belts of porcelain, pipes, and rings, Tributes, to be hung in air, To the Fiend presiding there ! *
Then, when night's long labour past, Wilder'd, faint, he falls at last. Sinking where the causeway's edge Moulders in the slimy sedge, There let every noxious thing Trail its filth and fix its sting ; Let the bull-toad taint him over, Round him let musquitoes hover, In his ears and eyeballs tingling, With his blood their poison mingling, Till, beneath the solar fires, Eankling all, the wretch expires !
* " We find also collars of porcelain, tobacco, ears of maize, skins, etc. by the side of difTicult and dangerous waj's, on rocks, or by the side of the falls; and these are so many otTerings made to the spirits which preside in these places." — See Charlevoix's Letter on the Traditions ami the Religion of the Savages of Canada.
9 *
94 POEMS RELATING TO AMKRICA.
TO THE HONOURABLE W. 1?. SPENCER.
FROM BUFFALO, UPON LAKE KRIE.
Nec venit ad duros mu5a vocata Gctas.
Ovid, ex Ponto, lib, 1. up. 5.
Thou oft hast told mc of the happy hours
Enjoy'd by thee in fair Itaha's bowers,
Where, hngering yet, the ghost of ancient wit
Midst modern monks profanely dares to flil,
And pagan spirits, by the Pope unlaid.
Haunt every stream and sing througli every shade,
Tliere still the bard who (if his numbers be
His tongue's light echo) must have talk'd like thee,—
The courtly bai-d, from whom thy mind has caught
Those playful, sunshine holydays of thought.
In which the spirit baskingly reclines,
Bright without effort, resting while it shines, —
There still he roves, and laughing loves to see
How modern priests with ancient rakes agree ;
How, 'neath the cowl, the festal garland shines,
And Love still finds a niche in Christian shrines.
There still, too, roam those other souls of song, AVith whom thy spirit hath commun'd so long. That, quick as light, their rarest gems of thought, By Memory's magic to thy lip are brought. But here, alas ! by Erie's stormy lake. As, far from such bright haunts my course I take,
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 95
No proud remembrance o'er the fancy plays, No classic dream, no star of otlier days Hath left that visionary light behind. That lingering radiance of immortal mind, "Which gilds and hallows even the rudest scene, The humblest shed, where Genius once has been !
All that creation's varying mass assumes Of grand or lovely, here aspires and blooms ; Bold rise the mountains, rich the gardens glow. Bright lakes expand, and conquering * rivers flow ; But mind, immortal mind, without whose ray, ■ This world 's a wilderness and man but clay. Mind, mind alone, in barren, still repose. Nor blooms, nor rises, nor expands, nor flows. Take Christians, Mohawks, democrats, and all From the rude wigwam to the congress-hall, From man the savage, whether slav'd or free, To man the civiliz'd, less tame than he, — 'Tis one dull chaos, one unfertile strife Betwixt half-polish'd and half-barbarous life ;
* This epithet was suggested by Charlevoix's striking de- scription of the confluence of the Missouri with the Mississippi. " I believe this is the finest confluence in the world. The two rivers are much of the same breadth, each about half a league; but the Missouri is by far the most rapid, and seems to enter the Mississippi like a conqueror, through which it carries its white ■waves to the opposite shore, without mixing them: afterwards it gives its colour to the Mississippi, which it never loses again, but carries quite down to the sea." — Letter xxvii.
96 rOEMS llELATIXG TO AMERICA.
"Where every ill the ancient world could brew Is niix'd with every grossness of the new; Wliere all corrupts, though little can entice, And nought is known of luxury, but its vice !
Is this the region then, is this the clime For soaring fancies ? for those dreams sublime, Which all their miracles of light reveal To heads that meditate and hearts that feel ? Alas! not so — the Muse of Nature lights Her glories round ; she scales the mountain heights. And roams the forests ; every wond'rous spot Burns with her step, yet man regards it not. She whispers round, her words are in the air, But lost, unheard, they linger freezing there,* "Without one breath of soul, divinely strong, One ray of mind to thaw them into song.
Yet, yet forgive me, oh ye sacred few, "Whom late by Delaware's green banks I knew ; "Whom, known and lov'd through many a social eve, 'Twas bliss to live with, and 'twas pain to leave. Not with more joy the lonely exile scann'd The writing traced upon the desert's sand, "Wliere his lone heart but little hop'd to tind One trace of life, one stamp of human kind,
* Alluding to the fanciful notion of " words congealed in northen; iiir."
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 97
Than did I hail the pure, th' enlighten'd zeal, The strength to reason and the warmth to feel. The manly polish and the illi^min'd taste, Which, — mid the melancholy, heartless waste My foot has travers'd, — oh you sacred few ! I found by Delaware's green banks with you.
Long may you loathe the Gallic dross that runs Through your fair country and corrupts its sous ; Long love the arts, the glories which adorn Those fields of freedom, where your sires were bom. Oh ! if America can yet be great, If neither chain'd by choice, nor doom'd by fate To the mob-mania which imbrutes her now. She yet can raise the crown'd, yet civic brow Of single majesty, — can add the grace Of Rank's rich capital to Freedom's base. Nor fear the mighty shaft Avill feebler prove For the fair ornament that flowers above ; — If yet releas'd from all that pedant throng, So vain of error and so pledged to wrong. Who hourly teach her, like themselves, to hide Weakness in vaunt, and barrenness in pride. She yet can rise, can wreathe the Attic charms Of soft refinement round the pomp of arms, And see her poets flash the fires of song, To light her warriors' thunderbolts along ; — It is to you, to souls that favouring heaven Has made like youi-s, the glorious task is given : — VOL. n. 7
98 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Oh ! but for suc/i, Columbia's days were done ; Eank without ripeness, quickcn'd without sun, Crude at the surface, rotten at the core, Her fruits would full, before her spring were o'er.
Believe me, Spencer, while I wing'd the hours Where Schuylkill winds his way through banks of
flowers. Though few the days, the happy evenings few. So warm with heart, so rich with mind they flew, That my charm'd soul forgot its wish to roam. And rested there, as in a dream of home. And looks I met, like looks I 'd lov'd before. And voices too, which, as they trembled o'er The chord of memory, found full many a tone Of kindness there in concord with their own. Yes, — we had nights of that communion free. That flow of heart, which I have known with thee So oft, so warmly ; nights of mirth and mind. Of whims that taught, and follies that refin'd. "When shall we both renew them ? when, restor'd To the gay feast and intellectual board. Shall I once more enjoy with thee and thine Those wliims that teach, those follies that refine ? Even now, as, wandering upon Erie's shore, I hear Niagara's distant cataract roar, I sigh for home, — alas ! these weary feet Have many a mile to journey, ere we meet.
Q HATPIS, 'QS 20Y KAPTA NYN MNEIAN EXfl.
EURU'IDES.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 99
BAI.LAD STANZAS.
I KNEW by the smoke, that so gracefully curl'd
Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there 's peace to be found in the world, " A heart that was humble might hope for it here ! "
It was noon, and on flowers that languish'd around In silence repos'd the voluptuous bee ;
Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound But the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree.
And, " Here in this lone little wood," I exclaim'd,
" With a maid who was lovely to soul and to eye, " Who would blush when I prais'd her, and weep if I blam'd, "How blesi could I live, and how calm could I die!
" By the shade of yon sumach, whose red berry dips " In the gush of the fountain, how sweet to recline,
" And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips, " Which had never been sigh'd on by any but
mme
I"
100 rOEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
A CANADIAN BOAT SONG.
WKITTEN ON THE lUVliU ST. LAWRENCE.* £t remigcm cantus hortatur.
QCUiTILIAN.
Faixtly as tolls the evening chime
Our voices kee^D tune and our oars keep time.
Soon as the woods on shore look dim,
We '11 sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn.f
* I wrote these words to an air which our boatmen sung to us frequently. The wind was so unfavourable that they were obliged to row all the way, and we were five days in descending the river from Kingston to ^[ontrcal, exposed to an intense sun during the day, and at night forced to take shelter from the dews in any miserable hut upon the banks that would receive us. But the magnificent scenery of the St. Lawrence repays all such difficulties.
Our voyayeurs had good voices, and sung perfectly in tune together. The original words of the air, to which I ada])ted these stanzas, appeared to be a long, incoherent story, of which I could understand but little, from the barbarous pronunciation of the Canadians. It begins
Daus mon chemin j'ai rencontr^ Deux cavaliers tres-bien months; And the refrain to every verse was,
A I'ombre d'un bois je m'en vais jouer, A I'ombrc d'un bois je m'cn vais danser.
t " At the Rapid of St. Ann they are obliged to take out part, if not the whole, of their lading. It is from this spot tlie Cana- dians consider they take their departure, as it possesses the last church on the island, which is dedicated to the tutelar saint of voyagers." — Mackenzie, General History of the Fur Trade.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 101
Kow, brothers, ro\\', the stream runs fast, The Eapids are near and the daylight's past.
yi'hj should we yet our sail unfurl ? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl. But, when the wind blows off the shore, Oh ! sweetly we '11 rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Utawas' tide ! tliis trembling moon Shall see us float over thy surges soon. Saint of this green isle ! hear our prayers, Oh, grant us cool heavens and favouring airs. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast. The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
TO THE LADY CHARLOTTE RAWDON.
FROM THE BANKS OF THE ST. LAWEEXCE.
Not many months have now been dream'd away Since yonder sun, beneath whose evening ray Our boat glides swiftly past these wooded shores, Saw me where Trent his mazy current pours. And Donington s old oaks, to every breeze, Whisper the tale of by-gone centuries ; — Those oaks, to me as sacred as the groves, Beneath whose shade the pious Persian roves,
102 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
And hears the spirit-voice of sire, or chief, Or loved mistress, sigh in every leaf.* There, oft, dear Lady, while thy lip hath sung My own unpolish'd lays, how proud I've hung On every tuneful accent ! proud to feel That notes like mine should have the fate to steal, As o'er thy hallowing lip they sigh'd along, Such breath of passion and such soul of song. Yes, — I have Avonder'd, like some peasant boy Who sings, on Sabbath-eve, his strains of joy, And when he hears the wild, untutor'd note Back to his ear on softening echoes float, Believes it still some answering spirit's tone, And thinks it all too sweet to be his own !
I dreamt not then that, ere the rolling year Had fill'd its circle, I should wander here In musing awe ; should tread this wondrous world, See all its store of inland waters hurl'd In one vast volume down Niagara's steep, Or calm behold them, in transparent sleep, "Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed Their evening shadows o'er Ontario's bed; Should trace the grand Cadaraqui, and glide Down the white rapids of his lordly tide
* " Avenclo essi per costume di avere in veneraziorie gli alberi grand! et anticlii, quasi che siano spesso ricettaccoli di anime beate."' — Pktro chlla Valle, part second., lettcra 16 da i giardiiii di Sciraz.
POEMS KELATING TO AJIEKICA. 103
Through massy woods, mid islets flowering fair, And blooming glades, where the first sinful pair For consolation might have weeping trod. When banish'd from the garden of their God. Oh, Lady ! these are miracles, which man, Cag'd in the bounds of Europe's pigmy span, Can scarcely dream of, — which his eye must see To know how wonderful this world can be !
But lo, — the last tints of the west decline, And night falls dewy o'er these banks of pine. Among the reeds, in which our idle boat Is rock'd to rest, the wind's complaining note Dies like a half-breath'd whispering of flutes ; Along the wave the gleaming porpoise shoots, And I can trt^ce him, like a watery star,* Down the steep current, till he fades afar Amid the foaming breakers' silvery light, Where yon rough rapids sparkle through the night. Here, as along this shadowy bank I stray, And the smooth glass-snake,t gliding o'er my way, Shows the dim moonlight through his scaly form. Fancy, with all the scene's enchantment warm. Hears in the murmur of the nightly breeze Some Indian Spirit warble words like these : —
* Anburey, in his Travels, has noticed this shooting illumina- tion, which porpoises diffuse at night through the river St. Lawrence. — Vol. i. p. 29.
t The glass-snake is brittle and transparent.
104 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
From the land beyond the sea, AYhither happy spirits flee ; Where, transform'd to sacred doves,* Many a blessed Indian roves Tlirough the air on wing, as white As those wond'rous stones of light,t Which the eye of morning counts On the Apallachian mounts, — Hither oft my flight I take Over Hui'on's lucid lake, Where the wave, as clear as dew, Sleeps beneath the light canoe. Which, reflected, floating there, Looks as if it hung in air.
Then, when I have stray'd a while Through the Manatanlin isle,| Bieathing all its holy bloom. Swift I mount me on the plume Of my Wakon-Bird,§ and fly Where, beneath a burning sky,
* " The (Icpurteil spirit goes into the Couiitrv of Souls, where, according to some, it is tnuisformed into !x clove." — Charlevoix, upon the Trn</itii>ns (iml the RvUij'wn of the Snrnyes of Canada. See tlie curious (hble of the American Orpiieus in Lalilau, torn. i. p. 402.
t " The mountains appeared to be sprinkled witii white stones, ■which glisteiiod in the >un, and were called by the Indians man- etoe aseniah, or spirit-stones." — Mackenzie' s Joiir-naL
X Manatanlin signifies a Place of Spirits, and this island in Lake Huron is held sacred by the Indians.
§ " The Wakon-Bird, which probably is of the same species
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 105
O'er the bed of Erie's lake Slumbers many a water-snake, Wrapt Avithln the web of leaves, "Which the water-lily weaves.* Next I chase the flow'ret-king Through his rosy realm of spring ; See him now, while diamond hues Soft his neck and wings suffuse, In the leafy chalice sink. Thirsting for his balmy drink ; Now behold liira all on fire, Lovely in his looks of ire, Breaking every infant stem, Scattering every velvet gem, Where his little tyrant lip Had not found enough to sip.
Then my playful hand I steep Where the gold-thread f loves to- creep, Cull from thence a tangled wreath. Words of magic round it breathe,
•Nvith the Bird of Paradise, receives its name from the ideas the Indians have of its superior excellence ; the Wakon-Bird being, in their lancjuage, the Bird of the Great Spirit." — Moise.
* The islands of Lake Erie are surrounded to a considerable distance bv the large pond-lily, whose leaves spread thickly over the surface of the lake, and form a kind of bed for the water- snakes in summer.
t " The gold-thread is of the vine kind, and gi-ows in swamps. The roots spread themselves just under the surface of the mo- rasses, and are easily drawn out by handfuls. Thev resemble a large entangled skein of silk, and are of a bright yellow." — JUorse.
106 POEMS HKLATING TO AMERICA.
And the sunny chaplet spread O'er the sleeping fly-bird's liead, Till, Avith dreams of honey blest, Haunted, in his downy nest, By the garden's fairest spells, Dewy buds and fragrant bells, Fancy all his soul embowers In the fly-bird's heaven of flowers.
Oft, when hoar and silvery flakes Melt along the ruffled lakes. When the gray moose sheds his horns, "NYlicn the track, at evening, warns Weary hunters of the way To the wigwam's cheering ray, Then, aloft through freezing air, With the snow-bird * soft and fair As the fleece that heaven flings O'er his little pearly wings, Light above the rocks I play, Where Niagara's starry spray, Frozen on the cliff', appears Like a giant's starting tears. There, amid the island-sedge, Just upon the cataract's edge, Where the foot of living man Never trod since time began, Lone I sit, at close of day, While, beneath the golden ray,
• Embcriza hyemalis. — See Imlay's Kentucky, p. 280.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 107
Icy columns gleam below, Feather'd round with falling snow, And an arch of glory springs, Sparkling as the chain of rings Round the neck of virgins hung, — Virgins,* who have wander'd young O'er the waters of the west To the land where spirits rest !
Thus have I charm'd, with visionary lay, The lonely moments of the night away ; And now, fresh daylight o'er the water beams ! Once more, embark'd upon the glittering streams, Our boat flies light along the leafy shore. Shooting the falls, without a dip of oar Or breath of zephyr, like the mystic bark The poet saw, in dreams divinely dark, Borne, without sails, along the dusky flood,! While on its deck a pilot angel stood. And, with his wings of living light unfurl'd, Coasted the dim shores of another world I
* Lnfitau supposes that there was an order of vestals estab- lished among the Iroquois Indians. — Moeurs des Sauvages Am&ricains, etc. torn. i. p. 173.
t Vedi che sdegna gli argomenti umani ; Si che remo non vuol, ne altro velo, Che r ale sue tra liti si lontani.
Vedi come 1' ha dritte verso '1 cielo Trattando 1' aere con 1' eterne penne; Che non si mutan, come mortal pelo.
Dante, Purgator. cant. ii.
108 POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
Yet, oh ! believe me, mid tliis mingled maze Of nature's beauties, where the fancy strays From charm to charm, where every flow'ret's hue Hath something strange, and every leaf is new, — I never feel a joy so pure and still. So inly felt, as when some brook or hill, Or veteran oak. like those remember'd well. Some mountain echo or some wild-flower's smell, (For, who can say by what small fairy ties The mem'ry clings to pleasure as it flies ?) Reminds my heart of many a silvan dream I once indulg'd by Trent's inspiring stream ; Of all my sunny morns and moonlight nights On Donington's green lawns and bi-eezy heights.
"V^hether I trace the tranquil moments o'er Wlien I have seen thee cull the fruits of lore, With him, the [)olish'd warrior, by thy side, A sister's idol and a nation's pride ! Wlien thou hast read of heroes, trophied high In ancient fame, and I have seen thine eye Turn to the living hero, while it read, For pure and brightening comments on the dead; — Or whetlicr memory to my mind recalls The festal grandeur of tliose lordly halls. When guests have met around the sparkling board, And welcome warm'd the cup that luxury pour'd: When the briglit future Star of England's throne, With magic smile, liath o'er the banquet shone,
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 109
Winning respect, nor claiming what he Avon, But tempering greatness, like an evening sun Whose light the eye can tranquilly admire, Radiant, but mild, all softness, yet all fire ; — Whatever hue my recollections take, Even the regret, the very pain they wake Is mix'd Avith happiness ; — but, ah ! no moi'e — Lady ! adieu — my heart has linger'd o'er Those vanish'd times, till all that round me lies, Stream, banks, and bowers have faded on my eyes !
IMPROMPTU
AFTER A VISIT TO 5IKS. , OF 3IOXTKEAL.
'T "SVAS but for a moment — and yet in that time She crowded th' impressions of many an hour :
Her eye had a glow, like the sun of her clime. Which wak'd every feeling at once into flower.
Oh ! could we have borrow'd from Time but a day, To renew such impressions again and again,
The things Ave should look and imagine and say. Would be Avorth all the life Ave had Avasted till then.
What Ave had not the leisure or language to speak, We should find some more spiritual mode of re- vealing,
And, between us, should feel just as much in a week As others would take a millennium in feeling.
110 rOEMS KKLATIXG TO AMKKICA.
AVRITTEN ON PASSING DEADMAN'S ISLAND,*
IN THE GULF OF ST. LAWRKNCE, LATE IN TIIK EVENING, SEPTEM15EH, 1804.
See you, beneath yon cloud so dark,
Fast gliding along a gloomy bark ?
Her sails are full, — though the wind is still,
And there blows not a breath her sails to fill !
Say, what doth that vessel of darkness bear ? The silent calm of the grave is there. Save now and again a death-knell rung, And the flap of the sails with night-fog hung.
There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore Of cold and pitiless Labrador ; "Where, under the moon, upon mounts of frost, Full many a mariner's bones are tost.
Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck, And the dim blue fire, that lights her deck, Doth play on as pale and livid a crew As ever yet drank the churchyard dew.
* This is one of the IMiigdalen Islands, and, sinfjularly enough, is the property of Sir Isaac Cofliii. The above lines were sug- gested by a superstition very common among sailors, who call this ghost-ship, I think, " the flying Dutchman."
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. Ill
To Deadraan's Isle, in the eye of the blast, To Deadman's Isle, she speeds her fast ; By skeleton shapes her sails are fiu-l'd, Aiid the hand that steers is not of this world !
Oh ! hurry thee on — oh ! hurry thee on, Thou terrible bark, ere the night be gone, JSTor let morning look on so foul a sight As would blanch forever her rosy light !
TO THE BOSTON FRIGATE,
ON LEAVING HALIFAX FOR ENGLAND, OCTOBER, 1604.
NoCTTOv npo(paaig y2.VKepov.
Pindar. Pi/th. 4.
With triumph this morning, oh Boston ! I hail The stir of thy deck and the spread of thy sail, For they tell me I soon shall be wafted, in thee, To the flourishing isle of the brave and the free. And that chill Nova-Scotia's unpromising strand Is the last I shall tread of American land. Well — peace to the land ! may her sons know, at
length. That in high-minded honour lies liberty's strength, That though man be as free as the fetterless wind, As the wantonest air that the north can unbind,
112 pok:ms nrxATiNG to amkkica.
Yet, if heiilth do not temper and SAveeten the blast, If no harvest of mind ever sprung where it pa.ss'd, Then uiihk'st is sueh freedom, and baleful its
might,— Free only to ruin, and strong but to blight !
Farewell to the few I have left with regret ; May they sometimes recall, what I cannot forget, Tlie delight of those evenings, — too brief a delight ! When in converse and song we have stol'n on the
night ; [the mien
When they've ask'd me the manners, the mind, or Of some bard I had known or some chief I had seen, Whose glory, though distant, they long had ador'd. Whose name had oft hallow'd the wine-cup they
j)our'd. And still as, with sympathy humble but true, I have told of each bright son of fame all I knew, They have listen'd, and sigh'd that the powerful
stream Of America's empire should pass, like a dream, Without leaving one relic of genius, to say How sublime was the tide which had vanish'd away ! Farewell to tlie few — though we never may meet On this planet again, it is soothing and sweet To think that, whenever my song or my name Shall recur to their ear, they'll recall me the same I have been to them now, young, unlhoughtful, and
blest. Ere hope had deceiv'd me or sorrow deprest.
POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA. 113
But, Douglas ! while thus I recall to my mind The elect of the land we shall soon leave behind, I can read in the weather-wise glance of thine eye, As it follows the rack flitting over the sky, That the fiiint coming breeze will be fair for our
flight. And shall steal us away, ere the falling of night. Dear Douglas ! thou knowest, with thee by my side, With thy friendship to soothe me, thy courage to
guide. There is not a bleak isle in those summerless seas. Where the day comes in darkness, or shines but to
freeze, Not a tract of the line, not a barbarous shore. That I could not with patience, with pleasure ex- plore ! Oh think then how gladly I follow thee now. When Hope smooths the billowy path of our prow. And each prosperous sigh of the west-springing wind * [shrin'd ;
Takes me nearer the home where my heart is in- Where the smile of a father shall meet me again. And the tears of a mother turn bliss into pain ; Where the kind voice of sisters shall steal to my
heart, And ask it, in sighs, how we ever could part ? —
•
But see ! — the bent top-sails are ready to swell — To the boat — I am with thee — Columbia, fare- well ! VOL. II. 8
SATIKICAL PIECES
PREFACE
TO SATIRICAL PIECES, ETC
The three satirical Poems with which this Vol- ume commences, were published originally without the author's name ; " Corruption " and " Intolerance " in the year 1808, and " The Sceptic" in the year following. The political opinions adopted in the tirst of these Satires -^ the Poem on Corruption — were chiefly caught up, as is intimated in the original Preface, from the writings of Bolingbroke, Sir Wil- liam Wyndham, and other statesmen of that factious period, when the same sort of alhance took place be- tween Toryism and what is now called Radicalism, which is always likely to ensue on the ejection of the Tory party Irom power.* In this somewhat rash effusion, it wilt be seen that neither of the two great English parties is handled with much respect ; and I remember being taken to task, by ojie of the few of my Whig acquaintances that ever looked into the
* Bolingbroke himself acknowledges that " both parties were become factions, in the strict sense of the word."
118 PREFACE TO
poem, for the following allusion to the silencing effects of official station on certain orators : —
As bees, on flowers alighting, cease their hum, So, settling upon places, Whigs grow dumb.
But these attempts of mine in the stately, Juvena- lian style of satire, met with but little success, — never having attained, I believe, even the honours of a second edition ; and I found that lighter form of weapon, to which I afterwards betook myself, not only more easy to wield, but, from its very lightness, perhaps, more sure to reach its mark.
It would almost seem, too, as if the same unem- bittered spirit, the same freedom from all real mal- ice with wliich, in most instances, this sort of squib- warfare has been waged by me, was felt, in some degree, even by those who were themselves the ob- jects of it ; — so generously forgiving have I, in most instances, found them. Even the high Personage against whom the earliest and perhaps most success- ful of my lighter missiles were launched, could refer to and quote them, as I learn from an incident men- tioned in the Life of Sir "Walter Scott,* with a degree of good-humour and playfulness which was credita- ble alike to his temper and good sense. At a mem- orable dinner given by the Regent to Sir AValter in the year 1815, Scott, among other stories with which his royal host was much amused, told of a sentence passed by an old friend of his, the Lord Justice
* Vol. iii. p. 342.
SATIRICAL PIECES. 119
Clerk Braxfield, attended by circumstances in which the cruelty of this waggish judge was even more conspicuous than his humour. " The Regent laughed heartily," says the biographer, " at this specimen of Braxfield's brutal humour ; and ' I' faith, Walter,' said he, ' this old big-wig seems to have taken things as coolly as my tyrannical self. Don't you remem- ber Tom Moore's description of me at breakfast ? —
' The table spread wifh tea and toast, Death-warrants, and the Morning Post.' "
In reference to this, and other less exalted in- stances, of the good-humoured spirit in which my " in- nocui sales " have in general been taken, I shall ven- ture to cite here a few flattering sentences which, coming as they did from a political adversary and a stranger, touched me far more by their generosity than even by their praise. In speaking of the pen- sion which had just been conferred upon me, and expressing, in warm terms, his approval of the grant, the editor of a leading Tory journal * thus liberally expresses himself: "We know that some will blame us for our prejudice — if it be prejudice, in favour of Mr. Moore ; but we cannot help it. As he tells us himself,
' Wit a diamond brings That cuts its bright Tivay through'
the most obdurate poHtical antipathies. . . . We do not beheve that any one was ever hurt by libels
* The Standard, August 24, 1835.
120 PREFACE TO
SO witty as those of Mr. Moore : — great privilege of wit, wliich renders it impossible even for those whose enemies wits are, to hate them ! "
To return to the period of the Regency : — In the numerous attacks from the government press, which my volleys of small shot against the Court used to draw down upon me, it was constantly alleged, as an aggravation of my misdeeds, that I had been indebted to the Royal personage thus assailed by me for many kind and substantial services. Luckily, the list of the benefits showered upon me from that high quarter may be despatched in a few sentences. At the request of Lord Moii-a, one of my earliest and best friends, his Royal Highness graciously per- mitted me to dedicate to him my Translation of the Odes of Anacreon. I was twice, I think, admitted to the honour of dining at Carlton House ; and when the Prince, on his being made Regent in 1811, gave his memorable fete, I was one of the crowd — about 1,500, I believe, in number — who enjoyed the priv- ilege of being his guests on the occasion.
There occurs some allusions, indeed, in the Two- penny Post Bag, to the absurd taste displayed in the ornaments of the Royal supper table at that fete ; *
* The same fauteuils and girandoles — The same gold asses, pretty souls, That, in this rich and classic dome, Appear so perfectly at home ; The same bright river, 'moni; the dishes, But not — ah! not the same dear fishes.
SATIRICAL PIECES. 121
and this violation — for such, to a certain extent, I allow it to have been — of the reverence due to the rites of the Hospitable Jove,* which, whether admin- istered by prince or peasant, ought to be sacred from such exposure, I am by no means disposed to defend. But, whatever may be thought of the taste or pru- dence of some of these satires, there exists no longer, I apprehend, much difference of opinion respecting the character of the Royal personage against whom they were aimed. Already, indeed, has the stern verdict which the voice of History cannot but pro- nounce upon him, been in some degree anticipated,! a sketch of the domestic events of his reign, supposed to have proceeded from the pen of one who was him- self an actor in some of its most painful scenes, and
Late hours and claret kill'd the old ones; —
So, stead of silver and of gold ones,
(It being rather hard to raise ^
Fish of that specie now-a-days)
Some sprats have been, by Yarmouth's wish.
Promoted into silver fish.
And gudgeons (so Vansittart told
The Regent) are as good as gold.
Twopenny Post Bug, p. 206.
♦ Ante fores stabat Jovis Hospitis ara. Ovid.
t Edinburgh Review, No. cxxxv., George the Fourth and Queen Caroline. — "When the Prince entered upon public life he was found to have exhausted the resources of a career of pleasure; to have gained followers without making friends; to have acquired much envy and some admiration among the un- thinking multitude of polished society; but not to command in
any quarter either respect or esteem The portrait
which we have painted of him is undoubtedly one of the darkest shade, and most repulsive form."
122 PREFACE TO
who, from his professional position, commanded a near insight into the character of that exaUod indi- Aidual, botli as husband and father. To the samo high authority I must refer for an account of tlie mysterious " Book," * to which allusion is more than once made in the following pages.
One of the first and most successful of the nu- merous trifles I wrote at that period, was the Par- ody on the Regent's celebrated Letter, announcing to the world that he " had no predilections," etc. This very opportune squib was, at first, circulated privately ; my friend, Mr. Perry, having for some time hesitated to publish it. lie got some copies of it, however, printed off for me, which I sent round to several members of the Whig party ; and having to meet a number of them at dinner immediately after, found it no easy matter to keep my counte- nance while they were discussing among them the merits of the Parody. One of the party, I recollect, having quoted to me the following description of the state of both King and Regent, at that moment, —
" A straight waistcoat on htm, and restrictions on 7ne, A more limited monarchy could not well be,"
grew rather provoked with me for not enjoying the fun of the parody as much as himself.
* " There is no doubt whatever that The Book, written by Mr. Perceval, and privately printed at his house, under Lord Eldon's su[)crintendcnce and his own, was prepared in concert with the King, and was intended to sound the alarm against Carlton House and the Whigs." — Ed. Jieview, ib.
SATIRICAL PIECES. 123
"While thus the excitement of party feeling lent to the ix)litical trifles contained in this volume a relish and pungency not their own, an effect has been at- tributed to two squibs, wholly unconnected with poli- tics— the Letters from the Dowager Countess of Cork, and from Messrs. Lackington and Co. — of which I myself had not the slightest notion till I found it thus alluded to in Mr. Lockhart's Life of Sir Walter Scott. Li speaking of the causes which were supposed to have contributed to the compai-- ative failure of the Poem of " Rokeby," the biogra- pher says, " It is fair to add that, among the London circles, at least, some sarcastic flings, in Mr. Moore's Twopenny Post Bag, must have had an unfavour- able influence on this occasion." *
* " See, for instance," says Mr. Lockhart, " the Epistle of Lady Cork; or that of Messrs. Lackington, booksellers, to one of their dandy authors : —
' Should you feel any touch o{ poetical glow, We've a scheme to suggest: — Mr. Scott, you must know, (Who, we 're sorry to say it, now works for the Row,)^ Having quitted the Borders, to seek new renown, Is coming, by long Quarto stages, to Town; And beginning with Rokeby, (the job 's sure to pay,) Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way. Now, the scheme is (though none of our hackneys can beat him) To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet him; Who, by means of quick proofs — no revises — long coaches — May do a few villas, before Scott approaches. Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby, He '11 reach, without found'ring, at least Wobum Abbey.' "
1 Paternoster Row.
124 PREFACE TO
Among the translations that have appeared on the Continent, of the greater part of my poetical works, there has been no attempt, as far as I can learn, to give a version of any of my satirical writ- ings,— with the single exception of a squib con- tained in this volume, entitled " Little Man and Little Soul," * of which there is a translation into German verse, by the late distinguished oriental scholar, Pi'ofessor von Bohlen.f Though unskilled, myself, in German, I can yet perceive — sufficiently to marvel at it — the dexterity and ease with which the Old Ballad metre of the original is adopted and managed in the translation. As this trifle may be considered curious, not only in itself, but still more as connected with so learned a name, I shall here present it to my readers, premising that the same eminent Professor has left a version also of one of my very early facetiae, " The Rabbinical Origin of Woman."
"there "WAS A LITTLE MAX."
( Translated by Professor von Bohlen.)
Es war ein kleiner JIanii Und der hatt'n kleinen Geist tjnd er spracli : klcincr Geist sehn wir zu, zu, zu, Ob uns miiglich wohl wirJ seyn So ein kleines Redelein
* Alluding to a speech delivered in the year 1813 by the Right Hon. Charles Abbot (then Speaker) against Mr. Grattau's motion for a Committee on tlie Claims of the Catholics.
t Author of " The Ancient Indian."
SATIRICAL PIECES. 125
Das -n-ir halten, kleiner ich iind kleiner du, du, du, Das wir halten, kleiner ich und kleiner du.
Und der kleine Geist, der brach
Aus dem Loche nun und sprach : Ich behaupte, kleiner Mann, du bist keck, keck, keck,
>;inim nicht iibel meine Zweifel,
Aber sage mir, zum Teufel, Hat die kleine kleine Red' einen zweck, zweck, zweck.
Hat die kleine kleine Red' einen zweck ?
Der kleine Mann darauf
Bliess die Backen miichtig auf, Und er sprach: kleiner Geist sey gescheut, scheut, scheut;
Kleiner ich und kleiner du
Sind berufen ja dazu Zu verdammen und bekehren alle Lent', Leut', Leut',
Zu verdammen und bekehren alle Leut'.
Und sie fingen beide an
Der kleine Geist und kleine Mann, Paukten ab ihre Rede so klein, klein, klein:
Und die ganze Welt fiir wahr
Meint, das aufgeblas'ne Paar Musst ein -winziges PfiifTelein nur seyn, seyn, seyn,
Musst ein winziges Pfaffeleln, nur seyn.
Having thus brought together, as well from the records of others, as from my own recollection, whatever incidental lights could be thrown from those sources, on some of the satirical effusions contained in these pages, I shall now reserve all such reminiscences and notices as relate to the Irish Melodies, for our next volume.
It is right my readers should here be apprised, that the plan of classing my poetical works accord- ing to the order of their first publication, is pursued no further than the Second Volume of this CoUec-
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PREFACE.
'\:i.
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The practice which has been lately introduced into literature, of writing very long notes upon very indifferent verses, appears to me rather a happy invention ; as it supplies us with a mode of turning dull poetry to account; and as horses too heavy for the saddle may yet serve well enough to draw lumber, so Poems of this kind make excellent beasts of burden, and will bear notes, though they may not bear reading. Besides, the comments in such cases are so little under the necessity of paying any servile deference to the text, that they may even adopt that Socratic dogma, " Quod supra nos nihil ad nos."
In the first of the two following Poems, I have ventured to speak of the Revolution of 1688, in language which has sometimes been employed by Tory writers, and which is therefore neither very new nor popular. But however an Englishman might be reproached with ingratitude for depreciat- ing the merits and results of a measure, which he is tau";ht to regard as the source of his liberties —
VOL. II. 9
\
m''*"'w
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* -H^'^
rMr9
126 PREFACE TO SATIRICAL PIECES.
tion ; * and that, therefore, the arrangement of the contents of the succeeding Vohimes, tliougli not, in a general way, departing much from this rule, is not to be depended upon as observing it.
* [The author's last edition of his works was published in ten volumes.]
CORRITTION A:^D I^TOLERA^TE.
TWO POEMS.
ADDRESSED TO AX EXGLISHMAX BY AX IRISHMAN.
PREFACE.
The practice which has been lately introduced into literature, of writing very long notes upon very indifferent verses, appears to me rather a happy invention ; as it supplies us with a mode of turning dull poetry to account; and as horses too heavy for the saddle may yet serve well enough to draw lumber, so Poems of this kind make excellent beasts of burden, and will bear notes, though they may not bear reading. Besides, the comments in such cases are so little under the necessity of paying any servile deference to the text, that they may even adopt that Socratic dogma, " Quod supra nos nihil ad nos."
In the first of the two following Poems, I have ventured to speak of the Revolution of 1688, in language which has sometimes been employed by Tory writers, and which is therefore neither very new nor popular. But however an Englishman might be reproached with ingratitude for depreciat- ing the merits and results of a measure, which he is taught to regai'd as the source of his liberties —
VOL. II. 9
130 CORRUPTION, AND INTOLERANCE.
however ungrateful it might appear in Alderman B — reh to question for a moment the purity of that glorious era, to which he is indebted for the season- ing of so many orations — yet an Irishman, who has none of these obligations to acknowledge ; to whose country the Revolution brought nothing but injury and insult, and who recollects that the book of Moly- neux was burned, by order of AVilliam's Whig Par- liament, for daring to extend to unfortunate Ireland those principles on which the Revolution was pro- fessedly founded — an Irishman may he allowed to criticize freely the measures of that period, without exposing himself either to the imputation of ingrati- tude, or to the suspicion of being influenced by any Popish remains of Jacobitism. No nation, it is true, was ever blessed Avith a more golden opportunity of establishing and securing its liberties for ever than the conjuncture of Eighty-eiglit jire- sented to the people of Great Britain. But the disgraceful reigns of Charles and James had weak- ened and deirraded the national character. The bold notions of popular right, which liad arisen out of the struggles between Charles the First and his Par- liament, were gradually sujiplanted by those slavish doctrines for which Lord Ilawkesbury eulogizes the churchmen of that period ; and as the Reformation had happened too soon for the purity of religion, so the Revolution came too late for the spirit of liberty. Its advantages accordingly were for the most part specious and transitory, while the evils
PREFACE. 131
■which it entailed are still felt and still increasing. By rendering unnecessary the frequent exercise of Prerogative, — that unwieldly power which cannot move a step without alarm, — it diminished the only interference of the Crown, which is singly and independently exposed before the people, and whose abuses therefore are obvious to their senses and capacities. Like the myrtle over a celebrated statue in Minerva's temple at Athens, it skilfully veiled from the public eye the only obtrusive feature of royalty. At the same time, however, that the Eevo- lution abridged this unpopular attribute, it amply compensated by the substitution of a new power, as much more potent in its effect as it is more secret in its operations. In the disposal of an immense revenue and the extensive patronage annexed to it, the first foundations of this power of the Crown were laid ; the innovation of a standing army at once increased and strengthened it, and the few shght barriers which the Act of Settlement opposed to its progress have all been gradually removed during the whiggish reigns that succeeded ; till at length this spirit of in- fluence has become the vital principle pf the state, — an agency, subtle and unseen, which pervades every part of the Constitution, lurks under all its forms and regulates all its movements, and, like the in\-is- ible sylph or grace which presides over the motions of beauty,
"lllam, qnicquid agit, quoquo vestigia flectit, Componit furtim subsequiturqne."
132 CORRUPTIOX, AND INTOLERANCE.
The cause of Liberty and the Revolution are so ha1)itually associated in the minds of Englishmen, that probably in objecting to the latter I may be thought hostile or indifl'erent to the former. But assuredly nothing could be more unjust than such a suspicion. The very oljject, indeed, which my humble animadversions would attain is, that in the crisis to which I think England is now hastening, and between which and foreign subjugation she may soon be compelled to choose, the errors and omis- sions of 1688 should be remedied ; and, as it was then her fate to experience a Revolution without Reform, so she may now endeavour to accomplish a Reform without Revolution.
In speaking of the parties which have so, long agitated England, it will be observed that I lean as little to the Whigs as to their adversaries. Both factions have been equally cruel to Ireland, and perhaps equally insincere in their efforts for the lib- erties of England. There is one name, indeed, con- nected with whiggism, of which I can never think but with veneration and tenderness. As justly, how- ever, might the light of the sun be claimed by any particular nation, as the sanction of that name be monopolized by any party whatsoever. Mr. Fox belonged to mankind, and they have lost in him their ablest friend.
With respect to the few lines upon Intolerance, which I have subjoined, thoy are but the imperfect beginning of a long series of Essays, with which I
PREFACE. 133
here menace my readers, upon the same important subject. I shall look to no higher merit in the task, than that of giving a new form to claims and re- monstrances, Avliich have often been much more eloquently urged, and which would long ere now have produced their effect, but that the minds of some of our statesmen, like the pupil of the human eye, contract themselves the more, the stronger hght there is shed upon them.
CORRUPTIOX.
AX EPISTLE.
Svv 6' uTravd' uanep e^ ayopac EKTiCTtpaTai ravra' av-eiaTjKTOi 6e aviL TOVTuv, v<f uv anoku'M km vevoarjKev ij 'EZ/lof. Tavra <5' ean rt; l^rj'^Mg, ec rii ei?irj(t>e rr ye/Mg av 6fio?j)-y7i' avyyvufiT] TOiQ e/xyxo^ei'Oig- /iiaoc, av -ovroig Tig e~iTifia- tojJxi -avra, baa EK Tov dupodoKeiv rjprTj'ai.
DsMOSTH. Philipp. iii.
Boast on, my friend — though stript of all beside, Thy struggling nation still retains her pride : * That pride, which once in genuine glory woke "When Mtirlborough fought, and brilliant St. John
spoke ; 'That pride which still, by time and shame unstung, OutUves even Whitelocke's sword and Hawkesb'ry's
tongue ! Boast on, my friend, while in this humbled isle f Where Honour mourns and Freedom fears to smile,
* Angli suos ac sua omnia impense mirantur ; creteras nationes despectui habent. — Barclay (as quoted in one of Dryden's prefaces).
t England began very early to feel the effects of cruelty towards her dependencies. "The severity of her government (says Macpherson) contributed more to deprive her of the con- tinential dominions of the family of Plantagenet than the arms of France." — See his History, vol. i.
136 CORUUPTION,
Where tlie bright light of England's fame is known But bv the shadow o'er our fortunes thrown ; Where, doom'd ourselves to nouglit but wrongs and
slights, We hoar you boast of Britain's glorious rights, As wretched slaves, that under hatches lie. Hear those on deck extol the sun and sky ! Boast on, while wandering through my native haunts, I coldly listen to thy patriot vaunts ; And feel, though close our wedded countries twine, More sorrow for my own than pride from thine.
Yet pause a moment — and if truths severe Can find an inlet to that courtly ear, Wiiich hears no news but AVard's gazetted lies, And loves no politics in rhyme but Pye's, ^ — If aught can please thee but the good old saws Of '• Church and State," and " William's matchless
laws," And " Acts and Rights of glorious Eighty-eight," — Tilings, which though now a century out of date, Still serve to ballast, with convenient words, A few crank ai'guments for speeching lords, — Turn, while I tell how England's freedom found, AVhere most she look'd for life, her deadliest wound; How brave she struggled, wliile her foe was seen, How faint since Influence lent that foe a screen ; How sti-ong o'er James and Popeiy she prevail'd. How weakly fell, when Whigs and gold assail'd.
A POETIC EPISTLE. 137
While kings were poor, and all those schemes unknown Which drain the people, to enrich the throne ; Ere yet a yielding Commons had supplied Those chains of gold by which themselves are tied ; Then proud Prerogative, untaught to creep With bribery's silent foot on freedom's sleep, Frankly avow'd his bold enslaving plan, And claim'd a right frona God to trample man ! But Luther's schism had too much rous'd mankind For Hampden's truths to linger long behind ; Nor then, when king-like popes had fallen so low, Could pope-like kings escape the levelling blow. That ponderous sceptre (in whose place we bow To the light talisman of influence now), Too gross, too visible, to work the spell "\Miich modern jjower performs, in fragments fell : In fragments lay, till, patch'd and painted o'er With fleurs-de-lys, it shone and scourged once more.
'Twas then, my friend, thy kneeling nation quaflTd Long, long and deep, the churchman's opiate draught Of passive, prone obedience — then took flight All sense of man's true dignity and right ; And Britons slept so sluggish in their chain, That Freedom's watch-voice call'd almost in vain. Oh England ! England ! what a chance was thine. When the last tyrant of that ill-starr'd line Fled from his sullied crown, and left thee free To found thy own eternal liberty !
138 CORRUPTION,
How nobly liigl;, in tliat propitious hour,
Might jtatriot hands have rais'd the triple tower
Of British t'reedoin, on a rock divine
Which neither force could storm nor treachery mine !
But no — the luminous, the lofty plan,
Like mighty Babel, seem'd too bold for man ;
The curse of jarring tongues again was given
To thwart a work which raised men nearer heaven.
While Tories marr'd what Whigs had scarce begun,
While Whigs undid what Whigs themselves had
done. The hour was lost, and William, with a smile. Saw Freedom weeping o'er the unfinish'd pile !
Hence all the ills you suffer, — hence remain Such galling fragments of that feudal chain, Whose links, around you by the Norman flung. Though loosed and broke so often, still have clung. Hence sly Prerogative, like Jove of old. Has turn'd his thunder into showers of gold. Whose silent courtship wins securer joys,* Taints by degrees, and ruins without noise. While parliaments, no more those sacred things Which make and rule the destiny of kings, Like loaded dice by ministers are thi'own. And each new set of sharpers cog their own.
* fore enim tutum iter et patens
Converso in pretium Deo. Aurum per medics ire satellites, etc.
Jlorat.
A POETIC EPISTLE. 139
Hence the rich oil, that from the Treasury steals, Drips smooth o'er all the Constitution's wheels. Giving the old machine such pliant play. That Court and Conunons jog one joltless way, While Wisdom trembles for the crazy car, So gilt, so rotten, carrying fools so far ; And the duped people, hourly doom'd to pay The sums that bribe their liberties away, — Like a young eagle, avIio has lent his plume To Hedge the shaft by which he meets his doom, — See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart Which rank corruption, destines for their heart! But soft ! methinks I hear thee proudly say, " What ! shall I listen to the impious lay, " That dares, with Tory license, to profane " The bright bequests of William's glorious reign ? " Shall the great wisdom of our patriot sires, " Whom Hawkesbury quotes and savoury Birch ad- mires, " Be slander'd thus ? shall honest Steele agree " With virtuous Rose to call us pure and free, " Yet fail to prove it ? Shall our patent pair " Of wise state-poets waste their words in air, "And Pye unheeded breathe' his prosperous strain, " And Canning take the people's sense in vain ? "
The people I — ah, that Freedom's form should stay Where Freedom's spirit long hath pass'd away !
140 CORRUPTION,
That a fal.^c smile should play around the dead, And Husii the features when the soul hath lied ! When Rome had lost her virtue with her rights, When her foul tyrant sat on Caprece's heights * Amid his ruffian spies, and doom'd to death Eaeh noble name they blasted with their breath, — Even then, (in mockery of that golden time, When the Republic rose revered, sublime, And her proud sons, diffused from zone to zone. Gave kings to every nation but their own,) Even then the senate and the tribunes stood, Insulting marks, to show how high the flood Of Freedom flow'd, in glory's by-gone day, And how it ebb'd, — forever ebb'd away !
Look but around — though yet a tyrant's sword Nor haunts our sleep nor glitters o'er our board, Though blood be better drawn, by modern quacks. With Treasury leeches than with sword or axe ; Yet say, could even a prostrate tribune's power, Or a mock senate, in Rome's servile hour. Insult so much the claims, the rights of man. As doth that fetter'd mob, that free divan,
Tutor haberi
rrincipis, Augusta Caprearum in rupe sedentis Cum grcge Chaldajo. Juvenal. Sat. x. v. 92.
The senate still continued, during the reign of Tiberius, to man- age all the business of the public ; the money was then and long after coined by their authority, and every other public aflair received their sanction.
A POETIC EPISTLE. 141
Of noble tools and honourable knaves, Of jaension'd patriots and privileged slaves ; — That party-colour'd mass, which nought can -warm But rank corruption's heat — whose quicken'd swarm Spread their light Avings in Bribery's golden sky, Buzz for a period, lay their eggs, and die ; — That greedy vampire, which from Freedom's tomb Comes forth, with all the mimicry of bloom Upon its lifeless cheek, and sucks and drains A people's blood to feed its putrid veins !
Thou start'st, my friend, at picture drawn so dark — " Is there no light ? " thou ask'st — " no lingering
spark " Of ancient fire to warm us ? Lives there none, " To act a Marvell's part ? " * — alas ! not one. To place and power all public spirit tends, In place and power all public spirit ends ; f
* Andrew Marvell, the honest opposer of the court during the reign of Charles the Second, and the last member of parliament who, according to the ancient mode, took wages from his con- stituents. The Commons have, since then, much changed their pay-masters. — See the State Poems for some rude but spirited effusions of Andrew Marvell.
t The following artless speech of Sir Francis Winnington, in the reign of Charles the Second, will amuse those who are fully aware-of the perfection we have since attained in that system of government whose humble beginnings so much astonished the worthy baronet. "I did observe (says he) that all those who had pensions, and most of those who had' offices, voted all of a side, as they were directed by some gi-eat officer, exactly as if their business in this House had been to preserve their pensions and offices, and not to make laws for the good of them who sent
142 CORRUPTION,
Like liardj plants, that love the air and sky, "When out, 'twill thrive — but taken in, 'twill die!
Not bolder truths of sacred Freedom hung From Sidney's pen or burn'd on Fox's tongue, Than upstart Whigs produce each market-night, Wiiile yet their conscience, as their purse, is light ; While debts at home excite their care for those AVhich, dire to tell, their much lov'd country owes, And loud and upright, till their prize be known, They Jhwart the King's supplies to raise their own. But bees, on flowei's alighting, cease their hum — So, settling upon places, Whigs grow dumb. And, though most base is he who, 'neath the shade Of Freedom's ensign plies corruption's trade. And makes the sacred flag he dares to show His passport to the market of her foe. Yet, yet, I own, so venerably dear Are Freedom's grave old anthems to my ear, That I enjoy them, though by traitors sung. And reverence Scripture even from Satan's tongue. Nay, when the constitution has expired, I'll have such men, like Irish wakers, hired To chant old •' Habeas Corpus " by its side. And ask, in purchas'd ditties, why it died ?
See yon smooth lord, whom nature's plastic pains Would seem to've foshion'd for those Eastern reigns
'o'
tbom here." — He alludes to that Parliament which was called, par excellence, the Pensionary Parliament.
A POETIC EPISTLE. 143
"When ennuclis flourish'd, and sucli nerveless things
As men rejected were the chosen of kings ; —
Even he, forsooth, (oh fraud, of all the worst !)
Dared to assume the patriot's name at first —
Thus Pitt began, and thus begin his apes ;
Thus devils, when^rs^ raised, take pleasing shapes.
But ohj poor Ireland ! if revenge be sweet
For centuries of wrong, for dark deceit
And withering insult — for the Union throAvn
Into thy bitter cup,* when that alone
Of slavery's draught was wanting — if for this
Revenge be sweet, thou Jiast that daemon's bliss ;
For sure, 'tis more than hell's revenge to see
That England trusts the men who've ruin'd thee; —
That, in these awful days, when every hour
Creates some new or blasts some ancient poAver,
When proud Napoleon, like th' enchanted shield f
Whose light compell'd each wondering foe to yield,
With baleful lustre blinds the brave and free,
And dazzles Europe into slavery, —
* " And in the cup an Union shall be thrown."
Ilamht. t The magician's shield in Ariosto: —
E tolto per vertii dello splendore La libertate a loro. Cant. 2.
We are told that Cresar's code of morality was contained in the following lines of Euripides, which that great man frequently- repeated : —
Ymep yap admew xpv Tvpavvi6og Tvept Ka?MaTov adiKEiv T'a?i?M d'evaejSav xp^^^'"- This is also, as it appears, the moral code of Napoleon.
144 CORRUPTION, A POETIC EPISTLE.
Tliat, in this hour, Avhen patriot zeal should cuide, "Wlic'U Mind should rule, and — Fox should nut have All that devoted England can oppose [died,
To enemies made fiends and friends made foes, Is the rank refuse, the despised remains Of that unpitying power, whose whips and chains Drove Ireland first to turn, with harlot glance, Tow'rds other shores, and woo th' embrace of
France ; — Those hack'd and tainted tools, so foully fit For the grand ai'tisan of mischief, Pitt, So useless ever but in vile employ, So weak to save, so vigorous to destroy — Such are the men that guard thy threaten'd shore, Oh England ! sinking England ! * boast no more.
* The following prophetic remarks occur in a letter written by Sir Robert Talbot, who attended the Duke of Beilford to Paris in 17G2. Talking of states which have grown powerful in commerce, he says, " According to the nature and common course of things, there is a confederacy against them, and con- sequently in the same proportion as they increase in riches, they approach to destruction. The address of our King William, in making all Europe take the alarm at France, has brought that country before us near that inevitable period. We must nec- essarily have our turn, and Great Britain will attain it as soon as France shall have a declaimer with organs as proper for that
political purpose as were those of our William the Third
Without doubt, my Lord, Great Britain must lower her flight. Europe will remind us of the balance of commerce, as she has reminded France of the balance of power. The address of'our statesmen will immortalize them by contriving for us a descent which shall not be a fall, by making us rather resemble Holland than Carthage and Venice." — Letters on the French Nation,
INTOLERANCE.
A SATIRE.
" This clamour, which pretends to be raised for the safety of religion, has almost worn out the very appearance of it, and rendered us not only the most diyided but the most immoral people upon the face of the earth."
Addison, Freeholder, No. 37.
Start not, my friend, nor think the Muse will stain Her classic fingers with the dust profane Of Bulls, Decrees, and all those thundering scrolls, Which took such freedom once witS royal souls. When heaven was yet the pope's exclusive trade, And kings were damned as fast as now they 're made. No, no — let Duigenan search the papal chair * For fragrant treasures long forgotten there ; And, as the witch of sunless Lapland thinks That little swarthy gnomes delight in stinks, Let sallow Perceval snuff up the gale Which wizard Duigenan's gather'd sweets exhale. Enough for me, whose heart has leam'd to scom Bigots alike in Rome or England born,
* The " Sella Stercoraria" of the popes. — The Eight Hon-* curable and learned Doctor will find an engravhig of this chair in Spanheim's " Disquisitio Historica de Papa Foemina" (p. 118); and I recommend it as a model for the fashion of that seat •which the Doctor is about to take in the privy-council of Ireland.
VOL. U. 10
14G INTOLERANCE,
Who loathe the venom, whencesoe'er it springs, From ])opes or lawyers, pastry-cooks or kings, — Enough for me to laugh and weep by turns, As mirth provokes, or indignation burns, As Canning vapours, or as France succeeds, As Hawkesb'ry proses, or as Ireland bleeds !
And thou, my friend, if, in these headlong days, When bigot Zeal her drunken antics plays So near a precipice, that men the while Look breathless on and shudder while they smile — If, in such fearful days, thou 'It dare to look To hapless Ireland, to this rankling nook AVhich Heaven Jiath freed from poisonous things in
Aain, While Gilford's tongue and Musgrave's pen re- main — If thou hast yet no golden blinkers got To shade thine eyes from this devoted spot. Whose wrongs, though blazon'd o'er the world they
be, Placemen alone are privileged not to see — Oh ! turn awliile, and, though the shamrock wreathes My homely liarp, yet shall the song it bi-eathes Of Ireland's slavery, and of Ireland's woes, Live, when the memory of her tyrant foes Shall l)ut exist, all future knaves to warn, Embalm'd in hate and canonized by scorn. When Castlereagh, in sleep still more profound Than his own opiate tongue now deals around.
A SATIRE. 147
Shall wait tli' impeachment of that awful day Which even his practiced hand can't bribe away.
Yes, my dear friend, wert thou but near me now, To see how Spring lights up on Erin's brow Smiles that shine out, unconquerably fail-, Even though the blood-marks left by Camden*
there, — Could'st thou but see what verdure paints the sod Wliich none but tyrants and their slaves have trod. And didst thou know the spirit, kind and brave, That warms the soul of each insulted slave. Who, tired with struggling, sinks beneath his lot, And seems by all but watchful France forgot f — Thy heart would burn — yes, even thy Pittite heart Would burn, to think that such a blooming part Of tlie world's garden, rich in nature's charms, And fiU'd with social souls and vigorous arms,
* Not the Camden who speaks thus of Ireland: — " To wind up all, whether we regard the fruitfulness of the soil, tlie advantage of the sea, with so many commodious havens, or the natives themselves, who are warlike, ingenious, handsome, and well-complexioned, soft-skinned, and verj- nimble, by reason of the pliantness of their muscles, this Island is in many respects so happy, that Giraldus might very well say, ' Nature had re- garded with more favourable eyes than ordinary this Kingdom of Zephyr.' "
t The example of toleration, which Bonaparte has held forth, will, I fear, produce no other effect than that of determining the British government to persist, from the very spirit of opposition, in their own old system of intolerance and injustice; just as the Siamese blacken their teeth, "because," as they say, " the devil has white ones."
148 INTOLEUAN-CK,
Should be the victim of that canting crow,
So smooth, so godly, — yet so devilish too;
Who, arin'd at once with prayerbooks and with
whips, Blood on their hands, and Scripture on their lips, Tyrants by creed, and torturers by text, Make this life hell, in lionour of the next ! Your Redesdales, Percevals, — great, glorious
Heaven, If I'm presumptuous, be my tongue forgiven, When here I swear, by my soul's hope of rest, I 'd rather have been born, ere man was blest With the pure dawn of Revelation's light, Yes, — rather plunge me back in Pagan night And take my chance with Socrates for bliss, Than be the Christian of a faith like this. Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly sway, And in a convert mourns to lose a prey ; Which, grasping human hearts with double hold, — Like Daniie's lover mixing god and gold, — Corrupts both state and church, and makes an oath The knave and atheist's passport into both ; Wliich, Avhile it dooms dissenting souls to know Nor bliss above nor liberty below, Adds the slave's suffering to the sinner's fear. And, lest he 'scape hereafter, racks him here ! But no — far other faith, far milder beams Of heavenly justice warm the Christian's dreams ; His creed is writ on Mercy's page above, By the pure hands of all-atoning Love ;
A SATIRE. 149
He weeps to see abused Religion twine Round Tyranny's coarse brow her Avreath divine ; And he, while round him sects and nations raise To the one God their varying notes of praise, Blesses each voice, whate'er its tone may be, That serves to swell the general harmony.*
Such was the spirit, gently, gi-andly bright, That fill'd, oh Fox ! thy peaceful soul with light ; While free and spacious as that ambient air Which folds our planet in its circling care, The mighty sphere of thy transparent mind Embraced the world, and breathed for all mankind. Last of the great, farewell! — yet not the last — Though Britain's sunshine hour with thee be past, lerne still one ray of glory gives. And feels but half thy loss while Grattan lives.
* " La tolerance est la chose du monde la plus propre a rarae- ner le siecle d'or, et a faire ua concert et uoe barinonie de plu- sieurs voix et instruments de diflf^rens tons et notes, aussi agre- able pour le moins que I'uniformite d'une seule voix." Bavle, Commentaire Philosophique, etc. part ii. chap. vi.
THE SCEPTIC,
A PHILOSOPHICAL SATIRE.
^0/j.ov TvavTuv i3aai?.Ea.
PiSDAR. ap. Herodot. lib. iii.
PREFACE.
The Sceptical Philosophy of the Ancients has been no less misrepresented than the Epicurean. Pyrrho may perhaps have carried it to rather an irrational excess; — but we must not believe, with Beattie, all the absurdities imputed to this philoso- pher ; and it appears to me that the doctrines of the school, as explained by Sextus Empiricus,* are far more suited to the wants and infirmities of human reason, as well as more conducive to the mild virtues of humility and patience, than any of those systems of philosophy which preceded the introduction of Christianity. The Sceptics may be said to have held a middle path between the Dogmatists and Academicians ; the former of whom boasted that they had attained the truth, while the latter denied that any attainable truth existed. The Sceptics, however, without either asserting or denying its existence, professed to be modestly and anxiously in search of it ; or, as St. Augustine expresses it, in his liberal tract against the Manichseans, "nemo nos-
* Pyrrh. Hj^joth. — The reader may find a tolerably clear ab- stract of this work of Sextus Empiricus in La Yerite des Sci- ences, by Mercenne, liv. i. chap. ii. etc.
154 THE SCEPTIC.
trum dicat jam se invcnisse veritatem ; sic earn quierainus quasi ab^ iit risque ncsciatur." * From this habit of impartial investigation, and the neces- sity whicli it inqjosed upon them, of studying not only every system of philosophy, but every art and science, which professed to lay its basis in truth, they necessarily took a wider range of erudition, and were far more travelled in the regions of phi- losophy than those whom conviction or bigotry had domesticated in any particular system. It inquired all the learning of dogmatism to overtlu'ow the dog- matism of learning ; and the Sceptics may be said to resemble, in this respect, that ancient incendiary, who stole from the altar the fire with which he destroyed the temple. This advantage over all the other sects is allowed to them even by Lipsius, whose treatise on the miracles of the Virgo Hallen- sis will sufficiently save him from all suspicion of scepticism. "Lahore, ingenio, memoria," he says, " supra omnes pene philosophos fursse. — Quid nonne Omnia aliorum secta tenere debuerunt et inquirere, si poterunt refellere? res dicit. Nonne orationes ▼arias, raras, subtiles inveniri ad tarn receptas, claras, certas (ut videbatur) sententias everten- das ? " etc. etct — Manuduct. ad Pht'losoph. Stoic. Dissert. 4.
* Lil). contra Epist. ^lanicliwi quara vocant Fundamenti, Op. Paris, torn. vi.
t See ihirtiii. Schoockius de Scepticismo, -who endeavours, — -vveukly, I think, — to refute tliis opinion of Lipsius.
PREFACE. 155
Between the scepticism of the ancients and the moderns the great difference is, that the former doubted for the purpose of investigating, as may be exemphfied by the third book of Aristotle's Meta- physics * while the latter investigate for the purpose of doubting, as may be seen through most of the philosophical works of Hume.f Indeed, the Pyr- rhonism of latter days is not only more subtle than that of antiquity, but, it must be confessed, more dangerous in its tendency. The happiness of a Christian depends so essentially upon his belief, that it is but natural he should feel alarm at the progress of doubt, lest it should steal by degrees into that re- gion from which he is most interested in excluding it, and poison at last the very spring of his consolation and hope. Still, however, the abuses of doubting ought not to deter a philosophical mind from indulg- ing mildly and rationally in its use; and there is nothing, surely, more consistent with the meek spirit of Christianity, than that humble scepticism which professes not to extend its distrust beyond the circle c^f human pursuits, and the pretensions of human knowl- edge. A follower of this school may be among the readiest to admit the claims of a superintending
* Ban f5e tome v-opTjaat (ioiQ.oiievoig Trpovpyov to 6ia~opi]aai Kalug. — Meiaplnjs. lib. iii. cap. 1.
t Neither Hume, however, nor Berkelej', are to be judged by the misrepresentations of Beattle, whose book, however amiably intended, puts forth a most unphilosophical appeal to popular feelings and prejudices, and is a continued petitio prindpii throughout.
156 THE SCEPTIC.
Intelligence upon his fuitli and adoration : it is only to the wisdom of this weak world that he refuses, or at least delays, his assent ; — it is only in passing through the shadow of earth that his mind under- goes the eclipse of scepticism. No follower of Pyrrho has ever spoken more strongly against the dogmatists than St. Paul himself, in the First Ei)istle to the Corinthians ; and there are passages in Ecclesiastes and other parts of Scripture, which justify our utmost diffidence in all that human reason originates. Even the Sceptics of antiquity refrained carefully from the mysteries of theology, and, in entering the temples of religion, laid aside their philosophy at the porch. Sextus Empiricus thus declares the acquiescence of his sect in the general belief of a divine and fore- knowing Power: — YJo ftev ^loj }tuTuy.o).ov{^ovrres ado^aaroig cpa^isv eivai -O^sovg x«( GeO^ofiev {^eovg xai \ nQovoEiv avtovg cpan^v* In short, it appears to me, \ that this rational and well-regulated scepticism is .the only daughter of the Schools that can safely be selected as a handmaid for Piety. He who distrusts the light of reason, will be the first to follow a more luminous guide ; and if, with an ardent love for truth, he has sought her in vain through the ways of this life, he w^ll but turn with the more hojie to that better world, where all is sim[)le, true, and everlast- ing: for, there is no parallax at the zenith; — it is only near our troubled horizon that objects de- ceive us into vague and erroneous calculations.
o
» Lib. iii. cap. 1.
THE SCEPTIC.
As the gay tint that decks the vernal rose,
Not in the flower, but in our vision glows ;
As the ripe flavour of Falernian tides,
Not in the wine, but in our taste resides ;
So when, with heartfelt tribute, we declare
That Marco's honest and that Susan's fair,
'Tis in our minds, and not in Susan's eyes
Or Marco's life, the worth or beauty lies :
For she, in flat-nosed China, would appear
As plain a thing as Lady Anne is here ;
And one light joke at rich Loretto's dome
Would rank good Marco with the damn'd at Rome.
There's no deformity so vile, so base. That 't is not somewhere thought a charm, a grace ; No foul reproach, that may not steal a beam From other suns, to bleach it to esteem. Ask, who is wise? — you'll find the self-same man A sage in France, a madman in Japan ; And liere some head beneath a mitre swells, "Which there had tingled to a cap and bells : Nay, there may yet some monstrous region be. Unknown to Cook, and from Napoleon free,
158 THE SCEPTIC,
Where Castleveagh would for a patriot [)as5, And mouthing Musgrave scarce be deeni'd an ass !
" List not to reason (Epicurus cries), " But trust the senses, there conviction lies : " — * Alas ! they judge not by a purer light, Nor keep their fountains more untinged and bright ;
* This was the creed also of those modern Epicureans, -whom Ninon de I'Enclos collected around her in the Rue des Tournelles, and whose object seems to have been to decry the faculty of reason, as tending only to embarrass our wholesome use of pleas- ures, without enabling us, in any degree, to avoid their abuse. JIadam des Houli6res, the fair pupil of Des Barreaux in the arts of poetry and gallantry, has devoted most of her verses to this laudable purpose, and is even such a determined foe to reason, that, in one of her pastorals, she congratulates her sheep on the want of it. St. Evremont speaks thus upon the subject: —
" Un mdiange incertain d'esprit et de maticre Nous fait vivre avec trop ou trop peu de lumiire.
Nature, eI6ve-nous u la clartd des anges,
Ou nous abaissc au sens des simples aiiimaux."
Which may be thus paraphrased : —
Had man been made, at nature's birth,
Of only flame or only earth.
Had he been fonn'd a perfect whole
Of purely ihai^ or grossly this, Then sense would ne'er have clouded soul.
Nor soul restrain'd the sense's bliss. Oh happy, had his light been strong.
Or had he never shared a light, Which shines enough to show he's wrong,
But not enourfi to lead him right.
A SATIRE. 159
Habit so mars them, that the Russian swain Will sigh for train-oil, while he sips Champagne ; And health so rules them, that a fever's heat "Would make even Sheridan think water sweet.
Just as the mind the erring sense believes, The erring mind, in turn, the sense deceives ; And cold disgust can find but wrinkles there, Where passion fancies all that's smooth and fair. P * * * *, who sees, upon his pillow laid, A face for which ten thousand pounds were paid, Can tell, how quick before a jury flies The spell that mock'd the warm seducer's eyes.
Self is the medium through which Judgment's ray Can seldom pass without being turn'd astray. The smith of Ephesus * thought Dian's shrine, By which his craft most throve, the most divine ; And ev'n the'true faith seems not half so true, When link'd with one good living as with Uvo. Had Woleot first been pension'd by the throne, Kings would have sufFer'd by his praise alone ; And Paine perhaps, for something snug per ann., Had laugh'd, like Wellesley, at all Rights of Man.
But 'tis not only individual minds, — Whole nations, too, the same delusion blinds.
* Acts, chap. xix. " For a certain man named Demetrius, a silversmith, which made silver shrines for Diana, brought no small gain unto the craftsmen."
160 THE SCEPTIC,
Thus England, liot from Denmark's smoking meads, Turns u[) her eyes at Gallia's guilty deeds ; Thus, self-pleas'd still, the same dishonouring chain She binds in Ireland, she would break in Spain ; While prais'd at distance, but at home forbid, Rebels in Cork are patriots at Madrid.
If Grotius be thy guide, shut, shut the book, — In force alone for Laws of Nations look. Let shipless Danes and whining yankees dwell On naval rights, with Grotius and Vattel, While Gobbet's pirate code alone appears Sound moi-al sense to England and Algiers.
Woe to the Sceptic, in these party days, Who wafts to neither shrine his puffs of praise ! For him no pension pours its annual fruits, No fertile sinecure spontaneous shoots ; Not his the meed that crown'd Don Ilookham's
rhyme. Nor sees he e'er, in dreams of future time, Those shadowy forms of sleek reversions rise, So dear to Scotchmen's second-sighted eyes. Yet who, that looks to History's damning leaf. Whore AVhig and Tory, thief opposed to thief, On either side in lofty shame are seen,* While Freedom's form hangs crucified between —
*" Those two thieves," says Kalph, "between whom the nation is crucified." — Use and Abuse of Parliaments.
A SATIRE. 161
Who, Burdett, -who such rival rogues can see, But flies from both to Honesty and thee ?
If, weary of the world's bewildering maze, Hopeless of finding, through its weedy ways, One flower of truth, the busy crowd we shun, And to the shades of tranquil learning run, How many a doubt pursues ! how oft we sigh. When histories charm, to think that histories he ! ! That aU are grave romances, at the best, And Musgrave's * but more clumsy than the rest. By Tory Hume's seductive page beguiled, We fancy Charles was just and Strafford mild ; And Fox himself, with party pencil, draws Monmouth a hero, "for the good old cause ! " Then, rights are wrongs, and victories are defeats, As French or English pride the tale repeats ; And, when they tell Corunna's story o'er. They'll disagree in all, but honouring Moore : Nay, future pens, to flatter future courts, May cite perhaps the Park-gun's gay reports. To prove that England triumph'd on the morn Which found her Junot's jest and Europe's scora.
* This historian of the Irish rebellions has outrun even his predecessor in the same task, Sir John Temple, for whose char- acter -vrith respect to veracity the reader may consult Carte's Collection of Ormond's Original Papers, p. 207. See also Dr. Nalson's account of him, in the introduction to the second vol- ume of his Historic. Collect.
VOL. II. 11
162 THE SCEPTIC,
In science, too — how many a system, raised Like Neva's icy domes, awliile hatli blazed With lights of fancy and with forms of pride, Tlien, melting, mingled with the oblivious tide ! Noio Earth usurps the centre of the sky, Noio Xewton puts the paltry planet by ; Noiv whims revive beneath Descartes' * pen, Which noio, assail'd by Locke's, expire again. And when, perhaps, in pride of chemic powers. We think tlie keys of Nature's kingdom ours. Some Davy's magic touch the dream unsettles, And turns at once our alkalis to metals. Or, should we roam, in metapliysic maze, Through fair-built theories of former days. Some Drumraond f from the north, more ably skill'd. Like other Goths, to ruin than to build. Tramples triumphant through our fanes o'erthrown. Nor leaves one grace, one glory of his own.
Oh Learning, whatsoe'er thy pomp and boast, t^iletter'd minds have taught and charm'd men
most. The rude, unread Columbus was our guide To worlds, which learn'd Lactantius had denied ;
* Descartes, who is considered as the parent of modern scep- ticism, says, that there is iiotliiiig in tlie whole range of jjliiloso- phy wliich does not admit of two opposite opinions, and which is not involved in doubt and uncertainty.
t See this gentleman's Academic Questions.
A SATIRE. 163
And one Avikl Shakspeare, following Nature's lights, Is worth whole planets, fill'd with Stagyrites.
See grave Theology, when once she strays From Revelation's path, what tricks she plays ; "What various heav'ns, — all fit for bards to sing, — Have churchmen dream'd, from Papias* down to
Kinglt While hell itself, in India nought but smoke, | In Spain's a furnace, and in France — a joke.
Hail, modest Ignorance, thou goal and prize, Thou last, best knowledge of the simply wise ! Hail, humble Doubt, when error's waves are past, How sweet to reach thy shelter'd port § at last, And, there, by changing skies nor lured nor awed, Smile at the battling winds that roar abroad.
* Papias lived about the time of the apostles, and is supposp.d to have given birth to the heresy of the Chiliastfe, whose heaven ■was by no means of a spiritual nature, but rather an anticipation of the Prophet of Hera's elysium. See Eusebius, Hist. Ecelesiast. lib. iii. cap. 33, and Hieronym. de Scriptor. Ecelesiast. — From all I can find in these authors concerning Papias, it seems hardly fair to impute to him those gross imaginations in which the believers of the sensual millennium indulged.
t King, iu his ^lorsels of Criticism, vol. i., supposes the sun to be the receptacle of blessed spirits.
t The Indians call hell " the House of smoke." See Picart upon the Religion of the Banians.
§ " Ch6re Sceptique, douce pature de mon ame, et I'unique port de salut a un esprit qui aime le repos!" — La Mothe le Vaycr.
1G4 THE SCEPTIC, A SATIRE.
Tliere gontlc C'liurity, who knows liow frail The bark of Virtue, even in summer's gale, Sits by the nightly fire, whose beacon glows , For all who wander, whether friends or foes. There Faith retires, and keeps her white sail furl'd. Till call'd to spread it for a better world ; While Patience, watching on the weedy shore, And, mutely waiting till the storm be o'er, Oft turns to Hope, who still directs her eye . To some blue spot, just breaking in the sky !
Such are the mild, the blest associates given To him who doubts, — and trusts in nought but Heaven !
TWOPENNY POST-BAG.
BY
THOMAS BEOWN, THE YOUNGER.
Elapsas manibus secidere tabellae. Ovid.
DEDICATION.
TO
STEPHEN WOOLKICHE, ESQ.
My dear Wooleiche,
It is now about seven years since I promised (and I grieve to think it is almost as long since we met) to dedicate to you the very first Book, of whatever size or kind, I should publish. Who could have thought that so many years would elapse, without my giving the least signs of life upon the subject of this important jiromise ? Who could have imagined that a volume of doggei-el, after all, would be the first offering that Gratitude would lay upon the shrine of Friendship ?
If you continue, however, to be as much interested about me and my pursuits as formerly, you will be happy to hear that doggerel is not my only occupa- tion ; but that I am preparing to throw my name to the Swans of the Temple of Immortality,* leaving it, of course, to the said Swans to determine, whether
* Ariosto, canto 35.
1G8 DEDICATIOX.
they ever will take tlic trouble of picking it from the stream.
Ill tlie mean time, ray dear "Woolriche, like an orthodox Lutheran, you must judge of me rather by my faith than my tvorks ; and, however trifling the tribute Avhifh I here offer, never doubt the lidelity with which I am, and always shall be, Your sincere and
attached friend,
THE AUTHOR. March i, 1813.
PREFACE.
The Bag, from which the following Letters are selected, was dropped by a Twopenny Postman about two months since, and picked up by an emis- sary of the Society for the Suppression of Vice, who, supposing it might materially assist the private re- searches of that Institution, immediately took it to his employers, and was rewarded handsomely for his trouble. Such a treasury of secrets was worth a whole host of informers ; and, accordingly, like the Cupids of the poet (if I may use so profane a simile) who " fell at odds about the sweet-bag of a bee," * those venerable Suppressors almost fought with each other for the honour and delight of first ransacking the Post-Bag. Unluckily, however, it turned out, upon examination, that the discoveries of profligacy which it enabled them to make, lay chiefly in those upper regions of society, which their Avell-bred regula- tions forbid them to molest or meddle with. — In con- sequence, they gained but very few victims by their prize, and, after lying for a week or two under ]Mi\ Hatchard's counter, the Bag, with its violated con- tents, was sold for a trifle to a friend of mine.
* Hen-ick.
170 TWOPENNY POST-BAG.
It happened tliat I had been just then seized with an ambition (having never tried the strengtli of my wing but in a Newspaper) to publish sometiiing or other in the shape of a Book ; and it occurred to me that, the present being such a letter-writing era, a few of these Twopenny-Post Epistles, turned into easy verse, would be as light and popular a task as I could jiossibly select for a commencement. I did not, however, think it prudent to give too many Letters at fii-st, and, accordingly, have been obliged (in order to eke out a sufficient number of pages) to reprint some of those trifles, which had already ap- peared in the public journals. As in the battles of ancient times, the shades of the departed were some- times seen among the combatants, so I thought I might manage to remedy the thinness of my ranks, by conjuring up a few dead and forgotten ephcm- erons to fill them.
Such are the motives and accidents that led to the present publication ; and as this is the first time my Muse has ever ventured out of the go-cart of a Newspaper, though I feel all a parent's delight at seeing little Miss go alone, I am also not without a parent's anxiety, lest an unlucky fall should be the consequence of the experiment; and I need not point out how many living instances might be found, of Muses that have suffered very severely in their heads, from taking rather too early and rashly to their feet. Besides, a Book is so very different a thing from a Newspaper ! — in the former, your dog-
PREFACE. 171
gerel, without either company or shelter, must stand shivering in the middle of a bleak page by itself; whereas, in the latter, it is comfortably backed by advertisements, and has sometimes even a Speech of Mr. Stephen's or something equally warm, for a chanffe-jyied — so that, in general, the very reverse of "laudatur et alget" is its destiny.
Ambition, however, must run some risks, and I shall be very well satisfied if the reception of these few Letters should have the eifect of sending me to the Post-Bag for more.
PREFACE
TO THE FOURTEENTH EDITION.
BY A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR.
Ix the absence of Mr. Brown, who is at present
on a tour through , I feel myself called upon,
as his friend, to notice certain misconceptions and misrepresentations, to which this little volume of Trifles has given rise.
In tlie first place, it is not true that Mr. Brown has had any accomplices in the work. A note, indeed, which has hitherto accompanied his Preface, may very naturally have been the origin of such a suppo- sition ; but that note, which was merely the coquetry of an author, I have, in the present edition, taken upon myself to remove, and Mr. Brown must there- fore be considered (like the mother of that unique production, the Centaur, [tovu y.ai novov*) as alone responsible for the whole contents of the volume.
* Pindar, Pyth. 2. — My friend certainly cannot add ovt' ev avdpaai yepaa(j)opov.
PREFACE TO FOURTEENTH EDITION. 173
In the next place it has been said, that in conse- quence of this graceless little book, a certain distin- guished Personage prevailed upon another distin- guished Personage to withdraw from the author that notice and kindness with which he had so long and so liberally honoured him. In this story there is not one syllable of truth. For the magnanimity of the former of these persons I would, indeed, in no case answer too rashly : but of the conduct of the latter towards my friend, I have a proud gratification in declaring, that it has never ceased to be such as he must remember with indelible gratitude ; — a grati- tude the more cheerfully and warmly paid, from its not being a debt incurred solely on his own account, but for kindness shared with those nearest and dear- est to him.
To the charge of being an Irishman, poor Mr. Brown pleads guilty ; and I believe it must also be acknowledged that he comes of a Roman Catholic family : an avowal which I am aware is decisive of his utter reprobation, in the eyes of those exclusive patentee? of Christianity, so worthy to have been the followers of a certain enlightened Bishop, Donatus,* who held " that God is in Africa and not elsewhere." But from all this it does not necessarily follow that Mr. Brown is a Papist ; and, indeed, I have the strongest reasons for suspecting that they, who say
* Bishop of Casje Nigrse, in the fourth centur\\
174 TWOPENNY POST-BAG.
SO, are somewhat mistaken. Not that I presume to have ascertanied his oiiinions upon such subjects. All I profess to know of his orthodoxy is, that he has a Protestant wife and two or three little Prot- estant children, and that he has been seen at cluirch every Sunday, for a whole year together, listening to the sermons of his truly reverend and amiable
friend, Dr. , and behaving there as well and
as orderly as most people.
There are yet a few other mistakes and falsehoods about Mr. Brown, to which I had intended, Avitli all becoming gravity, to advert; but I begin to think the task is quite as useless as it is tiresome. Misrepre- sentations and calumnies of this sort are, like the arguments and statements of Dr. Duigenan, — not at all the less vivacious or less serviceable to their fab- ricators, for having been refuted and disproved a thousand times over. They are brought forward again, as good as new, whenever malice or stupidity may be in want of them ; and are quite as useful as the old broken lantern, in Fielding's Amelia, which the watchman always keeps ready by him, to pro- duce, in proof of riotous conduct, against his victims. I shall therefore give up the fruitless toil of vindica- tion, and would even draw my pen over what I have already written, iiad I not promised to furnish my publisher with a Preface, and know not how else I could contrive to eke it out.
I have added two or three more trifles to this edi-
PREFACE TO FOURTEENTH EDITIOX. 175
tion, which I found in the Morning Chronicle, and knew to be from the pen of my friend. The rest of the vohime remains * in its original state. A^il 20, 1814.
* A new reading has been suggested in the original of the Ode of Horace, freely translated by Lord Eldon, page 189. In the line "Sive per SjTteis iter restuosas," it is proposed, bj- a very trifling alteration, to read " Surtees," instead of " Syrteis," which brings the Ode, it is said, more home to the noble translator, and gives a peculiar force and aptness to the epithet " rcstuosas." I raerelj'' throw out this emendation for the learned, being unable myself to decide upon its merits.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS, ETC.
LETTER I.
FBOM THE PKINCESS CHARLOTTE OF WALES TO THE LADT BARBARA ASHLEY.*
My dear Lady Bab, you '11 be shock'd, I 'm afraid. When you hear the sad rumpus your Ponies have
made ; Since the time of horse-consuls (now long out of
date), No naers ever made such a stir in the state. Lord Eldon first heard — and as instantly pray'd he To " God and his King " — that a popish young lady (For though you 've bright eyes and twelve thousand
a year, It is still but too true you're a Papist, my dear,) Had insidiously sent, by a tall Irish groom. Two priest-ridden ponies, just landed from Rome, And so full, little rogues, of pontifical tricks. That the dome of St. Paul's was scarce safe from
their kicks.
* This young lady, -who is a Eoman Catholic, had lately made a present of some beautiful Ponies to the Princess. VOL. II. 12
178 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
Off at once to Papa, in a flurry he flies — For Papa always does wliat these statesmen advise, On condition tliat they'll be, in turn, so polite As in no case whate'er to advise him too right — " Pretty doings are here. Sir (he angrily cries, While by dint of dark eyebrows he strives to look
wise) — " 'Tis a scheme of the Romanists, so help me God ! " To ride over your viost Royal Highness rough- shod— "Excuse, Sir, my tears — they're from loyalty's
source — " Bad enough 'twas for Troy to be sack'd by a Horse, " But for us to be ruin'd by Ponies still worse ! " Quick a Council is call'd — the whole Cabinet sits — The Archbishops declare, frighten'd out of their wits, That if once Popish Ponies should eat at my manger, From that awful moment the Church is in danger ! As, give them but stabling, and shortly no stalls Will suit their proud stomachs but those at St. Paul's.
The Doctor,* and he, the devout man of Leather,! Vansittart, now laying their Saint-heads together, Declare that these skittish young o-bominations Are clearly foretold in Chap. vi. Revelations — Nay, they verily think they could point out the one Which the Doctoi*'s friend Death was to canter upon.
* Mr. Addington, so nicknamed.
t Alluding to a tax lately laid upiMi leather.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 179
Lord Harrowby, hoping that no one imputes To the Court any fancy to persecute brutes, Protests, on the word of himself and his cronies. That had these said creatures been Asses, not Ponies, The Court would have started no sort of objection, As Asses were, there, always sure of protection.
" If the Princess will keep them (says Lord Cas-
tlereagh), " To make them quite harmless, the only true way " Is (as certain Chief Justices do with their wives) " To floe: them within half an inch of their lives. " If they 've any bad Irish blood lurking about, " This (he knew by experience) would soon draw it
out." Should this be thought cruel, his Loixlship proposes " The new Veto snaffle * to bind down their noses — " A pretty conti'ivance, made out of old chains, " Which appears to indulge, while it doubly restrains ; " Which, however high-mettled, their gamesomeness
checks " (Adds his Lordship humanely), or else breaks their
necks 1 "
This proposal receiv'd pretty general applause From the Statesmen around — and the neck-breaking clause
* The question whether a Veto was to be allowed to the Crown in the appointment of Irish Catholic Bishops w;xs, at this time, very generally and actively agitated.
180 IXTERCKPTKD LETTERS.
Had a vigour about it, which soon reconcil'd Even Pvklon liiraself to a measure so mild. So the snuffles, my dear, were agreed to nem. con., And my Lord Castlereagh, having so often shone In i\iQ fettering line, is to buckle them on.
I shall drive to your door in these Vetos some day, But, at present, adieu ! — I must hurry away To go see my Mamiun, as I 'in suffer'd to meet her For just half an hour by the Queen's best repeater.
Charlotte.
LETTER II.
FROM COLONEL M'MAHON TO GOULD FRANCIS LKCKIE, ESQ.
Dear Sir, I've just had time to look Into your very learned Book,* Wherein — as plain as man can speak, "Whose English is half modern Greek — You prove that we can ne'er intrench Our happy isles against the French, Till Royalty in England's made A much more independent tnule ; — In short, until the House of Guelph Lays Lords and Commons on the shelf. And boldly sets up for itself.
* For au account of this extraordinary work of Mr. Leckie Bee tlie Edinburgh Review, vol. xx.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 181
All, that can well be understood In this said Book, is vastly good ; And, as to what's incomprehensible, I dai*e be sworn 't is full as sensible.
But, to your Avork's immortal credit, The Pi-ince, good Sir, the Prince has read it (The only Book, himself remarks. Which he has read since Mrs. Clarke's). Last levee-morn he look'd it through, During that awful hour or two Of grave tonsorial preparation. Which, to a fond, admiring nation. Sends forth, announc'd by trump and drum, The best-wigg'd Prince in Christendom.
He thinks with you, th' imagination 0? partnersltip in legislation Could only enter in the noddles Of dull and ledger-keeping twaddles, Whose heads on Jirms are running so, They ev'n must have a King and Co., And hence, most eloquently show forth On checks and balances, and so forth. K
But now, he trusts, we 're coming near a v Far more royal, loyal era ; When England's monarch need but say, " Whip me those scoundrels, Castlereagh ! " Or, " Hang me up those Papists, Eldon," And 'twill be done — ay, faith, and well done.
182 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
With view to which, I 've his command To beg, Sir, from your travell'd hand, (Round which the foreign graces swarm) * A Plan of radical Reform ; Compil'd and chos'n as best you can, In Turkey or at Ispahan, And quite ui)turning, branch and root, Lords, Commons, and Burdett to boot.
But, pray, whate'er you may impart, write Somewhat more brief than Major Cartwright : Else, though the Prince be long in rigging, 'T would take, at least, a fortniglit's wigging, — Two wigs to every paragraph — Before he well could get through half.
You '11 send it also speedily — As, truth to say, 'twixt you and me. His Highness, heated by your work, Ah'eady thinks himself Gi'and Turk ! And you'djiave laugh'd, had you seen how He scar'd the Chancellor just now, "When (on his Lordship's entering pufTd) he Sla|)p'd his back and call'd him " Mufti ! "
The tailors too have got commands, To put directly into hands
* " The truth indeed seems to be, that having lived so long abroad as evidently to have lost, in a great degree, the use of his native language, Mr. Leckie has gradually come not only to speak, but to feel, like a foreigner." — Edinbuiujh Jieview.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 183
All sorts of Dnlimans and Pouches,
With Sashes, Turbans, and Paboutches,
(While Yarmouth's sketching out a plan
Of new Moustaches a V Ottomane)
And all things fitting and expedient
To turhify our gracious regent ! |
i
You, therefore, have no time to waste — So, send your System. —
Yours, in haste.
POSTSCKIPT.
Before I send this scrawl away,
I seize a moment, just to say,
There 's some parts of the Turkish system
So vulgar, 't were as well you miss'd 'em.
For instance — in Seraglio matters —
Your Turk, Avhom girlish fondness flatters.
Would fill his Haram (tasteless fool !)
With tittering, red-cheek'd tilings from school.
But here (as in that fairy land.
Where Love and Age Avent hand in hand ; *
* The learned Colonel must allude here to a description of the Mysterious Isle, in the History of Abdalla, Son of Hanif, where such inversions of the order of nature are said to have taken place. — " A score of old women and the same number of old men played here and there in the court, some at chuck-farthing,
184 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
"Whei*e lips, till sixty, shed no honey, And Grandams were worth any money,) Our Sultan has much riper notions — So, let your list of sAe-promotions Include those only, plump and sage, Who've rcach'd the regulation-n^e ; That is, (as near as one can fix From Peerage dates,) full fifty-six.
This rule's hvfav'rites — nothing more For, as to wives, a Grand Signor, Though not decidedly wit/ioiit them. Need never care one curse about them.
LETTER III.
FROM GEORGE PRICE REGENT TO THE EARL OF YARMOUTH.*
We miss'd you last night at the " hoary old sinner's," Wlio gave us, as usual, the cream of good dinners; His soups scientific — his fishes quite prime — Ilis pates superb — and his cutlets sublime ! In short, 'twas the snug sort of dinner to stir a Stomachic orgasm in my Lord Ellenborough,
others at tip-cat or at cockles." — And again, " Tliere is nothing, believe me, more engaging tliati those lovely wrinkles," etc. etc. — See Tales of the J-Jast, vol. iii. pp. 607, 608.
* This letter, as the reader will perceive, was written the day after a dinner given by the Marquis of He.adfort.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 185
Who set to, to be sure, with miraculous force,
And exclaim' d, between mouthfuls, " a ^e-Cook, of course ! —
"While you live — (what's there under that cover ? pray,, look) —
" While you live — (I '11 just taste it) — ne'er keep a She-Cook.
"'Tis a sound Salic Law — (a small bit of that toast) —
*' Which ordams that a female shall ne'er rule the roast ;
"For Cookery's a secret — (this turtle's uncom- mon) —
" Like Masonry, never found out by a woman ! "
The dinner, you know, was in gay celebration Of my brilliant triumph and Hunt's condemnation ; A compliment, too, to his Lordship the Judge For his Speech to the Jury — and zounds! who
would grudge Turtle soup, though it came to five guineas a bowl, To reward such a loyal and complaisant soul ? We were all in high gig — Roman Punch and To- kay Travell'd round, till our heads travell'd just the same
way; And we car'd not for Juries or Libels — no — dam- me ! nor Ev'n for the threats of last Sunday's Examiner !
18G INTERCErTED LETTERS.
More good things were eaten than said — but Tom Tyrrhitt In quoting Joe Miller, you know, has some merit ; And, hearing the sturdy Justiciary Chief Say — sated with turtle — "I '11 now try the beef" — Tommy whisper'd him (giving his Lordship a sly
hit) " I fear 't will be Imng-heQ^, my Lord, if you try it ! "
And Camden was there, who, that morning, had
gone To fit his new Marquis's coronet on ; And the dish set before him — oh dish well-devLs'd ! — "Was, what old Mother Glasse calls, " a calf's head
surpris'd ! " The brains were near Sh — ry, and once had been
fine, But, of late, they had lain so long soaking in wine, That, though we, from courtesy, still chose to call These bi'ains very fine, they were no brains at all.
When the dinner was over, we drank, every one In a bumper, " The venial delights of Crim. Con. ; " At which Ileadfort Avith warm reminiscences gloated, And Ellenb'rough chuckled to hear himself quoted.
Our next round of toasts was a fancy quite new, For we drank — and you'll own 'twas benevolent too —
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 187
To those -well-meaning husbands, cits, parsons, or
peers. Whom we've, any time, honour'd by courting their
dears : This museum of wittols was comical rather; Old Headfort gave Massey, and /gave your father.
In short, not a soul till this morning would budge — TTe were all fun and frolic, — and even the Judge Laid aside, for the time, his Juridical fashion, And through the whole night wasn't once in a pas- sion !
I write this in bed, while my whiskers are airing, And Mac* has a sly dose of jalap preparing For poor Tommy T-rr-tt at breakfast to quaff — As I feel I want something? to give me a laugh, And there's nothing so good as old Tommy, kept
close To his Cornwall accounts, after taking a dose.
* Colonel M'Mahon.
188 IXTEUCEPTED LETTERS.
LETTER IV.
FROM THE KIGIIT IFON. PATKICK DUIGEXAK TO THE KIGHT HON. SIK JOHX KICHOL.
Dublin.*
Last week, dear Nichol, making merry
At dinner with our Secretary,
When all were drunk, or pretty near
(The time for doing business here),
Says he to me, " Sweet Bully Bottom !
" These Papist dogs — hiccup — 'od rot 'em ! —
" Deserve to be bespatter'd — hiccup —
" With all the dirt ev'n i/oit can pick up.
" But, as the Prince (here 's to him — fill —
" Hip, liip, hurra !) — is trying still
" To humbug them with kind professions,
" And, as i/ou deal in strong expressions —
" ' Rogue ' — ' traitor ' — hiccup — and all that —
" You must he muzzled, Doctor Pat ! —
" You must indeed — hiccup — that's flat." —
Yes — " muzzled " was the word, Sir John — These fools have clapp'd a muzzle on
* This letter, ■which contained some very heavy enclosures, seems to have been sent to London by a private hand, and then put into the Twopenny Post-Office, to save trouble. See the Appendix, p. 207.
rXTERCEPTED LETTERS. 189
The boldest mouth that e'er ran o'er
With slaver of the times of yore ! — *
Was it for this that back I went
As far as Lateran and Trent,
To prove that they, who damn'd us then,
Ought now, in turn, be damn'd again ? —
The silent victim still to sit
Of Grattan's fire and Canning's wit.
To hear ev'n noisy M — th — w gabble on,
'Nor mention once the Whore of Babylon !
Oh! 'tis too much — who now will be
The Nightman of No-Popery ?
What Courtier, Saint, or even Bishop,
Such learned filth will ever fish up ?
If there among our ranks be one
To take my place, 'tis thoic, Sir John ;
Thou, who, like me, art dubb'd Right Hon.
Like me too, art a Lawyer Civil
That wishes Papists at the devil.
To whom then but to thee, my friend, vShould Patrick f his Port-folio send ? Take it — 'tis thine — his learn'd Port-folio, With all its tlieolo";ic olio
o
* In sending this sheet to the press, however, I learn that the "muzzle" has been taken oft', and the Right Hon. Doctor again let loose I
t A bad name for poetry ; but Duigenan is still worse. — As Prudentius says upon a very different subject —
Torquetur Apollo Nomine percussus.
190 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
Of Bulls, half Irish and half Roman —
Of Doctrines, now belie v'd by no man —
Of Councils, held for men's salvation,
Yet always ending in damnation —
(Which shows that, since the world's creation,
Your Priests, whate'er their gentle shamming.
Have always had a taste for damning,)
And many more such pious scraps,
To prove (what we've long prov'd, perhaps,)
That, mad as Christians us'd to be
About the Thirteentli Century,
There still are Christians to be had
In this, the Nineteenth, just as mad ! .
Farewell — I send with this, dear Nichol, A rod or two I've had in pickle Wherewith to trim old G rattan's jacket. — The rest shall go by Monday's packet.
P. D.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 191
Among the Enclosures in the foregouig Letter was the folloTving "Unanswerable Ai'gument against the Papists."
We 're told the ancient Roman nation INlade use of spittle in lustration ; * (Vide Lactantium ap. Gallaium — f ^. e. you need not read but see 'em ;) Now, Irish Papists, fact surprising, Make use of spittle in baptizing ; Which proves them all, O'Finns, O'Fagans, Connors, and Tooles, all downright Pagans. This fact's enough ; — let no one tell us To free such sad, sallvous fellows. — No, no — the man, baptiz'd with spittle, Hath no truth in him — not a tittle !
'^' !^' yS ^n
- Lustralibus ant6 salivis
Expiat. Pers. sat. 2.
t I have taken the trouble of examining the Doctor's reference here, and find him, for once, correct. The following are the words of his indignant referee Gailajus — " Asserere non vere- mur sacrum baptismum a Papistis profanari, et sputi usum in peccatorum expiatione a Paganis non a Christiauis iiuinasse.''^
192 INTKUCErXED LETTERS.
LETTER V.
FROJI THE COUNTESS DOWAGEK OF CORK TO LADY -
My dear Lady ! I've been just sending out
About five hundred cards for a snug little Rout — ^ (By the by, you've seen Rokeby? — this moment
got mnie —
The Mail-Coach Edition * — prodigiously fine !) But I can't conceive how, in this very cold weather, I'm ever to bring my five hundred together; As, unless the thermometer's near boiling heat, One can never get half of one's hundreds to meet. (Apropos — you'd have laugh'd to see Townsend
last night. Escort to their chairs, with his staff, so polite, The " three maiden Miseries," all in a fright ; Poor Townsend, like Mercury, filling two posts, Supervisor o( thieves, and chief-usher o^ ghosts !)
But, my dear Lady , can't you hit on some
notion. At least for one night to set London in motion? — ^ As to having the liegent, that show is gone by — Besides, I 've rcmark'd that (between you and I) The Marchesa and he, inconvenient in more ways, Have taken much lately to whispering in doorways ;
* See Mr. Murray's Advertisement about the JIail-Coach copies of Rokeby.
rXTERCE?TED LETTERS. 19
o
Which — consid'ring, you know, dear, the size of the
two — Makes a block that one's company cannot get
through ; And a house such as mine is, Avith doorways so
small, [all. —
Has no room for such cumbersome love-work at (Apropos, though, of love-work — you 've heard it^
I hope. That Napoleon's old mother's to marry the Pope, — What a comical pair !) — but, to stick to my Eout, 'Twill be hard if some novelty can't be struck out. Is there no Algerine, no Kamchatkan arriv'd ? No Plenipo Pacha, three-tail'd and ten-wiv'd ? No Russian, whose dissonant consonant name Almost rattles to fragments the trumpet of fame ?
I remember the time, three or four winters back, When — provided their wigs were but decently
black — A few Patriot monsters, from Spain, were a sight That would people one's house for one, night after
night. But — whether the Ministers paw'd them too
much — (And you know how they spoil whatsoever they
touch) Or, whether Lord George (the young man about
town) Has, by dint of bad poetry, written them down, VOL. ir. 13
194 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
One has c(^rtainly lost one's Peninsular rage ; And the only stray Patriot seen for an age Has been at such places (think, how the fit cools !) As old Mrs.Vaughan's or Lord Liverpool's.
But, in short, my dear, names like Wintztschitstop-
schinzoudhofF Arc the only things now make an ev'ning go smooth
off": So, get me a Russian — till death I'm your debtor — If he brings the whole Alphabet, so much the better. And — Lord ! if he would but, in character, sup Off his fish-oil and candles, he'd quite set me up!
Au revoir, my sweet girl — I must leave you in haste — Little Gunter has brought me the Liqueurs to taste.
POSTSCRIPT.
Br the by, have you found any friend that can con- strue That Latin account, t'other day, of a Monster?* If we can't get a Russian, and that thing in Latin Be not too improper, I think I'll bring that in.
• AllndinjT, I sjipposc, to tlio Latin Advertisement of a Lusus Nature in the newsiiapers lately.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 195
LETTER VI.
FROM ABDALLAH,* IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, IN ISPAHAN.
Whilst thou, Mohassan, (happj thou !)
Dost daily bend thy loyal brow
Before our King — our Asia's treasure !
Nutmeg of Comfort ; Rose of Pleasure ! —
And bear'st as many kicks and bruises
As the said Rose and Nutmeg chooses ;
Thy head still near the bowstring's borders,
And but left on till further orders —
Through London streets, with turban fair,
And caftan, floating to the air,
I saunter on, the admiration
Of this shoi't-coated population —
This sew'd up race — this button'd nation — •
Who, while they boast their laws so free.
Leave not one limb at liberty,
But live, with all their lordly speeches,
The slaves of buttons and tight breeches.
* I have made many inquiries about this Persian gentleman, but cannot satisfactorily ascertain who he is. From his notions of Religious Liberty, however, I conclude that he is an importa- tion of Ministers; and he has arrived just in time to assist the Prince and Mr. Leckie in their new Oriental Plan of Reform. — See the second of these Letters. — How Abdallah's epistle to Ispahan found its way into the Twopenny Post-Bag is more than I can pretend to account for.
196 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
Yet, though they tlius their knee-pans fetter, (They're Christians, and they know no better) * In some things tliey're a thinking nation ; And, on llehgious Toleration, I own I like their notions quite, They are so Persian and so right ! You know our Sunnitcs,t — hateful dogs ! Whom every pious Shiite flogs, Or longs to flog J — 'tis true, they pray To (?od, but in an ill-bred way ; With neither arms, nor legs, nor faces Stuck in their right, canonic places.§ 'Tis true, they worship All's name — 1| Their heaven and ours are just the same —
* " C'est un honnete homme," said a Turkish governor of De Kuyter ; " c'est grand dommage qu'il soit Chretien."
t Sunnites and Shiiles are the two leading sects into which the Mahometan world is divided; and they have gone on cursing and persecuting each otlier, without any intermission, for about eleven hundred years. The Siinni is the established sect in Turkey, and the Shia in Persia; and the differences between them turn chiefly upon those important points, which our pious friend Abdallah, in the true spirit of Shiite Ascendency, repro- bates in this Letter.
t "Les Sunnites, qui ^toient comme les Catholiques de Mus- ulmanismc." — B'/ferbelot.
§ " In contradistinction to the Sounis, who in their prayers cross their hands on the lower part of the breast, the Schiahs drop their arms in straight lines; and as the Sounis, at certain periods of the prayer, press their foreheads on the ground or carpet, the Schiahs," etc. etc. — Forster^s Voyage.
II "Les Turcs ne detestent pas Ali reciproquement; au con- traire, lis le recouuoissent," etc. etc. — Churdin.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 197
(A Persian's Heav'n is eas'ly made,
'Tis but black eyes and lemonade.)
Yet, though we've tried for centuries. back —
"We can't persuade this stubborn pack,
By bastinadoes, screws, or nippers,
To wear th' establish'd pea-green slippers.*
Then, only think, the libertines !
They wash their toes — they comb their chins,t
With many more such deadly sins ;
And wdiat 's the worst, though last I rank it,
Believe the Chapter of the Blanket !
Yet, spite of tenets so flagitious, (TThich must, at bottom, be seditious ; Since no man living would refuse Green slippers, but from treasonous views ; Nor wash his toes, but with intent To overturn the government,) — Such is our mild and tolerant way, We only curse them twice a day (According to a Form that's set). And, for from torturing, only let All orthodox believers beat 'em. And twitch their beards, where'er they meet 'em.
* " The Shiites wear green slippers, -which the Suniiites con- sider as a great abomination." — Mariti.
t For these points of difference, as well as for the Chapter of the Blanket, I must refer the reader (not having the book by me) to Picart's Account of the Mahometan Sects.
198 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
As to the rest, they're free to do Whate'er their fancy prompts them to, Provided. they make nothing of it Tow'rds rank or honour, power or profit ; "Which things, we nat'rally expect, Belong to us, the Estabhsh'd sect, Who disbelieve (the Lord be thanked !) Th' aforesaid Chapter of the Blanket. Tiie same mild views of Toleration Inspire, I find, this button'd nation, Wiiose Pa})ists (full as giv'n to rogue, And only Sunnites with a brogue) Fare just as well, with all their fuss, As rascal Sunnites do with us.
The tender Gazel I enclose Is for my love, my Syrian Rose — Take it when night begins to fall, And throw it o'er her mother's wall.
^>
GAZEL.
Rememberest thou the hour we past, — That hour the happiest and the last ? Oh ! not so sweet the Siha thorn To summer bees, at break of morn, Not half so sweet, through dale and dell, To Camels' ears the tinkling bell,
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 199
As is the soothing memory
Of that one precious hour to me.
How can we live, so far apart ? Oh ! why not rather, heart to heart,
United live and die — Like those sweet birds, that fly together. With feather always touching feather,
Link'd by a hook and eye ! *
LETTER VII*.
FROM MESSRS. LACKINGTON AND CO. TO , ESQ.f
Per Post, Sir, we send your MS. — look'd it thro' — Very sorry — but can 't undertake — 't would n't do. Clever work. Sir! — would get up prodigiously well — Its only defect is — it never would sell. And though Statesmen may glory in being unhought, In an Author, we think. Sir, that's rather a fault.
* This will appear strange to an English reader, but it is lit- erally translated from Abdallah's Persian, and the curious bird to which he alludes is the Jaftal; of which I find the following account in Richardson: — "A sort of bird, that is said to have but one wing; on the opposite side to which the male has a hook and the female a ring, so that, when they fly, they are fastened together."
t From motives of delicacy, and, indeed, oi fellow-feeling,! suppress the name of the Author, whose rejected manuscript was inclosed in this letter. — See the Appendix, p. 209.
200 IXTEBCErTED LETTERS.
Hard times, Sir, — most books are too dear to be
read — Tliough the gold of Good-sense and Wit's small-change
are fled, Yet the jyaper we Publishers pass, in their stead, Rises liigher each day, and ('tis fi'iglitfid to think it) Not even sucli names as Fitzgerald's can sink it !
However, Sir — if you're for trying again, And at somewhat that's vendible — we are your men.
Since the Ciievalier Carr * took to marrying lately, The Trade is in want of a Traveller greatly — No job, Sir, more easy — your Country once plann'd, A month aboard ship and a fortnight on land Puts your Quarto of Ti'avels, Sir, clean out of hand.
An East-India pamphlet's a thing that would tell — And a lick at the Papists is sure to sell well. Or — supposing you've nothing original in you — Write Parodies, Sir, and such fame it will win you, You'll get to the Blue-stocking Routs of Albinialf (Mind — not to her dinners — a second-hand Muse Must n't think of aspiring to mess with the Blues.)
* Sir John Carr, the author of "Tours in Irclnml, Holland, Sweden," etc. etc.
t Tills allude?, I believe, to a curious correspondence, which is said to have passed lately between Albinia, Countess of Buck- inghamshire, and a certain ingenious Parodist.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 201
Or — in case nothing else in this world you can do — The deuce is in 't, Sir, if you cannot review !
Should you feel any touch o{ poetical glow, We've a scheme to suggest: — Mr. Scott, you must
know, (Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the
Row*) Having quitted the Borders, to seek new renown, Is coming, by long Quarto stages, to Town ; And beginning with Rokeby (the job 's sure to pay) Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way. Now, the scheme is (though none of our hackneys
can beat him) To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet him ; Who, by means of quick proofs — no revises — long
coaches — May do a few Villas, before Scott approj^ches. Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby, He'll reach, without found'ring, at least AVoburn-
Abbey. Such, Sir, is our plan — if you 're up to the freak, 'Tis a match! and we'll put you in traiyiing next
week. At present, no more — in reply to this Letter, a Line will oblige very much
Yours, et cetera.
Temple of the Muses.
* Paternoster Row.
202 IXTERCEl'TED LETTERS.
LETTER VIII.
FROM COLONEL THOMAS TO SKEFFINGTON, ESQ.
Come to our Fete *, and bring Avith thee
Thy newest, best embroidery.
Come to our Fete, and show again
That pea-green coat, thou pink of men,
Which charm'd all eyes, that last survey'd it ;
When Br — mm — I's self inquir'd " who made
it?"— When Cits came wond'ring, from the East,
And thought thee Poet Pye at least !
Oh! come, (if haply 'tis thy week For looktng pale,) with paly cheek; Though more we love thy roseate days, When the rich rouge-pot pours its blaze Full o'er thy face, and, amply spread. Tips ev'n thy whisker-tops with red — Like the last tints of dying Day That o'er some darkling grove delay.
Ering thy best lace, thou gay Philander, (That lace, like Harry Alexander,
* Tliis Letter enclosed a Card for the Grand Fete on the 5th of February.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 203
Too precious to be wasli'd,) — thy rings, Thy seals — in short, thy prettiest things ! Put all thy wardrobe's glories on. And yield in frogs and fringe, to none But the great Regent's self alone ; Who — by particular desire — For that night only, means to hire A dress from Romeo C — tes. Esquire.* Hail, first of Actors ! f best of Regents ! Born for each other's fond allegiance ! Both gay Lotharios — both good dressers — Of serious Farce both learn'd Professors — Both circled round, for use or show, With cock's combs, wheresoe'er they go ! J
Thou knows't the time, thou man of lore ! It takes to chalk a ball-room floor — Thou know'st the time, too, well-a-day ! It takes to dance that chalk away.§
•
An amateur actor of much risible renown.
Quem tu, Melpomene, semel
Nascentem placido luviine, videris, etc. Horat.
The Man, upon whom thou hast deign'd to look funny.
Oh Tragedy's Jluse! at the hour of his birth — Let them say what they will, that 's the Man for imj money, Give others thy tears, but let me have thy mirth ! J The crest of Mr. C — tes, the very amusing amateur tragedian here alluded to, was a cock; and most profusely were his liveries, harness, etc., covered with this ornament.
§ To those, who neither go to balls nor read the Morning Post, it may be necessary to mention, that the floors of Ball-rooms, in
204 INTEUCEPTED l.KTTElfS.
The Ball-room opens — fai- and ni"fh
Comets and suns beneath us lie ;
O'er snow-white moons and stars we walk,
And the floor seems one sky of chalk !
But soon shall fade that bright deceit,
"When many a maid, with busy feet
That sparkle in the lustre's ray,
O'er the white path shall bound and play
Like Nymphs along the IMilky "Way : —
With every step a star hath <led,
And suns grow dim beneath their tread !
So passeth life — (thus Scott would write,
And spinsters read him witli delight,) —
Hours are not feet, yet hours trip on,
Time is not chalk, yet time's soon gone ! *
But, hang this long digressive flight ! — I meant to say, thou 'It see, that night, "What falsehood rankles in their hearts, "Who say the Prince neglects the arts — Neglects the arts ? — no, Str — hi — g,t no ; Tlnj Cupids answer "'tis not so;"
general, are chalked, for safety and for ornament, with various fanciful devices.
Hearts are not flint, yet flints arc rent, Hearts are not steel, j'et steel is bent. After all, however, Jlr. Scott may well say to the Colonel, (and, indeed, to much better wags than the Colonel,) paov nujiuadaL
t A foreign artist much patronized by the Trince Regent.
INTERCEPTED LETTERS. 205
And every floor, that night, shall tell How quick thou daubest, and how well. Shine as thou may'st.in French vermilion, Thou 'rt best, beneath a French cotillion ; And still com'st off, whate'er thy faults, Viith. Jli/ing colours in a Waltz. Nor need'st thou mourn the transient date To thy best works assign'd by fate. While some chef-d'ffiuvres live to weary one, TMne boast a short life and a merry one ; Their hour of glory past and gone With " Molly put the kettle on ! " *
But, bless my soul ! I 've scarce a leaf Of paper left — so, must be brief.
This festive Fete, in fact, will be The former Fete's facsimile ; f The same long Masquerade of Rooms, All trick'd up in such odd costumes, (These, Porter, \ are thy glorious Avorks !) You'd swear Egyptians, Moors, and Turks, Bearing Good-Taste some deadly malice, Had clubb'd to raise a Pic-Nic Palace ;
* The name of a popular country-dance.
t " Carleton House will exhibit a complete /oc S8mi7e, in re- spect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Fete. The same splendid draperies," etc. etc. — Morning Post.
J Mr. Walsh Porter, to whose taste was left the furnishing of the rooms of Carleton House.
206 IXTERCEPTICD LETTEUS.
And each to make the olio pleasant
Had sent a State-Room as a i)resent.
The same fauteuils and girandoles —
The same gold Asses,* pretty souls !
That, in this rich and classic dome,
Api)ear so perfectly at home ;
The same bright river 'mong the dishes,
But tiot — ah ! not the same dear fislies: —
Late hours and claret kill'd the old ones —
So, 'stead of silver and of gold ones,
(It being rather hard to raise
Fish of that specie novv-a-days)
vSome sprats have been, by Yarmouth's wish,
Promoted into Silver Fish, '
And Gudgeons (so Yansittart told
The Regent) are as good as Gold/
So, prithee, come — our Fete -will be But half a Fete if wanting thee.
* Tlie salt-cellars on the Prince's own table were in the foiTa of an Ass with panniers.
APPENDIX.
LETTER IV. PAGE 188.
Amoxg the papers, enclosed in Dr. Duigenan's Letter, was found an Heroic Epistle in Latin verse, from Pope Joan to her Lover, of which, as it is rather a curious document, I shall venture to give some account. This female Pontiff was a native of England, (or, according to others, of Germany,) who, at an early age, disguised herself in male attire, and followed her lovei', a young ecclesiastic, to Athens, where she studied Avith such effect, that upon her arrival at Rome, she was thought worthy of being raised to the Pontificate. This Epistle is addressed to her Lover (whom she had elevated to the dignity of Cardinal), soon after the fatal accouchement, by which her Fallibility was betrayed.
She begins by reminding him tenderly of the time, when they were together at Athens — when, as she says.
" by Ilissus' stream
" "We whispering walk'd along, and learn'd to speak " The tenderest feelings in the purest Greek ; —
208 IXTKUCKPTICI) I.KTTKIJS.
"All, then liow little did we think or hope,
" Dearest of men, that I should e'er be Pope ! *
"That I, the humble Joan, whose house-wife art
" Seem'd just enough to keep thy house and heart,
" (And J^iose, alas, at sixes and at sevens,)
" Should soon keep all the keys of all the heavens ! "
Still less (she continues to say) could they have fore- seen, that such a catastrophe as had happened in Council would befall them — that she
" Should thus surprise the Conclave's gi-ave decorum,
" And let a little Pope pop out before 'em —
" Pope Innocent ! alas, the only one
" That name could e'er be justly fix'd upon."
She then very pathetically laments the downfall of her greatness, and enumerates the various treasures to which she is doomed to bid farewell for ever • —
" But oh, more dear, more precious ten times over — " Farewell my Lord, my Cai-dinal, my Lover ! "I made thee Cardinal — thou mad'st me — ah! "Thou mad'st the Papa of the world Mamma ! "
* Spanheim attributes tlie unanimity, with which Joan was elected, to tliat irirjate and irresistible cliarm, b}' which lier sex, tliough iutei>t, operated upon the instinct of tlie Cardinals — " Xon vi aliqua, sed coucorditer, omnium in se converso deside- rio, i\nx sunt blandientis scxus artes, latentcs in hac quan- quam! "
APPENDIX. 209
I have not time at present to ti-anslate any more of this Epistle ; but I presume the argument which the Right Hon. Doctor and his friends mean to deduce from it, is (in their usual convincing strain) that Eomanists must be unworthy of Emancipation now, because they had a Petticoat Pope in the Ninth Century. Nothing can be more logically clear, and I find that Horace had exactly the same views upon the subject : —
Homanus (elieu poster! negabitis!)
Emancipatus Fffisiix^ Fert vallum !
LETTER VII. PAGE 199.
The Manuscript, found enclosed in the Booksellers' Letter, turns out to be a Melo-Drama, in two Acts, entitled " The Book," * of which the Theatres, of course, had had the refusal, before it was presented to Messrs. Lackington and Co. This rejected Drama,
* There was, in like manner, a mysterious Book, in the 16th century, which employed all the anxious curiosity of the learned of that time. Every one spoke of it; many wrote against it; though it does not appear that anybody had ever seen it ; and Grotius is of opinion that no such Book ever existed. It was entitled " Liber de tribus impostoribus." (See Morhof. Cap. de Libris damnatis.) — Our more modern mystery of " the Book" resembles this in many particulars ; and, if the number of Law- yers employed in drawing it up be stated correctly, a slight alter- ation of the title into "a tribus impostoribus" would produce a coincidence altogether very remarkable. VOL. II. 14
210 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
however, possesses considerable merit, and I shall take the liberty of laying a sketch of it before my Readers.
Tlie first Act opens in a very awful manner — Time, three o'clock in the morning — Scene, the Bourbon Chamber* in Carleton House — Enter the Prince Regent solus — After a few broken sen- tences, he thus exclaims : —
Away — Away — Thou haunt'st my fancy so, thou devilish Book, I meet thee — trace thee, wheresoe'er I look. I see thy damned ink in Eldon's brows — I see thy foolscap on my Hertford's Spouse — Vansittart's head recalls thy leathern case. And all tliy blanic leaves stare from Rd — r — 's face ! While, turning here {hnjing his hand on his heart),
I find, ah wretched elf! Thy List of dire Errata in myself.
( Walks the stage in considerable agitation.) Oh Roman Punch ! oh i)otent Cura^oa ! Oh IMareschino ! Mareschino oh ! Delicious drams ! why have you not the art To kill this gnawing Book-ivorm in my heart ?
He is here interrupted in his Soliloquy by perceiv-
* The same chnmber, cloubtles<;, that was prepared for the reception of the Bourbons at the first Grand Fete, and which •was ornamented (all "for the Deliverance of Europe") with fieurs de lys.
APPENDIX. 211
ing on the ground some sci'ibbled fragments of paper, which he instantly collects, and " by the light of two magnificent candelabras " discovers the following un- connected words, '' IF7/e neglected" — ^Hhe Book" — " Wrong Measures " — " the Queen " — " Mt: Lam- bert " — '' the Regent."
Ha ! treason in my house ! — Curst words, that
wither My princely soul, (shaking the papers violently/,) what
Demon brought you hither ? [look —
" My Wife ; " — " the Book " too ! — stay — a nearer
(holding the fragments closer to the candelabras) Alas! too plain, B, double O, K, Book — Death and destruction !
He here rings all the bells, and a whole legion of valets enter. A scene of cursing and swearinsr (very much in the German style) ensues, in the course of which messengers are despatched, in differ- ent directions, for the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of Cumberland, etc. etc. The intermediate time is filled up by another Soliloquy, at the conclusion of which the aforesaid Personages rush on alarm'd ; the Duke with his stays only half-lac'd, and the Chancellor with his wig thrown hastily over an old red night- cap, " to maintain the becoming splendour of his office." * The Regent produces the appalling frag-
* " To enable the individual, who holds the office of Chan- cellor, to maintain it in becoming splendour." {A loud laugh) — Lord Castlereagu's Speech upon the Vice- Chancellor's Bill.
212 INTlCRCLrXED LETTERS.
ments, upon ■wiiicli the Chancellor breaks out into exclamations of loyalty and tenderness, and relates the following portentous dream : —
'Tis scarcely two hours since I had a fearful dream of thee, my Prince ! — Methought I heard thee, midst a courtly crowd, Say from thy throne of gold, in mandate loud, "Worship my whiskers!" — (weejjs) not a knee
there But bent and worshipp'd the Illustrious Pair, Which curl'd in conscious majesty ! (pulls out his
handkerchief) — while cries Of " Whiskers, whiskers ! " shook the echoing skies. — Just in that glorious hour, methought, there came, With looks of injur'd pride, a Princely Dame, And Ji young maiden, clinging by her side, As if she fear'd some tyrant would divide Two hearts that nature and affection tied ! The Matron came — within her right hand glow'd A radiant torch ; while from her left a load [veil — Of Papers hung — (wipes his eyes) collected in her The venal evidence, the slanderous tale. The wounding hint, the cun-ent lies that pass From Post to Courier, form'd the motley mass ; Which, with disdain, before the Throne she throws. And lights the Pile beneath thy princely nose.
( Weeps.) Heav'ns, how it blaz'd ! — I'd ask no livelier fire, ( With animation) To roast a Papist by, my gracious
Sii-e ! —
APPENDIX. 213
But all ! the Evidence — (weeps again) I mourn'd
to see — Cast, as it burn'd, a deadly light on thee : And Tales and Hints their random sparkles flung, And hiss'd and crackled, like an old maid's tongue ; While Post and Courier, faithful to their fame, Made up in stink for what they lack'd in flame. When lo, ye Gods ! the fii-e ascending brisker, Now singes one, now lights the other whisker. Ah ! where was then the Sylphid, tliat unfurls Her fairy standard in defence of curls ? Throne, Whiskers, Wig, soon vanish'd into smoke, The watchman cried " Past One," and — I awoke.
Here his Lordship weeps more profusely than ever, and the Regent (who has been very much agitated during the recital of the Dream) by a movement as characteristic as that of Charles XII. when lie was shot, claps his hands to his whiskers to see if all be really safe. A Privy Council is held — all the Ser- vants, etc., are examined, and it appears that a Tai- lor, who had come to measure the Regent for a Dress (which takes three whole pages of the best superfine clinquant in describing), was the only person who had been in the Bourbon Chamber during the day. It is, accordingly, determined to seize the Tailor, and the Council breaks up with a unanimous resolution to be vigorous.
The commencement of the Second Act turns chiefly upon the Trial and Imprisonment of two
214 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
Brothers * — but as this forms the under plot of the DrauiJi, I shall content myself with extracting from it the following speech, which is addressed to the two Brotliers, as they "exeunt severally" to Prison: —
Go to your prisons — though the air of Spring
No mountain coolness to your cheeks shall bring;
Though Summer flowers shall pass unseen away,
And all your portion of the glorious day
May be some solitary beam that falls,
At morn or eve, upon your dreary walls —
Some beam that enters, trembling as if aw'd,
To tell how gay the young world laughs abroad !
Yet go — for thoughts as blessed as the air
Of Si)ring or Summer flowers await you there ;
Thoughts, such as He, who feasts his courtly crew
In rich conservatories, never knew ;
Pure self-esteem — the smiles that light within —
The Zeal, whose circling charities begin
With tlie few lov'd ones Heaven has plac'd it near,
And spread, till all Mankind are in its sphere ;
The Pride, that suffers without vaunt or plea,
And the fresh Spirit, that can warble free.
Through prison-bars, its hymn to Libei'ty !
The Scene next changes to a Tailor's Work-shop, and a fancifully-arranged group of these Artists is discovered ui)Ou the Shop-board — Their task evi-
* Mr. Loi''h Hunt and his brother.
APPENDIX. 215
dently of a royal nature, from the profusion of gold- lace, frogs, etc. that he about — They all rise and come forward, while one of them sings the following Stanzas to the tune of " Derry Down."
My brave brother Tailors, come, straighten your
knees. For a moment, like gentlemen, stand up at ease, While I sing of our Prince (and a fig for his railers) The Shop-board's delight ! the Mtecenas of Tailors ! Derry down, down, down derry down.
Some monarchs take roundabout ways into note, While His short cut to fame is — the cut of his
coat; Philip's Son thought the World was too small for
his Soul, But our Regent's finds room in a lac'd button-hole.
Derry down, etc.
Look through all Europe's Kings — those, at least,
AVho go loose — Not a King of them all's such a friend to the Goose. So, God keep him increasing in size and renown. Still the fattest and best fitted Prince about town !
Derry down, etc.
During the " Derry down" of this last verse, a Mes- senger from the Secretary of State's Office rushes on, and the singer (who, luckily for the effect of the scene, is the very Tailor suspected of the mysterious
216 INTERCEPTED LETTERS.
fragments) is interrupted in tlie midst of his lauda- tory exertions, and huri-ied away, to the no small surprise and consternation of his comrades. The Plot now hastens rapidly in its development — the management of the Tailor's examination is highly skilful, and the alarm, which he is made to betray, is natural without being ludicrous. The explanation, too, which he finally gives is not more simple than satisfactory. It appears tliat the said fragments formed part of a self-exculpatory note, which he had intended to send to Colonel M'Mahon upon sub- jects purely professional, and the corresponding bits (which still lie luckily in his pocket) being produced, and skilfully laid beside the others, the following billet-doux is the satisfactory result of their juxta- position.
Honour'd Colonel — my Wife, who 's the Queen of
all slatterns, Neglected to put up the Book of new Patterns. She sent the wrong Measures too — shamefully
wrong — They're the same us'd for poor Mr. Lambert, when
young ; Bat, bless you ! they wouldn 't go half round the
Regent — .So, hope you'll excuse yours till death, most obedient.
This fully explains the whole mystery — ther Regent resumes his wonted smiles, and the Drama termi- nates as usual, to the satisfaction of all parties.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
2X0AAZ0NT0S A2X0AIA.
SATIRICAL AND HOIOROUS POEMS.
THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS.
A DEEAM.
" It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it.''— Lord Casile- EEAGH'S Speech upon Colonel ^PMahons Appointment, April 1-1, 1812.
Last night I toes'd and turn'd in bed, But could not sleep — at length I said, " I '11 think of Viscount Castlereagh, "And of his speeches — that's the way." And so it was, for instantly I slept as sound as sound could be. And then I dreamt — so dread a dream ! Fuseli has no such theme ; Lewis never wrote or borrow'd Any horror, half so horrid !
Methought the Prince, in whisker'd state, Before me at his breakfast sate ; On one side lay unread Petitions, On t'other, Hints from five Physicians ; Here tradesmen's bills, — official papers, Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours —
220 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
There, plans of saddles, loa and toast, Death-wari'ants and the Morning Post.
Wlien lo ! the Papers, one and all, As if at some magician's call, Began to flutter of themselves From desk and table, floor and shelves ; And, cutting each some different capers, Advanc'd, ol\ Jacobinic papers I As though tliey said, " Our sole design is " To suflfbcate his Royal Highness ! " The Leader of this vile sedition Was a huge Catholic Petition, With grievances so full and heavy. It tlireaten'd worst of all the bevy. Then Common-Hall Addresses came In swaggering sheets, and took tlieir aim Right at the Regent's well-dress'd liead. As if delermhiid to be read. Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly. And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high ; Nay ev'n Death-warrants thought they'd best Be lively too, and join the rest.
But, oil the basest of defections ! His Letter about " predilections " — His own dear Letter, void of grace. Now flew up in its parent's face ! Shock'd with tliis breach of filial duty, He just could murmur " et Tu Brute ? ''
SATIRICAL AND IIUMOKOUS POKMS. 221
Then sunk, subdued upon the floor At Fox's bust, to rise no more !
I wak'd — and pray'd, with lifted hand, " Oh ! never may this Dream prove true ; " Though paper overwhelms the land, " Let it not crush the Sovereign too ! "
PAEODY OF A CELEBRATED LETTER*
At length, dearest Freddy, the moment is nigh. When, with Perceval's leave, I may throw my chains
by;
And, as time now is precious, the first thing I do, Is to sit down and write a wise letter to you.
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
I meant before now to have sent you this Letter, But Yarmouth and I thought perhaps 'twould be
better To wait till the Irish affairs were decided — (That is, till both Houses had prosed and divided,
* Letter from his Eoyal Highness the Prince Regent to the Duke of Yorlv, Feb. 13, 1812.
'222 SATIKICAL AND llLMOIiOUS TOEMS.
"With all due appearance of thought and digestion) — For, thoujjh Hertford House had long settled the
question, ^
I thought it but decent, between me and jou, That the two other Houses should settle it too.
I need not remind you liow cursedly bad Our affairs were all looking, when Father went
mad ; * A strait-waistcoat on him and restrictions on me, A more limited Monarchy could not well be. I was call'd upon then, in that moment of puzzle, To choose my own Minister — just as they muzzle A playful young bear, and then mock his disaster, By bidding him choose out his own dancing-master.
I thought the best way, as a dutiful son, Was to do as Old Royalty's self would have done.f So I sent word to say, I would keep the whole batch
in. The same chest of tools, without cleansing or patch- ing; For tools of this kind, like Martinus's sconce,J Would lose all their beauty, if purified once;
* "I think it linrdly necessary to call your rpcolloction to the recent circumstances under which I assumed the authority dele- gated to me by Parliament." — Prince's Letter.
t " My sense of duty to our Eoyal father solely decided that choice." — Ibid.
t The antique shield of Martinus Scriblerus, -which, npou scouring, turned out to be only an old sconce.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 223
And think — only think — if our Father should find, Upon graciously coming again to his mind,* That improvement had spoil'd any favourite ad- viser — That Kose was grown honest, or Westmoreland
wiser — That K — d — r was, ev'n by one twinkle, the
brighter — Or Liverpool's speeches but half a pound lighter — What a shock to his old royal heart it would be ! ;No ! — far were such dreams of improvement from
me : And it pleased me to find, at the House, Avhere, you
know,t There's such good mutton cutlets, and strong cur-
a^oa,! That the Marchioness call'd me a duteous old boy. And my Yarmouth's red whiskers grew redder for
joy-
You know, my dear Freddy, how oft, if I would, By the law of last Sessions I might have done good. I might have withheld these political noodles From knocking their heads against hot Yankee Doodles ;
* " I waved any personal gratification, in order that his Maj- esty might resume, on his restoration to health, every power and prerogative," etc. — Prince's Letter,
t " And I have the satisfaction of knowing that such was the opinion of persons for whose judgment," etc. etc. — Ihid.
X The letter-writer's favourite luncheon.
224 SATIRICAL AND HU.MOROUS POEMS.
I might have told Ireland I pitied her lot,
Might have sooth'd her -with hope — but you know
I did not. And my wish is, in truth, that the best of old fellows Should not, on recovering, hav,e cause to be jealous, But find that, while he has been laid on the shelf, We 've been all of us nearly as mad as himself. You smile at my hopes — but the Doctors and I, Are the last that can think the King ever will die.*
A new era's arriv'd f — though you 'd hardly be- lieve it —
And all tilings, of course, must be new to receive it.
New villas, new fetes (which ev'n "Waithman at- tends) —
New saddles, new helmets, and — why not new friends ?
ff: yf: ^ 1^
T^ yf: 7^ ^
I repeat it, " New Friends " — for I cannot describe The delight I am in with this Perceval tribe. Such capering ! — Such vapouring ! — Such rigour !
— Such vigour ! North, South, East, and West, they have cut such a
figure,
* " I certainly am the last person in the kingdom to whom it can be permitted to despair of our royal father's recovery." — Prince's Letter.
t " A new era is now arrived, and I cannot but reflect with satisfaction," etc. — Ibid.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 225
That soon they will bring the whole world round
our ears, And leave us no friends — but Old Nick and Algiers.
"When I think of the glory they've beam'd on my
chains, 'Tis enough quite to turn my illustrious brains. It is true we are bankrupts in commerce and riches, But think how we find our Allies in new breeches ! We've lost the warm hearts of the Irish, 'tis gi-anted. But then we 've got Java, an island much wanted. To put the last lingering few who remain, Of the Walcheren warriors, out of their pain. Then how Wellington fights! and how squabbles
his brother ! For Papists the one, and loith Papists the other ; One crushing Napoleon by taking a City, While t'other lays waste a whole Cath'lic Committee. Oh deeds of renown ! — shall I boggle or flinch. With such prospects before me ? by Jove, not an inch. No — let England's aflfliirs go to rack, if they will, We'll look after th' affairs of the Continent still; And, with nothing at home but starvation and riot, Find Lisbon in bread, and keep Sicily quiet.
I am proud to declare I have no predilection?,* My heart is a siev^, where some scatter'd affections
* "I have no predilections to indulge, — no resentments to gratify." — Prince's Letlei:
VOL. n. 15
22G SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
Are jii-;t dancM about for a moment or two, And the f net- they are, the more sure to run throucrh: Neither feel I resentments, nor wish there should come ill [rael,
To mortal — except (now I think on 't) Beau Brum- Who tlireaten'd last year, in a superfine passion, To cut 7ne, and bring the old King into fashion. This is all I can lay to my conscience at present ; When such is my temper, so neutral, so pleasant, So royally free from all troublesome feelings, So little encumber'd by faith in my dealings (And that I'm consistent the world will allow, What T was at Newmarket the same I am now). When such are my merits (you know I hate cracking), I hope, like the Vender of Best Patent Blacking, " To meet with the gen'rous and kind approbation " Of a candid, enlighten'd, and liberal nation."
By the by, ere I close this magnificent Letter, (No man, except Pole, could have writ you a better,) 'T would please me if those, whom I've humbug'd
so long * With the notion (good men !) that I knew right from
wrong, Would a few of them join me — mind, only a few — To let too much light in on me never would do ;
* " I cannot conclude witliout expressinj; the gratification I should feel if some of those persons with whom the early habits of my public life were formed would stren<rthen my hands, and constitute a part of my government." — Priiue's Lttter.
SATIRICAL AND HU5I0R0US POEMS. 227
But even Grey's brightness shan't make me afraid, While I 've Camden and Eldon to fly to for shade ; Nor will Holland's clear intellect do us' much harm, While there's Westmoreland near him to weaken
the charm. As for Moira's high spirit, if aught can subdue it, Sure joining with Hertford and Yarmouth will do it ! Between R — d — r and Wharton let Sheridan sit. And the fogs will soon quench even Sheridan's wit: And against all the pure public feeling that glows Even in Whitbread himself we've a Host in George
Rose ! So, in short, if they wish to have Places, they may. And I'll thank you to tell all these matters to Grey,* Who, I doubt not, will write (as there's no time to
lose) By the twopenny post to tell Grenville the news ; And now, dearest Fred (though I've no predilection), Believe me yours always with truest atfection.
P. S. A copy of this is to Perceval going — t Good Lord, how St. Stephen's will ring Avith his crowing !
* "You nre authorized to communicate tlicse sentmients to Lord Grey, who, I have no doubt, will make them known to Lord Grenville." — Prince's Letter.
t " I shall send a copy of this letter immediately to Mr. Per- cevaL" — Prince'' s Letter.
228 SATiniCAL AXD HUMOROUS rOEMS.
ANACREONTIC TO A PLUMASSIER.
Fink and feathery artisan, Best of Pluniists (if you can With your art so far presume) Make for me a Frince's Plume — Feathers soft and feathers rare, Such as suits a Prince to wear.
First, thou downiest of men, Seek me out a fine Pea-lien ; Suclr a lien, so tall and grand. As by Juno's side might stand, If there were no cocks at hand. Seek her feathers, soft as down, Fit to shine on Prince's crown ; If thou canst not find them, stupid ! Ask the way of Prior's Cupid.*
Eamrinsr these in order due, Pluck me next an old Cuckoo ; Emblem of the happy fates Of easy, kind, cornuted mates. Pluck him well — be sure you do — Who wouldn't be an old Cuckoo, Thus to have his plumage blest, Beaming on a Royal crest ?
* See Prior's poem, entitled " The Dove."
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 229
Bravo, Plumist ! — now what bird Shall we find for Plume the third ? You must get a learned Owl, Bleakest of black-letter fowl — Bigot bird, that hates the light,* Foe to all that's fair and bright. Seize his quills, (so form'd to pen Books,t that shun the search of men ; Books, that, far from every eye. In " swelter'd venom sleeping " lie,) Stick them in between the two, Proud Pea-hen and Old Cuckoo. IVow you have the triple feather, Bind the kindred stems together With a silken tie, whose hue Once was brilliant Buff and Blue ; Sullied now — alas, how much ! Only fit for Yarmouth's touch.
There — enough — thy task is done ; Present, worth)' George's Son ; Kow, beneath, in letters neat, AVrite "I serve," and all's complete.
* Perce viil.
t In allusion to -'the Book" -wliich created such a sensation at that period.
230 SATIinCAh AND 1IUMOKOU3 POEMS.
EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A POLITICIAN.
Wednesday.
Through Manchester Square took a canter just
now — Met tlie old yclloiv chariot* and made a low bow. This I did, of course, thinking 'twas loyal and civil, But got such a look — oh 'twas black as the devil ! How unlucky ! — incog, he was trav'lling about, And I, like a noodle, must go find him out.
3Tem. — when next by the old yellow chariot I ride, To remember there is nothing princely inside.
Thursday. At Levee to-day made another sad blunder — What can be come over me lately, I wonder ? The Pi-ince was as cheerful, as if, all his life. He had never been troubled with Friends or a Wife — " Fine weather," says he — to Avhich I, who must
prate, Answered, " Yes, Sir, but changeable rather, of late." He took it, I fear, for he look'd somewhat gruff, And handled his new pair of whiskers so rough,
* The {nco(j. vehicle of the Prince.
SATIRICAL AND HLJIOItOUS POEMS. 231
That before all the courtiers I fear'd they'd come off, And then, Lord, how Geramb * would triumphantly scoff!
3Iem. — to buy for son Dicky some unguent or lotion To nourish his whiskers — sure road to promotion ! t
Saturday.
Last night a Concert — vastly gay — Given by Lady Castlereagh. My Lord loves music, and, we know, Has " two strings always to his bow.'' %
In choosing songs, the Regent nam'd ^'■Had la heart for falsehood f ram' d," — While gentle Hertford begg'd and pray'd For " Toung lam, and sore afraid."
* Earon Geramb, the rival of his R. H. in whiskers.
t England is not the only country where merit of this kind is noticed and rewarded. " 1 remember," says Tavernier, " to have seen one of the King of Pei-sia's porters, whose mustaches were so long that he could tie them behind his neck, for which reason he had a double pension."
X A rhetorical figure used by Lord Castlereagh, in one of his speeches.
232 SATIKICAL AND IIUjrOROUS POEMS.
EPIGRAM.
AViiAT news to-day ? — " Oh ! worse and worse — " Mac * is the Prince's Privy Purse ! " — The Prince's Purse ! no, no, you fool, You mean the Prince's Hidicide.
KING CRACK t AND HIS IDOLS.
WRITTEN AFTER THE LATE NEGOTIATION FOR A NEW MINISTRY.
King Crack was the best of all possible Kings, (At least, so his Courtiers would swear to you gladly,)
But Crack now and then would do het'rodox things, And, at last, took to worsliipping Images sadly.
Some broken-down Idols, that long had been plac'd In his father's old Cabinet, pleas'd him so much,
* Colonel Macmahon.
t One of those antediluvian Prince?, with whom Manetho and Whiston seem so intimately acquainted. If we had the Memoirs of Thotli, from which Manetho compiled his History, we should find, I dare say, that Crack was only a Regent, and that he, perhaps, succeeded Typhon, wlio (as Whiston says) was the last King of the Antediluvian Dynastj-.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 233
That he knelt down and worshipp'd, though — such
was his taste ! — [touch.
They w^ere monstrous to look at, and rotten to
And these were the beautiful Gods of King Crack! —
But his People, disdaining to woi-ship such things,
Cried aloud, one and all, " Come, your Godships
must pack — " You'll not do for us, though you 7na!/ do for Kings."
Then, trampling these images under their feet. They sent Crack a petition, beginning " Great CiEsar ! " "We 're willing to worship ; but only entreat
" That you '11 find us some decenter Godheads than ■ these are."
"I'll try," says King Crack — so they furnish'd him
models
Of better shap'd Gods, but he sent them all back ;
Some were chisell'd too fine, some had heads 'stead
of noddles.
In short, they were all much too godlike for Crack.
So he took to his darling old Idols again,
And, just mending their legs and new bronzing their faces. In open defiance of Gods and of man.
Set the monsters up grinning once more in their places.
234 SATIRICAL AXD HUMOROUS POEMS.
WHAT'S MY THOUGHT LHvE?
Quest. Why is a Pump like Viscount Castlereagh ?
Answ. Because it is a slender thing of wood, That up and down its awkward arm doth sway, And coolly spout and spout and spout away.
In one weak, washy, everlastuig flood !
EPIGRAir:
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A CATHOLIC DELEGATE AND HIS KOYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF CUMBERLAND.
Said his Highness to Ned,* with that grim face of his, " Why refuse us the Veto, dear Catholic Neddy ? "
" Because, Sir," said Ned, looking full in his phiz, "You're forbidding enough, in all conscience, already ! "
• Edward BjTne, the head of the Delegates of the Irish Cath- olics.
SATIRICAL AND HUilOROUS POEMS. 235
WREATHS FOR THE MINISTERS.
AN ASACREO>TlC.
Hither, Flora, Queen of Flowers ! Haste thee from Old Brompton's bowers — Or, (if sweeter that abode,) From the King's well-odour'd Road, "WTiere each little nursery bud Breathes the dust and quaffs the mud. Hither come and gaily twine Brightest herbs and flowers of thine Into wreaths for those, Avho rule us, Those, who rule and (some say) fool us — Flora, sure, will love to please England's Household Deities ! *
First you must then, willy-nilly, Fetch me many an orange hly — Orange of the darkest dye Irish Gifford can supply ; —
* The ancients, in like manner, crowned their Lares, or Household Gods. See Juvenal, Sat. 9. v. 138. — Plutarch, too, tells us that Household Gods were then, as they are now, " much given to AVar and penal Statutes."' — epuvvudec^ koi ■koivijj.ou^ daifurvaQ.
236 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS rOESIS.
Choose me out tlie ]on<re?t sprig, And stick it in old Eldon's \vi<i.
Find me next a Poppy posy, Ty])e of his harangues so dozy, Garland gaudy, dull and cool. To crown the head of Liverpool. 'T will console his brilliant brows For that loss of laurel boughs, Which they suifcr'd (what a pity !) On the road to Paris City.
Next, our Castlereagli to crown, Bring me from the County Down, Wither'd Shamrocks, which have been Gilded o'er, to hide the green — (Such as Headfort brought away From Pall-Mnll last Patrick's Day) — * Stitch the garland through and through With shabby threads of every hue ; — And as. Goddess ! — entre nous — His Lordship loves (though best of men) A little torture, now and then. Crimp Uie leaves, thou first of Syrens, Crimp them with thy curling-irons.
That's enough — away, away — Had I leisure, I could say
* Certain tinsel imitations of tlic Sliamrock which are dis- tributed by tlie Servants of Carleton House every Patrick's Day,
SATIRICAL AXU HUMOROUS POEMS. 237
How the oldest rose that grows
Must be pkick'd to deck Old Rose — ■
How the Doctor's * brow should smile
Crown'd with v.'reaths of camomile.
But time presses — to thy taste
I leave the rest, so prjthee, haste !
EPIGRAM.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A DOWAGER AND HER MAID ON THE KIGHT OF LORD YARMOUTH'S FETE.
" I WANT the Court Guide," said my lady, " to look
" If the House, Seymour Place, be at 30. or 20." — ""We've lost the Court Guide, Ma'am, but here's the Red Booh, " Where you '11 find, I dare say, Seymour Places in plenty ! "
* The sobriquet given to Lord Sidmouth.
238 SATIUIC-VL AND lir.MOUOLS I'OEMS.
V
HORACE, ODE XL LIB. IL
FREELY TUAKSLATED BY THE PKINCE KEOENT.*
t Come, Yarmouth, my^ boy, never trouble your brains,
About what your old crony,
The Emperor Boney, Is doing or brewing on Muscovy's plains ;
X Nor tremble, my lad, at the state of our granaries :
Should there come famine, ■
Still plenty to cram in [naries.
You always shall have, my dear Lord of the Stan- Brisk let us revel, while revel we may ; § For the gay bloom of fifty soon passes away,
And then people get fat.
And infirm, and — all that,
* This and the following are extracted from a Work, which may, some time or other, meet the eye of the Public — entitled " Odes of Horace, done into English by several Persons of Fashion."
Quid bcllicosus Cantaber, et Scythes, Hirpine Quincti, cogitct, Hadria Dlvisus objecto, remittas Quasrere.
Nee trepides in nsum Poscentis a;vi pauca.
Fugit retro Levis juventas et decor.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 239
* And a wig (I confess it) so clumsily sits,
That it frightens the little Loves out of their wits ;
t Thy whiskers, too, Yarmouth ! — alas, even they,
Tliough so rosy they burn,
Too quickly must turn • [to Grey.
(What a heart-breaking change for thy whiskers I)
X Then why, my Lord AYarden, oh ! why should you fidget Your mind about matters you don't understand ? Or why should you write yourself down for an idiot, Because " you," forsooth, " have the pen in your hand ! "
Think, think how much better Than scribbling a letter, (Which both you and I Should avoid by the by,) § How much pleasauter 't is to sit under the bust Of old Charley,|| my friend here, and di'ink like a new one
Pellente lascivos amores Canitie.
Neque uno Luna rubens nitet Vultu.
Quid £cternis minoreni Consiliis animum fatigas? Cur non sub alta vel platano, vel hac Pinu jacentes sic temere. Charles Fox.
240 SATIUICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
Wliile Charley looks sulky and frowns at me, just As the Ghost in the Pantomime frowns at Don Juan.
* To crown us, Lord "Warden,
In Cumberland's garden Grows plenty of monies hood in venomous sprigs :
While Otto of Roses
Refreshing all noses Shall sweetly exhale from our whiskers and wigs.
t What youth of the Household will cool our Noyau
In that streamlet delicious.
That down 'midst the dishes.
All full of gold fishes,
Romantic doth liow? — X Or who will repair
Unto Manchester Square, And see if the gentle Marchesa be there ?
Go — bid her haste hither, § And let her bring with her
Rosa Canos odomti capillos, Duni licet, Assyriaque nardo Potamus uncti.
Quis puer ocius Eestinguet ardentis Falenii Voc\x\a. prcetereunte lyiiiphaf
Quis eliciet domo
Lydcn ? ' P^burna, die age, cum lyra (qu. Uar-a)
JIaturet.
SATIRICAL AXD nUlIOROUS POEMS. 241
The newest No-Popery Sermon that's going — * Oh ! let her come, with her dark tresses flowing, All gentle and juvenile, curly and gay, In the manner of — Ackermann's Dresses for May !
HORACE, ODE XXII. LIB. I.
FREELY TRANSLATED BY LORD ELDON.
t The man who keeps a conscience pure, (If not his own, at least his Prince's,) Through toil and danger walks secure, Looks big and black, and never winces.
X No want has he of sword or dagger, Cock'd hat or ringlets of Geramb ; Though Peers may laugh, and Papists swagger, He doesn't care one single damn.
Wliether midst Irish chairmen going, Or through St. Giles's alleys dim,
Incomtam LactenEe More comam religata uodo. Integer vitte scelerisque purus. Non eget JIauri jaculis, neque arcu, Nee venenatis gravida sagittis,
Fusee, pharetra. Sive per Syrtes iter sestuosas, Sive facturus per inhospitalem Caucasum, vel qua3 loca fabiilosus- Lambit Hydaspes.
The Noble Translator had, at first, laid the scene of these im- VOL. n. 16
242 SATIUICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
'Mid (Iniiikeii Slicelahs, blastinti, blowing, No matter, 'tis all one to him.
For instance, I, one evening late,
Upon a gay vacation sally, Singing tlie praise of Church and State,
Got (God knows how) to Cranbourne Alley.
When lo ! an Irish Papist darted
Across my path, gaunt, grim, and big —
agined dangers of his Man of Conscience among the Papists of Spain, and had thinslated the words "quae \oca faiulosus lambit Hydaspes" thus — The fabling Spaniard licks the fVench;" but, recollecting that it is our interest just now to be respectful to Spanish Catholics (though there is certain]}' no earthly reason for our being even commonly civil to Irish ones), he altered tho passage as it stands at present.
Namque me silva lupus in Sabina, Dnm nieam canto Lulagen, et ultra Terminum curis vagor expeditis, Fugit incrmem.
I cannot help calling the reader's attention to the peculiar in- genuity with which these lines arc paraphrased. Not to mention the hnijjiy conversion of the Wolf into a Papist, (.seeing that Romulus was suckled by a wolf, that Rome was founded by Romulus, and that the Pope has always reigned at Rome,) there is something particularly neat in supposing " uftm terminum" to mean vacation-time; and then the modest consciousness with which the Noble and Learned Translator has avoided touchin<^ upon the words "curis expedllls," (or, as it has been otherwise read, " causls expeditis,'') and the felicitous idea of his being "inermis" when "without his wig," are altogether the most delectable specimens of paraphrase in our language.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS, 243
I did but frown, and off he started, Scar'd at me, even without my wig.
* Yet a more fierce and raw-bon'd dog Goes not to Mass in Dublin City, Nor shakes his brogue o'er Allen's Bog, Nor spouts in Catholic Committee.
t Oh ! place me midst O'Rourkes, O'Tooles, The ragged royal-blood of Tara ; Or place me where Dick Martin rules The houseless wilds of Connemara ;
I Of Church and State I'll warble still.
Though ev'n Dick Martin's self should grumble ; Sweet Church and State, like Jack and Jill, § So lovingly upon a hill —
Ah ! ne'er like Jack and Jill to tumble !
Quale portentum neque militaris Daunias latis alit Eesculetis, Nee Jubse tellus general leonum
Arida nutrix. Pone me pigris ubi nulla campis Arbor asstiva recreatur aura : Quod latus mundi, nebulae, malusque Jupiter urget. I must here remark, that the said Dick Martin being a very good fellow, it was uot at all fair to make a " malus Jupiter" of him.
Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, Dulce loquentem. ^ There cannot be imagined a more happy illustration of the
244 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
THE NEW COSTUME OF THE MINISTERS.
- NoTa monstra crcavit.
Ovid. Metatnorj>h. 1. i. v. 437.
Having sent off the troops of brave Major Caraac, With a swinging liorse-tail at each valorous back, And such hehnets, God bless us ! as never deck'd any Male creatui-e before, except Signor Giovanni — "Let's see," said the Regent (like Titus, perplex'd With the duties of empire,) "whom shall I dress next?"
He looks in the glass — but perfection is there, Wig, whiskers, and chin-tufts all right to a hair ; *
inseparability of Church and State, and their (what is called) "standing and falling together," than this ancient apologue of Jack and Jill. Jack, of course, represents the State iu this in- genious little Allegory.
Jack fell down,
And broke his Crown, And Jill came tumbling after. * That model of Princes, the Emperor Commodus, was par- ticularly luxurious in the dressing and ornamenting ef his hair. His conscience, however, would not suffer him to trust himself with a barber, and he used, accordingly, to burn ofl' his beard — "timore tonsoris," says Lampridius. {Jlist. Auyust. Scnj>tor.) The dissolute JKVms Verus, too, was equally attentive to the decoration of his wig. (See Jul. Capitolin.) — Indeed, this was not the only princely trait in the character of Verus, as he had likewise a most hearty and dignified contempt for his Wife. — See his insulting answer to her in Spartianus.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 245
Not a single ea;-curl on his forehe?.d be traces — For curls are like Ministers, strange as the case is, The falser they are, the more firm in their places. His coat he next views — but the coat who could
doubt ? For his Yarmouth's own Frenchified hand cut it
out ; Every pucker and scam were made matters of state, And a Grand Household Council was held on each
plait.
Then whom shall he dress? shall he new-rig his
brother, Great Cumberland's Duke, with some kickshaw or
other ? And kindly invent him more Christian-like shapes For his feather-bed neckcloths and pillory capes. Ah ! no — here his ardour would meet with delays. For the Duke had been lately pack'd up in new
Stays, So complete for the winter, he saw very plain 'T would be devilish hard work to wnpack him again.
So, what's to be done? — there's the Ministers,
bless 'em ! — As he made the puppets, why shouldn't he dress 'era? " An excellent thought ! — call the tailors — be
nimble — "Let Cum bring his spy-glass, and Hertford her
thimble ;
246 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
" While Yarmouth shall give us, in spite of all quiz-
zers, " The last Paris cut with his true Gallic scissors."
So saying, he calls Castlereagh, and the rest Of his heaven-born statesmen, to come and be drest. While Yarmouth, with snip-like and brisk expedi- tion, Cuts up, all at once, a large Cath'lic Petition In long tailors' measures, (the Prince crying " Well- done! ") And first js^^s in hand my Lord Chancellor Eldon.
COKRESPONDENCE BETWEEN A LADY AND GENTLEMAN,
OPON THE ADVANTAGE OF (WITAT IS CALLED) "HAVING LAW* ON one's side."
The Gentleman's Proposal.
" Legge aurea, S'ei place, ei lice."
Come, fly to these arms, nor let beauties so bloomy
To one frigid owner be tied ; Your prudes may revile, and your old ones look gloomy,
But, dearest, we've Law on our side.
* In allusion to T.ord Ellonborou^jh.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 247
Oh ! think the delight of two lovers congenial,
Whom no dull decorums divide ; [venial,
Their error how sweet, and their raptures how When once they've got Law on their side.
'Tis a thing, that in every King's reign has been done, too : Then why should it now be decried ? If the Father has done it, why shouldn't the Son too? For so argues Law on our side.
And, ev'n should our sweet violation of duty
By cold-blooded jurors be tried, They can but bring it in " a misfortune," my beauty,
As long as we 've Law on our side.
The Lady's Answer.
Hold, hold, my good Sir, go a little more slowly ;
For, grant me so faithless a bride. Such sinners as we, are a little too loicly,.
To hope to have Law on our side.
Had you been a great Prince, to whose star shining o'er 'em The People should look for their guide, Then your Highness (and welcome !) might kick down decorum — You'd always have Law on your side.
248 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
Were yon ev'ii au old ]\I;irqiiis, in mischief grown lioary,
Whose heart, though it long ago died To the pleasures of vice, is alive to its ghry —
You still would have Law on your side.
But i'oryou, Sir, Crim. Con. is a path full of troubles ;
By mi/ advice therefore abide, And leave the pursuit to those Princes and Nobles
Wlio have such a J^ato on their side.
OCCASIONAL ADDRESS
FOR THE OPENING OF THE NEW THEATRE OF ST. STEPHEX, INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY THE PROPRIETOR IN FULL COSTUME, ON THE 24TII OF NOVEMBER, 1812.
This day a New House, for your edification, We open, most thinking and right-headed nation ! Excuse the materials — though rotten and bad, They're the best that for money just now could be
had ; And, if eclio the charm of such houses should be, You will find it shall echo my speech to a T.
As for actors, we've got the old Company yet, The same motley, odd, tragi-comical set ; And consid'ring they all were but clerks t'other day. It is truly surprising how well they can play.
SATIRICAL AND IIL'JIOKOUS POEMS. 249
Our Manager,* (lie, who in Ulster was nurst, And sung Erin go Brah for the galleries first, But, on finding P^'rt-interest a much better thing, Chang'd his note of a sudden, to God save the King,) Still wise as he's blooming, and fat as he's clever, Himself and his speeches as lengthy as ever, Here offers you still the full use of his breath, Your devoted and long-winded proser till death.
You remember last season, when things went per- verse on, "We had to engage (as a block to rehearse on) One Mr. Vansittart, a good sort of person, "Who's also employ'd for this season to play. In " Raising the Wind," and " the Devil to Pay."t We expect too — at least we've been plotting and
planning — To get that gi-eat actor from Liverpool, Canning ; And, as at the Circus there 's nothing attracts Like a good single combat brought in 'twixt the acts. If the Manager should, with the help of Sir Pop- ham, Get up new diversions, and Canning should stop 'em. Who knows but we '11 have to announce in the papers, "Grand fight — second time — with additional capers."
Be your taste for the ludicrous, humdrum, or sad. There is plenty of each in this House to be had.
* Lord Castlereagh.
t He had recently been appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer.
250 SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
Where our Manager ruleth, there weeping will be, For a dead hand at tragedy always was he ; And there never was dealer in dagger and cup, "Who so smilingly got all his tragedies up. His powers poor Ireland will never forget, And the widows of Walcheren weep o'er, them yet.
So much for the actors ; — for secret machinery. Traps and deceptions, and shifting of scenery, Yarmouth and Cum are the best we can find. To transact all that trickery business behind. The former's employ'd too to teach us French jigs, Keep the whiskers in curl, and look after the wigs.
In taking my leave now, I've only to say, A few Seats in the House, not as yet sold away. May be had of the Manager, Pat Castlereagh.
THE SALE OF THE TOOLS.
Instrunienta regni. — Taciics.
Here 's a choice set of Tools for you, Ge'mmen and
Ladies, They'll tit you quite handy, whatever your trade is ; (Except it be Cabinet-making ; — no doubt, In tliat delicate service they're rather worn out; Though their owner, bright youth! if he'd had his
own will, Would have bungled away witli them joyously still.)
SATIRICAL AXD HUMOKOUS POEMS. 251
You can see they've been pretty well haclSd — and
alack ! What tool is there job after job will not hack ? Their edge is but dullish, it must be confess'd, And their temper, Uke Ellenb'rough's, none of the
best; But you '11 find them good hard-working Tools, upon
trying, [buying ;
TTer't but for their brass, they are well worth the They're famous for making blinds, sliders, and
screens, And are, some of them, excellent turning machines.
The first Tool I'll put up (they call it a Chancellor) Heavy concern to both purchaser and seller. Though made of pig iron, yet worthy of note 'tis, 'Tis ready to melt at a half minute's notice.* Who bids? Gentle buyer! 'twill turn as thou
shapest ; 'T will make a good thumb-screw to torture a Papist ; Or else a cramp-iron, to stick in the wall Of some church that old women are fearful will fall ; Or better, perhaps, (for I'm guessing at random.) A heavy drag-chain for some Lawyer's old Tandem. Will nobody bid ? It is cheap, I am sure. Sir — Once, twice, — going, going, — thrice, gone ! — it is
yours. Sir. To pay ready money you sha'n't be distrest, As a bill at long date suits the Chancellor best.
* An allusion to Lord Eldon's lachrymose tendencies.
252 SATIRICAL AND HUMOllOUS POEMS.
Come, Where's the next Tool? — Oh! 'tis here in a
trice — This implement, Ge'mmen, at first was a Vice ; (A teiKicious and close sort of tool, that will let Notliing out of its grasp it once happens to get ;) But it since has received a new coating of Tin, Bright enough for a Prince to behold himself in. Come, what shall we say for it? briskly ! bid on, We'll the sooner get rid of it — going — quite gone. God be with it, such tools, if not quickly knock'd
down. Might at last cost their o^vncr — how much ? why, a
Crown !
The next Tool I'll set up has hardly had handsel or Trial as yet, and is also a Ciiancellor — Such dull things as these should be sold by the gross ; Yet, dull as it is, 't will be found to shave close, And like other close shavGrs, some courage to gather, This blade first began by a flourish on leather.* You shall have it for nothing — then, marvel with
me At the terrible tinkering woi-k there must be. Where a Tool such as this is (I'll leave you to
judge it) Is placed by ill luck at the top of the Budget !
* " Of the taxes proposed by Mr. Vansittart, that principally opposed in Parliament was the additional duty on leather." Ann. Eegister.
SATIUICAL AND HUilOKOUS POEJIS. 253
LITTLE MAN AXD LITTLE SOUL.
A BALLAD.
To lilt tune of'''- There icasa little man, and he icoo'd a Utile maid."
DEDICATED TO THE RT. HON. CHARLES ABBOT.
Arcades ambo £t cant-are pares.
1S13.
There was a little Man, and he had a little Soul, And he said, " Little Soul, let us try, try, try, " "Wliether it's within our reach " To make up a little Speech, "Just between little you and little I, T, I, " Just between little you and little I ! " —
Then said his little Soul,
Peeping from her httle' hole, " I protest, little Man, you are stout, stout, stout,
" But, if it's not uncivil,
'' Pray tell me Avhat the devil " Must our little, little speech be about, bout, bout, " Must our little, little speech be about ? "
The little Man look'd big, With th' assistance of his Avigr, And he call'd his little Soul to order, order, order,
254 SATIRICAL AND nUMOROUS POEMS.
Till she fear'd he 'd make her jog in To goal, like Thomas Ci'oggan, (As she wasn't Duke or Earl) to reward her, ward her, ward her. As she wasn't Duke or Iilarl, to reward her.
The little Man then spoke, " Little soul, it is no joke, " For as sure as Jacky Fuller loves a sup, sup, sup, '" I will toll the Prince and People "What I think of Church and Steeple, " And my little patent plan to prop them up, up, up, " And my little patent plan to prop them up."
Away then, cheek by jowl, Little Man and little Soul Went and spoke their little speech to a tittle, tittle, tittle. And the world all declare That this priggish little pair Never yet in all their hves look'd so little, little, little. Never yet in all their lives look'd so little !
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEJIS. 255
EEIXFORCEMENTS FOR LORD WT:LLINGT0N.
Suosque tibi commendat Troja Penutes Hos cape fatorum comites. Virgil.
1813.
As recruits in these times are not easily got,
And the Marshal must have them — pray, why
should we not, [him,
As the last and, I grant it, the worst of our loans to Ship off the Ministry, body and bones to him ? There's not in all England, I'd venture to swear, Any men we could half so conveniently spare ; And, though they've been helping the French for
years past. We may thus make them useful to England at last. Castlereagh in our sieges might save some disgraces, Being us'd to the taking and keeping o^ places ; And Volunteer Canning, still ready for joining, IMight show off his talent for sly undermining. Could the Household but spare us its glory and pride, Old Headfort at horn-works again might be tried. And the Chief Justice makes a hold charge at his
side: "While Vansittart could victual the troops upon tick, And the Doctor look after the baggage and sick.
Nay, I do not see why the great Regent himself Should, in times such as these, stay at home on the shelf:
2oG SATiracAL and humorous poems.
Though through narrow defiles he's not fitted to
pass, Yet wlio could resist, if he bore down en masse ? And though oft, of an evening, perhaps he might
prove, Like our Spanish confed'rates, " unable to move," * Yet there's one thing in war of advantage unbounded, AVhich is, that he could not with ease be surrounded.
In my next I shall sing of their arms and equip- ment ; [ment ! At present no more, but — good luck to the ship-
IIOllACE, ODE I. LIB. III.
A FRAGMENT.
Odi profanum yulgus et arceo ; Faveto linguis : camiina non prius Aiiilita JIusarum saccrdos Virginibus puerisquc canto. Rcgum timendoiTim in proprios grcges, Reges in ipsos injperiuni est Joris.
1813.
I HATE thee, oh Mob, as my Lady hates delf ;
To Sir Francis I'll give up thy claps and thy hisses. Leave old INIagna Charta to shift for itself,
And, like Godwin, write books for young masters and misses.
» The character given to the Spanish soldier, in Sir John Murray's memorable despatch.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 257
Oh ! it is not high rank that can make the heart merry, Even monarchs themselves are not free from mis- hap : Though the Lords of WestphaHa must quake before Jerry, Poor Jerry himself has to quake before Nap.
HORACE, ODE XXXVIII. LIB. I.
A FRAGMENT.
Persicos odi, puer, adparatus ; Displicent nexae philyra coronae ; Mitte sectari, Rosa gjto locontm Sera inoTetur.
TKAXSLATED BY A TREASURY CLERK, WHILE WAITING DIN- NER FOR THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE ROSE.
BoT, tell the Cook that I hate all knick-knackeries, Fricassees, vol-au-vents, puffs, and gim-crackeries — Six by the Horse-Guards ! — old Georgy is late — But come — lay the table cloth — zounds ! — do not
wait. Nor stop to inquire, while the dinner is staying. At which of his places Old Rose is delaying !
The literal closeness of the version here cannot but be ad- mired. The Translator has added a long, erudite, and flowery note upon Roses, of which I can merely give a specimen at pres- VOL. II. 17
258 SATIRICAL AND IIUMOUOUS POEMS.
IMPROMPTU.
UPON BEING OBLIGED TO LEAVE A PLEASANT PARTY, FROM THE WANT OF A PAIR OF BREECHES TO DRESS FOR DIN- NER IX.
1810.
Between Adam and me the great difference is, Though a paradise each has been forc'd to resign,
That he never wore breeches, till turn'd out of his, "Wliile, for Avant of my breeclies, 1 'm banish'd from mine.
ent. Ill the first place, lie ransacks the Eoscmum Politicum of the Persian poet Sadi, with the hope of fiiuliiig some rolilical Roses, to match the gentleman in the text — but in vain: lie then tells us that Cicero accused Verres of reposing upon a cushion " Melitensi rom yartum,^' ■which, from the odd mixture of words, he supposes to be a kind of Irish Bed of Roses, like Lord Castlereagh's. The learned Clerk next favours us with some remarks upon a well-known punning epita])li on fair Eosamond, and expresses a most loyal hope, that, if " I>osa munda" mean "a Rose with clean hands" it may be found ap- plicable to the Right Honourable Rose in question. He then dwells at some length upon the "Rosa aiirea,'' which, though descriptive, in one sense, of the old Treasury Statesman, yet, as being consecrated and worn by the Pope, must, of course, not be brought into the same atmosphere with him. Lastly, in ref- erence to the words " old Rose," he winds up with the pathetic lamentation of the Poet " consenuisse Rosas." The whole note indeed shows a knowledge of Roses, that is quite edifying.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. 259
LORD WELLINGTON AND THE MINISTERS.
1813.
So gently in peace Alcibiades smil'd,
While in battle he shone forth so terribly grand, That the emblem they grav'd on his seal, was a child
With a thunderbolt plac'd in its innocent hand.
Oh Wellington, long as such Ministers wield
Your magnificent arm, the same emblem will do ;
For Avhile they've in the Council and you in the Field, We 've the babies in them, and the thunder in you !
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS.
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS.
LINES ON THE DEATH OF MR. PERCEVAL.
In the dirge we sung o'er him no censure was heard, Unembitter'd and free did the tear-drop descend ;
We forgot, in that hour, how the statesman had err'd, And Avept for the husband, the father, and friend.
Oh, proud was the meed his integrity won.
And gen'rous indeed were the tears that we shed,
When, in grief, we forgot all the ill he had done. And, though wrong'd by him, living, bewail'd him, when dead.
Even now, if one harsher emotion intrude, 'Tis to wish he had chosen some lowlier state,
Had known Avhat he was — and, content to be good. Had ne'er, for our ruin, aspii*ed to be great.
So, left through their own little orbit to move, His years might have roll'd inoffensive away ;
His children might still have been bless'd with his
love, [his sway.
And England would ne'er have been cux-sed with
264 POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POKMS.
To tlie Editor of the Morning Chronicle.
In order to explain the following Fragment, it is necessary to refer your readers to a late tlorid <le- scription of the Pavilion at Brighton, in the apart- ments of which, we are told, " Fuji, The Chinese Bird of Royalty," is a principal ornament,
I am, Sir, yours, etc.
FUM AND HUM, THE TWO BIRDS OF ROYALTY.
One day the Chinese Bird of Royalty, FuM. Thus accosted our own Bird of Royalty, IIu.ai, In that Palace or China-shop (Brighton, which is it?) Where Fuji 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, fuU-craw'd Legitimates — both, birds of prey, Both, cackling and ravenous creatures, half way 'Twixt the goose and the vultui-e, like Lord Castle-
REAGH,
While FuM deals in Mandarins, Bonzes, Bohea, Peers, Bishops, and Punch, Hum, are sacred to thee !
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS. 265
So congenial their tastes, that, when Fuji first did
hght on The floor of that grand China- warehouse at Brighton, The lanterns, and dragons, and things round the
dome Were so hke what he left, "Gad," saj^s Fuii, "I'm
at home." — And when, turning, he saw Bishop L ge, "Zooks,
it is," Quoth the Bird, " Yes — I know him — a Bonze, by
his phyz — " And that jollj 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 Prixce 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 Fum 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 Prince just in bed, or about to depart for 't, His legs full of gout, and his arms full of Hertford,) " I say, Hum," says Fum — Fum, of course, spoke Chinese,
* In consequence of an old promise, that he should be allowed to wear his own hair, whenever he might be elevated to a Bish- opric by his Royal Highness.
266 rOI-lTICAL AXD SATIRICAL POEMS.
But, bless you, that's nothing — at Brighton one sees Forcif'u hngocs and Bishoi)s 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 Barrymore, Yarmouth, and young Master
L E)
« As for us in Pekin" here, a dev'l of a dm
From the bed-chamber came, where that long Man- darin, Castlereagh (whom FuM calls the Confuslus 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 LiVKRrooL come, In collateral lines, from the old Mother Hum, Castlereagh a IIuM-bug — Liverpool a Hum-
drum.) The Speech being finish'd, out rush'd Castlereagh, 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.
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS. 267
LIXES ON THE DEATH OF SHERIDAN. Principibus placuisse yiris I — Horat.
Yes, grief will have way — but the fast falling tear Shall be mingled with deep execrations on those,
Who could bask in that Spirit's meridian career, And jet leave it thus lonely and dark at its close : —
Whose vanity flew round him, only while fed
By the odour his fame in its summer-time gave ; —
Whose vanity now, with quick scent for the dead, Like the Ghole of the East, comes to feed at his grave.
Oh ! it sickens the heart to see bosoms so hollow, And spirits so mean in the great and high-born ;
To think what a long line of titles may follow
The relics of him who died — friendless and lorn !
How proud they can press to the fun'ral array Of one, whom they shunn'd in his sickness and sorrow : —
How baliffs may seize his last blanket, to-day,
Whose paU shall be held up by nobles to-morrow !
And Thou, too, whose life, a sick epicure's dream. Incoherent and gross, even grosser had pass'd,
268 POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS.
"Were it not for that cordial and soul-giving beam, Which his friendship and wit o'er thy nothingness cast : —
No, not for the wealth of the land, that supplies thee With millions to heap upon Foppery's shrine; —
No, not for the riches of all who despise thee,
TIio' this would make Europe's whole opulence mine ; —
Would I suffer what — ev'n in the heart that thou
hast —
All mean as it is — must have consciously burn'd,
When the pittance, which shame had wrung from
thee at last, [return'd ! *
And which found all his wants at an end, was
"Was this then the fate," — future ages will say. When some names shall live but in history's cuz-se;
When Truth will be heard, and these Lords of a day Be forgotten as fools, or remember'd as worse ; —
" Was this then the fate of that high-gifted man, " The pride of the palace, the bower and the hall,
" The orator, — dramatist, — minstrel, — who ran " Througli each mode of the lyre, and was master of all; —
* The sum was two hundred pounds — offered y;\\cn Sheridan could no longer take any sustenance, and declined, for him, by his friends.
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS. 269
« "Whose mind was an essence, compounded with art "From the finest and best of all other men's powei'S ; — " Who ruled, like a wizard, the world of the heart, " And could call up its sunshine, or biing down its showers ; —
" "Whose humour, as gay as the fire-fly's light,
"Play'd round every subject, and shone as it play'd ; —
" "Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright, " Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade ; —
"Whose eloquence — bright'ning whatever it tried, " Whether reason or fancy, the gay or the grave, —
" Was as rapid, as deep, and as brilliant a tide, " As ever bore Freedom aloft on its wave ! "
Yes — such was the man, and so wretched his fate ; — And thus, sooner or later, shall all have to grieve,
Who waste their morn's dew in the beams of the Great, And expect 't will return to refresh them at eve.
In the woods of the North there are insects that prey On the brain of the elk till his very last sigh ; *
Oh, Genius ! thy patrons, more cruel than they. First feed on thy brains, and then leave thee to die 1
* Naturalists have observed that, upon dissecting an elk, there Tvas found in its head some large flies, with its brain almost eaten away by them. — History of Poland.
270 POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS.
EPISTLE FROM TOM CRIB TO BIG BEN*
COSCERXIXG SOJIE FOUL PLAY IN A LATE TKAXSACTION.t
" Ahi, mio Ben ; "— Metasta8I04
"What ! Bex, my old hero, is this your renown ? Is this the new yo ? — kick a man wlien he's down ! When the foe has knock'd under, to tread on him
then — By the fist of my father, I bUish for thee, Bex ! " Foul ! foul ! " all the lads of the Fancy exclaim — Charley Shock is electrified — Belcher spits
flame — And MoLYNEUX — ay, even Bl acky§ 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 figliting and
eating) His foe, like his beef-steak, the sweeter for beating. But this comes. Master Ben, of your curst foreign
notions, [lotions ;
Your trinkets, wigs, thingumbobs, gold lace and Your Noyaus, Cura(;oas, and the Devil knows what — (One swig of Blue Ruin || is worth the whole lot !)
* A nickname given, at this time, to the Prince Itegent.
t Written soon after Bonaparte's transportation to St. Helena.
X Tom, I suppose, was " assisted " to this Motto by Mr. Jack- son, who, it is well- known, keeps the most learned cornpany going.
§ Names and nicknames of celebrated pugilists at that time.
II Gin.
POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS. 271
Your great and small crosses — (my eyes, what a
brood ! A cross-buttock from me would do some of them
good !) Which have spoilt you, till hardly a drop, my old
porpoise, Of pure English claret is left in your corpus ; And (as Jim says) the only one trick, good or bad, Of the Fancy you're up to, \s fibbing, my lad. Hence it comes, — Boxiaxa, disgrace to thy page ! — Having floor 'd, by good luck, the first stcell of the age, Having conquer'd the prime one, that milVd us all
round. You kick'd him, old Bex, as he gasp'd on the ground! Ay — just at the time to show spunk, if you'd got
any — Kick'd him, and jaw'd him, and lag'd* liim to
Botany ! Oh, shade of the Cheesemonger ! f you, who, alas, Doubled up, by the dozen, those Mounseers in brass. On that great day of milling, when blood lay in lakes, When Kings held the bottle, and Europe the stakes, Look down upon Bex — see him, dunghill all o'er, Insult the fall'n foe, that can harm him no more ! Out, cowardly spooney / — again and again, By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, Ben. To show the white feather is many men's doom. But, what of one feather ? — Bex shows a whole Plume.
* Transported.
t A Life Guardsman, one of the Fancy, who distinguished himself, and was killed in the memorable set-to at Waterloo.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
Le Leggi dclla Maschera richiedono che una persona masehe- rata non sia salutata per nome da uno che la conosce inalgrado il suo traTestimento. Castiglione.
VOL. II. 18
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
The success, ftir exceeding my hopes and deserts, with which Lalla Rookh was immediately crowned, relieved me at once from the anxious feeling of responsibility under which that enterprise had been commenced, and which continued for some time to haunt me amidst all the enchantments of my task. I was therefore in the true holyday mood, when a dear friend, with whose name is associated some of the brightest and pleasantest hours of my past life *, kindly offered me a seat in his carriage for a short visit to Paris. This proposal I, of course, most gladly accepted; and, in the autumn of the year 1817, found myself, for the first time, in that gay capital.
As the restoration of the Bourbon dynasty was still of too recent a date for any amalgamation to have yet taken place between the new and ancient order of things, all the most prominent features of both regimes were just then brought, in their fullest relief, into juxtaposition ; and, accordingly, the re-
* Mr. Rogers.
276 THE I'UDGK FAMILY IX PAIilS.
suit was such as to suggest to an unconcerned spec- tator quite as abundant matter for ridicule as for grave political consideration. It would be difficult, indeed, to convey to those who had not themselves seen the Paris of that period, any clear notion of the anomalous aspect, both social and political, which it then presented. It was as if, in the days succeed- ing the Deluge, a small coterie of antediluvians had been suddenly evoked from out of the deep to take the cbmmand of a new and freshly starting world.
To me, the abundant amusement and interest which such a scene could not but ail^'ord was a good deal heightened by my having, in my youthful days, been made acquainted with some of those personages who were now most interested in the future success of the Legitimate cause. The Comte D'Artois, or INIonsieur, I had met in the year 1802-3, at Don- ington Park, the seat of the Earl of Moira, under whose princely roof I used often and long, in those days, to find a most hospitable home. A small party of distinguished French emigrants were al- ready staying on a visit in the house when Monsieur and his suite arrived ; and among those were the present King of France and his two brothers, the Due de Montpensier, and the Comte de Beaujolais.
Some doubt and uneasiness had, I remember, been felt by the two latter brothers, as to tlie recep- tion they were likely to encounter from the new guest ; and as, in those times, a cropped and un- powdered head was regarded generally as a symbol
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 277
of Jacobinism, the Corate Beaujolais, who, like many other young men, wore his hair in this fashion, thought it, on the present occasion, most prudent, in order to avoid all risk of ofience, not only to put powder in his hair, but also to provide himself with an artificial queue. This measure of precaution, however, led to a slight incident after dinner, which, though not very royal or dignified, was at least creditable to the social good-humour of the future Charles X. On the departure of the ladies from the dining-room, we had hardly seated ourselves in the old-fashioned style, round the fire, Avhen Mon- sieur, who had happened to place himself next to Beaujolais, caught a glimpse of the ascititious tail, — which, having been rather carelessly put on, had a good deal straggled out of its place. With a sort of scream of jocular pleasure, as if delighted at the discovery, Monsieur seized the stray appendage, and, bringing it round into full view, to the great amusement of the wliole company, popped it into poor grinning Beaujolais' mouth.
On one of the evenings of this shori visit of Mon- sieur, I remember Curran arriving unexpectedly, on his way to London ; and, having come too late for dinner, he joined our party in the evening. As the foreign portion of the company was then quite new to him, I was able to be useful, by informing him of the names, rank, and other particulars of the party he found assembled, from Monsieur himself down to the old Due de Lorge and the Baron de Rolle.
278 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN I'AIJIS.
"When I hat! gone througli the whole list, " Ah, poor fellows!" he cxclaiincHl, with a mixture of fun and pathos in his look, truly Irish, " Poor I'ellows, all dis- nioiuitcd cavalry ! "
On the last evening of Monsieur's stay, I was made to sing for him, among other songs, " Farewell Bessy ! " one of my earliest attempts at musical com- position. As soon as I had finished, he paid me the conii)liinent of reading aloud the wofds as written under the music ; and most royal havoc did he make, as to this day I remember, of whatever little sense or metre they could boast.
Among my earlier poetic wi'itings, more than one grateful memorial may be found of the happy days I passed in this hospitable mansion —
Of all my sunny morns and moonlight nights On Doningtou's green lawns and breezy heights.
But neither verse nor prose could do any justice to the sort of impression I still retain of those long-van- ished days. The library at Donington was exten- sive and valuable ; and through the jjrivilege kindly granted to me of retiring tliither tor study, even when the family were absent, I frequently passed whole weeks alone in that tine library, indulging in all the first airy eastle-building of authorship. The various projects, indeed, of future works that used then to pass in fruitless succession through my mind, can be compared only to the waves as described by the poet, —
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PAKI3. 279
"And one no sooner touch'd the shore, and died, Than a new follower rose."
With that library is also connected another of my earlier poems, — the verses addressed to the Duke of Montpensier on his portrait of the Lady Adelaide Forbes ; for it was there that this truly noble lady, then in the first dawn of her beauty, used to sit for that picture ; while, in another part of tlie library, the Duke of Orleans, — engaged generally at that time with a volume of Clarendon, — was by such studies unconsciously preparing himself for the high and arduous destiny, which not only the Good Genius of France, but his own sagacious and intrepid spirit, had marked out for him.
I need hardly say how totally different were all the circumstances under which Monsieur himself and some of his followers were again seen by me in the year 1817 ; — the same actors, indeed, but with an entirely new change of scenery and decorations. Amongthe variety of aspects presented by this change, the ridiculous certainly predominated ; nor could a satirist who, like Philoctetes, was smitten with a fancy for shooting at geese,* ask any better supply of such game than the high places, in France, at that period, both lay and ecclesiastical, afforded. As I was not versed, however, sufficiently in French poli- tics to venture to meddle with them, even in sport, I found a more ready conductor of laughter — for which
* " Pinnigero, non amiigero in corpore tela exerceantur: " — the words put by Accius in the mouth of Philoctetes.
280 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
I was then much in the mood — in those groups of ridiculous Enghsh who were at that time swarming in all directions throughout Paris, and of all whose various forms of cocknejism and nonsense I endeav- oured, in the personages of the. Fudge Family, to col- lect the concentrated essence. The result, as usual, fell very far short of what I had myself preconceived and intended. But, making its appearance at such a crisis, the Avork brought with it that best seasoning of all such jeHX-cres]}ri(, the n-propos o^ the moment; and, accordingly, in the race of successive editions, Lalla Rookh was, for some time, kept pace w-ith by Miss Biddy Fudge.
PREFACE,
In Avhat manner the following Epistles came into my hands, it is not necessaiy foi' the public to know. It will be seen by Mr. Fudge's Second Letter, that he is one of those gentlemen whose Secret Services in Ireland, under the mild ministry of my Lord Cas- TLEREAGH, have been so amply and gratefully remu- nerated. Like his friend and associate, Thomas Reynolds, Esq., he had retired upon the reward of his honest industry ; but has lately been induced to appear again in active life, and superintend the train- ing of that Delatorian Cohort, which Lord Sid mouth, in his wisdom and benevolence, has organized.
AVhether Mr. Fudge, himself, has yet made any discoveries, does not appear from the following pages. But much may be expected from a person of his zeal and sagacity, and, indeed, to liim, Lord Sidjiouth, and the Greenland-bound ships, the eyes of all lov- ers of discoveries are now most anxiously directed.
I regret much that I have been obliged to omit Mr. Bob Fudge's Third Letter, concluding the adventures of his Day with the Dinner, Opera, etc., etc.; — but, in consequence of some remarks upon Marinette's thin drapery, which, it was thought, might
282 PREFACE.
give offence to certain well-meaning persons, the niaiiiiscript was sent back to Paris for his revision, and luul not returned when the last sheet was put to press.
It will not, I hope, be thought presumptuous, if I take this opportunity of complaining of a very seri- ous injustice I have suffered from the public. Dr. King wrote a treatise to prove that Bentley " was not the author of his own book," and a similar ab- surdity has been asserted of me, in almost all the best informed literary circles. With the name of the real author staring them in the face, they have yet per- sisted in attributing my works to other people ; and the fame of the Twopenny Post Bag — such as it is
— having hovered doubtfully over various persons, has at last settled upon the head of a certain little gentleman, who wears it, I understand, as compla- cently as if it actually belonged to him ; without even the honesty of avowing, with his own favourite author, (he will excuse the pun)
E)'w (5' 'O Mi2P0S apa^
I can only add, that if any lady or gentleman, cu- rious in such matters, will take the trouble of calling at ni}' lodgings, 245 Piccadilly, I shall have the hon- our of assuring them, in propria persona, that I am
— his, or her.
Very obedient
And very humble Servant,
'I'ilOMAS RliOWX, THE YOUNGER.
April 17, 1818.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
LETTER I.
FKOJI JIISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MISS DOROTHY
KILTY, IX IRELAND.
Amiens. Dear Doll, while the tails of our horses are plait- ing, The trunks tying on, and Papa, at the door,
Into very bad French is, as usual, translating His English resolve not to give a sou more, I sit down to write you a line — only think ! — A letter from France, with French pens and French
ink. How delightful ! though, would you believe it, my
dear? I have seen nothing yet very wonderful here ; No adventure, no sentiment, far as we 've come, But the corn-fields and trees quite as dull as at home ; And but for the post-boy, his boots and his queue, I m\g\\i just as well be at Clonkilty with you ! In vain, at Dkssein's, did I take from my trunk That divine fellow, Stekne, and fall reading " The
Monk;"
284 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
In vain did I tliink of his cliarming Dead Ass, And remember the eriist and tlie wallet — ahts! No monks can be had now for love or for money, (All owing, Pa says, to that infidel Bonev ;) And, thongli one little Neddy we saw in our drive Ont of elassical Nainpont, the beast was alive !
By the by, though, at Calais, Papa had a touch Of romance on the pier, which affected me much. At the sight of that spot, where our darling DixiiuiT Set the first of his own dear legitimate feet,* (Modell'd out so exactly, and — God bless the mark! 'Tis a foot, Dolly, worthy so Grand a Monarque), He exclaim'd, " Oh, mon Roi ! " and, with tear-drop- ping eye. Stood to gaze on the spot — ; while some Jacobin,
nigh, Mutter'd out with a shrug (what an insolent tiling !) "Ma fbi, he be right — 'tis de Englishman's King; And dat gros pied de cochon — begar, me vil say Dat de foot look mosh better, if turn'd toder way." There 's the pillar, too — Lord ! I had nearly forgot — ■ What a charming idea ! — rais'd close to the spot ; The mode being now, (as you've heard, I suppose,) To build tombs over legs,t and raise pillars to toes.
* To commomonite the landiiifc of Louis le Desire^ from Eng- land, tlio iiii[)rcssion of his foot is nnirked out on tiic j)ier at Ca- lais, uiid a pillar with an inscription raised opposite to the spot.
f Ci-git la janilje de, etc. etc.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 285
This is all that's occurrM sentimental as yet, Excei)t, indeed, some little flow'r-nymphs we've met, Who disturb one's romance with pecuniary views, Flinging flow'rs^in your jiath, and then — bawling for sous ! [seem
And some picturesque beggars, whose multitudes To recall the good days of the ancien regime, All as ragged and brisk, you '11 be happy to learn, And as thin as they were in the time of dear Sterne.
Our party consists (in a neat Calais job) Of Papa and myself, Mr. Connor and Bob. You remember how sheepish Bob look'd at Kil-
randy. But, Lord ! he 's quite alter'd — they 've made him a Dandy ; [laced,
A thing, you know, whisker'd, great-coated, and Like an hour-glass, exceedingly small in the waist : Quite a new sort of ci'eatures, unknown yet to
scholars, With heads, so immovably stuck in shirt collars, That seats, like our music-stools, soon must be found
them, ■ I
To twirl, when the creatures may wish to look round
them. In short, dear, " a Dandy " describes Avhat I mean, And Bob's far the best of the genus I've seen : An improving young man, fond of learning, ambi- tious. And goes now to Paris to study French dishes,
286 THE FUDGE FAMILY I\ PARIS.
Whose names — think, how (luick ! he ah-eady knows
])!lt,
A la braise, pet its piiti's, and — wliat d'ye call that They inflict on potatoes? — oh! vyxitre dliotcl — I assure you, dear Dolly, he knows them as well As if nothing else all his life he had eat, Though a bit of them Bohijy has never touch'd yet; But just knows the names of F'rench dishes and
cooks. As dear Pa knows the titles of authors and books.
As to Pa, what d'ye think? — mind, it's all entre
nous, But you know, love, I never keep secrets from you — Why, he 's writing a book — what ! a tale ? a romance ? No, ye Gods, would it were! — but his Travels in
France ; At the special desire (he let out t'other day) Of his great friend and patron, my Lord Castle-
REAGH,
Who said, « My dear Fudge " I forget th'
exact words. And, it 's strange, no one ever remembers my Lord's; But 'twas something to say that, as all must allow A good orthodox work is much wanting just now, To expound to the world the new — thingunnnie —
science, [auce,
Found out by the — what's-its-name — Holy Alli- And pi-ove to inankiml that their rights are but folly, Their freedom a joke (which it/s, you know, Dolly),
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 287
"There's none," said his Lordship, "if /may be
Half so fit for this great undertaking as Fudge ! "
The matter's soon settled — Pa flies to the Ro\o (The^rs^ stage your tourists now usually go), Settles all for his quarto — advertisements, praises — Starts post from the door, with his tablets — French phrases — [has
" Scott's Visit," of course — in short, ev'ry thing he An author can want, except words and ideas : — And, lo ! the first thing, in the spring of the year, Is Phil. Fudge at the front of a Quarto, my dear !
But, bless me, my paper's near out, so I'd better Draw fast to a close: — this exceeding long letter You owe to a dejeuner a la fourchette, Which Bobby would have, and is hard at it yet. — What's next? oh, the tutor, the last of the party. Young Connor: — they say he's so like Bona- parte, His nose and his chin — which Papa rather dreads, As the Bourbons, you know, are suppressing all
heads That resemble old Nap's, and who knows but their
honours May think, in their fright, of suppressing poor Con- nor's ? Au reste (as we say), the young lad's well enough, Only talks much of Athens, Rome, virtue, and stuff;
288 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PAKIS.
A third cousin of ours, by the w:iy — poor as Job (Thougli of royal descent by tlie side of Mamma),
And for charity made private tutor to Bob ; — Entre nous, too, a Papist — liow lib'ral of Pa!
This is all, dear, -7- forgive me for breaking off thus, But Bob's dejeuner^ & done, and Papa's in a fuss.
B. F.
How provoking of Pa ! h& will not let me stop Just to run in and rummage some milliner's shop ; Artd my debut in Paris, I blush to think on it. Must now, Doll, be made in a hideous low bonnet. But Paris, dear Paris ! — oh, there will be joy, And romance, and high bonnets, and Madame Le Koi!*
LETTEE II.
FROM PHIL. FUDGE, ESQ. TO THE LORD VISCOUNT CASTLEREAGH.
Paris. At length, my Lord, I have the bliss To date to you a line from this " Demoraliz'd " metropolis ; Wiiere, by plebians low and scurvy, The throne was turn'd ({uitc topsy turvy,
* A celebrated miintua-nniker in Paris.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 289
And Kingship, tumbled from its seat, " Stood prostrate " at the people's feet ; Where (still to use your Lordship's tropes) The level of obedience slopes Upward and downward, as the stream Of hydra faction hichs the beam ! * Where the poor Palace changes masters
Quicker than a snake its skin, And Louis is i-oll'd out on castors.
While Boney's borne on shoulders in : — But where, in every change, no doubt.
One special good your Lordship traces, — That 'tis the Kings alone turn out,
The Mhiisters still keep their places.
How oft, dear Viscount Castlereagh, I've thought of thee upon the way. As in my job (what place could be More apt to wake a thought of thee ?) — Or, oftener far, when gravely sitting Upon my dicky, (as is fitting For him who writes a Tour, that he May more of men and manners see,) I've thought of thee and of thy glories. Thou guest of Kings, and King of Tories !
* This excellent imitation of the noble Lord's stj'le shows how deeply Mr. Fudge must have studied his great origina}. Irish oratory, indeed, abounds with such startling peculiarities. Thus the eloquent Counsellor B , in describing some hypo- critical pretender to charity, said, " He put his hand in his breeches-pocket, like a crocodile, and," etc. etc. VOL. II. 19
290 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX FAUIS.
Reflecting how thy fame has grown
And spread, beyond niaii'.s usual share, At home, al)road, till thou art known,
Like Major Semple, everywhere ! And inarv'lling witli wiiat pow'rs of breath Your Lordshij), having speech'd to death Some hundreds of your fellow-men, Next speech'd to Sovereigns' ears, — and when All Sovereigns else were doz'd, at last Speech'd down the Sovereign * of Belfast. Oh ! mid the praises and the trophies Thou gain'st from Morosophs and Sophis ; Mid all the tributes to thy fame.
There's one thou should'st be chiefly pleas'd at — That Ireland gives her snuff thy name,
And CASTLEREAGu'sthe thing now sneez'd at!
But hold, my pen ! — a truce to praising — Though ev'n your Lordship will allow
The theme's temptations are amazing ; But time and ink run short, and now,
(As thou wouldst say, my guide and teacher In these gay metaphoric fringes,
* Tlio title of the chief magistrate of Belfast, before whom his Lordsliip (with the "stiulium immane loquendi " attributed by Ovid to that ehattering and rapacious class of birds, the pies) delivered sundry long and self-gratulatory orations, on his re- turn from the Continent. It was at one of these Irish dinners that his gallant brother, Lord S., proposed the health of " The best cavalry officer in Europe — the Regent! "
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 291
I must embark into i\\e feature
On which this letter chiefly hinges ; — My Book, the Book that is to prove — And icill, (^o help ye Sprites above, That sit on clouds, as gi"ave as judges, Watching the labours of the Fudges !) Will prove that all the world, at present. Is in a state extremely pleasant ; That Europe — thanks to royal swords
And bay'nets, and the Duke commanding — Enjoys a peace which, like the Lord's,
Passeth all human understanding : That France prefers her go-cart King
To such a coward scamp as Boxet ; Though round, with each a leading-string,
There standeth many a Royal crony, For fear the chubby, tottering thing
Should fall, if left there loney-poney ; — That England, too, the more her debts, The more she spends, the richer gets ; And that the Irish, grateful nation !
Remember when by thee reign'd over, And bless thee for their flagellation.
As Heloisa did her lover ! — t That Poland, left for Russia's lunch
Upon the side-board, snug reposes :
* Verbatim from one of the noble Viscount's Speeches — " And now, Sir, I must embark into the feature on which this question chiefly hinges."
t See her Letters.
292 TtlK FL-nGE FAMILY IX I'ARIS.
While Saxony 's as pleased as Punch, And Norway " on a bed of roses ! " That, as for some few million souls,
Transferr'd by contract, bless tlie clods ! If half were strangled — Spaniards, Poles,
And Frenchmen — 't would n't make much odds, So Europe's goodly Royal ones Sit easy on their sacred thrones ; So Fkrdixand embroiders gaily, And Louis eats his sab)n\'f daily ; So time is left to Emperor Sandy To be half Caisar and half Dandy ; And George the Regent (who 'd forget That doughtiest chieftain of the set?) Hath wherewithal for trinkets new,
For dragons after Chinese models, And chambers where Duke IIo and Soo
Might come and nine times knock their nod- dles ! — All this my Quarto '11 prove — much more Than Quarto ever proved before : — In reas'ning with the Post I'll vie. My facts the Courier shall supply,
* It would be an edifyin.f; thing to write a history of the private amusements of sovereigns, tnicing them clown from the fly-sticking of Domitian, the mole-catching of Arlabanus, the hog-mimicking of I'armenides, the horse-currying of Aretas, to the petticoat cmliroidering of Ferdinand, atid the patience-play ing of the Prince Kegent!
Oipa TE, oia cdovai 6w7p£<i>£eg fSaailrjeg.
IIo.mkh, OJi/ss. 3.
S
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 293
My jokes Vansittart, Peele ray sense, And thou, sweet Lord, my eloquence !
My Journal, penn'd by fits and starts,
On Biddy's back or Bobby's shoulder, (My son, my Lord, a youtli of parts,
Who longs to be a small place-holder,) Is — though /say't, that shouldn't say — Extremely good ; and, by the way, One extract from it — only one — To show its spirit, and I've done. ^' Jul. thirty-first. — Went, after snack,
" To the Catliedral of St. Denny ; " Sigh'd o'er the Kings of ages back,
" And — gave the old Concierge a penny. " (3fem. — Must see Rheims, much fam'd, 'tis said, " For making Kings and gingerbread.) " Was shown the tomb where lay, so stately, " A little Bourbon, buried lately, " Thrice high and puissant, we were told, '•' Though only twenty-four hours old ! * " Hear this, thought I, ye Jacobins : " Ye Burdetts, tremble in your skins ! " If Royalty, but aged a day, " Can boast such high and puissant sway, " What impious hand its pow'r would fix, « FuU fledg'd and wigg'd f at fifty-six ! "
* So described on the cofSn: " tres-haute et puissante Prin- cesse, agee d'un jour."
t There is a fulness and breadth in this portrait of Royalty,
294 Tin: rLi>GE family tn parts.
The argument's quite new, you see, And proves exactly Q. E. D. So now, Avith duty to the Regent, I am, dear Lord,
Your most obedient.
Hotel Breteuil, Rue Rivoli.
Neat lodgings — rather dear for me ;
But Biddy said she thought 'twould look
Gentoeler thus to date my Book ;
And Biddy's right — besides, it curries
Some favour with our friends at Muuray's,
Who scorn what any man can say,
That dates ft-om Rue St. Honore ! *
LETTER III.
FROJI MU. BOB FUDGE TO RICHABD , ESQ.
Oh Dick ! you may talk of your writing and reading, Your Logic and Greek, but there's nothing like
feeding ; And this is the place for it, Dicky, you dog, Of all places on earth — tiie head-quarters of Prog!
which rciiiiiiils us of \vh:it Pliny siiys, in speaking of Trajun's great qualities: — " nonne long6 lateque Principem ostentant? "
* See the Quarterly Review for ^lay, ISIG," where Mr. Hob- house is acciisoil of having written his book " in a back street of the French caiiital."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 295
Talk of England — her famed Magna Cliarta, I
swear, is A humbug, a flam, to the Carte * at old Ve'ry's ; And as for your Juries — who would not set o'er 'em A Jury of Tasters,t with woodcocks before 'em ? Give Cartavright his Parliaments, fresh every
year ; But those friends of short Commons would never do
here ; And, let RoMiLY speak as he will on the question, No Digest of Law 's like the laws of digestion !
By the by, Dick, 1 fatten — but n'impoi'te for that, 'Tis the mode — your Legitimates always get fat. There's the Regent, there's Louis — and Boney
tried too, But, tho' somewhat imperial in paunch, 't wouldn't
do : — [wed.
He improv'd, indeed, much in this point, when he Bat he ne'er grew right royally fat in the head.
Dick, Dick, what a place is this Paris! — but
stay — As my i-aptures may bore you, I'll just sketch a
Day,
» The Bill of Fare. — V^ry, a well-known Restaurateur.
t Sir. Bob alludes particularly, 1 presume, to the faiiious Jury D^gustateur, which used to assemble at the Hotel of M. Grimod de la Eeyniere, and of which this modern Archcstratus has giyen an account in his Almanach des Gourmands, cinqui^me ann6e, p. 78.
296 THE FUDGi: ia.mily ix parts.
As we pass it, myself and some comrades I've got, All thorough-bred Gnostics, who know whaL is what.
After dreaming some hours of the land of Cocaigne,*
That Elysium of all that is f Hand and nice, Whei'e for hail they have bon-bons, and claret for
rain, And the skaiters in winter show off on cream-ice ; Where so ready all nature its cookery yields, Macaroni an parmesan grows in the fields ; Little birds fly about with the true pheasant taint. And the geese are all born with a liver complaint! f I rise — put on neckrcloth — stiff, tiglit, as can be — For a lad who goes into the world, Dick, like me. Should have his neck tied up, you know — there 's
no doubt of it — Almost as tight as some lads who go out of it. With whiskers well oil'd, and Avith boots that " hold
up " The mirror to nature" — so bright you could sup
* The fiiiry-lfind of cookery and gourmandise; "Pais, oil le ciel odVc les y'uuhIcs toutes cuites, et oii, commeon purle, les alouottcs tombcnt toutes roties. Du Katin, coquere." — Buchal.
t The proces.a by which the liver of the unfortunate goose is enlarired, in order to ])roduce that richest of all dainties, the Jhie </rns, of which such renowned jjrtcs are made at Strasbourg and Toidouse, is thus described in the Cours Gustronomique: — "On d»'])lume Testomac des oies; on attache ensuite ces ani- maux aux chcnets d'une chemin(''e, et on les nourrit dcvant le feu. La captivite et la chaleur doniient ii ces volatiles, uiie nialadic liepatiipie, (jui fait gonfler lour ibic," etc. p. 206.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 297
Off the leather hke china; with coat, too, that draws On the tailor, who suffers, a martyr's applause ! — With head bridled up, like a four-in-hand leader, And stays — devil's in them — too tight for a feeder, I strut to the old Cafe Hardy, which yet Beats the field at a dejeuner a la fourchette. There, Dick, what a breakfast! — oh, not like your
ghost Of a breakfast in England, your crust tea and toast ; *
* Is Mr. Bob aware that liis contempt for tea renders him liable to a charge of atheism? Such, at least, is the opinion cited in Christiaii. Fahlei: Amcenitat. PhUolog. — " Atheum interpretabntur homineu ad lierba The aversum." He would not, I think, have been so irreverent to this beverage of scholars, if he had read Peter PetWs Poem in praise of Tea, addressed to the learned Huet — or the Epigraphe which PedtUnus wrote for an altar he meant to dedicate to this herb — or the Anacreontics of Peter Francius, in which he calls Tea
Qeav, ^eTjv, dsaivav.
The following passage from one of these Anaci-eontics will, I have no doubt, be gratifying to all true Theists. Gcoif, -dtuv re na-pi, Ev xpvosot^ aKv<poLai Ai&oi TO VEK-ap 'H'^rj. i
2£ fioi diaKovocvTO l,Kv<poig ev fivppivoiai, T(j Ka7i7.Ei —pe—ovaai Ka?uug ;^;epe(rai Kovpai. Which may be thus translated : —
Yes, let Hebe, ever young,
High in heav'n her jiectar hold, And to Jove's immortal throng Pour the tide in cups of gold —
298 THK Fl'DGK lAMlLY IK PARIS.
But a si(le-lx)ard, you dog, where one's eye roves
about, Like ii Turk's in the Iluram, and thence singles out One's ^*r//t' of larks, just to tune up the throat. One's small limbs of" ehiokens, done en papillate, One's erudite cutlets, drest all ways but plain, Or one's kidneys — imagine, Dick — done Avith
champagne ! Then, some glasses of JScaune, to dilute — or, may- hap, Chamhertln,* which you know's the pet tipple of
Nap, And which Dad, by the by, that legitimate stickler, Much scruples to taste, but /'m not so partic'lar. — Your coffee comes next, by prescription : and then,
DiCK,'s The coffee's ne'er-failing and glorious appendix, (If books had but such, my old Grecian, depend on't I'd swallow ev'n Watkins', for sake of the end on't,) A neat glass o^ parfalt-amour which one sips Just as if bottled velvet f tipp'd over one's lips. This repast being ended, and paid for — (how odd! Till a man 's us'd to paying, there 's something so queer in't !) —
/■// not envy heaven's Princes, While, witli sn<iu v liands, for me,
Katk the china tea-cup riii<es, And pours out her best Bohea !
* Tlie favourite wine of Napoleon, t Vdours en boutcille.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 299
The sun now well out, and the girls all abroad, And the world enough air'd for us. Nobs, to ap- pear in't, "We lounge up the Boulevards, where — oh, Dick,
the phyzzes, The turn-outs, we meet — Avhat a nation of quizzes ! Here toddles along some old figure of fun. With a coat you might date Anno Domini 1. ; A lac'd hat, worsted stockings, and — noble old soul ! A fine ribbon and cross in his best button-hole ; Just such as our Prince, who nor reason nor fun
dreads, Inflicts, without ev'n a court-martial, on hundi-eds.* Here trips a grisette, with a fond, roguish eye, (Rather eatable things these grisettes by the by) ; And there an old demoiselle, almost as fond, In a silk that has stood since the time of the Fronde. There goes a French Dandy — ah, Dick! unlike
some ones We've seen about White's — the Mounseers are but
rum ones ; Such hats ! — fit for monkies — ^I'd back Mrs. Draper To cut neater weather-boards out of brown paper : And coats — how I wish, if it wouldn't distress 'em. They 'd club for old Brumjiel, from Calais, to dress 'em!
* It was said by Wicquefort, more than a hundred years ago, " Le Roi d'Angleterre fait seul plus de chevaliers que tous les autres Rois de la Chr^tient^ ensemble." — What would he say now?
300 THE l^UDGE FAMILY IX PAUIS.
The collar sticks out from the neck such a space,
That you'd swear 'twas the plan of this head- lopping nation, To leave there behind them a snug little place
For the head to drop into, on decapitation. In short, what with mountebanks, counts, and friseurs, Some mummers by trade, and the rest amateurs — What with captains in new jockey-boots and silk breeches,
Old dustmen with swinging great opera-hats, And shoeblacks reclining by statues in niches,
There never was seen such a race of Jack Sprats !
From the Boulevards — but hearken! — yes — as
I'm a sinner. The clock is just striking the half-hour to dinner : So no more at present — short time for adorning — My Day must be finish'd some other fine morning. Now, hey for old Beauvilliers'* larder, my boy! And, once there, if the Goddess of Beauty and Joy Were to write " Come and kiss me, dear Bob ! " I'd
not budge — Not a step, Dick, as sure as my name is
R. Fudge.
* A celebrated restaurateur.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 301
LETTER IV.
FROJI PHELIM COSXOR TO
" Return ! " — no, never, while the withering hand Of bigot power is on that hapless land ; While, for the faith my fiithers held to God, Ev'n in the fields where free those fathers trod, I am proscrib'd, and — like the spot left bare In Israel's halls, to tell the proud and fair Amidst their mirth, that Slavery had been there — On all I love, home, parents, friends, I trace The mournful mark of bondage and disgrace ! No ! — let them stay, w^ho in their country's pangs See nought but food for factions and harangues ; Who yearly kneel befoi-e their masters' doors. And hawk their wrongs, as beggars do their sores: t Still let your
CO'
* * * * *
Still hope and suffer, all who can ! — but I, Who durst not hope, and cannot bear, must fly.
" They used to leave a yard square of the wall of the house unplastered, on which they write, in large letters, either the fore- mentioned verse of the Psalmist, ('If I forget thee, 0 Jerusalem,' etc.) or the words — ' The memory of the desolation.' " — Leo oj Modena.
t I have thought it prudent to omit some parts of Mr. Phelim Connor's letter. He is evidently an intemperate young man, and has associated with his cousins, the Fudges, to very little pur- pose.
302 TIIK I'UDGi: FAMILY IN I'ARIS.
But whither ? — everywhere the scourge pursues — Turn where he will, the wretched wjuulerer views, In tlie bright, broken hojMis of all his race, Countless reflections of th' Oppressor's face. Everywhere gallant hearts, and spirits true. Are serv'd up victims to the vile and few ; While England, everywhere — the general foe Of Truth and Freedom, wheresoe'er they glow — Is first, when tyrants strike, to aid the blow.
Oh, England ! could such poor revenge atone
For wrongs, that well might claim the deadliest
one ; "Were it a vengeance, sweet enough to sate The wi-etch who flies from thy intolerant hate, To hear his curses on such barbarous sway, Echoed, where'er he bends his cheerless way ; — Could this content him, every lip he meets Teems for his vengeance with such poisonous sweets ; Were this his luxury, never is thy name Pronounc'd, but he doth banquet on thy shame ; Hears maledictions ring from every side Upon that grasping power, that selfish pride. Which vaunts its own, and scorns all rights beside ; That low and desperate envy, which to blast A neighbour's blessings, risks the few thou hast ; — That monster, Self, too gross to be conceal'd, Which ever lurks behind thy proffer'd shield ; — That faithless craft, which, in thy hour of need, Can court the slave, can swear he shall be freed,
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 303
Yet basely spurns him, when thy point is gain'd,
Back to his masters, ready gagg'd and chain'd !
Worthy associate of that band of Kings,
That royal, rav'ning flock, whose vampire wings
O'er sleeping Europe treacherously brood,
And fan her into dreams of promis'd good,
Of hope, of freedom — but to drain her blood !
If thus to hear thee branded be a bliss [this,
That Vengeance loves, there 's yet more sweet than
That 'twas an Irish head, an Irish heart,
Made thee the fall'n and tarnish'd thing thou art ;
That, as the centaur * gave th' infected vest
In which he died, to rack his conqueror's breast.
We sent thee Castlereagh: — as heaps of dead
Have slain their slayers by the pest they spread,
So hath our land breath'd out, thy fame to dim.
Thy strength to waste, and rot thee, soul and limb,
Her worst infections all condens'd in him !
****** AVhen will the world shake off such yokes ? oh, when Will that redeeming day shine out on men, That shall behold them rise, erect and free As Heav'n and Nature meant mankind should be ! When Reason shall no longer blindly bow To the vile pagod things, that o'er her brow. Like him of Jaghernaut, drive trampling now ;
Membra et Herculeos toros Urit lues Nessea. lUe, ille victor vincitur.
Sexec. Hercid. (El.
304 TIIK FUDGK FAMILY IX PARIS.
Nor Conquest dare to desolate God's earth ; Nor drunken Victory, with a Nicuo's mirtli, Strike licr lewd harp amidst a people's groans; — But, built on love, the world's exalted thrones Shall to the virtuous and the wise be siven — Those bright, those sole Legitimates of Heaven !
When will this be? — or, oh! is it, in truth, But one of those sweet, day -break dreams of youth, In which the Soul, as round her morning springs, 'Twixt sleep and waking, sees such dazzling things! And must the hope, as vain as it is bright, Be all resigned? — and are the?/ only right. Who say this world of thinking souls w'as made To be by Kings partition'd, truck'd, and weigh'd In scales that, ever since the world begun. Have counted millions but as dust to one ? Are i/tet/ the only wise, who laugh to scorn The rights, the freedom to which man was born ? "Who *****
******
AVho, proud to kiss each sejiarate rod of power. Bless, while he reigns, the minion of the hour; "Worship each w^ould-be God, that o'er them moves, And take the thundering of his brass for Jove's ! If this be wisdom, then farewell, my books, Farewell, ye shrines of old, ye classic brooks, .AVhich fed my soul with currents, pure and fnii-. Of living Truth, that now mu?t stagnate there! — Instead of themes that touch the Ivre with li^ht. Instead of Greece, and her immortal fight
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 305
For Liberty, which once awak'd my strings, "Welcome the Gi'and Conspiracy of Kings, The High Legitimates, tlie Ploly Band, "Who, bolder even than He of Sparta's land, Against whole millions, panting to be free, Would guard the pass of right-line tyranny. Instead of him, th' Athenian bai*d, whose blade Had stood the onset which his pen pourtray'd, "Welcome *****
^ ¥^ ■^ TJf -Sf "Sffr
And, 'stead of Aristides — woe the day
Such names should mingle ! — welcome Castlereagh !
Here break we off, at this unhallow'd name,* Like priests of old, when words ill-omen'd came. My next shall tell thee, bitterly shall tell. Thoughts that * * * *
Thoughts that — could patience hold — 'twere Aviser To leave still hid and burning where they are.
* The late Lord C. of Ireland had a curious theory about names; he held that every man with ih-ee names was a jacobin. His instances in Ireland were numerous : — viz. Archibald Ham- ilton Rowan, Theobald Wolfe Tone, James Napper Tandy, John Philpot Curran, etc. etc. and, in England, he produced as ex- amples Charles James Fox, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, John Home Tooke, Francis Burdett Jones, etc. etc. The Romans called a thief "homo trinm literarum." Tun' trium literarum homo Me vituperas ? Fur.^
Plautus, Aulular. Act ii. Scene 4.
1 Dissaldeiis supposes this word to be glossema: — that is, he think? " Fur ■■ has made his escape from the margin into the text.
VOL. II. 20
30G THE FL'DOE FAMILY I\ PARIS.
LETTER V.
FROJI MISS BIDDY FL'DGE TO MISS DOROTHY ■
What a time since I wrote I — I'm a sad, naughty
For, tliOLigh, like a tee-totum, I'm all in a twirl ; — Yet e\'^ia (jus you wittily say) a tee-totum Between all its twirls gives a letter to note 'em. But, Lord, such a place ! and then, Dolly, my
dresses, ,
]My gowns, «o divine ! — there 's no language ex- presses, Except just two words "superbe," " magnifique," The trimmings of" that which I had home last week . It is call'd — I forget — a la — something which
sounded Like alicampmie — but, in truth, I'm confounded And bother'd, my dear, 'twixt that troublesome boy's (Boil's) cookery language, and Madame le Roi's : What with tillets of roses, and fillets of veal. Things garni witli lace, and things garni with eel, One's hair and one's cutlets both en jxtpillote. And a thousand more tilings I shall ne'er have by
rote, I can scarce tell the diff'rence, at least as to phrase, 3etween beef a la Psi/r/ie and curls a la braise. — But, in short, dear, I'm trick'd out quite ;\ la Fran- gaise,
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 307
"With my bonnet — so beautiful ! — high up and
poking', Like things that are put to keep chimnies from
smoking.
Where shall I begin with the endless delights Of this Eden of milliners, monkies, and sights — This dear busy place, where there's nothing trans- acting But dressing and dinnering, dancino; and acting ? Imprimis, the Opera — mercy, my ears !
Brother BoBBy's remark, t'other night, was a true one ; — " This must be the music," said he, " of the spears, "For I'm curst if each note of it doesn't run through one ! " Pa says (and you know, love, his Book's to make
out 'T was the Jacobins brought every mischief about) That this passion for roaring has come in of late. Since the rabble all tried for a voice in the State. — What a friglitful idea, one's mind to o'erwhelm ! What a cliorus, dear Dolly, would soon be let loose of it. If, when of age, every man in the realm
Had a voice hke old La'Is,* and chose to make use of it!
* The oldest, most celebrated, and most noisy of the singers at the French Opera.
308 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
No — never Avas known in this riotous sphere Sucli a breach of the peace as their singing, my dear. So bad too, yon 'd swear that the God of both arts,
Of Music and Physic, had taken a frolic For setting a loud fit of asthma in parts.
And composing a fine rumbling base to a cholic !
But, the dancing — ah parlez-moi, Dolly, de ga — There, indeed, is a treat that'Cliarms all but Papa. Such beauty — sucli grace — oh ye sylphs of ro- mance !
Fly, fiy to TiTAXiA, and ask her if slie has One light-footed nymph in her train, that can dance,
Like divine Bigottixi and sweet Fanny Bias ! Fanny Bias in Floiia — dear creature ! — you'd swear
"When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round, That her steps are of liglit, that her home is the air,
And she OYtXjpar complaisance touches the ground. And when Bigottixi in Psyche dishevels
Her black flowing hair, and by daemons is driven, Oh ! who does not envy those rude little devils,
That hold her and hug her, and keep her from heaven ? Then, the music — so softly its cadences die, So divinely — oh, Dolly ! between you and I, It's as well for my peace that there's nobody nigh To make love to me then — yoiCve a soul, and can judge [Fudge !
What a crisis 'twould be for your friend Biddy
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 309
The next place (which Bobby has near lost his
heai't in) Thej call it the Play-house — I think — of St.
Martin ; * Quite charming — and very i-eligious — what folly To say that the French are not pious, dear Dolly, When here one beholds, so correctly and rightly, The Testament turn'd into melo-drames nightly ; f And, doubtless, so fond they 're of scriptural facts, They will soon get the Pentateuch up in fi\e acts. Here Daniel, in pantomime,+ bids bold defiance To Nebuchadnezzar and all his stufF'd lions, "While pretty young Israelites dance round the
Prophet, In very thin clothing, and hut little of it ; —
* The Theatre de la Porte St. Martin, which was built when the Opera House in the Palais Royal was burned down, in 1781. — A few days after this dreadful fire, which lasted more than a week, and in which several persons perished, the Parisian elegantes displaj-ed flame-coloured dresses, "couleur de feu d'Op^ra! " — Dulaure, Shiriosites de Paris.
t "The Old Testament," says the theatrical Critic in the Gazette de France, " is a mine of gold for the managers of our small plaj--houses. A multitude crowd round the Theatre de la Gaiet^ every evening to see the Passage of the Red Sea."
In the play-bill of one of these sacred melo-drames at Vienna, we find " The Voice of God, b}' M. Schwartz."
X A piece very popular last year, called " Daniel, ou La Fosse aux Lions." The following scene will give an idea of the daring sublimity of these scriptural pantomimes. "Scene 20. — La fournaise devient un berceau de nuages azures, au fond duquel est un grouppe de nuages plus lumineux, et au milieu '.leliovali' au centre d'un cercle de rayons brillans, qui annonce la presence de I'Eternel."
310 THE FfUGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
Here Begrand,* who shines in this scriptural path,
As the lovely SusANNA, without ev'n a relic Of drai)ery round lier, comes out of the bath
In a manner that, Bop. says, is (piite Kre-angelic ! But in short, dear, 't would take me a month to recite All the exquisite places we 're at, day and night ; And, besides, ere I finish, I think you'll be glad Just to hear one delightful adventure I've had.
Last night, at the Beaujon,t a place where — I doubt If its charms I can paint — there are cars, that set
out From a lighted pavilion, high up in the air, [where. And rattle you down Doll — you hardly know These vehicles, mind me, in which you go through This delightfully dangerous journey, hold two. Some cavalier asks, with humility, whether
You'll venture down with him — you smile — 'tis
a match ;
In an instant you're seated, and down both together
Go thund'ring, as if you went post to old scratch ! J
"Well, it was but last night, as I stood and remark'd
On the looks and odd ways of the girls who embark'd,
* Madame B<?grand, a finely formed woman, who acts in " Susanna and the Klders," — " L' Amour et la Folie," etc. etc.
t The Promenades Aeriennes, or French Mountains. — Sec a deRori]itii)n of this singular and fantastic place of amusement in a paniplilet truly worthy of it, by " F. F. Cotterel. M(5decin, Docteur de la Faculte de Paris," etc. etc.
J According to Dr. Cotterel the cars go at the rate of forty- eight miles an hour
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 311
The impatience of some for tlie perilous flight,
The forc'd giggle of others, 'twixt pleasure and
fright, — That there came up — imagine, dear Doll, if you
can — A fine sallow, sublime, sort of Werter-fac'd man, With mustachios that gave (what we read of so
oft) The dear Corsair expression, half savage, half soft, As Hyaenas in love may be fancied to look, or A something between Abelard and old Blucher ! Up he came, Doll, to me, and, uncovering his head, (Rather bald, but so warlike !) in bad English said, " Ah ! my dear — if Ma'mselle vil be so very good — Just for von littel course" — though I scarce under- stood "What he wish'd me to do, I said, thank him, I would. Off we set — and though 'faith, dear, I hardly knew whether My head or my heels were the uppermost then, For 'twas like heav'n and earth, Dolly, coming together, — Yet, spite of the danger, we dar'd it again. And oh ! as I gaz'd on the features and air
Of the man, who for me all this peril defied, I could fancy almost he and I were a pair
Of unhappy young lovers, who thus, side by side. Were taking, instead of rope, pistol, or dagger, a Desperate dash down the falls of Niagara !
312 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
This achiev'd, through the gardens * \vc saunter'd about, Saw the lire-works, cxckxim'd " maguitique ! " at each cracker, And, when 'twas all o'er, the dear man saw us out "With the air I will say, of a Prince, to onv Jiacre.
Now, hear me — this Stranger — it may be mere
lolly — But loho do you think we all think it is, Dolly ? Why, bless you, no less than the great King of
Prussia, Who 's here now incog-t — he, who made such a
fuss, YOU
Remember, in London, with Butcher and Pla-
TOFF,
When Sal was near kissing old Bluciier's cravat
off! Pa says he 's come here to look after his money, (Not taking things now as he us'd under Boney,)
* III the Ciifc attnclieJ to these gardens there arc to be (as Doctor Cotlcrel informs us) "douze ii6gres, tr6s-alertes, qui con- tnistcront par Tt'liene de leur peau avec le teint de lis et de roses de, nos Ix'llos. Les ghiccs et les sorbets, servis par vine main hien noire, fcra davantage ressortir I'albatre des bras arrondis de cclles-ci." — P. 22.
t His ninjesty, wjio was at Paris under tlic travelling name of Count Ruppin, is known to have gone down tlie Beaujon very frequently.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 313
Which suits with our friend, for Bob saw him, he
swore. Looking sharj) to the silver receiv'd at the door. Besides, too, they say that his grief for his Queen (Which was plain in this sweet fellow's face to be
seen) Requires such a stimulant dose as this car is, Us'd thi-ee times a day with young ladies in Paris. Some Doctor, indeed, has declar'd that such grief Should — unless 'twould to utter despairing its folly push — Fly to the Beaujon, and there seek relief
By rattling, as Bob says, " like shot through a holly-bush."
I must now bid adieu ; — only think, Dolly, think If this should be the King — I have scarce slept a
wink With imagining how it will sound in the papers,
And how all the Misses my good luck will grudge, When they read that Count Ruppin, to drive away vapours, Has gone down the Beaujon with Miss Biddy Fudge.
Nota Bene. — Papa's almost certain 'tis he — For he knows the Legitimate cut, and could see. In the way he went poising and manag'd to tower So erect in the car, the true Balance of Power.
314 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN" PAKIS.
LETTER VI.
FROM rillL. FUDGE, ESQ. TO HIS BROTHER TI.M FUDGE, ESQ. B.VRRISTER AT LAW.
Yours of the 12th receiv'd just now — Thanks for the hint, my trusty brother!
'Tis truly pleasing to see how
AVe, Fudges, stand by one anotlier.
But never fear — I know my eliap,
And he knows me too — verhum sap.
My Lord and I are kindred spirits,
Like in our ways as two young ferrets;
Both fashion'd, as that supple raee is,
To twist into all sorts of places; —
Creatures lengthy, lean, and hungering,
Fond of blood and burrow-u\on"(tv\n".
As to my Book in 91,
Call'd "Down with Kings, or. Who'd have thought it ? " Bless you, the Book's long dead and gone, —
Not ev'n th' Attorney-General boujrht it. And, though some few seditious tricks I play'd in II') and 0, As you remind me in your letter. His Lordship likes me all the better; — "We proselytes, that come with news full, Are, as he says, so vastly useful !
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 315
Reynolds and I — (you know Tom Reynolds —
Drinks his claret, keeps his chaise — Lucky the dog that first unkennels
Traitors and Luddites now-a-days ; Or who can help to hag a few, "When SiDMOUTH wants a death or two ;) Reynolds and I, and some few more,
All men, like us, of information, Friends, whom his Lordship keeps in store,
As zmrfer-saviours of the nation — * Have form'd a Club this season, where ' His Lordship sometimes takes the chair, And gives us many a bright oration Li praise of our sublime vocation ; Tracing it up to great King Midas, Who, though in fable typified as A royal Ass, by grace divine And right of ears, most asinine. Was yet no more, in fact historical,
Than an exceeding well-bred tyrant ; And these, his ears, but allegorical,
Meaning Informers, kept at high rent- — f
* Lord C.'s tribute to the character of his friend, Mr. Eey- nolds, will long be remembered with equal credit to both.
t This interpretation of the fable of Midas's ears seems th^ most probable of any, and is thus stated in Hoflmann : — "Hac allegoria significatnm, Midam, utpote tyrannum, subausculta- tores dimittere solitum, per quos, qusecunque per omnem regio- nem vel fierent, vel dicerentur, cognosceret, nimirum illis utens aurium vice."
31G THE FUDGE lAMILV IX I'AUIS.
Gem'mcii, avIio touched the Treasury glisteners, Like u?, for being trusty listeners ; And picking up each tale and fragment, For royal Midas's Green Bag meant. " And wherefore," said this best of Peers, " Should not the Regent too have ears,* " To reach as far, as long and wide as " Those of his model, good King Midas ? " This speech was thougiit extremely good, And (rare for him) was understood — Instant we drank "The Regent's Ears," With three times three illustrious cheers,
"Which made the room resound like thunder — "The Regent's Ears, and may he ne'er " From foolish shame, like Midas, wear
" Old paltry tvigs to keep them under ! " f This touch at our old friends, the Whigs, Made us as merry all as grigs.
• Brossette, in a note on this line of Boileau,
" Midas, le Roi Midas, a des oreilles d'Ane,"
tells u?, that " M. Perranlt le Mc-decin vonlut faiie a notre au- teur nil crime d'otat de ce vers, comme d'une maligiic allusion au Roi." I trust, however, that no one will sUspect the line in the text of any such indecorous allusion.
•[■ It was not under wigs, but tiaras, that King Midas endeav- oured to conceal these appendages : —
Tempora purpureis tcntat velare tiaris.
Ovid.
The Noble Giver of the toast, however, had evidenth', with his usual clearness, confounded King Midas, Mr. Listen, and the Prince Regent together.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. ■ 317
In short (I'll thank you not to mention
These things again), we got on gaily ; And, thanks to pension and Suspension,
Our little Club increases daily. Castles, and Oliver, and such, "Who do n't as yet full salary touch, Nor keep their chaise and pair, nor buy Houses and lands, like Tom and I, Of course do'nt rank with us, salvators,* But merely serve the Club as waiters. Like Knights, too, we've our collar days, (For us, I own, an awkward jihrase,) "When, in our new costume adorn'd, — The Regent's buff-and-blue coats turn'd — "We have the honour to give dinners
To the chief Rats in upper stations f ; Your W TS, V NS, — half fledg'd sinners,
"Who shame us by their imitations ; "Who turn, 'tis true — but what of that? Give me the useful peaching Rat ; N^ot things as mute as Punch, when bought, Whose wooden heads are all they 've brought ; "Who, false enough to shirk their friends.
But too faint-hearted to betray. Are, after all their twists and bends,
But souls in Limbo, damn'd half way.
* Mr. Fudge and his fiiends ought to go by this name — as the man who, some years since, saved the late Eight Hon. George Rose from drowning, was ever tifter called Salvator Eosa.
t This intimacy between the Eats and Informers is just as it should be — " ver^ dulce sodalitium."
318 Tnr, lunr.E family i\ pauis.
No, no, we nol)ler vciniin are A genus useful as we're i-are ; 'Midst all the things niiiaculoiis
Of which your natural liislori(>s brag, The rarest must be Kats like us.
Who let the cat out of the bag. Yet still these Tyros in the cause Deserve, I own, no small applause ; And they're by us receiv'd and treated With all due honours — only seated In th' inverse scale of their reward, The merely promised next my Lord ; Small pensions then, and so on, down,
Rat after rat, they graduate Through job, red ribbon, and silk gown,
To Chanc'llorship and Marquisate. This serves to nurse the ratting spirit ; The less the bribe the more the merit.
Our music 's good, you may be sure ; My Lord, you know, 's an amateur * — Takes every part with perfect ease,
Tliough to the Base by nature suited ; And, form'd for all, as best may please. For whips and bolts, or chords Jind keys, Turns from his victims to his glees,
And has them both well executed, f
* His Lordship, during one of the liusiest periods of liis Min- isterial career, took lessons three times a week from a celebrated music-master, in jrlee-singing.
t How .imply these two propensities of the Noble Lord would
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 319
Hertford, who, tho' no Rat himself,
Delights in all such liberal arts, Drinks largely to the House of Guelph,
And superintends the Corni parts. While Canning,* who'd hejirst by choice, Consents to take an tinder voice ; And Graves, t who well that signal knows, Watches the Volti Subitos-X
In short, as I've already hinted.
We take, of late, prodigiously ; But as our Club is somewhat stinted
For Gentlemen, like Tom and me, We'll take it kind if you 'U provide A few Squireens § from 't other side ; — Some of those loyal, cunning elves
(We often tell the tale with laughter),
have been gratified among that ancient people of Etruria, who, as Aristotle tells us. used to whip their slaves once a year to the sound of flutes !
* This Right Hon. Gentleman ought to give up his present alliance with Lord C, if upon no other principle than that which is inculcated in the following arrangement between two Ladies of Fashion : —
Says Clarinda, " though tears it may cost, It is time we should part, my dear Sue; For ymir character's totally lost. And /have not sufficient for tico ! " I The rapidity of this Noble Lord's transformation, at the same instant, into a Lord of the Bed-chamber and an opponent of the Catholic Claims, was truly miraculous.
J Turn instantly — a frequent direction in music-boolts. § The Irish diminutive of Squire.
320 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PAKIS.
Who us'd to hide the pikes tliemselves,
Then hang the fools who found them after. I doubt not you could find us, too, Some Orange Pursons that might do; Among the rest, we've heard of one, The Reverend — something — Hamilton, Who stuff'd a figure of himself
(Delicious thought !) and had it shot at, To bring some Papists to the shelf, *
That could n't otherwise be got at — K he'll but join the Association, We'll vote him in by acclamation.
And now, my brother, guide, and friend, This somewhat tedious scrawl must end. I've gone into this long detail,
Because I saw your nerves were shaken With anxious fears lest I should fail
In this new, hi/al, coui'se I've taken. But, bless your heart ! you need not doubt — We, Fudges, know what we're about. Look round, and say if you can see A much more tliriving family. There's Jack, the Doctor — night and day
Hundreds of patients so besiege him, You'd swear that all the rich and gay
Fell sick on purpose to oblige him. And while they think, the precious ninnies.
He's counting o'er their j)ulse so steady, The rogue but counts how many guineas
He 's fobb'd, for that day's work, abeady.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 321
I'll ne'er forget th' old maid's alarm,
When, feeling thus Miss Sukey Flirt, he
Said, as he dropp'd her slirivell'd arm,
" Damn'd bad this morning — only thirty ! "
a
Your dowagers, too, every one,
So gen'rous are, when they call him in, That he might now retii'e upon
The rheumatisms of three old women. Then, whatsoe'er your ailments are,
He can so learnedly explain ye 'em — Your cold, of coarse, is a catarrh,
Your headache is a hemi-cranmm : — His skill, too, in young ladies' lungs,
The grace with which, most mild of men, He begs them to put out their tongues.
Then bids them — put them in again : In short, there's nothing now like Jack ! —
Take all your doctors great and small, Of present times and ages back,
Dear Doctor Fudge is worth them all.
So much for physic — then, in law too, Counsellor Tim, to thee we bow ;
Not one of us gives more eclat to
Th' immortal name of Fudge than thou.
Not to expatiate on the art
With which you play'd the patriot's part,
Till something good and snug should offer ; - Like one, who, by the way he acts
VOL. 11. 21
322 THE FrDGK family IX PARIS.
Th' cnllghfning part of candle-snuffer,
The manager's keen eye attracts, And is promoted thence by him To strut in robes, Hke thee, my Tim ! — Who shall describe thy pow'rs of face, Thy well fee'd zeal in eveiy case. Or wrong or right — but ten times warmer (As suits thy calling) in the former — Thy glorious, lawyer-like delight In puzzling all that's clear and right, Which, though conspicuous in thy youth.
Improves so with a wig and band on, That all thy pride's to waylay Truth,
And leave her not a leg to stand on. Thy patent, prime, morality, —
Thy cases, cited from the Bible — Thy candour, when it falls to thee
To help in trouncing for a libel ; — " God knows, I, from my soul, profess
" To hate all bigots and benijihters ! " God knows, I love, to ev'n excess, " The sacred Freedom of the Press,
" My only aim's to — crush the writers." These are the virtues, Tim, that draw
The briefs into thy bag so fast ; And these, oh Tim — if Law be Law —
Will raise thee to the Bench at last.
I blush to see this letter's length — But 'twas my wish to prove to thee
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 323
How full of hope, and wealth, and strength.
Are all our precious family. And, should affairs go on as pleasant As, thank the Fates, they do at present — ■ Should we but still enjoy the sway Of SiDMOUTH and of Castlereagh, I hope, ere long, to see the day When England's wisest statesmen, judges, Lawyers, peers, will all be — Fudges !
Good-bye — my paper 's out so nearly, I've only room for Youi'S sincerely.
LETTER VII.
FROM PHELIM CONNOR TO -
Before we sketch the Present — let us cast A few, short, rapid glances to the Past.
"When he, who had defied all Europe's strength.
Beneath his own weak rashness sunk at length ; —
"When, loos'd, as if by magic, from a chain
That seem'd like Fate's, the world was fi'ee again,
And Europe saw, rejoicing in the sight,
The cause of Kings, ybr once, the cause of Right; —
Then was, indeed, an hour of joy to those
"Who sigh'd for justice — liberty — repose,
324 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
And liop'd the fall of one great vulture's nest Would ring its warning round, and scare the rest. All tlicn was bright with promise; — Kings began To own a sympathy with suticring IMan, And Man was grateful ; Patriots of the South Caught wisdom from a Cossack Emperor's mouth, And heard, like accents thaw'd in Northern air, Unwonted words of freedom burst forth there !
Who did not hope, in that triumphant time. When nionarchs, after years of spoil and crime, Met round the shrine of Peace, and Ileav'n look'd
on, — Wlio did not hope the lust of spoil was gone ; That that rapacious spirit, which had play'd The game of Pilnitz o'er so oft, was laid ; And I^urope's Rulers, conscious of the past. Would blush, and deviate into right at last ? But no — the hearts, that nursed a hope so fair, Had yet to learn what men on thrones can dare ; Had yet to know, of all earth's ravening things, The only quite untameable are Kings ! Scarce had they met when, to its nature true, The instinct of their race broke out anew ; Promises, treaties, charters, all were vain, And " Rapine ! rapine ! " was the cry again. How (piick they carv'd their victims, and how well, Let Saxony, let injur'd Genoa tell ; — Let all the human stock that, day by day, Was, at that Royal slave-mart, truck'd away, —
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 325
The million souls that, in the face of heaven, Were split to fractions,* barter'd, sold, or given To swell some despot Power, too huge before, And weigh down Europe with one Mammoth more. How safe the faith of Kings let France decide ; — Her charter broken, ere its ink had dried ; — Her Press enthrall'd — her Reason mock'd again With all the monkery it had spurn'd in vain ; Her crown disgrac'd by one, who dar'd to own He thank'd not France but England for his tin-one ; Her triumphs cast into the shade by those, Who had grown old among her bitterest foes, And now return'd beneath her conquerors' shields. Unblushing slaves ! to claim her heroes' fields ; To tread down every trophy of her fame, And curse that glory which to them was shame ! — ■ Let these — let all the damning deeds, that then Were dar'd through Europe, cry aloud to men. With voice like that of crashing ice that rings Round Alpine huts, the perfidy of Kings ; And tell the world, when hawks shall harmless
bear The shrinking dove, when wolves shall learn to
spare
*" Whilst the Congi-ess was re-constructing Europe — not according to rights, natural affiances, language, habits, or laws; but by tables of finance, which divided and subdivided her pop- ulation into souls, demi-souh, and even fractions, according to a scale of the direct duties or taxes, which could be levied by the acquiring state," etc. — Sketch of the Military and Political Power of Russia. The words on the protocol are ames, demi-ames, etc.
326 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
The helpless victim for whose blood they lusted, Then, and then only, monarchs may be trusted.
It could not last — these horrors could not last — France would herself have ris'n, in might, to cast Th' insulters off — and oli ! that then, as now, Chain'd to some distant islet's rocky brow, Napoleon ne'er had come to force, to blight, Ere half matur'd, a cause so proudly bright ; — To palsy patriot arts with doubt and shame, And Avrite on Freedom's flag a despot's name ; — To rush into the lists, unask'd, alone. And make the stake of all the game of one ! Then would the world have seen again what power A people can put forth in Freedom's hour ; Then would the fire of France once more have
blaz'd; — For every single sword, reluctant rais'd In the stale cause of an oppressive throne, Millions would then have leap'd forth in her own ; And never, never had th' unholy stain Of Bourbon feet disgrac'd lier shores again.
o
But fate decreed not so — th' Imperial Bii-d, That, in his ncigbouring cage, unfear'd, imstirr'd, Had seem'd to sleep with head beneath his wing, Yet watch'd the moment for a daring spring ; — Well might he watch, when deeds were done, that
made
His own transgressions wliit(Mi in their shade;
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 327
Well might lie hope a world, thus trampled o'er By clumsy tyrants, would be his once more : — Forth from his cage the eagle burst to light, From steeple on to steeple * wing'd his flight, "With calm and easy grandeur, to that throne From which a Royal craven just had flown ; And resting there, as in his a?rie, furl'd Those wings, whose very rustling shook the world !
"What was your fury then, ye crowu'd array, "Whose feast of spoil, whose plundering holiday Was thus broke up, in all its greedy mirth, By one bold chieftain's stamp on Gallic earth ! Fierce was the cry, and fulminant the ban, — " Assassinate, who will — enchain, who can, " The vile, the faithless, outlaw'd, low-born man I " " Faithless ! " — and this from you — from you, for- sooth, Ye pious Kings, pure paragons of truth. Whose honesty all knew, for all had tried ; Whose true Swiss zeal had serv'd on every side ; Whose fame for breaking faith so long was known. Well might ye claim the craft as all your own, And lash your lordly tails, and fume to see Such low-born apes of Royal perfidy ! Yes — yes — to you alone did it belong i
To sin for ever, and yet ne'er do wrong. — :
The frauds, the lies of Lords legitimate Are but fine policy, deep strokes of state ;
* "L'aigle volera de clocher en clocher, jusqu'aiix tours de Notre-Dame." — Napoleon's Proclamation on landing from Elba.
328 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PAKIS.
But let some upstart dare to soar so high
In Kiiiijly craft, and "outhi\v"is the cry!
"Wliut. tlioiigh long years of mutual treachery
Had peopled full your diplomatic shelves
With ghosts of treaties, murd^r'd 'mong yourselves ;
Though each by turns was knave and dujjc — what
then ? A Holy League would set all straight again ; Like Juno's virtue, which a dip or two In some bless'd fountain mad(! as good as new ! * Most faithful Russia — faithful to whoe'er Could plunder best, and give him amplest share ; "Who, ev'n when vanquish'd, sure to gain his ends, For Avant of foes to rob, made free with friends,^ And, deepening still by amiable gradations, When foes Avcre stript of all, then fleec'd relations! J Most mild and saintly Prussia — steep'd to th' ears In persecuted Poland's blood and tears, And now, with all her harpy wings outspread O'er sever'd Saxony's devoted head ! Pure Austria too — whose hist'ry nought repeats But broken leagues and subsidiz'd defeats ; Whose faith, as Prince, extinguisli'd Venice shows, Whose failh, as man, a widow'd daughter knows! And thou, oh England — who, though once as shy As cloister'd maids, of shame or perfidy,
* Singulis aiiiii^ in quodMiii Attic;<^ foiite Intii virgiiiitatem recuperasse fiiigitur.
t At the Peace of Tilsit, where he nliiUKloiieii liis ally, Prussia, to France, and received a iiortion of lier territory.
J. The seizure of Finland from iiis relative of Sweden.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN FARIS. 329
Art now h-oke in, and, thanks to Castlereagh, In all that's worst and falsest lead'st the way !
Such was the pure divan, whose pens and Avits,
Th' escape from Elba frighten'd into fits ; —
Such were the saints, who dooni'd Napoleon's
lifej In virtuous frenzy, to th' assassin's knife. Disgusting crew! — who would not gladly fly To open, downright, bold-fac'd tyranny. To honest guilt, that dares do all but lie, From the false, juggling craft of men like these, Their canting crimes and varnish'd villanies ; — These Holy Leaguers, who then loudest boast Of faith and honour, when they've stain'd them
most ; From whose affection men should shrink as loath As from their hate, for they'll be fleec'd by both ; Who, ev'n while plund'ring, forge Religion's name To frank their spoil, and, without fear or shame, Call down the Holy Trinity * to bless Partition leagues, and deeds of devilishness !
* The usual preamble of these flagitious compacts. In the same spirit, Catherine, after the dreadful massacre of Warsaw, ordered a solemn "thanksgiving to God in all the churches, for the blessings conferred upon the Poles;" and commanded that each of them should " swear fidelity and loyalt}- to her, aud to shed in her defence the last drop of their blood, as they should answer for it to God, and his terrible judgment, kissing the holy "word and cross of their Saviour! "
330 TIIK FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
But lioM — cnougli — soon wouM tliis swell of rage O'eriiow tlie boundaries of my seanty page ; — So, here I pause — farewell — another day, Return we to those Lords of pray'r and prey, Whose loathsome cant, whose frauds by right divine Deserve a lash — oh ! weightier far than mine !
LETTER VIII.
TROM MU. BpB FUDGE TO KICHAKD , ESQ.
Dear Dick, while old Donaldson's* mending
my stays, — Which I knew would go smash with me one of these
days. And, at yesterday's dinner, when, full to the throttle. We lads had begun our dessert with a bottle Of neat old Constanlia, on my leaning back Just to order another, by Jove I went crack ! — Or, as honest Tom said, in his nautical phrase, "D — n my eyes, Bob, m doubling i\\Q Cape youWe
miss'd stays." f So, of course, as no gentleman's seen out without
them, They're now at the Schneider's J — and, while he's
about them,
* An English tailor at Paris.
t A ship is said to miss staj-s, when she does not obey the helm in tacking.
t The dandy term for a tailor.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 331
Here goes for a letter, post-haste, neck and crop. Let us see — in my last I was — where did I stop ? Oh, I know — at the Boulevards, as motley a road as
Man ever would wish a day's lounging upon ; "With its cafes and gardens, hotels and pagodas, Its founts, and old Counts sipping beer in the sun: With its houses of all architectures you please, From the Grecian and Gothic, Dick, down by de- grees To the pure Hottentot, or the Brighton Chinese ; Where in temples antique you may breakfast or
dinner it, Lunch at a mosque, and see Punch from a minaret. Then, Dick, the mixture of bonnets and bowers, Of foliage and frippery, jiacres and flowers. Green-grocers, green gardens — one hardly knows
whether 'Tis country or town, they're so mess'd up together! And there, if one loves the romantic, one sees Jew clothes-men, like shepherds, reclin'd under trees ; Or Quidnuncs, on Sunday, just fresh from the bar- ber's, Enjoying their news and groseille * in those arbours;
* " Lemonade and eau-de-groseilk are measured out at every corner of cverj- street, from fantastic vessels jingling wich bells to thirsty tradesmen or wearied messengers." — See Lady Mor- gan's lively description of the streets of Paris, in her very amus- ing work upon France, book vi.
332 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
While gailj (heir wigs, like the tendrils, are curling, And founts of red curnint-juice * round them are })urling.
Here, Dick, arm in arm as we chattering stray, And receive a few civil " God-dems " by the way, — For, 'tis odd, these mounseers, — though we've
wasted our wealth And our strength, till we've thrown ourschos into
a phthisic, [health,
To cram down their throats an old King for their
As we whip little children to make them take
physic ; — Yet, spite of our good-natur'd money and slaughter. They hate us, as Beelzebub hates holy-water ! But who the deuce cares, Dick, as long as they
nourish us Neatly as now, and good cookery flourishes — Long as, by bay'nets protected, we, Natties, May have our full fling at their sahnis and pates ? And, truly, I always deelar'd 'twould be pity To burn to the ground such a choice-feeding city. Had J)<id but his wav, he'd have Ion;]; ajjo blown The whole batch to old Nick — and the people, I own, If for no other cause than their curst monkey looks, Well deserve a blow-up — but then, damn it, their
Cooks !
* These gay, portable fountains, from which the groseille water is administered, are among the most characteristic orna- ments of the streets of Paris.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 333
As to Marshals, and Statesmen, and all their whole lineage,
For aught that /care, you may knock them to spi- nage ;
But think, Dick, their Cooks — what a loss to man- kind!
What a void in the world would their art leave be- hind !
Their chronometer spits — their intense salaman- ders —
Their ovens — their pots, that can soften old ganders,
All vanish'd for ever — their miracles o'er,
And the Marmite Perpetuelle * bubbling no more !
Forbid it, forbid it, ye Holy AlUes !
Take whatever ye fancy — take statues, take money —
But leave them, oh leave them, their Perigueux pies. Their glorious goose-livers, and high pickled tunny ! f
Though many, I own, are the evils they've brought us. Though Royalty 's here on her very last legs,
* " Cette merveilleuse ^larmite Perpetuelle, sur le feu depuis pr6s d'uu siecle; qui a donn^ le jour a plus de 300,000 chapons." — Alnian. de Goui-rnands, Quatrieme Ann^c, p. 152.
t Le tlion marine, one of the most favourite and indigestible hors d'aiivres. This fish is taken chiefly in the Golfe de Lyon. " La tOte et le dessous du ventre sont les parties les plus recher- ch(5es des gourmets." — Cours Gasironomique, p. 252.
334 THE FLDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
Yet, who can help loving the land that has talight us Six hundred and eighty-five ways to dress eggs ? *
You see, Dick, in spite of their cries of " God-dam," " Cocjuin Anglais," et cajt'ra — how generous I am ! And now (to return, once again, to my " Day." Which will take us all night to get through in this
way,) From the Boulevards we saunter througli many a
street, Crack jokes on the natives — mine, all very neat — Leave the Signs of the Times to political fops, And find twice as much fun in the Signs of the
Shops ; — Here, a Louis Dix-huit — there, a Martinmas goose, (Much in vogue since your eagles are gone out of
use) — Henri Quatres in shoals, and of Gods a great many, But Saints are the most on hard duty of any : — St. Tony, who used all temptations to spurn, Here hangs o'er a beer-shop, and tempts in his turn ; While there St. Venecia f sits hemming and frilling
her Holy mouchoir o'er the door of some milliner ; —
* The exact number mentioned by M. de la Re3'ni^re — " On connoit en France 685 municres diflVrciites d'accomnioder les ceufs; sans compter celles que nos savans imaginent charjue jour."
t Veronica, the Saint of the Holy Ilaiidlcercliief, is also, under tlie name of Yenisse or Venecia, the tutelary saint of milliners.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 335
8Tiint Austin 's the " outward and visible sign
" Of an inward " cheap dinner, and pint of small
wine ; Wliile St. Dexys hangs out o'er some hatter of ton, And possessing, good bishop, no head of his own,* Takes an int'rest in Dandies, who've got — next to
none ! Then we stare into shops — read the evening's af-
Jiches — Or, if some, who 're Lotharios in feeding, should
wish Just to flirt with a luncheon, (a devilish bad trick, As it takes off the bloom of one's appetite, Dick,) To the Passage des — what d' ye call 't — des Pano- ramas t We quicken our pace, and there heartily cram as Seducing young pates, as ever could cozen One out of one's appetite, down by the dozen. We vary, of course — petits pates do one day. The next we've our lunch with the Gauffrier Hol-
landais, J That popular artist, who brings out, like Scott, His delightful productions so quick, hot and hot ;
* St. Benys walked tlu-ee miles after his head was cut off. The viot of a woman of ■«'it upon tliis legend is well known : — " Je le crois bien; en pareil cas, il n'y a que le premier pas qui coute."
t Off the Boulevards Italiens.
X In the Palais Eoyal; successor, I believe, to the Flamand, so long celebrated for the moelleux of his Gaufres.
336 TIIK FUDGE FAMILY IX PAKIS.
Not the worse for the exquisite comment that fol- lows, —
Divine inarcsquino, which — Lord, how one swal- lows !
Once moi'e, then, we saunter forth after our snack, or Subscribe a few francs for tlie })rice of njiao-e, And drive far away to the old Montagues Russes, Where we find a few twirls in the car of much use To regen'rate tlie hunger and thirst of us sinners, Who've laps'd into snacks — the perdition of dinners. And hei-e, Dick — in answer to one of your queries,
About which we. Gourmands, have had much discussion — I've tried all these mountains, Swiss, French, and Ruggieri's,
And think, for digestion,* there's none like the Russian ; So equal the motion — so gentle, though fleet —
It, in short, such a light and salubrious scamper is,
* Doctor Cotterel recommends, for this purjio^e, the Beaujon or French Mountains, and calls them " une niedecine aerienne, couleur de rose; " but I own I prefer the authority of Mr. Bob, who seems, from the following note found in his own hand-writ- ing, to have studied all these mountains very carefully: — Memoramla — The Swiss little notice deserves, While the fall at Ruggieri's is death to weak nerves ; And (whate'cr Doctor Cott'rel may write on the question) The turn at the Beaujon 's too sharp for digestion.
I doubt whether Mr. Bob is quite correct in accenting the second syllable of Euggieri.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 337
That take whom you please — take old Louis Dix-
HUIT,
And stuff him — ay, up to the neck — with stew'd
lampreys,* So wholesome these Mounts, such a solvent I've
found them, That, let me but rattle the Monarch well down them,. The fiend. Indigestion, would fly far away. And the regicide lampreys f be foiled of their prey !' Such, Dick, are the classical sports that content us. Till five o' clock brings on that hour so momentous, |
* A dish so indigestible, that a late novelist, at the end of his book, could imagine no more summary mode of getting rid of all his heroes and heroines than by a heart}' supper of stewed lampreys.
t They killed Henry I. of England : — "a food (says Hume, gravely,) which always agi-eed better with his palate th.^ii his constitution."
Lampreys, indeed, seem to have been always a favourite dish ■with kings — whether from some congeniality between them and that fish, I know not; but Dio Cassius tells us that Pollio fattened his lampreys with human blood. St. Louis of France was par- ticularly fond of them. — See the anecdote of Thomas Aquinas eating up his majesty's lamprey, in a note upon Rabdais, liv. iii. chap. 2.
X Had !Mr. Bob's Dinner Epistle been inserted, I was prepared with an abundance of learned matter to illustrate it, for which, as, indeed, for all my"scientia popinse," i I am indebted to a friend in the Dublin University, — whose reading formerly lay in the mayic line; but, in consequence of the Provost's en- lightened alarm at such studies, he has taken to the authors, " rfe re cibaria" instead; and has left Bod'm, Eemigms, Arjrippa and his little dog FUiolus, for Apicim, Nonius, and that uiost learned and savoury Jesuit, Bulengerus. ' 1 Seneca.
VOL. ji. 22
338 Tni-: fudge family ix tauis.
That epocli Imt woa ! my lad — here comes the
Schneider, [wider —
And, curse him, has made the stays tliree inches
Too wide by an inch and a half — what a Guy !
But, no matter — 'twill all be set right by-and-by.
As we've Massinot's * eloquent carte to eat still up,
An inch and a half's but a trifle to fill up.
So — not to lose time, Dick — here goes for the task ;
Aurevoir, my old boy — of the Gods I but ask,
Tliat my life, like " the Leap of the German," f may be,
" Du lit a la table, d'la table au lit ! "
LETTER IX.
FROM PHIL. FUDGE, ESQ. TO THE LORD VISCOIJXT CASTLEREAGH.
My Lord, th' Listructions, brought to-day, ' " I shall in all my best obey." Your Lordship talks and writes so sensibly ! And — whatsoe'er some Avags may say — Oil ! not at all incomprehensibly.
t A famous 'RpstannUcnir — now Dnpont. • An old riT'iich suyiiijr; — " Faire le saut de I'Allemand, du lit k la table et de hi table au lit."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 339
I feel til' inquiries in your letter
About my health and French most flattering ; Thank ye, my French, though somewiiat better,
Is, on the whole, but weak and smattermg : — Nothing, of course, that can compare With his who made the Congress stare (A certain Lord we need not name),
"Who ev'n in French, would have his trojje, And talk of "■ batir un systeme
" Sur V equiUbre de I'E^urope ! " Sweet metaphor ! — and then th' Epistle, Which bid the Saxon King go whistle, — That tender letter to " Mon Prince," * Which show'd alike thy French and sense ; — Oh no, my Lord — there 's none can do Or say im-EngUsh things like you ; And, if the schemes that fill thy breast
Could but a vent congenial seek, And use the tongue that suits them best,
What charming Turkish would'st thou speak ! But as for me, a Frenchless grub.
At Congress never born to stammer. Nor learn like thee, my Lord, to snub
Fall'u Monarchs, out of Chambaud's grammar — •
* The celebrated letter to Prince Hardenburgh (written, how- ever, I believe, originally in English,) in which his Lordship, professing to see "no moral or political objection" to the dis- memberraeiit of Saxony, denounced the unfortunate King as "not only the most devoted, but the most favoured of Bona- parte's vassals."
340 TIIK FLDGi: FAMILY IN PARIS.
Bless you, you do not, cannot know How far a little French will go ; For all one's stock, one need but draw
On some half-dozen words like these — • Comme ga — par-la — la-has — all ha!
They '11 take you all through France with ease.
Your Lordship's praises of the scraps
I sent you from my Journal lately, (Enveloping a few lac'd caps
For Lady C), delight me greatly. Her flattering speech — " What pretty things
" One finds in Mr. Fudge's pages ! " Is praise which (as some poet sings)
Would pay one for the toils of ages.
Thus flatter'd, I presume to send A few more extracts by a friend ; And I should hope they'll be no less Approv'd of than my last MvS. — The former ones, I fear, were creas'd,
As Biddy round the caps icoidd pin them ; But these will come to hand, at least
Unrumpled, for there's — nothing in them.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 341
Extracts from Mr. FuJijc's Journal, addressed to Lord C.
Aug. 10. "Went to the Mad-house — saw the man,*
Who thinks, poor wretch, that, while the Fiend Of Discord here full riot ran,
lie, like the rest, was guillotin'd ; — But that when, under Boney's reign,
(A more discreet, though quite as strong one,) The heads were all restor'd again.
He, in the scramble, got a wrong one. Accordingly, he still cries out
This strange head fits him most unpleasantly; And always runs, poor dev'l, about,
Inquiring for his own incessantly !
While to his case a tear I dropt.
And saunter'd home, thought I — ye Gods! How many heads might thus be swopp'd,
And, after all, not make much odds ! For instance, there's Vansittart's head — (" Tam canim " f it may well be said) If by some curious chance it came
* This extraordinaiy madman, is, I believe, in the BicC-tre. He imagines, exactly as Jlr. Fudge states it, that, when the heads of those who had been guillotined were restored, he by mistake got some other person's instead of his own.
t Tam carl capitis. — Horat.
342 TIIK rUDGE FAMILY IX PAIJIS.
To settle on Bill Soamks's * shoulders, Til' cH'cct would turn out much the same,
On all respectable cash-holders : Except that while, in its neto socket,
The head was planning schemes to win A zig-zag way into one's pocket,
The hands w^ould plunge directly in.
Good Viscount Sidmouth, too, instead Of his own grave, respected head, Might wear (for aught I see that bars)
Old Lady "Wiliielmina Fuump's — So while the hand sign'd Circulars,
The head might lisp out "What is trumps?"- The Regent's brains could Ave transfer To some robust man-milliner, Tlie shop, the shears, the lace, and ribbon Would go, I doubt not, quite as glib on ; And, vice versa, take the pains To give the Prince the shopman's brains, One only change from thence would flow, Jiibbuns would not be wasted so.
'Twas thus I ponder'd on, my Lord ;
And, ev'n at night, when laid in bed, I found myself, before I snor'd,
Thus chopping, swopping head for head.
* A celebrated pickpocket.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 343
At length I thought, fmitastic elf! How such a change would suit myself. 'Twixt sleep and waking, one by one,
With various pericraniums saddled, At last I tried your Lordship's on,
And then I grew completely addled — Forgot all other heads, od rot 'em ! And slept, and dreamt that I was — Bottom.
Aug. 21. Walk'd out with daughter Bid — was shown The House of Commons, and the Throne, "VThose velvet cushion 's just the same * Kapoleox sat on — what a shame ! Oh, can we wonder, best of sijeechers,
AVhen Louis seated thus we see, That France's " fundamental features"
Are much the same they us'd to be ? However, — God preserve the Throne,
And cushion too — and keep them free From accidents, Avhich hare been known
To happen ev'n to Royalty If
* The only change, if I recollect right, is the substitution of lilies for bees. This war upon the bees is, of course, universal ; "exitiura misere apibus," like the angry nymphs in Virgil: — but may not new swarms arise out of the licilms of Legitimacj' yet?
t I am afraid that Jlr. Fudge alludes here to a very awkward accident, which is well known to have happened to poor Louis le Desire, some years since, at one of the Regent's Fetes. Ho was sitting next our gracious Queen at the time.
344 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
Aug. 28. Read, at a stall (for oft ono pops On something at these stalls and shoj)s, That does to quote, and gives one's Book A classical and knowing look. — Indeed I've found, in Latin, lately, A course of stalls im})roves me greatly) — 'Twas thus I read, that, in the East,
A monarch's ya^'s a serious matter; And once in every year, at least.
He's weigh'd — to see if he gets fatter;,* Then, if a pound or two he be Increas'd, there's quite a jubilee ! f Suppose, my Lord — and far from me To treat such things with levity — But just suppose the Rkgkn't's weight Were made thus an affair of state ; And, ev'ry sessions, at the close, —
'Stead of a speech, which, all can see, is Heavy and dull enough, God knows —
We were to try how heavy he is.
* "Tlie third day of the Feast the King cauisetli himself to be ■weighed with great care." — F. Beri>i\'r''s Vuijfiye to Si/rnt, etc.
t " I remember," says Bernier, " that all the Omralis expressed great joy that the King weighed two pounds more now than the year preceding." — Another author tells us that "Fatness, as ■well as a very large head, is considered, throughout India, as one of the most precious gifts of heaven. An enormous skull is absolutely revered, and the happ\- owner is looked up to as a superior being. To a Prime a joulter head is invaluable." — Oriental Fitld Sjio)-is.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 345
Much would it glad all hearts to hear
That, while the xSation's Revenue Loses so many pounds a year,
The Prince, God bless him I gains a few.
With bales of muslin, chintzes, spices,
I see the Easterns weigh their Kings ; — But, for the Regent, my advice is,
"We should throw in much heavier things : For instance 's quarto volumes,
"Wliich, though not spices, serve to wrap them ; Dominie St — dd — t's Daily columns,
" Prodigious ! " — in, of course, we'd clap them — Letters, that Cartavright's * pen indites,
In which, with logical confusion. The Major like a Minor writes,
And never comes to a Conclusion : — Lord SoMERs' pamphlet — or his head — (Ah, that were worth its weight in lead !) Along with which we in may whip, sly. The Speeches of Sir John Cox Hippisly ; That Baronet of many words, Who loves so, in the House of Lords, To whisjier Bishops — and so nigh
Unto their wigs in whisp'ring goes, That you may always know him by
A patch of powder on his nose ! — If this wo'n't do, we in must cram The " Reasons " of Lord Buckingham ;
* Major Cartwright.
34G TIIK FUDGK FAMILY IX PAUIS.
(A Book his Lortlship means to write,
Entitled " Reasons for my Ratting : ") Or, should these prove too small and light.
His r p's a host — we'll bundle that iu!
And, still should all these masses fail To stir the Regent's ponderous scale, Why then, my Lord, in heaven's name,
Pitch in, without reserve or stint. The whole of R — GL — y's beauteous Dame —
li that wo' n't raise him, devil's in it!
Aug. 31. Consulted Murphy's Tacitus
About those famous spies at Rome, * Whom certain Wliigs — to make a fuss — Describe as much resembling us,t
Informing gentlemen, at home. But, bless the fools, they can H be serious, To say Lord Sidmouth's like Tiberius! What ! he, the Peer, that injures no man, Like that severe, blood-thirsty Roman I — 'Tis true, the Tyrant lent an ear to' All sorts of spies — so doth the Peer, too.
* The name of the first worthy who set up the trade of iu- former at Rome (to whom our Olivers and Castlesses ought to erect a statue) was Romanus Hispo; — "qui formam vitse iniit, quam postca cclebrem miseria^ temporum et audaciaj hominum feceruiit." — Tacit. Annal. i. 74.
t They certainly possessed the same art of inst'uiciiing their victims, which the llcport of the Secret Couuuittcc attributes to Lord Sidiuoutli's a<ients: — "«0(»/s (says Tacitus of one of them) libidiuum et necessitatum, quo jilurilms iitdiciis inliyareV
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 347
'T is true my Lord's Elect tell fibs, And deal in perj'ry — ditto Tib's. 'Tis true, the Tyrant screen'd and hid His rogues from justice * — ditto Sid. 'Tis true, the Peer is grave and ghb At moral speeches — ditto TiB.f 'Tis true, the feats the Tyrant did Were in his dotage — ditto Sid.
So far, I own, the parallel
'Twixt Tib and Sid goes vastly well ;
But there are points in Tib that strike
JMy humble mind as much more like
Yourself, my dearest Lord, or him.
Of th' India Board — that soul of whim !
Like him, Tiberius lov'd his joke,|
On matters, too, where few can bear one ; E. g. a man, cut up, or broke
Upon the wheel — a devilish fair one ! Your common fractures, wounds, and fits, Are nothing to such wholesale wits ;
* " Neqne tamen id Sereno noxte fuit, quem odium publicum tutiorem faciebat. Nam ut quis districtior accusator velut sacrb- sanctus erat." — Annal. lib. iv. 36. — Or, as it is translated by Llr. Fudge's friend, Murphy: — "This daring accuser had the curses of the people, and the protection of the Emperor. Informers, in proportion as they rose in guilt, became sacred characters."
t Murphy even confers upon one of his speeches the epithet " constitutional." Mr. Fudge might have added to his parallel, that Tiberius was a c/ood private character: — "egregium vita famaque quoad privaius."
J " Ludibria seriis permiscere solitus."
348 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS.
But, let tlie suff'rer gasp for life,
The joke is then worth any money ; And, if he wnthe beneath a knife, —
Oh dear, that's something quite too funny. In tliis respeet, my Lord, you see Tlie Roman wag and ours agree : Now as to your resemblance — mum —
This parallel we need not follow ; * Though 'tis, in Ireland, said by some
Your Lordship beats Tibeuius hollow ; Whips, chains — but these are things too serious
For me to mention or discuss ; Whene'er your Lordship acts TiUKiiius,
Phil. Fudge's part is Tacitus!
Sept. 2. Was thinking, had Lord Sidmoutii got Any good decent sort of Plot Against the winter-time — if not, Alas, alas, our ruin 's fated ; All done up, and spijlicated ! ' Ministers and all their vassals, Down from Castlekeagh to Castles, — Unless w^e can kick up a riot. Ne'er can hope for peace or quiet! What's to be done? — Spa-Fields was clever; But even that brought gibes and mockings
* There is one point of resemblance between Tiberius and Lord C. wliicli Jlr. Fudge m.i<j}d liave mentioned — '■'• suspema temper el obscura verba.^'
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 349
Upon our heads — so, mem. — must ncA'er
Keep ammunition in old stockings ; For fear some Avag should in his curst head Take it to say our force Avas worsted. Mem. too — when Sid an army raises, It must not be " incog." like Bayes's : Nor must the General be a hobbling Professor of the art of cobbling ; Lest men, who perpetrate such puns.
Should say, with Jacobinic grin. He felt, from soleing Wellingtons*
A Wellington's great soul within ! Nor must an old Apothecary
Go take the Tower, for lack of pence, With (what these wags would call, so merry.)
Physical force and p/nal-ence ! No — no — our Plot, my Lord, must be Next time contriv'd more skilfully. John Bull, I grieve to say is growing So troublesomely sharp and knowing, So wise — in short, so Jacobin — 'T is monstrous hard to take htm in.
Sept. 6. Heard of the fate of our Ambassador
In China, and was sorely nettled ; But think, my Lord, we should not pass it o'er
Till all this matter's fairly settled ;
* Short boots, so called.
350 THE rinoE iwmilv in pakis.
And here's the mode occurs to me: —
As none of our Nobility,
Though for their own most gracious King
(They would kiss hands, or — any thing),
Can be persuaded to go through
This farce-like trick of the Ko-tou ;
And as these Mandarins wo'ii't bend,
AVithout some mumming exhibition, Suppose, my Lord, you were to send
Gkimaldi to them on a mission: As LeyaiQ, Joe could play his part, And if, in diplomatic art. The " volto sciolto " * 's meritorious, Let Joe but grin, he has it, glorious ! A title for him's easily made ;
And, by-the-by, one Christinas time, If I remember right, he play'd
Lord Mo K LEY in some pantomime; — t As Earl of Morley then gazette him, IW other Earl of Morley '11 let him. (And why should not the world be blest "With two such stars, for East and West ?)
* The open cottntc nance, recommended by Lord Chesterfield.
t j\Ir. Fudge is a little mistaken here. It was not Grimaldi, but some very inferior pcrfornuT, who played tiiis jiart of " Lord Morley" in the pantomime, — so mueh to tiie horror of the dis- tinguished Earl of that name. The expostulatory letters of the Xoble Karl to Mr. II— rr— s, upon tiiis vulgar [jroHination of his spick-and-span new title, will, I trust, some time or other, be given to the world.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 351
Then, when before the Yellow Screen
He's brought — and, sure, the very essence Of etiquette would be that scene
Of Joe in the Celestial Presence ! — He thus should say : — " Duke Ho and Soo, "I'll play what tricks you please for you, " If you '11, in turn, but do for me " A few small tricks you now shall see. " If I consult your Emperor's liking, " At least you '11 do the same for my King." He then should give them nine such gi'ins, As Avould astound ev'n Mandai'ins ; And throw such somersets before
The picture of King George (God bless him !) As, should Duke Ho but try them o'er,
Would, by Confucius, much distress him !
I start this merely as a hint.
But think you'll find some Avisdom in't ;
And, should you follow up the job.
My son, my Lord (you Tcnoio poor Bob),
Would in the suite be glad to go
And help his Excellency, Joe ; —
At least, like noble Amherst's son,
The lad will do to practise on.*
* See Mr. Ellis's account of the Embassy.
352 TIIK FUDGE FAMILY IX PAKIS.
LETTER X.
FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MISS DOROTHY .
Wki.l, it isn't the King, after all, my dear creature; But don't you go laugh, now — there's nothing to
quiz in't — For grandeur of air and for grimness of feature, He might be a King, Doll, though, hang him, he
isn't. At first, I felt hurt, for I wish'd it, I own. If for no other cause but to vex Miss Malone, — (The great heiress, you know, of Shandangan, who 's
here. Showing off with such airs, and a real Cashmere,* While mine's but a paltry, old rabbit-skin, dear!) But Pa says, on deeply consid'ring the thing, " I am just as well pleas'd it should not be the King ; " As I think for my Biddy, so gentille andjolie, " Whose charms may their price in an honest way
fetch, " That a Brandenburgh " — (what is a Brandenburgh,
Dolly?) — " Would be, after all, no such very great catch. "If the Regent indeed — " added he, looking sly — (You remember that comical squint of his eye)
* See Lady Jlorgan's "France" for the anecdote, told her by Madame de Genlis, of the young gentleman whose love was cured by finding that his mistress wore a shawl "peau de lapin."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 353
But I stopp'd him with " La, Pa, how can you say so, " When the Eegent loves none but old women,
YOU know ! " Which is fact, my dear Dolly — we, girls of
eighteen. And so shm — Lord, he'd think us not fit to be
seen ; And would like us much better as old — ay, as old As (hat Countess of Desmoid, of whom I've been
told That she liv'd to much more than a hundred and ten, And was kill'd by a fall from a cherry-tree then ! What a frisky old girl ! but — to come to my lover, Who, though not a King, is a hero I '11 swear, — You shall hear all that's happen'd, just briefly run
over, [the air !
Since that happy night, when we whisk'd through
Let me see — 'twas on Saturday — yes, Dolly,
yes — From that evening I date the first dawn of my bliss; When we both rattled oflTin that dear httle carriao-e Whose journey. Bob says, is so hke Love and Mar
c^J
riage,
" Beginning gay, desperate, dashing, down-hilly, " And ending as dull as a six-uiside Dilly ! " * Well, scarcely a wink did I sleep the night through And, next day, having scribbled my letter to you,
* The cars, on the return, are dragged up slowly by a chain. VOL. II. 23
354 Till': FUDGE FAMII, V IN I'AKIS.
Witli Ji heart full of hope this sweet fellow to meet, I set out with Papa, to see Louis Dix-huit Make Ins bow to some half-dozen women and boys, Who g.et up a small concert of shrill Vive le JRois — And how vastly genteeler, my dear, even this is, Than vulgar Pall-lNIairs oratorio of hisses ! The gardens seem'd fiill — so, of course, we walk'd
o'er 'em, 'Mong orange-trees, clipp'd into town-bred decorum, And daphnes, and vases, and many a statue There staring, Avith not ev'n a stitch on them, at
you ! The ponds, too, we view'd — stood awhile on the brink To contemplate the play of those pretty gold fishes — " Live bullioji" says merciless Bob, " which, I think, " Would, if coin'd, with a little mint sauce, be de- licious ! " *
* Mr. Bob need not be ashamed of his cookery jokes, when he is kept in countenance by such men as Cicero, St. Ant/nstine, and that jovial bisliop, Veiiaiilius Foriunatus. The pun of the great orator upon the "jus Verrinum," which he calls bad hog- broth, from a play upon both the words, is well known; and the Saint's puns upon the conversion of Lot's wife into salt are equally ingenious: — "In salem conversa hominibus fidelibus quoddam praistitit condimentum, quo supiant aliquid, undo illud caveatur exempluin." — De Civitnt. Dei, lib. xvi. cap. 30. — The joke-; of the pious favourite of Queen Radagunda, the con- vivial 15ishop Venantius, may be found among his poems, in some lines against a cook who had robbed him. The following is similar to Cicero's pun : —
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 355
But what, DoLLT, what, is the gay oi'ange-grove, Or gold fishes, to her that 's in search of her love ? In vain did I wildly explore every chair Where a thing like a man was — no lover sate there ! In vain my fond eyes did I eagerly cast [past,
At the whiskers, mustachios, and wigs that went To obtain, if I could, but a glance at that curl, — A glimpse of those whiskers, as sacred, my girl, As the lock that. Pa says, * is to Mussulmen giv'n, For the angel to hold by that "lugs them to heaven!" Alas, there went by me full many a quiz, And mustachios in plenty, but nothing like his ! Disappointed, I found myself sighing out " well-a-
day,' — Thought of the words of Tom Moore's Irish Mel- ody,
VXvLS, juscella Coci quam mea/Mra valent. See his poems, CJorjms Poetar. Latin, torn. ii. p. 1732. — Of the same kind was Montmaur^s joke, when a dish was spilt over him — "summum jus, summa injuria; " and the same celebrated parasite, in ordering a sole to be placed before him, said, —
Eligi cui dicas, tu mihi sola places. f
The reader may likewise see, among a good deal of kitchen erudition, the learned Lipsius's jokes on cutting up a capon in his Saiurnal. Sermon, lib. ii. cap. 2.
* For this scrap of knowledge "Pa" was, I suspect, indebted to a note upon Volnej-'s Euins; a book which usually forms part of a Jacobin's library, and with which Mr. Fudge must have been well acquainted at the time when he wrote his '' Down with Kings," etc. The note in Volney is as follows: — "It is by this tuft of hair (on the crown of the head), worn by the ma- jority of Mussulmans, that the Angel of the Tomb is to take the elect and carry them to Paradise.
356 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PAKI3.
Sometliing about the " green spot of delight " * (Which, you know, Captain Macintosh sung to us one day) : Ah Dolly, my "t^pot" was that Saturday night, And its verdure, how fleeting, had wither'd by Sunday ! We din'd at a tavern — La, wliat do I say ?
If Bob was to know ! — a Restaurateur's, dear ; Where your properest ladies go dine every day. And drink Burgundy out of large tumblers, like beer. Fine Bob (for he's really grown stiper-Rne)
Condescended, for once, to make one of the party ; Of course, though but three, we had dinner for nine, And in spite of my grief, love, I own I eat hearty. Indeed, Doll, I know not how 'tis, but, in grief, I have always found eating a wond'rous relief; And Bob, who's in love, said he felt the same, quite — " My sighs," said he, " ceas'd with the first glass I drank you ; [ligl't,
" The lamb made me tranquil, the pu^s made me " And — now that all 's o'er — why, I 'm — pretty well, thank you ! "
" The young lady, wliose memorj' is not vciy correct, must al- lude, I think, to the following lines: —
Oh tliat fiiiry form is ne'er forgot,
Which First Love traced; Still it ling'ring haunts the greenest spot
On ^leraory's waste !
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 357
To my great annoyance, we sat rather late ; For Bobby and Pa had a furious debate About smging and cookery — Bobby, of course. Standing up for the latter Fine Art in full force ; * And Pa saying, " God only knows which is worst,
"The French Singers or Cooks, but I wish us well over it — " "What with old Lais and Very, I'm curst
" If my head or my stomach will ever recover it ! "
'T was dark, when Ave got to the Boulevards to stroll,
And in vain did I look 'mong the street Macaronis, When, sudden it struck me — last hope of my soul —
That some angel might take the dear man to ToR- TONi's ! t "We enter'd — and, scarcely had Bob, with an air.
For a grappe a la jardiniere call'd to the waiters, When, oh Doll ! I saw him — my hero was there
(For I knew his white small-clothes and brown leather gaiters).
* Cookery has been dignified by the researches of a Bacon ; (see his Natural History, Receipts, etc.) and tal^es its station as one of the Fine Arts in the following passage of Mr. But/aid Stew- art:— "Agreeably to this view of the subject, sweet may be said to be intrinsically pleasing, and bitter to be relatively pleasing; which both are, in many cases, equally essential to those effects, which, in the art of cookery, correspond to that compofite beauty, which it is the object of the painter and of the poet to create." — Philosophical Essays.
t A fashionable cafe glacier on the Italian Boulevards.
358 TIIF, FinCrE FAMILY IX PARIS.
A group of fair statues from Greece smiling o'er
liim,* And lots of red currant-juice sparkling before him ! Oh Dolly, these heroes — what creatures they ax"e ; In the boudoir the same as in fields full of slaughter ! As cool in the Beaujon's precipitous car,
As Avhen safe at Tortoni's, o'er ic'd currant Mater ! He join'd us — imagine, dear creature, my ecstasy — Join'd by the man I'd have broken ten necks to see ! Bob wish'd to treat him with Punch a la glace, But the sweet fellow swore that my beaute, my grace, And my Je-ne-sais-qiioi (then his whiskers he twirl'd) Were, to /«m, " on de top of all Ponch in de vorld." — How pretty! — though oft (as, of course, it must be) Both his French and his English are Greek, Doll,
to me. But, in short, I felt happy as ever fond heart did ; And happier still, Avhen 'twas fix'd, ere we parted, Tliat, if the next day should he pastoral weather, We all would set off, in French buggies, together, To see Montmorency — that place which, you know, Is so famous for cherries and Jean Jacques Rous- seau. His card then he gave us — the name, rather creas'd — But 'twas Calicot — something — a Colonel, at least !
* " You eat j'our ice at Tortoni's," says Mr. Scott, "under a Grecian group."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 359
After wliicli — sure thei'e never was hero so civil — he Saw us safe home to our door in Rue Ricoli, Where his last words, as, at parting, he threw A soft look o'er his shoulders, were — " How do you do ! " *
But, lord, — there's Papa for the post — I'm so
vext — Montmorency must now, love, be kept for my next. That dear Sunday night I — I was charmingly drest, And — so providential ! — was looking my best ; Such a sweet muslin gown, with a flounce — and my
frills, [bills)
You 've no notion how rich — (though Pa has by the And you'd smile had you seen, when we sat i*ather
near. Colonel Calicot eyeing the cambric, my dear. Then the flow'rs in my bonnet — but, la, it's in
vain — So, good-by, my sweet Doll — I shall soon wiite
asrain. B. F.
"o'
Nota bene — our love to all neighbours about — Your Papa in particular — how is his gout ?
P. S. — I 've just open'd my letter to say, [pray, In your next you must tell me, (now do, Dolly, For I hate to ask Bob, he 's so ready to quiz,) What sort of a thing, dear, a Brandetiburgh is.
* Not an unusual mistake with foreigners.
360 TllK FUDGE FAMILY IN PAUIS.
LETTER XI.
FROM PHELIM CONNOR TO
Yes, 'twas a cause, as noble and as great
As ever hero died to vindicate —
A Nation's right to speak a Nation's voice,
And own no power but of the Nation's clioice !
Such was the grand, the glorious cause that now
Hung trembling on Nai'OLEox's single brow ;
Such the sublime arbitrament, that pour'd,
In patriot i^ya^, a light around his sword,
A hallowing light, which nevei*, since the day
Of his young victories, had illum'd its way !
Oil 't was not then the time for tame debates, Ye men of Gaul, when chains were at your gates ; When he, who late had lied your Chieftain's eye, As geese from eagles on Mount Taurus fly,* Denounc'd against the land, that spurn 'd his chain, JNIyriads of swords to bind it fast again — Myriads of iierce invading swords, to track Through your best blood his path of vengeance back;
* See .Elian, lilj. v. cap. 29. — who tells us that these geese, from a consciousness of their own loquacity, ahvays cross Mount Taurus with stones in their bills, to prevent any unlucky cackle from betraying them to the eagles — {5ta:7tTorrai OTuTuiTfj.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 361
When Europe's Kings, that never yet combin'd
But (like those upper Stars, that, when conjoln'd,
Shed war and pestilence,) to scourge mankind,
Gather'd around, with hosts from every shore,
Hating Napoleon much, but Freedom more,
And, in that coming strife, appall'd to see
The world yet left one chance for liberty ! —
No 'twas not then the time to weave a net
Of bondage round your Chief ; to curb and fret
Your veteran war-horse, pawing for the fight,
"When every hope was in his speed and might —
To waste the hour of action in dispute,
And coolly plan how freedom's boughs should shoot,
When your Invader's axe was at the root!
No sacred Liberty ! that God, who throws
Thy liglit around, like his own sunshine, knows
How well I love thee, and how deeply hate
All tyrants, upstart and Legitimate —
Yet, in that hour, were France my native land,
I would have foUow'd, with quick heart and hand.
Napoleon, Nero — ay, no matter whom —
To snatch my country from that damning doom,
That deadliest curse that on the conquer'd waits —
A Conqueror's satrap, thron'd within her gates !
True, he was false — despotic — all you please — Had trampled down man's holiest liberties — Had, by a genius, form'd for nobler things Than lie within the grasp of vulgar Kings,
362 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
But rais'd the hopes of men — as eaglets fly With tortoises aloft into the sky — To dash them down again more shatteringly ! All this I own — but still * * *
^F ^p "V * 7|r "jlc
LETTER XII.
FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MISS DOROTHY
At la?t, Dolly, — thanks to a potent emetic, Which Bobby and Pa, with grimace sympathetic, Have swallow'd this morning, to balance the bliss, Of an eel matelote and a bisque d'ecrevisses — I've a morning at home to myself, and sit down To describe you our heavenly trip out of town. How agog you must be for this letter, my dear ! Lady Jane, in the novel, less langnish'd to hear If that elegant cornet she met at Lord Neville's Was actually dying with love or — blue devils. But Love, Dolly, Love is the theme /jjursue ; With lilue Devils, thank heav'n, I have nothing to do —
* Somebody (Fontenelle, I believe,) has said, tliat if he had his haii<l full of truths, he would open but one finj^er at a time; and the same sort of reserve I find to be necessary witii respect to Mr. Coimor's very plain-spoken letters. The remainder of this Epistle is so full of unsafe matter-of-fact, that it must, for the present at least, be withheld from the public.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PARIS. 363
Except, indeed, dear Colonel Calicot spies Any imps of that colour in certain blue eyes, "Which he stares at till /, Doll, at his do the same ; Then he simpers — I blush — and would often ex- claim, [shame I " If I knew but the French for it, "Lord, Sir, for
"Well, the morning was lovely — the trees in full
dress For the happy occasion — the sunshine express — Had we order'd it, dear, of the best poet going, It scarce could be furnish'd more golden and glowing. Though late when we started, the scent of the air "Was like Gattie's rose-water, — and, bright, here
and there, On the grass an odd dew-drop was glittering yet. Like my aunt's diamond pin on her green tabbinet ! "V\"hile the birds seem'd to wai'ble as blest on the
boughs. As if each a plum'd Calicot had for her spouse ; And the grapes were all blushing and kissing in
rows. And — in short, need I tell you, wherever one goes With the creature one loves, 'tis all couleur de rose ; And, ah, I shall ne'er, liv'd I ever so long, see A day such as that at divine Montmorency !
There Avas but one drawback — at first when we
started. The Colonel and I were inhumanly parted ;
oGi Tine FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.
How cruel — young hearts of such moments to rob ! He went in Pa's buggj'-, and I went with Bob ; And, I own, I felt spitefully happy to know That Papa and hi* comrade agreed but so-so. For the Colonel, it seems, is a stickler of Boxey's — Served with him of course — nay, I'm sure tliey
were cronies. So martial his features ! dear Doll, you can trace Ulm, Austerlitz, Lodi, as plain in his face As you do on tlint pilhir of glory and brass,* Which the poor Due de Bekri must hate so to pass ! It appears, too, he made — as most foreigners do — About English affairs an odd blunder or two. For example — misled by the names, I dare say — He confounded Jack Castles with Lord Castle-
REAGH ;
And — sure such a blunder no mortal hit ever on — Fancied the present Lord Cajidex the clever one !
But politics ne'er were the sweet fellow's trade ;
'Twas for war and the ladies my Colonel was made.
And, oh, liad you heard, as together we walk'd
Thro' that beautiful forest, how sweetly he talk'd ;
And how perfectly well he appear'd, Doll, to know
All the life and adventures of Jeax Jacques Rous- seau ! —
"'Twas there," said he — not that his loords I can state —
'Twas a gibl>'rish that Cupid alone could translate ; —
* Tlie column in the Place Vendome.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 365
But " thei-e," said he, (pointing where, small and re- mote, [wrote, — The dear Hermitage rose,) " there his Julie he " Upon paper gilt-edg'd,* -without blot or erasure ; " Then sanded it over with silver and azure, *' And — oh, what will genius and fancy not do ? — " Tied the leaves up together with nompareiUe blue ! " What a trait of Rousseau ! what a crowd of emotions
From sand and blue ribbons are conjur'd up here ! Alas, that a man of such exquisite f notions
Should send his poor brats to the Foundling, my dear !
"'Twas here, too, perhaps," Colonel Calicot said — As down the small garden he pensively led — (Though once I could see his sublime forehead
wrinkle With rage not to find there the lov'd periwinkle) J
* " Employant pour cela le plus beau papier dor^, s(?chaut I'^criture avec de la poudre d'azur et d'argent, et cousant mes cahiers avec de la nompareiUe bleue." — Les ConJ'essibns, part ii. liv. 9.
t This word, "exquisite," is evidently a fovourite of Miss Fudge's; and 1 understand she was not a little angry when her brother Bob committed a pun on the last two syllables of it in the following couplet : —
"I'd fain praise your Poem — but tell me, how is it When /cry out "Exquisite," £cho cries "quiz ii?"
I The flower which Eousseau brought into such fashion among the Parisians, by exclaiming one day, " Ah, voila de la pervenche ! "
366 THE FUDGE FAMILY IN I'AUIS.
"'Twas here he receiv'd from the fair D'Epixat " (Who caH'd liiin so sweetly Jier Bear,* ev^ry day,) " That dear flannel petticoat, pull'd off to form "A waistcoat, to keep the enthusiast warm ! " f
Such, Doll, were the sweet recollections we pon-
der'd, As, full of romance, through that valley we wander'd. The flannel (one's train of ideas, how odd it is I) Led us to talk about other commodities. Cambric, and silk, and — I ne'er shall forget, For the sun was then hast'ning in pomp to its set, And full on the Colonel's dark whiskers shone down, When he ask'd me, with eagerness, — who made my
gown ? [know,
The question confus'd me — for, Doll, you must And I ought to have told my best friend long ago. That, by Pa's strict command, I no longer employ | That enchanting couturiere, Madame le Roi ; But am forc'd now to have Victouine, who —
deuce take her ! — It seems is at present, the King's mantua-maker —
* " Mon mirs,vo\]h votre asyle — et vous, wwra mirs, ne vien- drez vous pas aussi?" — etc. etc.
t " Un jour, qu'il geloit tres fort, en ouvrant uii paquetqu'elle m'envoyoit, je trouvai un petit jupon de flanellc d'Aiijrlcterre, qu'elle me manpioit avoir portO, ct doiit clle vouloit que je me fisse faire un gilet. Ce soin, plus qu'amical, mc parut sitendre, comme si elle se fiit d(5pouillee pour me v(?tir, que, dans mon Amotion, je bai.-ai vingt fois en pleiu'aiit le billot ct le jupon."
t Miss Biddy's notions of French jjronunciation may be per- ceived in the rhymes which she always selects for " Le iJw."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. 367
T mean of his party — and, though much the smartest, Le Roi is condemn'd as a rank Bonapartist.* Think, Doll, how confounded I look'd — so well
knowing The Colonel's opinions — my cheeks were quite
glowing ; I stammer'd out something — nay, even half nam'd The legitimate sempstress, when, loud, he exclaim'd, "Yes, yes, by the stitching 'tis plain to be seen " It was made by that Bourbonite b rh, ViCTO-
RINE ! " What a word for a hero ! — but heroes ivill err, And I thought, dear, I 'd tell you things just as they
were. Besides, though the word on good manners intrench, I assure you 'tis not Iialf so shocking in French.
But this cloud, though embarrassing, soon pass'd away, And the bliss altogether, the dreams of that day. The thoughts that arise, when such deai- fellows woo
us, — The nothings that then, love, are every thing to us — That quick correspondence of glances and sighs, And what Bob calls the "Twopenny-post of the
Eyes" — Ah, Doll ! though I kno\o you've a heart, 'tis in vain To a heart so unpractis'd these things to explain.
* Le Roi, who was the Couiuriere of the Empress Maria Louisa, is at present, of course, out of fashion, and is succeeded in her station by the Royalist mantua-maker, Victokixe.
368 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX I'ARIS.
They can only be felt, in llieir fulness divine, By her who lius AvauderVl, at evening's decline, Through a valley like that, with a Colonel like mine !
But here I must finish — for Bob, my dear Dolly, "Whom physic, I find, always makes melancholy, Is seiz'd with a fancy for church-yard reflections; And, full of all yesterday's rich recollections, Is just setting oflE"for Montmartre — "for there is," Said he, looking solemn, "the tomb of the VeUYS !* " Long, long have I wish'd, as a votary true,
" O'er the grave of such talents to utter my moans ; "And to-day — as my stomach is not in good cue
"For the Jksh of the Vkuys — I'll visit their bones ! " lie insists upon my going with him — how teasing !
This letter, however, dear Dolly, shall lie Unseal'd in my draw'r, thJit, if any thing pleasing
Occurs while I 'm out, I may tell you — good-bye.
B. F.
Four o'clock. Oh, Dolly, dear Dolly, I'm ruin'd for ever — I ne'er shall be happy again, Dolly, never ! To think of the wretch — what a victim was I ! 'Tis too much to endure — I shall die, I shall die —
* It is the brother of the present excellent Restiuiratour who lies entombed so magnificently in the Cimeti^re Montmartre. The inscription on the column at the head of the tomb concludes ■with the following words: — " Touto sa vie fut consacree aux arts utiles."
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN TAKIS. 369
My brain's in a fever ^ — my pulses beat quick — I shall die, or, at least, be exceedingly sick ! Oh, what do you think ? after all my romancing. My visions of glory, my sighing, my glancing, This Colonel — I scarce can commit it to paper — This Colonel 's no more than a vile linen-draper ! ! 'Tis true as I live — I had coax'd brother Bob so, (You'll hardly make out what I'm writing, I sob so,) For some little gift on my birthday — September The thirtieth, dear, I'm eighteen, you remember — That Bob to a shop kindly order'd the coach,
(Ah, little I thought who the shopman would
prove,) To bespeak me a few of those viouchoirs de poche, Which, in happier hours, I have sigh'd for, my
love — (The most beautiful things — two Napoleons the
price — And one's name in the corner embroider'd so nice !) Well, with heart full of pleasure, I enter'd the shop. But — ye Gods, what a phantom ! — I thought I
should drop — There he stood, my dear Dolly — no room for a
doubt — There, behind the vile counter, these eyes saw
him stand, With a piece of French cambric, before him roU'd
out, And that horrid yard-measure uprais'd in his
hand! VOL. n 24
370 THE FUDGE FAMILY IX PAUIS.
Oh — Papa, all along, knew the secret, 'tis clears— 'Twa5 a shopman he meant by a " Brandenbiirgh,"
dear ! The man, wliom I fondly had fancied a King,
And, when that too delightful illusion was past. As a hero had worshipp'd — vile, treacherous tiling — •
To turn out but a low linen-draper at last ! My head swam around — the wretch sniil'd, I believe, But his smiling, alas, could no longer deceive — I fell back on Bob — my whole heart seem'd to
wither — And, pale as a gliost, I was carried back hither ! I only remember that Bob, as I caught him.
With cruel facetiousness said, " Curse the Kiddy ! "A staunch Revolutionist always I've thought him,
" But now I find out he's a Counter one, Biddy! "
Only think, my dear creature, if this should be known To that saucy, satirical thing. Miss Malone ! What a story 'twill be at Shandangan for ever! What laughs and what quizzing she '11 have with the men ! [never
It will spread through the country — and never, oh.
Can BiDDY' be seen at Kilrandy again ! Farewell — I shall do something desp'rate, I fear — And, ah ! if my fate ever reaches your ear, One tear of compassion my Doll will not grudge . To her poor — broken-hearted — young friend,
Biddy Fudge.
THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PAEIS. 371
Nota bene — I am sure you will hear, with delight, That we're going, all three, to see Brunet to-night. A laugh will revive me — and kind Mr. Cox (Do you know him ?) has got us the Governor's box.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
Tu Kegibus alas Eripe.
Virgil, Georg. lib. iv.
Clip the -nings
Of these high-flying, arbitrary Kings.
Dryd£n"s Translation
DEDICATION.
TOLORDBYRON.
Dear Lord Byron,
Though this Volume should possess no other merit in your eyes, than that of reminding you of the short time we passed together at Venice, when some of the trifles which it contains were written, you will, I am sure, receive the dedication of it with pleasure, and believe that I am. My dear Lord,
Ever faithfully yours,
T. B.
PREFACE.
Though it was tJie wish of the Members of the Poco-curante Society (who have lately done me the honour of electing me their Secretary) that I should prefix my name to the following Miscellany, it is but fair to them and to myself to state, that, except in the " painful preeminence " of being employed to transcribe their lucubrations, my claim to such a distinction in the title-page is not greater than that of any other gentleman, who has contributed his share to the contents of the volume.
I had originally intended to take this opportunity of giving some account of the origin and objects of our Institution, the names and characters of the dif- fei'ent members, etc. etc. — but, as I am at present preparing for the press the First Volume of the " Transactions of the Poco-curante Society," I shall reserve for that occasion all further details upon the subject ; and content myself here with referring, for a general insight into our tenets, to a Song which will be found at the end of this work, and which is sung to us on the first day of every month, by one
378 FABLES FOR THE UOLY ALLIANCE.
of our oldest members, to the tune of (as far as I can recollect, being no musician,) either " Nancy Dawson " or " He stole away the Bacon."
It may be as well also to state, for the information of those critics, who attack with the hope of being answered, and of being, thereby, brought into notice, that it is the rule of this Society to return no other answer to such assailants, than is contained in the three words " Non curat Ilippoclides," (meaning, in English, " Ilippoclides does not care a fig,") which ■were spoken two thousand years ago by the first founder of Poco-curantism, and have ever since been adopted as the leading dictum of the sect.
THOMAS BROWX.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
TABLE I.
THE PISSOLUTION OF THE HOLT ALLIANCE. A DREAM.
I've had a dream that bodes no good
Unto the Holy Brotherhood.
I may be wrong, but I confess —
As far as it is right or lawful For one, no conjurer, to guess —
It seems to me extremely awful.
Methought, upon the Neva's flood
A beautiful Ice Palace stood,
A dome of frost-work, on the plan
Of that once built by Empress Anne,*
Which shone by moonlight — as the tale is —
Like an Aurora Borealis.
* " It is well known that the Empress Anne built a palace of ice on the Neva, in 1740, which was fifty-two feet in length, and when illuminated had a surprising eflect." — Pinkeeton.
380 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
In this said Palace, furnish'd all
And lighted as the best on land are, I drearat there was a splendid Ball,
Giv'n by the Emperor Alexander, To entertain with all due zeal,
Those holy gentlemen, who've shown a Regard so kind for Europe's Aveal,
At Ti'oppau, Laybach, and Verona.
The thought was happy — and design'd To hint how thus the human Mind May, like the stream imprison'd there, Be check'd and chill'd, till it can bear The heaviest Kings, that ode or sonnet E'er yet be-prais'd, to dance upon it. And all were pleas'd, and cold, and stately,
Shivering in grand illumination — Admir'd the superstructure greatly,
Nor gave one thought to tlie foundation. Much too the Czar himself exulted.
To all plebeian fears a stranger. For, IMadame Krudener, when consulted.
Had pledg'd her word there was no danger. So, on he caper'd, fearless quite,
Thinking himself extremel}^ clever, And waltz'd away with all his miglit.
As if the Frost would last for ever.
Just fancy how a bard like me,
Who reverence monarchs,raust have trembled
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 381
To see that goodly company,
At such a ticklish sport assembled.
Nor were the fears, that thus astounded My loyal soul, at all unfounded — For, lo I ere long, those ■walls so massy
Were seiz'd with an ill-omen'd dripping, And o'er the floors, now growing glassy,
Their Holinesses took to slipping. The Czar, half through a Polonaise,
Could scarce get on for downright stumbling ; And Prussia, though to slippery ways
Well us'd, was cursedly near tumbling.
Yet still 'twas, who could stamp the floor most, Russia and Austria 'mong the foremost. — And now, to an Italian air,
This precious brace would, hand in hand, go ; Now — while old Louis, from his chair, Intreated them his toes to spare —
Call'd loudly out for a Fandango.
And a Fandango, 'faith, they had. At which they all set to, like mad ! Never were Kings (though small th' expense is Of wit among their Excellencies) So out of all their princely senses. But, ah, that dance — that Spanish dance — Scarce was the luckless strain begun.
382 FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE.
When, glaring red, as 'twere a glance Shot from an angry Southern sun,
A light through all the chambers flam'd, Astonishing old Father Frost,
Who, bursting into tears, exclaim'd,
"A tliaw, by Jove — we're lost, we're lost!
" Run, France — a second Waterloo
"Is come to drown you — sauve qui pent!"
Why, why will monarchs caper so
In palaces without foundations ? — Instantly all was in a flow,
Crowns, fiddles, sceptres, decorations — Those Royal Arms, that look'd so nice, Cut out in the resplendent ice — Those Eagles, handsomely provided
With double heads for double dealings — How fast the globes and sceptres glided
Out of their claws on all the ceilings ! Proud Prussia's double bird of prey Tame as a spateh cock, slunk away ; While — just like France herself, when she
Proclaims how great her naval skill is — Poor Louis' drowning fleurs-de-lys
Imajrin'd themselves tvater-Ulies.
c
And not alone rooms, ceilings, shelves, But — still more fatal execution —
The Great Legitimates tiiemselves Seem'd in a state of dissolution.
FABLKS FOR THE HOLY ALLIAXCE. 383
Th' indignant Czar — when just about
To issue a sublime Ukase, "Whereas all light must be kept out" —
Dissolv'd to nothing in its blaze. '
Next Prussia took his turn to melt, And, while his lips illustrious felt The influence of this southern air,
Some word, like " Constitution " — long Congeal'd in frosty silence there —
Came slowly thawing from his tongue. While Louis, lapsing by degrees,
And sishino; out a faint adieu To truffles, salmis, toasted cheese
And smoking fondus, quickly grew,
Himself, into afondii too ; — Or like that goodly King they make Of sugar for a Twelfth-night cake, "When, in some urchin's mouth, alas, It melts into a shapeless mass !
In short, I scarce could count a minute. Ere the bright dome, and all within it, Kings, Fiddlers, Emperors, all w^ere gone —
Aiid nothing now was seen or heard But the bright river, rushing on,
Happy as an enfranchis'd bird. And prouder of that natural ray. Shining along its chainless way — More proudly happy thus to glide
In simple grandeur to the sea,
384 FAHLKS FOU TIIF. HOLY ALLIANCE.
Than when, in sparkling fetters tied, 'Twas deck'd witli all that kingly pride Could bring to light its slavery !
Such is my dream — and, I confess,
I tremble at its awfulness. .
That Spanish Dance — that southern beam-
But I say nothing — there's my dream —
And Madame Krudener, the she-prophet,
May make just what she pleases of it.
FABLE II.
THE LOOKIXG-GLASSES. PROEM.
Where Kings have been by mob-elections
Rais'd to the throne, 'tis strange to see What different and what odd perfections
Men have requir'd in Royalty. Some, liking monarchs lai-ge and phunpy,
Have chos'n their Sovereigns by the weight ; — Some wish'd them tall, some thought your dum2iy,
Dutch-built, the true Legitimate.*
* The Goths hnd a law to choose iiiwaj's a short, thick man for their King. — Muxster, Co$mo(j. lib. iii. p. 1G4.
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 385
The Easterns in a Prince, 'tis said, Prefer what 's call'd a jolter-head : * Th' Egyptians wer'n't at all partic'lar.
So that their Kings had not red hair — This fault not ev'n the greatest stickler
For the blood-royal well could bear.
A thousand more such illustrations
Might be adduc'd from various nations.
But, 'mong the many tales they tell us. Touching th' acquir'd or natural right
Which some men have to rule their fellows, There 's one which I shall here recite : —
FABLE.
There was a land — to name the place Is neither now my wish nor duty —
Where reign'd a certain Royal race, By right of their superior beauty.
What was the cut legitimate
Of these great persons' chins and noses. By right of which they rul'd the state.
No history I have seen discloses.
* " la a Prince a jolter-head is invaluable."
Oriental Field Sports.
VOL. II. 25
386 FABLES FOU THE HOLT ALLIANCE.
But SO it wiis — a settled case —
Some Act of Parliament, pass'd snugly,
Had voted them a beauteous race, And all their faithful subjects ugly.
As rank, indeed, stood high or low.
Some change it made in visual organs ;
Your Peers were decent — Knights, so so — But all your common people, gorgons !
Of course, if any knave but hinted
That the King's nose was turn'd awry.
Or that the Queen (God bless her !) squinted — The judges doom'd that knave to die.
But rarely things like this occurr'd,
Tlie i)eople to their King were duteous,
And took it, on his Royal word.
That they were frights, and He was beauteous.
The cause whereof, among all classes, Wa5 simply this — these island elves
Had never yet seen looking-glasses.
And, therefore, did not know themselves.
Sometimes, indeed, their neigbours' faces Might strike them as more full of reason.
More fresh than those in certain places — But, Lord, the very thought was treason !
FABLES FOU THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 387
Besides, howe'er we love our neighbour, And take his face's part, 'tis known
We ne'er so mach in earnest labour, As when the fiice attack'd's our own.
So, on they went — the crowd beheving — (As crowds well govern'd always do)
Their rulers, too, themselves deceiving — So old the joke, they thought 't was true.
But jokes, we know, if they too far go, Must have an end — and so, one day,
Upon that coast tliere was a cargo Of looking-glasses cast away.
'Twas said, some Radicals, somewhere, Had laid their wicked heads together,
And forc'd that ship to founder there, — "While some believe it was the weather.
However this mijrht be, the freijrht Was landed without fees or duties ;
And from that hour historians date The downfall of the Race of Beauties.
The looking-glasses got about.
And grew so common through the land, That scarce a tinker could walk out,
Without a mirror in his hand.
388 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
Comparing faces, morning, noon,
And night, their constant occupation —
By dint of looking-glasses, soon, They grew a most reflecting nation.
In vain the Court, aware of errors In all the old, establish'd mazards,
Prohibited the use of mirrors.
And tried to break them at all hazards : —
In vain — their laws might just as well Have been waste paper on the shelves ;
That fatal freight had broke the spell ;
People had look'd — and knew themselves.
If chance a Duke, of birth sublime,
Presum'd upon his ancient face, (Some calf-head, ugly from all time,)
They popp'd a mirror to his Grace : —
Just hinting, by that gentle sign,
How little Nature holds it true, That wliat is call'd an ancient line,
Must be the hne of Beauty too.
From Dukes' they pass'd to regal phizzes, Compar'd them proudly with their own,
And cried, " How could such monstrous quizzes " In Beauty's name usurp the throne ! " —
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 389
They then wrote essays, pamphlets, books,
Upon Cosmetical G3conomy, Which made the King try various looks,
But none improved his physiognomy.
And satires at the Court were levell'd, And small lampoons, so full of slynesses,
That soon, in short, they quite be-devil'd Their Majesties and Royal Highnesses.
At length — but here I drop the veil, To spare some loyal folks' sensations ; —
Besides, what follow'd is the tale Of all such late enlightened nations ;
Of all to whom old Time discloses
A truth they should have sooner known — •
That Kings have neither rights nor noses A whit diviner than their own.
FABLE III.
THE TORCH OF LIBEETT.
I SAW it all in Fancy's glass —
Herself, the fair, the wild magician,
Who bid this splendid day-dream pass, And nam'd each gliding apparition.
390 FABLES FOIl THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
'T was like a torch-race — such as they Of Greece perforni'd, in ages gone,
When the fleet youths, in long array. Pass VI the bright torch triumphant on.
I saw th' expectant nations stand,
To catch the coming flame in turn ; —
I saw, from ready hand to hand.
The clear, though struggling, glory burn.
And, oh, their joy, as it came near, 'T was, in itself, a joy to see ; —
While Fancy wliisper'd in my ear, " That torch they pass is Liberty ! "
And, each, as she receiv'd the flame, Liglited her altar with jts ray ;
Then, smiling, to the next who came, Speeded it on its sparkling way.
From Albion first, whose ancient shrine Was furnish'd with the fire already,
Columbia caught the boon divine.
And lit a flame, like Albion's, steady.
The splendid gift then Gallia took. And, like a wild Bacchante, raising
The brand aloft, its sparkles shook, As she would set the world a-blazing !
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 391
Thus kindling wild, so fierce and high
Her altar blaz'd into the air, That Albion, to that lire too nigh,
Shrunk back, and shudder'd at its glare !
Next, Spain, so new was light to her, Leap'd at the torch — but, ere the spark
That fell upon her shrine could stir,
'T was quench'd — and all again was dark.
Yet, no — not quench'd — a treasure, worth
So much to mortals, rarely dies : Again her living light look'd forth,
And shone, a beacon, in all eyes.
"Who next receiv'd the flame ? alas,
Unworthy Naples — shame of shames,
That ever through such hands should pass That brightest of all earthly flames !
Scarce had her fingers touch'd the torch, When, frighted by the sparks it shed,
Nor waiting ev'n to feel the scorch. She dropp'd it to the earth — and fled.
And fall'n it might have Ion"; remain'd ;
But Greece, who saw her moment now, Caught up the prize, though prostrate, stain'd.
And wav'd it round her beauteous brow.
392 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
And Fancy bade me mark where, o'er Her altar, as its flame ascended,
Fair, lanreUM spirits seem'd to soar.
Who tlius in sonir their voices blended : —
" Shine, shine for ever, glorious Flame, " Divinest gift of Gods to men !
" From Greece thy earliest splendour came, "To Greece thy ray returns again.
" Take, Freedom, take thy radiant round, " When dinnn'd, revive, when lost, return,
" Till not a shrine through earth be found, " On which thy glories shall not burn ! "
FABLE IV.
THE FLY AND THE BULLOCK. PROEM.
Op all that, to the sage's survey.
This woi-ld presents of topsy-turvy.
There's nought so much disturbs one's patience,
As little minds in lofty stations.
'Tis like that sort of painful wonder.
Which slender columns, labouring under
Enormous arches, give beholders ; — Or those poor Caryatides,
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 393
Condemn'd to smile and stand at ease, With a whole house upon their shoulders.
If, as in some few royal cases,
Small minds are born into such places —
If they are there, by Right Divine,
Or any such sufficient reason, "Wliy — Heav'n forbid we should repine ! —
To wish it otherwise Avere treason ; Nay, ev'n to see it in a vision, Would be what lawyers call misprision.
Sir Robert Filmer saith — and he,
Of course, knew all about the matter — " Both men and beasts lovfe Monarchy ; "
Which proves how rational — the latter. Sidney, we know, or wrong or right, Entirely differ'd from the Knight : Nay, hints a King may lose his head,
By slipping awkwardly his bridle : — But this is treasonous, ill-bred. And (now-a-days, when Kings are led
In patent snaffles) downright idle.
No, no — it isn't right-line Kings, (Those sovereign lords in leading-strings Who, from their birth, are Faith-Defenders,) That move my wrath — 'tis your pretenders, Your mushroom rulers, sons of earth, Who — not, like t' others, bores by birth,
394 FABLES FOU THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
EstabiisliVl gratia Dei blockheads,
Born with three kingdoins in their pockets^
Yet, with a brass that nothi^ijf stops,
Push up into the loftiest stations, And, though too dull to manage shops,
Presume, the dolts, to manage nations !
This class it is, that moves my gall. And stirs up bile, and spleen, and all. While other senseless things appear To know the limits of their sphere — While not a cow on earth romances So much as to conceit she dances — While the most jumping frog we know of. Would scarce at Astley's hope to show oflf — Your * * *s, your * * *s dare,
Untrain'd as are their minds, to set them To any business, any where.
At any time that fools will let them.
But leave we here these upstart things — » My business is, just now, witii Kings ; To whom, and to their right-line glory, I dedicate the following story.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 395
FABLE.
The wise men of Egypt were secret as dummies ;
And, ev'n when they most condescended to teach, They pack'd up their meaning, as they did their mummies,
In so many wrappers, 'twas out of one's reach.
They were also, good people, much given to Ivings — Fond of craft and of crocodiles, monkeys and mystery ;
But blue-bottle flies were their best belov'd things — As will partly appear in this very short histoiy.
A Scythian philosopher (nephew, they say,
To that other great traveller, young Anacharsis,)
Stept into a temple at Memphis one day,
To have a short peep at their mystical farces.
t He saw * a brisk blue-bottle Fly on an altar,
Made much of, and worshipp'd, as something
divine ; "While a large, handsome Bullock, led there in a
halter. Before it lay stabb'd at the foot of the shrine.
« According to .Elian, it was in the island of Leueadia they practised this ceremony — dveiv (iovv Tcug fivcaig. — Be Animal. lib. ii. cap. 8.
396 FABLES FOR TIIH HOLY ALLIANCE.
Surpris'd at such doings, lie whisper'd his teacher —
"If 'tis n't impertiiient, may I ask why " Should a Bullock, that useful and powerful creature,
" lie thus ort'er'd up to a blue-bottle Fly?" "No wonder" — said t'other — "you stare at the sight,
" But we as a Symbol of monarchy view it — " That Fly on the shrine is Legitimate Right,
And that Bullock, the People, that's sacrific'd to it."
FABLE V.
CHURCH AND STATE.
PROEM.
"The moment any religion becomes national, or established, its purity must certainly be lost, because it is then impossible to keep it uncon- nected with men's interests ; and, if connected, it must ine\'itably bo perverted by them." — Soame Jeni'ns.
Thus did Soame Jen-jt^s — though a Tory, A Lord of Trade and the Plantations ;
Feel how Religion's simple glory Is stain'd by State associations.
When Catitertne, ere she crush'd the Poles,
Appeal'd to the benign Divinity ; Then cut them up in protocols. Made fractions of their very souls * ^ —
All in the name of t lie bless'd Trinity;
* Ames, (k7)ii-ames, etc.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 397
Or when her grandson, Alexander, That mighty Northern saLaraander,* "Whose icy touch, feh all about. Puts every fire of Freedom out — "When he, too, winds up his Ukases "With God and the Panagia's praises — When he, of royal Saints the type,
In holy water dips the spunge, "With which, at one imperial wipe.
He would all human rights expunge ; "When Louis (whom as King, and eater, Some name Dix-huit, and some Des-huitres,) Calls down " St. Louis' God " to witness The right, humanity, and fitness Of sending eighty thousand Solons,
Sages, with muskets and lac'd coats. To cram instruction, nolens volens,
Down the poor struggling Spaniards' throats — I can't help thinking, (though to Kings
I must, of course, like other men, bow,) That when a Christian monarch brings Religion's name to gloss these things —
Such blasphemy out-Benbows Benbow ! t
Or — not so far for facts to roam. Having a few much nearer home — "When we see Churchmen, who, if ask'd,
* The salamander is supposed to have thfrpower of extinguish- ing fire by its natural coldness and moisture, t A well-known publisher of irreligious books.
398 FARLKS roil TIIK IIOI.Y ALLIANCE.
" jNIust Ireland's slaves be tith'd, and task'd, " And driv'n, like Negroes or Croats,
'"That you may roll in wealth and bliss?" Look from beneath their shovel hats
AVith all due pomp, and answer '" Yes ! " But then, if question'd, " Sliall the brand " Intolerance flings throughout that land, — " Shall the fierce strife now taught to grow " Betwixt her palaces and hovels, " Be ever quench'd ? " — from the same shovels Look grandly forth, and answer " No." Alas, alas ! have these a claim To merciful Religion's name ? If more you seek, go see a bevy Of bowing parsons at a levee — (Choosing your time, when straw's before Some apoplectic bishop's door,) Then, if thou canst, with life, escape That rush of lawn, that press of crape, Just watch their rev'rences and graces,
As on each smirking suitor frisks. And say, if those round shining faces
To heav'n or earth most turn their disks ?
This, this it is — Eeligion, made,
'Twixt Church and State, a truck, a trade —
This most ill-match'd, unholy Co.,
From whence the ills we witness flow ;
The war of many creeds with one —
Th' extremes of too much faith, and none —
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 399
Till, betwixt ancient trash and new, 'Twixt Cant and Blasphemy — the two Rank ills with which this age is curst — We can no more tell which is worst, Than erst could Egypt, when so rich In various plagues, determine which She thought most pestilent and vile. Her frogs, like Benbow and Carlisle, Croaking their native mud-notes loud, Or her fat locusts, like a cloud Of pluralists, obesely lowering. At once benighting and devouring ! —
This — this it is — and here I pray
Those sapient wits of the Reviews, Who make us poor, dull authors say.
Not what we mean, but what they choose ; Who to our most abundant shares Of nonsense add still more of theirs. And are to poets just such evils
As caterpillars find those flies,* Which, not content to sting like devils,
Lay eggs upon their backs likewise — ■ To guai'd against such foul deposits
Of other's meaning in my rhymes, (A thing more needful here, because it's
A subject, ticklish in these times) —
* " The greatest number of the ichneumon tribe are seen set- tling upon the back of the caterpilhir, and darting at different intervals their stings into its body — at eveiy dart they depose an egg." — Goldsmith.
400 TAliLES I'OU TIIK HOLY ALLIANCE.
I, here, to all such wits make known, Monthly and Weekly, Whig and Tory,
'Tis this Religion — this alone — I aim at in the following story: —
FABLE.
When Royalty was young and bold.
Ere, touch'd by Time, he had become —
If tis n't civil to say old,
At least, a ci-devant jeune homme ;
One evening, on some wild pursuit, Driving along, he chanc'd to see
Religion, passing by on foot, And took liim in his vis-a-vis.
This said Religion was a Friar, The humblest and the best of men,
Who ne'er had notion or desii*e Of riding in a coach till then.
" I say " — quoth Royalty, who rather Enjoy'd a masquerading joke —
"I say, suppose, my good old father, " You lend me, for a while, your cloak."
The Friar consented — little knew
What tricks the youth had in his head ;
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 401
Besides, was rather tempted too By a lac'd coat he got in stead.
Away ran Royalty, slap-dash,
Scampering like mad about the town ;
Broke windows, shiver'd lamps to smash.
And knock'd whole scores of watchmen down.
While nought could they, whose heads were broke, Learn of the " why " or the " wherefore,"
Except that 'twas Religion's cloak
The gentleman, who crack'd them, wore.
Meanwhile, the Friar, whose head was turn'd
By the lac'd coat, grew frisky too ; Look'd big — his former habits spnrn'd —
And storm'd about as srreat men do :
o
Dealt much in pompous oaths and jsurses — Said " d — mn you " often, or as bad —
Laid claim to other people's purses — Jn short, grew either knave, or mad.
As work like this was unbefitting.
And flesh and blood no longer bore it,
The Court of Common Sense, then sitting, Summon'd the culprits both before it.
Where, after hours in wrangling spent
(As Courts must wrangle to decide well), VOL. II. 26
402 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
Religion to St. Luke's was sent,
And Royalty pack'd off to Bridewell.
With this proviso — should they be Restor'd, in due time, to their senses,
They both must give security.
In future, against such offences —
Religion ne'er to lend his cloak,
Seeing what dreadful work it leads to ;
And Royalty to crack his joke, —
But not to crack poor people's heads too.
FABLE VI.
THE LITTLE GRAND LAMA.
PROEM.
Novella, a young Bolognese,
The daugliter of a learn'd Law Doctor,* "Who had with all the subtleties
Of old and modern jurists stock'd her, "Was so exceeding fair, 'tis said.
And over hearts held such dominion, , That when her father, sick in bed, Or busy, sent her, in his stead,
To lecture on the Code Justinian,
* Andreas.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 403
■»
She had a curtain drawn before her,
Lest, if her charms were seen, tlie students Should let their young eyes wander o'er her,
And quite forget their jurisprudence.* Just so it is with Truth, when seeti,
Too dazzling far, — 't is from behind A light, thin allegoric screen,
She thus can safest teach mankind.
FABLE.
In Thibet once there reign'd, we're told, A little Lama, one year old — Rais'd to the throne, that realm to bless, Just when his little Holiness Had cut — as near as can be reckon'd -^- Sorae say his^^rs^ tooth, sorlie his second. Chronologers and Nurses vary, Which proves historians should be waiy. We only know th' important truth, His Majesty had cut a toolh.f And much his subjects were enchanted, — As well all Lamas' subjects mctf/ be,
* Quand il ^toit occupy d'aucune essoine, il envoyoit Novelle, sa fille, en son ]ieu lire aux escholes en charge, et, afin que la biaut6 d'elle n'empccliat la pens(5e des oyants, elle avoit une petite courtine devant elle. — Christ, de Fise, Cite des Dames, p. 11. cap. 36.
t See Turner's Embassy to Thibet for an account of his inter-
404 FABLES FOR TIIK HOLY ALLIANCE.
And would have giv'n their heads, if wanted,
To make tee-totums for the haby. Thron'd as he was by Right Divine —
(What Lawyers call Jure Bivino, Meaning a right to yours, and mine,
And every body's goods and rhino,) Of course, his ftiithful subjects' purses
Were ready with their aids and succours ; Nothing Avas seen but pension'd Nurses,
And the land groan'd with bibs and tuckers.
Oh ! had there been a Hume or Bennet, Then sitting in the Thibet Senate, Ye Gods, what room for long debates Upon the Nursery Estimates ! What cutting down of swaddling-clothes
And pin-a-fores, in nightly battles ! Wliat calls for papers to expose
The waste of sugar-plums and rattles ! But no — if Thibet had M. P.'s, They were far better bred than these ; Nor gave the slightest opposition, During the Monarch's whole dentition.
o
But short this calm ; — for, just when he Had reach'd th' alarming age of three,
view with the Lama. — " Teshoo Lama (he says) was at tliis time eighteen months old. Tliough he was unable to speak a word, he made the most expressive signs, and conducted himself with astonishing cUf/nitij and decorum."
FABLES FOK THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 405
When Royal natures, and, no doubt, Those of all noble beasts break out — The Lama, who till then was quiet, Show'd symptoms of a taste for riot ; And, ripe for mischief, early, late. Without regard for Church or State, Made free with whosoe'er came nigh ;
Tweak'd the Lord Chancellor by the nose, Turn'd all the Judges' wigs awry.
And trod on the old Generals' toes ; Pelted tlie Bishops with hot buns.
Rode cock-horse on the City maces. And shot froni little devilish guns.
Hard peas into his subjects' faces. In short, such wicked pranks he play'd.
And grew so mischievous, God bless him ! That his Chief Nurse — with ev'n the aid Of an Archbishop — was afraid,
When in these moods, to comb or dress him. Nay, ev'n the persons most inclin'd
Through thick and thin, for Kings to stickle, Thought him (if they 'd but speak their mind.
Which they did not) an odious pickle.
At length some patriot lords — a breed
Of animals they've got in Thibet, Extremely rare, and fit, indeed.
For folks like Pidcock, to exhibit — Some patriot lords, who saw the length To which things went, combin'd their strength,
406 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
Aiul penn'd a luanly, jjlaiii and fix-e Remonstrance to the Nursery ; Protesting warmly that they yielded
To none, that ever went before 'em, In loyalty to him who wielded
Th' hereditary j)ap-spoon o'er 'em ; Tiiat, as for treason, 'twas a thing
That made them almost sick to think of — Tliat they and theirs stood by the King,
Throughout his measles and his chin-cough, When others, thinking him consumptive. Had ratted to the Heir Presumptive ! — But, still — tliough much admiring Kings (And chiefly those in leading-strings), They saw, with shame and grief of soul,
There was no longer now the wise And constitutional control
Of birch before their ruler's eyes ; But that, of late, such pranks, and tricks,
And freaks occui-r'd tiie wliole day long, As all, but men with bisiiopricks,
Allow'd, in ev'n a King, were wrong. Wherefore it was they humbly pray'd
That Honourable Nursery, That such reforms be henceforth made,
As all good men desir'd to see ; — In other words (lest they might seem Too tedious), as the gentlest scheme For putting all such pranks to rest.
And in its bud the mischief nipping — ■
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 407
They ventur'd humbly to suggest
His Majesty should have a whipping !
When this was read, no Congreve rocket,
Discharg'd into the Gallic trenches, E'er equall'd the tremendous shock it
Produced upon the Nursery benches. The Bishops, who of course had votes, 33y right of age and petticoats, Were first and foremost in the fuss —
" What, whip a Lama ! suffer birch
" To touch his sacred infamous !
" Deistical ! — assailing thus
" The fundamentals of the Church ! — " No — no — such patriot plans as these, " (So help them Heaven — and their Sees !) " They held .to be rank blasphemies."
Th' alarm thus given, by these and other
Grave ladies of the Nursery side, Spread through the land, till, such a pother.
Such party squabbles, far and wide, Never in history's page had been Recorded, as were then between The Whippers and Non-whippers seen. Till, things arriving at a state.
Which gave some fears of revolution, The patriot lords' advice, though late.
Was put at last in execution.
408 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
The Parliament of Thibet met -^ The little Lama, call'd before it.
Did, then and there, his whipping get,
And (as the Nursery (^azette Assures us) like a hero bore it.
And though, 'mong Thibet Tories, some Lament that Royal Martyrtfom (Please to observe, the letter D In this last word's pronounc'd like B), Yet to th' example of that Prince
So much is Thibet's land a debtor, That her long line of Lamas, since,
Have all behav'd themselves much better.
FABLE VII.
THE EXTINGUISHERS. PROEM,
Though soldiers are the true supports, The natural allies of Courts, Woe to the Monarch, who depends Too much on his red-coated friends ; For even soldiers sometimes think —
Nay, Colonels have been known to reason, ■ And reasoners, whether clad in pink. Or red, or blue, arc on the brink
(Nine cases out of ten) of treason.
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 409
«
Not many soldiers, I believe, are
As fond of liberty as Mina ; Else — woe to Kings, when Freedom's fever
Once turns into a Scarletina! For then — but hold — 'tis best to A'eil My meaning in the following tale : —
FABLE.
A Lord of Persia, rich and great,
Just come into a large estate,
Was shock'd to find he had, for neighbours,
Close to his gate, some rascal Ghebers,
Whose fires, beneath his very nose,
In heretic combustion rose.
But Lords of Persia can, no doubt,
Do what they will — so, one fine morning, He turn'd the rascal Ghebers out,
First giving a few kicks for warning. Then, thanking heaven most piously.
He knock'd their Temple to the ground. Blessing himself for joy to see
Such Pagan ruins strew'd around. But much it vex'd my Lord to find.
That, while all else obey'd his will. The fire these Ghebers left behind.
Do what he would, kept burning still. Fiercely he storm'd, as if his frown Could scare the bright insurgent down ;
410 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
But, no — such fires are headstrong things, And care not much for Lords or Kings. Scarce could his Lordship well contrive
The flashes in one place to smother, Before — hey presto ! — all alive.
They sprung up freshly in another.
At length when, spite of prayers and damns, 'Twas found the sturdy flame defied liim, His stewards came, with low salams,
Offering, by contract, to provide him Some large Extinguishers, (a plan, . Much us'd, they said, at Ispahan, Vienna, Petersburgh — in sliort. Wherever Light's forbid at court,) Machines no Lord should be without, Which would, at once, put promptly out All kinds of fires, — from staring, stark Volcanos to the tiniest spark ; Till all things slept as dull and dark, As, in a great Lord's neiglibourhood, 'Twas right and fitting all things should.
Accordingly, some large supplies
Of these Extinguishers were furnish'd
(All of the true Lnperial size),
And there, in rows, stood bhick and burnish'd,
Ecady wliere'er a gleam l)ut shone
Of light or lire, to be clapp'd on.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 411
But, all, how lordly wisdom errs,
In trusting to extinguishers !
One day, when he had left all sure,
(At least, so thought he) dark, secure —
The flame, at all its exits, entries,
Obstructed to his heart's content. And black extinguishers, like sentries,
Plac'd over every dangerous vent — Ye Gods, imagine his amaze,
His wrath, his I'age, when, on returning, He found not only the old blaze,
Brisk as before, crackling and burning, — Not only new, young conflagrations. Popping up round in various stations — But still more awful, strange, and dire, Th' Extinguishers themselves on fii'e ! ! * They, they — those trusty, blind machines
His Lordship had so long been praising, As, under Providence, the means
Of keeping down all lawless blazing, "Were now, themselves — alas, too true The shameful fact — turn'd blazers too, And, by a change as odd as cruel, Instead of dampers, served for fuel I
* The idea of this Fable was caught from one of those brilliant mots, which abound in the conversation of my friend, the author of the "Letters to Julia," — a production which contains some of the happiest specimens of playful poetry that have appeared in this or any ag^.
412 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
Thus, of his only hope bereft,
" What," said the great man, " must be done ? " — All that, in scrapes like this, is left
To great men is — to cut and run. So run he did ; while to their grounds.
The banish'd Giiobers blest return'd; And, though their Fire had broke its bounds,
And all abroad now wildly burn'd. Yet well could they, who lov'd the flame, Its wand'ring, its excess reclaim ; And soon another, fairer Dome Arose to be its sacred home. Where, cherish'd, guarded, not confin'd, The living glory dwelt inshrin'd, And, shedding lustre strong, but even, Though born of earth, grew worthy heav'n
MORAL.
The moral hence my Muse infers Is, that such Lords are simple elves.
In trusting to Extinguishers,
That are combustible themselves.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 413
TABLE VIII.
LOUIS FOUKTEENTII'S M'lG.
The money rais'd — the army ready — Drums beating, and the Royal Neddy Vahantly braying in the van, To the old tune " Eh, eh, Sire Ane !" — * Nought wanting, but some coup dramatic,
To make French sentimejit explode, Bring in, at once, the gout fanatic.
And make the war " la derniere mode " — Instantly, at the Pav'Uon Marsan,
Is held an Ultra consultation — What's to be done, to help the farce on?
What stage-effect, what decoration, To make this beauteous France forget. In one, grand, glorious ^:»«'roi/eWe, All she had sworn to but last week, And, with a cry of " Magnifique I " Rush forth to this, or any war, Without inquiring once — " What for ? "
After some plans proposed by each, Lord Chateaubriand made a speech,
♦ They celebrated in the dark ages, at many churches, partic- ularly at Rouen, what was called the Feast of the Ass. On this occasion the ass, finely drest, was brought before the altar, and they sung before him this elegant anthem, " Eh, eh, eh, Sire Ane, eh, eh, eh, Sire Ane." — Warton's Eisay on Pope.
414 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
(Quoting, to show what men's rights are,
Or rather what men's riglits should he. From Hobbes, Lord Castlereagh, the Czar,
And other friends to Liberty,) Wherein he — having first protested 'Gainst liumouring the mob — suggested (As the' most iiigh-bred plan he saw For giving the new War eclat) A grand, Baptismal Melo-Drame, To be got up at Notre Dame, Li which the Duke (who, bless his Highness !
Had by his hill acquir'd such fame, 'Twas hop'd that he as little shyness
Would show, when to the point he came,) Should, for his deeds so lion-hearted. Be christen'd Hero, ere he started; With power, by Royal Ordonnance, To bear that name — at least in France. Himself — the Viscount Chateaubriand — (To help th' aflair with more esprit on) Offering, for this baptismal rite.
Some of his own fam'd Jordan water — * (Marie Louise not having quite
Used all that, for young Nap, he brought her,) The baptism, in this case, to be Applied to that extremity,
* r.rought from the river Jordan by M. Chateaubriand, and presented to the French Empress for the christening of young Napoleon.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 415
Which Bourbon heroes most expose ;
And which (as well all Europe knows)
Happens to be, in this Defender
Of the true Faith, extremely tender.* *
Or if (the Viscount said) this scheme Too rash and premature sliould seem — If thus discounting heroes, on tick —
This glory, by anticipation. Was too much in the genre romantique
For such a highly classic nation, He begg'd to say, the Abyssinians A practice had in their dominions, Which, if at Paris got up well, In full costume, was sure to tell. At all great epochs, good or ill,
They have, says Bruce (and Bruce ne'er budges From the strict truth), a Grand Quadrille
In pubhc danc'd by the Twelve Judges — f And, he assures us, the grimaces, The entre-chats, the airs and graces Of dancers, so profound and stately, Divert the Abyssinians greatly.
* See the Duke's celebrated letter to madame, written during his campaign in 1815, in which he says, '• J'ai le posterieur 1^- gerement endommagt?."
t " On certain great occasions, the twelve Judges (who are generally between sixty and seventy years of age) sing the song and dance the figure-dance," etc. — Book v.
41 G FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
" Now (.*<aiJ the Viscount), there 's but few " Great Empires, where this plan would do : " For instance, England ; — let theiu take
" What pains they would — 't were vain to strive — " The twelve stiff Judges there would make
" The worst Quadrille-set now alive. " One must have seen them, ere one could "Imagine properly Judge Wood, " Performing, in his wig, so gaily, "A queue-de-chat with Justice Bailey! " French Judges, though, are, by no means, '• Tliis sort of stiff, be-wigg'd machines ; " And we, who 've seen them at Saumur, " And Poitiers lately, may be sure "They'd dance quadrilles, or any thing, " That would be ])lcasing to the King — "Nay, stand upon their heads, and more do, "To please the little Duke de Bordeaux!"
After these several schemes there came Some others — needless now to name. Since that, which Monsieur plann'd, himself, Soon doom'd all others to the shelf, And was receiv'd par acclamation, As truly worthy the Grande Nation.
It seems (as iNIonsieur told the story) That Louis the Fourteentli, — that glory,
FABLES FOR THE HOLT ALLIANCE. 417
That Coryphee of all crown'd pates, —
That pink of the Legitimates —
Had, when, with many a pious pray'r, he
Bequeath'd unto the Virgin Mary
His marriage deeds, and cordon hieu,*
Bequeath'd to her his State Wig too —
(An offering which, at Court, 'tis thought,
The Virgin values as she ought) —
That "Wig, the wonder of all eyes,
The Cynosure of Gallia's skies,
To watch and tend Avhose curls ador'd,
Re-build its towering roof, when flat, And round its rumpled base, a Board
Of sixty Barbers daily sat,t . With Subs, on State-Days, to assist. Well pension'd from the Civil List : — That wondrous Wig, array'd in which. And form'd alike to awe or witch,
* "Louis XIV. fit present &, la Vierge de son cordon bleu, que Ton conserve soigneusement, et lui envoya ensuite, son Contrat de Mariage et le Traite des Pifrenees, magnifiquement reli^." — Memoires, Anecdotes pour servir, etc.
t The learned author of Eecherches Historiques sur les Perru- ques, says that the Board consisted but of Forty — the same number as the Academy. "Le plus beau terns des perruques fut celui ou Louis XIV. commen9a k porter, lui-meme, perruque;
On ignore I'^poque oil se fit cette revolution; mais on
salt qu'elle engagea Louis le Grand a y donner ses soins pater- nels, en errant, en 1656, quarante charges de perruquiers, sui\'ant la cour; et en 1673, il forma un corps de deux cents perruquiers pour la Ville de Paris." — P. 111.
VOL. n. 27
418 FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE.
He beat all other heirs of ci'owns, In taking mistresses and towns, Kequiring but a shot at one, A smile at t'other, and 'twas done! —
" That Wig (said Monsieur, while his brow Rose proudly,) " is existing now ; — " That Grand Perruque, amid the fall
" Of every other Royal glory, " With curls erect survives them all,
" And tells in every hair their story. " Think, think, how welcome at this time " A relic, so bclov'd, sublime ! " What worthier standard of the Cause
" Of Kingly Hight can France demand ? *• Or who among our ranks can pause
" To guard it, while a curl shall stand ? " Behold, my friends — (while thus he cried, A curtain, which conceal'd this pride Of Princely Wigs was drawn aside) " Behold that grand Perruque — how big
" With recollections for the world — " For France — for us — Great Louis' Wig
" By IIiPPOLYTE * new frizz'd and curl'd — ^^ New frizz d! alas, 'tis but too true, " Well may you start at that word new — " But such the sacrifice, my friends, " Til' Imperial Cossack recommends ;
• A celebrated Coiffeur of the present cl;)y.
FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 419
" Thinking such small concessions sage,
" To meet the spirit of the age,
" And do what best that spirit flatters,
"In Wigs — if not in weightier matters.
" "V^^lerefore, to please the Czar, and show
" That we- too, much-wrong'd Bourbons, know
" "What liberalism in Monarchs is,
" We have conceded the New Friz !
" Thus arm'd, ye gallant Ultras, say,
" Can men, can Frenchmen, fear the fray ?
" With this proud relic in our van,
"And D'AxGODLEME our worthy leader, " Let rebel Spain do all she can,
" Let recreant England arm and feed her, — " Urg'd by that pupil of Hunt's school, "That radical, Lord Liverpool — " France can have nought to fear — far from it —
" When once astounded Europe sees " The Wig of Louis, like a Comet,
" Streaming above the Pyrenees, "All's o'er with Spain — then on, my sons,
" On, my incomparable Duke, "And, shouting for the -Holy Ones,
" Cry Vive la Guerre — et la Perruque ! "
END of vol. II.
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