Lo, Mother Church, while all religion writhes, And proud pluralities subside to one; And must ye fall with every ear of grain ? Her loaves will lower to the market price; XV. Or turn to sail between those shifting rocks, And share the blessing which themselves prepared. And waft a loan" from Indus to the pole." See these inglorious Cincinnati swarm, rent! They roar'd, they dined, they drank, they swore To die for England-why then live? for rent! And when land crumbles, bid firm paper crash? The banker-broker-baron-brethren, speed 'Tis gold, not steel, that rears the conqueror's arch Two Jews, a chosen people, can command XVI. Strange sight this Congress! destined to unite 1 I speak not of the sovereigns-they're alike, The martial Argus, whose not hundred eyes To note the trappings of her mimic court. There Chateaubriand forms new books of martyr's ;* But she appears! Verona sees her shorn And subtle Greeks intrigue for stupid Tartars; XVII. Enough of this-a sight more mournful woos • Monsieur Chateaubriand, who has not forgotten the author in the minister, received a handsome compliment at Verona from a literary sovereign: "Ah! Monsieur C- -, are you related to that Chateaubriand who Of all her beams-while nations gaze and mourn- To chill in their inhospitable clime; (If e'er those awful ashes can grow cold; But no,-their embers soon will burst the mould;, XVIII. But, tired of foreign follies, I turn home, who has written something?" (écrit quelque chose!) It is said that the Here, reader, will we pause ;-if there's no harm in author of Atala repented him for a moment of his legitimacy. This first-you'll have, perhaps, a second "Carmen.” THE VISION OF JUDGMENT. BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF "WAT TYLER.” "A Daniel come to Judgment 1 yea, a Daniel ! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word." PREFACE. Ir Aath been wisely said, that "One fool makes many;" and it hath been poetically observed, "That fools rush in where angels fear to tread."-Pope. 3dly. Was he not entitled by William Smith, in full parliament, "a rancorous renegado?" 4thly. Is he not poet laureate, with his own lines on Martin the regicide staring him in the face? And 5thly. Putting the four preceding items to gether, with what conscience dare he call the atten tion of the laws to the publication of others, be they what they may? If Mr. Southey had not rushed in where he had no business, and where he never was before, and never will be again, the following poem would not say nothing of the cowardice of such a proceedhave been written. It is not impossible that it may ing; its meanness speaks for itself; but I wish to be as good as his own, seeing that it cannot, by any touch upon the motive, which is neither more nor species of stupidity, natural or acquired, be worse. less than that Mr. S. has been laughed at a little in The gross flattery, the dull impudence, the renegado some recent publications, as he was of yore in the intolerance, and impious cant of the poem by the " Anti-jacobin" by his present patrons. Hence all author of Wat Tyler, are something so stupendous this "skimble-scamble stuff" about "Satanic," and as to form the sublime of himself-containing the so forth. However, it is worthy of him-"Qualis quintessence of his own attributes. ab incepto." So much for his poem-a word on his preface. In If there is any thing obnoxious to the political this preface it has pleased the magnanimous laureate opinions of a portion of the public in the following to draw the picture of a supposed "Satanic School," poem, they may thank Mr. Southey. He might the which he doth recommend to the notice of the have written hexameters, as he has written every legislature; thereby adding to his other laurels the thing else, for aught that the writer cared-had ambition of those of an informer. If there exists any they been upon another subject. But to attempt to where, excepting in his imagination, such a school, canonize a monarch, who, whatever were his houseis he not sufficiently armed against it by his own hold virtues, was neither a successful nor a patriot intense vanity? The truth is, that there are certain king-inasmuch as several years of his reign passed writers whom Mr. S. imagines, like Scrub, to have in war with America and Ireland, to say nothing of "talked of him; for they laughed consumedly." the aggressions upon France,-like all other exag I think I know enough of most of the writers to geration, necessarily begets opposition. In whatwhom he is supposed to allude, to assert, that they, ever manner he may be spoken of in this new in their individual capacities, have done more good" Vision," his public career will not be more favor. in the charities of life to their fellow-creatures in ably transmitted by history. Of his private virtues any one year, than Mr. Southey has done harm to (although a little expensive to the nation) there can himself by his absurdities in his whole life; and be no doubt. this is saying a great deal. But I have a few questions to ask. With regard to the supernatural personages treated of, I can only say, that I know as much 1stly. Is Mr. Southey the author of Wat Tyler? about them, and (as an honest man) have a better 2dly. Was he not refused a remedy at law by the right to talk of them than Robert Southey. I have highest judge of his beloved England, because it also treated them more tolerantly. The way in which was a blasphemous and seditious publication? that poor insane creature, the laureate, deals about is judgment in the next world, is like his own udgment in this. If it was not completely ludierous, it would be something worse I don't think that there is much more to say at present. QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. I. SAINT PETER sat by the celestial gate; P. S.-It is possible that some readers may object, in these objectionable times, to the freedom with which saints, angels, and spiritual persons discourse At sea-which drew most souls another way. in this "Vision." But for precedents upon such points I must refer him to Fielding's Journey 46 II. Or curb a runaway young star or two, from this World to the Next," and to the Visions The angels all were singing out of tune, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon passes on the outside of heaven; and Chaucer's The guardian seraphs had retired on hign, Wife of Bath, Pulci's Morgante Maggiore, Swift's to, are cases in point of the freedom with which Finding their charges past all care below; Mr. Southey, being, as he says, a good And yet was in arrear of human ills. IV. His business so augmented of late years, That he was forced, against his will, no doubt, (Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,) To aid him ere he should be quite worn out Christian and vindictive, threatens, I understand, a reply to this our answer. It is to be hoped that his visionary faculties will in the meantime have acquired a little more judgment, properly so called: otherwise he will get himself into new dilemmas. These apostate jacobins furnish rich rejoinders. Let him take a specimen. Mr. Southey laudeth grievously "one Mr. Landor," who cultivates much private renown in the shape of Latin verses; and not long ago, the poet laureate dedicated to him, it appeareth, one of his fugitive lyrics, upon the strength of a poem called Gebir. Who could suppose that in this same Gebir the aforesaid Savage This was a handsome board-at least for heaven, Landor (for such is his grim cognomen) putteth into And yet they had even then enough to do, the infernal regions no less a person than the hero So many conquerors' cars were daily driven, of his friend Mr. Southey's heaven,-yea, even So many kingdoms fitted up anew; George the Third! See also how personal Savage Each day too slew its thousands six or seven, becometh, when he hath a mind. The following is Till at the crowning carnage, Waterloo, his portrait of our late gracious sovereign:- They threw their pens down in divine disgustThe page was so besmear'd with blood and dust. (Prince Gebir having descended into the infernal regions, the shades "Aroar, what wretch that nearest us? what wretch "Alas, O king! Oh madness of mankind ! address'd, adored 1"-Geber, p. 28. I omit noticing some edifying Ithyphallics of V. VI. This by the way; 'tis not mine to record What angels shrink from: even the very devil On this occasion his own work abhorr'd, So surfeited with the infernal revel; Though he himself had sharpen'd every sword, It almost quench'd his innate thirst of evil. (Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertion'Tis, that he hath both generals in reversion.) VII. Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace, "With seven heads and ten horns," and all in front, Savagius, wishing to keep the proper veil over 'Twill one day finish: meantime they increase, them, if his grave but somewhat indiscreet worshipper will suffer it; but certainly these teachers of great moral lessons" are apt to be found in strange company. Like Saint John's foretold beast; but ours are borr VIII. In the first year of freedom's second dawn A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn, IX. He died!-his death made no great stir on earth, His burial made some pomp; there was profusion Of velvet, gilding, brass, and no great dearth Of aught but tears-save those shed by collusion, For these things may be bought at their true worth; Of elegy there was the due infusionBought also; and the torches, cloaks, and banners, Heralds, and relics of old Gothic manners, X. Form'd a sepulchral melodrame. Of all The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show, Who cared about the corpse? The funeral Made the attraction, and the black the wo. There throbb'd not there a thought which pierced the pall; And, when the gorgeous coffin was laid low, It seem'd the mockery of hell to fold The rottenness of eighty years in gold. XI. So mix his body with the dust! It might Its way back into earth, and fire, and air; But the unnatural balsams merely blight What nature made him at his birth, as bare As the mere million's base unmummied clayYet all his spices but prolong decay. XII. He's dead-and upper earth with him has done : He's buried; save the undertaker's bill, Or lapidary scrawl, the world is gone For him, unless he left a German will; But where's the proctor who will ask his son? In whom his qualities are reigning still, Except that household virtue, most uncommon, Of constancy to a bad, ugly woman. XIII. "God save the king!" It is a large economy In this small hope of bettering future ill XIV. I know this is unpopular; I know 'Tis blasphemous; I know one may be damn'd For hoping no one else may e'er be so; I know my catechism; I know we are cramm'd With the best doctrines till we quite o'erflow; I know that all save England's church have shamm'd, And that the other twice two hundred churches And synagogues have made a damn'd bad purchase. God help us all! God knows, as XV. God help me too! I am, Not that I'm fit for such a noble dish Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate, A wond'rous noise he had not heard of lateAnd nodded o'er his keys; when lo! there came In short, a roar of things extremely great, [claim; A rushing sound of wind, and stream, and flame: Which would have made aught save a saint ex But he, with first a start and then a wink, Said, "There's another star gone out, I think!" XVII. But ere he could return to his repose, A cherub flapp'd his right wing o'er his eyesAt which Saint Peter yawn'd, and rubb'd his nose; "Saint porter," said the angel, "prithee rise!" Waving a goodly wing, which glow'd, as glows An earthly peacock's tail, with heavenly dyes: To which the saint replied, "Well, what's the matter? Is Lucifer come back with all this clatter?" XVIII. "No," quoth the cherub; "George the Third is dead." [apostle: "And who is George the Third?" replied the "What George? what Third?" "The king of England," said The angel. "Well! he won't find kings to jostle "He was, if I remember, king of France; When I cut ears off, I had cut him down; "And then he set up such a headless howl, That all the saints came out and took him in; And there he sits by St. Paul, cheek by jowl; That fellow Paul-the parvenu! The skin XXI. "But had it come up here upon its shoulders, There would have been a different tale to tell The fellow-feeling in the saints' beholders Seems to have acted on them like a spell; And so this very foolish head heaven solders Back on its trunk: it may be very well, And seems the custom here to overthrow Whatever has been wisely done below." |