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 dealingsHow fast the globes and sceptres glided

Out of their claws on all the ceilings! Proud Prussia's double bird of prey,

Tame as a spatch-cock, slunk away; While-just like France herself, when she Proclaims how great her naval skill isPoor *****", drowning fleur-de-lys

Imagined themselves water-lilies.
And not alone rooms, ceilings, shelves,
But still more fatal execution-
The Great Legitimates themselves
Seem'd in a state of dissolution.
The indignant Czar-when just about
To issue a sublime Ukase-

Whereas, all light must be kept out-
Dissolved 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 ******, lapsing by degrees,

And sighing out a faint adieu
To truffles, salmis, toasted cheese,
And smoking fondus, quickly grew
Himself into a fondu 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 were gone!
And nothing now was seen or heard
But the bright river, rushing on,
Happy as an enfranchised bird,
And prouder of that natural ray,

Shining along its chainless way—
More proudly happy thus to glide

In simple grandeur to the sea, Than when in sparkling fetters tied, And deck'd with 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 LOOKING-GLASSES.
Proem.

WHERE Kings have been by mob-elections
Raised to the throne, 't is strange to see
What different and what odd perfections

Men have required in royalty.

Some, liking monarchs large and plumpy,

Have chosen their Sovereigns by the weight; Some wish'd them tall; some thought your dumpy,

Dutch-built the true Legitimate. 1

The Easterns, in a Prince, 't is said,
Prefer what's call'd a jolter-head; 2
The Egyptians were n't at all partic'lar,
So that their Kings had not red hair-
This fault not even the greatest stickler
For the blood-royal well could bear.
A thousand more such illustrations
Might be adduced from various nations;
But, 'mong the many tales they tell us,

Touching the acquired 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 ruled the state,
No history I have seen discloses.

But so it was-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 save us!) squinted-
The judges doom'd that knave to die.

But rarely things like this occurr'd:

The people 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,
Was simply this:-these island elves
Had never yet seen looking-glasses,

And, therefore, did not know themselves.

Sometimes, indeed, their neighbours' faces

Might strike them as more full of reason,
More fresh than those in certain places-
But, Lord! the very thought was treason!

The Goths had a law to chuse always a short thick man for their king.-MUNSTER, Cosmog. lib. iii, p. 164.

2 In a Prince, a jolter-head is invaluable.»-Oriental Field Sports.

182

Besides, howe'er we love our neighbour,

And take his face's part, 't is known We never half so earnest labour, As when the face attack'd's our own.

So, on they went-the crowd believing

(As crowds well govern'd always do); Their rulers, too, themselves deceivingSo old the joke they thought it true.

But jokes, we know, if they too far go,
Must have an end; and so, one day,
Upon that coast there was a cargo
Of looking-glasses cast away.

"T was said, some Radicals, somewhere,
Had laid their wicked heads together,
And forced that ship to founder there-
While some believe it was the weather.

However this might be, the freight

Was landed without fees or duties; And, from that hour, historians date The downfal 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.

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, established 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,
Presumed 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 what is call'd an ancient line
Must be the line of Beauty too.

From Dukes' they pass'd to regal phizzes,

Compared them proudly with their own, And cried, How could such monstrous quizzes In Beauty's name usurp the throne?

They then wrote essays, pamphlets, books,
Upon cosmetical economy,

Which made the King try various looks,
But none improved his physiognomy.

And satires at the Court they levell'd,
And small lampoons, so full of slynesses,
That soon, in short, they quite be-devil'd
Their Majesties and Royal Highnesses.

No, no-it is n't foolish Kings
(Those fix'd, inevitable things-
Bores paramount, by right of birth)

That move my wrath, but your pretenders,

Your mushroom rulers, sons of earth,

Who, not like t' others, crown'd offenders (Regular gratia Dei blockheads,

Born with three kingdoms in their pockets), Nor leaving, on the scale of mind,

These royal Zeros far behind,

Yet, with a brass that nothing 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 spleen, and bile, 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 off-
Your "***s and ****s dare,

Pigmy 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, with Kings;

To whom, and to their right-line glory,
I dedicate the following story:

Fable.

THE wise men of Egypt were secret as dummies;

And, even when they most condescended to teach,

They pack'd up their meaning, as they did their mummies,

In so many wrappers, 't was out of one's reach.

They were also, good people, much given to KingsFond of monarchs and crocodiles, monkeys and mystery,

Bats, hierophants, blue-bottle flies, and such thingsAs will partly appear in this very short history.

A Scythian philosopher (nephew, they say,

To that other great traveller, young Anacharsis) Stepp'd into a temple at Memphis one day,

To have a short peep at their mystical farces.

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.

Surprised at such doings, he whisper'd his teacher-
If 't is n't impertinent, may I ask why
Should a Bullock, that useful and powerful creature,
Be thus offered 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 sacrificed to it.»

FABLE IV.

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 unconnected with men's interests; and, if connected, it must evidently be perverted by them.-SOAME JENYNS.

THUS did SOAME JENYNS-though a Tory,

A Lord of Trade and the Plantations

Feel how Religion's simple glory

Is stained by State associations.

When CATHERINE, after murdering Poles,
Appeal'd to the benign Divinity,
Then cut them up in protocols,
Made fractions of their very souls-2

All in the name of the bless'd Trinity;

According to Elian, it was in the island of Leucadia they practised this ceremony - -Busty Bouv Tats putziz.-De Animal.

lib. ii, cap. 8.

a Ames, demi-àmes, etc.

Or when her grandson, ALEXANDER,
That mighty northern salamander,
Whose icy touch, felt 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 ******
(whom, as King and eater,
Some name *******, and some ***
*********)
Calls down Saint Louis' God to witness
The right, humanity, and fitness
Of sending eighty thousand Solons-
Sages with muskets and laced 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!
Or-not so far for facts to roam,
Having a few much nearer home-
When we see churchmen, who, if ask'd,
• Must Ireland's slaves be tithed and task'd,
And driven, like negroes or croats,

That you may roll in wealth and bliss?"
Look from beneath their shovel hats
With all due pomp, and answer. Yes!»
But then, if question'd, « Shall the brand
Intolerance flings throughout that land,
Betwixt her palaces and hovels,

Suffering nor peace nor love to grow,
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 want, go, see a bevy
Of bowing parsons at a levee
(Chusing your time, when straw's before
Some apoplectic bishop's door):
There, if thou canst with life escape
That sweep of lawn, that press of crape,
Just watch their rev'rences and graces,
Should'ring their way on, at all risks,
And say, if those round ample faces

To heaven or earth most turn their disks?

This, this it is-Religion, 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,

The extremes of too much faith, and none-
The qualms, the fumes of sect and sceptic,
And all that Reason, grown dyspeptic
By swallowing forced or noxious creeds,
From downright indigestion breeds;
Till, 'twixt old bigotry and new,
'Twixt Blasphemy and Cant-the two
Rank ills with which this age is cursed-
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 Carlile,
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 chuse; 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
That, not content to sting like devils,

Lay eggs upon their backs likewise-
To guard against such foul deposits,

Of others' meanings in my rhymes (A thing more needful here, because it's A subject ticklish in these times),

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:

Meanwhile, the friar, whose head was turn'd By the laced coat, grew frisky tooLook'd big-his former habits spurn'dAnd storm'd about as great men do

Dealt much in pompous oaths and curses-
Said « Damn you, often, or as bad-
Laid claim to other people's purses--
In 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), Religion to Saint 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 V.

THE LITTLE GRAND LAMA.

Proem.

NOVELLA, a young Bolognese,

The daughter of a learned law doctor, ' Who had with all the subtleties

Of old and modern jurists stock'd her,
Was so exceeding fair, 't is 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,
She had a curtain drawn before her,

Lest, if her charms were seen, the students Should let their young eyes wander o'er her, And quite forget their jurisprudence. Just so it is with Truth-when seen,

Too fair and bright-'t is from behind A light, thin allegorie screen,

She thus can safest teach mankind.

Fable.

IN Thibet once there reign'd, we 're told,
A little Lama, one year old-
Raised to the throne, that realm to bless,
Just when his little Holiness
Had cut-as near as can be reckon'd-
Some say his first tooth, some his second.
Chronologers and verses vary,

Which proves historians should be wary.

Andreas.

* Quand il étoit occupé d'aucune essoine, il envoyait Novelle, sa fille, en son lieu lire aux escholes en charge, et, afin que la biaûté d'elle n'empêchat la pensée des oyants, elle avoit une petite courtine devant elle.-Cunist, de Piso, Cité des Dames, p. 11, ch. 36,