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kis judgment in the next world, is like his own
udgment in this. If it was not completely ludi- SAINT PETER sat by the celestial gate;
crous, it would be something worse I don't think His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
that there is much more to say at present.

So little trouble had been given of late ;
QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. Not that the place by any means was full,

But since the Gallic era “eighty-eight” P.S.-It is possible that some readers may object, The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull, in these objectionable times, to the freedom with And “a pull altogether,” as they say 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

II. from this World to the Next,” and to the Visions The angels all were singing out of tune, . of myself, the said Quevedo, in Spanish or trans- And hoarse with having little else to do, lated. The reader is also requested to observe, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, that no doctrinal tenets are insisted upon or dis- Or curb a runaway young star or two, cussed ; that the person of the Deity is carefully Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon withheld from sight, which is more than can be said Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, for the laureate, who hath thought proper to make Splitting some planet with its playful tail, him talk, not like a school divine," but like the As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale. unscholarlike Mr. Southey. The whole action

III. passes on the outside of heaven; and Chaucer's Wife of Bath, Pulci's Morgante Maggiore, Swift's

The guardian seraphs had retired on hign,

al Finding their charges past all care below; Tale of a Tub, and the other works above referred Ion

Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky to, are cases in point of the freedom with which

Save the recording angel's black bureau ; saints, &c., may be permitted to converse in works

Q.R.

Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply not intended to be serious.

With such rapidity of vice and wo, *** Mr. Southey, being, as he says, a good

That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,

"And yet was in arrear of human ills. Christian and vindictive, threatens, I understand, a reply to this our answer. It is to be hoped that

IV. his visionary faculties will in the meantime have His business so augmented of late vears. acquired a little more judgment, properly so called :/ That he was forced, against his will, no doubt. otherwise he will get himself into new dilemmas. (Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers.) These apostate jacobins furnish rich rejoinders. For some resource to turn himself about. Let him take a specimen. Mr. Southey laudeth And claim the help of his celestial peers. grievously “one Mr. Landor," who cultivates much! To aid him ere he should be quite worn out Private renown in the shape of Latin verses; and By the increased demand for his remarks: not long ago, the poet laureate dedicated to him, it Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks 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 intol 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 disgust(Prince Gebir having descended into the infernal regions, the shades The page was so besmear'd with blood and dust. of his royal ancestors are, at his request, called up to his view, and ho exclaims to his ghostly guide)

VI.
" Aroar, what wretch that nearest us! what wretch

This by the way; 'tis not mine to record
Is that with eyebrows white and slanting brow?

What angels shrink frorn: even the very devil
Listen I him yonder, who, bound down supine,
Bhrinks yelling from that sword there, engine-hung.

On this occasion his own work abhorr’d,
He too among my ancestors ! I hate

So surfeited with the infernal revel;
The despot, but the dastard I despise.

Though he himself had sharpen'd every sword,
Wau he our countryman?"
“ Alas, O king!

It almost quench'd his innate thirst of evil. Iberia bore him, but the breed accurst

(Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertionInclement winds blew blighting from northeast." “ He was a warrior then, nor fear'd the gods ?"

"Tis, that he hath both generals in reversion.)
Gebir, he fear'd the demons, not the gods,
Though them indeed his daily face adored;

VII.
And was no warrior, yet the thousand lives

Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace,
Squander'd, as stones to exercise a sling,
And the tame cruelty and cold caprice-

Which peopled earth no better, hell as wont, Oh madness of mankind I address'd, adored !"-Rebir, p. 28. And heaven none-they form'd the tyrant's lease, I omit noticing some edifying Ithyphallics of With nothing but new names subscrib'd upon't; Savagius, wishing to keep the proper veil over 'Twill one day finish: meantime they increase, them, if his grave but somewhat indiscreet worship-! «With seven heads and ten horns,” and all in per will suffer it; but certainly these teachers of “ great moral lessons” are apt to be found in Like Saint John's foretold beast; but ours are bort. strange company.

Less formidable in the head than horn.

ront.

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VIII.

XV. In the first year of freedom's second dawn

God help us all! God help me too! I am, Died George the Third ; although no tyrant, one God knows, as helpless as the devil can wish, Who shielded tyrants, till each sense withdrawn

And not a whit more difficult to damn Left him nor mental nor external sun:

| Than is to bring to land a late-hook'd fish,
A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn, Or to the butcher to purvey the lamb;
A worse king never left a realm undone !

| Not that I'm fit for such a noble dish
He died—but left his subjects still behind, As one day will be that immortal fry
One half as mad-and t’other no less blind. Of almost every body born to die.
IX.

XVI.
He died his death made no great stir on earth, I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate, His burial made some pomp; there was profusion

And nodded o'er his keys; when lo! there came

"A wond'rous noise he had not heard of late Of velvet, gilding, brass, and no great dearth

A rushing sound of wind, and stream, and flame; Of aught but tears—save those shed by collusion,

? In short, a roar of things extremely great, [claim; For these things may be bought at their true worth;

Which would have made aught save a saint ex. Of elegy there was the due infusion

But he, with first a start and then a wink,
Bought also; and the torches, cloaks, and banners,
Heralds, and relics of old Gothic manners,

Said, “There's another star gone out, I think!”

XVII.

But ere he could return to his repose, Form'd a sepulchral melodrame. Of all

A cherub flapp'd his right wing o'er his eyesThe fools who flock'd to swell or see the show, At which Saint Peter yawn'd, and rubb'd his nose : Who cared about the corpse? The funeral

“ Saint porter," said the angel, “prithee rise!” Made the attraction, and the black the wo.

Waving a goodly wing, which glow'd, as glows There throbb'd not there a thought which pierced An earthly peacock's tail, with heavenly dyes : the pall;

To which the saint replied, “Well, what's the And, when the gorgeous coffin was laid low,

matter? It seem'd the mockery of hell to fold

Is Lucifer come back with all this clatter ? "
The rottenness of eighty years in gold.

XVIII.
XI.

“No,” quoth the cherub; “George the Third is So mix his body with the dust! It might

dead.”

[apostle: Return to what it must far sooner, were

“ And who is George the Third ?replied the The natural compound left alone to fight

" What George? what Third ?“The king of Its way back into earth, and fire, and air;

England,” said But the unnatural balsams merely blight

The angel. “Well! he won't find kings to jostle What nature made him at his birth, as bare Him on his way; but does he wear his head ? As the mere million's base unmummied clay

Because the last we saw here had a tustle, Yet all his spices but prolong decay.

And ne'er would have got into heaven's good XII.

Had he not flung his head in all our faces. (graces He's dead—and upper earth with him has done:

XIX.
He's buried; save the undertaker's bill, “ He was, if I remember, king of France :
Or lapidary scrawl, the world is gone

That head of his, which could not keep a crown For him, unless he left a German will;

On earth, yet ventured in my face to advance But where's the proctor who will ask his son ?

A claim to those of martyrs-like my own: In whom his qualities are reigning still,

If I had had my sword, as I had once
Except that household virtue, most uncommon, | When I cut ears off, I had cut him down;
Of constancy to a bad, ugly woman.

But having but my keys, and not my brand,
XIII.

I only knock’d his head from out his hand. “God save the king!” It is a large economy

"XX. In God to save the like; but if he will

" And then he set up such a headless howl, Be saving, all the better; for not one am I

That all the saints came out and took him in ; Of those who think damnation better still: And there he sits by St. Paul, cheek by jowl; I hardly know too if not quite alone am I

That fellow Paul the parvenu! The skin
In this small hope of bettering future ill Of Saint Bartholomew, which makes his cowl
By circumscribing, with some slight restriction, In heaven, and upon earth redeem'd his sin,
The eternity of hell's hot jurisdiction.

So as to make a martyr, never sped
XIV.

Better than did this weak and wooden head.
I know this is unpopular; I know

XXI. 'Tis blasphemous ; I know one may be damn'd " But had it come up here upon its shoulders, For hoping no one else may e'er be so;

| There would have been a different tale to tell I know my catechism; I know we are cramm'd The fellow-feeling in the saints' beholders With the best doctrines till we quite d'erflow: Seems to have acted on them like a spell; I know that all save England's church have And so this very foolish head heaven solders shamm’d,

| Back on its trunk: it may be very well, And that the other twice two hundred churches And seems the custom here to overthrow And synagogues have made a damn'd bad purchase. Whatever has been wisely done below."

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XXII.

XXIX.
The angel answered, “Peter! do not pout: 'Twas the archangel Michael: all men know

The king who comes has head and all entire, The make of angels and archangels, since
And never knew much what it was about-

There's scarce a scribbler has not one to show, He did as doth the puppet-by its wire,

From the fiends' leader to the angels' prince. And will be judged like all the rest, no doubt, There also are some altar-pieces, though

My business and your own is not to inquire I really can't say that they much evince
Into such matters, but to mind our cue-

One's inner notions of immortal spirits;
Which is to act as we are bid to do."

But let the connoisseurs explain their merits. XXIII.

XXX. While thus they spake, the angelic caravan,

Michael flew forth in glory and in good; Arriving like a rush of mighty wind,

| A goodly work of him from whom all glory Cleaving the fields of space, as doth the swan And good arise; the portal past-he stood;

Some silver stream, (say Ganges, Nile, or Inde, 1 Before him the young cherubs and saint hoary, Or Thames, or Tweed,) and 'mid them, an old man (I say young, begging to be understood

With an old soul, and both extremely blind, By looks, not years; and should be very sorry Halted before the gate, and in his shroud

To state they were not older than Saint Peter, Seated their fellow-traveller on a cloud.

But merely that they seem'd a little sweeter.) XXIV.

XXXI. But bringing up the rear of this diight host

The cherubs and the saints bowed down before A Spirit of a different aspect waved

That archangelic hierarch, the first his wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast Of essences angelical, who wore

Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved; The aspect of a god; but this ne'er nurst His brow was like the deep when tempest-tost;

Pride in his heavenly bosom, in whose core Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved No thought, save for his Maker's service, durst Eternal wrath on his immortal face,

Intrude, however glorified and high; And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space. He knew him but the viceroy of the sky. xxy.

XXXII. As he drew near, he gazed upon the gate

He and the sombre silent Spirit metNe'er to be enter'd more by him or sin,

They knew each other both for good and ill; With such a glance of supernatural hate,

Such was their power, that neither could forget As made Saint Peter wish himself within;

His former friend and future foe; but still He patter'd with his keys at a great rate,

There was a high, immortal, proud regret And sweated through his apostolic skin, | In either's eye, as if 'twere less their will Of course his perspiration was but ichor,

Than destiny to make the eternal years Or some such other spiritual liquor.

Their date of war, and their "champ clos” the

spheres. XXVI.

XXXIII. The very cherubs huddled altogether,

But nere they were in neutral space: we know Like birds when soars the falcon; and they felt | From Job, that Satan hath the power to pay A tingling to the tip of every feather,

| A heavenly visit thrice a year or so; And form'd a circle like Orion's belt [whither And that “the sons of God,” like those of clay, Around their poor old charge; who scarce knew Must keep him company; and we might show,

His guards had led him, though they gently dealt From the same book, in how polite a way With royal manes, (for by many stories,

The dialogue is held between the Powers And true, we learn the angels all are tories.) Of Good and Evil-but'twould take up hours. XXVII.

XXXIV. As things were in this posture, the gate flew And this is not a theologic tract, Asunder, and the flashing of its hinges

To prove with Hebrew and with Arabic Flung over space an universal hue

If Job be allegory or a fact
Of many-color'd flame, until its tinges

But a true narrative ; and thus I pick
Reach'd even our speck of earth, and made a new From out the whole but such and such an act

Aurora borealis spread its fringes [bound, As sets aside the slightest thought of trick.
O’er the North Pole; the same seen, when ice-|'Tis every tittle true, beyond suspicion,
By Captain Parry's crews, in “Melville's Sound.” And accurate as any other vision.
XXVIII.

XXXV.
And from the gate thrown open issued beaming The spirits were in neutral space, before
A beautiful and mighty Thing of Light,

The gate of heaven ; like eastern thresholds is Radiant with glory, like a banner streaming The place where Death's grand cause is argued o'er.

Victorious from some world-o’erthrowing fight: | And souls despatch'd to that world or to this; My poor comparisons must needs be teeming And therefore Michael and the other wore

With earthly likenesses, for her the night | A civil aspect: though they did not kiss,
Of clay obscures our best conceptions, saving Yet still between his Darkness and his Brightness
Johanna Southcote, or Bob Southey«raving. There pass'd a mutual glance of great politeness

TO

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XXXVI.

XLIII. The Archangel bow'd, not like a modern beau, " He came to his sceptre young; he leaves it old: But with a graceful Oriental bend,

| Look to the state in which he found his realm, Pressing one radiant arm just where below

And left it; and his annals too behold,
The heart in good men is supposed to tend. How to a minion first he gave the helm:
He turn'd as to an equal, not too low,

How grew upon his heart a thirst for gold,
But kindly ; Satan met his ancient friend

The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm With more hauteur, as might an old Castilian The meanest hearts; and for the rest, but glance Poor noble meet a mushroom rich civilian.

Thine eye along America and France.
XXXVII.

XLIV.
He merely bent his diabolic brow

" 'Tis true, he was a tool from first to last, An instant; and then raising it, he stood 1 (I have the workmen safe ;) but as a tool In act to assert his right or wrong, and show So let him be consumed. For out the past

Cause why King George by no means could or Of ages, since mankind have known the rule Make out a case to be exempt from wo [should Of monarchs---from the bloody rolls amass'd

Eternal, more than other kings, endued [tions, Of sin and slaughter—from the Cæsars' school, With better sense and hearts, whom history men- Take the worst pupil; and produce a reign Who long have “paved hell with their good inten- More drench'd with gore, more cumbrı'd with the tions."

slain.
XXXVIII.

XLV.
Michael began: “What wouldst thou with this man, “ He ever warr'd with freedom and the free:

Now dead, and brought before the Lord ? What ill Nations as men, home subjects, foreign foes,
Hath he wrought since his mortal race began, so that they utter'd the word · Liberty!! [Whose

That thou can'st claim him ? Speak! and do thy Found George the Third their first opponent. If it be just: if in this earthly span

(will, History was ever stain'd as his will be Ile hath been greatly failing to fulfil

With national and individual woes ?. His duties as a king and mortal, say,

I grant his household abstinence; I grant And he is thine; if not, let him have way." His neutral virtues, which most monarchs want; XXXIX.

XLVI. Michael !” replied the Prince of Air, “even here, I know he was a constant consort: own Before the gate of him thou servest, must

He was a decent sire, and middling lord. I claim my subject; and will make appear

All this is much, and most upon a throne; That as he was my worshipper in dust,

As temperance, if at Apicius' board, So shall he be in spirit, although dear

Is more than at an anchorite's supper shown. To thee and thine, because nor wine nor lust

I grant him all the kindest can accord; Were of his weaknesses; yet on the throne

And this was well for him, but not for those He reign'd o'er millions to serve me alone. Millions who found him what oppression chose. . XL.

XLVII. “Look to our earth, or rather mine ; it was,

“The New World shook him off; the Old yet Once, more thy master's : but I triumph not

Beneath what he and his prepared, if not
In this poor planet's conquest; nor, alas !
Need he thou servest envy me my lot:

Completed: he leaves his heirs on many thrones With all the myriads of bright worlds which pass

To all his vices, without what begot

Compassion for him-his tame virtues; drones In worship round him, he may have forgot

Who sleep, or despots who have now forgot Yon weak creation of such paltry things : I think few worth damnation save their kings

A lesson which shall be re-taught them, wake

Upon the thrones of earth ; but let them quake! XLI.

XLVIII. " And these but as a kind of quitrent, to Assert my right as lord; and even had

"Five millions of the primitive, who hold I such an inclination, 'twere (as you

The faith which makes ye great on earth, implored Well know) superfluous; they are grown so bad, A part of that vast all they held of old, That hell has nothing left to do

[mad! Freedom to worship--not alone your Lord, Than leave them to themselves : so much more Michael, but you, and you, Saint Peter! Cold And evil by their own internal curse,

Must be your souls, if you have not abhorr’d Heaven cannot make them better, nor I worse.

The foe to Catholic participation

In all the license of a Christian nation. XLII. « Look to the earth, I said, and say again:

XLIX. When this old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor - True! he allow'd them to pray God; but as worm

| A consequence of prayer, refused the law Began in youth's first bloom and flush to reign, Which would have placed them upon the same tase

The world and he both wore a different form, | With those who did not hold the saints in awe." And much of earth and all the watery plain But here Saint Peter started from his place,

Of ocean call'd him king: through many a storm And cried, “ You may the prisoner withdraw: His isles had floated on the abyss of time; Ere heaven shall ope her portals to this Guelph, For the rough virtues chose them for their clime. While I am guard, may I be damn'd myself!

LVII. Soyner will I with Cerberus exchange

Upon the verge of space, about the size My office (and his is no sinecure)

Of half-a-crown, a little speck appear'd, Than see this royal Bedlam bigot range

(I've seen a something like it in the skies The azure fields of heaven, of that be sure !” | In the Ægean, ere a squall;) it near’d, · Saint!” replied Satan, “you do well to avenge And, growing bigger, took another guise ;

The wrongs he made your satellites endure; Like an aërial ship it tack'd, and steer'd, And if to this exchange you should be given, | Or was steer'd, (I am doubtful of the grammar I'll try to coax our Cerberus up to heaven.” Of the last phrase, which makes the stanza stam

mer; LI.

LVIII.
Here Michael interposed : “Good saint! and devil! But take your choice ;) and then it grew a cloud,

Pray, not so fast; you both outrun discretion. | And so it was—a cloud of witnesses.
Saint Peter! you were wont to be more civil: But such a cloud! No land e'er saw a crowd

Satan! excuse this warmth of his expression, 1 Of locusts numerous as the heavens saw these; And condescension to the vulgar's level: [sion. They shadow'd with their myriads space; their loud

Even saints sometimes forget themselves in ses- And varied cries were like those of wild geese, Have you got more to say ? "_"No.-"If you (If nations may be liken'd to a goose,) I'll trouble you to call your witnesses.” (please, And realized the phrase of “hell broke loose.” LII.

LIX. Then Satan turn'd and waved his swarthy hand, Here crash'd a sturdy oath of stout John Bull,

Which stirr'd with its electric qualities | Who damn'd away his eyes as heretofore: [wull?" Clouds farther off than we can understand, There Paddy brogued “ By Jasus !"-What's your

Although we find him sometimes in our skies; The temperate Scot exclaim'd: the French ghost Infernal thunder shook both sea and land

In certain terms I shan't translate in full, sswore In all the planets, and hell's batteries

As the first coachman will; and 'mid the war, Let off the artillery, which Milton mentions The voice of Jonathan was heard to express, As one of Satan's most sublime inventions. “ Our President is going to war, I guess." LIII.

LX. This was a signal unto such damn'd souls

Besides, there were the Spaniard, Dutch, and Dane; As have the privilege of their damnation

In short, an universal shoal of shades, Extended far beyond the mere controls

From Otaheite's isle to Salisbury Plain, Of world's past, present, or to come; no station Of all climes and professions, years, and trades, Is theirs particularly in the rolls

Ready to swear against the good king's reign, Of hell assign'd; but where their inclination | Bitter as clubs in cards are against spades : Or business carries them in search of game, All summon'd by this grand “subpæna,” to They may range freely-being damn’d the same. Try if kings mayn't be damn'd like me or you. LIV.

LXI.
They are proud of this-as very well they may,. When Michael saw this host, he first grew pale,
It being a sort of knighthood, or gilt key

As angels can; next, like Italian twilight,
Stuck in their loins; or like to an “entré" He turn'd all colors—as a peacock's tail,
Up the back stairs, or such free-masonry.

Or sunset streaming through a gothic skylight I borrow my comparisons from clay,

In some old abbey, or a trout not stale,
Being clay myself. Let not those spirits be Or distant lightning on the horizon by night,
Offended with such base low likenesses;

Or a fresh rainbow, or a grand review
We know their posts are nobler far than these. Of thirty regiments in red, green, and blue.
LV.

LXII.
When the great signal ran from heaven to hell Then he address'd himself to Satan: “Why-

About ten million times the distance reckon'd My good old friend, for such I deem you, though From our sun to its earth, as we can tell

Our different parties makes us fight so shy, How much time it takes up, even to a second, I ne'er mistake you for a personal foe; For every ray that travels to dispel . [con'd, Our difference is political, and I

The fogs of London, through which, dimly bea- Trust that, whatever may occur below,
The weathercocks are gilt some thrice a year, You know my great respect for you; and this
If that the summer is not too severe :-

Makes me regret whate'er you do amissa
LVI.

LXIII
I say that I can tell—'twas half a minute: " Why, my dear Lucifer, would you abuse
I know the solar beams take up more time

My call for witnesses ? I did not mean
Ere, pack'd up for their journey, they begin it; That you should half of earth and hell produce ;
But then their telegraph is less sublíme,

'Tis even superfluous, since two honest, clean, And if they ran a race, they would not win it True testimonials are enough: we lose

'Gainst Satan's couriers bound for their own clime;! Our time, nay, our eternity, between The sun takes up some years for every ray

The accusation and defence: if we To reach its goal--the devil not half a day.

Hear both, 'twill stretch our immortality"

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