XXIII.

There's scarce a scribbler has not one to show, From the fiends' leader to the angels' prince. There also are some altar-pieces, though

XXIV.

But bringing up the rear of this bright host,
A Spirit of a different aspect waved
His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast
Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is

paved;

His brow was like the deep when tempest-toss'd;
Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved
Eternal wrath on his immortal face,

And where he gazed, a gloom pervaded space.
XXV.

As he drew near, he gazed upon the gate
Ne'er to be enter'd more by him or Sin,
With such a glance of supernatural hate,

As made St. Peter wish himself within:
He patter'd with his keys at a great rate,
And sweated through his apostolic skin:
Of course his perspiration was but ichor,
Or some such other spiritual liquor.

XXVI.

The very cherubs huddled all together,
Like birds when soars the falcon; and they felt

A tingling to the tip of every feather,

And form'd a circle like Orion's belt

Around their poor old charge; who scarce knew whither

His guards had led him, though they gently dealt With royal manes (for by many stories, And true, we learn the angels all are Tories).

XXVII,

As things were in this posture, the gate flew
Asunder, and the flashing of its hinges
Flung over space an universal hue

Of many-colour'd flame, until its tinges
Reach'd even our speck of earth, and made a new
Aurora borealis spread its fringes

O'er the North Pole; the same seen, when icebound,

By Captain Parry's crew, in Melville's Sound.'

XXVIII.

And from the gate thrown open issued beaming A beautiful and mighty Thing of Light, Radiant with glory, like a banner streaming Victorious from some world-o'erthrowing fight: My poor comparisons must needs be teeming

With earthly likenesses; for here the night Of clay obscures our best conceptions, saving Johanna Southcote, or Bob Southey raving.

XXIX.

Twas the archangel Michael: all men know The make of angels and archangels, since

I really can't say that they much evince One's inner notions of immortal spirits; But let the connoisseurs explain their merits.

XXX.

Michael flew forth in glory and in good.

A goodly work of Him from whom all glory And good arise; the portal pass'd-he stood; Before him the young cherubs and saints hoary(I say young, begging to be understood

By looks, not years, and should be very sorry To state, they were not older than St. Peter, But merely that they scem'd a little sweeter).

XXXI.

The cherubs and the saints bow'd down before That archangelic hierarch, the first

Of essences angelical, who wore

The aspect of a god: but this ne'er nursed Pride in his heavenly bosom, in whose core No thought, save for his Maker's service, durst Intrude, however glorified and high;

He knew him but the viceroy of the sky.

XXXII.

He and the sombre silent Spirit met

They knew each other both for good and ill; Such was their power, that neither could forget His former friend and future foe; but still There was a high, immortal, proud regret In either's eye, as if 'twere less their will Than destiny to make the eternal years Their date of war, and their champ clos the spheres.

XXXIII.

But here they were in neutral space: we know From Job, that Satan hath the power to pay A heavenly visit thrice a year or so;

And that 'the sons of God,' like those of clay, Must keep him company; and we might show From the same book, in how polite a way The dialogue is held between the powers Of Good and Evil-but 'twould take up hours. XXXIV.

And this is not a theologic tract,

To prove with Hebrew and with Arabic, If Job be allegory or a fact,

But a true narrative; and thus I pick From out the whole but such and such an act, As sets aside the slightest thought of trick. 'Tis every tittle true, beyond suspicion, And accurate as any other vision.

XLVII.

The New World shook him off: the Old yet groans

Beneath what he and his prepared, if not Completed: he leaves heirs on many thrones To all his vices, without what begot Compassion for him-his tame virtues; drones Who sleep, or despots who have now forgot A lesson which shall be retaught them, wake Upon the thrones of earth; but let them quake!

XLVIII.

'Five millions of the primitive, who hold The faith which makes ye great on earth, implored

A part of that vast all they held of old

Freedom to worship-not alone your Lord, Michael, but you, and you, Saint Peter! Cold Must be your souls, if you have not abhorr'd The foe to Catholic participation

In all the licence of a Christian nation.

XLIX.

True! he allowed them to pray God: but as A consequence of prayer, refused the law Which would have placed them upon the same base

With those who did not hold the saints in awe.' But here Saint Peter started from his place,

And cried, You may the prisoner withdraw; Ere heaven shall ope her portals to this Guelph, While I am guard, may I be damn'd myself!

L.

'Sooner will I with Cerberus exchange My office (and his is no sinecure), Than see this royal Bedlam bigot range

The azure fields of heaven, of that be suré l' 'Saint!' replied Satan, you do well to avenge The wrongs he made your satellites endure And if to this exchange you should be given, I'll try to coax our Cerberus up to heaven.'

LI.

Here Michael interposed: 'Good saint! and devil! Pray, not so fast; you both outrun discretion. Saint Peter! you were wont to be more civil: Satan! excuse this warmth of his expression, And condescension to the vulgar's level:

Even saints sometimes forget themselves in

session.

Have you not more to say?—No,'-' If you please, I'll trouble you to call your witnesses.'

LII.

Then Satan turn'd and waved his swarthy hand,
Which stirr'd with its electric qualities
Clouds farther off than we can understand,
Although we find him sometimes in our skies
Infernal thunder shook both sea and land
In all the planets, and hell's batteries
Let off the artillery, which Milton mentions
A ne of Satan's most sublime inventons.

Roman Catholics.

They are proud of this, as very well they may,
It being a sort of knighthood, or gilt key
Stuck in their loins; or like to an entre

Up the back stairs, or such freemasonry.
I borrow my comparisons from clay,
Being clay myself. Let not those spirits be
Offended with such base low likenesses;
We know their posts are nobler far than these.
LV.

When the great signal ran from heaven to hell-
About ten million times the distance reckon'd
From our sun to its earth, as we can tell
How much time it takes up, even to a second,
For every ray that travels to dispel

The fogs of London, through which, dimly beacon'd,

The weathercocks are gilt some thrice a year,
If that the summer is not too severe.

LVI.

I say that I can tell-twas half a minute:
I know the solar beams take up more time
Ere, pack'd up for their journey, they begin it;
But then their telegraph is less sublime:
And if they ran a race, they would not win it
'Gainst Satan's couriers bound for their own clime.
The sun takes up some years for every ray
To reach its goal-the devil not half a day.

LVII.

Upon the verge of space, about the size
Of half-a-crown, a little speck appear'd
(I've seen a something like it in the skies
In the Ægean, ere a squall); it fear'd,
And, growing bigger, took another guise:
Like an aërial ship, it tack'd and steer'd;
Or was steer'd (I am doubtful of the grammar
Of the last phrase, which makes the stanza stammer;

LVIII.

But take your choice); and then it grew a cloud; And so it was-a cloud of witnesses.

But such a cloud! No land ere saw a crowd

Of locusts numerous as the heavens saw these: They shadow'd with their myfiads space; their loud And varied cries were like those of wild geese (If nations may be liken d to a goose), And realized the phrase of 'hell broke loose.'

LIX.

Here crash'd a sturdy oath of stout John Bull, Who dainn'd away his eyes as heretofore:

There Paddy brogued By Jasus !'-'What's your! wull ?

The temperate Scot exclaim'd: the French ghost

swore

In certain terms I shan't translate in full,

As the first coachman will; and 'midst the war, The voice of Jonathan was heard to express, Our President is going to war, I guess.'

LX.

Besides, there were the Spaniard, Dutch, and Dane;
In short, an universal shoal of shades,
From Otaheite's isle to Salisbury Plain,

Of all climes and professions, years and trades,
Ready to swear against the good king's reign,
Bitter as clubs in cards are against spades:
All summon'd by this grand 'subpoena,' to
Try if kings mayn't be damn'd like me or you.

LXI.

When Michael saw this host, he first grew pale,
As angels can; next, like Italian twilight,
He turn'd all colours-as a peacock's tail,

Or sunset streaming through a Gothic skylight In some old abbey, or a trout not stale,

Or distant lightning on the horizon by night, Or a fresh rainbow, or a grand review Of thirty regiments in red, green, and blue.

LXII.

Then he address'd himself to Satan: Why,
My good old friend-for such I deem you, though
Our different parties make us fight so shy,

I ne'er mistake you for a personal foe:
Our difference is political, and I

Trust that, whatever may occur below,
You know my great respect for you: and this
Makes me regret whate'er you do amiss-

LXIII.

'Why, my dear Lucifer, would you abuse My call for witnesses? I did not mean That you should half of earth and hell produce; 'Tis even superfluous, since two honest, clean,

True testimonies are enough: we lose

Our time, nay, our eternity, between

The accusation and defence: if we
Hear both, 'twill stretch our immortality.'

I.XIV.

Satan replied, 'To me the matter is

Indifferent, in a personal point of view:

I can have fifty better souls than this

With far less trouble than we have gone through Already; and I merely argued his

Late Majesty of Britain's case with you Upon a point of form: you may dispose

Of him; I've kings enough below, God knows!'

LXV.

Thus spoke the Demon (late call'd 'multifaced'
By multo-scribbling Southey). Then we'll call
One or two persons of the myriads placed
Around our congress, and dispense with all

The rest,' quoth Michael: 'Who may be so graced As to speak first? there 's choice enough-who shall

It be? Then Satan answer'd, 'There are many; But you may choose Jack Wilkes as well as any.'

LXVI.

A merry, cock-eyed, curious-looking sprite
Upon the instant started from the throng.
Dress'd in a fashion now forgotten quite;
For all the fashions of the flesh stick long
By people in the next world; where unite
All the costumes since Adam's, right or wrong,
From Eve's fig-leaf down to the petticoat,
Almost as scanty, of days less remote.

LXVII.

The spirit look'd around upon the crowds
Assembled, and exclaim'd, 'My friends of all
The spheres, we shall catch cold amongst these
clouds;

So let's to business: why this general call?
If those are freeholders I see in shrouds,

And 'tis for an election that they bawl, Behold a candidate with unturn'd coat! Saint Peter, may I count upon your vote?"

LXVIII.

'Sir,' replied Michael, 'you mistake; these things
Are of a former life, and what we do
Above is more august; to judge of kings
Is the tribunal met: so now you know.'
'Then I presume those gentlemen with wings,'
Said Wilkes, are cherubs; and that soul below
Looks much like George the Third, but to my mind
A good deal older-Bless me! is he blind?'

LXIX.

'He is what you behold him, and his doom
Depends upon his deeds,' the Angel said.
'If you have aught to arraign in him, the tomb
Gives licence to the humblest beggar's head

To lift itself against the loftiest.'-'Some,

Said Wilkes, don't wait to see them laid in lead For such a liberty; and I, for one,

Have told them what I thought beneath the sun.'

LXX.

Above the sun repeat, then, what thou hast

To urge against him,' said the Archangel. 'Why,'
Replied the spirit, since old scores are past,
Must I turn evidence? In faith, not I.
Besides, I beat him hollow at the last,

With all his Lords and Commons: in the sky
I don't like ripping up old stories, since
His conduct was but natural in a prince.

LXXI.

'Foolish, no doubt, and wicked, to oppress
A poor unlucky devil without a shilling;
But then I blame the man himself much less
Than Bute and Grafton;* and shall be unwilling

George III.'s Ministers.