By God the life to Him he loved; and taken Angel. Who shall heal murder? what is done is done; Adah. [The ANGEL disappears. He's gone, let us go forth; No, No more of threats: we have had too many of them: Adah. I will not leave thee lonely with the dead; Let us depart together. Cain. Oh! thou dead And everlasting witness! whose unsinking Blood darkens earth and heaven! what thou now art I think thou wilt forgive him, whom his God Can ne'er forgive, nor his own soul.-Farewell! I must not, dare not touch what I have made thee. I, who sprung from the same womb with thee, drain'd Can never meet thee more, nor even dare To do that for thee, which thou shouldst have done The first grave yet dug for mortality. But who hath dug that grave? Oh, earth! Oh, earth! Give thee back this.-Now for the wilderness. [ADAH stoops down and kisses the body of ABEL Henceforth to dry up tears, and not to shed them: Cain. Eastward from Eden will we take our way: 'Tis the most desolate, and suits my steps. Adah. Lead! thou shalt be my guide, and may our God Be thine! Now let us carry forth our children. Cain. And he who lieth there was childless. I Have dried the fountain of a gentle race, Which might have graced his recent marriage couch, O Abel! Adah. Peace be with him! But with me! Exeunt. THE VISION OF JUDGMENT, BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF "WAT TYLER." "A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel ! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word." PREFACE. IT hath been wisely said, that "one fool makes many," and it hath been poetically observed, "That fools rush in where angels fear to tread."-Pope. 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 have been written. It is not impossible that it may be as good as his own, seeing that it cannot, by any species of stupidity, natural or acquired, be worse. The gross flattery, the dull impudence, the renegado intolerance and impious cant, of the poem by the author of "Wat Tyler,' are something so stupendous as to form the sublime of himself-containing the quintessence of his own attributes. So much for his poem-a word on his preface. In this preface it has pleased the magnanimous Laureate to draw the picture of a supposed "Satanic School," the which he doth recommend to the notice of the legislature; thereby adding to his other laurels the ambition of those of an informer. If there exists anywhere, excepting in his imagination, such a School, is he not sufficiently armed against it by his own intense vanity? The truth is, that there are certain writers whom Mr. S. imagines, like Scrub, to have "talked of him; for they laughed consumedly." I think I know enough of most of the writers to whom he is supposed to allude, to assert, that they, in their individual capacities, have done more good, in the charities of life, to their fellow-creatures in any one year, than Mr. Southey has done harm to himself by his absurdities in his whole life; and this is saying a great deal. But I have a few questions to ask. 1stly. Is Mr. Southey the author of "Wat Tyler"? 2ndly. Was he not refused a remedy at law by the highest judge of his beloved England, because it was a blasphemous and seditious publication? 3rdly. 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 together, with what conscience dare he call the attention of the laws to the publications of others. be they what they may ? I say nothing of the cowardice of such a proceeding; its meanness speaks for itself; but I wish to touch upon the motive, which is neither more nor less than that Mr. S. has been laughed at a little in some recent publications, as he was of yore in the "Anti-Jacobin" by his present patrons. Hence all this "skimble-scamble stuff" about "Satanic," and so forth. However, it is worthy of him-" qualis ab incepto." If there is anything obnoxious to the political opinions of a portion of the public in the following poem, they may thank Mr. Southey. He might have written hexameters, as he has written everything else, for aught that the writer cared-had they been upon another subject. But to attempt to canonize a monarch, who, whatever were his household virtues, was neither a successful nor a patriot king,-inasmuch as several years of his reign passed in war with America and Ireland, to say nothing of the aggression upon France,-like all other exaggeration, necessarily begets opposition. In whatever manner he may be spoken of in this new "Vision," his public career will not be more favourably transmitted by history. Of his private virtues (although a little expensive to the nation) there can be no doubt. With regard to the supernatural personages treated of, I can only say that I know as much about them, and (as an honest man) have a better right to talk of them, than Robert Southey. I have also treated them more tolerantly. The way in which that poor insane creature, the Laureate, deals about his judgments in the next world, is like his own judgment in this. If it was not completely ludicrous, it would be some thing worse. I don't think that there is much more to say at present. QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. 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 in this "Vision." But, for precedents upon such points, I must refer them to Fielding's "Journey from this World to the next," and of the Visions of myself, the said Quevedo, in Spanish or translated. The reader is also requested to observe, that no doctrinal tenets are insisted upon or discussed; that the person of the Deity is carefully withheld from sight, which is more than can be said for the Laureate, who hath thought proper to make Him talk, not "like a school divine," but like the unscholarlike Mr. Southey. The whole action passes on the outside of heaven; and Chaucer's "Wife of Bath," Pulci's "Morgante Maggiore," Swift's "Tale of a Tub," and the other works above referred to, are cases in point of the freedom with which saints, &c., may be permitted to converse in works not intended to be serious. Q. R. Mr. Southey, being, as he says, a good Christian and vindictive, threatens, I understand, a reply to this our answer. It is to be hoped that his visionary faculties will in the mean time 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 Landor (for such is his grim cognomen) putteth into the infernal regions no less a person than the hero of his friend Mr. Southey's heaven,-yea, even George the Third! See also how personal Savage becometh, when he hath a mind. The following is his portrait of our late gracious sovereign: (Prince Gobir having descended into the infernal regions, the shades of his royal ancestory are, at his request, called up to his view; and he exclaims to his ghostly guide) "Aroar, what wretch that nearest us? what wretch Is that with eyebrows white and slanting brow? The despot, but the dastard I despise. "Alas, O king! Iberia bore him, but the breed accurst Gebir, p. 28. I omit noticing some edifying Ithyphallics of Savagius, wishing to keep the proper veil over 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. THE VISION OF JUDGMENT. I. SAINT PETER sat by the celestial gate: II. The angels all were singing out of tune, Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, III. The guardian seraphs had retired on high, IV. His business so augmented of late years, To aid him ere he should be quite worn out, Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks, V. This was a handsome board-at least for heaven; They threw their pens down in divine disgust- 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 almos quench'd his innate thirst of evil. (Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertion"Tis, that he has both generals in reversion.) VII. Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace, VIII. In the first year of freedom's second dawn Died George the Third; although no tyrant, one Who shielded tyrants, till each sense withdrawn Left him nor mental nor external sun: A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn, IX. He died!-his death made no great stir on earth; |