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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 infusion Bought 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. (pall; There throbb'd not there a thought which pierced the

And when the gorgeous cofrin was laid low,
It seem'd the mockery of hell to fold
The rottenness of eighty years in gold. I

With the best doctrines till we quite o'erflow;

I know that all save England's church have sbamim'd,
And that the other twice two hundred churches
And synagogues have made a damu'd bad purchase.

XV.
God help us all! God help me too! I am,

God knows, as helpless as the devil can wish,
And not a whit more difficult to damn,

Than is to bring to land a late-hook'd fish,
Or to the butcher to purvey the lamb;

Not that I'm fit for such a noble dish,
As one day will be that immortal fry
Of almost every body born to die.

XVI.
Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate,

And nodded o'er his keys; when, lo! there came A wondrous noise he had not beard of late —

A rushing sound of wind, and stream, and flame; In short, a roar of things extremely great,

Which would have made aught save a saint exclaim; But he, with first a start and then a wink, Said, There's another star gone out, I think !"

XVII. But ere be could return to his repose, A cherub flapp'd his right wing o'er his eyes — At which Saint Peter yawnd, and rubbid his nose.

“ Sairt porter," said the angel, “ pritbee 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?"

XI.
So mix his body with the dust! It might

Return to what it must far sooner, were
The natural compound left alone to fight

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 clay Yet 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 hiin, 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 God to save the like; but if he will Be saving, all the better; for not one am I

Of those who think damnation better still I hardly know too if not quite alone am I

In this small hope of bettering future ill By circumscribing, with soine slight restriction, The eternity of hell's hot jurisdiction.

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XVIII. “ No," quoth the cherub; “ George the Third is dead."

[apostle : “ And irho 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 Him on his way; but does he wear his head ?

Because the last we saw here had a tustle, And ne'er would have got into heaven's good graces, Had he not flung his head in all our faces.

XIX. “ He was, if I remember, king of France ;3

That head of bis, which could not keep a crown On earth, yet ventured in my face to advance

A claim to those of martyrs — like my own: If I had had my sword, as I had once

When I cut ears off, I had cut him down ; But having but my keys, and not my brand, I only knock'd his head from out his band.

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 crammid

Thus as I stood, the hell, which awhile from its warning had rested,
Sent forth its note again, TOLL! TULL! through the silence of evening.
"T is a deep dull sound, that is heavy and mournful at all times,
For it tells of mortality always. But heavier this day
Fell on the conscious ear its deeper and inournfuller import,
Yes, in the heart it sunk; for this was the day when the herald,
Breaking his wand, should proclaim, that George our King was de-

parted.
Thou art released! I cried: thy soul is deliver'd from bondage !
Thou, who hast lain so long in mental and visual darkness,
Thou art in yonder heaven I thy place is in light and in glory.

Come, and behold! - methought a startling voice from the twilight
Answer'd; and therewithal I felt a sroke as of lihtning,
With a sound like the rushing of winds, or the running of waters.
If from without it came, I knew not, so sudden the seizure;
Or if the brain itself in that strong tlah bad expended
All its electric stores. Of strength and of thought it bereft me;
Hearing, and sight, and sense were gone."

SOUTHAT'. Vision of Judgment.) 1 ["So by the unseen comforted, raised I my head in oberlience,

And in a vault I found myself placed, rih'd over on all sides.
Narrow and low was that hout of the dead. Around it were coffins,

Ench in its niche, and ralls, and me, and funeral hatchments,
Vejrets of Tyrian dye, retaining their hues unfaded :
Blazonry rivid still, as if fresh from the touch of the liner;
Nor was the golden fringe, nor the golden broidery, larnish'd.
Whence came the light whereby that place of death was discover'd ?

For there was no lamp," &c. – Southsv.)
2 ("O'er the adamantine cates an angel stod on the summit.

llo! he exc'a'm'i, King George of England cometh to judgment !
Hear leaven! Ve cets hear! Souls of the Good and the Wicked
Whom it concerns, attenu' Thou Hell, bring forth his accusers!
As the sonorous summons was utter', the Winds, who were waiting.
Bore it abusid thro' livaien; and Heil, in her nethermost corners,
Heard and obey'd in dismay.

A multitudinous army
Came at the awful call. In semn circle inclining,
Tier orer tier they took their place: alult, in the distance,
Fara ilight cold pierre, that glorious company glisten'd.
From the earts of the shining assembly, a slipper vapour
Ringan in the blue reite, and inoving on ward it deepend,
Taking a denser furio." - Ind.)
3 [Louis XVI., guillotined in January, 1793.]

XX. “ And then he set up such a headless how),

That all the saints came out and took him in; And there he sits by St. Paul, cheek by jowl ;

That fellow Paul — the parvenù! The skin Of Saint Bartholoniew, which makes his cowl

In heaven, and upon earth redeem'd his sin, So as to make a martyr, never sped Better than did this weak and wooden head.

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.”

With such a glance of supernatural hate,

As made Saint 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 (whither Around their poor old charge ; who scarce knew

His guards had led him, though they gently dealt
With royal manes (for by many stories,
And true, we learn the angels are all 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 ice-bound, By Captain Parry's crew, in “ Melville's Sound."

XXII.
The angel answer'd, “ Peter! do not pout:

The king who comes hus head and all entire,
And never knew much what it was about

He did as doth the puppet — by its wire, And will be judged like all the rest, no doubt:

My business and your own is not to inquire
Into such matters, but to mind our cue –
Which is to act as we are bid to do."

XXIII.
While thus they spake, the angelic caravan,

Arriving like a rush of mighty wind,
Cleaving the fields of space, as doth the swan

Some silver stream (say Ganges, Nile, or Inde, Or Thames, or Tweed), and 'midst them an old man

With an old soul, and both extremely blind,
Halted before the gate, and in his shroud
Seated their fellow-traveller on a cloud. 1

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,

XXVIII. And from the gate thrown open issued beaming

A beautiful and inighty Thing of Light, i Radiant with glory, like a banner streaming

Victorious froin some world-o'erthrowing fight : My poor comparisons must needs be teeming With

likenesses, for here the night Of clay obscures our best conceptions, saving Johanna Southcotes, or Bob Southey raving.

XXIX. 'T was the archangel Michael : all men know

The make of angels and archangels, since 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

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

XXX.
Michael flew forth in glory and in good;

A goodly work of him from whom all glory
And good arise ; the portal past — he stood ;

Before him the young cherubs and saints hoary

1 (" Then I beheld the King. From a cloud which cover'd the pavement

His reverenu forn uprose: heavenward his face was directed,' tended. Heavenward his eyes were raiset!, and heavenward his arms were er. Presently one approach to grect him with joyful obeisance; He of whom, in an hour of woe, the assassin bereare us When is counxls most, and his resolute virtue, were needed. (me? Thou ! said the Monarch, here? Thou, PKKCXVA!, sumninonid vetore Then, as his waken'i mind to the weal of the country reverteil, What of his Son, he asku, what course by the l'rince had been follow'd ? Kight in his father's steps hath the Kerent trod, was the answer: Firm hath he prored and wre, at a time when weakness or error Would have sunk us in shame, and to ruin have liurlet us headlong. Peice is obtaind then at last, with very and honour! the Monarch Cried, and he ctaspil his hands, I thank thee, O merciful Father! Peace hath Uten won by the sword, the taithful mainister answer'd. Pari» hath," &c. - SOUTILBY 2 (See Captain Sir Edward Parry's Voyage, in 1819-20, for the Discovery of a North-west passage. "I believe it is almost impossible for words to give an idea of the beauty and variety which this mazniticent phenomenon displayed. "The luminous arch had broken into irr-gular masses, streaming with much rapidity in diferent directions, varying continually in shape and interest, and extending themselves from north, by the east, to north. At one time a part of the arch near the zenith was bent into convolutions resembling those of a snake

in motion, and undulating rapidly, an appearance which we
had not betore observeti. The end towards the north was
also bent like a shepherd's crook. The usual pale light of the
aurora strongly resembled that produced by the combustion
of phosphorus; a very slight tinge of red was noticed on this
occasion, when the aurora was most vivid, but no other co-
lours were visible." P. 133.)
3 ["Thus as he spate, methought the surrounding space dilated ;

Over head I behrid the infinite ether; beneath us
Lay the solid expanse of the tirmanent spread like a pavement;
Wherendesen I look'il, there was ache and glory around ine;
Brightest it seemd in the East, where the lew Jerusalem glitter'd.
Eininent on a hill, there stood the Celestial City;
Beaming atar it shone; its towers and cupolas rising
High in the air serene, with the brightness ot gold in the furnace,
Where on their breadth the splendour lay intense and quiescenti
Part with a terier glow, and a short quick tremulous motion,
Like the burning pyropus; and turreis and pennacing sparkled,
Playing in jets of light, with a diamond-like story coruscant.
Drawing near, I beheld what over the portal was written :
This is the Gate," &c.- SOUTHRY.)

• (Johanna Southcote, the aged lunatic, who fancied hersell, and was believed by many thousand followers, to be with child of a new Messiah, died in 1815. There is a full account of her in the Quarterly Review, vol. xxiv. p. 496.)

In act to assert his right or wrong, and show

Cause why King George by no means could or should Make out a case to be exempt from woe

Eternal, inore than other kings, endned With better sense and hearts, whom history mentions, Who long have “ paved bell with their good inten.

tions."

(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 seem'd a little sweeter).

XXXI.
The cherubs and the saints bow'd down before

That arch-angelic 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 't were less their will
Than destiny to make the eternal years (spheres.
Their date of war, and their “ champ clos" tte

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 't would 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.

XXXV.
The spirits were in neutral space, before

The gate of heaven; like eastern thresholds is The place where Death's grand cause is argued o'er,

And souls despatch'd to that world or to this ;
And therefore Michael and the other wore

A civil aspect : though they did not kiss,
Yet still between his Darkness and his Brightness
There pass'd a mutual glance of great politeness.

XXXVI.
The Archangel bow'd, not like a modern beau,

But with a graceful oriental bend,
Pressing one radiant arm just where below

The heart in good men is supposed to tend. He turn'd as to an equal, not too low,

But kindly ; Satan met his ancient friend With more hauteur, as might an old Castilian Poor noble meet a mushroom rich civilian.

XXXVII. He mcrely bent his diabolic brow

An instant; and then raising it, he stood

XXXVIII. Michael began : “ What wouldst thou with this man,

Now dead, and brought before the Lord ? What ill Hath he wrought since his mortal race began,

That thou canst claim him ? Speak ! and do thy will, . If it be just : if in this earthly span

He hath been greatly failing to fulfil
His duties as a king and mortal, say,
And he is thine ; if not, let him have way.”

XXXIX. “ Michael !" replied the Prince of Air, " even here,

Before the Gate of him thou servest, must I claim my subject : and will make appear

That as he was my worshipper in dust,
So shall he be in spirit, although dear

To thee and thine, because nor wine nor lust
Were of his weaknesses; yet on the throne
He reign'd o'er millions to serve me alone.

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

Once, more thy master's : but I triumph not
In this poor planet's conquest ; nor, alas !

Need he thou servest envy me my lot:
With all the myriads of bright worlds which pass

In worship round him, he may have forgot
Yon weak creation of such paltry things :
I think few worth damnation save their kings,-

XLI.
“ And these but as a kind of quit-rent, to

Assert my right as lord ; and even had I such an inclination, 't were (as you

Well know) superfluous; they are grown so bad, That hell has nothing better left to do

Than leave them to themselves : so much more mad And evil by their own internal curse, Heaven cannot make them better, nor I worse.

XLII. “ Look to the earth, I said, and say again :

When this old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor

worm

Began in youth's first bloom and flush to reign,

The world and he both wore a different form, And much of earth and all the watery plain

Of ocean call'd him king : through many a storm His isles had floated on the abyss of time; For the rough virtues chose them for their clime.

XLIII. “ He came to his sceptre young; he leaves it old :

Look to the state in which he found his realm, And left it; and his annals too behold,

How to a minion first he gave the helm ; How grew upon his heart a thirst for gold,

The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts; and for the rest, but glance Thine eye along America and France,

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Than see this royal Bedlam bigot range

The azure fields of heaven, of that be sure ! “ 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."

XLIV. “ 'T is true, he was a tool from first to last

(I have the workmen safe); but as a tool So let him be consumed. From out the past

Of ages, since mankind have known the rule Of monarchis - from the bloody rolls amass'd

Of sin and slaughter - from the Cæsars' school, Take the worst pupil; and produce a reign (slain. More drench'd with gore, more cumber'd with the

XLV. « He ever warr'd with freedom and the free:

Nations as men, home subjects, foreign focs, So that they utter'd the word ' Liberty!' (Whose

Found George the Third their first opponent. History was ever stain'd as his will be

With national and individual woes ?
I grant his household abstinence ; I grant
His neutral virtues, which most monarchs want;

XLVI.
“ I know he was a constant consort ; own

He was a decent sire, and middling lord.
All this is much, and most upon a throne ;

As temperance, if at Apicius' board,
Is more than at an anchorite's supper shown.

I grant him all the kindest can accord ;
And this was well for him, but not for those
Million; who found him what oppression chose.

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 throncs

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 re-taught them, wake
Upon the thrones of earth ; but let them quake !

XLVIII. “ Five millions of the primitive, who hold (plored

The faith which makes ye great on earth, imA 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 fo to Catholic participation
In all the license of a Christian nation.

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 got 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 an we can understand,

Although we find him sometimes in our skics;
Infernal thunder shook both sea and land

In all the planets, and hell's batteries
Let off the artillery, which Milton mentions
As one of Satan's most sublime inventions. 2

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

As have the privilege of their damnation
Extended far beyond the mere controls

Of worlds past, present, or to come; no station
Is theirs particularly in the rolls

Of hell assign'd; but where their inclination
Or business carries them in search of game,
They may range freely — being damn'd the same.

LIV.
They are proud of this — as very well they may,

It being a sort of knighthood, or gilt key
Stuck in their loins 3 ; or like to an " entré"

Up the back stairs, or such free-masonry.
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 : 4

XLIX. “ True ! he allow'd 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) (George III.'s determination against the Catholic claims.]

"From the opposite region, Heavy and sulphurous clouds rould on, and completed the circle. There with the Spirits accurst, in congenial darkness enveloped Were the souls of the Wicked, who, wilful in guil: and error, Chose the service cf sin, and now were abiding its wages. Change of place to them brought no reprieval froin anguish; They in their evil thoughts and desires of impotent malice, Envy, and hate, and blasphemous rage, and remorse unasailing, Carried a hell within, to which all outer alicuion, So it abstracted the sense, might be deem'd a reinission of torment.

LVI.
I say that I can tell —'t was 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,

At the edge of the cloud, the Princes of Darkness were marshall'd;
Dimly descried within were wings and truculent face
And in the thick obscure there struggled a nutinous uproar,
Railing, and fury, and strife, that the whole deep body of darkness
Rulld like a troubled sea, with a wide and a manifold niotion."

NETHEY.) 3 (A gold or gilt key, peeping from below the skirts of the coat, marks a lord chamberlain.]

* (An allusion to Horace Walpole's expression in a letter“The summer has set in with its usual severity.")

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 appcar'd (I've seen a something like it in the skies

In the Ægean, ere a squall); it near'd, And, growing bigger, took another guise ;

Like an aërial ship it tack'd, and stcer'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. I
But such a cloud ! No land e'er saw a crowd

Of locusts numerous as the heavens saw these ; They shadow'd with their myriads space; their loud

And varicd cries were like those of wild geese (If nations may be liken'd to a goose), And realised the phrase of “ hell broke loose."

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, Truc testimonies are enough: we lose

Our time, nay, our eternity, between
The accusation and defence: if we
Hear both, 't will stretch our immortality."

LXIV.
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 !"

LIX.
Here crash'd a sturdy oath of stout John Bull,

Who damn'd away his eyes as heretofore : There Paddy brogued “ By Jasus !"" What's your wull ?

(swore The temperate Scot exclaim'd: the French ghost In certain terms I sha 'n'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

Lxy. 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,

2 (

guess."

LX.
Besides there were the Spaniard, Dutch, and Danc;

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 summond by this grand “ subpæna," 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,

1 [" On the cerulean floor by that dread circle surrounded,

Stood the soul of the King alone. In front was the Presence
Veil'd with excess of light and behind was the blackness of darkness;
When the trumpet was blown, and the Angel made proclamation -
Lo, where the King appears! Come forward, ye who arraign him!
Forth from the lurid cluud a Demon came at the sumninons.
It was the Spirit by whom his righteous reign had been troubled ;
Likest in forin uncouth to the hideous Idols whom India
(Long by guilty neglect to hellish delusions abandon'd,
Worships with horrible rites of self destruction and torture.
Many headed and monstrous the Fiend: with numberless faces,
Numberless bestial cars erect to all rumours, and restless,
And with numberless mouths which were tilld with lio as with arrow
Clamours arose as he came, a confusion of turbulent voices,
Maledictions, and blatant tongues, and viperous hisses;
And in the hubhub of senseless sounds the watch words of faction,
Preeciom, Invaded Rights, Corruption, and War, and Oppression -
Loudly enounced were heard." - SouTuEY.]

"But when he stood in the Presence,
Then was the Fiend dismay'd, hough with impudence clothed as a gar.

mnent :
And the lying tongues were mute, and the lips, which had scatterid
Actuation and slander, were sull. No time for evasion
This, in the Presence he stood : no place for light; for dumbling
No possibility there. From the souls on the edge of the darknese,
Tro he prolucerljirine movers and agents of mischief, and hade them
Show themselves faithful nov to the cause for which they had alwuru.
Wretched and guilty souls, where now their audacity? Where now
Are the insolent tongues so reads of old at rejoindler >
Where the lofty pretences of public virtue and freedom
Where the ne, and the jeer, and the threat, the envemon'l Invective,
Calumniy, fa sehooil, fraud, and the whole ammunition of malice?
Wretched and guilty souls, they stood in the face of their Sovereign,
Conscious and self-condemn'd; confronted with him they had injured,
At the Judgment-seat * they stoou." - SOUTKEY-)

* (In reference to this part of Ur Souther's poem, the Eclectic Re. viewer, we believe the late Rer. Robert Ili, said Mr. Southey's Vision of Judgment' is unquestionably a profane poem. The assertion will stagger those only who do not consider what is the import of the word. Profine. ness is the irreverent itse of acrerl names and things. A burlesque nf things sacrel, whether intentional or not, is piroanenes. To apply the linguage of Scripture in a ludicrous connection is to protane it. The mummery of praser on the stage, though in a serious pavis ATOSA profanation of sicred things. And all aces which come under the taking of tol's naine in vain are acts of profaneness. According to this definition of the woril, the Laureate's Vision of Judgment' is a poum Aromaly and unpardonably profane. Mr. Southey's intention was, we are well persuaded, very far

from being irreligious; and, indeed, the profanenous of the perm partly arises froin the ludicrous effect prounced by the bad taste and inberilits of the performance, for which his intentions are clearly not answeralde, Whatever Ilerties a poet may claim to take, in representations partly allegorical, with the invisible realities of the world to come, thenia fatuus of political zeal has, in this instance, carti d Mr. Southey far le. onut any acaiunable bounds of poetical licene. It would have been enouel to celebrate the apothesis of the monarch: bur, when he proceed to travestie the final indument, and to convert the awful tribunal of Ilearen into a drawing room levee, where he, the Poet Laureate, takss upon himself to play the part of a lord in waiting, presentink one Georgian worthy after another to kiss hands on promotion, - what should be grave is, indeed, turned to turce."

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