Take, Freedom, take thy radiant round, "When dimm'd, revive, when lost, return, "Till not a shrine through earth be found, "On which thy glories shall not burn?"

FABLE IV.

THE FLY AND THE BULLOCK.

PROEM.

Of all that, to the sage's survey,
This world presents of topsy-turvy,

There's naught so much disturbs one's patience,
As little minds in lofty stations.
"Tis like that sort of painful wonder,
Which slender columns, laboring under

Enormous arches, give beholders;
Or those poor Caryatides,
Condemn'd to smile and stand at ease,
With a whole house upon their shoulders.

If, as in some few royal cases,

Some minds are born into such placesIf they are there, by Right Divine,

Or any such sufficient reason, Why-Heav'n forbid we should repine!To wish it otherwise were treason; Nay, ev'n to see it in a vision, Would be what lawyers call misprision.

Sir ROBERT FILMER saith-and he,

Of course knew all about the matter-
"Both men and beasts love Monarchy;"
Which proves how rational-the latter.
SIDNEY, we know, or wrong or right,
Entirely differ'd from the Knight!
Nay, hints a King may lose his head,
By slipping awkwardly his bridle :-
But this is treasonous, ill-bred,
And (now-a-days, when Kings are led
In patent snaffles) downright idle.
No, no-it isn't right-line Kings,
(Those sovereign lords in leading-strings
Who, from their birth, are Faith-Defenders,)
That move my wrath-'tis your pretenders,
Your mushroom rulers, sons of earth,
Who-not, like t'others, bores by birth,
Establish'd gratia Dei blockheads,

Born with three kingdoms in their pockets-
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!

FABLE V.

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 inevitably 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 stain'd by State associations.

When CATHERINE, ere she crush'd the Poles,

Appeal'd to the benign Divinity; Then cut them up in protocols,

Made fractions of their very souls"—

All in the name of the bless'd Trinity;
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 sponge,
With which, at one imperial wipe,

He would all human rights expunge;
When Louis (whom as King, and eater,
Some name Dix-huit and some Des-huîtres)
Calls down "St. 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' throatsI 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 homeWhen we see Churchmen, who, if ask'd, "Must Ireland's slaves be tithed, and task'd, "And driv'n like Negroes or Croäts, "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,—

"Shall the fierce strife, now taught to grow "Betwixt her palaces and hovels,

"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 seck, go see a bevy
Of bowing parsons at a levee-
(Choosing your time, when straw's before
Some apoplectic bishop's door,)
Then, if thou canst, with life, escape
That rush of lawn, that press of crape,
Just watch their rev'rences and graces,
As on each smirking suitor frisks
And
say, if those round shining faces
To heav'n 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-
Th' extremes of too much faith, and none-
Till, betwixt ancient trash and new,
"Twixt Cant and Blasphemy-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 Carlisle,
Croaking their native mud-notes loud,
Or her fat locusts, like a cloud
Of pluralists, obesely low'ring,
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 choose; 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, Which, not content to sting like devils, Lay eggs upon their backs likewise— To guard against such foul deposits

Of others' meaning 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:

FABLE.

When Royalty was young and bold,
Ere, touch'd by Time, he had become,
If 'tisn't civil to say old,

At least, a ci-devant jeune homme;

One evening, on some wild pursuit

Driving along, he chanced to see Religion, passing by on foot,

And took him in his vis-à-vis.

This said Religion was a Friar,

The humblest and the best of men, Who ne'er had notion or desire

Of riding in a coach till then.

"I say,"-quoth Royalty, who rather Enjoy'd a masquerading joke"I say, suppose, my good old father, "You lend me, for a while, your cloak."

The Friar consented-little knew

What tricks the youth had in his head; Besides, was rather tempted too

By a laced coat he got in stead.

Away ran Royalty, slap-dash,

Scamp'ring like mad about the town; Broke windows, shiver'd lamps to smash,

And knock'd whole scores of watchmen down.

While naught could they, whose heads were broke, Learn of the "why" or the "wherefore," Except that 'twas Religion's cloak,

The gentleman, who crack'd them, wore.

Meanwhile, the Friar, whose head was turn'd
By the laced coat, grew frisky too;
Look'd big-his former habits spurn'd-
And storm'd about, as great men do:

Dealt much in pompous oaths and curses-
Said "d-mn 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 St. Luke's was sent,

And Royalty pack'd off to Bridewell.

With this proviso-should they be Restored, 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 VI.

THE LITTLE GRAND LAMA.

PROEM.

NOVELLA, a young Bolognese,

The daughter of a learn'd Law Doctor,' Who had with all the subtleties

Of old and modern jurists stock'd her,
Was so exceeding fair, 'tis 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 dazzling far,-'tis from behind A light, thin allegoric 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 Nurses vary,
Which proves historians should be wary.
We only know th' important truth,
His Majesty had cut a tooth."
And much his subjects were enchanted,—
As well all Lamas' subjects may be,
And would have giv'n their heads, if wanted,
To make tee-totums for the baby.
Throned as he was by Right Divine-

(What lawyers call Jure Divino, Meaning a right to yours, and mine,

And every body's goods and rhino,)

Of course, his faithful subjects' purses
Were ready with their aids and succors;
Nothing was seen but pension'd Nurses,
And the land groan'd with bibs and tuckers.

Oh! had there been a Hume or Bennet,
Then sitting on the Thibet Senate,
Ye Gods, what room for long debates
Upon the Nursery Estimates!
What cutting down of swaddling-clothes
And pin-a-fores, in nightly battles!
What calls for papers to expose

The waste of sugar-plums and rattles!
But no-if Thibet had M. P.'s,

They were far better bred than these ;
Nor gave the slightest opposition,
During the Monarch's whole dentition.
But short this calm;-for, just when he
Had reach'd th' alarming age of three,
When Royal natures, and, no doubt,
Those of all noble beasts break out-
The Lama, who till then was quiet,
Show'd symptoms of a taste for riot;
And, ripe for mischief, early, late,
Without regard for Church or State,
Made free with whosoe'er came nigh;
Tweak'd the Lord Chancellor by the nose,
Turn'd all the Judges' wigs awry,

And trod on the old Generals' toes:
Pelted the Bishops with hot buns.
Rode cockhorse on the City maces,
And shot from little devilish guns

Hard peas into his subjects' faces.
In short, such wicked pranks he play'd,
And grew so mischievous, God bless him!
That his Chief Nurse-with ev'n the aid
Of an Archbishop--was afraid,

When in these moods, to comb or dress him. Nay, ev'n the persons most inclined

Through thick and thin, for Kings to stickle, Thought him (if they'd but speak their mind,

Which they did not) an odious Pickle.

At length some patriot lords-a breed
Of animals they've got in Thibet,

Extremely rare, and fit, indeed,

For folks like Pidcock, to exhibit-
Some patriot lords, who saw the length

To which things went, combined their strength,
And penn'd a manly, plain, and free
Remonstrance to the Nursery ;
Protesting warmly that they yielded
To none, that ever went before 'em,

In loyalty to him, who wielded

Th' hereditary pap-spoon o'er 'em;

That, as for treason, 'twas a thing

That made them almost sick to think ofThat they and theirs stood by the King,

Throughout his measles and his chin-cough,
When others, thinking him consumptive,
Had ratted to the Heir Presumptive!--
But, still-though much admiring Kings,
(And chiefly those in leading-strings,)
They saw, with shame and grief of soul,
There was no longer now the wise
And constitutional control

Of birch before their ruler's eyes;
But that, of late, such pranks, and tricks,
And freaks occurr'd the whole day long,
As all, but men with bishoprics;

Allow'd, in ev'n a King, were wrong.
Wherefore it was they humbly pray'd
That Honorable Nursery,

That such reforms be henceforth made,

As all good men desired to see ;In other words, (lest they might seem Too tedious,) as the gentlest scheme For putting all such pranks to rest,

And in its bud the mischief nippingThey ventured humbly to suggest

His Majesty should have a whipping!12

Th' alarm thus given, by these and other
Grave ladies of the Nursery side,
Spread through the land, till, such a pother,
Such party squabbles, far and wide,
Never in history's page had been
Recorded, as were then between
The Whippers and Non-whippers seen.
Till, things arriving at a state,

Which gave some fears of revolution,
The patriot lords' advice, though late,
Was put at last in execution.
The Parliament of Thibet met-

The little Lama, call'd before it,