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."

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

As one of Satan's most sublime inventions.

This was a signal unto such damned 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.

They're 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 "entré"

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.

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 :

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 sub

blime,

And if they ran a race, they would not win it

'Gainst Satan's courier's bound for

their own clime.

The sun takes up some years for every ray

To reach its goal--the devil not half a day.

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 near'd, And, growing bigger, took another guise; Like an aerial 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 ;-

But take your choice): and then it grew a cloud

And so it was-a cloud of witnesses. But such a cloud! No land e'er saw a

crowd

Of locusts numerous as the heavens saw these;

They shadowed with their myriads 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."

Here crashed a sturdy oath of stout John Bull,

Who damned away his eyes as heretofore:

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

The temperate Scot exclaimed: 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."

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.

When Michael saw this host, he first grew pale,

As angels can; next, like Italian twilight,

He turn'd all colors--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.

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—

"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."

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!"

Almost as scanty, of days less remote.

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?"

"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,

66

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?"

I don't like ripping up old stories, sinc His conduct was but natural in a princ

"Foolish, no doubt, and wicked,

oppress

A poor unlucky devil without a shilling But then I blame the man himself mud less

Than Bute and Grafton, and shall b

Thyself if false, as him if true? Thou

wast

Too bitter-is it not so?-in thy gloom Of passion?"-" Passion !" cried the phantom dim,

"I loved my country, and I hated him.

"What I have written, I have written: let

The rest be on his head or mine!" so spoke

Old "Nominis Umbra;" and while speaking yet.

Away he melted in celestial smoke. Then Satan said to Michael, "Don't forget

To call George Washington, and John Horne Tooke,

And Franklin; "-but at this time there was heard

A cry for room, though not a phantom stirr❜d.

But to the point; while hovering o'er the brink

Of Skiddaw (where as usual it still rain'd),

I saw a taper, far below me, wink, And stooping, caught this fellow at a libel

No less on history than the Holy Bible. "The former is the devil's scripture, and The latter yours, good Michael: so the affair

Belongs to all of us, you understand.

I snatch'd him up just as you see him there,

And brought him off for sentence out of hand:

I've scarcely been ten minutes in the air

At least a quarter it can hardly be:
I dare say that his wife is still at tea."
Here Satan said, I know this man of
old,

And have expected him for some time here ;

A sillier fellow you will scarce behold, Or more conceited in his petty sphere: But surely it was not worth while to fold Such trash below your wing, Asmodeus dear:

We had the poor wretch safe (without being bored

With carriage) coming of his own accord.

"But since he's here, let's see what he has done."

"Done!" cried Asmodeus, "he anticipates

The very business you are now upon, And scribbles as if head clerk to the